"A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur and dreaming is nursed in darkness" - Jean Genet
Midlands, Texas - Saturday 23rd June 2018 @ 8:30 am
I had a very sleepless night. The news correspondent's words still echoing around my head.
"Oh my God, Beth! What are you going to do?" Anna and I are sitting on my bed looking at each other. Worried looks are etched on our faces.
"Someone tried to kill him! He could be dead for all we know. There's no one we could even call to talk too." She is rambling; panicked. She jumps up and starts pacing around the room.
"Calm down Anna-Leah, please. I cannot breathe with all your energy." Placing a hand on my chest I press down hard trying to stop my heart from bursting through.
"Am so sorry Beth, so sorry." She grabs my hand and crushes my fingers together. Tears are silently falling from my eyes.
Soon as the news bulletin was over, we made a very lame excuse and rushed away to my bedroom. That was last night, I didn't even say goodnight to Aléjandro and knowing him he would have worried the entire night. A set of rapidly-fired raps on the door jumps us out of our stupor. Speak of the devil.
"Isabetha, honey, are you okay in there? What's going on? Can I come in?" Questions are jumbled together (no, I am not okay, my life is falling apart again and yes, you can come in) I answer his last question, first.
"Alé come in"
The door flies open and he looks sternly at us, "something is up, I can feel it and you've been crying. Talk to me baby sis, please?"
All my conflicting feelings rush to the surface. God! Do I tell him and how much should I reveal. Obviously nothing about my real parentage - that will definitely kill him. So here goes nothing.
"Alé...you are going to be an uncle."
"Oh my God! Are you kidding me right now?!" He lifts me up and spins me around the room. He is ecstatic, but I am not. My mood is blue and finally, he realizes it.
"Okay, not the reaction I was hoping for. How is it that you are not over the moon right now?"
"Well remember the new report last night about that guy getting shot in London?"
"Yeah...the infamous Canaan Demetrius Black III, the world's most eligible bachelor. Men love to hate him...and women fantasize about being his wife...what about him?"
"He's the father." Aléjandro eyes grow larger and larger in his head until they resemble tiny saucers.
"Repeat that again, sis"
"He's the father of my unborn baby"
"¡Ay caramba! Does Aunty Monica know?"
"Are you fucking kidding me right now Aléjandro? You want me to tell her and naturally, she will blab to bitchzilla! She is always looking down her fake ass nose at me! What a wonderful big sister she is! You should have eaten her in mother's womb!"
"Tranquila, chica" Alé rapidly reverts to Spanish when I get to be too much to handle. "Forget about it, okay. No telling Aunty Monica or Adelina, okay. What about Abuela Isabel, you're surely telling her"
"No One Aléjandro. ABSOLUTELY no one is to know, okay! And if your big mouth tells I will find out and hunt you down and hurt you!"
"Okay, okay, peace" His hands fly up in surrender. "You win, no one will find out, I swear on Abuelo Nico's grave"
Damn it to hell Alé, you had to have mentioned his name of all people. You could have said daddy, at this point even saying mother's name would have been so much better.
"Are you going to try to contact his family?" Anna-Leah and I both take a long look at him.
I will not drop that bomb on complete strangers.
"I will wait to see if he pulls through. If he does not, well maybe then I will consider speaking to his parents." I am adamant in my decision.
Meanwhile at Angel's Pass Memorial Hospital Room 3502, London
I am humming, no, am buzzing with excitement. Things are looking up again. Second is quietly lying down on the bed. Well, he has no other choice because he is bonded and gagged; served up, like the turkey he is.
"Okay Second, let's get started." I remove the fabled syringe and shake it in front of his old tired face.
"You already know what this is. And you already have deduced what is doing to happen, so let me give you a visual, it will be excruciatingly painful; burning up your veins as it travels to your heart. But in a minute, two minutes, tops, you will be dead...cardiac arrest. Poetic isn't it, you squeezed me out of my life and now I get to squeeze the life out of your heart."
Slowly, I inject the contents of the syringe into his arm and taking a seat, watch him as he starts to squirm and rile violently on the bed. The veins in his neck protruding and ugly, he is screaming against his gag, eyes bulging and red.
I am in the best chair at the movies-now showing, 'The Death of Canaan Demetrius Black II' and it is a blockbuster.
Abruptly it is over. He is still; his eyes are unfocused and unblinking. I lean in closer; his chest is not moving. I get in even closer and put my ear to his mouth. There is nothing to be heard.
I am disappointed, painfully disappointed in his performance.
I need more