Betrayed (19 page)

An onset of nausea seemed to rise from nowhere, and the longer Brenda watched the girls, the more nauseated she became. She was oblivious of the Eagle's quarterback who was poised to throw another touchdown pass. All Brenda saw was Asia and Afrika moving in rhythm. While the images of their faces weren't clear, Brenda imagined they looked the same—identical; one light, the other dark.

Brenda needed to distance herself from the crowd. The loud noise made her dizzy and she was having a hard time controlling the emotions that had overtaken her body each time she looked at Afrika. Mimi's revelation affected her more than she realized, clouding her mind also with images of Victor and Mimi together, although the vision wasn't quite as Mimi had described.

Ugh, ugh.
Mimi doubled over, holding her neck as she vomited.

“Damn!” a spectator shouted.

“Mom, are you all right?” Trevor asked, standing up to offer assistance.

“Ah, ah, ah,” was all that came from Brenda's mouth as she tried to catch her breath.

“Hey, Trev, this your Mom?” a young man asked, gesturing at Trevor.

“Yeah, man; help me get her out of the bleachers. I'm going to take her home.”

“No,” Brenda managed to say. “You stay and enjoy the game. I'll come back for you. I'll be all right. It must have been something I ate.”

“Are you sure, Mom?”

“I'll take you home,” the young man said. “I'm borrowing my brother's car.”

“Mom, this is my friend from school, Freddie, that I was telling you about.”

“Nice to meet you, Freddie. I hope next time it will be under better circumstances.”

“No problem. Are you okay, for real?”

“Yeah, I'm all right now. You guys enjoy the game.”

“Will you guys sit down or move out of the way so we can see the game?” a rude spectator said.

“We will when my mother is all right!” Trevor hollered back.

Brenda threw Trevor two fingers to let him know she was okay and that she was on her way home.

“Call me if you need me!” Trevor shouted to Brenda.

Brenda shook her head and walked away, not bothering to look at the cheerleaders one last time.

Brenda jumped in the rental car and drove away from the stadium, her mind still conflicted. She let the car window roll down automatically; maybe the small breeze would chase her blues away. Brenda drove in silence, oblivious of the road she travelled. God had to be steering the wheel because she wasn't sure how she made it home in one piece.

After pulling into the garage, Brenda sat in silence, contemplating her next step. Life was complicated enough without having been thrown a Molotov cocktail. She willed the voices in her head to be still—the voices advocating
do unto the one who has done to you before they do it again.

“Devil, you a lie and the truth ain't in you. Get thee behind me, Satan,” Brenda uttered.

Brenda scrambled out of the car and walked into the kitchen. Beyonce, in her catlike stealthy way, entered the room and offered
a welcome home. Brenda dropped her keys on the kitchen counter and started for her bedroom but froze when Victor entered the room.

“The game couldn't have been rained out since we haven't had any in weeks. What are you doing back so early? And where is Trevor?”

“I don't feel good. Shouldn't have gone in the first place. Trevor is still at the game.”

“You don't listen. Pretending like the accident didn't do you any harm, even though your car is a mangled mess.”

“I was blessed to come out of that accident unscathed, and I don't hurt from the accident.”

“So what's wrong with you? You've been in a funky mood much too much lately.”

“Move, I'm going to the room to lay down.”

“You want me to come with you? Now that we have the house to ourselves, maybe you want to freak with the brother.”

“Why would I want to freak with you, Victor?” Brenda said as she left the kitchen heading for the stairs with Victor on her heels.

“Because you're my wife and that's what you signed up for when you said ‘I do.' I wouldn't have to go behind these hos in the street if you'd stop holding out. A brother has needs.”

Brenda stopped and turned around. “You're disgusting. I don't care if you're my husband; I'm not going to lay behind a ho. There was a time, Victor, that I was truly in love with you…would have gone to the end of the earth for you, but you've breached the contract we made before God and man one time too many. Should've left you a long time ago. It's a miracle I don't have some dreaded disease.”

“Don't even think about leaving because you ain't going nowhere. We are a family that stays together.”

“At what cost?” Brenda walked into their master bedroom and threw her purse down on the bed. She turned around and stared at Victor. A scowl had replaced the frown that lingered since entering the house. “Victor, I want a divorce.”

“Girl, you're talking crazy. So I was out last night. No harm done. Didn't feel like hearing you talk about not being able to see Mimi.”

“And why is it you don't want me to see Mimi? And I want the truth…the nineteen-year-old truth.”

Victor's eyes widened. “What in the hell are you talking about, Brenda? What do you mean by a nineteen-year-old truth?”

“You shouldn't have to think about it; you know what I mean. Don't look at me like you have amnesia.”

“I'm going to ask you one more time, Brenda. What are you talking about?”

“You sorry-ass bastard. You raped my best friend.”

Victor rushed for Brenda and grabbed her shoulders. “Who told you that lie? Mimi?”

Tears began to well up in Brenda's eyes. “Take your dirty hands off of me, Victor. You aren't anything but the scum of the earth. Mimi warned me about you. She saw right through you…the kind of person you really were. I made you, Victor. You would be
nothing
without me. My daddy helped you to get that job. Nobody wanted your ass…nobody but me because you were a loser. And I was a fool, but I won't be a fool much longer.”

“Go on and get it out of your system. Maybe I had it coming… not because of Mimi, but because I haven't been the best husband…”

“You arrogant son-of-a-bitch. All the time I thought you were the one for me…the person who dotted my I's and crossed my T's. I wanted to believe in you, Victor; I saw something no one else saw. Yeah, we made some fine babies together, climbed the
social ladder, but you couldn't leave those hoes alone. Mr. Victor Christianson had made it to the top and thought that nothing could touch him.”

“Shut up, Brenda. Mimi had no right to tell you.”

“Do you know what else she told me?”

“It's a lie, whatever it is.”

“It's not a lie. Afrika and Asia look so much alike. I have to shake my head now that I recall how you acted when you first saw Afrika at the house. Scared the daylights out of you, didn't she? You thought you'd gotten away with it?”

“I'm not that child's father. Mimi can say what she wants.”

“No one had to tell you that Afrika is your child. You did the dirty deed, and now your sins have come to light.”

“Mimi has succeeded in twisting your brain.”

“Is that why you're fighting like a dog in a cock fight? Afrika isn't some banshee that you want to go away. She's alive and in living color and looks a lot like you.”

“Somebody is going to pay for this.”

“Who, Victor? Who are you trying to blame for your misguided deeds this time? As hard as I tried not to believe the words that tumbled out of Mimi's mouth, I realized that they were true. Rumor is, you've got other babies running around the county looking like you. Get out of my face, Victor. I've thrown up enough for today.”

Victor turned away and grabbed his coat off the chair. There was a loud thud, followed by a boom, causing both Brenda and Victor to freeze and then look at each other.

Startled, Brenda walked in the direction of the noise. Lying next to Victor's foot on the hardwood floor was a steel-barreled gun. Victor picked it up and looked into the nose.

“A gun, Victor? You brought a loaded gun into this house…our bedroom? What were you planning to do with it? Kill me?”

“Brenda, please be quiet. No one is going to kill anybody.”

“Maybe you didn't hear the bang.” Brenda looked around the room, stopped, put her hand over her mouth, and began to point. “There's a hole in the wall. And you're going to stand there and tell me that the safety was on the gun and that it accidently came undone.”

“Believe what you want. I got the gun for protection.”

“Protection from whom? Yourself, Victor? You must think I'm stupid, but I've got your number. My God, what is going on here?”

“Look, I've got to go out.”

“Where are you going, Victor? I hope to God you're not going to do anything crazy. Mimi hasn't done anything to you. She should've reported you for rape years ago, but she literally spared your life.”

“Shut up, Brenda!” Victor screamed. “I don't want to hear anything else about Mimi! She had no business coming back here! She should've left well enough alone! And you're not going anywhere! You're my wife!”

“Not for long,” Brenda retorted, her hands on her hips. “I've had about enough of you as I can stand.”

Victor took a long hard look at Brenda and turned the gun over in his hand. “You don't want to make me your enemy. It wouldn't be wholesome for family relations.”

“So, I ask you again. Do you plan to kill me?” Brenda asked.

“Don't provoke me, Brenda. I've maintained my composure better than I expected.” Victor turned away and put the gun in his pocket.

“Give me the gun, Victor. You're not going anywhere until you give it to me.”

“For a psychologist, you don't make much sense. Any sensible person would tell another to move out of my way. Now move out of my way, Brenda.”

Victor's voice boomed and Brenda jumped. She watched as Victor hurried out of the room. His feet made pitter patter sounds on the stairs that ran from the top floor to the main floor. And then she heard it.
BAM.
The sound of Victor's anger as he slammed the door, shaking the house like a mini earthquake. Brenda stood a moment and assessed all that had transpired. Then she moved out of her trance, picked up the purse she'd thrown on the bed, and pulled out her cell phone.

Brenda dialed a number. “Answer, Mimi, answer. I've got to warn you.”

F
uming, Victor drove blindly down the street. He flexed and then relaxed his fingers on his free hand, trying to will the anxiety that coursed through his body to quiet down. He couldn't believe Brenda had dared step to him, slandering his name with accusations that Mimi had put in her head. Brenda had pushed him to the brink, and he couldn't be responsible for what might happen.

Victor wasn't a killer; he was a lover. He loved up on a lot of women, but while he may not have shown it, he loved Brenda. It was his love for her that had kept him from aiming the gun and quieting her down. She kept droning on and on about his indiscretions…how she made him, making him look like the imbecile of the year with no backbone. Why did Brenda want to break up their happy home, a home that he'd cultivated for her and their two children?

Grasping the wheel, Victor sped on until he was finally at the entrance of Mimi's subdivision. He pushed air from his mouth and proceeded ahead; his mind made up on the task he planned to carry out.

He parked the car and jumped from it, looking both ways to see if anyone could ID him. Seeing no one, he marched up to Mimi's door and rang the bell. As he waited, he glided his hand over the bulge in his coat pocket.

Annoyed, Victor rang the bell again, but still no answer. He banged the door with his fist, but still no answer. He put his ear to the door and listened for any signs of movement in the house. Hearing none, he moved away, looking left and right before getting back into his car.

Victor sat a moment, his anger increased twofold. He beat the steering wheel with his hand and rolled his eyes around in his head. Then it came to him. He sat up straight, turned on the ignition, and headed out of the development.

He pushed the car as fast as it would go within the boundary of the law. He took a left and then a right and headed for the interstate. He was pushed for time. He exited the interstate at Fayetteville Street and headed toward North Carolina Central University.

Fayetteville Street and the area surrounding the stadium were littered with automobiles. He was fortunate enough to be at the right place at the right time as someone pulled out of a spot in front of him. Victor patted his trenchcoat and headed for the ticket booth.

“Hi, Mr. Christianson,” the pretty brown-skinned girl in the ticket booth said as Victor pushed his money toward her.

“Good afternoon; one adult ticket.”

“We're in the fourth quarter. There's no need for you to pay. You've got to get here early next time. I think we're winning.”

“Thank you,” Victor said, offering a semi-smile to the nice young lady before pushing on. “What's up, dawg?” he said to the school safety officer who stood at the gate.

“Central's kicking some butt. You missed a good game, man. You better hurry on in because this game is about over.”

Victor and the guard gave each other a casual fist bump, and Victor moved into the stadium and into the crowd.

“Third down, eight to go with NC Central leading by three
points,” the announcer said. “NC Central's ball on the thirty-yard line with a minute and half left in the game.”

Victor moved toward the bleachers. He spotted the cheerleaders, cheering the crowd on to victory and stopped when he spotted Afrika amongst them. Victor quickly walked up in to the stands without taking his eyes off of Afrika and blended in with the crowd that was now on its feet.