A Good Dude (46 page)
Authors: Keith Thomas Walker
“
Where my baby, nigga
?”
“Please stop!” Candace croaked.
And Rilla did stop then. He looked around until he saw Candace. They stared at each other solemnly. Rilla stood and took a few steps towards his baby’s mother.
CC knelt and plunged his blade deep into Tino’s side, all the way to the hilt. Tino let out a scream that was destined to replay in Candace’s nightmares for years to come. It bounced around the breezeway like an ambulance stuck in a tunnel.
“AAAAAAAH!”
Tino rolled to his back and groped at his wound with both hands. Candace could see his face now, and she saw that it was twisted in agony. Blood flowed from his nose. His features were knotted and swollen in so many places. Blood leaked from a wound above his hairline. It spilled down past his eyebrows, into his eyes and mouth. His shirt was soiled and ripped. Even his pants were torn. One shoe was missing.
Rilla turned again and stared down at Tino. He saw the fresh spray of blood blossoming on the young man’s shirt. Rilla’s fists were still balled, but a queer look changed the scowl that was once his face. Rilla looked to CC. His bottom lip hung dumbly and glistened with spittle.
“What’d you do?”
CC didn’t respond. His face was stiff like a statue. There was no fear. No remorse. He wiped the knife on his pants legs, his eyes on Candace the whole time.
Candace crawled forward with one arm supporting
Leila, the other hand clawing the pavement. Every time she put weight on her bad knee, it felt like she was smashing it all over again, but she kept moving. “
Please, Rilla. Leave him alone
,” she croaked.
Rilla hesitated, unsure what his next move should be. Tino rolled and writhed at his tormentor’s feet. “Come on, dog. Let’s go.” CC grabbed Rilla’s arm and pulled him towards the opposite stairway.
Rilla looked from Candace to Tino. His look of confusion was real. “What’d you do?” he asked CC again.
“Come on, cuz. We gotta go.” CC pulled on his shirt, and then turned and dipped down the stairs by himself when Rilla didn’t respond. “We gotta go!” he called from below.
Candace cried and crawled past her ex-boyfriend’s feet. Rilla didn’t move. He stood stiffly and followed her with his eyes. Sweat dotted his forehead like morning dew.
Candace dragged herself to Tino’s broken and bloodied body. She sat next to him and pulled his head into her lap. Tino moaned and cried weakly. His chest rose and fell. He kicked out with his legs and scraped his bare foot across the concrete.
Candace trembled uncontrollably. She sniffled loudly and stroked his hair gently. His wonderful locks were matted and gooey in one spot above his left ear. Her hand was soaked with blood within seconds.
Rilla stared down at them angrily, but his fire was fading. “Thi-this
yo
fault,” he said, more for his benefit than hers.
Candace was scarcely aware he was still there. She cried fiercely and brushed her nose with the sleeve of her work shirt.
“Tuh-Tino. Tino, can you hear me?”
One of Tino’s eyes was swollen closed. He quieted and squinted with the other one, but it was glossed over with blood.
“Kuh-kuh-Candace?” Blood spilled from his mouth now. Candace knew what that meant, but refused to accept it. She tried to keep her voice steady.
“It’s—it’s me,” she said. She put her maroon-colored hand on the side of his face and brushed his cheek gently.
“I’m—I’m
dying
,” Tino said. It was hard to understand him. His lips were misshapen, and there was a gurgling quality to his voice.
Candace’s chest shuddered. “No, Tino,” she bawled. “No, you’re not.”
Without any further words, Rilla turned and stepped briskly down the stairs. A moment later Candace heard a car door open and close, but CC didn’t peal off like she expected. He drove away slowly and casually as if shanking someone was a misdemeanor nowadays.
“I’m cuh-cold,” Tino said.
Candace bit her bottom lip so hard her mouth was soon wet with blood. “It’s cold outside, Tino. That’s all.”
She heard sirens in the distance. They were getting closer.
“They’re coming to help you, Tino. Can you hear?”
“Are . . . . are you leaving?” he asked.
Candace sniffed loudly. Tears mixed with mucus dribbled past her lips.
“No, Tino. I’ll never leave you.
Never
.”
Brooklyn, New York
Christmas Eve
One Year Later
Candace sat on the back porch of her parents’ home in Prospect Heights and stared out at the many acres of white; wonderful white, beautiful white. The porch was enclosed with solid walls rather than screens, but it was still pretty nippy out there. Candace’s lips were cold, and her nose was starting to run a bit.
Leila, on the other hand, was impervious to these frigid temperatures. Gerald said she was part polar bear. Leila pawed through a huge box of toys Grandpa had back there on the porch. Most of the trinkets belonged to Candace many moons ago, but Leila was not one to reject a plaything, even if it was a couple decades old.
The baby was eighteen months now. She wore thick denim jeans with big black boots her grandfather bought for her. The boots had a rubber shell, like galoshes, but the sides were quilted and lined with faux fur. Leila wore a toddler-size bomber jacket. It was pink like Candace’s, and had a fur-lined hoodie as well. Leila had fuzzy mittens and a scarf also. She could stand on her own now. She leaned on the large box, but it was almost as tall as her.
“Mama.” She pointed with one hand while flashing Candace the most dazzling smile. Leila had a few baby choppers. Her bunny rabbit teeth were the biggest, and they weren’t crooked like Candace’s were at her age. So far it looked like Leila might be able to avoid braces. Candace had hers taken out just a few weeks ago.
Leila’s hood had streaks of brown and tan fur. The tan matched her eyes, and the brown matched her skin, which had gotten a little darker over the last twelve months.
Candace smiled at her daughter. “What is it?” she asked.
Leila tried to climb into the box, but the rim was chest-high. She stood on her tiny tippy toes and reached with both hands, still unable to claim her prize. She looked back to her mother and smiled eagerly.
“Puppy,” she said. “
Mine
.”
Candace stood from the padded rocking chair she was so fond of and peered into the cardboard box. There really was a puppy in there. It was the Laugh and Learn Puppy. Candace hadn’t seen the thing since she moved back to New York, but she recognized it immediately. She bent and retrieved it for her daughter.
This was the doll Tino bought for Leila when Candace first regained her from the CPS network. Back then the stuffed animal could sing songs and teach baby her colors, 123’s and ABC’s. Candace was sure it wouldn’t work after all this time, but when she squeezed its paw, the dog began to sing again.
Sort of.
It sounded like an old record spinning with extra slow RPMs. The noise stopped altogether after only a couple seconds, and the oversized puppy went mute again, possibly forevermore.
“Uh-uh!” Leila pulled on Candace’s pants leg, reaching up with both hands.
Candace handed over the old toy, and Leila held it out at arms length and studied the puppy’s goofy face. Candace remembered when the dog was just as big as her daughter. Now Leila was twice as big as the dog. She giggled and hugged it like it was a long-lost friend.
The back door swung open and Candace’s mom stepped out.
“
Ooh, child!
It’s freezing out here, Candace! What are you doing? And I know you don’t have Leila out here! What’s wrong with you, girl?”
“There’s no wind,” Candace said. She walked back to the rocking chair and took a seat. Candace wore jeans with her fluffy bomber. She also wore Isotoner gloves and had a thermal under all of that. Katherine Hendricks wore only thin slacks and a sweater. Of course
she
was cold.
Grandma scooped up Leila, and Leila held on to her dog. Katherine kissed her grandchild and frowned at her daughter.
“Candace, this girl’s face is
cold
.”
“She likes it out here.”
“She likes anything you like,” Katherine said good-naturedly. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
“Just looking at the snow,” Candace replied.
“You didn’t get any snow last year,” Katherine remembered.
Candace smiled and stared out as if in a daze. “No. I didn’t.”
“I’m taking the baby in,” Katherine said. “Gerald has some more outfits he wants her to try on.” Candace’s mom turned to go inside, but she stopped and stared at her daughter. “What are you thinking about?”
“As soon as it got close to Christmas,” Candace said, “I started thinking about what happened.”
Katherine nodded. “You probably will for many Christmases to come.”
“I want to have a Christmas without thinking about that stuff,” Candace said.
“My mother died on her birthday thirteen years ago,” Katherine said. “Every April I still think about her.”
Candace nodded. Her mother took Leila inside and left Candace alone with her thoughts, but the solitude didn’t last long. Candace’s favorite cousin stepped out onto the porch a few minutes later.
“Hey, girl!” she said, and took a seat in the other rocker. “Hey,” Candace said, still looking out onto the barren landscape.
Gerald’s sister, Aunt Betty, came down from Staten Island every Christmas. She was a single mother, very successful in pharmaceuticals. Her daughter, Toya, was raised much like Candace. The two girls both went to private schools, both made excellent marks, and both lost out on what they considered regular kid experiences; they never saw fights or had friends who were potheads or anything cool like that.
Candace rebelled against her storybook life by running halfway across the country with Rilla. Toya might have done something similar, but the opportunity never presented itself. Toya was now a freshman at Long Island University. She was thinking about transferring to Columbia with Candace.
“What you doing out here in the cold by yourself?” Toya asked. She was thin and attractive. Her complexion was darker than Candace’s, and she was also prettier, in Candace’s opinion.
“Just thinking,” Candace said.
“You thinking about what happened in Texas, ain’t you?” Toya asked.
Candace looked over at her and grinned. “Why would you say that?”
“Your mama says you’re out here thinking about last year and you’re all depressed.”
Candace shook her head. “I’m not depressed.”
“But you are thinking about it?” Toya asked.
Candace sighed. “Yes,
Miss Nosey
, I’m thinking about it.” Toya sat up in her seat. “You wanna talk about it?” Candace smirked. “Are you asking because you want to help me get through something, or do you only want to hear a bloody story?”
Toya grinned unabashedly. “Was it really bloody?” Candace closed her eyes and she could see it all. She shook her head and vanquished the memories. “Sorry,
Dr. Phil. I don’t think I’ll be sharing today.”
Toya stomped her foot. “Come on, Candace! You know I don’t get to see you that much.”
“If you come to Columbia, you can see me all the time.”
“Mama won’t let me,” Toya pouted. “I wish I could run away like you.”
“That’s your problem,” Candace said. “You think I had it easy out there on my own.”
“You won’t never talk about it,” Toya said. “What am I supposed to think?”
Candace knew this was yet another ploy to get the story out of her. “You heard about the fight and cops. You know I lost my baby. You know I went to jail. What part of that sounds cool to you?”
Toya grinned. “
All of it
.”
Candace rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious,” Toya said. “You the only person I know who went to jail. And you’re the only person I know who had their own apartment and a baby all by themselves. I told my friends about you. You’re like a queen to them.”
“I know how it is,” Candace said. “I went to private schools, too.”
“So you’ll tell me a story?”
Candace leaned back in the rocker. “How about I tell you what your mom would want you to know,” she offered. “I’ll tell you about the consequences of negative behavior.”
“That’s boring.”
Candace chuckled. “That’s all I’m giving you.” Toya listened intently.
“Did you know,” Candace began, “that if you’re with someone who tries to kill someone else, they can charge you with attempted murder?”
“I know if you do a drive-by they’ll charge you with it, even if you were just driving,” Toya said.
“Even if you’re in the back and you don’t even have a gun,” Candace said. “Even if you just got picked up and you had no idea they were going to do a drive-by.”
“That’s what happened to Rilla?” Toya asked.
Candace nodded. “He didn’t know CC was going to stab Tino. I was there. I saw the whole thing.”
“But he did beat him up,” Toya noted.
“That’s what got him,” Candace said. “He attacked Tino on his own accord. So everything CC did was Rilla’s fault, too.”
“What’d they charge him with?”
“They both got charged with attempted murder,” Candace said. “I thought they were going to beat it because CC had connections with the police, but they were found guilty. Twenty years apiece.”
“Damn,” Toya said. “That’s a long time.”
“It is,” Candace agreed.
“But they’ll get out one day,” Toya said.
Candace smiled. “I don’t think CC’s ever getting out. He was working with the drug police to turn in a big-time supplier, but the deal fell through when he stabbed Tino. CC has to do twenty years for the fight, plus a life sentence for the drug charges. They run concurrent, but that’s still forty years before he gets paroled.”
“
Dang
,” Toya said. “How can they give you life for dope?”
“I used to think like that, too,” Candace said. “But CC’s a creep. He might have got life for selling drugs, but there’s more stuff he never got arrested for. Like when he raped me. It doesn’t say it on paper, but I’d like to think some of the time he’s serving is for what he did to me. Trust me, he deserves a lot worse.”
Toya nodded. “But why can’t you talk about Tino? It’s not like he’s dead or nothing.”
Candace laughed. “He’ll be here any minute.”
“He’s already here,” Toya said. “He was in there talking to your dad when I came out here.”
Candace shot to her feet. “Tino’s here?”
Toya nodded. “Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He’ll be here all day,” Toya said. “I figured you’d see him sooner or later.”
Candace rushed to the back door. She kicked her cousin on the shin on the way by.
“Ow!”
But the door opened on its own when Candace got to it. This time it was Tino. The last twelve months hadn’t changed him much, except his hair was an inch longer and his eyebrows were fuller. Tino wore black jeans with dark brown boots. He had on a white turtleneck sweater and a full-length black trench coat. He looked dashing and daring, fresh off the cover of
GQ
magazine. He was clean-shaven, but it was by choice these days. Tino could grow a full moustache in forty-eight hours if he wanted to.
