GRIT (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 2) (29 page)

“Yeah, my neighbor, Rhonda, saw you outside my place holding a box. She said, ‘Girl, Silver was bangin’ on your door.’”

“I didn’t bang.” She chuckled.

“I know. Rhonda always exaggerates but I was just happy you thought about me is all…” An odd quiet ensued. “Hey, you haven’t told me about your new husband.” The woman pointed at her ring finger. Silver looked down at her hand and twirled the band around, fidgeting.

“He’s great.”

“Uh, Silver, don’t be thinking I can’t handle the conversation. My son is gone, alright?” The woman’s eyes grew dark. “You’re still fairly young. Why would you stop your life on account of that? Dead men don’t talk, they don’t walk… and that might sound cold, but that’s what I have to do in order to keep from wanting to take my own damn life some days. That’s why I am
really
moving, Silver.” The woman leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms. “I look everywhere and see him… I can’t do it no damn more. I got family up in Jersey, been talking about moving for years and never did… but after David left me…” She straightened again and surveyed the space. “…I had to go.

“The same streets that took his life are the same streets I have to walk down each and every day, wondering, ‘Is that the son of a bitch that killed my son? Or is it him? Who was so cold hearted to pull up on my son while he slept in his car and blast him away?’ I knew if I ever found out, I’d shoot ’em dead. That was my baby boy…” Her eyes went even darker, vacant. “My
only
child.

“I had to stop his friends from trying to get revenge… They ain’t sure who did it, either, so what’s the use? David was out in them streets, and those streets wanted him forever. You wasn’t about that life, and I don’t expect you to be. He followed in his father’s footsteps.”

“Yes,” Silver said on a long sigh. “I had told him the same thing when we’d go at it about what he was doing.”

“Right, and he didn’t like you saying that mess to him, because I was saying it, too, and he knew it was true. His father died when David was just a child, messin’ around in them streets, so I’m done with these damn streets, Silver! They took my man! They took my brothers! They took my sister and they took my son now, too! I don’t want nothin’ to do with it!” She slapped her hands, as if washing herself clean of the whole thing.

“I understand. Well, I don’t, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, and we both deserve to be happy. David would want you to be happy, Silver.”

Silver, I want you to win…

“I know he would. I totally believe that.”

“That’s what that dream was. He loved you. Good; now, is your new husband treatin’ you right?” She smiled a crooked smile and winked at her, while placing the box that Silver brought over onto her couch.

“Very much so. Unfortunately, he just lost his grandfather, but yes, we’re doing fine.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Luckily, he has you to lean on… you need somebody to be around when your grief strikes like that… can’t be alone, in a vacuum. It makes it worse more times than not.”

Silver nodded in agreement. An uncomfortable warmth filled her spirit.

“Um, Fran, I need to tell you something.” Denise William’s, ‘Black Butterfly” began to play.

“What’s up, baby?” the woman asked as she placed some small boxes into a larger one.

“I had gone to grief counseling not too long ago. I went several times, actually. I wasn’t dealing with David’s death too well, so yeah… I went to get some help.”

“Mmmm hmmm, okay. Well, that’s good that you did what you needed to do. I know you’re not exactly the demonstrative type.” The woman chuckled. “So keeping all of that in probably did something to you. I remember how you looked at the funeral. Just as poised as you wanna be. I knew it would catch up with you sooner or later. You two loved the hell out of one another and remained friends after the marriage fell apart. Had to be hard on you, I get it.” The woman continued to shuffle around, almost as if she were avoiding what words may be uttered next.

“Well, that’s not all I wanted to tell you. See.” Silver struggled to regain her composure and push through. “Yes, I was upset about David’s passing, but I had a lot of guilt. See, the night… the night he died…”

“The night he died he called you tryna come over!” The woman looked at her dead on, her voice echoing in the empty room. “He tried to call me, too! You come all this way to tell me this shit, Silver?! Don’t you think I know that?!”

Silver stood there, no clue what to do with her damn self. Fran seemed enraged; her expression, her tone, and the words… the words shocked her, knocked her down and out, cold.

“I know you had guilt. Why do you think I kept calling you? Checking on you? Yeah, I wanted to see how you were doing. I loved you like you were my own daughter, but you wouldn’t budge. I kept trying to get you to come over, so I could talk to you about it, but you avoided me. When I found out you were around here recently, I knew you were finally ready. Silver, this is ridiculous! Get your ass over here, girl.”

Silver raced to the woman and cried in her embrace. Fran held her tight and hard, like she wouldn’t let go in a thousand years. And she prayed she wouldn’t.

“You’re so damn stubborn.” Fran laughed lightly as she continued to hold her. “You did everything you could for him… It wasn’t your fault, you hear me?”

Silver nodded. “I know, Fran… but during the grief meetings, I made peace with it, you know? But… I needed to tell you, face you.”

“Face me? I’m not God, Silver. I’m David’s mother. You didn’t shoot and kill my son and it wasn’t your fault he’d gotten involved in something he couldn’t get out of. David was calling people all the time, after everything fell apart around him. I refused to let him in my house anymore because the last time he came around here, two big ass men came to my door with guns. I looked out that peephole and saw ’em while he was asleep on my damn couch. I was babysitting, too. What if I had opened the door without looking? What if they had decided to bust the door down, huh? Not only me and David would have been dead, but Rhonda’s grandbaby, too. She had to go to the store… left the baby with me for an hour or two.

“I never forgot that, and that was the last straw for me, Silver. With what he was doing, anyone he was around would have been shot and killed, too! He wouldn’t have wanted you dead. David wasn’t thinking straight. He was desperate. He loved you, Silver… He loved you so much, but he wanted you to be happy, too…”

All Silver could think about was how right Zenith had been the night they’d sat in his truck after their first date. He’d told her the exact same thing, and that he knew the streets, what it was like. That she could have been hurt, or worse, killed. He emphasized how much she’d done the right thing. At the time, she wasn’t certain she could believe Zenith, but now… she definitely did. Zenith was wise beyond his years; he could see things, even in his at times jaded vision. But she had jaded vision, too. They’d removed each other’s emotional sunglasses, so they could see the world and one another for what they really were. ‘Back Down Memory Lane’ was soothingly sung from Minnie Riperton.

“Thank you for everything, Fran.” They slipped slowly away from one another. Silver patted her tears dry with the back of her hand.

“Do you know I’ve never seen you cry before, Silver? Known you since you was like fourteen… and never seen you cry.”

“Hmm, I seem to cry a lot now.” She gave a light laugh, feeling a bit more at ease. “I think so much has happened in such a short time frame, things just boiled over for me, you know?”

“Sure thing. I know that.”

“In better news, guess who got to create a video game that will be selling in GameStop?”

“Get outta town!”

“No, you stay in town!” Silver joked, causing them both to surrender to laughter.

“You were always real smart, Silver. That is just amazing! You know I don’t know shit about any videogames, but I still wanna see it.”

“I will make sure to mail you a copy of it, okay? I’m going to send you an Xbox to play it on, too.”

“It’ll just collect dust!” The woman waved her off and shook her head, but she looked happy now, content. The genuine smile proved it.

“I doubt it. You’ll be hooked.”

“Hmm, well, I will definitely check it out.”

“Can I help you finish packing?”

“Nah, baby. I’m almost finished here.”

“Well, I guess I’ll let you get back to what you were doing then.”

“Give me another hug before you leave.”

Silver wrapped her arms around the woman, this time, sealing the embrace with a kiss upon her cheek.

“Let me tell you one more thing. I will always be your mother-in-law. Don’t care if your new mother-in-law like the arrangement or not.”

Silver smiled, refraining from correcting Fran and telling her Zenith’s mother was deceased.

“Yes you will, and I’ll always consider you that, as well as my friend.”

“I am. All I ask in return is that you remember this, and remember it good – for every stone thrown at you by life, there are three pairs of hands helping to block the next blow. You got me, your new husband now and your mama, too. You belong to us, and I can at least speak for me, myself and I, as well as my son: David is happy for you, Silver. Now you go on and enjoy your life, baby. Like my son said, it’s time for you to win. You’re a sure bet. The only way you can lose, Silver, is if you turn and look back. Don’t. Ain’t nothing back there but dust covered pain and some guilt that never belonged to you in the first place. Keep grindin’, and keep your eye on the prize…”

P
aw was dressed
from head to toe in white. Some would say he looked like an angel, but Zenith likened him to a good spirit. He placed his favorite pipe, water drum, and rattles within the casket. However, he kept a hold of Paw’s personal drumsticks; those were staying with him.

The funeral home was cramped with people. Paw knew so many people. Zenith was amazed at this, because most of these individuals he’d never seen before. Paw had gotten around in his younger years, that was for certain. He’d touched so many with his wisdom and call to action. Zenith realized the man had been in a bit of denial. He and his son Degan were more alike than he may have realized. Degan, too, had a huge following. People hung onto his every word. Perhaps that was another reason why Uncle Len despised him so; Degan had simply been born with ‘it’.

He remembered as a little boy how crowded his home would be as his father spoke with such authority, with profanity-laced words that would make him giggle, but powerful all the same. Degan was no angel and never pretended to be, but he was a keeper of peace and harmony.

As Zenith stood there looking at Paw’s shell, it seemed as if everything were suddenly coming together. Paw had been right about Uncle Len. He’d seen what Degan had going for him, and this infuriated him. To make matters worse, Degan’s son, his pride and joy, had the gift of music. Uncle Len had nothing but his bottle of alcohol and his horrible attitude. Zenith could hardly recall his uncle saying anything kind or considerate to anyone. He believed the man to be a lost cause. He was shaken out of his thoughts when dancers entered the room.