Crazy Summer (22 page)

He looked up at Summer and slowly intertwined his fingers. “Ms. McKey,” he said in a low growl.

The sound of his voice made her hesitate for a moment. She swallowed; her throat was dry.

“Yes?”

“I’m not gonna make you any promises because this will be a high profile case.”

“I’m listening,” she said.

“Ten thousand up front will get everything going. I’ll investigate the entire case from top to bottom, but the only problem we’ll have is that I can only represent one of your kids.”

“And you’re charging ten thousand just for one?”

“It’ll be well worth it, trust me.”

His words were convincing; she bought every last one of them.

The following morning, Big Will sat patiently at a dining hall table slowly spreading low-calorie butter over a slice of hot toast. The remainder of his breakfast tray contained a portion of cheese grits, scrambled eggs, and sausage. Everything was steaming hot and had been carefully prepared. However, he only ate the two pieces of toast and a spoonful of eggs. His appetite wasn’t a hefty one, but he had picked up a few pounds in the last two weeks; he was more physically fit, more muscle on his bones than fat. That was a plus for Big Will, and besides that, he really wanted his life back.

Big Will was dressed in khaki pants, a white button-up shirt, and a pair of Rockport dress shoes. A younger guy, who was dressed casually himself and carrying a folded newspaper tucked underneath his arm, walked by. Big Will caught a glimpse of the paper and called after him. The guy spun around and looked at Big Will. There were no bullies or so-called gangsters in this rehab; therefore, nobody got out of place with one another.

“Any chance I can check out the sports sections?” Big Will asked in a polite tone.

Without hesitation, the guy walked over and handed the entire paper to him. “I’m finished,” he said. “Take your time.”

Big Will nodded approvingly. “Good lookin’ out. And God bless.”

“I’m atheist,” the guy responded before disappearing into the rest of the crowd.

While shaking his head in disbelief, Big Will allowed his eyes to follow him until he could no longer see him.
And they call me crazy,
he thought.

He briefly flipped through the newspaper and glanced over the bold letters in the Metro section, which read:
One man was fatally shot and another teenager brutally beaten into a coma during a session of band practice at T.W. Josey High School. The Richmond County Sheriff’s Department has two suspects in custody, which are twin brothers whose names are being held due to their juvenile age.
Big Will felt his pulse start to pound at his temples. He quickly read the rest of the article, while trying to convince himself the article wasn’t referring to his boys. He never got to the sports section of the paper. He folded it back up, stood, and grabbed the tray. Big Will’s nerves were working, while his heart continued to pound rapidly.

Once he got to a phone, he quickly punched in a number, but after several rings, no one answered. He hung up, took a deep breath, and with a worried look masking his face, he scanned the area surrounding him for a few seconds. He then picked up the phone’s receiver and dialed again, his chest rising and falling. Still no answer.

He walked over to a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked a spacious manicured lawn where families were walking together, more of a reunion. His mother and father would come visit him in the past, but by this being his fourth time in detox, it made them give up on him during his third time in rehab. They also had some money stashed away for him from when he played in the NBA; however, since he’d turned to cocaine, his father had taken full control over his savings before he had a chance to blow any of it. It was definitely a good thing that he did.

“I need to see if these are my boys,” he said to himself.

Returning to the phone, he dialed his parents’ number. He knew they would make some calls for him.

A voice answered from the other end. “Myers’ resident.”

He lost his words for a second. “Hello, Mama.”

His mother’s voice filled with excitement. “Will! Where have you been? Where are you?”

“I may have a small problem,” he told her.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

“You read the paper today?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” she answered quickly.

“The column about the twins?”

“The murder?” she asked. “Please tell me that you weren’t involved.”

He gripped the phone so tight that his hand began to sweat.

“No, not me.”

A sigh of relief came from her end. “Thank God.”

“But they may be your grandsons.”

*****

When Summer got to the hospital to visit her mother, she was surprised at the way she was up and moving around. Beyond that, the doctor had told her that she would be released today. Of course, Summer was happy about that, but her mother hadn’t heard the news about the twins, and Summer didn’t want to tell her at the present moment. After the release papers were signed, Summer packed her mother’s clothes and gifts. Mrs. Diane dressed in a cream-colored blouse and matching dress pants that Summer had bought for her to wear home. When they got downstairs to the rental car, Summer made sure her mother was strapped in. Then they left the hospital and stopped by the CVS drugstore to have her prescriptions filled.

When they pulled up in the fire lane at the rear door of the apartment, Summer saw Lil’ Danté and Alisa standing in the doorway. Mrs. Diane opened the passenger side door and began to slowly climb out. The kids came out to greet her with welcoming hugs.

“Hey, Grandma,” both children said.

“How are my babies doin’?” she asked and kissed them both on their lips. Mrs. Diane hadn’t felt this good in the last few years, and now she was healthy and cheerful.

“Danté, get Mama’s bags out the backseat,” Summer said while she moved to the other side of the car to help escort her mother inside their apartment.

When Mrs. Diane turned to look at Summer, she noticed the worried expression on her face, and it made her curious. Summer hooked her arm around Mrs. Diane, and they moved slowly up the double steps. From out the side of her eye, she saw her mother staring at her.

“What’s wrong, Summa?” Mrs. Diane finally asked.

Summer tried smiling, but that was something her mother had been able to see through for years. They stopped in the kitchen and faced each other. A teenage girl who lived around the corner was standing over the stove frying hamburger patties. She waved and spoke to Summer and her mother, then turned back toward the stove. Summer knew she would be a good babysitter, and she was right.

Mrs. Diane stared into Summer’s eyes. “Where the twins at?”

Her eyes shifted to the kids. “Y’all go upstairs,” she told them.

Alisa quickly walked over to the babysitter, while Lil’ Danté stood his ground.

“I already know, Mama,” he said with his arms folded across his chest.

Mrs. Diane flashed a smile while looking at her grandson. She grabbed his head and pulled him to her, her hand patting him softly.

“Let me and yo’ mama talk, baby,” she said to him.

Lil’ Danté nodded and walked off without saying a word. He had so much of his daddy and uncle in him. Summer had him mapped out real good. There was always some kind of mystery with him, and he could be very unpredictable at times.

When Mrs. Diane caught Summer staring, she knew something wasn’t right.

Summer responded in a clear, low tone, “They got into some trouble, but everything’s gonna be alright.”

Mrs. Diane’s eyes widened. Summer noticed the twitch in the left corner of her mouth.

“They in jail?” she asked with her eyebrows furrowed.

She grabbed her hand and squeezed it firmly. “Listen, Mama. I’m gonna take care of it. Don’t get upset. I don’t need you worrying yo’self to death, okay?”

As Mrs. Diane’s eyes started to fill with tears, she batted them closed and slowly turned away from her daughter. “Lawd, have mercy on them babies,” she said, then headed toward the living room.

A million and one things were racing through Summer’s mind. Her mother had been too sick in the past to worry about this. A burden like this on one woman’s shoulder was entirely too much to handle. With a shattered heart, she watched her mother walk away. Mrs. Diane had told Summer many times that she was raising the twins right, but now she wondered if she had failed somewhere.

Summer checked the clock on the wall and thought to herself,
Time is never on your side when something tragic is going on around you.

Then an idea hit her. She removed a number from her purse, grabbed the phone, and sat down at the table.

*****

On a twelve-foot long black marble table, there were three digital money counting machines running almost in unison. There were four chairs on each side and one at each end. The room, located in a basement, had thick, wall-to-wall plush carpet and glossy wood paneling on all four walls. There were no windows.

Underneath the table was three large waterproof duffel bags. Kiki lifted the first bag from the floor, placed it on the table, and unzipped it with one swift movement. He looked across the table at two of his closet comrades, who waited eagerly and watched with anticipation as Kiki began removing several stacks of money from the bag. Kiki then paused to take a Newport cigarette from the box and light up. Just then, his cell phone rang. He inhaled lightly and blew a thin line of smoke from his mouth. One thing about Kiki was he didn’t tolerate being bothered by anyone while he was in the process of handling business. With the cigarette hanging from his lips, he took a look at the phone. The number wasn’t familiar to him, but for some reason, he decided to answer it anyway.

“Kiki here,” he said in his thick southern drawl.

“Hey, are you busy?”

Kiki scanned the table and around the room. “Jus’ a lil’ bit.”

“Well, I’ll call you later, okay?”

He took a long drag from his cigarette and slowly exhaled until a cloud of smoke hung thick in the air. “Where you at right now?”  Kiki asked.

“Down in Sunset at my mama’s place.”

“I’ll be through there in about an hour. I’ma call you back when I get in the area.”

“Okay, but… Well, alright.”

“What was you about to say?” He sounded sincere.

“Nothin’. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

When Kiki hung up the phone, one of the guys at the table looked at him and asked, “Who was dat, dawg?”

Kiki loaded one of the money counting machines while the burning cigarette still hung from the corner of his mouth. He finally glanced up and replied, “A lil’ friend of mine, dawg.”

“Oh, jus’ a lil’ friend now, right?”