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Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry to make all of you wait so long, I've been super busy lately. Generally I like to get one chapter out a week, but...yeah. Since I've been taking my sweet time, I'm putting this up unedited. That will explain why it's twice as long as usual and sort of rough, forgive me. I'll edit later and I'll try to be more punctual from now on. P.S. I chose this song because it's the song most often played during my grandmother's house parties.           

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            It’s important to note that Grandpa Joe and Grandma Sophie are still very much married. Maybe because they were too lazy to sign the paperwork. Or maybe it was because deep down they still loved each other after all these decades. It was most likely because Grandma Sophie wanted to keep the benefits and Grandpa Joe didn’t give a shit.

             Either way as far as the law is concerned; they’ve been married for fifty-nine years. As far as the Bible is concerned, well, they’ve been married to a hell of a lot of people since the initial I Dos. They didn’t even really hate each other, just realized a year and a half into the marriage that neither of them were the marrying kind.

            Grandma Sophie was a party girl at heart. She lived for the weekend and the freedom of being able to do what she pleased without feeling like she had to ask first.  Freedom for Grandpa Joe was in his nomadic and spontaneous lifestyle. Last we heard he was in Peru somewhere; the eternal backpacker.

            “I haven’t seen Grandma Sophie in forever,” Henry said from the passenger seat of my car.

            “She misses you, you know. I think she might even love you more than me.”         

            “I can believe that. I am pretty loveable.”

            As I turned down Twenty-First Street the rancid scent of the paper mill, less than a quarter of a mile away, filled the car. The old neighborhood was lined with houses that had been in families for generations. Most of the homes were built with slanted roofs and colorful vinyl siding that had faded since their building decades earlier.

            In some of the yards old timers were sitting in their dirt spotted lawns on rickety plastic chairs, drinking and laughing, no doubt reminiscing about their youth. I blew the horn at old Mr. Amos and Carl Henley, who sat on a porch in aged baseball caps and tattered tan pants. They looked up and waved.

            Three houses down I parked the car on the street in front of Grandma’s house, right behind my cousin Gabriel’s car.

            The house my Grandmother lived in currently was given to her as a gift from Grandpa Joe. It was an old one story duplex that his family had rented once they’d moved down here from Virginia. When his parents died, Grandpa Joe bought out the B side so that Grandma could have the place to herself. When Grandma called to tell him that six months later the family had refused to leave, Grandpa Joe flew all the way back from Thailand to take care of it for her.

            He’d sat on the porch drinking a beer and smoking cigarettes, patiently taking his time. When six o’ clock came, he calmly got up, went inside, and took a sledgehammer to the shared dining room wall. Right in the middle of pot roast and mashed potatoes, Grandpa Joe forcibly removed the family from his house; kicking and screaming.

            That was the only time in my life I’ve ever seen those two getting along. There’s an old joke in the family that Grandpa and Grandma Harper are happiest when causing mischief.

            Henry and I walked through the open chain link fence and down the path. The men were scattered in the yard, some sitting in lawn chairs under the giant oak Grandpa had planted twenty years ago while my cousins Quan, Isaiah, Tommy and that deadbeat Ray played touch football. When they saw us, they all drifted over.

            “Hey Evie!” one of my cousins said. “I haven’t seen you in months. And Henry, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.”

            “It’s been a little while, Quan,” Henry said. “I’ve been meaning to stop by.”

            “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” my cousin Isaiah came meandering up in a slow overinflated swagger, football in hand. “The real reason you haven’t stopped by is probably because you’re too ashamed from the last ass whopping I gave you.”

            Henry sucked his teeth, “You got lucky.”

            “Rematch? You know I could whip that ass all. day. long.”

            “Let’s go then!”

            While I was distracted, my cousin Tommysnuck up on me and caught me in one of his too long hugs. Creepy. “Oh, hey Tommy.” I said as politely as possible.

            When he finally broke the hug, uncomfortable in so many ways, his eyes slowly raked over me. “You get more grown every time I see you.” Double creepy.

            “Yeah okay,” I stepped back a few paces. “Henry, you know when you step on this property you have to say hello to Grandma first.”

            “I know,” He said as he turned back to Isaiah. “You better be ready to be in a world of hurt, after I come back.”

            “Ooh, I’m shaking over here!”

            As we walked toward the front door I heard Tommy call to me, “Evie, if you ever need something. You know you can always come to me. I’ll take care of you.” Triple creepy.

            When I walked through the screen door, I was assaulted by the smell of stale cigarettes and free flowing booze. The women turned our way and a cheer of welcome rose loudly over the music. Grandma and her two sisters, Edna Mae and Ethie Mae, were sitting in their usual seats. around the clothed dining room table in the middle of a round of poker. A pile of coins and paper money was in the middle, cluttered by ashtrays, beer bottles, and red plastic cups.

            Grandma Sophie got up and came around the table, arms open wide. “There’s my baby!”

            I opened my arms, “Grandma!”

            She sidestepped me and she went right into Henrys. …This is some bullshit.

            “You’re such a handsome man; tall too. I missed you last fourth of July.”

            “I’m sorry I was sick.”

            “That’s okay. I got some food are you hungry? I made some ham, and some collard greens, and some cornbread—I know how you like that. Want me to fix you something to eat?”

            “No ma’am.” Henry was all smiles. As he should be, seeing as how he’s the favorite.

            “That’s okay. Eat when you’re hungry. You gonna go outside with the boys?”

            “Yes, ma’am.”

            “Alright then.”

            I shuffled up meekly beside Grandma. “Oh hi, Eve.” she said with no enthusiasm.

            “Grandma!”

            “I’m just teasing, baby. Give Grandma some sugar.” We hugged.

            “Hey, Henry!” My cousin Tonya slinked up next to him and hooked onto his arm. “I missed you, boo. Why don’t you ever call me?”

            “Probably because I don’t like you.” He tried to pull out of her iron grip, but she held tight.

            “Stop playing. You know you want me.”

            “Pretty sure I don’t.”

            “Don’t fight it, baby. Just accept the inevitable.”

            He struggled harder until she let go then said a quick hello to everyone else before racing outside for his rematch. I grabbed a beer and took a seat between my cousins Karen and Alicia. My cousin Renee and Tonya were on the other side. Grandma retook her seat and poured more vodka and club soda into her cup.

            Grandma’s old friend Johnnie Mae was sitting on the end, barely conscious, head lulling back and forth from the vodka. “Sittin on the dock of the bay...” The drunker she got, the more prone she was to random sing-a-longs.

            “You know Keisha on Third Street?” Renee was saying. “She named that baby Velveeta DonCleopatra Jones.”

            “…You a damn lie. Hey Evie,” Karen said. Both of them got up and gave me a hug. “It’s been a while. You avoiding us?”

            “Hell yeah. Y’all bitches crazy.”

            “You know what’s crazy,” Alicia said as she shook the last cigarette out of the carton. “Life.”

            “Oh, Lord. Here we go with this shit. Ignore the drama, everyone please. If we stop believing, maybe she’ll just cease to exist.”

            “Sheeeit!” Ethie Mae cried. “Fold.”

            “Ha ha, Renee. That’s very cute.” When Alicia crushed the cigarette carton in her hand and tossed it on the table, for some reason, it made me think of Johnny.

            “So Evie, anyone special in your life?” Karen said.

            “Well, I am sort of, kinda seeing this guy.”

            A chorus of Oohs and Ahs rang out through the room.

            “What’s he look like?”

            “Brown skin, brown eyes, brown hair. Bout five-eleven, six foot.”

            “What’s he do?”

            “He’s a cop.”

            “Oh Lord.” Everyone in the room looked my way, incredulous looks on their faces.

            “He’s nice.”

            Alicia scoffed. “Sure he is. Until you do something he doesn’t like. Then it’s going to be all ‘don’t tase me bro!’”

            “I took a sip of my beer then said, “Very funny, Alicia. At least he has a job.”

            “I know that’s right, girl,” she high fived me. “Look here, the only requirements I have for my man is don’t disrespect me and put food on my table. In fact, the more money the better.”

            “I don’t know if I agree,” Karen added. “There’s something to be said about a little tenderness.”

            Johnnie Mae perked up. “But when she gets weary, try a little tenderne-ess oh yes yes ahhhhhhhh!”

            “Shut your drunk ass up,” Renee lit a cigarette and shook her head. “Look as long as he has a job, don’t beat my ass or nothing he’s a good man—and shower! I was with this one dude; so funky! I told him ‘look, you got to take this here bar of soap and get into between them ass cheeks sometimes or I’m out’. Obviously he liked wallowing in his own filth better than he liked me. What’s his name anyway?”

            “I don’t know. I don’t keep up with your crazy boyfriends.”

            “No, smartass. What’s the name of this new guy you’re seeing?”

            “Manny Juarez.”

            Grandma Sophie poured more vodka and less club soda into her cup. “Juarez, huh? Cuban?”

            “Mexican.”

            She nodded, her eyes dulling. “I dated a Mexican once. Back in nineteen fifty-nine.”

            Mama and Aunt Jackie exchanged looks. “I don’t remember that.” Mama said.

            “You weren’t born yet, Regina. And Jackie you were no more than six. Now what was his name?” she thought for a moment. “Oh yeah, Ramón.”

             “…Uncle Ramón?” Aunt Jackie made a face so shocked it was comical. “I thought he was just the handy man! He taught me how to count to ten in Spanish.”

            “Well he would fix things when he stopped by—being a man and all. He was real nice. Funny, a good dancer, and I loved the way he talked. And of course I was cool with him being around y’all ‘cause he took real good care of his own wife and kids.”

            “Oh good Lord! You’re not serious. You are not telling us you were sleeping with a married man.”

            “Remember that apartment we lived in off Hickory Street? He was fronting the bill. Royal flush!”

            “Sophie Mae, you always was a cheating ass,” Aunt Ethie Mae exclaimed before throwing her cards down and lighting a cigarette.

            “I never knew!”

            Grandma collected the pile of money.  “You were six, Jackie, what was I supposed to say?”

            Johnnie Mae raised her cup. “Sophie Mae gettin’ her groove on. Sophie Mae gettin’ her groove on,”

            The whole room burst with cries of anguish, objection, and amusement as everyone tried to talk over everyone.  

            “How long?”

            “About two years. He’d stop by just in time to rock you kids to sleep, then he’d come to my room and rock me to sleep.”

            When the room erupted in protesting chatter at the completely unnecessary mental image, Grandma yelled, “All of you shut up all that goddamn noise! It wasn’t like that. I didn’t intend for the feelings, they just happened”

            Alicia folded her arms over her chest, “See that’s the kind of thing that other women say. Some bitch said that to me after I found out she was sleeping with Daryl. To me it don’t make no sense.”

            “See I met him when I worked as a secretary for a construction company. We’d see each other once and a while, and for some reason, we just…” She stalled on the right word.

            “Clicked.”

            “Yeah. Before I knew it he was the first thing I thought about when I woke up in the morning. And the last thing I thought about at night. I tried so hard to forget him and move on.” She looked into her glass with a small heartbreaking smile. “Then one day we’d somehow found ourselves alone and he asked if he could kiss me. I didn’t have the strength to say no.”

            “How romantic,” Karen sighed.

            “How wrong,” Alicia corrected her.

            “It wasn’t my proudest moment, but the point is family—“

            “Oh, was there a point?” Alicia interrupted.

            “Yes there is. Now shut the fuck up before I throw your ass out of my house.”

            “Yes, ma’am. Didn’t mean any harm.”

            “Talking to me any kind of way in my own damn house. Interrupting my an-ec-dote! I like her nerve. The point is, he did some bad things—we both did, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. You need to be able to judge a man’s character so you can tell the difference between good men who make bad choices and the bad men who want to hurt you.”

            “Grandma’s talking sense,” Renee conceded.

            “Yes sir, he was a good man. Always took care of his business and even a little of mine.”

            “Well, that was cryptic.”

            “Well one time the landlord over at the apartment was giving us a hard time. So he talked to him for me.”

            “Talked?” I said.

            “Yeah. He got a couple of his friends and they went and did what men do best,” she smiled at that, and took another sip.

            “See that’s my favorite kind of man,” Tonya said. “A man who handles his bizniz.”

            “And that’s why you always end up with thugs.” Alicia said it, but we were all thinking it.

            “Shut up. I’m just biding my time until Henry comes around. That’s my boo.”

            “Girl, pu-leeze,” Renee rolled her eyes and took a drink from her cup. “Desperate is not cute at your age.”

            “A girl can dream.”

            “He ain’t thinking about your crazy ass! Let it go.”

            Grandma interrupted the two of them. “If there’s any justice in this world he’ll marry Evie.”

            I chocked on my beer. “What!”

            “Now there’s a good man.”

            “Yeah but—“

            Aunt Edna Mae gushed with excitement, throwing some more money into the pile. “And you’re always together. All it would take is the right lighting, some candles, a little Brian McKnight and boom! It’s love.”

            “I don’t think—“

            “Well, I wouldn’t mind having him in the family.”

            “Mama!”

            “He’s practically an honorary member anyway. And what about that time his mama caught you two behind the shed?”

            “No fair, we were kids.”

            Karen cut me off, “And imagine the babies! His skin and hair, her eyes! Gorgeous.”

            “Evie and Henry sitting in a tree, making biracial ba-a-bies.”

            “Yeah, all she’d have to do is forget to take her birth control. He’s so noble he’d marry her on the spot.”

            Ms. Johnnie Mae sobered up, “That…uh, that’s too fucked up for me.”

            I gave up and let them yak for a few more minutes. After they got it out of their system the conversation veered in another direction naturally and I got more comfortable. Right in the middle of some juicy gossip about Monica Gibbs and her unfortunate love of weed, some Earth Wind and Fire jam came on.

            Grandma threw down her cards and jumped out of her chair. “Hey! That’s my jam.”

            “Sophie Mae, come on now and play!” Aunt Ethie Mae yelled.

            In the small space between the backs of our chairs and the couch in the living room Grandma did a quick two step then moved into a shuffle, kicking her leg into the air as everyone cheered. I hope I can kick my head over my head when I’m seventy-eight.

            As the sun disappeared and the temperature cooled, the men wondered inside. They grabbed some old aluminum fold out chairs from the closet and pulled up a seat. More family and friends showed up, until the living and dining room were full of people. Eventually the parents called the kids in from the dark; people ate, and started dwindling.

            We stayed until a little after one, laughing through drunkenness, arguments, and reminiscing about things past, then got up and said our goodbyes (sober for once). Grandma gave us carry outs stuffed to the brim with ham, collard greens, mac and cheese, and butter beans. She gave Henry a container full of extra cornbread and a kiss on the cheek. Tommy gave me another unfortunate hug, squeezing extra hard and extra long. Quadruple creepy.

            “Evie,” my cousin Ray said as we were walking through the door. “It was so good to see you.”

            “Good to see you too.”

            “Can I borrow fifty dollars—“

            “Hell no you can’t borrow no damn fifty dollars! What do I look like, an ATM?”

            “Ol stingy ass self!”

            “Bye! Bye y’all! Don’t let this crazy fool scam y’all out of no more money.”

            We loaded into my car and made the journey back toward our side of town when Henry got a call on his cell phone. “Hello,” he sighed. “I told you I was going to be with Evie today. We’ve been over this. She’s just a friend. Yeah I’m on the way home. Maybe I don’t want you to come over—ugh!” He hung up.

            “Bawk, bawk, bawk, bawk.”

            “Shut up, Evie.”

            “Geez, I was just kidding. Not only are you a chicken, but a temperamental chicken.”

            “Sorry, it’s just Jenna.” He sighed again, deeper.

            “Just break up with her. It’s not that bad, I’ve done it before.”

            “Yeah but Evie, you’ve broken up with men! You know how we are—prideful. Break up with us and we’ll pretend it’s cool you know, no big thing. But women are different. They only have two break-up settings, sobbing tears and screaming rage. Both of which I’d like to avoid—where are we going?”

            “I want to stop by the convenience store that Harley stopped by on the night of the murder.”

            “Oh, cool. And ask before you kidnap me next time.”

            “You got it.”

            We drove over to San Juan. I got turned around a few times because Harley had gotten the name of the store wrong. I pulled the car into the lot of the Stop and Go (not the Quick Stop!), and the two of us walked inside. It was deserted.

            At the register behind bulletproof glass sat a tall, skinny man, his nose deep in a comic book; ear buds most surely deafening him.

            I knocked on the glass to get his attention. He looked up startled and yanked the ear buds out of his ears. “Oh I’m sorry, man. Totally didn’t see there. When I hear sitar music I get teleported to another plane.”

            “Uh, okay. Could we ask a few questions?” I asked in my most casual way.

            “What are you, like, five-oh?”

            “Naw man,” Henry said. “We’re just a couple of curious people, seeking knowledge.”

            “I hear you man. Knowledge is the true power. Knowledge is the key to our minds, and ultimately our souls….Whoa, man. I gotta write that one down.”

            I opened my wallet and pulled out a photo of Harley. “Have you seen this man?”

            “Are you keeping wallet sizes now?” Henry asked with a scoff. “That’s some sick shit.”

            “I clipped it out of this magazine I have with him in it,” I insisted.

            “So you just collect his magazines then?”

            “It’s completely natural to collect memorabilia of your famous friends!”

            He folded his arms over his chest. “So how many of my books do you have?”

            “…Shut up.” I turned back to the stoner. “Have you seen this man?”

            The clerk looked over the picture, and then smiled. “Yeah I remember this dude. Real chill guy. Most people who come in at this hour aren’t in the mood to yak, but this dude actually had the decency to socialize with me on like, a human level. Cool dude.”

            “Do you remember what he bought?”

            “Bought a shit ton of condoms. I asked why he needed so many and he was like, ‘you know how it is when pussy calls’—oh excuse me lady.”

            “Do you know what time it was?” Henry said.

            I glared at him. “Hey! I’m asking the questions around here.”

            “If I have to be Watson, I want to ask some of the questions. Kay, Sherlock?”

            “Okay. I’m glad to see you accepting your fate.”

            “Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” he turned back to the clerk. “Do you remember the time?”

            “Heh, that’s like a song man. The time, the time? I don’t remember, but it’s probably on the tape.”

            “Could we see it?”

            “I’m not supposed to let people behind the counter. I get a lot of robberies.”

            “We’re not here to rob you. We only want answers, and you’d really be helping us out.”

            Thinking, he scratched his goatee then said, “I do like to help people. And what the boss don’t know…But only the chick, and you keep your hands where I can see em.”

            He unlocked the door and let me through, locking it behind us. Leading me over to this old black and white fourteen inch television, he thumbed through a few VHS tapes. “Here we go. Tuesday morning.”

            He pushed the tape into a VCR and I watched as he rewound. It was a study in the mundane. People came in and bought things then left. “Stop! That’s him.”

            He played the tape and I watched as a fuzzy but unmistakable Harley walked up to the counter. The black and white image offered no audio or solid evidence but the time stamp in the bottom corner did answer one question. Harley walked through the doors at two forty-four and I had the clerk fast forward through the idle chatter until Harley left again. He was here fourteen minutes total.

            The rest would have to be field work.

            Henry and I left after I thanked the cashier. I backtracked down Dempsey Ave and pulled into Harley’s hotel. I did a U-turn in the parking lot and pulled back into traffic, first hitting the liquor store where Harley had gotten the wine, then to the convenience store, and finally back to the hotel.

            “Timing it?” Henry asked as he looked at the face of his wrist watch.

            “Yeah. It took about ten minutes total to drive to all three locations—doing the speed limit. Combine that to the fourteen minutes it took to buy condoms—“

            “He was always a jabber jaw.”

            “That’s twenty. Estimate the five it would take for him to walk from his hotel room on the third floor to the parking lot, starting up the car, we’re about at thirty. Add in the time he spent in the liquor store—yakking up the staff I’m sure, and that’s thirty-five, forty minutes easy.”

            “Forty minutes is plenty of time to kill someone,” Henry said.

            “The only problem is the timing for the killer. If she called him over after Harley left, he would have had to have been right around the corner. But what are the odds? I’d say the killer was waiting in the parking lot, and saw Harley walk out.”

            “A stalker?”

            “It’s a definite possibility.”

            He mulled this over. “So what’s your next step?”

            “I want to get into her apartment.”

            “How the hell you gonna do that?”

            “I know a guy,” I said with confidence.

            “He’s not going to do it.”

            “He’s a man of many talents, but you forget I’m a woman of only one.”

            “And what pray tell is that? You gonna guilt him or just whine until he caves.”

            I batted my eyelashes. “I’m going to use my feminine persuasion, of course.”

            He laughed the whole ride home.

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