BOMAW Vol. 10-12 (118 page)

His oldest daughter - Crystal Bella.

It was thoughts of her, and thoughts of trying to figure out the best way of keeping that sonofabitch, Victor Prescott away from her - that gave him the intensely mean look that marred his features, giving one that might view him, the idea that he was angry, mean - unapproachable.

"Why are you calling her?" He fumed low. It was the second call, the other had been before they left.

Shawn was worried that Sylvia might be right, that he might be having second thoughts. That he might, now, be trying to get her back. It wasn't such a hard thing to imagine, after all - she was an incredible young woman worth her weight in gold; which is why Shawn didn't want him anywhere near her, because as far as he was concerned, he wasn't good enough for her. As far as he was concerned, he was a worthless waste of space; an idiot and a fool for ever giving her up. At the time that everything unfolded between them, Shawn could understand his needing a breather to figure things out, to figure himself out. He was young, so naturally, when hit with the impact of their problems, a break was a good idea to get his shit together. However, what he'd done with that time off, had done nothing but piss Shawn off. He'd taken advantage of the breather, he'd taken advantage of Crystal. As Shawn sat, he grew more and more angry thinking about it, he didn't give a damn who the young man was - be it, his own son - Ben - or not - Victor; no one was going to treat her with the disrespect that Victor had shown thus far. Over the weeks of their separation, he'd basically discarded her as if she weren't worth the effort it would take to figure her out, and what was happening to her - as if he couldn't be bothered. As far as Shawn was concerned, he should have been there daily, talking with her, talking with them, seeing his sons, trying to come to a resolution on where they were going, and yes - trying with all his might to fix their problems to keep her, to keep his family.

Instead, he'd gone off, committing acts that were as much as saying, she's shit to me and I'll deal with her and my marriage when I'm ready; first I'm gonna play a bit, when I'm done playing and made her wait it out, sweat it out, wonder and cry it out, then I'll go back. Until then, you take how I treat you - because it's what you deserve.

That's how Shawn saw it, that's how he evaluated what had played out before him. He found it unacceptable.

To him, when you really loved a woman - you couldn't bear to live without her - treasured her above all else, you would do anything, battle all in heaven or hell to get her back, or, get back to her. That included any acts she might be committing that didn't make sense, which meant, something was wrong. Why wasn't he trying to find out what? That is what she deserved, no less! Victor lacked those vital attributes as far as Shawn was concerned. By his own actions, he'd disqualified himself. Now that Shawn saw himself as her father, he'd be damned if he would let any man/boy toy with her. He sat thinking about Victor's words to him, that she was not his daughter, that, what was happening between them was, none of his business.

"You've fucked yourself now boy'o - saying that shit to me! You have officially dissolved any possible idea of me accepting you back in my daughter's life! My fuckin' daughter you piece'o'shit!" He sizzled as he sat. He felt on fire from his words. She was his! Mundo, his son! Both of them - his children. By the grace of God, HE, found him some how worthy to have them, and have them he would. Especially Crystal; as close as he was to Mundo, it wasn't the same. Girls were special, he had his Angela, and now, his Crystal. Even if she and Ben didn't make it or end up together, which had better not be on account of anything he did - she, Crystal Bella, would be his daughter, still. He would take care of her, provide a place for her, for her boys, because that's the way it was for girls and their father. Just as it would always be for him with his Angela, so it would be, no less, concerning Crystal. Girls belonged with their father, until the right man came along, a man approved by their father and then, and only then, would he hand her over to him. To Shawn, to his thinking, that is why things were set up as they were; that is why the father walked his daughter down the aisle; that is why the father placed his daughter's hand in the hand of the man whom he approved, and that man, as far as Shawn was concerned, never would again, be - Victor Prescott! Not if he had anything to do with it.

To Shawn, this was not a little game that was played, nor was Crystal Bella, someone to be played.

Shawn felt that it had taken him a long time to figure out his role in life, what it was, he was to be. Concluding finally that there was no grand or noble privilege awaiting him, that he would inspire anything great to last or move vast numbers; no, his existence was to accomplish nothing of the sort. He, as a young man thought that would be the case with his art work, with his paintings - such success or greatness had never materialized.

Instead, what manifested in him was a need, for that, which his father had trained him up, and equipped him to stand and do, to be strong in the face of any adversity and protect his family with all of his might, that was it, and that he would do - that was his role, no more, no less, no running from it. The role in and of itself, had seemed futile and empty somehow, it had been his chore, as a young man. Then he'd run off, lived a certain way, until he had Angela. But even then, it had not been as absolute and fierce, or truly activated in him, to the extent of being irreversible until his return home - until he discovery of one Sylvia Lucinda Payne. She had activated it in him, to the degree that it took over his being. In the time spent with her, he came to realize where his place was to be, and why his father's training had been necessary, now he understood and no one would budge him from it. She, her children, now his children was his destiny, along with those born to him, Angela and the child she now carried. All that his father pounded into him, he fully accepted, and would not be told otherwise - regardless of the pain in his past - having endured it, lived through it, and understanding it - he was now stronger for it.

Due to Victor's actions, his thoughts flowed to Armundo Sr. He knew that he was spending too much thought, time and energy on this man, however the extent that he hated him would not let the feelings rest. To have had the privilege of being with Sylvia, giving her two incredible children and to have mistreated her, to have mistreated his own daughter as he did was beyond anything Shawn could possibly comprehend, the thought of which brought tears to his eyes sitting there reflecting on her pain as she had confided it to him. The things he knew he'd done to her were unforgivable and he should have been punished to the highest degree for mis-using and perverting the sacred bond and trust that a daughter should have with her father. For his actions - within Shawn's mind, he should not rest in peace.

He reflected back on the day that Angela had been born.

She had been so tiny, delicate, fragile and oh so precious. The sight of her, with her head full of pitch black hair, standing straight up off the top, and smoothed around it like the rarest silk, laying in the palm of his hand, had taken his breath away. Her little body, squirming and flinching, tiny arms and legs thrashing and flailing, as she cried out her displeasure from being snatched from a place of warmth and safety into a cold, huge and dangerous world. He held her, and knew - that it was his job, now that she was born, to protect her from this world, to keep her just as secure, as she had been in her mother's womb. That was his job. That was his role. Increased by the realization that Deidre had been frightened to death of handling her - of being a mother. There was a certain something that took over in him. It was in him to take over because from the time of a young boy, he had taken care of, his brothers and sisters. He'd seen to their needs as their older brother, he'd guarded them as no one could, because his father had aggressively forced that into him; holding Angela, he understood why.

Now - he had another daughter.

Yes, he accepted that she was a young woman, one trying to be strong, trying to do what was expected of her. But in his eyes, because she hadn't known, or been treated with the special handling and care of a true father, she was a little girl. Now, his little girl. She needed him - nothing had convinced him of that more than that day she called for him and he had to go to her. Finding her so overcome with pain and heartache, she had cried herself into pain that had immobilized her, he'd been forced to bring her home, carry her in, fix it, and yes, kiss it better as a father should.

While Shawn could not take away what her own father did to destroy her, he would be damned if Victor would get away with it, would be given license to do it again to her. He'd been given one chance with her, that was it! He would not be allowed to do what he did to her again, not as long as he lived, not if he could stop it.

The question was, if in fact he had decided that he wanted her back - where was Crystal's heart? Was she still inclined towards him? This was the curse of being a father over daughters - because once a daughter gave her heart to a man, all reasoning from the parent, all protection from her father, went by the wayside in order to go where her heart led.

Thus, there, the battle began.

Even at the risk, of having Crystal turn from him, no matter how that might hurt, Shawn felt he had to protect her from Victor. He didn't want things to go in that direction, but should they, well then - her wellbeing was his first priority, not how she perceived him.

When she was up - he would have a talk with her. Find out where she was concerning Victor and then toss in a few, 'What ifs' - Shawn realized he had to handle things carefully, because in his gut, he had a feeling that Victor Prescott, worm that he was, was going to attempt to wiggle his way back into her life ... for a brief moment, Shawn gave into a fantasy of gagging him, hog tying him, crating him up and then shipping him off to some war torn country, or the deepest jungles of Brazil. However, soon the fantasy ended, Shawn wiped his hand over his face, sitting forward now on the bench, intertwining the fingers of his hands before him, thinking about it, he glanced towards the heavens, speaking to the man upstairs, murmuring, "You know, it would be nice if I could be allocated a private lot, where I could toss, certain individuals, and they would just - disappear - like, my own little grave-yard - where it is my right to fill it up to about - ohhh, ten? Is that too much to ask?" Shawn waited for a sign, but knew one would not be coming to him, still and yet, the idea was appealing.

He allowed himself to smile finally, grinning at his own wicked desires, softening to the gentle expression that had won the heart of his soul-mate.

*

Chicago...

Lucas Martin Sr. sat at the kitchen table sipping his coffee, watching the morning news before he was to head off to his scrap yard, waiting for Lydia to come out of the bathroom to fix him breakfast. As she walked out to do just that, the doorbell rang.

Going through the locks on the door, she made her way down the stairs, parting the curtains to look across the empty vestibule at the guest arriving unannounced and almost swallowed her tongue to see, her son - Lucas Henry Jr. He was there, standing outside looking in at her. She hadn't seen or heard from him in years. Unlocking the bottom door, she walked out to the vestibule, unlocking it, allowing him entry, shocked, she greeted him.

"Lucas?"

"Yeah, hey mama."

"What? Where? I -..."

"Can I come in?"

She backed up nodding, "Of course you can, where have you been? I ain't heard from you in years."

"Yeah, well, I've been busy." He returned as if that was explanation enough.

She lead the way to her stairs, saying over her shoulder, "Too busy to at least call me? It's been so long."

"Can we get in the door first mama?" He asked, already showing signs of impatience.

"'Fore we do - there something you need to know." She moved beside him to lock her door, and then turned, leading the way back up.

"What is that?" He asked, following. She was a bit out of breath, her painful knees and arthritis always showed itself when up and down the stairs that early in the morning. Inhaling deep, she entered her apartment once more with him not far behind, "Your father here, he back home."

Just then Lucas Henry Sr. showed himself in the hallway from the kitchen, in clear sight of his son. Lydia stood a moment - nervous and unsure, holding the door open as the men froze from the sight of the other. "Come in let me close the door, Lucas."

"What is he doing here?" He bit the question.

"This his home, Lucas." Lydia answered closing the door behind him. Lucas Sr. came further into the room to face his hostile son.

"His home since when? He left it, remember?" His eyes rolled from his father to his mother.

"I pay for it, it's my home." Lucas Sr. answered before Lydia could. "Hello son, and how are you?"

Lucas Jr. shook his head, ignoring him glaring at his mother, "I can't believe you let him back in here! He took off, never made any effort towards us, to see us-..."

"You need to be talking to me about that, boy, not your mama."

"I'm not - your boy - old man, let's get that clear right now." His eyes snapped with his words.

"Lucas please, he here. He here to stay. You been gone a long time yourself - so to me - the way you actin' ain't no better."

"Come again? I didn't run off and leave my family!"

"I'm your family, Lucas. Your sister's your family, we ain't hear form you in years."

"Yeah well, I had my reasons. I didn't leave behind a wife - I didn't leave behind my sons, nor a daughter, like him." He gestured towards his father with the tilt of his head.

"No, you didn't - but le's be honest, I didn't make it easy for him to stay. No more than I did you I'm supposin', that include your brother and your sister."

"Mama, it's one thing for him to leave you, but what did we do to him? We were his children!"