Chapter Five
Jenise dipped a Q-tip into a bottle of peroxide, then dabbed it onto the cut just below her right eye directly on her cheekbone. Looking into her bathroom mirror, she watched silently as it bubbled and cooled the pain in her cheek. All of the other bruises from her most recent altercation with her husband had cleared up and she was hoping that if she was able to heal the cut on her face she could cover it with makeup before Ellen brought Aaliyah home the next day.
“Jenise, what are you doing in there?” her husband Reggie yelled.
“Nothing, I'll be out in a minute,” she yelled back.
“Hurry up. I want you to see this. I got ten more followers on YouTube this week.”
Jenise stepped out of the bathroom and stared at him. “I thought you got followers on Twitter, not YouTube. What are you talking about?”
Reggie was sitting on their bed with the iPad Jenise had given him for his birthday sitting in his lap. “Dang, girl, do you ever listen when I talk? Yes, I get followers on iPad, but I put up some videos of my music on YouTube, and I have people who follow that also. If the right person sees my work online, it could be my big break.”
“Oh,” Jenise answered with little enthusiasm. She still had not been able to get rid of the headache he'd given her three days earlier when he'd punched her repeatedly in the face, so she silently hoped he did not want her to listen to any loud music. She lay down beside him on the bed and turned toward the television. “You wanna watch a movie?” she suggested.
“No, I'm busy working on my music, girl.”
“Can you keep it down a bit? I have a horrible headache.” Jenise slowly rubbed her fingers in circles on her head.
“You always got some kind of ache. If it ain't your head, it's your stomach. Then yesterday you were throwing up.” Reggie stopped playing his video and put his iPad down. “Don't tell me you're pregnant again. We can't afford another baby, Jenise,” he said angrily.
“I am not pregnant. I just don't feel good. Can you go to the store and get me some Goody headache powders?”
“Yeah, if you got some money, and if you buy me a beer.” He held out his hand expectantly.
Jenise struggled to sit up on the bed. Her head was pounding even harder than earlier. She stood up and walked across the room to get her purse. The next thing she knew, Reggie was standing over her looking worried as she lay sprawled out on the floor.
“Jenise, baby, are you okay?” he asked. “You've been out for almost five minutes.”
“I guess I got dizzy and fell. Help me up.” She held up her hands to reach for him.
“No, I've already called nine-one-one. Just stay put until the paramedics get here.”
Jenise reached up and put her hand over the cut on her cheek that had not yet healed. “What if they ask me about this?” she said.
“Just say it happened when you fell, Jenise.”
There was a loud, urgent knock at the front door, and Reggie ran to answer it. A few seconds later, he returned with the paramedics following behind him.
One of them was a tall Caucasian man with dark brown hair. He looked down at Jenise on the floor and immediately noticed the bruising on her face. “What happened here, Miss?” he asked.
“I was walking across the room, and I just fell. I've had a headache for about three days,” she answered.
The paramedic knelt down beside her. “Have you experienced any vomiting or nausea?” he asked.
“Yesterday I threw up a few times,” she answered.
The paramedic looked at Jenise's bruising and touched her face gently. He turned and gave Reggie a disgusted look, then turned back at Jenise. “Have you, um,
fallen
any other times in the past week?” he asked, then looked at Reggie again.
“No, today was the first time.” She noticed that both paramedics were now glaring at her husband. “I'm fine, really. I just got a little dizzy. If you'll just help me up I'll be fine.” Jenise reached out her hand, but the paramedic was still staring at Reggie. She tapped him on his shoulder to get his attention and extended her hand once again.
Ignoring her hand, the paramedic continued asking Jenise questions. “How did you get that bruise on your face?” he inquired.
“Oh, I bumped into the wall or something.”
“Could that something have been your husband's fist?” he asked.
Reggie rushed over to where they were and stood towering over the paramedic. He was only five foot seven, but with the paramedic on his knees, it gave him a false sense of superiority, allowing him to raise his voice. “Look, you can't come in here making crazy accusations like that. I've never put my hands on her. She told you she bumped into the wall.” He looked down at Jenise and gave her a look that demanded she back him up.
“He's telling the truth, honestly. I'm okay,” she said to the paramedic, then turned to her husband. “Reggie, help me up, honey.”
Reggie reached down and assisted Jenise to her feet with exaggerated affection and helped her to the bed. “My wife is fine now. You guys can leave.”
The paramedic stood to his feet and looked down at Jenise lying on the bed. He walked past a glaring Reggie and sat next to her. “Miss, you may have a head injury. I suggest you allow us to take you to the ER so that you can receive treatment.”
“She's not going anywhere with you,” Reggie declared.
Ignoring him, the paramedic continued speaking to Jenise. “It's your choice, Miss. If you want to go we'll take you, but we can't make you go.”
“What kind of head injury?” she asked.
“I'm not a doctor, Miss. Based on your symptoms, I think it would be best to have a doctor take a look at you.”
Jenise nodded her head, and the paramedic held out his arm for her to take.
“Jenise, are you crazy? This guy just accused me of punching you. Don't you dare leave this house with him.”
Reggie was standing on the sidewalk outside their apartment still screaming her name as the ambulance pulled away from the curb.
“Shoot! Now what am I gonna do?” he asked no one in particular.
“You should've gone with her,” a voice from behind him said.
Reggie turned around and saw Rip standing a few feet away from him on the sidewalk. “Big Rip, I didn't know you were out here. Oh, well, I guess I can't call you Big Rip anymore since you dropped over a hundred pounds. What's up, man?”
“Nothing's up with me. Why didn't you go to the hospital with your wife?” Rip asked.
“Man, she didn't need to go to the hospital. She got dizzy and fell, that's all. Now we gonna have hospital bills that we can't pay. It's just a waste of time, that's all.”
Rip looked at him strangely. “People don't just get dizzy and fall for no reason. It could be serious. You want me to give you a ride over to Piedmont Hospital?”
“Naw, man, thanks, anyway. Jenise's car is here. I'm gonna head on over there myself. I'm just going to change clothes right quick.”
A short time later Rip watched Reggie pulled out of the complex in Jenise's car, but instead of heading in the direction of the hospital, he turned and went the opposite way heading out of the city.
He drove for about a half hour before arriving at his mother's house. He was concerned about Jenise, but he was more concerned that the paramedics intended to call the police and report her bruises. It had happened before, and he'd managed to avoid the questions and accusations by leaving the area for a few days. As he hugged his mother hello, he decided that he would call Jenise in a few days to make sure it was okay for him to return home again.
Rip was on his way back to his apartment when his cell phone began ringing loudly in his pocket. He unlocked his door and walked inside and sat down on the couch before answering.
“This is Rip,” he said.
“Hey, Rip, this is Ellen. Have you seen Semaj? I've been trying to reach him since yesterday with no luck.”
“Nope. I haven't talked to him in a couple of days myself.”
“I'm worried sick. He missed an appointment yesterday, and I've left several messages for him, but he hasn't called back. He didn't anchor the news tonight. I called the station, and they said that he called in sick. I went by his apartment, but he's not there.”
Rip scratched his head and thought for a moment. “You're right, that is not like Semaj at all. Listen, if you want me to, I'll see if I can find him.”
“Could you please, Rip? I was angry at him because I thought I saw him with another woman, but now I'm just worried that something terrible has happened to him.”
Rip laughed. “If I don't know anything else I know that my cousin loves you more than a fat kid loves cake. He would never cheat on you. If you saw him with a woman it was probably a contact for a story or something.”
“You're probably right, Rip. I'm just so worried that I can't think straight.”
“Listen, I'm sure he's fine. Like I said, I'll see if I can find him, and then I'll call you back. Oh, by the way, how is your sister?”
“Jenise is fine, I suppose. I've been babysitting Aaliyah all weekend for her. I'll see her tomorrow when I drop Aaliyah off. I'll be sure to let her know you asked about her.”
“No, that's not what I meant. I saw her taken away in an ambulance about an hour ago while I was out taking my walk. That little jerk she married left shortly after that, but I don't think he was going to the hospital. I was just checking to see if she was all right.”
“Oh my God, I had no idea. What happened?” Ellen held on to the phone tightly afraid to keep from dropping it in shock.
“I'm sorry, I thought you knew. Reggie said she fell.”
“I bet she fellâright after he pushed her,” Jenise said. “I'm on my way over there now, Rip. Call my cell phone if you hear anything about Semaj.”
“I will, Ellen. You just take care of your sister, and I'll take care of Semaj.”
After hanging up the phone with Ellen, Rip immediately called Gwen.
“I took Semaj to meet his dad, and it didn't go well at all,” she told Rip. “It's not my place to give you all the details, but all I can say is that he was pretty upset by the whole thing.”
“Do you know where he was going after he dropped you off?” Rip asked.
“He didn't say, but I could tell he needed some time alone. Is everything okay, Rip?”
“I'm sure it is. I think I know where to look for him. Thanks for your help, Gwen,” Rip said before hanging up the phone.
Two hours later, Rip pulled into the gravel driveway of the home in rural South Carolina that Semaj had shared with his grandparents. Rip was not surprised to see Semaj's car parked haphazardly in the backyard. After his grandparents' deaths, he'd refused to sell the house or even rent it out. Rip had asked him about it once, and he'd told him that he just didn't have the heart to get rid of it. Instead, he'd allowed one of the town's residents to put a house trailer in the back field in exchange for being a caretaker of the house. Semaj paid the utilities, and whenever he needed to get away, he always came to the one place that he considered home.
When Rip walked into the unlocked back door, he found Semaj seated at the kitchen table eating a plate of fried chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans that the caretaker, Miss Minnie, had cooked for him.
“You want some?” Semaj offered. “Miss Minnie made plenty.”
“Don't sit there acting like everything is perfectly normal. What's going on with you, Semaj? Ellen is frantic. Why haven't you returned her calls?”
Semaj took a bite of his chicken leg and slowly chewed it before answering. “I can't talk to her right now. I needed some time to myself. Is there anything wrong with that?”
“Yes, there is, when you disappear like a thief in the night after missing an appointment with the woman you are supposed to marry in a few weeks.” Rip pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “Look, Gwen told me that you met your dad and it didn't go well, but you can't hide out here eating chicken and pretending it didn't happen.”
“Says who?” Semaj answered, and took another big bite of his food.
Rip sighed, realizing getting through to Semaj was going to be much harder than he had expected. “Just tell me what happened with this guy,” he asked.
“I thought Gwen already told you.”
“She didn't give me any details. She felt that you should do that. Now, whether you like it or not, I'm here, and I'm waiting for you to talk. Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere.” Rip got up from the table and went to the refrigerator. “You got any red Kool-Aid?” he asked while peering inside.
“It's on the second shelf,” Semaj answered. “If you haven't eaten you can go ahead and fix yourself a plate too.”
Rip fixed himself a large plate of chicken and green beans but declined the potatoes. In the past two years he'd dropped 190 pounds, and he tried his best to avoid eating too many carbs. He knew it was bad enough that he was drinking something as syrupy sweet as red Kool-Aid, so he wasn't about to backslide too far by adding on the potatoes.
He and Semaj sat at the table and ate the same as they did when they were both young boys growing up in the area. Semaj lived in the old wooden three-bedroom house with his grandparents while Rip lived down the street with his aunt who was the sister of Semaj's grandfather. Neither of the boys grew up with their fathers in their lives for different reasons, which caused them to have a kinship that was even tighter than their blood relation.