Adversary (17 page)

Giuseppe went silent.

Alfonzo grimaced. Giuseppe’s prized vehicle was a late model black Mercedes, he pictured it defaced by graffiti. He sighed, damn babe, that’s cruel, but funny. “Hey, you can get another car, but can you replace Shanda?”

“Ah, this is why I love you fratellino. You are not afraid to speak truth to me. But do not threaten me again stronzo. When I see you I will pummel you for the boldness, you are not female. Do not forget you are my little brother and since we are without a father, it is my duty to fill that space.”

“Suck dick. I don’t need a damn father; I need a brother and as far as the lesser status crap, don’t go there. You throw around rank too much Giuseppe. Let’s not forget who outranks who. If I were an arrogant sonovabitch like you I’d constantly remind you why I’m wearing this ring.”

“You wear it because I allow.”

“No, hermano. I wear it because you can’t handle the responsibility. You’ll get us killed with your temper plus your best at breaking things.”

“Well that is true. Your jail is worry while I am free to do as I please.”

“Come on stop the bullying all the time. I know you and you don’t really want to hurt Shanda. Stop fronting.”

I will not beat the women but I will scare them to save face in front of my soldati, capisce?”

An exasperated exhalation is what Giuseppe got. “If that’s what you need to do,” Alfonzo finally said as he leaned back and disconnected. Immediately he rang Selange.

“I know I know. I shouldn’t have done that, right?” she said before he could say hello.

“Why’d you tag the car nena?”

“Your brother’s a slut. Shanda’s pregnant and he’s stressing her out. He’s selfish…he really is.”

“Pregnant?”

“Yep.”

Alfonzo groaned. Those two were going to make him crazy. Poor Carlo was already sucking his thumb. He felt sorry for the kid. Maybe, he’d take him for the summer and let him spend time with Angelina and Vincent.  Yeah, when his wife returned, that’s what he’d do to allow his parents to work on their relationship. Besides, he kind of liked playing Uncle. He could spoil Carlo and make Giuseppe suffer. Payback, oh yeah is sweet. He wondered where his daughter was then. “Babe, where’s Allie while you’re out vandalizing cars?”

“Asleep.”

“Did Shanda get the satisfaction she wanted?”

“She sure did.”

“Okay, my brother’s on his way home and he’s upset. Where are you ladies?”

“At Sophie’s enjoying our ice-cream.”

“All right, do me a solid esposa and don’t pull shit like that anymore. Next time holler at me and I’ll talk with my brother, okay little thug?”

“Okay, big thug.”

“Don’t make me have to spank that ass when I see you chica,” he teased.

“Ooooh papi, I want you to spank me. I like when you put your hands on me.”

He found himself laughing and had to ask, “What’d you tag on the car?”

“I made a garden but Shanda, she’s the artist. She drew a woman giving head.”

“A garden…wait a garden?” he asked in disbelief. Damn, even when she was supposed to go hard-core she behaved like a girl. He would’ve put gang signs, skulls, all types of nefarious stuff, but a garden wasn’t intimidating. “Real bad-ass.”

“Don’t laugh at me…I didn’t know what to draw.”

He laughed harder. Shanda went to the max. The blow-job depiction was a visual nobody would forget. He pictured Giuseppe cruising down the highway with the advertised obscenity and disgusted stares. Oh man, oh man, he wished he was there. Old school street justice. Tagging buildings and all that shit he almost forgot how much fun he had back in the day until now. He had a chuckle which lasted throughout the afternoon.

Women.

A garden.

Aye coño!

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Harare, Zimbabwe. A city with modern buildings, wide thoroughfares, and streets lined with flowering trees is not what Allie expected as she stared out the window with such disappointment Selange tapped her. “What’s wrong sweetheart?”

“Where’s the elephants and giraffes mom, this is such a rip-off?”

Ari laughed.

“We can go to the one of the preserves after we visit the orphanage, would you like that?”

Allie nodded. “Okay.”

Selange watched the roads as she placed a call home to check on the kids. Ari was doing the same thing. Selange waited and Maria finally answered. “Hi Maria, we’ve just arrived in South Africa.”

“Oh good…good…I am happy you are safe.”

“How are the children?”

“They’re good. Alfonzo and Sal just left for the office and Anita and I are taking the children to the zoo after breakfast.”

“They love the zoo, especially Vincent, but watch him closely; he tries to stick his hand through the bars of cages.”

“I will and how is my Allie?”

“She’s fine.”

“Okay tell her hello. I miss you both.”

Selange kissed the screen. “We love you very much and thanks for taking care of the children. I’ll call you same time tomorrow.”

“Okay, do not worry the kids are fine. So long.”

They passed the Mining Pension Fund Building at Central Avenue and Second Street along Robert Mugabe Road between Second Street and Julius Nyerere Way and the National Gallery which houses a permanent display of Shona soft-stone carvings.

Before they headed to the orphanage, Selange asked the driver to stop at the national Archives where she wanted her daughter to see the priceless collection of Rhodesiana and Africana in the form of diaries, notebooks and reports of various origins. They emerged to the warm climate and Allie smiled when she spotted the colorful sign with children’s wear near the building.

Selange took her hand when she pointed at the clothes. “We’ll get you something later but let’s go inside and look at history. How many children can say they were able to see original works of some of the greatest names in African exploration and missionary work?”

“Uh, mom, plenty. That’s why they have museums everywhere, duh!”

Ari snickered. “I see someone’s more interested in shopping than history.”

“She sure is,” Selange agreed. “Her Auntie Amelda has passed on the fashion bug,” she said looking down at the wayward girl, “but history is just as important to a designer. Fabrics and textiles come from all over the world and it’s good to know where these materials originated. Designs are also influenced by fashion from the past.”

A reluctant girl took interest and with enthusiastic steps listened to her mother discuss the bold colors of Africa which reflected a vibrant people. Like the land and the assortment of species indigenous to the continent and the gems mined from the earth. Jewelry, colorful patterns and many styles worn today were inspired by the beauty of Africa.

Allie enjoyed hearing this. She peered in the cases, pointing at pictures or reading with her eyes pressed to the display case the notebooks of explorers who chronicled everything from the species of plants, to the observation of Africa’s people many years ago.

She was so good that her mom bought her whatever she picked out at the children’s store afterwards.

***

Kefilwe gathered the children. She signed the visitors were arriving shortly and ordered the staff to put on the children’s brightest colors to welcome their guests. Gamba had sent drummers and a chorus to sing in welcome to show the foreigners the manners of their people. One hour the foreign woman had said on the phone and Kefilwe had considered telling her not to come, to go home when she heard the young girl in the background. The foreign woman’s daughter should not be here. Gamba’s motives were not good. But, she could not warn her, she could do nothing but pretend.

He’d come again last night when the children slept, in her bed he climbed as if he owned her spirit. Her body danced with his despite her protests she did not want him. What shame was this woman’s flesh when he no longer demanded and she gave without his request? Drink his milky cum, suck like a whore his sturdy spear, spread wide and cream his lips with what she had considered sacred feminine ground. Lift like a marionette as his fingers squeezed and prodded her buttocks hard upon the weapon used to rob her of a soul. Lick and eat her with joy Gamba did, pour to him willingly and in daylight crave more.

In the sun, looking over the plains with many species of wild trees and shrubs near the banks of the Mukuvisi stream she stood, broken, wanton and calling to the ancient land that she die...for death was better than to live in shame.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Dad, can I go on-line and make a profile?”

Alfonzo chuckled as he scribbled his signature to the lease and handed it back to Georgina, his secretary for many years. “No, you’re too young.”

Georgina sashayed out with her usual ‘boom-boom’ an ass shakes that made Sal laugh because she was a hot mess. Flirtatious and funny the boy considered the older married woman with kids. She mad coming to the busy office fun, and she always gave him whatever he wanted for lunch. “Don’t tell your mama you eat this,” she’d say, knowing good and well he wouldn’t.

“Why not dad?”

“I just told you why, are you deaf hijo?”

“Everybody else is on-line, it’s not fair.”

“If everybody else shoots themselves in the head, will you do that too?”

Sal’s face contorted. His dad was hard-core sometimes. “No, that’s stupid.”

“Yep, it is.” He gave Sal his undivided attention. “What’s so important that you need a profile for?”

“To socialize with my cousins, they’re all on-line.”

“You mean that social network crap, right?”

“It’s not crap dad. It’s useful when people are at a distance.”

“You have a cell?”

“Yeah.”

“We have a plane?”

“Yeah.”

“So, isn’t that how you socialize with the people you know and care about?”

“I guess.”

“You guess, either it is or isn’t, be definitive.”

“Sí!”

“Exactly.” Alfonzo squinted. “Don’t buy the hype because a lot of people are doing something. Socializing via computer sounds like an oxy-moron to me. When you socialize it shouldn’t be sitting in a room by yourself for hours with a keyboard and screen as a companion. Don’t get me wrong hijo, it has benefits for businesses, to get the word out about happenings around the world and stuff like that. But, engage with people face-to-face, don’t rely on technology. There are a lot of anonymous crazies hiding behind the screen as well as vicious and lonely people. Anytime you want to chill with your cousins give them a call, let your mom or me know and ‘bam’,” Alfonzo grinned as he re-enacted a magician’s mystique with hands, “by a miracle of flight you are in New York or wherever you want to be.”

“You’re silly.”

The arch of the famous Diaz brow. “Thanks, I like silly, sometimes I think I haven’t been much fun, hijo because of this business and you know.”

Sal nodded. “Dad, don’t worry so much. You’re fun and you’re doing a good job. One day I’m going to help.”

“Ven aqui hijo!” Alfonzo said and the boy was on his feet in his sharp suit like his dad and not too old to get a hug. “I can’t wait until that day comes.”

Sal pushed out the man-hug and did a mock knuckle to his dad’s face. “Chin up; we’re Diaz, tu sabe?”

Alfonzo up-chinned and smirked. “Better?”

“Yeah, now carry-on I have to work.”

Alfonzo laughed and turned to read the computer screen as Sal went to work on alphabetizing his files. Damn stocks were falling for the third week in a row on one of his investments. He contacted his old college buddy as he watched Sal get on his phone and lean back like his old man to talk to somebody. Atop his smaller desk sat a thin computer, a working business phone and files which had real prospective land options for him to peruse. Interaction in the business was how Sal learned. Books were good, but Alfonzo believed in hands-on and over the years Sal learned a lot. He knew more than Sergio ever would about his dad’s business and the boy was only eleven.

“Hey, how is my big-time baller doing out in P.R?” Samson’s jovial voice exclaimed.

“Good bro how’s the fam in Nueva York?”

“Same shit different toilet.”

“I told you to consider coming to work for me. I pay more.”

“Fist to heart man but hell no; there isn’t enough money in the world that’ll get me to do that.”

“Hey I tried. Anyway, sell my shares in Thompson Electronics and Browning.”

“Good call. They’re plummeting like the space shuttle.”

“Think about my offer.”

“You ask the same shit every time we talk. The answer’s not going to change.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually.”

“How many years has it been since college and it hasn’t happened yet, hmmm?”

“Too many. Kiss the wifey and kids. Paz.”

“Yeah, peace,” he said. Then the secretary announced Matt and Tony were here and waiting in the conference room and he stood. “All right Sal, I have a meeting. Hold me down.”

“Okay.”

Before leaving he exchanged fists with his son and went to the conference room where Matt cradled coffee ad Tony flipped through a magazine. “Hey what’s up guys?”

“Good morning,” they chorused as he took a seat at the long table and got a run-down on things in New York.

It’d been less than thirty minutes when Georgina interrupted with an apology. “Lo siento Mr. Diaz, but there’s been a crane accident at the Nunez site. There’s property damage but no one was hurt.”

“Coño. Okay, have Raphael bring around the car and get Sergio to come up and hang with Sal, okay?”

“Sí.”

The men were on their feet and they followed Alfonzo out the door.

***

Giuseppe walked behind Shanda, talking to her back in his mother’s kitchen as she baked and ignored his request to sit and chat. Carlo loved his grandmother and the attention of her friends out on the patio. Two days Shanda spent here with his son, refusing to return home, refusing to hear him out. So, he talked to her in an even temper, in earnest he asked forgiveness. “Por favore bella, do not stay mad. Perdóname if I have offended you.”