Tears on a Sunday Afternoon (7 page)

The Japanese sushi chef used a long knife to cut the salmon into one-inch pieces, then wrapped it around white flaky dough. He sprinkled a few things over it, then poured a sauce in a small bowl and laid it down in front of Julie.

“Doesn’t this look beautiful?” she asked.

I waited for the waiter to arrive with my Shrimp Tempura rolls. After he placed the plate in front of me, I stretched my hands out, palms up, presenting the rolls to Julie.

“Now that’s food.” I used chopsticks, picked up a slice of the roll and dipped it into the sauce. I savored the taste of the shrimp combined with the other unknown ingredients. I chased that down with some hot tea.

“There’s nothing like salmon sushi.” Julie devoured the last of her very pink sushi. Her facial expression mimicked that of Tyra Banks’ in an explosion of joy as she welcomed one of her guests. “You were saying that Donna gets ten million dollars. Why does that bitch have to get half, when you’re taking all the risks?”

“Donna was the one who set up the entire deal. Either way, I walk away a wealthy man.”

“Five million maybe, but not ten million.” There was a serious tone in Julie’s voice that was totally unexpected. The fact that I was actually sitting down and talking to her about the robbery was totally unexpected; for that matter. Initially, when I had told her about it, she was totally against it until I told her the amount of money that was involved. Her change in direction was as swift as a fish swimming into the mouth of a shark. I was surprised but happy that she understood what I was doing and why I was doing it. She prodded me until I told her the complete plan and today I was about to update her on what Donna had told me yesterday.

“And you said that all this goes down in fifteen days?”

“Yes, starting from tomorrow.”

“Who will pick you up after the robbery?”

I looked around the room. The nearest table was about fifteen feet away and Julie was talking in a very low voice. “Can you stop repeating robbery?”

“Yeah, you’re right. We have to be more careful.”

“We? Since when are you a part of this?”

Julie held my hands and looked me straight in the eyes. “Donald, you are about to rob a man of twenty million dollars and your partners are two women. Women are the most vicious and evil things that God ever made. There are only two people who could think like a woman; another woman or God. And guess what? God is not an option.”

Her hands felt gentle and warm and her words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a chilly morning. Her hair, combed with a bang at the side of her left eye, gave her an angelic appearance. As I squeezed her hand, I realized that my body was sliding into hers.

She quickly jerked her hand away from mine as if sensing our intermingling spirits. “We are not gonna go there.”

“Go where?” I asked innocently. “Do you want to go to the ball game this weekend with me and Emerald?”

“No, sorry; Brian and I are going to the Poconos.”

She shot the knife right through my chest. I didn’t want to hear that now. “Oh, I forgot to ask how you and Brian are doing.”

“It’s been great. We’re having a ball. Brian’s a really good guy. I think he might propose to me over the weekend.” She motioned the waiter over.

Not only had she plunged the knife into my chest, she was now turning it.

“But you love the ball game,” I said weakly, appealing to a time long gone.

“Yeah, but I love a honeymoon Jacuzzi suite much better than seeing men run around in tights. Even though Derek Jeter could relieve any sore eyes.”

“Well, you’ll have to explain it to Emerald. I already told him you were coming.” I was desperate.

“Stop this right now, Donald. Do not let our friendship go down that road. You will explain to Emerald that I couldn’t make it this weekend and I’ll call him when I get back. I’ll try to take him to the movies with Brian next weekend. There’s a new animated movie opening up.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, but lately we haven’t really been spending time together.”

This was the truth. I had really started to miss Julie; it seemed like she never had any time for me. The only time she seemed to be available was when we had to discuss the plans for the robbery.

“Donald, stop acting like a baby. I’m not going anywhere permanently. Let’s talk some more about the upcoming event. I want to make sure you’re protected. After the event, who picks you up?”

“Do you think Donna will let anyone but herself pick me up?”

“Nope, because that’s when she’ll try to hurt you. I guarantee you Donna will not be there by herself.”

“There’s no one else in on the plan. Who can she get to help her?”

Julie started to laugh. “Do you remember the first time you slept with Donna? You told me that she was the kind of woman that a man would kill for. Now ask yourself that same question over again.”

“You’ve got me there. She doesn’t even need to pay anyone. Just a promise would be enough to get someone to bust a cap in my ass.”

“Now, do you understand why you need me? We’ve known each other for how many years? Are you going to trust Donna or me?”

I had never seen that kind of cunning in Julie and, as we sat down to map out the pickup, I was very happy that I had her on my side. I realized that I might have to blackmail Donna to keep more of the money but I was planning to be alive to do it. As Julie explained it, I would not have been alive.

“So what do you have in mind?”

Julie took a piece of a napkin and started to draw a map of the streets. “Donna’s expecting to pick you up here,” she said, pointing to a dark alleyway where Donna was supposed to be waiting. “But you’ll go in the opposite direction and a yellow cab will pick you up right here.”

“What yellow cab?”

“Leave that to me. Donna has her ways and I have mine.”

I couldn’t picture Julie convincing a man to do anything. But I had been wrong before and, looking in Julie’s eyes, I knew that no matter what she had to do, there was going to be a cab waiting to pick me up.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I found my father.”

Grandma gave me a brief glance, then continued to take the food out of the pot. “Is he alive?”

“Yes, he lives upstate in Albany.” I sipped slowly at the red homemade sorrel drink.

“I wanted to kill him, you know.” She made the statement apologetically. “But I couldn’t. If I had done that, there would have been no one to take care of you.”

“How did you know who he was?” I asked. “It cost me a pretty penny to find him.”

“At that time, there was a brief trial but, of course, no one was found guilty. Three men had been accused. I didn’t care who I killed. I just wanted to kill one of them.” As she spoke, the pain was evident in the tightening of her voice. She brought the food and placed it in front of me.

“Grandma, you’re not going to eat?” She had just finished cooking when I walked into the house.

“No, Son, my stomach is filled up with emptiness.” Tears started to fall from her eyes as she held onto the top of the chair. “I can’t eat a thing.”

I quickly got up and sat her down on a chair before returning to mine. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Donald, don’t go and do anything stupid. Remember, you have your son to think about.”

“I know, Mom. I merely plan to talk to him. I want him to know that I’m alive.”

I had stopped eating to look at my grandmother. I could see that I had brought up some terrible memories. She shook her head profusely and kept wringing her hands.

“He killed my only daughter.” Grandma stared up at the picture of my mother. “For years, there has been an emptiness in my heart because of it. You helped a lot, but I sometimes miss your mother so much that I still cry to this very day.”

I rose and placed my hands around my grandmother’s shoulders, tapping her ever so gently. Inside my heart, a rage was building against my father. In creating me, he had destroyed so much. I’m sure that once my mom had left the penitentiary, he must have gone back to life as usual. I clenched my fists to hold back the tears I now wished to share with my grandmother. I also clenched my fists because I wanted to kill my father. I didn’t know him and I hated his presence on this earth.

My grandmother took some deep breaths and wiped the tears away from her eyes. “Forgive me, Son.”

“Mom, stop it. There isn’t anything to forgive you for.”

I pulled my chair closer to her and held her hand, as time slowly ticked away. Besides my son, my grandmother was the only family I had left. She had given me so much and whatever I had done for her was never enough. I had planned a trip to upstate Albany the following day with hopes of finding some kind of resolution. I had always wanted to find my father, but not for a tear-jerking Oprah reunion. I wanted to find him and punish him for bringing me into the world the way that he did. He had destroyed in order to create, then walked away from his creation. I wasn’t the product of a sailor or a priest; I was the product of a rapist. It was a label that I carried in my heart throughout my life; unbeknownst to the people around me. Julie was the only person who knew my true origin.

“No, Emerald, Julie isn’t coming with us today,” I said as we pulled out of the driveway.

It was a hard lesson, but Emerald had come to realize that his mother and I would not be attending too many events together. Except for special occasions, like birthdays or gathering at his grandparents’ house, he would either be with me and Julie or only me. I hated the occasions when Lauren and Annette took my son but, as with many things in my life, at present I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. There were no fucking two mommies in Emerald’s life. There was a mommy, a daddy and a thing. A woman acting and dressing like a man, but not a man; even if she hit like one.

“Daddy, do you know how they make animated films?” Emerald was the first one out of the car. He waited as I secured the vehicle opposite a pizza restaurant on Court Street.

I clasped his hand in mine. “I assume that they’re made with computers, Emerald.”

“Daddy, you’re silly. It’s a lot more involved than that.” He giggled in delight of his knowledge as we walked across Court Street.

“Well, tell me what’s involved in making animated movies.”

“Okay.” A big smile spread over his face. As we rode up to the movie theater, Emerald explained the animation process to me to the amazement of the people in the elevator. At the end of the ride, a white, middle-aged woman, with a boy about eight years old, stopped us as we were getting off.

“I hate to be rude, but how old is your son?” she asked.

“He’s four,” I said.

She was astounded. “No kidding? My son can barely read the menu in a restaurant and your son gave us a lesson in animation.”

There wasn’t anything else I could say. Emerald was advanced for his age. He tugged on my arm for us to go, looking at the watch on his hand.

“Enjoy the movie,” I said as I left with Emerald in tow.

Emerald opened the front door and ran upstairs to his bedroom. He already knew the regimen of changing his clothes and brushing his teeth. He also knew never to go into his mother’s room unless she told him to come in. It was a rule implemented by Annette, who seemed to run the house. Annette had also put a lock on the master bedroom door, which she utilized constantly. My son’s bathroom was adjoining his bedroom. Therefore, there was no need for him to enter the master bathroom. The door to my room was always open so he could come in and out as he pleased. I did very little but sleep in there so there was no need to put a lock on my door. The bathroom for the guestroom that I used was small. It held a shower with no tub, a commode and a washbasin with a mirror. There were two maids who came in twice a week to clean the house.

As my son was running up the steps, he was met by his mother, who kissed him good night and promised to come and read him a bedtime story. She continued down the stairs as I made my way toward the refrigerator.

I had flipped open a bottle of Heineken and taken a long swig when I encountered Lauren.

“How was the movie?” Her robe was open, exposing her bra and panties. She looked like Dracula’s bride before she was fed.

I grunted. I neither felt like seeing her body nor engaging in any pathetic conversation.

“Donald, you know the situation we’re in. You’re not going anywhere and I’m not going anywhere. The sooner you come to that realization, the better things will be. We can be a normal family.”

She went over to the electric kettle, filled it up with water and turned it on.

“
Normal!
” I was heated. “This shit could never be normal. Like Kunta Kinte in
Roots
, I’ll always run away from this shit. You’re fucking crazy; talking about normal. If you look around, you’ll see that there isn’t a single normal aspect of our life. That bitch upstairs uses you as her punching bag. Emerald can’t come into your room and you have to come up with all these lame excuses why your eyes are bruised or your lips are swollen. Wake up; this is not fucking
normal
.”

Lauren calmly poured the hot water over the tea bag in the cup. “And what you do is better than my situation? Putting your dick into each and every pussy you find is normal? I’m surprised that your dick hasn’t fallen clear off yet. If you die from AIDS, what will become of your precious son? If you love him and you want to save him from all this evil, don’t you think your behavior should change? Do you think that you would be any different if I wasn’t a lesbian? Hell to the naw! You would still be doing what you’re doing. You bastard; you’re sicker than me. You always have been.”

“I doubt that,” I said, finishing up the beer. “Emerald is the only reason I’m here. Every night I pray that our brilliant kid doesn’t get fucked up in the head because of our situation. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Oh, and you think that if you take him out of this house and go out on your own with him he will be better off? Donald, you’ve got issues too. Just because your mother killed herself after your birth, you feel entitled to do what you do.”

I was stunned as I got up from the island. “I never told you about my mother.”

“You didn’t have to tell me. My father knew everything about you before I took my wedding vows.”

“What does my mother’s incident have to do with this?”

“Nothing, Donald, it means nothing at all. But the fact that you think that somehow you are in a better situation than me is ridiculous. You will be right next to me burning in hell.”

I dumped the empty bottle into the garbage can. “To be honest with you, I don’t know if my son living with me will be the best thing for him. What I’m certain of is that I refuse to let him grow up in this house with you and your whatever the fuck you want to call her. For as long as I’m able to breathe, I will try to get him out of this house. Your other choice is to get that bitch out. You might need her, but Emerald doesn’t.”

“Annette stays and, as we all know, you’re not going anywhere. My father will never allow you to leave with Emerald and, without him, you’re going nowhere. So go to your room, reach into the cooler and drink yourself to sleep, like you do every night.” She sounded like a mother sending a disobedient child to bed.

The gust of wind from her robe was the only indication that she had left. A minute later, I heard the door to the master bedroom slam.

I walked slowly up the stairs. Lauren was certain that I had no choice but to endure this living. In the room, I reached into the cooler and took out another Heineken. I went into the closet and unlocked the safe. I took the gun out and checked for the bullets in the magazine. I returned the magazine to the chamber. I took the gun and walked toward my bed. I sat down on the bed, my head drooped low, the gun in my right hand.

The bar was cloudy, not like most dimly lit bars. This one had gray smoke coming from the floor. I wondered if they had recently installed a smoking gadget to attract new customers. Judging from the number of customers in there at the present moment, they definitely needed to try something else. The smoking gadget wasn’t working. The bartender had brought my drink and disappeared into the back. Hennessy on the rocks guaranteed to increase your blood pressure. In other words, the black man killer drink. I tried to look at the time on my watch but the smoke was too much, so I gave up and picked up my drink once more. She had chosen the bar so I could only wait for her arrival. It wasn’t clear to me if I was hungry or simply nervous. My stomach had begun to boil to indicate an abnormality in my being. I had called her because I desperately needed someone to talk to. I couldn’t ever remember a time when I needed her so much. She needed to be there for me; I needed to look at her and explain my predicament.