The Estates

by LaJill Hunt

  “Yes. I’m sorry to stare. It’s just…you look so much like your brother. Then again, you are twins.”

  “Yeah,” Micah laughed. “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m better. It’s been a rough couple of days. But I’m finally able to sit up. I had that same tube down my throat until two days ago. My leg and foot suffered the most damage, but I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s good to hear and see. I’m glad you are better.”

  “I had my security guard wheel me down here so I could see him. I hope it’s okay,” Scorpio told him.

  “That’s fine. I’m so sorry my brother got you into this situation.”

  “Got me into it? No, he didn’t get me into anything. He pulled me out of it. Your brother saved my life. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him,” Scorpio’s voice quivered and then she sniffed. Malachi could tell she was crying.

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” Micah said. “Here take this.”

  Yeah, you wouldn’t know, asshole. Always tryna make me out to be the villain!

  “Thanks,” Scorpio said after blowing her nose, then she continued. “He drove me home from the club because I was too drunk. Later, when the fire started, I collapsed and he found me and got us both out of that house.”

  Now what you got to say, Micah? I saved her life!

  “The police told us they were investigating him because it was arson.”

  “It was arson, but it wasn’t him. I keep remembering seeing a woman right before the fire started. It’s fuzzy, but I know she was there and she was yelling at me about something. Then, she kicked me and ran out right before the fire.”

  Woman? What woman? Malachi didn’t know who or what Scorpio was talking about. As far as he could recall, they were the only two people in the house.

  “Wow,” Micah sighed.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Scorpio sniffed again. “What are they saying?”

  “All we can do is wait and pray,” Micah told her.

  “I really can’t help with that.”

  “With what?”

  “Praying. I don’t know how. The only thing I know about prayer is it’s what some people do before they eat and during church. I don’t eat that much, and I can’t tell you the last time I’ve been in a church. I think it was for a bridal photo shoot,” Scorpio told him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I definitely don’t judge.”

  Liar! You’ve been passing judgment on me since we were in sixth grade! You’re the most judgmental, hypocritical man alive….you and your daddy!

  “Thanks.”

  “But prayer is a simple conversation with the Lord. It doesn’t have to be deep. He already knows what’s on our hearts. He just wants us to be honest with Him and speak it. It’s not always asking, but simply sharing with Him. The Bible says ‘open your mouth wide and I will fill it.’ When we pray, we build a relationship with God. Would you like for me to pray with you?” Micah asked.

  “Can we pray for him? He’s the one who needs it more than I do. I need you to help me pray for him if that’s what they say he needs,” Scorpio told him.

  “We can pray for both of you,” Micah told her. “Take my hand.”

  Malachi then felt the presence of his brother beside him and the feel of him taking his hand.

  What the hell? Is he really about to do this? I don’t believe it.

  “Close your eyes. Now, Father God in the name of Jesus, we come to you right now saying thank you. Thank you for bringing us here together God, and for sparing these two beautiful lives. God, we know that you will heal Malachi and strengthen him Father. We are asking that you bring him back whole to us. We cover him and ask that you fall fresh on him and restore him like never before. We ask God that you continue to heal Scorpio. Hear her heart and be her comfort right now as she continues to regain her strength. Guide her wherever you would have her to go right now. Direct her path and give her peace in her situation. In Jesus name, Amen.”

  “Amen,” Scorpio repeated. “How did you do that?”

  “Do what?” Micah asked her.

  “Know to pray for peace in my situation? And that I needed guidance? How did you know to say all of that? Are you like psychic?”

  “No, I’m not psychic,” Micah laughed. “It wasn’t what I knew, but it was what the Holy Spirit put on my heart to say. I told you prayer is what’s in your heart, that’s all.”

  “Well thank you. I guess I should go. I’m sorry. I don’t even know your name. I’m normally not this rude.”

  “You’re not rude. And my name is Micah.”

  “Thank you Micah.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll keep you in prayer.”

  “And now that I know how, I will keep praying for Malachi.”

  Malachi listened and realized she was gone. He felt Micah’s hand on his again and then heard him say, “My brother the hero, who would have thought? God, heal him, cover him, protect him.”

  Malachi didn’t want to hear any more. He didn’t want to feel his brother’s hand or accept any prayers from him. Again, he went back into the darkness of what he thought was sleep. When he woke again, Micah was gone, but there was someone else standing beside his bed talking to him.

  “Chi, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want you to know I’m praying for you son.”

  It was Jerry, the Bishop’s best friend, and Malachi’s godfather, “You know your daddy is pissed at both of us right about now, but everything is gonna be alright. We just need for you to stick around a while longer. Man, we ain’t even get to celebrate your coming home. I tried explaining to him and your mama how you didn’t want them to know …”

  “What are you doing in here?” The Bishop’s voice interrupted what Jerry was trying to say.

  “Walt, man, you know I had to come and see him.” Jerry said, “I love this boy as much as you do. He’s just as much my family as he is yours. I will do anything for this boy.”

  “Well, we know you lie for him.” Bishop said, “You’ve shown us that much. Malachi should have come home when he was released. He needs direction, structure and some Bible based discipline in his life. This right here shows that he wasn’t ready to handle freedom. He was out of jail how long? Not even twenty four hours and look at what happened. I blame you for this Jerry!”

  “It wasn’t like that, Walt. You know I didn’t want this to happen and neither did Malachi. You don’t give him enough credit.”

  Malachi was glad that Jerry was sticking up for him. He had always had Chi’s back no matter what. It was one of the reasons he was closer to him than his own father.

  “Just get out, Jerry, before I have you thrown out.” The Bishop said.

  “Stop trying to be his Bishop and try being his father for a change. I been telling you that for years.” Jerry said.

  “And how many sons have you raised, Jerry?”

  The room got quiet, and Malachi waited for Jerry to say something, but he never did. He realized that he was gone and thought he was all alone until he heard his father’s voice again.

  “Malachi, I’m gonna need for you to stop this and wake up. You’ve always been the stubborn one. I remember the night you were born, they delivered Micah first and you made your mama labor for five more hours before you came out. You made us wait until you were good and ready to make your appearance. Well, your mother is laboring again for you, and I’m begging you to just come on out so she can…we can…stop worrying about you. It’s been too long since…since…” the Bishops voice stopped.

  Malachi wondered if he had drifted off into the darkness until he heard the voice again and then realized the Bishop was crying. He had never seen nor heard his father cry before and it stirred something within him. He wanted to yell for him to get out because he was so uncomfortable. Malachi tried to force himself back into the darkness. He used everything within him to block out the sound of the Bishop’s tears, and then he heard his voice continue. This time in song:

  �
�I realize that sometimes in this life…

  You’re gonna be tossed by the waves and currents that seem so fierce…

  But in the word of God, I’ve got an anchor…

  And it keeps me steadfast and unmovable despite the tide.

  My soul is anchored in the Lord.”

  Malachi’s chest became heavy and he tried to fight the emotions that were erupting inside of him.

  Please let him leave, God. I don’t want to hear any more. I just want to sleep and be left alone.

  Malachi tried and tried to go back into the darkness that had been comforting him for the last several days when he needed it to. But something was different. He couldn’t find it.

  “I…I love you son,” The Bishop told him and then, he softly called, “Malachi? Son, can you hear me?”

  Malachi didn’t answer. He tried to fight his way back, determined to find the dark tunnel and stay there. Slowly, the darkness surrounded him and he was relieved. He realized that each time he left the darkness, it was becoming harder and harder to return.

  As he lay in the hospital bed, listening to the sounds of the Bishop’s crying fading as he slipped back into the coma, Malachi wondered if death really would have been an easier option for him.

  Epilogue

  Jonah Harrington

  Jonah was in the middle of preparing lunch when he heard the doorbell ring. He turned the stove on low and covered the pot of homemade chicken soup, grabbing a dish towel to wipe his hands as he headed to answer it. His favorite canine companion, Dash, was right on his heels.

  “Can I help you?” Jonah asked the man who was standing on his doorstep.

  “How ya doing? I’m Detective Adam Frazier,” the man smiled.

  Jonah didn’t smile back, he just stared. Dash sensed Jonah’s composure and began growling. The detective glanced down and backed up. Jonah looked past him to see the squad car parked in the driveway.

  “Dash, stop.” Jonah said gently and the dog quietly sat down beside him. Jonah reached and gave him a gentle pat on the head, appreciative of his loyalty.

  “I’m investigating the fire that happened a couple of days ago. I understand you were one of the first people to call it in and your house appears to be the closest one. Did you happen to see anything or anyone?” The detective asked.

  “Nope, I didn’t.” Jonah told him, “Why are you investigating the fire? I thought it was started by something in the garage.”

  “Well, no, it appears that it may have been a deliberate act.”

  “Really?” Jonah blinked.

  “Yes sir. Mrs. Douglas has reported that there was an unknown female who assaulted her right before the fire occurred who may have had something to do with this. Did you notice any female in the neighborhood that night?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Jonah told him.

  “Well, your property seems to be the closest to the Douglas home, I can’t imagine anyone getting out here without a car. Did you seen any strange vehicles that night?” Detective Frazier asked.

  “Nope not at all.” Jonah shrugged.

  “I’m told you were the first one to arrive at the house and you helped Mrs. Douglas and Mr. Burke escape. Did either one of them say anything to you?”

  “Well, he was the one who pulled her out the house. I just helped him lay her down and I was one of the ones who called 9-1-1. Neither one of them said anything.” Jonah told him.

  Detective Frazier reached into his pocket and handed Jonah a business card, “If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

  “Sure thing.” Jonah took the card and watched as the detective got into his vehicle and drove away. He hated the police and had done so since Lydia’s death. For weeks after she died, he was interrogated over and over again. They seemed determined to prove that he had something to do with it. His life was miserable until the final autopsy report came in and cleared him of any wrongdoing, and even afterwards, he still felt like he was a wanted man. His life had come crashing down and all he could do was vanish. He left everything and everyone and found solace in what he had one day hoped would be the surprise of a lifetime for Lydia, the house he now lived in.

  Jonah and Dash went back inside. He walked into the kitchen, thinking about the fire and the questions Detective Frazier asked. He also thought about the things he didn’t tell the Detective. He didn’t tell him about the black Honda Civic which was now parked in his garage covered with a tarp, he didn’t tell him about the torn shirt Dash found near the backyard, and he didn’t tell him about the woman who had been hiding out in his upstairs bedroom for the last two days. He made a bowl of soup, put some crackers on a small plate, grabbed a bottle of water and made his way up the steps with a tray carrying it all.

  “Lunch is served.” He told her when he walked inside the bedroom where she was standing by the window, peaking out, dressed in one of his t-shirts.

  “Oh my God!” She hissed, “Was that the police!”

  “Yeah, it was.” He told her, “Come on, get back in bed so you can eat.”

  “What did they want?”

  “They’re still investigating the fire.” He placed the tray on the nightstand beside her.

  “Shit. What did you tell them?” She said, limping back over to the bed. Her ankle was bandaged and her face was slightly bruised.

  “I didn’t tell them anything. Mainly because I don’t know anything.” Jonah told her.

  “I can’t believe this! I never meant for any of this to happen, I swear! Shit just got crazy and…” She broke down and began crying uncontrollably.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Come on, eat something.” Jonah told her. This was something Jonah had gotten used to over the past few days. As a matter of fact, when she wasn’t asleep, she was crying. Those were pretty much the only two things she did: sleep and cry. She was a pretty girl, young, petite and had she not been wearing the blonde weave in her hair, she would be the spitting image of one of his all time favorite celebrity crushes: Tatianna Ali. He had tried time and time again to find out information about her, but the only thing he was able to get from her was that supposedly, her name seemed to be ‘Squirt’ and that the fire was a mistake. As he watched her slowly eat the soup he prepared, Jonah hoped that his helping her wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake of his own.

  To Be Continued….