The apartment. Thinking about it filled him with longing and pain. “I want my life back,” he said. “I want Marcus back.” It was saying his name that did it. Isaiah’s conscience came busting through the wall of his denial like the battering ram, Marcus storming through the gap. Isaiah knew exactly what his brother would say and how he’d say it. His voice raw like he’d been screaming, one hand judo-chopping the other like he was trying to cut it in half.
What have you done? What have you done? This is your fault. Yours. Don’t shake your head. You made the war happen. You tipped the first domino the minute you decided to be a criminal and one after the other the whole chain fell and now here we are. Those innocent people dead and their son without a mother or a father. Yes, I know you were grieving but you couldn’t deal with it any better than this? The only choice you could make was to be a thief? What happened to your sense of decency? What happened to your morals? Wasting my time on you all those years and for what? So you could use your gift to be a leech, a parasite, a scum-of-the-earth lowlife criminal?
Isaiah walked faster, almost running, but he couldn’t get away from Marcus’s voice, his presence so real it was breathing down his neck and stepping on his heels, making him stumble.
Where’re you going, Isaiah? Think you can walk away from this? You can walk all the way to Timbuktu but those folks will still be dead and that boy will still be an orphan. What are you going to do about him, Isaiah? Haven’t given that a thought, have you? Well, you better start thinking about it and figure out how to make this right or I will be in your face and in your dreams every day and every night for the rest of your miserable life.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The Inside Man
July 2013
Cal’s second cell phone was buzzing for the fourth time in twenty minutes and nobody had the number except DStar, the crew, Bobby Grimes, and his mother. It pissed him off. Everybody had been told not to call, text, or even knock on the door unless the house was burning down. Maybe that was what he should do, thought Cal. Burn up the biggest meaningless possession he had. How ’bout that, Dr. Freeman? How ’bout if I set my house on fire? The phone kept buzzing. Cal only got up to answer it because it might be DStar and the Klonopin supply was running low.
“Is this Mr. Wright? Mr. Calvin Wright?” A white boy’s voice.
“Yeah, this is Mr. Calvin Wright. Who the fuck are you and how’d you get this number?”
“My name is Brian Sterling, sir. I’m Dr. Freeman’s executive assistant.”
“’Scuse me?”
“I work for Dr. Freeman. Dr. Russell Freeman?”
“The Dr. Freeman I heard on the radio? The Dr. Freeman that wrote that book?”
“Yes sir, and let me tell you why I’m calling. Your internist, Dr. Macklin, spoke with Dr. Freeman and gave him a detailed report about how you were experiencing severe burnout symptoms. Dr. Freeman was concerned and asked me to call you.”
“Dr. Freeman knows about me?”
“Like I said, sir, Dr. Macklin gave him a full report.”
Cal couldn’t remember giving Dr. Macklin permission to give full reports to anybody, let alone Dr. Freeman, but his memory was shot to shit.
“We understand there’s been a problem utilizing Dr. Freeman’s book.”
“I can’t seem to get the full effect.”
“Sometimes that happens when the case is as complex and critical as yours.”
Calvin was relieved to hear his case was complex and critical. Everybody else thought he was crazy.
“Fortunately, Dr. Freeman had a cancellation,” Brian said, “and there’s an opening in his schedule tomorrow at eleven. Would you be able to come in?”
Cal hesitated. He wanted to see Dr. Freeman but he didn’t get up until two or three in the afternoon and he needed time to prepare himself, get his mind right, get some more Klonopin from DStar. “You got anything next week?” he said.
“I’m afraid not, sir. Dr. Freeman is leaving town on his book tour. Europe, Asia, Germany. He won’t be back until January.”
“That’s my choice, tomorrow or next year?”
“Basically, yes.”
Brian told Cal not to discuss the appointment with anyone, not even his friends. A famous rapper seeing Dr. Freeman would be a headline in the tabloids. Brian also explained that special accommodations had been made for celebrities so they could visit the office unseen, and he went over them twice.
“Aight then,” Cal said, “I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”
“Very good, Mr. Wright,” Brian said. “Dr. Freeman is looking forward to meeting you. He’s a big fan of your music.”