The Union (15 page)

He got up to look at the picture. He had only seen it one time before this. “I love her too Mrs. Davis. That’s why I’m here.” Mox picked the picture up and stared at it. A recollection of that day materialized in his brain. It felt like it had just happened.

He saw how happy Priscilla was and then he thought on how weary she had looked the last time he’d seen her. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fall out and snivel right there in the middle of Mrs. Davis’ living room. His heart was sore and contorted because he believed his self-centeredness may have been the cause of her stress, and down the line she didn’t make rational decisions.

“Have you heard from her?” He asked.

“In the last year, I got two letters from Priscilla. One was mines…” She pushed the envelope on the table closer to Mox. “And this one is yours.”

He picked it up and ripped it open:

Mox,

I am not writing this letter to apologize for anything I did in the past. If I did it, it was meant to be done. You left me when things got rough and I tried. I tried my hardest to hate every bone in your body, but I couldn’t. It’s just something that’s not allowing me to have any type of animosity towards you and I can’t even explain it.

When I found out I was pregnant with Brandi, I was overjoyed. I wanted the chance to speak to you so bad. I wanted to tell you that we were going to have a child, but that never happened.

For six long years I wondered what was going on with you. I didn’t know if you were dead, sick or what. I was lost without you, Mox, and it never even crossed your mind that someone on the outside, who truly loved you, was concerned.

Leaving all that in the past; today is a new day and I now have a clear and precise outlook on my life. I’ve been in this rehabilitation center for the past few weeks and things are going pretty good. I’m looking forward to coming home and seeing Brandi. How’s she doing?

Mox, if it’s not too much to ask, my mother’s rent is two months past due and I’m not able to take care of her the way I was when I was there. We don’t get along, but I did make sure she had a roof over her head and food in her refrigerator. Whatever you can part with, will be appreciated.

I should be coming home any day now. The counselors in this program are helping me find an apartment, get a job and enroll back into school. I’m excited. I can’t wait to start over and I also can’t wait to see my babygirl.

Things are different now Mox. Maybe there’s still room for US.

Love you! And see you soon!!

Priscilla,

P.S. Tell my baby I love her and give her a HUGE kiss for me.

Mox put the letter back in the envelope and sat down. “Mrs. Davis, I got something I need to speak to you about.” He wasn’t prepared to tell her, but he had to. He was thinking maybe she could help the process go a little smoother. He breathed deeply. “I don’t know if Priscilla told you, but she left Brandi with me and there’s a little problem now.”

“What do you mean?”

Mox got straight to the point. “I had someone babysit Brandi while I was working and this particular person’s house got raided by the police. They found drugs and money in the apartment and CPS took Brandi.”

“Oh, my God… Mox you have to get her back. Priscilla will go crazy. Oh, poor baby. I know that little angel is scared.”

“I know. That’s part of the reason for me coming here. I need your help.”

Mrs. Davis stood up. “If it has anything to do with Priscilla or Brandi, I’m sorry but I can’t get involved.”

Mox was stunned.
How could she say something like that? This was her blood.
“I don’t understand. This is your granddaughter I’m talking about. I would go get her if I could, but my name isn’t on her birth certificate. It has to be immediate family. If you go in there, there’s no way they can deny you. We can go get her today.”

The distressed expression on her face wasn’t the one Mox was looking for. “I’m sorry Mox, I can’t. A long time ago Priscilla told me to stay out of her and Brandi’s life… and that’s how it’s been since that day. It hurts, don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter and my grandchild, but that’s a road that I refuse to travel down again. Priscilla may not have told you how tainted our relationship is, and I’m not going to get into it. If she wants you to know, she’ll tell you, but what I will say is, we’ve never had a good standing between us and that’s just what it is. I wish it was different, but it’s not.”

He tried to understand, but he just couldn’t. “So, you’re not gonna help me?”

“Mox, the only thing I can do for you is pray and have faith in God because he always does the right thing. Sometimes we may ask why and other times we even doubt him, but trust me, if you have credence and you admit him into your life, he will heal you and guide you down that path of rectitude and spiritual bliss. Then, and only then, can you begin to understand why things happen the way they do.”

Religion was something Mox never really delved into, although during his incarceration he did thumb through the Bible a couple of times and study a few scriptures out of the Quran, but he wasn’t too keen on acquiring the knowledge of a single creed. His sharpest memory of God had been the prayer he heard before he saw his mother and father’s ravaged bodies.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.

He had memorized the prayer from that moment on. To him, it meant if he admitted his wrong doings to God, he wouldn’t be judged, but forgiven and cleansed of sin.

Mox got up to leave. There was nothing more he could say. He gave Mrs. Davis a hug and a peck on the cheek. “I have no choice but to respect your decision. I wish things were different between you and your daughter, but I see that’s something you and her have to handle.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of one-hundred dollar bills and a piece of paper with his name and number on it. He counted out two thousand dollars and put the money and his information on the table.

“If you ever have a change of heart, I’m only a phone call away. The money is for groceries and anything else you need. I’ll make sure the rent is paid until Priscilla comes back so you don’t have to worry about that.

“Mox, thank you, but I can’t take your money.”

SEVENTEEN

The teeming rains cascaded from the dusky, grey clouds that loomed in the air on the pained friday morning of Vito Telesco’s funeral. It was a spectacle. The bosses from all five families were in attendance, including a number of immediate family members and friends who were there to show support to each other in a time of grief.

Vinny’s wife, daughter, and son stood alongside him under large, black umbrellas, shedding tears and watching as they lowered the $12,000 gold trimmed casket into the ground. Vito’s final resting place would be the St. John’s cemetery in Middle Village Queens, NY where a private mausoleum held the body of one of the most infamous crime figures in history, Salvatore (Charlie) “Lucky” Luciano.

Domenic Conte, the boss of the Gambino family walked over to Vinny before everyone left the cemetery. He was wearing a long, oyster colored trench coat, shiny black shoes and a matching fedora. He grabbed Vinny’s hand and kissed both sides of his face. “Mi dispiace (I’m sorry) Vinny, little Vito was like a son to me. I remember when he was born, God bless him. Hey,” he moved in closer to whisper in Vinny’s ear, “hurry up and take care of this fuckin’ thing before it gets outta hand. I don’t wanna get involved.” He patted Vinny on the back and went to get in his car.

Mikey saw the strain all over his father’s face. “Pop, you okay?”

“I just had to bury your brother, Mikey. What do you think?” Vinny opened the limousine door and got into the back seat.

“Well, if you need me to do anything, just let me know.”

The back window came down and Vinny scowled. “I want their fuckin’ heads Mikey, all of ‘em… Mox, Cleo, the mother, brothers, sisters, cousins… whoever got the same blood running through their veins is fuckin’ dead!” he spat. “You better handle this Mikey and I’m not joking around.”

EIGHTEEN

The Charles K. Post Treatment & Rehabilitation Center in Brentwood, Long Island is where Priscilla had spent her last 90 days. After Ryan humiliated her in the street, she kept her promise and signed into the program in order to make a change for the betterment of her and Brandi’s life. She was fully aware that at the pace she had been running the streets, it wouldn’t have been too much longer before she would have gotten locked up and or even worse, killed.

The time away, allowed her to reflect on the series of events that led up to her decline. Since the day Mox disappeared out of her life, everything began to go downhill. She couldn’t digest the fact that one day he was there and they were together, connected like links in a chain and then, he was gone and she was abandoned. Things really got bad when Priscilla found out she was pregnant with Brandi. That’s when she fell into an unmanageable state of depression and with Ryan feeding her drugs; it only worsened her state of mind.

It took a few weeks for it to register, but after a while, Priscilla realized that Mox wasn’t coming back anytime soon. She was still getting coke from Juan Carlos, but when she got with Ryan he couldn’t move the same amount of weight as Mox had been moving and the money was coming up short every time.

 
After taking too many losses, Juan Carlos told Priscilla he was no longer doing business with her; at least until Mox returned.

She was pregnant, broke, and had developed a new drug habit that she couldn’t afford. The only thing left to do, was exactly what she had vowed to never do and that was become what her mother
 
had always called her.

Ryan had never given Priscilla a dime, so when she went broke; she had to do for herself. Whatever it took to put food and clean diapers on her baby girl, she did. Plenty of nights, she would starve because the only money she could hustle up would be enough for some formula for Brandi. She stole everything from bottles of Gerber baby food out of Stop & Shop to an $800 dollar power folding stroller out of Toys R Us.

She ran a scam on the department of social services and figured out a way to get much more money than she should have been getting. The extra finances helped her secure her own living space. She was able to rent a room for $500 a month.

Every day, Priscilla would tell herself that she was going to kick the habit, but every day the habit continued to kick her. By the time Brandi was 4 years old, Priscilla was all the way strung out on cocaine and the effects of the highly addictive drug were more than obvious. Certain areas of her skin darkened and her hair became dry and frizzled. The only thing she thought about throughout the day was coke. It got so bad that her sinus and nostril tissue were permanently scarred. She no longer loved herself inside or out. She didn’t care. She became physically dependent on the drug and needed it to function.

But everything changed the moment she walked through the doors of the treatment center. It felt like a ton of weight fell from her shoulders as soon as she signed the agreement papers.

The first week of her withdrawal was the worst, because her body craved more of the drug than usual and her obsession to use had increased. Instead of giving in to her cravings, Priscilla had to occupy her mind with new and unconnected thoughts to distance herself from the norm. She had to become somebody new, and in order to do that she needed to let it all out.

When she started her one on one therapy sessions with her counselor, Priscilla was distant and unresponsive. She wasn’t comfortable opening up to people she knew, so a stranger was out of the question. It took some time, but eventually she started to express herself and show some progress.

A couple weeks later she was ready for the group sessions.

“Hello, my name is Priscilla… and I’m an addict.”

On her journey through the twelve step program, Priscilla discovered a new life and gradually shed all the fear and emotions she kept locked inside of her. It was a new breath and a rejuvenated experience. She listened as other addicts shared their stories of joy and horror and when it became her turn, she was delighted to partake.

“Hello, my name is Priscilla and I’m addicted to cocaine.”

“Hello, Priscilla.” The group said together.

She continued. “I came here four months ago after my ex-boyfriend beat me up in the streets. I’m thirty years old and I have a six year old daughter who I abandoned just so I could go off and get high. Excuse me y’all.” her eyes got watery and she wiped them.

“It’s alright, baby…” A white girl named Jennifer said. She and Priscilla had met through the program three months ago. They had been cool since. “We all made mistakes that we knew were wrong when we were doing them. It’s all good. Jus’ let it out.”

Jennifer as the only friend Priscilla had in the program. Everybody gravitated to at least one person they could trust and confide in and she was just that. She and Priscilla had a lot in common. They were beautiful, young females with daughters, a drug habit and tons of hate in their blood towards their mothers.

Priscilla kept going. “I never told anyone this, but when I was nine years old, my mother and father separated and not too long after, she had a new boyfriend. From the day he walked through the door I knew he was the devil. I tried to tell my mother how I felt and she just brushed my feelings off to the side. After six months of them dating, she let this stranger move into our house. There were nights I would jump out of my sleep because I felt someone’s presence and sure enough, it would be him, standing over me, drilling me with those satanic like eyes of his.”

Her tears started to flow again, but this time she let them fall. “It started with the disgusting looks and it escalated to him touching me, and eventually, he pinned me down in my own bed and raped me.” The entire room had an eerie silence and nobody could look Priscilla in the face. “I told my mother about it the next day and you know what she did?” Priscilla paused. “That bitch told me I was lying and she whopped my ass everyday faithfully, until I told her I had made the story up. To this day, she still doesn’t believe he raped me.”

Her story had the whole room in tears. Jennifer got up from her seat and went over to give Priscilla a hug. They cried and embraced for a minute. Priscilla had just rid herself of dead weight she had been holding onto for twenty years and it felt remarkable. It helped her move on to the next phase of her new life.

All eighteen group members stood up and started clapping. They were proud of the progress Priscilla had made since her arrival and in a few hours she would be on her way out the door to start her new life.

Jennifer tapped her leg. “Hey, you better not forget about me when you get back in the world.”