Luxe (3 page)

As Bleu was hustled out of the apartment, she avoided eye contact with her mother. As soon as Bleu and Wayne stepped into the hall, the putrid smell of piss and weed hit her. She hated her life. She wasn't one of the lucky kids who came from a loving home and ate three meals a day. She had to survive. Everything that she had was used, old, and worn … sometimes stolen. She went to sleep with a low growl in her stomach more often than not. She was living in the struggle and there was no way out.

“Where we going?” she asked as she followed her father down the staircase and out the front door.

“We're just going out for a spin. Give the old dragon a chance to cool off,” he said. “Miserable-ass bitch.” Bleu knew the last part wasn't meant for her to hear and she pretended she hadn't as she climbed into the passenger seat of his car. The chill inside the '85 Regal was worse than the winter hawk outside and she bundled her puffy coat tightly around her. The zipper had broken two winters ago, so she pulled the sides together to stay warm.

“It'll warm up,” Wayne said as he slid in beside her and rubbed his hands together vigorously.

“It's okay; I'm not that cold,” she responded, knowing that the heat in the beat-up car didn't work. She only said it to soothe her father's bruised ego.

“I'm sorry, baby girl,” he said. She looked up at him and could have sworn she saw tears in his eyes. He was apologizing for more than the busted heat. Her life was not supposed to be this way. She deserved better. There had been plans for better, but life had gotten in the way. A lot of bad choices had led to this. Young love gone sour had made her a bitter reminder of what Wayne and Sienna used to share. Bleu symbolized the only beautiful thing that they had ever created together. Every other part of their love had been ruined by their addiction.

He put the car into gear and began to pull away from the projects when she saw her best friend, Noah, racing her way. “What up, Mr. M, slow this bucket down,” the precocious twelve-year-old said as he tried to keep up with the car as it moved at a slow crawl out of the lot.

Wayne hit his brakes and looked over at the boy.

“Where you going?” Noah asked.

“Just riding,” Bleu replied.

“Yo, Mr. M, you happen to be going by the school? I've got football practice, but its' too cold to be out here walking,” Noah said.

“Hop in,” Wayne said.

Bleu opened her door and leaned up her seat as Noah squeezed into the back.

“Good looking out,” he responded.

“I've got one stop to make before I swing you by the school,” Wayne said.

“Cool,” Noah replied. He was four years Bleu's senior, but he had the wisdom that only the streets could put in him. The precocious boy was full of wit and more protective over Bleu than her own father was. She and Noah were two peas in a pod. They spent hours talking and dreaming about what life would be like when they were finally old enough to make it on their own. She would become a world-renowned artist and he a football star. They had it all mapped out in their heads … all they had to do was make it to the finish line, but with them coming up in a city like Flint, the odds were against them.

Wayne pulled over, stopping in front of a bank as he mumbled to himself. “Damned bitch got me jumping through hoops in my own damn house.” He turned to Bleu. “I'll be right back, baby girl. Keep the car running so that heat can kick in.”

She knew he was saving face in front of Noah. Both Wayne and Bleu knew that the raggedy car wasn't producing anything extra. Heat was a luxury; they were lucky that the ignition had even turned over. She nodded and watched as he exited the car in haste, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat as he disappeared inside.

“You straight? I heard the yelling,” Noah said when he and Bleu were finally alone.

“Yeah, I'm straight,” she replied. “After a while you get used to it.”

“You know you can stay the night in my room … anytime you want. Just climb up the fire escape,” Noah said. “I'll make sure I leave the window unlocked.”

“I'm okay,” she reiterated, slightly embarrassed. Her situation wasn't a secret. If her bummy clothes didn't give it away, the fact that Sienna had been caught on her knees sucking dick for rocks more than a few times did. Bleu's father even had been seen breaking into abandoned houses just to steal the copper pipes. Things were bad, and while the other kids on the block teased her to no end, Noah was always nice. He made her feel normal and accepted. He had let his fists fly plenty of times on her behalf. Noah was the one person in her life she could depend on, and for that she was grateful.

“Don't be proud, B,” he said. “If you need me, just come up.”

Bleu nodded, but before she could reply the sound of an alarm blared through the air as her father came running outside at full speed, a gun in one hand and a pillowcase full of money in the other.

“Oh shit!” Noah exclaimed as Wayne jumped into the car, tossing the pillowcase in the back.

“Daddy! What did you do?” Bleu yelled in alarm as she looked at the frightened look on his sweaty face. He threw the car into reverse and recklessly backed out, running over the curb and sideswiping the car beside him as he accelerated.

“Agh! Daddy!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing?”

“Everything's okay, baby girl. Everything is going to be just fine,” he said, but she saw the terror in his widened eyes. They told a different story from the one his mouth was shouting.

“Oh shit, B, look!” Noah called out. She turned to look and found him holding banded stacks of money up in both hands, but she was quickly distracted by the flashing lights that were fast approaching.

“Daddy, stop! Stop the car!”

Police sirens wailed as Wayne flew through the streets.

“Just put your seat belt on, Bleu,” he coached as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Hold on tight.”

He was in over his head. He hadn't thought things through. All he knew was that his back was against the wall. He was strung out and in need of his next high. On top of that Sienna had chewed him apart with her words, making him feel like less than a man for not being able to provide.

“Do something!” Sienna had told him. “Do any fucking thing except what you been doing!”

She had pushed him, and in a desperate move he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Drugs made people do irrational things. He had realized it almost as soon as he had brandished the gun inside the bank. The look of pure fear displayed in the bank teller's eyes had filled Wayne with regret. He was just a man, living wrong, addicted to the devil himself. Robbery wasn't Wayne's game, but it was too late to take it back. So he had stuck up the joint as remorse filled him.

Wayne pushed his old car to the max, but the beat-up old thing was no match for the Hemi engines of the police cruisers. They were right on his tail. He was driving so fast that the view outside of the windows was one big blur.

“Daddy, please stop!” Bleu screamed as she held on to the door handle tightly.

“I'm sorry, baby girl. I can't,” he whispered. He saw the upcoming highway entry and waited until the last possible second to turn sharply onto it, throwing the police cars behind him off slightly. The car took flight, jumping the curb at full speed and landing violently.

“Wooo! Hooo!” Wayne shouted, victorious. By the time the police turned around and merged back into the chase he would be long gone.

Bleu's tears clouded her vision as she turned to look at a shaken Noah.

He reached his hand between the seat and the passenger door, and she held on to him tightly.

“I did it, baby girl. Fuck your mama gon' have to say about all that money in that bag? Let's hear her run her mouth now!” Wayne shouted with a laugh, but he was stunned to silence when he saw the police barricade up ahead. The entire expressway was blocked off, and as Wayne slowed with the pace of traffic he gritted his teeth in frustration.

Bleu knew exactly how this chase would end. So did Noah. The silence that filled the car was eerie as Wayne twisted his clenched fists around the tattered leather steering wheel.

“Daddy?” Bleu called, voice shaking as tears now streamed down her face. The police were now out of their cars, on foot, walking through the lanes of slowed cars with their weapons drawn. Wayne threw his car in park and then frantically grabbed his gun. He looked at Bleu and then at Noah. “You take care of her, lil' man,” Wayne said.

He opened up the car door as the cops swarmed around him cautiously.

“Let me see your hands!”

“Daddy?” Bleu called. Wayne looked down at her, cowering in the passenger seat, trembling, and his heart broke. He was supposed to be a better man. “I don't want you to die.” Even at eight years old she knew what would happen if he got out of that car gun in hand.

Wayne blinked away tears as he nodded while looking at her whimsically. “You deserve more, mama. Be more,” he said. He tossed the 9mm onto the seat of the car and then put both of his hands up in the air.

“On your knees! Now!”

Bleu watched as her father assumed the position, apparently giving up. A sense of relief flooded her but didn't last long. The police hadn't noticed the extra gun that Wayne had tucked securely against his back. He just couldn't go out without a fight. His addiction was too full-blown to shake cold turkey, and if they threw him in jail he knew that it would be torture as he was weaned off of it. He wasn't ready to face that reality, because with it came all the devilish things he had done all for the sake of the high. In one swift movement Wayne pulled out the gun. The police didn't hesitate to fire.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Over and over again she heard the shots as they rang out into the air. “No!” she screamed as she tried to climb toward him, but the feeling of Noah pulling her back prevented her from moving.

She watched in horror as bullets riddled her father, jerking him left, then right, shattering the windshield and barely missing her as Noah held her down. The firing seemed to last forever, and when it finally ceased she bolted across the seats and out of the driver's side. The sight of him brought her to her knees. Blood soaked through her jeans as she screamed, “Daddy! Wake up! Please get up!” She looked around in slow motion as the police stood around her. Even Noah stood, speechless, as they all watched a little girl mourn the death of her father. Her face twisted in agony as she tried to pull his heavy body up from the cement. His eyes were wide open but lifeless. The coldest chill traveled down her spine as the realization hit her. She was holding on to a dead body, looking into eyes that no longer had a soul behind them, trying to listen to a heart that no longer beat. It terrified her, but she couldn't bring herself to let go. Wayne hadn't been perfect, but he was the only father she had, and her heart was heavy with sadness. She refused to move, latching on to him because she knew that it would be the last time she would ever touch him. Every time the officers tried to pry her away she would kick and scream until they gave up. They stood all around her, just looking. Her mother wouldn't come. They had no way of contacting her. She didn't have a phone. Wayne, even in his most feigned-out state, had loved Bleu, and although she hated what he did, she could never hate who he was. Her daddy.

Finally, after an hour, the police chief arrived. Her refusal to move was garnering media attention and the story had flipped to possible police brutality. The elderly graying white man burst through the crowd.

“What the fuck? This has turned into a complete circus,” he muttered.

“She won't move. Anyone goes near her and she goes crazy,” one of the officers on-site informed him.

“Get her out of here. Take her back to the station until we can get in contact with the mother. We've got some questions to ask her about the robbery. The boy too. Do this one by the book and get these fucking cameras out of here. And confiscate cell phones. The last thing I need is for this to go viral. The mayor will have my ass,” the man bitched.

Noah knelt beside Bleu. “Come on, B. You got to let go of him,” he said.

His words were unconvincing, but she knew that he was right. Reluctantly she got to her feet. Her tears had dried on her face, but her soul still cried. She was in shock, stunned into silence as she found her footing and stood. As she looked around her at all the people, it seemed unreal.

The lady she watched on the news was there. She knew her face because it was the one of the few channels they got in their cable-less household. Between the police and the citizens who had been stopped on the highway during the chase, it felt like the entire city looked at Bleu sympathetically as she walked side by side with Noah toward an awaiting squad car. She felt Noah's fingers intertwine with her own, but she was too distraught to squeeze back. Still, he never let go. Little did she know he never would.

*   *   *

Bleu said nothing, partly because she couldn't answer the officers' questions, but mostly because even at eight years old she understood that the police were not on her side. As she sat in seclusion in the small room, she stared off into space. She hadn't spoken one word since the police had brought her and Noah in. The police had separated her and Noah, treating them as if they had committed the crime themselves. She was terrified. What had the police done to her father? Where was Noah? How long were they going to keep her here? She just wanted to go home. There was no clock in the small room. In fact, besides the table that she was sitting at, it was all white walls. She had no idea how long she had been there. Minutes felt like hours, and she grew increasingly anxious the longer they made her wait.