“They came and raided Denise apartment one day when you was in school. I begged ‘dem to let me make a few calls to get you some help. The only person I got was D who said it wasn't shit he could do for us.” Yazmine paused in her story to collect her emotions. “They tried to strip me as soon as I rolled up in that bitch. I had to damn near kill dis dyke that was coming for me. I was in solitaire for the first four months in ‘dat bitch. By ‘da time I could write, you musta’ done left cause I ain't hear shit back from you. Nobody knew where you was. I was sick as hell in there over that shit. Then every once in a while Denise people said they saw you coming through but none a ‘dem had da’ sense to tell you to holla at me. I was fucked up knowing Daryl had his nasty paws on you,” my mother continued to explain during one of our recent conversations.
It didn't take long before she shared with me her haunch of Big D setting up my father's murder. I've never tolerated conjecture so I reached out to some of my BX compadres. It took a few days before someone confirmed they were paid to put a bullet in my dad's head.
“This mufuka,” I said just above a whisper. I immediately sensed the need for pillory.
“Don’t sweat it, my nigga. You ain’t slip. I’m just glad you thought to run this inquiry, ya know.” I understood he was trying to provide a little encouragement. Then there was silence for a few seconds.
“What’s the plan now, Duke?” Petey said asking for his marching orders.
“I have a few things in mind.” Immediately, David came to mind. I needed to reach out to him to assess one of my options. “Let me breathe on it for a minute and get back to you.” Petey nodded in concession. “What’s the deal with ol’ girl?” I asked as I braced myself.
“I’m still working on it. My connect got a bug in North Cacalacky…” he said referring to North Carolina and continued with, “…but he’s coming up with a dead end there. She ain’t discuss no names of family or friends wit’ nobody there. Homey came up wit’ a old boyfriend she used to fuck wit’. He should be touching down wit’ him tonight. Then he gonna holla at me about it,” Petey ended.
“Indeed, Crack,” I said dismissing him.
I stayed at the diner for about an hour after he left. I tried to think why the FEDS would be on my back and how did my mother tie into all of this. Did I have a snitch in my camp? My mind raced with question after question. Damn near everybody felt suspect to me.
Then my thoughts went to Rayna. Although the longer we were together the more she trusted to tell me about her past, I still felt she was keeping something from me. She had no family she kept in touch with? Was Michelle the only person in her circle? It couldn’t be. She would occasionally disappear for a couple of days and I had a feeling she was dipping out of town. At this point, I needed to know the skinny on everyone near me. I didn’t want to take anything at face value.
Fuck. I had fallen for Rayna. A lot. So much that I had to assess logic over emotion. I’d stepped out of character and treaded uncharted waters so to speak.
Love uncharted…hmmmmm.
The waiter came over for the third time asking if I wanted to order food instead of re-upping on tea. I left soon after leaving a $100 bill.
~~~~~~~~~~
I was meeting with Big D when my phone went off. It was my personal line but an unfamiliar number so I chose to ignore it. Afterwards I checked the voicemail and learned it was Michelle giving me a call about Rayna’s birthday. Apparently it was approaching and she wanted to be sure she wasn’t stepping on my toes with the plans that she and the girls had brewing.
They were planning a weekend reunion back in North Carolina at their alma mater. Rayna never talked about her birthday other than it was in July. And, if I understood Rayna correctly, she wasn’t exactly that tight with her fellow alum—none but Michelle, of course. She said she indulged in hanging out mostly on the strength of Michelle. I could tell she tolerated them more than she let on, but the fact of the matter was Rayna maintained that she had no friends other than Michelle. She also shared recently that North Carolina never felt like home. I wasn’t convinced she would enjoy what they had planned. It wasn’t my place to offer my opinion, so I thought to do it indirectly. I called Michelle back.
After all the greeting pleasantries and broaching the topic she asked, “Azmir, did Rayna even mention her birthday to you?” in such a parental tone.
I couldn’t lie. “Not at all.”
“Damn it, Rayna!” Michelle bit out.
“I do recall, months ago, her mentioning it was in July. When exactly in July?” I asked.
“…the twenty-first,” she answered.”