Gold Raven (3 page)

Just as he bared his teeth to grip it, Jordan charged him and snatched it from his grasp. “Oh – so we miss one! Thank you.” He said, heading for the window with it.

“
Jordan!! Now – you’re finally making me mad! Give back that bottle!”

“
Oh
you
gettin’ pissed off is ya’? Well you been pissin’ us off fo’ a while now; as well pissin’ all over this here room!” With that, he tossed the last bottle out for it to land with a loud smash with the others, “Now, what you gone do!?” He taunted further.

Deciding that it was best to just ignore him, Manny turned back, laying his head forward into his folded arms.

“
I ain’t goin’ away. Not this time, no no sa’.” Jordan informed him walking to the desk. “You heah’me? This it, i’s gone stop right here, right now.” Still Manny lay unresponsive. “Igno’ me all you want, but you heah’me; yeah, you heah’me loud and clear.” Jordan leaned forward to get real close to him. “Look at’cha, you pitiful. Not much left ov’yah; not that there was much man ov’yah to begin wit’.” Jordan waited for a reply; since there was none forthcoming, he cut a bit deeper, pushing his luck to the brink.

“
The best part o’ you run down yo’ mama’s leg when you born. An’ what left, got wasted on hoes and whiskey and such.” Jordan thought out loud shaking his head. “You all burnt up. Look at’cha, ti’ed, old, bitter and nasty.” He went on. “You heah’me? I’m talkin’ to you.” Jordan was starting to get angry now. Not about to be ignored he reached and grabbed a hand full of Manny’s hair from the top of his head and picked it up. Ignoring the threat in Manny’s shocked eyes, he bent closer.

“
Not burnt, weak! You’s a spineless - weak – o-o-ol’
white
man – wit’ no balls at that!”

“
You son-of-a-bitch!” Manny jumped up to swing at Jordan, but lost his balance and fell back hard against his chair, which broke with a loud cracking sound, under his weight. He found himself tumbling backwards against the wall, sliding to the floor to be wedged uncomfortably there, trapped within the chair and wall, smarting from Jordan’s deep laughter, stabbing at his pride all the more.

“
Ahhh hell, look’at’cha now! Look at’cha! Wish Ms Lena could see you now.” Jordan continued, walking around the desk to where Manny lay, as he angrily kicked the chair away from him to stretch his legs out, not bothering to get up from the floor.

“
You sho’ look ti’ed ol’ man.” Jordan chuckled, kneeling down beside him to inspect him, his lip curled in distaste.

“
Just do me a favor – go leave me the hell alone.” Manny returned sounding tired and weak, not bothering to open his eyes.

“
Ain’t that I don’t want to – no – I’d like’ta. ‘cause I can tell ya’now…the cow patties smell better’n you. An’ ya’breath…
lord, lord, lord! I don’ smelled better out the back ov’ah skunks ass, than wha’s comin’ from you.”

“
Jordan!! Fuck - off!!”

“
You know…you ain’t have no business, with her, ‘cause you sho’ didn’t deserve her-…”

“
Don’t say it!” Manny warned.

“
Lord know I never thought I heah myself sayin’ it, but – truth is…I sho’ hope ta’God she dead! ‘Cause if she ain’t, that mean after all this time…she somewhere, hopin’, waitin’ on you. An’ – well…here you lay.”

Both of Manny’s arms folded up over his eyes, as if trying to block out the images Jordan’s words conjured up.

“
Yo’ sorry ass! You turn ha’life upside down… then leave ha’ ta’fen for ha’self.”

“
Shut it, not another word!”

“
Can’t take the truth huh? Do it haunt you ta’know she somewhere prayin’ you gone come and save her, find her, somehow, some way? Yes, no? No … know why no? You too got’damn drunk ta’ do it!”

“
I tried…I tried.”

“
An’ then give up. You let her down…you gave up on-…”

“
I didn’t!” Manny growled, fighting tears, still hiding away under his arms.

“
You give up! Given’em all up! All that talk you give ha’. ‘bout how you search to the end of the worl’ for ha’! Huh, yeah…you at the end of yo’ worl’ alright! She bout somewhere strugglin’ alone, tryin’ ta’ make it to the next day…thinkin’ that gon’ be the day you find’ha, but we both know… that can’t be… cause well… look at’cha; you pitiful and ya’done… that’s why I hope ta’ God she dead.”

“
NO!” Manny barked, sucking in a deep breath, trying to maintain some control. “She’s not!”

“
Course she is! She gotta be! You gotta believe that! To be the pitiful man you are now…must mean ain’t no more hope! ‘Cause if you thought there was even a thread o’hope…ain’t nothing would stop you from goin’ on, but here you is… at a stop! If I'dah known you was gon’ be like this…I’dah made her go with that Thomas. Now he was a man!”

“
Shut up Jordan!!”

“
That man, wanted ha’ bad! Almost gotta too…but you come and take ha’ back! And ‘cause yo’ world dealt you a blow…you took it like all weak men do! You laid down.”

“
I tol’ you once long time ago, if you was gon’ love a black woman, you got to be strong enough, man enough to suffer and struggle with what this world gone do to you because ov’it! You tol’ me you were handlin’ it the best you knew how.” Jordan sat thinking and shaking his head. “If this yo’ best…it ain’t good enough. Like I say, you ain’t deserve her. I can just imagine the look on ha’ face, was she t’see you, here…laying in yo’ own piss. Takin’ the easy way out by stayin’ drunk…while she struggle and suffer alone ever’day, trying to feed that baby. Hope be a big girl now, wonder what she doin’? I wonder if her and ha’ mama able to take care of theyself? No doubt she forced to do what only a black woman has to, to make it. Yep…Thomas should’ah got her. I bet he was man enough…what you think Manny? Sorry, that’s wrong ain’t it? Better name for you be…somethin’ like…Annie! Yeah, not Manny…huh Annie?”

Manny lay with his teeth clenched in anger, fighting back tears with everything in him. He had made the right choice in loving her, in keeping her from Thomas. He’d meant every single word and promise to her.

‘
Oh God; God please…please… help me…help me. I can’t find the words. Just – just help me…please.’
He prayed to himself.
‘Tell me God…she’s not dead. She’s alive and safe… waitin’…please tell me it’s true. God…after all this time… I still love that woman so…please…please.’
His silent prayer continued. Jordan was quiet beside him now. Manny sucked in a deep breath as the fuzzy fog of sleep cleared from his head. He opened his eyes, although he kept his arms crossed over his face.

‘
Lord…I’ve been wasting time, precious time. The time I spent in hell….I could have been searching for her. If I hadn’t given up…I might have found her by now.'

“
Well?” Jordan asked.

“
She’s not dead. I know it. She can’t be!” He finally replied to Jordan, his voice somewhat steady and sure for the first time in a long while.

“
Then get up from here! You heah me, get yo’ ass up … an’ stop actin’ like she dead. Don’t have ha’ waitin’ if you ain’t got no intention of searchin’ more. This it, right here, right now, either you gone go on wit’ yo’life; or you gon’ go on wit’ that search. Or you gon’ give up on all…and die. We tired o’waitin’ ta’see which it’s gone be. One thang fo’ sho', if it gone be death…go’on do it now. That way we can bury you…an’ go on. ‘cause ever’time you show yo’ face like this…you load us down wit’yo misery. An’ another shovel full o’ dirt is getting’ scooped fo’ yo’ grave. It ain’t right! I never in all my life, thought you be this way! Not never! So wha's it gone be? I need ta know now! That way, we can dig yo’hole deeper…or, we can saddle your horse.” Manny lay unmoving and silent once again, praying. Finally, his arms came away from his face and he used them to push himself up to sit against the wall. Jordan leaned to the side and sat back beside him, quiet now…waiting.

Jordan was right, Manny knew it but it all seemed so impossible. It had been eleven years now. Even so, to that moment…he still wanted her. He still loved her.
Loved and missed her so badly, the only way he had of dealing with it, was to drown it and stay numb and oblivious. Yet the reality was, numb and oblivious was a slow journey to the real thing…eternal oblivion. “I’m not ready to give up yet.” He said suddenly. “I’m not some weak, spineless, white man…you black bastard you!” Jordan chuckled, tickled to the bone. “I may be a black bastard, but you one stanky ass white bastard. An a black ass, a whole lot betta than a stanky white ass!”

“
That maybe.” Manny agreed, smelling himself and grinning. Jordan laughed again. “But know this Jordan…you mark my words as I say them.” Manny became serious again. “I haven’t a clue, of where she lay waiting, hiding, all I know is, she is out there and alive, aye, she is. Know this, waiting for me or not…I will find her. Even if it’s just so that she knows…I never gave up on us.”

“
That’s a lotta talk…backin’ it a whole nother thing.”

“
Yes…it is… I can assure you; this time only death can keep me from fulfilling that promise.”

“
Or yo’self…doing what you been doing.”

“
No…as you said, it’s enough. I’ve wasted enough time. It’s time for me to head out and find my family, wherever they might be. If - God is willing…when I do, I’ll bring them home.”

“
I’mo tell you somethin’. Most white folk don’t thank to do it much… but if you gone make it… you best take it up.”

“
What is that?”

“
You bes’ start prayin’. An’ keep on prayin’…’cause what you up agains’… It’s gone take the power o’God to get you through it.” Jordan murmured quietly.

“
I realize that and just so you know…I’ve already started.”

They sat there a few moments more…thinking about the past, happier times, the times when they were carefree young boys, and how they had grown into fast and true friends. Manny turned and looked at Jordan. He had always been there for him, always giving his best, loyal and true, no matter what the cost. Jordan realized how much Lena meant to him, and never failed to fight for them. Just like now. Manny reached over, grabbed his friend's hand and squeezed it. Jordan squeezed back, then pulled himself to his feet and helped Manny to his. The two men stood eye to eye. Manny knew he had a long road ahead; his feet were now back on ground and aimed in the right direction. It was a start…and he knew there was no more time left for relapses. The time…was now…or never.

New Orleans, Louisiana

1826

With the sliding bow across the fiddle strings, the skilled strumming of the guitar, and the clapping – cheering of the crowd of men and women, the gypsy danced. A body sleek, toned and limber as it made every move, one of seduction and enticement promising all that a man desired. Grace, control and measured steps combined with Hope’s natural smooth agility to light a flame within all the men who stood transfixed by her. She knew how to use her body in rhythm with the music that always guaranteed a filled pot.

Picking up the back of her long, golden curls, she spun and swayed. Her skirt lifted as she twirled offering a glimpse of small bare feet, tiny ankles and shapely calves. Every male heart there beat with desperate longing, captivated by her sultry, rebellious smile. With such a show of sensual moves, it would surprise many to know that she was not quite sure why this kind of thing did what it did to the audience, or rather, the men but she knew that it worked. Every time she was lost in the music, their pan overflowed with money and no matter who stood in her audience, they had to credit her for her performance. Men wanted her, craved her…some vulgar in their show of how she inflamed them.

She ignored their coarseness, because as soon as the dance was over…she was out of sight. Long after the dance, her mind was curious about the bulge men got; she knew that it was associated with desire because of Cornelius.

Once when they
’d run playing in the woods and he’d chased her, upon catching her, he’d had that certain look in his eyes; unable to help herself, she would look down at him; there it would be. She would then laugh in his face and dart off and away from him.

Having no feelings for him that stirred her in the least, she thought it a game and treated it as such. Men, she decided, were strange creatures; they intrigued her. There was something in a woman and on her body…that made them act most peculiar. It was a habit that on their stops by lakes or rivers, she was always eager to go swimming to bathe. One time after bathing, upon coming out feeling clean and refreshed, laughing from the coldness that had invigorated her, she’d spied Cornelius standing half hidden behind a tree, his eyes intently on her body.

His look had been one of stark hunger, sobering her so that she shivered. For the first time, she felt uncomfortable in his presence and was quick to grab up her large drying cloth to cover herself. Alfredo, looking for him, walked up to witness the scene. He had yelled heatedly at Cornelius, forbidding him to go near her ever again when he knew her to be bathing. Over the years, he had seen her without clothing many times, as for Hope, not once in her sixteen years had she seen a man undressed and could only speculate as to what it was that made such an impression in that area of their groin? She indeed knew that there were differences in men and women, a man’s hardness and masculinity, to a woman’s soft femininity, but the other areas of their differences remained a mystery to her. Anna and Alfredo both warned her, to stay clear of men. Although men intrigued her, keeping her curiosity high most of the time, she was cautious of them and kept her distance, flirtatious only when dancing, but as soon as the dance was over, she re-braided her hair and hid it beneath a scarf, returning to simple attire so as not to attract attention. After each dance, she would sit inside their newer wagon; finally they were able to get rid of the older one, for something much bigger, now that they could afford it.