Read Mr. Mysterious In Black Online
Authors: S. Ann Cole
But there Dad was, my abuser, sitting placid in his old recliner, watching sports on television. “If he did this to me, shouldn’t he be in jail?” I’d asked my mother.
“Yes. But how would we survive if that happens, darling? He’s the breadwinner. How would we survive without him?” She’d said this smoothly, her overly long brown curls flowing down her shoulders as she dressed one of my facial scars with ointment. Her face being as beautiful as a blooming rose. She was calm and composed, and I wondered if she was being that way just for me. Just to make me calm and worry free.
“But…But what did you tell them? As in, about how I got like this?”
“That you were attacked on your way to school.” She never looked me in the eyes. Because she expected me to understand. She expected me to forgive daddy, because we couldn’t survive without his aid. And I wanted to yell at her and tell her that we wouldn’t be alive much longer
with
daddy. With daddy, we
wouldn’t
survive.
The next day as I sat on our porch in my wheelchair, sketching with my uninjured hand while mom chatted with Mrs. Forrest at the gate, Molly, my classmate who resided a few blocks away from us, skipped past the gossiping adults at my gate and up to my porch. Molly was tall with fiery red hair. She had volume in the right places, and slimness where it should be. She possessed a striking attractiveness and was lusted after by almost all breathing males, but Molly wasn’t a fan of guys. She shared her curves with the gals.
She was my only friend in the community, but I’d always shy away from her because of her eventual lusting that annoyed me no end. Now, however, I was glad for some company. Because I’d felt so alone with my missing memories, you see. And having Molly here to remind me about things that happened in recent times was life-giving.
Molly filled me in on all the important things, until she got to telling me about my ‘boyfriend’. A boyfriend that I had absolutely no memory of. Molly called this boyfriend of mine ‘The Rich One’, and told me of all the rumors that were surrounding him at present.
The Rich One, she said, visited the neighborhood no more, leaving behind all sorts of rumors. Mrs. Forrest’s daughter, Tanya, was found out to be pregnant, as was another and then another. Chatterers assumed that The Rich One was the one who’d knocked them all up, and that was the reason he no longer came around.
Darren—who hasn’t been seen either—had relocated his family in some upscale neighborhood in the west. It was nothing he could afford, so talebearers claimed it was The Rich One’s doing—for Darren was The Rich One’s closest friend of the clique. Travis was now clique leader, and he’d stop by my house asking to see me on multiple occasions when I’d been “locked away”—whatever that meant.
“It’s as if he’s vanished from the face of the planet,” Molly whispered, twirling a string of gum around her finger. “And The Nine Life Clique, they’re all being tight-lipped.”
Everyone, she said, wanted to know where the Mysterious Rich Boy from the west was. Everyone except me.
For it was then that I’d found it in my heart to forgive my father. My hate for his brutality had morphed into appreciation. Because, by the end of Molly’s tales, I was pretty sure that the lost memories of my ‘boyfriend’ weren’t sweet memories. And I prayed to God they never returned.
The high-pitched sound of my alarm wrenched me from my sleep. Sunlight streamed through the wide modern cut windows in the bedroom. It was morning. A new day, a new job, a new start.
Not entirely new, though,
I thought, as I flipped back the covers from the bed. Because, of all the dreams I’d had since I met Natalio, this was the one that decided to remain remembered. There were no flashes, no flitting in and out. This one, the worst of the memories, decided to reside.
Wasn’t I a lucky wench?
Not.
G
eo Lee was a joy to work with. He was bubbly, charismatic, jocular and gay—occupying both denotations of the double entendre. I’d left Tevin’s house a sapping mess that morning but was instantly invigorated once I’d stepped through the doors of GLFH. That, along with the aid of a large cup of must-have espresso coffee.
There we were, sitting around an immense oak table in an all-glass meeting room choosing fabrics and patterns for an upcoming fashion show. Geo Lee had gushed about a few of my designs and decided he’d run them in his show. Though the designs would bear his name, I was ecstatic that I could actually wow a fashion icon like
Geo Lee
.
Kiwan, an Asian beauty with jet black, bobbed hair and small squinted eyes, was nodding furiously at Geo Lee’s rapid words. She was an accessory designer—a hell of an accessory designer, incidentally. But she seemed overwhelmed by Geo Lee’s new requirements.
It appeared he’d canceled his previous ideas for the Fashion Show and was now taking a completely different turn on very slim time. And I assume that’s why we were around this table all day with racks, and fabrics and accessory materials strewn all about us.
My calculations were verified an hour later when Geo Lee finally collapsed in his high-back, white leather chair and beamed at me.
“You’re like my savior, Francé. I should damn well asphyxiate Natalio for keeping your talented ass away from me!” He sent his eyes to the heavens. “You remind me of myself when I just started out and my head was jam-packed with ideas. Up until last week, I thought I’d lost my touch. You see those bland work suites on display down there?” he said, pointing to the floor. On the first floor, were mannequins displaying dull, gray, black and beige work suites, for both men and women. The typical banal apparels.
“That’s what I’ve resorted to,” he sneered. “Me.
Geo Lee.
Producing such hideousness!”
Snickered I did.
“But then, I saw your vibrant, out-of-the-box sketches. And I was inspired. Like finally! Someone who understands me.”
“I am most honored to be working for you, Mr. Lee,” I replied in all humility.
“Oh, it’s my pleasure, Francé. How’s Natalio by the way?”
Crimson colored my cheeks.
Darn.
I was doing so well at keeping my thoughts of Natalio at yonder all day. My Blackberry, I’d been sure to leave it at the house so I wouldn’t be distracted by calls or texts, or be tempted
to
call or text. “Um, he’s fine. I think.”
Geo Lee regarded me with perception. “Found out he’s a vampire and dumped him? Can’t be his Bella?”
My cheeks flushed a deeper shade of crimson.
Crap. I should’ve worn a turtleneck top.
“Explains why he’s always in black,” Geo Lee teased. “But judging from the freshness of that lovebite, it can’t be more than twenty-four hours since he’s sucked your blood.”
My mouth opened and closed repeatedly, not knowing how to respond to Geo Lee’s bluntness.
Sensing my discomfort, he pursed his too-plump lips and sagely said nothing else about Natalio.
“Well, I guess that’s our day,” he muttered through an exhausted sigh. “Eleven hours spent around this table without respite. You girls should go get something to eat.”
I nodded, while Kiwan made something akin to a grunt.
For sure it was a busy day, but it didn’t feel like work to me. Every minute of it I enjoyed. It was usual for me to design, without recess, for hours. I’d been creating costumes on demand for dancers for the past three years. And dancers are impatient. If they have to wait any longer than two days, then those sales are lost.
“Any new sketches?” Geo called after me as I was about to leave.
“Tons,” I grinned.
He held out his hand.
Oh shit.
They’re at my apartment.
Geo looked at me knowingly then cast his eyes upwards, “Francé, I’ll be nice because it’s your first day, and I’ve deprived you of lunch. But if you’ll be working with me, then you must
always
be prepared. Okay?”
Abased, I nodded and bid him farewell.
As I drove home in Tevin’s Chevrolet Trailblazer—the least flashy of his four vehicles—I fought a losing battle of keeping my thoughts Natalio-free. I’d grown so attached to him, only to discover that he’s the man who was once the center of my world. The man who’d introduced me to love and happiness. The man who’d broken my heart.
What was he doing right now? I wondered. Was he frantic or did he not care that I’d left? If he’d come back into my life with the intention of shredding what was left of my heart, then I highly doubt he’d care that I’d left. Because I’d willingly given myself over to him—again. Too good an actor he was. So cruelly convincing, and just as withholding as he was when he’d ‘played’ Nelly. Only now I knew fully who he was.
A sudden zealousness flooded me, and I grew desperate to check my cell phone, desperate to know if he’d called. Not that I’d call him back, but at least it would imply he cared to some extent. My foot pressured the gas pedal hastening the trip home. But my stomach complained at being ignored again, so I steered the vehicle into
Burger King’s Drive Thru
and grabbed a Chicken Club Sandwich with Swiss cheese, a strawberry milkshake, up-size on everything. Yes, I was famished.
Anxiety ridden, I burst through Tevin’s front door, muttered a breathy “Good evening” to Kelsy who was busy in the kitchen preparing something with a yummy pungent. Hopping from foot to foot, I wrenched off my heels and bolted upstairs in search for my cell phone.
I need to know.
I need to know that this time, at least, he tried to reach out to me.
Air of relief rushed through my nostrils when I saw that I had twenty-five missed calls, four text messages and one email from him.
You remember me…
How long?
*
Have you known all along and wanted vengeance?
If so, I deserve it.
But Sadie, PLEASE, don’t leave me.
*
I knew you’d run.
Just that I never planned on what I’d do if you did.
I held my hopes too high.
Talk to me, Sadie.
I’m going crazy.
*
Answer my calls.
I need to talk to you.
Call me.
Sinking my teeth down on my lip, I willed myself not to cry. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him. I was supposed to hate him. But instead, my body was yearning for him. Longing for him to hold me tight in his arms…
No.
No longer will I allow myself to be deceived into thinking that he wants me. Of course he doesn’t! He’s a fibbing bastard. A disaster, a destroyer, and demon sent by the devil to smash my life from shards to splinters, from splinters to powder.
My fingers trembled as I opened his email.
Sadie,
I know you’re staying by Tevin’s.
Your running away is a transparent message that you don’t want to see or talk to me.
I get it.
After a frantic visit to your apartment this morning, three circles of Tevin’s complex and five trips to GLFH—where my feet wouldn’t allow me to pass the front door—I’ve ceded to the rationality of staying far-off.
I do not want to overwhelm you.
But I also don’t want you to run from me. It was never in my intention to hurt you.
It still isn’t.
You hold my heart captive. The key to my happiness is in your possession.
We need to talk.
Don’t run.
Natalio Nelson
I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry
. The mantra repeated in my head. On Natalio I would shed no more tears. I’d given him enough to crackle the walls of a dam. No more of my tears shall he gain.
No more.
I do not love him. I should not love him. I do not love him
. I just wanted him to leave me alone. No more hurt, no more pain, I could take
no more
. With an instantaneous loss of appetite, I climbed into bed, closed my eyes and knew not when I fell asleep.
“Sadie.”
Soft hands coaxed me from sleep’s darkness. My eyes opened and met the warm green irises belonging to Kelsy.
“I’ve brought you some soup,” she said softly. I blinked at her. “You must be hungry, Sadie. You came home with a Burger King meal and you haven’t touched it.”
Fisting the blurriness away from my eyes, I sat up. “What time is it?”
“A few minutes before nine. Here, eat something.” She carefully placed the tray on my lap. A red bowl of delectable gumbo. Kelsy was a consummate cook—not at all congruous with her ‘spoiled girl’ personality. But it was a trait she’d inherited from her mother, Mrs. Mitchell, who was master of the kitchens.
The aroma flooded my nostrils and my stomach grumbled in reply. “Thank you, Kels. I’m famished. A cup of espresso was all I had today.” I took a spoonful of the gumbo. As always, preparations by Kelsy’s hands were delicious.
“How was your first day at work?”
“Fun,” I managed a smile. “Geo Lee is all work and no play.”
Kelsy’s green eyes widened in horror. “And that’s fun?”
I laughed, “For me, it was. I was in my zone. I felt like a kid in a candy store.”