Rain Storm Page 19

  He ran straight into Darryl. His eyes were wild with questions.

  Darryl said, “I’m glad you got here as quick as you did. I think we’re going to need your help.”

  Keith scanned the room. He saw food, cans, and bottles strewn around the place, but no Cynda. The two medics he saw carrying the first body bag were now descending the stairs with a third. “Where is Cynda?” Keith demanded.

  “Relax, man. Cynda’s not dead. But she’s really out of it. We’re going to need you to calm her down.” Darryl said.

  “What do you mean? What happened?” Keith asked as Jim walked over to him.

  Darryl shook his head as he surveyed the room. “When we got here, we found a body on the couch, and one on the floor. They’d both been shot in the head. We found the third body up stairs – throat slit.”

  “Good Lord,” Jim said.

  Darryl grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. “Come with me. Your wife is up there. She’s been screaming her head off since we got here.”

  That’s when Keith heard it – the guttural, inhuman sound of a trapped animal.

  “She’s hoarse now. If she doesn’t stop soon, she won’t be able to speak for a month,” Darryl said as they mounted the stairs.

  When Keith, Jim and Darryl stepped into the room, he first saw the blood soaked sheets. He then turned and saw his wife crouch in the corner, screaming and clawing at two officers that were trying to get her out of that corner. She had this dazed look in her eyes – like she wasn’t really sure where she was or what was going on – just out of it.

  “What happened to her?” Keith asked Darryl.

  “I think she got the scare of her life when she found that woman,” he pointed to the bed.

  Keith stepped forward. “Cynda.” She didn’t respond.

  He tried again, “Cynda.”

  She put her arms down, turned toward him. Slowly she stood, back against the wall. Her eyes came into focus. “Keith?”

  “It’s me, Cynda,” he said.

  On wobbly legs, Cynda made her way to her husband. She clung to him and sobbed, “Help me, Keith. I don’t want to die like that.”

  They stayed at Jasmine’s house for several hours as the police questioned Cynda about the bodies found in the house. She answered their questions as best she could. But it was clear to everyone that she was out of it.

  Jim finally spoke up. “If there’s nothing else, my client needs to get some rest so she can recover from the shock of this incident.”

  The police let her go, with a not so polite reminder not to leave town any time soon.

  Keith put his jacket around Cynda and walked her to the car. She had this terror stricken expression on her face as she sat next to him. He didn’t know what to do for her. Didn’t know how to make it better. Then she said, “My mother died just like Jasmine. I was the one who found her body. She was naked and cut up.” She laughed. “No wonder I grew up so screwed up in the head. Right?”

  Again, he didn’t know what to say, but he felt like kicking himself. Here she was going through an ordeal like this and he was wondering how fast he could get the divorce papers. How could I have given up on Cynda, like I did with my mother? Forgive me, Lord.

  “My grandmother had an open casket funeral anyway,” Cynda continued.

  He could tell she needed to talk about this, so he asked, “Your friend’s face was slashed, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was your mom’s?”

  She nodded. “And her throat – the death of a whore.”

  He side stepped that comment. “Why was the casket open if your mother’s face was slashed?”

  Cynda closed her eyes – shutting out the pain. “My grandmother wanted the world to see what that monster did to her baby. But I don’t think she ever considered what it did to me.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said when he could think of nothing else.

  When they arrived home, Keith helped Cynda out of her clothes, put her in the shower and then gave her a clean night gown to put on. He rocked her to sleep that night. And as she lay cradled in his arms, Keith thanked God for the woman he’d been given, and he asked the Lord to give him the strength to help her find her way home.

  He had a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so he stayed home with her the next few days and worked in his office while she slept and cried. Cried and slept. In between, Keith fed and bathed her, just as he’d done the first time he’d brought her home. Only this time it wasn’t physical bruises that incapacitated her. The wounds she was dealing with cut way down to the soul.

  Jasmine’s funeral was that following Thursday. It was closed casket. As Keith sat comforting Cynda, he said a silent thank you to his Lord that Cynda didn’t have to view her friend’s body.

  When the service was over Darryl approached them. They were standing outside. The wind was blowing, causing Cynda’s navy blue swing dress to swing up.

  “Keith,” he said with a nod. Then he turned to Cynda. “How are you doing?”

  Holding her dress to her leg, she said, “I’ve been better.”

  “Well at least you don’t have to worry about the police interrogating you about your friend’s death anymore,” Darryl told her.

  Keith put a protective arm around Cynda. “You found the guy who did it?” he asked Darryl.

  “We believe so.” He turned his attention back to Cynda. “Do you know Jimmy Cooper?”

  “Yeah, I know him.”

  “Evidently Jasmine and the white woman we found dead at the residence were running drugs for Mr. Cooper. Word is, they were helping themselves to an unearned commission.”

  Cynda’s face was without expression. She didn’t respond to any of it.

  Keith asked, “What about the man? Why was he shot?”

  “Wrong place, wrong time is my guess,” Darryl told him.

  Keith and Darryl shook hands. “Thanks for letting us know,” Keith said. “I’ll see you at church on Sunday.” They parted company and Keith took Cynda home.

  Shortly after they arrived home Keith found his wife sitting on the floor with her back against their bed.

  He sat down next to her. “A penny for your thoughts,” he said.

  She looked at him. There was still so much sadness in her eyes as she said, “I just don’t understand people sometimes. I mean, Jasmine and Cooper really enjoyed being around one another.” Her brows furrowed. “And he kills her over a few dollars?”

  Keith stretched out his leg – got comfortable on the floor. “If God isn’t in the middle of the relationship, it’s easy for evil to creep in.”

  Her eyes took on this look of wonderment. “I don’t understand you either.”

  The pimples on her face were gone. Most of the dark splotches had disappeared also. He traced the lines of her face with his finger, taking in every perfect piece of her.

  She let out a deep sigh. “How can you look at me like that?”

  “Like what,” he asked, removing a few strands of hair from her face.

  “Like I’m beautiful – when God knows I’ve exposed you to so much of my ugliness?”

  Running his fingers through her hair he said, “I look at you through eyes of love, my dear. There is no flaw in love.” With that he kissed her.

  She threw her arms around him and pulled him closer. He lifted her and laid her on their bed. Undressing her between kisses he said, “I love you, Cynda Williams.”

  And as they joined together, she allowed him to love her. And she allowed herself to imagine that what she and Keith were doing was different from what she’d done so many times before. This was special. Wrapped in his arms later that night she told him, “I wish I’d met you before Isaac. I wish you had loved me before so much of life happened to me.”

  “Why can’t we start from here and forget about the past?” Keith replied.

  His arms were around her and she let her fingers trace the veins in his hand. “Even if I wanted to forget, there are too many people out there that won�
��t let me.”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Just take baby steps. Forget who you used to be when you’re with me.”

  She smiled at that thought. And the next morning she got out of bed and fixed Keith some bacon and eggs with toast and jelly just as a normal wife would.

  Putting eggs on his toast he said, “I’m only going to work a half day today. So I’ll see you at lunch time.”

  She put her fork down and mumbled, “Mmmph,” while rolling her eyes.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, eyebrow arched.

  “Don’t trust me in your house alone, do you?”

  He put his hand over hers. His eyes implored her. “You don’t have a past with me, Cynda. I was coming home to take you shopping for some more clothes and baby furniture.”

  “Oh.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I’ll be dressed and ready to go when you get here.”

  He smiled at her. “See that you are, or I’m going to pick out your maternity clothes myself.”

  She walked him to the front door. “Oh, no you won’t. I’m barely able to tolerate the other clothes you picked out for me.”

  “Hey, I’m a man. I figure if it’s clean and it fits, what’s the big deal?”

  “Exactly, that’s why I’m going to be ready when you get here.” She kissed him and shoved him out the door. When he was gone, she leaned against the door and reminded herself to forget.

  27

  At the mall, Cynda didn’t find anything she wanted. The clothes were just too expensive for something she’d only wear four or five months. She told Keith about a second-time-around shop, which just happened to be in Cynda’s old stomping grounds. At first Keith objected to taking her to that area, but Cynda convinced him that this shop had the best prices.

  She walked through the store picking up cotton stretchable shirts and pants with expandable waists, no zippers. Keith found a top that said, “Baby down here,” with an arrow directing the way to the baby.

  She smiled. “I like it.”

  They were headed to the check-out line when she noticed a woman standing outside panhandling. Cynda handed Keith the cart. “Can you take care of this? I see somebody that I know.”

  “I’ll meet you out there,” Keith told her as he pushed the cart toward the checkout line.

  Cynda stepped outside the store and called out, “Maggie?”

  The woman looked to Cynda and grinned. “Hey girl, when did you get out?”

  Cynda wanted to cry for her. Her clothes didn’t look as if they’d been washed since she left the rehab a month ago. Her face had the ashen look of a crack head.

  “A week ago,” Cynda answered.

  Maggie said. “Girl, I am so glad to be out of that place. Them fools was strict.”

  Not strict enough, obviously. “I thought you were going to stay with your people in Cleveland when you got out?”

  Maggie shrugged. “You know how it goes. They sent the money and before I got on the bus, I decided to get one last high.”

  Keith walked out the door with Cynda’s bags in hand.

  She told Maggie, “Why don’t you let me drop you back at the hospital?” Maggie shook her head. Cynda turned to Keith, then back to Maggie. “Well, can we at least take you to dinner?”

  She shook her head again. “You go on with your new life, Cynda. Don’t waste your time on people like me.”

  They drove home in silence. Cynda leaned against the window, moving herself away from Keith. When they arrived home and were in their bedroom putting Cynda’s new clothes away, Keith finally asked why her mood had changed.

  “Don’t you get it, Keith? Maggie told me to stay away from people like her. But, I am people like her,” she said with tears in her eyes. “So maybe you should stay away from me.” She started throwing her new clothes across the room. “Maybe I will suck all the goodness out of you. Did you think about that?”

  “What do I have to do to convince you that I don’t care what you used to be? I love you, right here and right now. That’s all that matters to me.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “Did you see Maggie, Keith? Did you see what I’m likely to be like in the next few weeks? Who are we kidding? How does that saying go, ‘you can’t change a hooker into a housewife.’ Well I’m living proof of that.” She flopped down on the bed. “I just wish you’d stop trying.”

  “Never.”

  “Well, then you’re crazy,” Cynda told him.

  He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulder. “Why don’t you go see Iona? Don’t you think that will make you feel better?”

  She brushed his hands off her shoulder. “I don’t want to mess Iona’s life up anymore than I already have. I’ve decided not to interrupt her life unless I know for sure that I can stay clean.”

  “Suit yourself,” he said as he turned and left the bedroom and went into the kitchen. Cynda had taken some chicken wings out and left them to thaw in the sink while they were gone. He took the wings out of the pack and rinsed them. He pulled a skillet out of the cabinet.

  Cynda came into the kitchen. “What if you’re wrong? What if I can’t change?” she asked.

  “Baby, with God, all things are possible.”

  “I’m not talking about God. I’m talking about trick-turning, crack-taking me.” She jabbed herself in the chest. “Do you think I can change?”

  Their gazes locked as he answered, “Yes.”

  She was on an emotional roller coaster – fear gripped her and left her wounded. Eyes downcast, she said, “Do you remember what I said when you picked me up from Jasmine’s?”

  He put the skillet on the stove. “Yeah. You said you didn’t want to die like that.”

  She looked up. She saw tenderness in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her the way Keith did. So she let her guard down. “I don’t want to live the way Maggie does either. You’ve shown me a different way of life and I want so desperately to be a part of it – but I keep thinking that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and you’ll be gone and I’ll be who I used to be.”

  “I’m right here, Cynda. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She gave him a half smile, took the Crisco out of the cabinet and poured it in the skillet. “Go pay some bills or send letters to late-paying clients. This is my job, remember?”

  He walked toward his office. “Call me when dinner is ready.”

  She agreed; and within an hour, they were seated across from one another enjoying broccoli, scalloped potatoes, and fried chicken.

  Keith licked his lips. “These scallops taste too good to have come out of a box.”

  “They didn’t,” Cynda told him before biting into a chicken wing.

  “How’d you get them done so fast?” he asked while putting a forkful in his mouth.

  “I sliced and boiled the potatoes before we left this afternoon. I don’t just sit in the house watching talk shows while you’re gone, you know.”

  Keith put his hand over Cynda’s and patiently said, “I wasn’t implying that you don’t work around the house.”

  She snatched her hand. “Well that’s how you act sometimes.”

  ***

  There were days when Keith wasn’t sure how he would find his wife when he arrived home from work. One day she would greet him with a smile, hug and kiss him at the door. Another day – like today, he came home and greeted an eye rolling, head spinning Cynda.

  “You think I’m your maid or something?” she spat.

  “No,” he answered as he shut the front door behind him.

  Cynda threw a pile of clothes at him. “Then why’d you leave these on the bathroom floor?”

  He picked up the clothes that fell around his feet. “I didn’t know it was a big deal.”

  Hands on hips, neck jerking, she said, “Well it is. I’ve got enough to do around here without having to pick your dirty underwear off the floor.”

  “I can get my stuff off the floor before I leave in the morning. No big deal
.” He walked by her, headed to their room so he could change and pray for a peaceful evening. He knew that her mood swings came from trying to stay clean – so he tried not to get on her case too much about her rotten attitude.

  Cynda followed him, head still spinning. “I suppose you think that because you’ve got the big important job and I’m stuck here all day with nothing to do but clean your house, that you can treat me like some indigent worker?”

  He threw his clothes in the laundry room, and then turned to face his wife. “Can I take a shower and get out of these grungy work clothes? We can discuss your issues at dinner, all right?”

  She put her hands up as her neck did the sista-sista jerk again. “Don’t let me stop you. Go on, take your shower. I’ll be sitting in the kitchen when you’re done, just waiting to serve you – since I don’t have a car and can’t just come and go as I please like some people.”

  He didn’t have the mind of a woman, and he certainly didn’t understand the one that was in his house, so he retreated to his bathroom.

  At dinner he said, “You know, I was thinking – the furniture and everything in this house was put here before we got married. You might not like the way I decorate. So, why don’t you fix the place the way you’d like to see it?”

  She jumped in her seat. “You really mean it? You’re not going to change your mind? I can fix this place the way I want it?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut while rubbing his temple. “Yeah, do whatever you want to the place.”

  She jumped in his lap and kissed him. She got up and ran into the living room. Inspecting it, she said, “Those played-out suede curtains have got to come down.”

  He soon followed her. “What’s wrong with those curtains? One of the women from my church picked those out for me.”

  Cynda smirked. “Is that why you didn’t marry her?”

  He had the good sense to look away. “It wasn’t like that. Janet was just being nice.”

  Her eyes flashed with a hint of jealousy. “Boy, please. Ain’t no woman hanging curtains in a house she don’t want to live in.” She gently touched his face. “That baby face of yours is just too gullible where that woman is concerned.”