Under Abnormal Conditions (10 page)

He stressed the word “think”. I knew that
game as well. If I speculated on anything, it would have been taken
as a subconscious confession. I wasn’t about to go down that road
with him.

“Like I said, everything just went
black.”

His eyes studied me before finally resting on
my hands. “Yeah, I bet your wife was worried.”

“I’m divorced actually.” I said to explain
the absence of my ring.

“Divorced, huh? That’s rough. How long?”

“A year and a half.”

“Kids?” he asked.

“A two-year-old daughter.”

“I’ve got two ex’s. That child support is a
mother.”

He went fishing again and again, but I
wouldn’t bite. “I manage. It’s not easy, but being a dad is a
fulltime job.”

“Yeah, and the pay stinks,” he joked. “So
money was not a problem?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m doing the best I
can.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you have no idea what
happened?”

“That’s what I have been saying.”

“Michael?” he asked as if he were my friend.
“Do you know how much money was stolen last night?”

“$75,000,” I answered. That wasn’t the point.
The thief could have taken ten million dollars, and it couldn’t
have compared to the life he stole.

“That’s a lot of money to a couple of regular
guys like us.”

No matter what he said, I knew that it was
only “us” because he needed something from me. Otherwise, he
couldn’t have gotten far enough away from me.

He was the worst type of bigot. As long as I
performed on the stage for his amusement, everything was fine.
Unless I was running the ball, dancing or singing, I didn’t even
show up on his radar.

“That kind a money can make people do crazy
things. Things you wouldn’t normally do, you know what I mean?”

“No. No, I don’t.” I answered angrily. “There
was no way that much money was in here last night. The totals I
counted were just a couple of hundred dollars.”

“Prove it.”

“I shouldn’t have to prove it. Sherry counted
them just like I did and you know it. It’s the same way every
night.”

“I guess it’s convenient that she’s dead,
isn’t it?”

“Almost as convenient as you not being here
last night,” I snapped back.

“Listen, all I’m saying is if someone made
the decision to make some fast cash and somewhere the plan went
wrong, it’s understandable.”

“It’s not understandable for someone to lose
their life,” I said as I stood.

“Where do you think you’re going,” he asked
looking up at me. “I’m not finished talking to you.”

“Yeah? Well, I am finished talking to
you.”

“Who in the hell do you think you are?” he
barked.

“Me? Oh, I’m the guy that’s leaving.” I put
my hand on the doorknob and said, “Are you going to try and stop
me?” His only answer was a knowing smirk. I opened the door and
walked out.

There was something about the look on his
face. Something that told me he knew more than he was letting on.
He should have been more upset. I didn’t walk into any of his
traps, but he didn’t try to force it. It was his job to make me
confess, at least to the robbery, but he didn’t do it.

I didn’t even look in the direction of the
crime scene on my way out. I couldn’t bear it. I walked as fast as
I could to the back door. Luckily, no one said anything or tried to
stop me as I made my way to my car.

When I got there, the familiar smell of the
dumpster returned to me. I wondered to myself if that was the way
prison smelled.

Chapter 14

Even though, Kevin’s suspicions still rang in
my mind, I knew I had other matters that needed care. I probably
should have called Trey this morning to tell him about my
houseguest.

He wouldn’t be as happy to see him as I was.
As close as we were, things could never be the same with the three
of us. The house Ricky was accused of burglarizing belonged to
Trey’s parents. That was the summer we graduated from high school.
During our freshmen year we met Alex and he replaced Ricky as the
third member of our trio.

Alex didn’t come from very much as he was
growing up. That’s why it didn’t surprise me when he was projected
as a first round draft pick, he immediately moved off campus to an
expensive apartment and leased a brand new truck. In fact, he moved
to the same exclusive community where Trey lived.

They were my two best friends, but they
didn’t have very much in common. Trey’s family was so rich, I
wouldn’t say he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth…it was
more than likely platinum. His family was one of the only black
families to actually get to the other side of Rodeo Drive. The
green his family had was enough for them to be seen as “good
colored folks.”

Alex’s family couldn’t even afford the dirt
to be called “dirt poor”. He came from the infamous Desire housing
projects of New Orleans. The streets there would make a man out of
you or kill you, and sometimes both.

One of the only things we did share was the
fact we all had absentee fathers. With Trey and I, our fathers were
there, but in presence only. Our mothers did most of the raising
while our dads took credit for it. The only times Alex saw his dad
before he died, were the few moments he was out of prison and
selling drugs on the street corner. He was killed when Alex was ten
years old, and he refuses to ever discuss it.

The lush trees and manicured grass of the
gated community where Alex and Trey lived was like something from a
movie. In a word, it was surreal. Nothing could be that perfect.
There was no graffiti, no hooded teenagers loitering in the
streets, or liquor stores on every corner. I wouldn’t have been
surprised to see Bill Cosby walk out and offer me a pudding
pop.

I, on the other hand, stuck out like a clown
wearing a tuxedo, as I drove Ricky’s beat up old car. But I never
really felt comfortable over there anyway. It wasn’t because of
race. Trey and Alex were black, and there were a few other well to
do black people in there as well. It just seemed I gave off the
aura that I didn’t belong. Whether that came from them or me, I
didn’t know.

The usual security guard at the gate would
always just let me in, but that day there was a junior G-man there
that wouldn’t budge.

“Who are you here to see, sir?” he asked,
sounding like a drill sergeant.

“David Higgenbottom.” I answered.

“And you are?” he sneered.

“Michael Drake.”

He walked back in the security booth to call
and verify my existence. Frowning, he hung up the phone and walked
back to the car.

“Sorry about that. Go right in,” he answered
with his voice dripping with fake sincerity.

Without a word, I drove inside the
complex.

As I drove through the gates, I again
marveled at the surroundings.Trey’s apartment was on the bottom
floor, so I stopped there first. I had barely tapped on the door
before he answered it.

“It’s about time!” he shouted as he opened
the door. “We have been waiting all morning. You could have
called!” he shouted as if I was his child that had been out late on
a date. Over his shoulder I could see Alex walking towards us. “I
called Alex after we talked last night. I can’t believe what
happened. Have you talked to Sara?” he asked.

“Yeah, I stopped by there earlier.”

“How is she taking it?”

“As good as can be expected. Her dad was on
edge though. He was about ready to lose it.”

“Man, that’s messed up. So what now?” asked
Alex.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just wait until I
hear from the police again.” I replied.

“Have you called your dad?” Alex asked.

I ignored his question, but he asked again.
Trey just looked on in bewilderment.

“Have you called your dad?” he asked
again.

“He’s just trying to help. Maybe your old man
still has some contacts or something?” Trey added.

“No, and I don’t plan on it, so don’t mention
it again.”

“But if he can help-”

“I am not calling my dad,” I said
emphatically.

“Chill out,” he said to Alex. “You don’t
understand. They never got along in the first place and it just got
worse when he quit being a cop. Let’s just drop it.”

I wasn’t angry with either one of them, but
Alex didn’t know some of the history between my dad and myself. I
loved my father. He was an excellent provider, and I never worried
about a roof over my head or anything like that, but we never
really bonded the way a father and son should.

He had been a military man from the time he
was fifteen until I was born. After that he became a police officer
in Dunham Heights. I was sure he probably did still have a few
contacts in the department, but when was I going to be my own man?
I hated being called “Sarge’s boy” when I was growing up. He was
never around. If anything I was Emma’s boy, and he knew it. The
problem at hand was mine, and it was my responsibility to handle
it.

Trying to change the subject, I said, “Guess
who’s in town?”

“Who’s that?” asked Trey.

“My cousin Ricky.”

“Ricky? Is he in trouble?” he asked
suspiciously.

“Why do you ask?”

“Your cousin Ricky? You’re asking me about
your cousin Ricky? Do I have to remind you-”

“No, don’t say anything. I know. He is in a
bit of trouble. He . . .we need a favor.”

“A Favor? Oh, just name it,” he said with
mistrust.

“I’m going to get something to drink,” Alex
said as he excused himself. He had never met Ricky, but he had
heard enough stories to know he didn’t want to be in earshot of any
of my cousin’s requests.

“Does he seem to be acting a little funny to
you?” I whispered as Alex left the room.

“Chris Rock funny or serial killer
funny?”

“Neither. Something’s just not right. I
talked to him earlier today and he said we needed to talk about
something. It just seemed a little weird. You haven’t noticed
anything with him?”

“Yeah, a little. I thought maybe it was just
me. He’s probably just nervous about the draft. Who knows with him?
Now, what do you need?”

“I just need you to keep Ricky’s car here for
a couple of days. Just until the heat dies down.”

He didn’t answer. He just rubbed his hand on
his chin, thinking. “What kind of heat? Police?” he finally
asked.

“I can tell you it is not the police. That’s
all I can tell you.”

He raised his eyebrow and asked suspiciously,
“Is that all?”

“That . . . and a ride back home.”

“Y’all done yet?” Alex asked as he came back
in from the kitchen. He was finishing his soft drink when I noticed
the gleam from his wrist.

“Alex, what time is it?”

He smiled and said, “Yeah, it’s nice, huh? I
just got it today.”

He was referring to the platinum and diamond
encrusted watch that draped his wrist. At a moment, I felt the
knife of jealousy stabbing me in my gut.

“You haven’t even been drafted yet, though,”
I said.

“My agent said I needed to look the part. You
now what I mean? So I took out a little loan. I’ve got it covered
though. I’m straight.”

When I first met Alex, he had Bob Marley
dreadlocks and a mouth filled with gold teeth. It didn’t bother me
because I was raised to look at a person’s culture and not their
appearance. Alex was hard, just like where he grew up. Within the
last year he had gone through the most dramatic change I had ever
seen. Gone was the street-reared, take no prisoner’s
nineteen-year-old I met four years ago. He couldn’t even have been
a distant relative to the future corporate front man I was talking
to.

It had been so long since we were all able to
hang out that I didn’t realize how much I missed being with my
friends. We all talked a bit longer, and Trey drove me back
home.

“What about that watch?” I finally asked as
we were just about home.

“So, jealousy is named Doc Drake?”

“No, man. It’s not like that. I’m just
concerned. How much money is he spending?

“Hmmm,” he said as he took off his glasses.
“Between that watch and that new car, he dropped about a hundred
grand. That’s not counting the apartment and the clothes. Did you
see that cream-colored suit?”

“No. To tell the truth, we haven’t really
been that close lately. You know that.”

“Jealous?”

“No. Well, I try not to be. I want him to
succeed. I just can’t help wondering, you know?”

I loved Alex like he was blood, and I hoped
he made enough money so his children would never have to work. I
prayed he made it. Trey was the brain of the group. He wasn’t the
typical book smart person. He had the type of practical knowledge
that ensured his success in life.

Alex was the complete jock of the group. He
was probably the most impressive physical specimen I had ever seen.
Don’t get me wrong. He had the natural ability that all great
athletes possess, but he also had the will to win, and the desire
to do whatever necessary to do that.

Then there was me. I was probably a
combination of both. I had to work hard to succeed in the classroom
as well as the football field. I used football to get an education
and eventually provide for my family.

Alex needed football like a heroin addict
needed another fix. He couldn’t survive without it.

As Trey turned into my driveway, I asked,
“Are you going to come in and say hi to Ricky?”

“Not today. I’ll have to catch up with him
next time. I’ve got to wash my hair,” he said as he rubbed his
practically baldhead.

I got out of his car and walked around to the
driver’s side. He rolled his window down, and I said, “He’s going
to ask about you.”

“You mean he hadn’t already!” he asked with
an artificially hurt look on his face.

“Stop making jokes. Why don’t you come in and
talk to him?”