A Love So Deep (35 page)

T
here
was a slight chill in the hallway of the hospital as Elroy and Graham stepped from the elevator on their way to ICU. No hustle or bustle this afternoon, just an occasional beep of a monitor as they passed several doorways before approaching the nurses’ station.

“Room 23E,” the station nurse told Graham and Elroy. “Only family members allowed.”

They nodded their heads in acknowledgment.

A noisy sigh of relief escaped Elroy’s mouth when they entered Martha’s room. Martha was sitting up with her eyes open. Although encumbered by a series of tubes and wires that hung about her, she managed a faint smile at the sight of her two favorite men. She was a sight for sore eyes as tears welled up in the corner of Elroy’s tiny eyes.

Elroy and Graham, hands clasped together, walked the few feet to Martha’s bedside. Graham was happy for the support, too, but released his grip so Elroy could enjoy the first moment with Martha.

“How’s my man?” Martha said in a voice so low it was almost inaudible.

“Save your breath, girl. Your man is doing fine now. You gave me a big scare.”

Martha smiled and mouthed,
I know
.

“I love you, girl. Lord, I don’t know what I’d do if you left me here.”

“Probably find a new woman like our son Graham.” Martha smiled and then raised her hand slowly and waved her fingers for Graham to come near. “What you standing back there for? Trying to make me holler?”

Graham walked to the bed and stood next to Elroy. He leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on Martha’s forehead, then looked longingly after her. “No, Mother, just wanted to give you and Dad some time. I’m so glad to see you in such good spirits.”

“I’m fine, now. In fact, I’m ready to go home.”

“I told you to stop talking, girl,” Elroy cut in. “I want you to get completely well. I have a special pill for you if you be good.”

Graham sputtered into his hand as he tried not to laugh out loud. But it was too late. Martha began to laugh, although her voice was no louder than a whisper. Then Elroy laughed. A nurse passing by heard the commotion and walked in.

“I don’t know what’s going on in here, but you two are going to be evicted if you upset my patient in any way.”

Martha couldn’t stop laughing, and soon everybody was in stitches holding their sides with their hand while covering their mouths with the other. The nurse looked at all three of them and began to grin even though no one made her privy to the joke.

“Behave,” she admonished again and left the room still grinning and chuckling about how funny they all looked.

“Well, keep me company so I can hurry up and recuperate. I want to test out that pill you keep talking about.” The trio looked from one to the other, then covered their mouths again, trying to stifle their laughter.

Parking was at a premium. Friday nights were always popular at The Water Hole, but it seemed that tonight everybody wanted to shake off the turkey, ham, and sweet potato pie they had eaten the day before. It was the long weekend and there was no other way to start it off right, with the exception of feeding their faces on Thanksgiving, then with some good, finger-popping music at the Hole. Cadillacs, Lincolns, and Mercedes dotted the parking lot like a late-night auto show at the Cow Palace.

Rita was tired, but she gave the crowd what they wanted to hear. Dressed in a sassy, powder-blue, chenille, form-fitted dress that fanned at the bottom and highlighted the swell of her breasts held up by a pair of spaghetti straps, Rita empowered the audience with her riveting tunes. They held onto lovers so no one else would steal them or kicked up their heels and gyrated their bodies in three/four time. Mascara and makeup was smeared on lovers’ collars or made track marks on female faces as the temperature soared upward along with the frenzy of the dancers who kept the dance floor hot.

It was the musicians’ time to shine. The four other members who made up Midnight Express went into action. Johnny, the bass guitarist, led the pack. He stood up and performed a short solo number. His body began to gyrate, dipping his guitar toward the floor and then up again as he jumped into the air and then into a perfect split. Gerald, the cello player, took over. His fancy finger work plucked into the soul of the listener. Adonis, the pianist, began to play a soft melody that ended in a crescendo. His fingers rippled over the keys as they went up and down the scale causing the audience to cry out for more. And Rico, the drummer, brought up the rear—a little swish of the snare drum, a tinkle on the cymbals, ending in a series of well-orchestrated moves that highlighted his skill as a drummer. Then the four sounds blended together—couples stopped on the dance floor to take notice, pop their fingers, and sway to the beat. The sound of Midnight Express was so smooth and electrifying, it was a wonder they hadn’t gone on and made a name for themselves.

As the band played, Rita searched the audience. No sign of Graham. She spotted Charlie holed up at the bar nursing a drink with Shelly at his side. He never raised his head to look at the stage. Just as Rita was about to go back to the mike, she spotted William sitting at a table in the corner. Angie was hovering nearby. She gasped and turned away.

William watched Rita until their eyes connected. He saw the look on her face. She seemed frightened. Rita had nothing to fear from him.

A napkin lay on the table in front or him. William picked it up, took out a pen and wrote something on it. He folded the napkin in quarters and proceeded to the front of the room as Angie stood back and watched. William found Clyde and whispered something in his ear, gave him the paper and returned to his seat without ever saying a word to Angie.

William watched Rita read the note he had given Clyde. Rita fumbled around with the mike, glancing again at the note. The audience stood patiently and waited for her to sing, but she stood and stared into the crowd with a blank look on her face, clearing her throat repeatedly as if it was the cause of her delay. Even the band seemed confused. Suddenly Rita swung around and looked dead into William’s eyes, ripping the mike from its stand.

“I have a special request…from…my ex-husband, William Long, who is in the house tonight,” Rita began. “He wants me to sing his favorite song that he on many nights sang to me—’My Funny Valentine.’” Rita continued to look straight into an amused William’s eyes while Angie’s jaw dropped as the words flew from Rita’s mouth. A hush fell over the room after the last
ahh
had died down. “Funny thing, he was my valentine once, but that was over twenty years ago. He broke Cupid’s arrow in half, and now he thinks he can just waltz back into my life because he’s a miserable…”

“You don’t have to sing, Rita,” Clyde hollered from backstage.

Rita was on a roll.

“Oh, I’m going to sing it, but just not the version he remembers. My funny valentine,” Rita began.

“Stop, Rita,” Clyde called out to her.

With her eyes shut tight, Rita ignored Clyde and continued to sing as she gripped the microphone tight with both hands. She belted out the words mechanically, like the tin man in the
Wizard of Oz
, crying out for love with an empty heart, changing and rearranging the words to suit the mood she was in. “Don’t change your hair for me…”

Not able to stand any more, William got up from the table, knocking his chair over as he did and headed for the door. A bewildered Angie watched William’s back disappear while tears slid, then rained, down her cheeks. William had humiliated her for the last time.

R
ita
was drained and the weight of the evening was heavy on her. She lost control in front of a crowd of people, her adoring fans, to get back at a trying-to-get-back-in-her-life-no-good-ex-husband who wasn’t worth the time of day—time she wasted and could never recover. She looked out at the near empty club—patrons pulling themselves from their seats while others tipped glasses trying to sip the last bit of alcohol before hitting the night air, and hung her head.

She doubted anyone would care in the morning what had happened tonight. The grapevine would be busy for a few hours at the beauty shop, and then the topic of conversation would jump to something else—storytellers bored after recounting what went on at The Water Hole for the fifth time.

Rico and Johnny passed Rita in the hallway and offered to take her home. Rita didn’t know what she would do without the band. Midnight Express was more than just a band that showcased her work. They were a big family glued together at the seams. Rita waved the guys on, wanting to be alone, while her mind drifted back to the evening’s wrestling match—Rita versus William.

Rita turned at the sound of Clyde’s feet brushing the carpet as he came toward her.

“Let me take you home, Rita,” Clyde consoled, rubbing her back with soft feathery strokes. “I see your boy didn’t show up tonight.”

“His mother-in-law had a heart attack last night, and he’s been at the hospital with his father-in-law most of the day.”

“Well, let me take…”

“No, Clyde. I’ll get a cab. That way you can finish up.”

“May I ask you a question?”

Rita’s brown eyes, with their long wispy lashes, penetrated Clyde’s face as she went on the offensive. “You may. I’m sure I have an idea what you’re going to ask me.”

“Rita, I love you like you were my own daughter. What happened out there tonight? I’ve never in all the times you’ve performed here seen you act like you did tonight.”

“When I saw him come up and bring that piece of paper to you…with that smug look on his face…and then seeing his handwriting on that piece of paper asking me to sing that song, I lost it. I just completely lost it, Clyde.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen him here before. He’s been coming for a long time. What was it about tonight that made you go haywire?”

“Look, Clyde. My relationship with William…my marriage to William was a very rocky one. I suffered a lot during that time, but I bounced back. It took a lot of love, and most of all, understanding parents who took care of me when I didn’t think I could take care of myself. I fought back and took my life back in my own hands, and no one, I don’t care who they are, will take away my dignity and self-respect ever again. I’ve come too far.

“I have a good man in my life, and it’s such a shame that whenever something good begins to happen in my life, something tries to destroy it. But I’ll be damned, I tell you…I’ll be damned, Clyde, if Mr. William Long is going to slide his way in here and think he’s going to take residence in my life. Not on your life.”

“I hear you on that. What about Graham?”

“What about Graham?”

“Does he know your ex is in town?”

“No.”

“After tonight, he’s going to know.”

Rita’s head flopped forward until it touched her chest. then brought it up again, looking into Clyde’s concerned eyes. “You’re right. I’ve got to talk to Graham.”

A wide smile crossed Clyde’s face. “Well, baby girl, you be careful. I worry about you. I’m going to call you a cab, and you better call me as soon as you get in the door.”

“Thanks, Clyde. You’re so good to me.”

Rita walked the few feet to where Clyde stood and placed a kiss on his shiny, bald head.

“Girl, you made my day.”

The air was crisp but refreshing when Rita emerged from the club. She draped her wrap over her shoulders and drew it tight about her body. Looking around her, she suddenly gazed heavenward and smiled at the blanket of stars that were sprinkled across the sky like little white Christmas lights. With her feet apart, she raised her arms high to grasp as many stars as she could, finally picking out the brightest one and pretending to pluck it from the cluster of other stars. She gave it a big hug and kiss and thanked her lucky star for sending Graham her way. With some reluctance and after one more kiss, Rita flung her arms upward and placed her lucky star back amongst the other stars in the constellation.

As if on cue, a yellow taxi drove up to the front of the club and stopped in front of Rita. A young man in his early twenties, lean with a close-cropped, precision haircut, jumped from the cab and hurried to the other side and opened the door. Rita smiled and proceeded to get in, taking one more glance upward before she did.

Rita rode in silence, looking up every now and then, passing a nod to her admirer in the rearview mirror. The streets were virtually empty, save a few people who found their way to a twenty-four-hour restaurant to fill the void dancing all night had induced.

Rita took out her cell. Graham had called twice. She punched in the number one and listened as the transmitter recalled the pre-programmed number for Graham. A groggy voice met Rita’s ear.

“Hey, baby,” Rita said, her admirer glued to the rearview mirror.

“Hey, baby,” Graham muttered. “How was tonight?”

“Okay as nights go. Were you sleep?”

“Yeah, baby…It was a long day.” Graham yawned. “Elroy and I spent most of the day with Martha. Looks like she’s going to be all right. By the way, Mary Ross called wanting to know where you were. It was a…strange phone call.”

“Baby, go to sleep. I’ll come over first thing in the morning. We’ll sit and talk then.”

“All right baby, I’m tired. Are you on your way home?”

“Yep. I had a long day, too. I’m in a cab.”

“Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Graham Peters. ‘Bye.”

The face in the mirror vanished and the rest of the trip was in total silence. Scattered clusters of light illuminated the street as the cab drove through the heart of West Oakland into Emeryville, but most of the city was at rest, lying between cool sheets and a warm blanket.

A swift turn made Rita’s neck jerk. Her head nodded forward, but she was alert now that her apartment was in view. The cab pulled to the curb—the taxi driver once more surveying his now departing guest. And Rita was flattered as she tried to pass the driver a ten-dollar bill that fell onto the seat because his eyes were fixed on her. She doubted he heard the words, “Keep the change.”

The driver scrambled to open Rita’s door, and she smiled again. She thanked him and headed for the entrance to her building with keys in hand, looking back at the sound of tires squealing as the cab driver drove off.

An eerie feeling came over Rita. She jumped just as a car drove by. Uneasiness crept in like a slithering snake, but it could very well have been her tiredness. Rita looked into the heavens but was unable to locate her star for the heavy fog that had just rolled in.

Silence enveloped Rita as she walked up the stairs to her apartment and put the key in the lock. Out of nowhere, long spindly fingers connected to sweaty palms grabbed her wrists, unlocked the door and pushed her in. Rita jerked her arm and kicked at the shins of the intruder, but the hand tightened its grip on her wrists, pushing her up against the back of the couch with the back of the other hand. Using her elbows, Rita tried to push away. Rita lifted her face slightly to the right, and her mouth fell open and made a giant circle at the sight of the intruder.

“What are…?”

“Shut up. Don’t say a word.”

Rita’s chest heaved in and out as she continued to pull away. “Keep your hands off of me. Stay away.”

“I said shut up, little lady. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rita could smell his stale breath—a brewery that stank to high heaven. His speech was slurred, and his grip was tight on her arm. Rita’s eyes became wide as saucers, but the vicious face of her attacker meant every word he said.

“I…I…I want youuuuu, Rita. I’ve wanted you, only you…only youuuuu from the first day I saw you.” Whispering in Rita’s ear, her attacker continued. “When I hear you sing, I…I…I pretend you’re singing those…those…those love songs to me. ‘I Can’t Live Without You,’ ‘You’re My Everything,’ ‘Ain’t Nothing but the Real Thing.’ I’ve dreamed for years, months, weeks, days, and minutes that I carried you off in a coach drawn by six white horses to a place far away from civilization—just you and me. I…I…didn’t have to share you with anyone, and you just sang and I made sweet…ahh…love to you over and over and over again.”

Rita cringed at the thought.

“Oh, baby, the moment has finally come. No-o-o Graham to rescue your heartbeats—only me. He is a greedy fool. Had the best woman this side of the Mississippi all those years. He loses her to death, and he thinks he can just pick up where he left off…picking new fruit from the vine like he had the number-one draft pick. I hate him for that. You know, I loved Amanda, too. Sick, huh? She wouldn’t give in to me, though, and she never told Graham what I had tried to do to her. She loved him too much.”

A frown streaked Rita’s face. Her mouth turned up at the corners in disgust. “My God, what kind of animal are you? Graham is your best friend for goodness’ sakes. How on earth could you violate his love and trust? He talks about you as if you were his brother—closer than a laminated piece of paper. You disgust me. Take your hands off of me.”

“Be still, little one.” Rita cringed as Charlie attempted to rub her arm. “Don’t be afraid. You’re…you’re sooo beautiful.”

Charlie’s words were again slurring and his eyelids seemed heavy. Rita raised her right leg and plowed her knee into his stomach. Charlie heaved and let out a small scream. Rita headed for the door, but in her haste, the fringe from her wrap caught onto a piece of metal strip on the armoire that held the TV. Rita tried to jerk it off, but decided to throw the wrap from her body. But Charlie was right on her heels by the time she reached for the doorknob.

Charlie pulled Rita to him and tried to force a kiss. Rita fought back. This infuriated Charlie, but Rita was not about to give in to the advances of this monster. Her nails became pointed spears and lodged an attack on Charlie’s face. Then Charlie picked Rita up and took her into her bedroom and threw her on the bed, but not before she hit the wall. A small amount of blood began to ooze from over her eyebrow. Rita pulled the comforter from the bed and wrapped herself in it, thwarting off any further blows. But Charlie was like a wild man in a hellified stupor, and he fought the she-lion tooth and nail.

There was a knock at the door. No one answered the incessant knocking. Charlie pulled a lamp from the dresser and smashed it on the floor while Rita cowered in a corner. From the corner of her eye, Rita saw Charlie stop. He looked in her direction, wiped his face, and walked briskly toward her and yelled, “I love you, Rita. I love you, Rita.”

And one moment Charlie was yelling
I love you, Rita.
And in the next, there was an eerie calm, then a loud thud after Charlie fell backward from a blow sustained by a vase to the base of his skull. Rita stared wide-eyed as her vision blurred and cleared. William was standing before her, offering his hand. She dabbed at the small amount of blood that trickled from over her eyebrow and mouth, mixed with snot and tears. William was a sight for sore eyes.

“You all right?” William asked.

“Yeah, just scared as hell.” Rita looked at the clump on the floor and covered her mouth with her hand. “What about him? Is he dead?”

“I don’t think so. Let me check his pulse.”

William kneeled down and checked Charlie’s pulse. It was faint but there was one. “Don’t move,” William said to Rita. “I’m going to call 9-1-1.”

“Thanks, William. I mean that.”