Love, Lies and Scandal (18 page)

WILL

W
ill was glad to be getting out of jail a few weeks early for good behavior. He'd been locked up for three years and never wanted to see the inside of a prison again for as long as he lived. Once all of his release paperwork had been completed, he was free to go. He exited the prison, which was located in a rural area, and walked along the side of the highway until he reached the spot where he was to wait for an hour for a bus that would take him back toward his home.

As he rode the bus, he thought about his former life, which was completely gone. He had no career, no house and no wife. When Angela had sold their home, he
did
get his share. However, most of that money was gone due to levies placed against him by creditors. Will was now in the position of having to micromanage his limited financial resources until he was able to get on his feet.

The bus dropped Will at the Bay Area Rapid Transit station in Oakland. From there he caught the train back to Pittsburg where his brother, Smoky, lived.

When he arrived at Smoky's home, he stood in front of it and took a deep breath. The grass in the front yard was completely overgrown with weeds and needed to be mowed. The outside of the house needed cosmetic work, as well. Two windows were boarded up, the screen door was dangling from its hinges and the old Ford, which should've been towed away to an auto graveyard long ago, was in the driveway.

"I'm going to have to put money into this dump if I'm going to sell it," Will said to himself. He stepped inside the chain-link fence and headed up the sidewalk to Smoky's front door. He rang the doorbell, and a few moments later he heard the cantankerous voice of his brother.

"Who the hell is there?" Smoky barked.

"It's me. Your brother, Will."

"My brother is in jail." Smoky didn't believe the voice on the other side of the door.

"Smoky, stop playing and open up the damn door," Will shouted.

"If you're my brother, then tell me, who was the first girl you had sex with?" Smoky asked.

"Smoky, I really don't have time for this, man. Open the damn door."

"Answer the damn question," Smoky fired back.

"Marcia Moore. She'd come over to the house one day after school and we had sex on the sofa."

"That's my brother!" Smoky began laughing. Will heard a series of dead bolts being unlocked. Smoky opened the door and wheeled himself out of the way.

"What's up, boy!" Smoky was delighted. Will dropped the one duffel bag he was carrying and leaned over to embrace his brother.

"I forgot you were coming back home today. Come on in. The maid is on vacation."

"The maid is always on vacation, Smoky. How do you live in this pigpen?" Will asked, looking around. Unwashed clothing, trash and boxes were piled up everywhere. A musty odor was wafting through the house, and Will couldn't tell if it was due to a plumbing problem or if it was from old trash and spoiled food.

"Don't start with me, man. You know damn well I'm in a wheelchair. It's not like I can get up and mop the damn floor. I have to depend on other people to help me, but they don't like to come around because they think I've gone crazy. But I've got more sense than any of those fools running around out there. I've got a college degree." Smoky tapped his index finger against his temple indicating that he was very intelligent.

After clearing off a spot to sit down, Will focused his attention on Smoky, and assessed his appearance. "Why are you missing two teeth and what are you doing with that black ankle bracelet on?" Will asked.

"I'm under house arrest," Smoky confessed as he put the brake on his wheelchair.

"What did you get in trouble for this time?" Will asked.

"Prostitution. I was having myself a party. You should've seen it, man. I had three girls, man, and I was handling all of them. Everything was going fine. We were getting our heads bad. Next thing I knew, the police busted out my damn windows and came charging in, this motherfucker ready to shoot anything that moved. They arrested the girls, but I wasn't going down without a fight. When one of those cops tried to handcuff me, I grabbed him. I told them not to fuck with me because my brother was a congressman and would put all of their asses on the unemployment line. While I was on the police officer, I fell out of my chair. Then one of those bastards kicked me in the face and knocked out my teeth. I told them I would be filing a police brutality report, but they all said that my teeth fell out when I tumbled out of my wheelchair."

Will exhaled loudly.

"They tried to say that I was running a cathouse." Smoky laughed. "When I got in front of the judge, I told him that I wasn't running a cathouse, I was trying to get some pussy. To make a long story short, the motherfucking judge put me under house arrest. I told him it was fine because it wasn't like I was going any place special."

"Look, man. When I get on my feet, I'll hire a maid to come through once a week," Will said.

"Make sure she's pretty and young. I don't want to look at some old, bloated lady bending over."

"You're never going to change, are you, man?" Will asked.

"Change? What the fuck for? I like being me. Hey, check this out." Smoky picked up the television remote sitting on his lap and pointed it at the television.

"I am watching
College Girls in Heat.
It's a damn good porno." Smoky laughed as he wheeled himself back in front of the television. "Remember how we used to sneak around and steal pornos from Uncle Fred? He had boxes of them. He had seen so many that he could just look at a woman and tell what kind of pussy she had." Smoky began rattling on. "Look over there." Smokey pointed to a stack of VHS tapes scattered all over the floor. "I got a collection just like him. I even taped myself a few times. I could be a big porn star if I wanted to." Smoky laughed. "I'm flexible like a motherfucker."

"You've gone crazy, haven't you?" Will asked him. "You've been sitting in here alone for too long."

"I'm not crazy, so stop calling me that," Smoky snapped at Will. "Why does every motherfucker in this world think I'm crazy? I like watching porno all the damn time. So fucking what! I'm a grown-ass man, living in my own damn house doing what the fuck I want to do."

"I did a lot of thinking while I was in jail about why I was so lustful and careless," Will said slowly. "As I thought about my life I realized that my problem started when we began watching Uncle Fred's pornographic movies. We were both too young to be watching those movies, Smoky."

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about. It's a rite of passage. Young men are supposed to watch pornos and be interested in them. Look at the damn Internet. That's the porno superhighway. If you type in the word
sex,
about two million Web sites come up. Somebody's watching a lot of it and it's not just my black ass."

"I just think that in the back of my mind it taught me to believe that women were only objects to be used for my sexual pleasure."

"They
are
there for your damn sexual pleasure. What are you trying to say, man?" Smoky paused in thought for a moment. "Oh, no. They didn't take your manhood away from you while you were locked up, did they? Who was it, man? When he comes out, we'll roll up on that fool and blow his damn brains out!"

"No. That didn't happen, Smoky," Will explained. "I'm just saying I did a lot of thinking. That's all."

"Well, that's your problem, man. You think too damn much."

Will realized that a mature conversation with Smoky about their views on women wasn't going to happen.

"Smoky, I don't want to fight with you," Will said. "Look, man, I'm going to attempt to put my life back in order. I'm going to try to run for office again. I'm going to talk to Angela and pick up where we left off."

"Angela?" Smoky chuckled. "Man, that woman is gone," Smoky said as he repositioned himself in his wheelchair.

"What are talking about? She's not dead, is she?" Will asked.

"I don't think she's dead but when you got locked up, she sold all the furniture in your house. Those boxes stacked up right there." Smoky pointed to the boxes Will noticed earlier. "That's some of your shit. She packed up all your stuff and dropped it off over here. Your clothes, your shoes and your books are packed up in boxes. Most of your stuff is down in the basement."

Will moved over and opened one of the boxes. It contained his cell phone, music CDs and newspaper articles that had been written about him. Will sighed. "Do you know where Angela is?" he asked.

"She said that she was moving back to the Midwest," Smoky said.

"Midwest?" Will asked, a little bit perplexed.

"Yeah. Chicago, I think. She said she was moving back to Chicago."

"Regina," Will said. "Her girlfriend Regina lives in Chicago."

"Yeah, that's who she was with when she dropped off all your stuff. Boy, that Regina was a fine-looking woman. I told her that she needed to get with me so--"

"Smoky." Will cut him off. "I don't want to hear it."

"Suit yourself. But Angela has moved on," Smoky said.

"I can get her back," Will said confidently. "We were good together. We had a good life. She'll always love me."

"Did she come to see you or write to you while you were locked up?" Smoky asked.

"No," Will admitted.

"And you're calling me crazy? Huh, that's a laugh." Smoky chuckled.

"I'm going to find her. But first I'm going to reach out to some old friends, schedule some interviews and start making my way back."

"How are you going to do all of this when you've been in jail? I'm dying to know," Smoky said.

"I don't know, but if the mayor of Washington, D.C., can get caught smoking crack and get reelected, so can I."

Will didn't waste any time. Within a month, he'd scheduled a press conference and was able to generate local media interest. The conference took place at a local community center.

"Mr. Rivers, what will you do now that you've been released?" asked one of the reporters.

"I'm going to run for office again," Will answered. He was glad to be back in the spotlight and he was beginning to feel the confidence he'd once lost return.

"Mr. Rivers, do you feel any remorse or regret about the crime you committed?" asked another reporter.

"I've had plenty of time to think about what I've done. Of course, I feel remorse. I realize that I was wrong, and I've paid my debt to society for my actions. That chapter of my life is now behind me. I feel that my best work and service to this community is still ahead of me."

"Since your release, have you had any contact with the young women you were involved with?" asked another reporter.

"As I stated, that chapter of my life is behind me. I'm moving forward and with the help of the citizens of this community, we'll build a place where there is opportunity, economic growth and prosperity," Will countered. He began finding his voice and the combination of words that had served him well in the past.

"What about your ex-wife, Angela? She's a reporter in Chicago now. Have you had any contact with her since your release?" asked one of the female reporters.

"Angela is an amazing woman." Will couldn't speak for a moment because he'd lost the words he wanted to say. "She is strong and I can still learn a lot from her. She and I have a lot to catch up on," Will said.

He answered several more questions, and then cornered the woman who'd mentioned that Angela was working as a reporter in Chicago. Will milked as much information from her as he could, but he didn't get much to go on.

When Will returned to Smoky's house, he told him that he was headed to Chicago for a few days.

"You're leaving already? You just got here, man. Why do you have to rush off?" Smoky asked.

"I've got to find Angela. I promised her that I'd make things right, and that's what I'm going to do," Will answered as he carried his suitcase from the basement back up the stairs.

"Will. You need to slow down and think, man. It's been what--two years now? That woman has moved on. You have to let her go. There is plenty of pussy out here that you can have."

"Smoky, she was more than pussy to me!" Will snapped.

"Okay, so she was more than pussy to you, but you fucked that shit up, man. She's probably remarried by now."

"No, she's not," Will said as he began packing his things.

"How do you know?" Smoky was trying to talk some sense into Will.

"Because I do. Angela isn't like that. She just isn't going to go out and get a new man. No one understands her the way that I do."

"You've flipped out, man." Smoky didn't hold back his words. "You've barely got money. You don't know where the woman is in Chicago. You haven't talked to her and you don't know if she even wants to deal with you. Let it go, Will."

"No! I sat in that rotten prison for two years thinking about her. She's just hurt, that's all. And
I'm
the only one who can fix her broken heart. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Will asked.

"You still love her," Smoky answered.

"Yes," Will returned.

"Well, remember this, brother. Love will make you do some crazy shit. Don't let love drive you crazy," Smoky said.

"Whatever, man," Will said.

"When does your flight leave?" Smoky asked.

"I'm taking a red-eye flight to Chicago. I'll be there by morning."

"All right, man. Be careful," Smoky said, and left Will alone to continue packing for his trip.