The California Saga (23 page)

 

 

Touch had become more and more independent within the past weeks, so I was able to leave the house a little more often than when he first was discharged from the hospital. I was actually to the point of leaving him home alone. He enjoyed the independence of being left alone; it gave him a much-needed ego boost.

This particular day I'd chosen to take some time out for myself so I went to Starbucks. I was sitting in a booth there, sipping on a latte, using Starbucks WiFi Connection on my laptop to look up some different wedding sites, and getting ideas about our wedding. It wasn't that we didn't have the Internet service or a computer at home. In fact, we had several, including the new HP TouchSmart PC. But I wanted to surprise Touch with how I set off our big date, so I didn't need him looking over my shoulders every minute while I was surfing the Web on our home computer.

I was planning on a major scale. I wanted a tailor-made Vera Wang dress, and a wedding setup to mimic a wedding of the royal court in England, with an aged mansion and horse and carriage to match. I'd even considered contacting David Tutera from the television show
My Fair Wedding
to guarantee that it would be a success. Our city wouldn't expect anything less than a celebrity wedding. Hell, we'd already set the tone with our New Year's party, so we had no choice but to continue the trend.

Although we hadn't set a date yet, I wanted our wedding to be the biggest event niggas in VA had ever seen, the wedding that would be talked about forever. I could already see the looks on the faces of all the haters when they see us stroll down the aisle. Our wedding was going to be the hottest shit VA had ever seen. We were definitely going down in history.

Although I'd plan to have an invitation-only event with police as security because there was no way Touch or I could take a chance of a replay from New Year's night, my guest list was already at five hundred. I was sure to invite all of the who's who and keep out all of the “who's you.” I was on some presidential shit. I was even checking out some of the pictures of Obama's inauguration on the Internet, trying to get some additional ideas for entertainment, when I heard a familiar voice interrupt my concentration.

“Jewel, is that you? Hey, girl!”

I turned around in my booth and looked up from my laptop to see the nurse from the hospital, Misty. “Oh! Hey, Misty.”

“How's your boo, Trayvon?” Misty used the same slang she'd used in the hospital the day we'd first met.

We both laughed, acknowledging that moment.

“He's great! He's walking without his walker now.”

“Wonderful!”

“Misty, I just want to thank you for your kindness to us both while we were in the hospital.” I reached out to shake her hand.

“That's my job.” Misty flagged her hand in dismissal. “Damn, girl! Let me see that ring!” Seeing my unavoidable rock, she lifted my left hand. “Are you and Trayvon getting married?”

“Yes,” I said, a Kool-Aid smile across my face. “We're engaged.”

“Congratulations! Dang, that rock is heavy. And that diamond's almost blinding me. Whew! When's the big date?”

Before I could answer, my mouth flew wide open, and I put my hand over my heart. I gasped. I had seen Calico walk by the coffee shop in the shopping mall. I had heard he'd skipped town, and probably went back to Cali, but I knew this thing wasn't over between him and Touch. I was sure that was Calico, and I couldn't take any chances of him seeing me, so I ducked my head down in the booth where I sat.

“What's the matter?” Misty looked concerned.

“I think I just saw this dude, Calico.”

“Who's Calico?”

“The guy who shot Touch.”

“Oh my God. He hasn't been arrested yet?” Misty jumped in front of me in a protective manner as she scanned the area looking for Calico, and for a second, it looked like she was reaching for a gun on her hip.

“No,” I said, kind of thrown by her demeanor.

“We better get out of here.” Misty grabbed me by the arm. “Let's slip out the back door, and we can take my truck. I'm parked in the back. I'll bring you back to get your car later.”

I lowered my head and tiptoed, with Misty blocking my body, as she walked behind me. She led me to a black Tahoe with dark tint. She opened the passenger door for me, and I scooted down into the front seat.

Misty climbed in on the driver's side and hit the gas pedal. “How about if we go to my place and kick it for a while?”

I was surprised at just how cool Misty was. Sure, at the hospital she seemed like a down-to-earth chick, but I never would have expected us to click so easily.

I examined her from head to toe. She was dressed in D&G jeans, sneakers, and light jacket to match. She had her hair pulled up in a curly ponytail. Based on her attire alone, I would have to say, she was my type of female. Even so, I was still skeptical.

Generally speaking, I didn't trust women, and especially after how Sasha stabbed me in the back. But since I was already in the truck with her and she'd practically saved me from Calico, I figured what the hell.

“That's cool. You stay near here?”

“Yeah, not too far.”

And not too far was right because, after a few turns and ten minutes flat, we were pulling up to some new three-story town homes off Independence Boulevard.

“These are nice. I didn't even know they were back here,” I said as we pulled into Misty's two-car garage.

“Yeah, they're new. It's not much, but it's a cozy little spot, for me alone.” Misty walked in the basement of the house from the garage.

It was a huge room with a sitting area, bathroom, minibar, and another area set up with workout equipment. I followed her up the first set of steps where the living room, kitchen, and the master bedroom sat. Giving me a quick tour, she then led me up another set of steps, where another two bedrooms were.

“We can relax in the basement,” Misty said as she took off her coat and got comfortable.

We walked back to the basement, and Misty flipped on the flat-screen television that resembled the exact one I had at home, and handed me the remote.

“Watch whatever you like,” she said to me, and then headed to the bathroom.

I used that moment as an opportunity to call Poppo. I needed to know what was up with our little arrangement. That run-in earlier was a little too close for comfort.

I called Poppo's phone over and over again, but he didn't answer. Finally I decided to leave a voice message. “Man, what's the deal with Calico? I just saw that nigga at the mall,” I said, trying my best to whisper. “Are you gon' do this shit or what? 'Cause, on the real, it's gonna get done with or without you. So you gonna be a player in the game or a fucking water boy?” I knew the exact words to say to get in his head.

After completing my message, I rushed off the phone as Misty walked in.

“Can I make you a drink? I don't know about you, but I need a little something to relax my nerves.”

“Ummmm, do you have any wine?” I asked, to see what kind of level she was on.

“Sure. What would you like? White Zinfandel, Merlot, Pinot?”

“How about Moscato?” I said, knowing she probably never heard of it.

“Coming right up,” Misty said, surprising the hell out of me.

Damn! I guess me and this bitch really can roll
, I thought to myself, peeping her style.

After a few drinks we both were quite tipsy. We spent the next hour chatting like we were two old biddies.

“So, tell me, when is the big date? Are you aiming for this summer? If so, you only have a couple months to plan.”

“Well, I'm working on that. I had a late summer date set, but the owners of the historic mansion I'm trying to book aren't working with me.”

“For real? Girl, I got all kinds of hookups. Tell me what you trying to do. What wedding scene do you have in mind?”

I spent the next ten minutes telling Misty all about my fantasy wedding, detail by detail.

“Wow! That's sounds beautiful! Do you have a wedding planner?”

“Nope. I thought about contacting David Tutera though.”

We both laughed.

“Girl, save your money. I got your back. Wedding planning is my thing. Any event planning for that matter. I used to work for a huge event planning company before I moved to VA. When I got here I had my own company for a while. Then I got so involved in nursing, I let it go.”

“Oh my God! What a blessing. I would love to have you be my wedding planner. It must have been meant for us to meet.”

“That's destiny.”

Misty and I tapped wineglasses as if we were giving a toast and took another gulp of wine.

 

 

After I dropped Calico off at Norfolk International Airport, I checked my voice mail. Jewel had called me earlier, but I didn't want to answer, with Calico in my presence. I was sure she'd left a message.

I took the phone from my ear and looked at it. Listening to her message really pissed me off. It was like even this chick was taking me for a bitch. I wondered if I had the word
bitch
written on my fucking forehead, or if that shit Calico had was contagious.

I called Jewel back. My first instinct was to let that little bitch have it, but instead I decided to hear her out.

“Poppo, what the fuck is going on?” she said as soon as she picked up the phone. “You bitching up on me or what?”

Fuck this! This bitch got me fucked up
. Without saying a word, I straight hung up on her ass, not thinking twice about it. I thought I had the patience to tolerate the little attitude she was giving, but I guess I didn't.

When Jewel called right back, I put her in her place this time. “Yo,” I answered the phone, “you gon' have to bring that shit down a few notches, ma.”

“I'm saying . . . I thought we had a deal?”

“Jewel, I'm a man of my word. I got you, baby girl. This shit takes planning. Calm the fuck down. Have a drink or something. Let me do my shit. I gotta do it where there is no repercussions. But if this nigga makes you nervous, then you will be happy to know Calico is on his way back to California. He was only in VA to look for this bitch Sasha.”

“Sasha? What he want with her? Don't tell me he dealing with that sheisty bitch!” Jewel snapped.

“Nah, ma, not at all. That nigga want to deal with her on some whole other shit.” Then I suggested, “Why don't we meet up? I don't really do the phone thing.”

“Okay. I feel you. What about that little Mexican spot off of Newtown and Virginia Beach Boulevard.”

Jewel picked a real inconspicuous spot. For sure no one would have ever seen us up there.

“Cool. Meet you there in about an hour,” I told her. “When I see you, I'll get you up to speed on everything.”

“A'ight.” Jewel hung up the phone.

I had decided to meet up with Jewel not only because I wasn't into the phone thing, but I needed to see her face to face so I could read her. Deep inside, I still didn't quite trust that bitch, so I was proceeding with caution.

I knew exactly what my plans were. I was gonna use Sasha to lure Calico to Atlanta, and once I got him there, I was gonna let him have it. I needed to get that nigga in an unfamiliar area. A place where I knew he had no alliance. That would make my job all the easier. I had shit all mapped out, but I was planning to tell Jewel as little as possible, at least until I felt I could trust her a little more.

After leaving the airport, I made a quick stop by Mo Dean's to pick up a few dollars from Murdock, a nigga that owed me money from a little business we'd arranged a few days earlier. I spotted his car as soon as I pulled into the parking lot. Luckily he was sitting in his car when I pulled up. I parked right next to him. I wanted to get shit done quick so I could shoot up the boulevard and meet up with Jewel.

“What up, man?” I said through the car window.

“Ain't shit.”

Murdock got out of his car, and I unlocked the doors so he could hop in mine.

“Here you go.” He handed me a wad of money with rubber bands separating them.

“What's this?” I always asked niggas how much they were giving me off the jump, to prevent any confusion.

“Five grand for now?”

“Five grand for now? When am I gonna see the other ten?” I asked, a little aggravated that Murdock didn't have all of my loot.

“I got you, Poppo. I just need a little while longer.”

“Yeah, okay, nigga.” I placed the money in the glove box then locked it. “Do I need to count after you?” I asked, even though I was gonna count the money, regardless of what Murdock said.

“It's all there, man. Have I ever shorted you before, muthafucka?”

“Nah, nigga. You know better than that. Now get out my car. I got shit to do. Gotta make this paper!”

“Gone!”

Murdock hopped out of my car, and I began to back out of the parking spot. I watched as he walked up to the barbershop next to Mo Dean's and started talking to a couple of guys that stood out front. By the time I reached the end of the parking lot, the police was flooding the place. I busted a right turn onto Virginia Beach Boulevard and never looked back.

“Whew!” I let out a deep breath. I'd just made it. I ain't have shit on me but I wasn't trying to be in that fucking mix up. I turned up the radio and relaxed as I passed Booker T. Washington High School.

No sooner than I thought I was safe from danger, I heard sirens behind me. “Gotdamn!” I said to no one in particular. I pulled over and waited for the officer to come to the car. I watched from my side- and rearview mirrors as he walked up. Then I rolled down my window.

“License and registration please.”

“Can I ask why you pulled me over?” I asked as I gave the officer the information he'd asked for.

“I've been following you for some time. I got behind you after you pulled out of the shopping center on Church Street. You were swerving. Have you been drinking today, sir?”

“Yeah, right.” I laughed. I knew everything this cop was saying was bullshit. He just needed a reason to pull me over.

“Well, you don't seem drunk, and I don't smell any alcohol, but let me run your license. If everything comes back okay, I'll send you off with a warning.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, just trying to cooperate. It's when cats act all nervous or aggressive that cops harass their ass even more. I waited and waited for the officer to come back.

After about five minutes he walked back to the car. He had his right hand on his cuffs. After seeing that, I already knew what time it was.

“Could you step out of the car please?”

That was my confirmation. This nigga was about to take me to jail. “What am I being arrested for?” I asked as I stepped out of the car.

“Driving on a suspended license?”

“What?” I asked, knowing what this nigga was saying couldn't be true.

“You had a ticket a few months back that you never paid. It resulted in your license being suspended.”

“Nah, man. I paid that,” I explained. “I got the receipt in my wallet.”

“Save the excuses for the magistrate, man. Watch your head.” The officer put me in the backseat of his car.

I was pissed off as I took a quick ride down the street and around the corner to Norfolk City jail. This was truly some bullshit. I had paid that damn ticket and even had the receipt to prove it, and I still was going to jail on a damn suspended license.

When we drove through the gates, the officer escorted me inside the jail and sat me in the holding tank. I sat there patiently as I waited to speak to the magistrate. I shook my head in disgust as I looked at the drunk that sat beside me covered in vomit and piss. Then I glanced over at the prostitute that sat on the bench across from me, smacking on her gum like it was the last piece of Bubblicious on earth. She stared me in the face, constantly giving me the eye. I watched as the people who were getting released walked past me and out the back door. I could only wish I was in their shoes.

“Terrell Johnson,” an officer called out to me.

“Yes.”

“Right this way, man.”

I followed the officer to fingerprinting. Five minutes later my picture had been taken, and I was done with fingerprinting.

I had to see the magistrate next. As I sat waiting on him, I could see his office from the window. Through the crack of the door, I could see some fine-ass chick standing, her hair pulled up in a curly ponytail. She had that good hair, the kind that curled up when it got wet. She was dressed in D&G jeans that was tight to death and gripped her plump ass just right.

Minutes later, she was no longer in sight, and the magistrate was walking into the room. As soon as he was settled in front of me, I explained my situation. I told him that I'd paid my ticket and had the receipt to prove it. Come to find out, the reason my shit was suspended was because, after I paid the ticket to the court clerk, I was supposed to take the receipt to DMV and get my license reinstated. Lucky for me, the magistrate had mercy, and he let me out on a personal release bond, where no bondsman was needed, just my signature saying I will appear in court.

Thirty minutes later, I was one of those people getting released that I'd admired earlier.

I sat outside the precinct waiting on a cab so I could go pick my car up from the pound. Just my luck, the same chick I'd seen earlier came strolling out the precinct door.

“Hey, beautiful.” I couldn't let her pass by without saying a word.

“What's up?”

“What's a woman like you doing in a place like this?”

“Handling business. But I'm sure I could guess what a thug like you is doing in a place like this. Your second home, I bet.”

That bitch had just gone from beautiful to beast. At that time I realized what they said about a person being pretty until they open their mouth was true.

“You know what, ma . . . I'm not gonna even entertain that bullshit. You have a nice day.” I walked away when I noticed my cab had arrived.