Three the Hard Way: A Play in Two Acts (14 page)

BOOK: Three the Hard Way: A Play in Two Acts
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"If you had been gone much longer, I would have. What did you find out?"

"I had to go outside to be sure, but the road leading in here isn’t blocked."

"That’s good. At least they’ll be able to get to the house when they get here."

"It’s bad out there, baby. It doesn’t seem like it’s gonna letup anytime soon."

"Are you all right?"

"I’m okay; just a little scared, that’s all. I’m just worried about you and when Jamaica will get here," CeCe said and got up again.

"We’ll be all right. Jamaica will make it here and everything will be fine," he said and tried to move, but it hurt.

"Are you all right?" CeCe asked.

"I’m okay."

"You sure?"

"Really . . . I’m okay."

"Was Cassandra murdered here on the island?"

"No. We had moved back to the city and had been back for about a year before it happened."

"If she was safe here, why did you go back to New York?"

"Her getting back to New York, I really didn’t have much choice in. She was never really happy here. She missed the city and always wanted to go back. But I was against it, and since there was a warrant for her arrest because of the incident I told you about, I had a good enough reason to keep her here. To keep her safe."

"So what happened to change all that?"

"She was kidnapped, and they brought her to New York."

"Oh," CeCe said, and it was obvious that she wasn’t expecting or ready for that answer.

"Something else Bobby didn’t tell you, huh?"

"Yes, and me and Bobby Ray are gonna have to have a talk about that as soon as we get back. He is really falling down on his job."

"That’s two points for Bobby in my book."

"So what happened? How’d she get kidnapped?"

"You really want to hear this?"

"Yes, I do."

"I forgot . . . me opening up, right?"

"It may be a window into the life I claim I want to live." CeCe started to say the life she was going to live when she became Mrs. Mike Black, but she didn’t want to shake him up.

"Okay. It all began one weekend when Nick was down here. Me and Cassandra had just had a fight about her wanting to go back to the city."

"So she got herself kidnapped?"

"No. You want to hear this or not?"

"I’m sorry. I’ll keep my jokes to myself. You go on. Nick was down here and—"

"They were at the club we own down here when Nick thought he saw somebody he knew. The guy turned out to be an undercover DEA agent. Next thing you know, one of them looked at Nick, took out his gun and shot the DEA agent in the head. When he turned and fired on Nick, Cassandra grabbed the pump."

CeCe sat riveted as Black told her the story of how Cassandra rose up, took aim, fired at and dropped one of the men.

"But with her back turned, she didn’t see one of the men get up. Shots were fired, and they ended up taking Cassandra hostage."

CeCe looked at Black and all she could do was shake her head. It was a fantastic story—one that she couldn’t imagine herself being in.
She got kidnapped thinking she was Pam Grier again,
CeCe thought but thought better of saying
.

She wondered if she had been in that position, would she have grabbed the pump and come up blasting or would she have hit the floor and covered her head until the shooting stopped. CeCe looked at the gun that she had taken from Black before she ran out in the rain to get the car and thought,
What if?

What if somebody was out there waiting? Would she have the courage to raise the weapon, aim and pull the trigger? She didn’t know, and there was a part of her that didn’t want to know, and glad that she didn’t have to find out.

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

Mike
Black

 

Look at her; sitting there by candlelight with Kevon’s gun on the sink next to her. Her hair was a mess and the little bit of makeup that she does wear, was gone from being out in the rain. That beautiful dress was now covered with my blood and looks like she slept in it. Still, Cameisha Collins was a beautiful woman.

We had been there for hours waiting for Jamaica to come rescue us. Damn, I hate the idea of that, having to be rescued I mean. Even though he would tell you different, it only happened one other time in my life, and that was by Bobby, so that didn’t count. But CeCe saved my life. If she hadn’t been here, I would’ve been dead when Jamaica made it.

Which was another thing I wondered; where the fuck was he? I knew he was trying to make it through a bad tropical storm and on a rough road, but damn, he needed to hurry. No matter what, CeCe was great company. She’d always been. And like I said, I owed her my life.

I remember saying to Cassandra once, "They say relationships that begin under extreme circumstances never last."

And she told me, "Maybe for other people, but not us."

Was this our extreme circumstance and would it have the same effect of binding us together the way it had for me and Cassandra? Once again, I found the parallel interesting.

Cassandra.

CeCe was right about one thing: I was still in love with Cassandra. I thought about what she said,
"How do I compete with a dead woman? How do I get past all the memories you cling to about her, and the love the two of you had?"

I told her that it was something that she had to work out for herself. But that was wrong. Wrong for me to say it to her; wrong because it wasn’t true. It was something I needed to work out.

Cassandra is dead.

She’s never coming back—I know that.

But at times, I act like she was just gone on a long trip and would be back any day now, so I couldn’t be hooked up too seriously with another woman. But that was a fantasy I unconsciously chose to cling to.

Cassandra
is
dead.

Sometimes I feel like every minute I spent with CeCe, I was being unfaithful to my wife. In many ways, I was. Unfaithful to her memory. Unfaithful to the memory of the happiest years of my life. We were like words and music. Words and music to the greatest love story ever. I didn’t know how to get past all that and move on with my life. Memories of my life with Cassandra occupied both my heart and my mind. And they left very little room for any thing or any body. Still CeCe managed to squeeze herself into that space and fought for position. A position that I denied her, either conscientiously or unconscientiously. And the reason is that I still loved Cassandra and I don’t think that would ever change.

I needed to get to the point where I could honor her memory, keep her in my heart, in my mind, and still have enough left to give to another woman.

I looked at CeCe again and wondered if it was going to be her. Or would I continue to keep her at arms distance, or worse, push her away. I wondered what she was thinking. It seemed she could see it on my face.

"What?" CeCe asked.

"What?"

"You’re looking at me like you wanna ask me something."

"I was just wondering what you were thinking about?"

"Just thinking."

"What about?"

"About you. You know . . . hoping you’ll be all right. Thinking about us; about the stories you’ve been telling me. Thinking about whether that is the life I’m choosing for myself."

"Is that how you feel?"

"I don’t. At least not anymore. I’ll tell you something. Until today, I thought that your wife—"

"Cassandra. You can call her Cassandra, or Shy, whichever you feel comfortable with," I told her. Taking what I thought might be a good first step to letting go.

"Okay. Until today, I thought me and Shy had a lot in common, but now I see that we really don’t. Shy was gangster."

"Maybe, but she was very much the lady, just like you."

"I wouldn’t know it from the stuff you’ve told me about her. The way Bobby made it seem, she was this sweet innocent college girl that fell for you. You know, like me," CeCe smiled.

"She had a dual degree in management and marketing."

"She’s still more gangster than I am. I looked at this gun and I wondered what if there was somebody out there, what would I have done?"

"Let’s hope you never have to find out," I said.

I began to feel cold all over, lying there on the floor. "CeCe." She looked at me. "I’m starting to get cold. Come lay next to me," I said, hoping to use her warmth. CeCe got up and lay down on the floor next to me.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"Yes," I lied. It didn’t feel any better. I felt a little lightheaded, and I closed my eyes. I saw Freeze running toward me. "Yo, Black, wait up," he yelled. At first I thought that I had fallen asleep and was dreaming. But this wasn’t like any dream I ever had.

I saw myself standing on a corner waiting for Freeze to catch up with me. He looked so young, and so did I. Then I realized what I seeing was the day that Freeze started working for me.

"Yo, Freeze, what’s up? I thought you were on lockdown for murder?"

"I got the murder charge dropped on a tech. Cops fucked up the arrest. So I got a year for aggravated and walked. Yo, Black . . . so yo like, where you headin’?"

I remember the way I just looked at him when he asked me that. I was like who the fuck does this kid think he’s talkin’ to?

"What I really mean is, like, you know, a nigga like me could learn a lot from a nigga like you." Freeze didn’t make eye contact with me.

I just laughed at him. "Yeah, like how to stay out of jail."

"You never been to jail, Black?"

"Never even been cuffed."

"That's what I’m talkin’ ’bout. After bein’ on lockdown for damn near sixteen months, I know I never want to go back. Lockdown ain't no place for me."

"Okay. You come with me. You do exactly what I say. And I never, and I mean never, want to hear you say shit unless I ask you. Got that?" Freeze nodded his head without saying a word. "Good. Now let’s go."

"No, Black," Freeze said and shook his head. "It’s not your time yet."

I opened my eyes but they felt heavy, like I could barely force them open. I could see CeCe talkin’ to me, but I couldn’t really hear what she was saying. I could tell from the look on her face that something was wrong. She was looking down at me, and she looked scared—terrified.

It seemed like she was trying to shake me. And then I saw the tears rolling down her cheeks. A cold chill came over me again. It was hard to keep my eyes open, and then I saw Wanda. "Hello, Wanda."

"I was wondering if you were going to acknowledge my presence," Wanda said and put her hands on her hips. Then I saw us walking through the airport. Just like with Freeze I could see myself walking next to her.

"That’s because if you’re here, something must be wrong, and I’m in too good of a mood for you to drag it down." I remembered this day, too. I had just come back from the Bahamas, and she and Bobby met me at the airport.

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