Alibi II Page 10

  “No, thanks, I’m all right, Mr. Guess,” he said, taking the seat Ray had occupied next to Beverly. It had been just a few days since the incident. But three weeks later, Beverly’s body would remain asleep, as if only a shell was left behind. Couldn’t no one be missing her more than Tyrone. With all he had to say, all his fussing, all his harshness, his tongue-lashings at times and his forgetfulness of anything remotely kind, especially on special holidays, birthdays, or any occasion that called for a celebration, there was no one more broken at the sight of Beverly than he.

  “What did they do to you, baby? What did they do? They don’t know what they did when they took you from me, baby, they don’t know what they done took from me.” It was all he could say at the sight of Beverly’s frail, worn-down body after she came out of surgery, eleven days and counting, and her head was still wrapped up, tubes draining blood from her brain. It knocked Tyrone off his feet, to say the least. He was always harsh, brassy, and extremely vulgar at times. But even as big, egotistical, and cold as he was, the sight of Beverly crashed his world, leaving him broken. He took his hat off, placed her hand in his, and began to rub her fingers as he lay his head gently on the side of the bed next to her body.

  “How you feeling, Beverly?” he asked, as if talking to the air. The doctors told everyone that it was good for her if they could talk to her. So he did, every day after work, and then on the weekends when he came to visit. He had been pleading with her, begging her, and even bargaining with her to wake up. He had promised her everything under the sun and then some. All he wanted was for her to just come back. After thirteen years of being with her, he finally realized how special and amazing she was, faced with the possibility of losing her. He had made every promise in the world to himself, to her, and to God, if she’d just wake up. He even promised he wouldn’t cheat no more.

  “Please, baby, please, come on and wake up. Beverly, it just ain’t right no more without you, baby. I promise, I’ll be a better to you. I’ll be the man you been deservin’ all these years, just come on back,” he said, tears running down his face, his head still resting on her bed next to her body.

  Every day he pleaded with her, tormented at the fact that she hadn’t awakened. “See, it just ain’t working now. I don’t know if I’m coming or going and I miss you so mu—” He stopped short, realizing he had company in the room. “Hey, Rev, hey Maeleen, what ya’ll doing here?” asked Tyrone as he jumped up, wiping his face.

  “We just came to see how she was doing,” answered Rev.

  “Yeah, its been three weeks now and she ain’t home yet, so we came on down here to fix her on up and get her on out of here. The power of His Holiness can get her walking and talking, in Jesus’ name, give sister Beverly your strength and bring her back, say amen,” said Maeleen, at the foot of the bed, rubbing Beverly’s feet.

  “Amen!” shouted Rev, like a cheerleader assigned to her squad.

  “Are y’all okay?” asked Tyrone, wondering what in the world was up with Beverly’s crazy-ass neighbors.

  “Get her two middle fingers, Rev, and tie them together for me, on the left hand first, Rev. Do the left hand first, then the right fingers, okay, and don’t forget what I told you, put a little of the oil I gave you to rub on her between her fingers when you put them together,” said Maeleen, opening up some folded aluminum foil.

  “What’s that?” asked Tyrone, a little concerned. He knew Rev, he was Donna’s brother, and Maeleen was a neighbor, but Beverly didn’t really associate with either of them as far as he could recall. She always said they were crazy and to stay away from them.

  “Just something to help get that blood moving in the body,” she quickly answered, not answering at all. “Put it in back of her earlobes, Rev, both of them.”

  “What in the world is that smell? God damn y’all, that shit stinks!”

  “Yeah, but we got to heal her up,” said Rev, smiling at Maeleen as if he were Mr. Fix-It Man.

  “Heal her up? The smell alone should snap her out of it. Damn, I can’t breathe,” Tyrone said, his nostrils unable to bear the stench in the air from whatever Maeleen had had wrapped in the aluminum foil.

  “Here, give me a match,” said Maeleen, her back now to Tyrone.

  “A match? Watchoo doing needs fire? I don’t know about lighting no fires in here, what about the oxygen and all the tubes?” Tyrone asked, worried they were going to harm Beverly, or worse, blow the whole building up.

  “Nothing, we just lighting candles, that’s all.”

  Candles? thought Tyrone. What the hell is they into?

  “Go on, baby, take him on out of here,” said Maeleen, tired of him irritating her with his ninety-nine questions and unnecessary concern.

  “Come on, Tyrone, come on with me we’ll go get some coffee,” said Rev, putting his arm around his neighbor’s shoulder.

  “I can’t leave her side,” he said, pulling away from Rev.

  “Yes you can, go on, so I can pray, I don’t want nobody in here while I’m praying,” snapped Maeleen in a tone that commanded Tyrone to do as he was being told.

  “Okay,” said Tyrone, hearing only her concern for what she was trying to do. “I do need a cup of coffee,” he said, following Rev out of the door like a robot, unable to remember what he was about to say.

  The two walked down the hall to the coffee machine located in the waiting area on the floor. They got two cups of coffee and walked back up the hall.

  “You go on and have a seat. I’ll check on Beverly.”

  Rev went into the room while Tyrone sat outside the door. In less than two minutes Uncle Ray Ray walked up to him and stood over him.

  “What you doing out here?” he asked, startling Tyrone, who honestly hadn’t heard him.

  “Rev and Maeleen came and Maeleen said she wanted to pray for her, and I went and go…” Tyrone didn’t need to say more. Uncle Ray Ray headed for the door to Beverly’s room while Tyrone was still speaking.

  “What, what’s wrong?” asked Tyrone as Uncle Ray Ray opened the door to Beverly’s room, interrupting Maeleen’s séance with lighted candles and a stench in the air that would turn a skunk running the other way. Maeleen had her arms stretched above her head and was standing over Beverly, chanting, or praying, as she called it.

  Any other given Sunday, as if he were Jamie himself, he would have whooped and hollered, but not today. His niece’s prognosis wasn’t for the better, it was for the worse. So what harm could Maeleen do. Awww, never mind, no way. He closed the door behind him as Maeleen snapped her fingers at him and shooed him out of the room.

  Crystal and the baby showed up at the hospital just as Uncle Ray Ray was sitting back down.

  “You don’t want to go in there right now,” advised Ray. “She’s a little busy,” he noted sarcastically and nodded at Rev.

  “Yeah, it won’t be much longer, trust me, Beverly gonna be up and walking and talking and everybody’s gonna call it a miracle. But the power of the Holy Ghost is strong,” he said, nodding. “Real strong,” he agreed with himself.

  Lord have mercy, this boy is crazy, somebody really needs to get him some help. Uncle Ray Ray just looked Rev up and down, wishing all the best for his poor soul.

  Crystal and the baby took a seat next to Ray Ray. She told him how she and her momma had made up and her momma wanted her to move back home. Ray was silent for a moment, not saying a word.

  “If you ever need to come back, you and the baby, you just come on back home, you understand?”

  Thank you, Uncle Ray Ray, you’re the best uncle I ain’t never have,” she said, smiling.

  “You just remember what I said, you and that baby always got a place to stay with me and Beverly,” he said, thinking to himself how that would have sounded if he had to say it without Beverly on the end. He had lived with Beverly and Nard for the past twelve years. Now, Crystal and the baby were going back home with her momma and he would be going home to an empty house tonight.

  “Thanks, Uncle Ray
Ray,” she said, giving him a hug.

  “I’m gonna miss you, little girl,” he said, patting the baby on her head. “You woke me up every night, but that’s okay. I’m still gonna miss you.”

  It was a tearful good-bye for Ray Ray and Crystal. Even Tyrone and Rev were wiping their eyes when Ray Ray happened to glance at them.

  “Rev, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I can’t take it, it’s just so sad.”

  “Boy, be quiet and go check on Maeleen, make sure she don’t got Beverly in that motherfucker floating up to the ceiling or worse.”

  “Worse how?” asked Tyrone nervously.

  “God only knows, son, God only knows.”

  Green Prison, Waynesburg, Pennsylvania

  6:30 p.m.

  As darkness fell upon the city of brotherly love, Nard sat lonely in a tiny four-by-six cell in the isolation unit. He had been transported by bus from CFCF up on State Road, where he had stayed for the past six months waiting for trial. He had gotten comfortable at CFCF, accustomed to the routine. However, he was whisked away and deported to Green, a state penitentiary located in Waynesburg, Pennsylvania. Upon arrival, he and a group of seven others were subjected to intake. He was sprayed for bugs, lice, crabs, and any other type of growing infestation one could think of. His hair was cut to meet the prison intake standards, no afros, no braids, no dreads, no hair. But, once in population, he could grow his hair like a beanstalk to the sky if he wanted. For the next two weeks he would sit in a cell, no mail, no phone calls, no human contact, no nothing. It was standard intake for all new inmates to go through isolation. Afterward, he would be brought into the prison population, assigned a block, and assigned to a cell where Wink already had his people waiting for him to touch down.

  He lay on his metal bunk connected to the cylinder wall. The reality that he wasn’t going home began to set in. He thought about the holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year that was approaching. He wouldn’t have the holidays with his mom, and Uncle Ray Ray, and his cousins. He thought of Chris, and wondered if the family knew he was strung out on drugs. He knew because he had been selling drugs to him. He missed his family life, his mother and Uncle Ray Ray. He thought of his mother, silently, and deep down inside he knew that the drive-by hadn’t been accidental. Please God, please don’t let her die. He had begged his counselor to let him visit her. But he had already been found guilty and wasn’t being released, he was in holding waiting for sentencing, he never had bail when he was waiting for trial, he sat all that time. The only good thing was that he’d get those six months back for time served. After the prison denied him the opportunity to visit his mother, he realized how much colder life would seem without her, not that it wasn’t cold enough, but without his mother, it would be freezing.

  Please don’t let my mother die, God. Please don’t let her die. He bargained with God, pleading for his mother’s life, not even thinking of his own. Little did he know, he would be the one needing all the prayers he could get. He rolled over, facing the cold, hard cinderblock wall. I wish I was home, please God get me out of here.

  Later That Night

  1:16 a.m.

  It was the middle of the night. The phone was ringing like an alarm. Tommy rolled over, looked at the green numbers on his clock radio. It’s one-sixteen, who the fuck is calling me in the middle of the night? He answered the call on the third ring as Vivian rolled away from him.

  “Who is it?” she mumbled.

  “It’s okay, go back to sleep,” he said, brushing her hair out of her face.

  “What the fuck is wrong? It’s the fucking middle of the night.”

  “Meet me outside.”

  The line went dead. Tommy cradled the handset and lay it back down on the receiver.

  He picked up his pants, slid on a pair of Converse sneakers, and grabbed a jacket. He looked at Vivian. She was knocked out, sleeping like a baby.

  He made his way outside. Walked down the street to the corner and spotted a triple black 1986 Cadillac Seville with the slanted back parked down the street. He got into the car as Patricio started the engine.

  “Where we going?” asked Tommy, wondering where Patricio was taking him.

  “Fucking cops keep riding by me, looking at me like they ain’t got shit else to do. What the fuck is wrong with your fucking people?” he asked his cousin, slapping his shoulder as he laughed at him.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Eh, come on, we ain’t going far.”

  Patricio took a quick ten-minute ride to an old steel factory. He drove through the security station and to the back of a building. He parked the Cadillac next to two other Cadillacs.

  “Come on, we caught that fucking mole Internal Affairs had tracking you.”

  “No fucking way, that fast, how’d you know?”

  “You know how it is, Tommy. It’s as simple as picking up a pay phone and as quick as a payoff,” he joked, slamming his car door. “Come on, let’s go.”

  They walked into the building. The sounds of torture and a woman screaming could be heard the moment they walked through the door.

  “What the fuck, it’s a woman?”

  “Hey, pain is all we got, Tommy. This bitch was investigating you, trying to take us out. You hear me? The family…only God knows. I’m telling you, it could have been really bad for the family, Tommy, really bad for the family.”

  Patricio swung the door open and held it open for Tommy. Tommy walked into the room, his eyes bulging out of his head.

  “Merva?” he looked twice, unable to believe she was the rat that his family had caught. “Merva Ross, she’s Internal Affairs?” he asked his cousin. “You got to be kidding me,” he joked to his cousin, until he heard Merva speak.

  “Tommy, please, Tommy, please, I won’t say a word, Tommy, please. I won’t say a word. I swear on everything, Tommy, please help me, Tommy.”

  Tommy looked at Merva. Her wrists were tied tightly and her body was dangling from a metal hook above her head. She was bleeding from her mouth, her makeup worn and stained from crying.

  “What the fuck?” He spun around and began pacing. He pulled out a pack of Marlboro Lights from his back pocket, turned, and faced her.

  “Why would you even take the case from Internal Affairs in the first place? Why didn’t you come and tell me?” he yelled at her. “Why?” he said, grabbing the side of her face, really not wanting to have to hurt her.

  “Please, Tommy, I’m sorry. I had no choice, Tommy, they made me report to them…I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Report, what? What did you tell them?” he asked, demanding an answer with the tone of his voice as he squeezed the sides of her head, shaking it in the palms of his hands.

  She hesitated as if she didn’t know what to say.

  “What the fuck did you tell them?” he yelled at her again.

  “Tommy, fuck this nigger pig, she’ll fucking answer me when I’m fucking done. I’ll know everything she told them,” Joey said, holding up a pair of jumper cables as he watched Frankie tear off a piece of electrical tape from the roll to cover Merva’s mouth. Joey checked the jumper cables, making sure they were securely connected to an electrical unit that would supply doses of electrical shocks to Merva once the cable touched her skin. Joey turned the electricity on and indicated the cables he was holding with his eyes. Frankie moved slowly toward her, placing the electrical tape over her mouth, no longer giving her any options. Her eyes pleaded with Tommy to save her life.

  “Fuck, man! Merva, what the fuck is wrong with you!” He couldn’t believe it was her. He couldn’t believe she was the one investigating him for Internal Affairs. “Why you!” he screamed at her. “Why?” he asked as he spun around, thoughts flashing in and out of his mind. He stopped, focused, pointed to his cousin Joey and his cousin Frankie.

  “Find out everything she knows.”

  He turned and walked out of the room, unable to watch as the
y would indeed torture her half to death. Pain had a way of making people talk no matter how strong the will. Two cigarettes and ten minutes later Patricio emerged from the building holding Merva’s pinky toe in one hand and a pair of cutting shears in the other.

  “What the fuck?” asked Tommy, looking at his cousin, covered in burgundy blood.

  “I only cut off her pinky toe,” he responded, looking just like the cat who ate the canary. “I don’t think they know too much. She knows you are a Gatto, though, so you’re definitely not hiding behind that corny name of yours in the department.”

  “The department knows my real name?”

  “Yeah, and they know that we are an organized crime family. But she doesn’t know much more than that. She said they came to her last year to investigate any possible dealings with you and your organized crime family. She said her report on you was clean. She swears on everything she reported no activity in organized crime of any sort on your part and she said it was submitted over a month ago.”

  Tommy looked up into the sky, then down at the ground, then at Patricio.

  “But umm…I just wanted to make sure you want us to kill her, right?”

  “I just can’t believe it’s Merva.”

  “Why? Why can’t you believe this bitch is a fucking rat?”

  “I’m with her every day. I never had a clue.”

  “Well, stop fucking partying at night, drinking and doing drugs, going to work high, and pay attention, Tommy. You’re a fucking cop, come on, for Pete’s sake, whadda you expect?”

  “No, really, I was with her every day. She was my partner.”

  “Well, good for her, she had you fooled, so all that makes her is a clever rat, but a rat is still a rat, and they can’t be trusted, Tommy. Tell me what to do.”

  “We kill Ross, they’re just going to send someone else,” said Tommy, thinking out loud.

  “And we’ll pinpoint the next one, Tommy, just like we always do. It’s what we do, we catch rats and we exterminate them, we’re the mob,” nodded Patricio, his smile devious.