Bab 5: Cipher **** Chapter Five
The stationery I'd received from the anonymous sender appeared outmoded, by inspecting the ribbed texture I'd deduced it wasn't of normal origin. The subtleness of it expressed superiority somehow or other but had arrived nameless. I remembered some old stationery my mother had when I was a child, she'd said it was handmade singly from pulp consisting of hemp and linen. Its antiquated attributes were notable and could not be misapprehended for paper as the stationery I held in my hand could not.
I'd removed the pacifier from the box, it too seemed atypical and while looking online for a replica I had been unable to come across anything near its resemblance. The baby hadn't cared for pacifiers anyway, they never calmed his fits.
I wondered why someone would send one anonymously. Set aside from the unique quality of the immoderate laid paper was the designated ink which was also out of the ordinary.
I'd spent the morning listening to my mother's voicemails---some sober some drunk but each one expressed the void she felt knowing her oldest daughter had been killed.
TJ2 sat with his head down as usual, I scolded him constantly in my mind as well as his father and refused to let him win. I'd known the 703 number that had been calling had come in from Virginia which furthermore convinced me he wasn't dead, but knew he wouldn't uncover his whereabouts that straightforwardly.
After looking over the gem encrusted pacifier I put it back inside of the box on the sofa table and laid down my now sleeping son in his crib, Ciaran.
The noise upstairs indicated my sons Deuce and Antwan were contented with one another and as they played raucously I climbed the stairs, fully opened the ajar bedroom door and ordered them to quieten before the wake their brother, my instructions went unheard as they enjoyed each others shenanigans. Finally, they acknowledged my presence at the same time, I'd again saw the four year old's shoes on the wrong foot but tied methodically, and also took note of the snugness to determine whether or not they could be taken off and put back on without being untied. However, I specifically remembered untying them and placing them inside of the corner. While I thought I'd heard the newborn cry, I took them off and closed the bedroom door deciding to throw the shoes away before exiting the boys room.
According to Dr. Manuel, Ciaran had been born at exactly 3:30 p.m. I remembered his appearance and compared him to something aquatic covered in blood. After I'd descended, from the stairs I could see TJ2 standing beside the baby's crib that sat in the dark where he slept. The presence of light would infuriate him so I'd assigned specific areas for him to lie, away from the lighting.
I called out to TJ2 who had begun to speak suddenly contrary to his doctors' prognosis, but could hear his gibberish as I neared the bottom floor, which confirmed the baby had awakened and felt he'd disturbed his nap. As the vulgarities exited my lips I headed toward the hall where Ciaran slept and could see TJ2 beside the crib as I figured he was, but he'd extended his arm between the rail. "DON'T TOUCH HIM!!"
As he backed away from the crib he said, "Binky".
"THAT'S NOT CLEAN!"
I had become over protective of the initially unwanted child and as I saw the pacifier in his mouth I angrily snatched it out and spanked TJ2 remorsefully; being the toughest child I'd birthed, he wasn't phased but raised his head, his eyes met mine. Now I had a bawling baby...again and decided I needed help as he dropped his head and ran away toward the kitchen.
The phone chimed startling me from the thoughts of hiring a nanny, I'd known it was Troy---he often called at 3:15. Without hesitation I accepted the call this time, I needed to know.
After several attempts at pressing 1 I held the phone knowing I needed a new one but hadn't known whether its malfunction was a result from the steam that filled the bathroom the day I went into labor or if it had been damaged while in Dr. Manuel's possession. The background noise filled the speaker, I refused to speak first and he'd known. His stubbornness had always overpowered my own, finally I spoke.
"U have a son."
"I know. Ciaran."
What the fuck?
I hadn't even known how to respond, but simply asked "How the fuck do u know that?"
"Resources," he answered.
I stared at the minutes as they increased, what wasn't he telling me? I also had to keep in mind that Louisa was Ciaran's great grandmother, but Troy never even mentioned them at all, I knew their encounters had always been few, unlike with his uncle MP. In the same token, how had she known about his birth?
"He has a condition, and doesn't like light. He's yours. I will bring him to u."
"Don't come, I told u that already."
"U don't wanna see your son? Are u ashamed of him!?"
"I, just stay put. I go back to court in November."
"NOVEMBER! WHY!?"
"Ion know, that's when the lawyer said my next court date was. They won't even give a nigga a bond, and since MP gone they still tryna stick me with...but what's been up with u, u ok, my shit aint no biggie?"
"IM FINE! NOVEMBER? Ciaran will be almost a year old, u don't WANNA SEE YOUR SON? I DIDN'T ASK FOR HIM! TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!"
The tone of my voice had awakened him again after calming him down, I entered into the dark hallway, sat in the chair beside the crib, picked Ciaran up and loosened my bra. "I hadn't pictured us turning out this way," I said through the ache.
"U don't listen. I told u not to fuck with MP----and then, did u burn that nigga house down? U know he had plenty homes, right. The one on Saint Charles belonged to---nevermind. U do too much."
"How do u figure I burned---"
"Damn, u raw---was that ya sister they found inside too? Just wondering, MP kept all kinda shit up his sleeve, and it ain't over."
My words hadn't even sounded convincing not even to myself but I couldn't go into details for why I'd burned the home, I couldn't say it was because I wanted to kill Dario! As I considered what had happened and how quickly it had occurred something just didn't add up.
" U saw my TLady house, u know how she got all that? U know why she died---or not, did u just go along for the ride?"
"What the fuck do u mean Makil, u have a damn son! I can't do this shit alone, U CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME!"
"Yea, alright. How u get out on 4 counts of murder---"
The call had only lasted 5 minutes and 49 seconds, he would hear me out fuck what he thought! He couldn't just pursue, impregnate me and then abandon me and my son! I didn't give a fuck if he was locked up or not, I would make sure he would be freed and kill him my damn self!
"WHY ARE U SO STUBBORN! DO U WANNA DIE IN JAIL?"
"MP aint dead, Im just giving u heads up---that nigga powerful enough to pull anything off, sound like to me they set your stupid ass up."
"SET ME UP? HOW!!? U SET ME UP WITH THIS CRYING ASS BABY!"
He laughed.
"Yea, I shoulda killed u like I was suppose to."
"DO U MEAN THAT?"
"NAH."
His words cut deep, and that muthafucka didn't know who I was apparently, I loved him so much but decided at that moment I would kill him heartlessly for playing with my emotions.
"I DON'T KNOW WHY I EVEN LIKED YOUR BLACK ASS!"
"But u miss me. Calm down. Im finna get rid of the lawyer, I need a new one."
I hated him!
My son stared at me while being breastfed contently listening to his father's voice. The Robert Julius Beyschlag Mother and Child oil painting hung transverse from where I sat, it's message was unclear as the words methodical and hidden floated from the title. Troy's words were heard but I pondered over the words from the painting. Romanced, torched, chained, cremation and heirdom all followed as he called out to me.
"Huh? Oh Yea..."
Dominated, cometh---cometh? What the fuck? Nomad, Hotelman---unh uh.
Chimed---
Decimal---
Children---
Bitch wait a minute.
Doctrine, Hitman, Chanted---
"I'll call u back," I said as he spoke about a new court date, "Someone is at the door."
"Oh, now u having company?"
"Just the psychiatrist, I needed help since I was abandoned and all---I'm alone with all these FUCKING KIDS! I NEEDED COUNSELING!"
"That won't help. U gonna fuck him too?"
The affect his words had on me was inscrutable, but I yet wondered if he loved me or were we all the same to him.
"What was your motive, surely u had one and it wasn't money."
"I didn't have one u came at me."
Liar. I specifically remembered him following me, and now I wasn't shit to him! He would never get his money back but also he hadn't even asked for it.
"Who is at the door?"
"Your grandfather."
He laughed.
"Him too huh..."
He'd called just to aggravate me!
"What the fuck do u want from me? CALL TERRICA!"
"Nah, she ain't got nothing I want."
When the doorbell rang I was shocked as if I hadn't just said someone was at the door, I stood up in confusion and laid my child down as he dominantly fussed. I hadn't known who had come nor had I wanted anyone to know I was inside, not even Dr. Manuel! I picked up the pacifier and placed it in his mouth which instantly calmed him. I then tiptoed toward the door quieting the speaker on the phone but listening to my child's father's bullshit. As I'd neared the front door I could see the rear end of Louisa's limo through the separated drapes. I became upset and snatched open the door, why had she come and how the fuck did she know where I lived!? I would find a new location as soon as she departed, she was unwelcome!
I had snatched the door open out of anger before seeing Alexander, Louisa's husband also he was Troy's grandfather.
"Tis wonderful to see spring in view, the trees are as vibrant as St. George's brand. Hazel, it is an honor to see u again."
He reached for my hand before bowing and kissing the back of it.
"Alexander."
The older gentleman stood in the doorway yet wearing cold weather attire in a Brunello Cucinelli scarf and a Kiton windowpane sport coat. He removed his hat, I noticed the bald area that encircled his crown and the silver hair that surrounded it. I stepped aside as he entered into the home looking at the high ceilings.
"Favored among them---the splendid decor is suitable for monarchy. Tell me, how is the son?"
The sun spilled into the foyer as he entered and as if my baby could sense the light he began to cry. Alexander followed his sound.
I knew the call from Troy would end soon, as always our communication would be cut short by the automated recording announcing we only had 60 seconds left. I watched the brawny older gentleman reach for my son, and as if Ciaran could see him, he focused before putting his balled fists in his mouth.
"Connoisseur of darkness."
As he coddled my son, I sensed no harm but wondered why he had come. I looked at the call duration time across the screen, Lawrence the Orchard manager called. I'd missed several calls from him over the duration of my hospital stay and had known he was calling to discuss his yearly salary. I'd learned there were many stipulations to he and Trenton's friendship. Also, I felt he knew more than he'd let be known.
Alexander's scent lingered in the home, the expensive aftershave I'd been unaccustomed to but yet the smell his presence was rich. The doctor's had sparked an interest in me finding out about my mother's father, as well as her mother. All I'd ever known was that they were Caucasian and my grandfather was also a preacher like my father.
Somehow Alexander had known not to enter into the light with my son and I noticed how content Ciaran was. Genuinely and from an earthly perspective he cared for his own offspring, his son was in fact Troy's father.
"Relocate," Troy said after a long moment of silence. We only had a little over 3 minutes left to talk, and I needed to pour my heart out! I loved him so much, he would never understand! I'd lost everything to be with him and given him the child he desperately pretended to want! I planned to visit him, no ifs, ands, or buts.
"Why?" I asked discreetly.
The operator interrupted, "U have to keep my son safe, u smart u will figure it all out," he said after the recording ended.
"I have to pay for more minutes, when will u call back?"
"Just answer, I gotta go."
Just like that, the call ended.
The heartbreak was apparent, "And his father---how is he? U know sometimes we tend to stray but return sooner or later. So much like his father, u know his mother couldn't make her mind up---between the two. I often wonder about the girl, and her awful condition. Just come about all of a sudden, ya know. A shame about what happened to her father. Well, I must run---just had to lay eyes on the child, many gifts are in the car.
As I looked at him I saw a symbol of some sort barely visible above his scarf.
His gentleness with my son warmed me to a certain extent as he now laid on his back content. I sneered at how he'd given me pure hell---always. I needed his father but considered his condition that they'd classified as a medical anomaly and said it was a trait that had combined from both sides. I'd done my share of research on OCA Type 6 and OCA Type 3 which was just as mysterious and was a result of an African inheritance that caused his eyes to develop a blue pigmentation. At times his eyes appeared purplish. The blonde hair and fine texture were results of the type 6. His combined types had intrigued the physicians but he wasn't a lab rat, I refused to take him back---ever. Alexander turned to leave but beckoned to the driver to bring the trunk full of gifts inside.
I asked him about the pacifier, he hadn't sent it but agreed the paper the note was written on hadn't been seen around for many years.
"I will be sure to tell Louisa, who sends her best wishes, I've laid eyes on the son---blessed he was to behold and be held, yet his cord was his sustenance but has been lacerated and not fallen off. It was to be kept and the lack of ---is the origin of his discontentment.
Huh?
Dr. Manuel had quickly severed me and my son, was leaving the umbilical cord attached to him ritualistic I wondered but didn't ask.
TJ2 had lifted his head and watched Alexander exit the home before darting toward the door after him, I'd tried to snatch a knot in his ass as he ran behind the stranger. His lack of attention for my 2 year old somewhat pissed me off.
Many items were piled into the foyer, among them was a blanket with an unfamiliar symbol which appeared to be handmade. My intentions were to get rid of everything he'd brought but noticed how calm Ciaran was while Alexander visited.
Troy's words remained in my mind, why had he told me to relocate? Surely he'd already known it had been my intentions. I called out to the boys who had become quiet without getting a response.
Help. Help was all I needed I concluded.
I texted Lawrence and told him to meet me at the Orchard. He had Mississippi ties, and so had Martin.
Dr. Manuel's persistent calls vexed me to a certain extent. I knew he was married and his excuse to call now was he wondered about the boys, or how they had filled the void of him not having his own sons. Being of African descent I wondered how how he could be of help and decided I needed him after all as I answered his call. I would soon find out how well he and Trenton really knew each other.
After remembering Ciaran had been awake but pacified I walked back to his crib to find him on his back wide awake but focused on the same tiny light on the wall TJ2 had followed. Alarmed I picked him up and turned to leave but as I had I noticed the painting on the wall again, this time the words demonic, thrice and midland, levitated above the title, "Mother and Child".
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone