(No Title) - Chapter 7 - Home

VII. HOME1

At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.
-Plato2

“That was weird.” I continued to talk to myself aloud.
I got up and stumbled out of the office. I hadn’t quite gotten use to being subdued under the power of his smile.
I bumped into about three people as I barely kept my balance to my locker. “Excuse me.” I repeated too many times to remember the exact count.
“Hey, so” – and he looked down and kicked his leg over the other – “I never got your name.”
“Really?” My voice shot up two octaves.
“Um, yeah. You do remember my name right?”
“Yeah, Zeke, I do.”
“I can’t trust you, you know, and your infatuation with me and everything.” He laughed, surprisingly without smiling.
“Shut up!” I grabbed my book bag and began to walk off. He touched my shoulder to turn me around and my knees buckled.
“Sorry! I forgot you are clumsy, and in love.” He tried to hide the end of the sentence, but it was very audible.
“Your fault.” I reminded him.
“Sorry, again.”
“But my name is Saniya. You can call me Niya. All my friends call me that.” I tried to make sure he heard the “friends” part.
“Friend huh?” We were walking down the hall, almost out of the building.
“Yeah.”
“I like your name. It’s…unique, beauty.”
He opened the door for me.
“Gentleman huh?”
“Yeah.”
This short talk was killing me. I needed to spark a long conversation.
“So what brought you to Chicago, tell me everything about yourself.”
“Well, I moved here from Indiana. Things got too crowded for us, well, for my mom there. I didn’t want to move away, I loved everything about Indiana. I’d traveled to all fifty states and none of them satisfied my comfort zone like Indiana.”
“Your family travels a lot?” I wanted every single detail – even the small ones.
We exited the building and I started us in the direction to my house.
“Yes. We have family everywhere! When I say everywhere, I mean, literally, everywhere. Honestly, I don’t even know what my real, true, complete race is.
“But anyway….” He continued on.
I tried to listen, but I just kept getting lost in his eyes. I kept tripping because I wouldn’t look ahead of me, just at him. I had to catch myself, breath every once in a while. And before I knew it we were lost.
He was still mid-life-story. I had to cut in though.
“Not to make your first real Chicago day hell, but I think we’re lost.” My eyes never lost his.
“Okay.” He was so calm.
“Aren’t you nervous, scared, at all?”
“Nope.” He looked ahead and began to walk again.
I stopped him, touching his arm, feeling the muscles deeply hidden under the designer shirt he wore. I froze and he stopped. He looked me in my eyes and saw my amazement and smiled.
“Like what you’re feeling?” He asked after a moment of beautiful silence.
I exhaled the same way I had been doing all day.
“Let’s just….” I began to get drowsy, nauseated. “Let’s just turn around.”
“Are you okay? I can’t have you passing out on me again.” Then he flashed me a quick glance of that smile.
“Thank you.” It felt like I was cured, his smile my medicine.
“For what?”
I fell into his arms. I looked up at his chiseled face.
“For being here.” And I lifted my arm and caressed his face with my bare palm. “Thank you.”
I wasn’t drowsy, not at all nauseated, but I felt high, as a kite. I felt like a euphonium was in process. It was taking a toll on me. I felt tired, but pleased, like I was lying in my own bed. I could smell the fresh breakfast my mom cooked for me every morning. I could feel my pillow underneath my head. I could hear the TV playing softly in the background. I felt right. I felt special. In his arms, I felt at home.
“Are you dead?” He was smiling.
“I must be. I’m being held by an angel. None of this can be real. You are my heaven, my everything above.” I couldn’t shut up. This was all involuntary. “I love…”
He put his finger over my lips.”Shhh. I’ll carry you home; you just have to give me turn-by-turn directions.”
“Good.” I whispered to him as he lifted me with an ease I had never felt. “At least those strong arms are of good use.”
He laughed.
“So, where do we go from here?” His voice vibrating the chest I rested on. His eyes met mine. His expression showed no sign of struggle, of agony.
He was so graceful. He was so loveable. He was so adorable. He was so…perfect. There was no denial, he was mine, and I his.
“Just turn back until you get to Rockwell, then, make a left. You’ll know my house, it’s big and obnoxious.” I smiled and closed my eyes.
I fell asleep in his arms, his warmth blanketing me.
I woke up at home, in my bed. I sat up and said to no one, “When you get there, just lay me in my bed and I’ll be satisfied.” I continued what I began as he carried me home. I turned and saw no one was there.
There was that aromatic scent. The scent that I awoke to every morning: Momma’s breakfast. I snuck a peak at my clock.
4:23 PM
What! I thought to myself, slowly walking out of my room, toward the kitchen. My mom is at work right now, so who’s making breakfast. Unless, and I turned around. My clock might be wrong. I looked out the window and the day matched the time. Oh, then who is that in there making me breakfast?
“Niya? You woke in there?” It was my angel’s voice.
I ran out into the hall and took two steps to complete the short distance between my house and the kitchen.
“You’re here!” I spoke with enthusiasm. “Why?”
“Do you not want me to be here?” He asked not looking up from the pan he was cooking in.
“No…”
He looked up and glided over to me.
“I’m making your favorite.” He grabbed my hand and led me around the kitchen, showing me the little stations he had set up. “You hungry?”
“Not…”
“The question was rhetorical. I don’t care if you’re hungry. I just want to feed you.”
“But I just met you today. How do I know you’re not poisoning me?”
“Because, I was planning that for tomorrow. Oops, sorry, I gave it away.” He was stuffing his mouth with a piece of toast.
“You’re the one who’s hungry. You’re just cooking for yourself.” I wasn’t serious.
“If I had been cooking for myself, there would be way more food to cook, but I’m only feeding you.”
“So” – I needed to put the math together fast – “you’re not going to eat?!” It all came together way too fast. I yelled way too loud.
“Calm down. I’m not hungry. But I know you are. you’ve had a long day, so I’m cooking for you.”
“Thanks.” I spoke slowly. There had to be a cache.
“You’re welcome.”
I sat there staring at him – not once did I blink – curiosity set deeply in my gaze.
Now I see what Cal meant yesterday. I see what his tone meant. It wasn’t that he was being selfish when he asked why all those times. It was just that it was weird to have some stranger care so much about you.
But I carried on like I didn’t mind.
Then, it hit me.
“Hey, um, Zeke, how did you even know what my favorite was anyway?”
“Oh, about that. Just listen, and don’t get mad or anything.”
“I won’t. Just don’t tell me that you stalk me, or something crazy like that.”
He laughed. “No, it’s nothing like that.
“When we got here, I was quite lost. I didn’t want to leave you at the door, and I didn’t want to have to break into your house. But, luckily, you had a note. Your mom said she would be home late today; she had to work extra hours. Her number was on the paper, so I called. She told me exactly where the spare key was. She thanked me a lot too. Oh, and don’t worry, I told her that you passed out because you hadn’t eaten lunch today. She said she knew because the nurses called and said you fainted again. She thanked me more even then for me ‘rescuing’ you.”
“Yeah, my mom can get really comical.”
“She then thanked me some more. Then she asked me to cook for you. I couldn’t resist. So I asked what there was to cook and she said that breakfast was your favorite. I told her good because if I could cook anything, it was breakfast.” He stopped and breathed. “She thanked me some more, I told her it was nothing, and that was it.”
“Oh. So basically, you lied.”
“For your safety. What would your mom do to you if I had told her you passed out because you touched me? What would she do then after I told her it was your first day meeting me? Kill you right?”
“Touché.”
“I know what I’m doing. You are safe around me.” And he leaned on me, his face too close to mine.
My heart stopped beating and my breathing shut down. I think my lungs collapsed.
“You can trust me.” He leaned in and whispered sweetly, softly into my ear. He inhaled deeply and whispered, “Just know I’m here. Just know I’m your zone. If you need anything, anything I will be there.” And he backed up, letting me breath.
I bet my face was purple by now. I bet my skin was cold. I bet I was sleep because he was so – for lack of a better term – dreamy.
“Please…” I breathed heavily. “Just…never do that again.”
“Why?” And he smiled wryly. “Do you…like when I do that.”
I shook my head but I wasn’t saying no. I was trying to clear my thoughts. He knew that.
“I thought so.” And he whipped around the kitchen and turned the fires of the stove off. “Dinner…” And he looked down at his watch. “Yeah, dinner is served.”
“I guess so then.”
He grabbed my shirt and dragged me into the dining room. I hadn’t noticed the glass décor sprinkled lightly around the whole house. I hadn’t noticed the tight, elegant placement of everything in the dining room. I hadn’t noticed how beautiful it actually was until he was there with me.
“You know, I’m going to fight back one of these days.” He was seating me and preparing my spot at the table.
“Well, when that day comes, just let me know.” He wasn’t really listening to what I was saying. He sounded lost in thought.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He just stood there, next to my chair, staring into space.
“Nothing. It’s just…this house is so beautiful.” He was lying.
To notice the house, you would have to be looking at everything; he was just looking at one thing. He was thinking about something, and I was going to get it out of him.
“Whatever! Just go get my food!” I had grown impatient every minute just smelling the food.
He brought me my food and I ate it. The whole time he stared at me. I didn’t see him blink once and he was making me self conscious. It was silent – no one spoke. The only sound audible was my fork occasionally hitting the ceramic plate. I wanted to say something but his breakfast was good. Better than my mom’s, but I can’t admit that out loud.
Finally he spoke, “Are you liking the food?”
I shrugged. “It’s…ok.” I lied hard.
“Oh, ‘cause you’re eating pretty fast.”
“I guess I’m just hungry.”
He smiled.
Again, it was silent. But, surprisingly, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I felt safe near him, although he was a stranger. I felt whole near him, not the whole feeling when I was near Cal, but a whole filling like my life is fulfilled. I could die today and be completely happy.
I got up and turned toward the kitchen. I was about to put my plate in the sink.
“No!” He had to yell. He couldn’t touch me. “Sit. I’ll get that for you.” He was up before I could turn and look at him.
“Thank you.” He was too perfect. There has to be something he is trying to cover up. There has to be something he’s trying to hide from me. Maybe he’s a murderer and I’m his next victim.
When he got in the kitchen, I heard the water running.
“Is he washing my dishes?” I asked myself. “Hey, Zeke.”
“Yeah, Niya.” He called from the kitchen over the running water.
“Are you” – should I ask him this, I thought to myself – “planning to killing me?” The question was serious.
Then he came around the corner with a knife in his hand.
“Good you asked. I just might get it over with now.”
“Please, no! Don’t kill me.” I wasn’t such a good actress.
He smiled. “No, seriously, why do you think that?”
“Because you’re too perfect and I think you’re hiding something from me. I guess I can cross murderer off the list of theories I have.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t so good.”
“So are you?”
“Hiding something from you?”
“Yeah.”
“Niya I just met you today. I won’t let you get too far into my life so quick.”
“So that means…”
“Yes! I’m hiding a lot from you.” He ran to the kitchen and turned the water off. Then he slowly walked back in the dining room and sat in the chair next to mine.
“Just tell me one thing that you’re hiding.” I was hoping for something good.
“I like you.”
“Wow! Like I didn’t know that.”
“No” – and he grabbed my hand – “I like you, like you.”
“Oh.” My eyes widened and I was speechless. I already had a hunch of that. But it sounded way much better coming out of his mouth.
“Hey, I’m touching you.” He smiled because I hadn’t passed out.
“Yeah” – I breathed – “I guess you are.” I blushed.
“So where do we go from here?”
“Wha…what do you mean?” Was he asking me out or what?
“Well, I introduce myself to you and you pass out at my touch. Then I go to the bathroom and you’re there. Then, you jump on me and cry.” He looked at his shirt, it was still a little wet from my tears. “We talk and talk and get lost. Then, I take you home and feed you. Where do we go from here?”
“I still don’t get it.” I was afraid to outright ask but… “Are you asking me out?” I was terrified of what the answer would be.
I wanted him to say yes, but I didn’t want him to say yes. If he said yes, things would be different…I think. If he said no, I would be too disappointed to even speak again.
“No.” He was afraid of how I would take it. “I like you but…”
“You have a girlfriend.” I was ready for even deeper disappointment.
“No. I’m just not ready for a relationship.”
“Oh.” Well, that wasn’t so bad. Actually, I don’t quite feel so disappointed anymore.
“But we are still cool, right?”
“Of course. Why would you ask?”
“I just didn’t want you to be mad.”
I stood up and walked over to him. It was my turn now.
I got close in his face as he sat and put my hands on his thighs. “I don’t really care about it, really.” I felt his legs tense up as if he were fighting something. “But you’ll come around to it.” I whispered in his ear. I liked doing that. I know it killed him.
I walked back into my room and grabbed my cell. I needed to call Melony. Give her an update on things. When I walked back into the dining room, he was looking around at pictures, most of them of me as a baby. He probably didn’t know that. I look way different now.
I opened my cell and searched through my contacts until I saw “BFF1.” That was my contact name for Melony. “BFF2” was Chrissy. Joy didn’t have one; she just had “Joy.” Isaac and Louis had “Big Bro1”and “Big Bro2” for their names.
It rang only once and she picked up.
“Hello! Niya, are you okay? Where are you? Do you need me?” She asked the questions so fast I couldn’t process them. She was worried. I guess word got around about me fainting in fourth period.
“Melony, calm down, I’m ok. I’m at home…” I ended the sentence oddly like I had more to say. I didn’t mean to do that.
“Yeah, and what else.” She heard the odd sentence.
“Um” – how do I explain this, I thought – “And um” – I was too nervous – “And um…Zeke is here too.”
She didn’t say anything. I took the phone away from my face and looked at that the screen; I need to make sure she didn’t hang up on me.
Then she spoke – no, yelled. “What! Zeke! The new boy!” I’ve never heard her yell like that before.
“Yeah.” She made my volume sound like a whispered compared to how loud she was.
“Where is your mom?” She wasn’t yelling anymore.
“Work.”
“And does she know he is there?”
“Yes, he called her because…” I tried to stop again, but it’s something about her that she can get things out of me.
“What else?”
“Well, okay, just listen…please don’t get mad at me.”
“Mm Hmm.” She wasn’t making any promises.
“Okay, when I met him, I fainted. Then, I found him and I told him how I felt. Then, we were walking home again and he carried me and I fell asleep in his arms. Then, he called my mom and she said cook for me. So he cooked me breakfast and I decided to call you and now you’re mad at me when all of this is none of my fault.” I had to breathe fast because I said that so fast it knocked the wind out of me.
“Oh…wow…you’re crazy.” She understood. I heard the smile in her voice.
“I know, right? There is something about him that makes me crazy. Girl, I didn’t tell you the details. But I have to tell you tomorrow at school because it’s too descriptive; I have to show you everything.”
“Okay. Well, it’s good you’re okay.”
“I’m perfect now that he’s here. I think I love him.” I had grown completely unconscious that he was still in the same room as I was.
“Girl, you are so crazy.” She laughed.
“Okay, I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, bye.”
And I hung up.
I turned around to see him staring at me. He was motionless, curious. His head tilted slight to the side again like it had been in the hall.
“What?” I asked innocently. I knew he heard everything I said.
“Nothing…”
“No, just tell me, please.”
“Okay” – and he walked over to me and grabbed my arm and sat me down – “listen…”
“Yes…” I wanted him to hurry and get to the story.
“When we were at school and you were in the hall talking to that teacher, you said that.”
“Wait…said what?”
“‘I...Love…Him....’ And it’s weird to hear that. You really shouldn’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re young. And you don’t love me.”
“What are you saying? You don’t like when I say that?”
“It’s not that…”
“Then what is it exactly!” I jumped up. “You never give me enough.”
We were fighting like a married couple.
“Just sit down.” I heard concern in his voice. He didn’t want to hurt me.
“Okay, I’m sitting. What now?”
“Look, just know that you shouldn’t say that. You can’t just misuse the word. When you like someone you use like when saying your affections out loud. You don’t use love.”
“But when you love someone…”
“Look, just…please…stop. For me?”
“I won’t use it around you but I will use it.”
“No!” He grabbed my leg, almost crushing it.
I’ve come to the conclusion that he is unusually strong. I’ve come to the conclusion that my affections for him might not be what they appear. I’ve come to the conclusion that over the past two days, I’ve grown weaker as a person inside than I’ve ever been.
He looked up at the pain my face. “Sorry, it’s just…” And he got up and walked in the bathroom.
I followed three feet behind. When he slammed the door in my face, I leaned again the wall.
“Just talk to me.” I was beginning to hurt without him. “I’m sorry. I won’t use the word if that’s what you want.”
The door flew open and I turned over and looked in his eyes. He slowly crept closer, breathing a sweet scent in my face. He crept closer then slammed the door in my face again.
I put my ear to the door to try to hear what he was doing. I heard nothing.
“Why, Zeke?” I turned my face toward the door and spoke to it like he was there. “Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”
He opened the door again and pushed me out of his way.
“What time is it?” He asked franticly.
“Why? Do you need to be somewhere?” I started after him.
He stopped and turned around to me and I stopped with the same distance between us.
He did it again. He looked at me without speaking. I looked down and saw his fists clench and release. When I looked up, his eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily. It looked like he was mouthing his numbers. Was he trying to calm himself down from doing something? If so, what was he planning on doing?
He turned slowly and walked away.
I followed him again.
“What are you looking for?” I asked, barely breathing. He was moving too fast.
“My things.” He never turned to look at me.
“Why? Are you leaving?”
“I have to go home?”
“Do you have to or is it that you want to?”
“Both…”
“No. I heard your tone. You don’t want to leave. Neither do you have to, so stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?” I was smiling by now. It felt nice chasing after him.
“Because…”
“Enough with these too short answers.”
“Because I have to leave. If I don’t…” He trailed off.
“What?” And I stopped him from walking. “Why do you have to leave? I didn’t kick you out. What will happen if you don’t?”
He jerked his arm from my grip. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I just need to go. It’s getting late.”
I looked out the living room window. The sun was shining brighter than it had been all day. So that wasn’t so much of the truth.
“So am I going to see you tomorrow?” I asked. I was either satisfied with what happened today, or it hadn’t hit me yet that he was actually leaving me.
“I’ll be at school…” He ended it like we was hiding the rest of the sentence.
“What was that?”
“What you mean this?” And he lifted his jacket. He found his things and was about to put them on.
“No. I mean what else were you about to say? About tomorrow I mean.”
“Nothing more.”
“Are we going to talk tomorrow?”
“Of course.” And turned and looked at me like I was crazy. “Why would you ask something like that?” He kept walking closer and I found myself braced against the wall.
“Because…” He got too close for me to think. “Because you’re acting weird now and…”
“Oh, I see.”
“See what?” I smiled.
He smiled back. “You are just keeping conversation so I wouldn’t leave.”
I guess I was, and I didn’t even know it.
I shrugged. “Is it working?”
He smiled and walked toward the door.
“Bye!” I was still pinned against the wall.
“Bye!” He yelled back. “I’ll see you later friend!” And the front door slammed.
I collapsed.
I laid there for a while, thinking, fantasizing, reminiscing.
What is there to do now, I thought to myself, still laying there. My mind gave me no answer, so I fell asleep.3

“Niya, wakeup honey.” My mom’s voice was in my head.
My eyes were still shut. I was still sleep.
“Yeah, I’ll see you later too.”
“Honey, you’re talking in your sleep.” My mom’s voice was smiling.
“Bye!”
“Wake up, Niya.” She was shaking me now. “Come on, what are you talking about?”
I slowly opened my eyes – they weren’t adjusted yet – and blinked too many times to count. My mom was standing over me.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“Hey mom.” My voice was hoarse.
“I heard you had a little adventure of a day.”
“No…” I sat up and threw my hair out of my face. “It’s a long story.” I had forgotten the excuse that Zeke made up instead of the real story. I knew I was dead. If not now, I would be later on because she was going to kill me.
“Oh.”
Good. She didn’t want to hear the story.
I stood up and dragged myself to my bed. I flopped down and struggled to cover myself with my thick pink and white covers. I think that’s when I fell asleep to a weird dream.
I remember once when Melony told us about a dream she once had.
“I was in a dark room – it was pitch-black. I was lying on my bed and I looked around to find nothing. When I asked what this was, I heard nothing. When I started to cry, a voice began to speak.
“‘Melony, you are different. You are unique. You know this.’”4

My dream was exactly like that. Except, instead of me crying, I just laid there. Then the voice called from the abyss.
“Saniya.”
“Yes?” I asked. Still laying there moving my eyes all around, hoping for some source of light.
I heard nothing.
“Saniya.”
“Yes?” I was growing irritated. Why was he constantly calling my name?
“Saniya.”
“What do you want from me?!” It came out before I could think.
“Saniya look!” The voice came from my back side.
When I looked, there was a tree flying too fast toward me. I closed my eyes and tried to wake up. Usually, when something is about to hit me in a dream, I wake up, but this I didn’t.
When I wouldn’t wake up, I opened my eyes and screamed without even thinking. But that was useless. Without my knowledge, the tree had stopped. It was floating in the air. I looked to my right, hoping I could see some light, but there was nothing. Instead, the tree followed my eyes.
Weird, I thought.
“Yes, weird, but that is the gift you have.” The voice spoke again. It was raspy, hoarse almost. It was deep and dark. It made me feel trapped, like there was no way to escape it.
“Huh?” I don’t think he heard my thoughts, did he?
“Here!” He yelled again, his voice coming at me from another direction. When I followed it, a car was flying my way. This time I ducked my head, trying to avoid decapitation.
Crash! The car flew over me and into the wall. Where the car hit, a light turned on.
“What is your problem!?” I lifted my head and yelled at him like he was stupid.
“Here’s my problem!” And I turned to follow his voice and a truck was flying at me.
It felt like life went in slow motion from then on. I had time to think about what I was doing. Why is he doing this? Maybe I’m missing something. No, maybe he should stop trying to kill me!
There was something not right here. He kept throwing things at me – my head specifically. He kept catching me off guard. Was I supposed to have a reflex to all of this? What did I do the last time that I didn’t do this time?
Think! Think! What did I do different last time? And then time warped. I was suddenly floating over a cloud. Like the type of cloud cartoons usually have. I saw the most mysterious, clue-giving thing.
I was sitting up in this dark room and a voice called my name. When I turned to look, there was a tree flying my way. I closed my eyes and kept my head up. I was concentrating on not being hit by that tree. Suddenly, the cloud slowly disappeared and I was at the starting line again.
“Look!” The voice yelled, calm but commanding.
When I turned another car was flying toward my way.
Don’t duck. Keep concentrated. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best. I prayed a little while at it. God, please don’t let this car hit me…please! I swear I will change if that what it takes. Just don’t let me die like this.
I waited a second or two and slowly opened my eyes. The car was there, floating mid-air.
“Wow!” I breathed relief.
“So you learn fast I see?” The voice was at a normal volume.
“Where are you?” I was looking around. All was visible was a bright white light from one end of the room. That’s where the car hit the wall.
“Find me.” Again, he spoke clam, but commanding.
I needed to do a little more thinking.
When the car hit the wall, the light turned on. But, that light is too bright for human eyes; I would blind myself. So – and I tapped my finger on my chin, waiting for that old light bulb of mine to set off – that means if I try to lightly crash the items into the wall, the room would light up in a doable way.
At the end of my thought, I heard a dark, evil, spine-tingling laugh from nowhere.
“Would you like another car?” The voice asked; my other car was just gone without my consent.
“Yes.” I said confidently. The bravery was in my voice, much able to be heard.
A car flew my way and I caught it. Slowly, I inched my eyes to the corner of my sockets until it hurt to try to look left more. I couldn’t hold it any more. My eyes ached too badly.
“Would you…”
“Yes! Another one!” I yelled before he finished his sentence.
“Okay.” He said calmly. “Here!” He yelled and his voice came from a different direction.
I caught the car. This time, I just didn’t move my eyes; I moved my body along with them.
The car followed my vision. Where ever my eyes went, the car was there. But I needed to figure out how I was going to use this to my favor. I needed to plan out how I was going to light the room. One corner of the room was already lit.
Four corners, I thought to myself, still holding the car with my sight.
“Never think while concentrating. If you think, you might just find yourself dead.” The voice was becoming annoyed, impatient.
To tell, the truth, I was quite annoyed too. All I wanted was to wake up…wake up and see…him. I could hear his voice. I could see his face, smiling with care. I could smell his scent, sweet and swooning. I could feel his arm, warming all over.
The he woke me from my fantasy. “Stop that!” He saw what I seeing. It wasn’t too appropriate, but I couldn’t help it.
I smiled. “Sorry.”
“Now, back to the car!” He ordered.
So I was back. I turned slowly and faced the opposite way of where the first car hit. I aimed…crash! The car hit the wall exactly where I wanted it to.
“Bull’s-eye!” I screamed like I won the lottery.
“Don’t get too excited!” He yelled.
I faced where his voice came from and caught the tree that was flying my way. I was getting used to this. I was gaining control of my new “vision.”
The he was frantic, scared. Something was about to happen that wasn’t supposed to.
“No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” He wasn’t his powerful self. “Stop!”
Was he yelling at me? Was I the one who did something wrong.
“Sorry!” I screamed scared, and I let the tree fall. “What did I do?” Then a pain overcame me. It was almost too painful to take. I felt like death was near. I felt like someone was trying to kill me. Was he doing this? What did I do so wrong that he was bestowing this upon me?
I fell back onto the bed and screamed as loud as the pain allowed me to. My body felt like I was being electrocuted. My mind felt like someone was shooting me; the pain had random sharp points where it would hurt worse than the last. I hurt and I wanted to die.
“St…STOP!” When it came out, it came out loud. My felt was shaking violently. I was crying and I tried to yell stop about one hundred more times, but I couldn’t speak.
I shook and shook until it finally stopped. Everything went black. Everything went silent. I couldn’t feel pain, or anything. I was dead. I know I was.
My eyes flew open and there he was standing over me, worried like someone was chasing him.
“Niya, stop! Wake up!” He yelled over and over again.
But my paralysis wouldn’t let me speak back. My face wouldn’t even move to show emotion. I tried and tried time and time again. I gave up after about a minute of forcing myself to do something.
“Call an ambulance! Get her help!” His face turned red. His veins protruded from his forehead and neck. He was yelling loud. I know my next door neighbors heard him.
Where was my mom during all of this? Shouldn’t she be here trying to save me from death? And where was that white light everyone talks about? Was Zeke my white light? Was he my gate to heaven? Or was there something not right going on here?
I guessed it earlier today. I knew it was true. He was killing me. He was paralyzing me! And he was acting like he was saving me. And my mom…he killed her too. That’s why she isn’t here. He is the murderer I guessed he was. And if I live, he’s going to jail…
But then he threw my theory off.
“Please, please, save her!” He continued. Then a tear sprinted down his face and onto mine.
That was different. He was either a good actor or just really concerned.
But it was all over. In a gush of excitement, my body curled upward – like someone placed knives under my back and I was avoiding them – and I screamed….
I screamed loud and long. It was like the flood gates opened and freed me. Freed it…. Freed everything from all pain and torture….
It was over. But it wasn’t over until I completely understood everything.
When my screaming stopped and my body released, I began to cry. My tears soaked the pillow that held my head. But the crying only made me angrier because they fogged my vision and I could barely see his face.
Then everything was silent again.
The silence was not relaxing. The silence was odd, uncomfortable. It made me tense up as if I were waiting for a volcano to erupt. I was anxious for something to happen.
“Niya?” Zeke was not angry, or crying, or anything. He just flatly asked.
“Yes.” I matched his tone.
He smiled. But what was he smiling at? He talked the same way.
“I come here to…” He trailed off. “And then I find you here sleep. So I try to wake you and you begin to have a seizure. I scream, and yell, and your eyes fly open.” He wiped a newly born tear from his eye. “And you sit there and stare at me. Then in a burst of excitement, you scream and yell and then you lay there like your soul has escaped from you.” He smiled again.
I stretched and yawned. “Your point?”
He laughed. “This is ridiculous.” He grabbed my arm and sat me up. It was hard to resist. He was just so strong. I don’t know what it is about his strength, but maybe he should learn some contro l. He could kill someone with those arms.
“Ridiculous? What is?” I wondered did he mean I was ridiculous.
“Everything. The story of how we are. The story of how we met…us!” He finally let out what I was searching for.
“Oh. Wait, what do you mean, ‘The story of what we are?’” I tried to match his too-deep voice. I hadn’t misheard what he said. I just thought I would play a little game with his mind.
“But I…” He stopped to think. He shook his head “No, I didn’t…” He was talking to himself. “Did I?” He whispered to himself. He was becoming defensive. It was like he was trying to hide it. Like he meant that, but didn’t want to directly say it.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself. I was just curious.”
“Good.” He let it all go at once.
“But” – I twisted around and pushed him on the bed. I was on top of him, straddled -
“you will tell me.” I whispered in his ear and I felt his fist ball up.
He pushed me off of him. “No!” He yelled. “Please.”
I smiled and exhaled.
He turned his back to me and sat at the end of my bed.
I slid across the bed to him. “Do you…like when I do that.” I whispered in his ear, matching his exact tone.
He turned to me and I saw anger in eyes. I crawled back about 4 inches. Then he pushed me on my back, getting too close to my face again.
“Just…never do that again.” He matched my tone; he even did the heavy exhale perfect.
We just laid there, starring into each other’s eyes. About 3 minutes into it, I realized something was wrong. Where was my mom during all of this?
I cleared my throat and he stepped from over me, rolling over to lie next to me. He looked up at my pink ceiling. I looked at him, then at the ceiling with him.
“Where is my mom?” I asked. All this was happening but my mom was nowhere to be found.
“Um, when I came in, she was in her bath robe. She was about to get in the shower right across from your room I think. I could smell the steam. But she went upstairs. I haven’t seen her since. I tried to yell for her and I was screaming and everything. But, she never showed.”
“She must me upstairs taking a shower then. When people are over, she never takes a shower down here. She’s very embarrassed.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t want her to be dead up there or something.”
I giggled. “She’ll be the last to go of anyone; trust me. She’s very tough.”
“Oh.”
My mom was a marine when she was younger. As a child, she grew up in a neighborhood where you had to protect yourself and your family like no other. I remember stories she told me when I was younger. One really fascinates me.
“When she was younger she was in this gang named L.G…um, lady goons, I think. I know it is lady something. But anyway, she was in the gang. She told me when she was getting initiated they beat her like they beat no one else because she showed no emotion. She didn’t cry or even frown. She was in pain, but she knew if she was going to make some type of mark, she couldn’t show immediate weakness.
“So she was in this gang. Now, she said that everyone else before and after her that was initiated were first called ‘rookies’ and that they couldn’t do the big stuff. The um, fights and graffiti rampages and thing. They were the pawns on the chess board. They were used to go do the robberies and the car jacks and stuff they can get in trouble a lot for. They were easy to dispose of.” I was going on and on about this and he didn’t speak. He almost never moved. When I looked over his eyebrows were raised. His eyes were opened wide. He was fascinated, interested.
“When I say that, I don’t mean killing either. It’s just…they knew what not to do. Rat the rest of the gang out was one of those things. If they did…” I trailed off.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. So my mom was never called a rookie. From the start, she was with the big boys. She got to carry a gun, although she never wanted to use it; she never used it either. She got to control the rookies. She got to host ‘events,’ as they used to call them.”
“Events?”
“Yeah. Um, events are like the fights and the crime and stuff.”
“Oh. Your mom is something.”
“I know.”
He laughed.
“Now, eventually she was boss. Now, their gang was broken up into levels: rookies, then big boys, then big dogs, then one supervisor, then one boss, then the chief. My mom was the boss. She was the second highest authority of the whole gang. Now, remember the gang’s name?”
“Um…Lady Goons.”
“Yeah. Before, the gang was entirely populated by women. But one day, my dad came up to my mom – so helpless, so close to death – and asked if she could get him to someone. She rushed him to the hospital and he lived. It turns out that a rival gang accidently shot him. So she made him a deal. She would help him and give him a life if he helped to take the gang out. He – of course – agreed. The next day, the first male was in L.G. He didn’t get an initiation, or he anything. He was just in. So, he began telling his brother, who was in high school, to get his friends to join the new gang: Goons. My uncle told all his friends who told all their friends and the gang was official.
“They waited and planned, my mom doing most of the strategizing. Now, one thing you have to know is that since Lady Goons was around first, they had all authority over men. Then, it was time. They waited one night and ambushed. What they didn’t know is that the rival gang was strapped. They were waiting for that to happen already.
“During the fight, my mom carried a knife…” We looked at each other at exactly the same time.
His eyes grew wider. He knew what I was trying to say.
“And she did damage. But when she looked back she saw the chief on the ground bleeding. She left the rest of the gang to aid her. She said, ‘No, no, please. Please, I’m begging you, don’t die.’ That was the first time anyone in the gang saw a tear anywhere on her face. She told me the chief smile and said, ‘Just take over. Just take over.’ And that was it. The chief died in her arms. She doesn’t even like saying her name.” I was finished. That’s all I needed to say.
“That messed me up. I never wanted to see anything like that again.” My mom continued the story. She was listening probably about halfway through.
Zeke and I both sat up from lying on our backs.
“Mom…where…where did you come from?” I was a little embarrassed.
“I heard the whole thing. When I heard Zeke screaming, I was trying to hurry out of the shower. When I got up here, you were telling the story.”
“Oh.” I was relieved she didn’t see me straddling him.
“So what happened next?” Zeke wanted to hear the rest of the story. He must really enjoy it.
“Well, I walked straight to the police department and turned myself in.” She made her way to my bed. “I told them that I was the leader of a huge gang, but I never told which. That would get me killed. I said that I did some bad things and I deserve some time. I went to court and everything. I was charged with attempted murder. I wasn’t happy about it, but I was relieved. I did one year in jail, and one year probation.
“When I got out, I was alone. None of my family would take me in. No one would give me even a little help. Then” – and she looked at me – “I called Charles.”
“Charles?” Zeke asked.
“My dad.” I said in an informative tone.
“He was willing to return the favor. He told me he was done with the gang stuff and that he had a house and was doing really good for himself. I accepted the offer – although I had no other choice.
“He was good for and to me. He cared for me. He fell in love with me, and I fell for him. We were happy as it gets. He proposed” – and she flashed the engagement ring – “and I said yes. Unfortunately, I had just found out I was pregnant. When I told him, he was excited. He was ready. He was there. He planned things more than I did. He built an extra room for this child of mind. He did everything.
“Then on November 11, I went into labor. I had Saniya LaShay Jennings on November 12, at 12:03 A.M. She was so cute.” She smiled then said, “I stress the word was.”
I laughed and nudged her. “You play too much.”
I looked over and Zeke was smiling with his head down. I could feel he wanted something. He wanted to say something to interject.
“But Charles was nowhere to be found. He was gone. All traces of him, just gone. It’s like he never existed, but I know he does. He’s out there somewhere.” She slowly got up and walked out.
I whispered, “You see why I didn’t want to continue with the story. It hurts her to think of him. I don’t like seeing her hurt.”
“Sorry. I didn’t know it was going to end like that.” He was asking with my forgiveness with his tone.
I smiled. “It’s okay. So what brought you here? You never told me that.”
“Um…I accidently took something of yours. I took your, um…hat. So I wanted to return it. You know the rest.”
“Oh.” Then I looked over to my clock.
8:42 P.M.
“When are you supposed to be home?”
“I don’t know. I kinda snuck out…” He was saying each word cautiously.
“What!” I yelled too loud. “Get back home right now. If my mom finds out…”
“She knows. I told her.” He looked down when he spoke. “I told her everything…the truth.”
“Oh no! That’s where I draw the line. You have to get out of my house. I need to think.”
He laughed. “Okay. I’ll see you at school tomorrow?”
“No.” I smiled back. “Just get out.”
He left. I didn’t lead him out the door or anything. I fell back into my pink, satin sheets and curled up into a ball. I had a lot of thinking to do. I had a lot on my mind.
What am I becoming?5