Crazy Summer (14 page)

Rodney grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down, meeting his knee to the man’s nose. Blood poured from his face. Rodney knew he had an audience. His adrenaline was now rushing through his body; he was full of energy. He reached down, grabbed both of the guy’s ankles, and began pulling him toward the front door, leaving a trail of blood.

“You ain’t bad no more,” one female shouted.

When Rodney got him outside, he left him there and walked back inside. The women had already begun to clean up. Rodney knocked on the door and told Ann it was him. She opened the door with tears still in her eyes and her hands shaking nervously. Rodney drew her close, and she allowed her head to rest on his chest.

“I didn’t want you to get caught up in my problems,” she sobbed, her tears soaking through his t-shirt.

“Jus’ stop cryin’,” he whispered. “Everythang’s gonna be alright.”

Meanwhile, Danté and Summer had met up in the mall parking lot. He waited for her in a rented black Diamante that had South Carolina plates. They located each other by cell phone. She pulled her J-30 in the empty parking space beside him, got out, and quickly got in the passenger seat of the car he was driving. They leaned into one another and exchanged a friendly kiss. Her eyes were focused on his. The love was mutual between them.

Danté leaned over her and opened the glove compartment. In it was a small ring box. Already knowing what it was, Summer wasted no time flipping it open. A four-carat diamond set in platinum sparkled in her eyes. She almost lost her breath. Her eyes became teary, and she slowly looked at Danté.

“Do you wanna marry me?” he asked politely.

She covered her nose and mouth with her hand to hide her happiness. Her response was slow, but it was definitely a yes.

He placed the ring on her finger. “I wanted to do dis two years ago, but I wanted Rodney to be home to be the best man.”

“I love you,” she said as they hugged and held on to each other for ten minutes.

The guy that Rodney beat up had been in the hospital for three days. His jaw was broken in two places, his mouth wired, and his nose fractured. His entire face was swollen; he was fed liquids through IV tubes and sometimes sipped from a straw. The worst part of it all was when his family came to visit him and thought they had the wrong room. “Who was he fightin’, Mike Tyson?” one of his cousins asked.

Monte lay out on his back; his eyes were so puffy he could barely see through them. There were over seven family members inside the room, and they were staring at Monte in disbelief; he just didn’t look the same. A hand touched his forehead and then someone else grabbed his right hand.

“Who did dis to you?” a deep voice asked him.

Monte couldn’t see the face, but he recognized the voice as his Uncle Ray. Monte wouldn’t talk. Not because he didn’t want to, but because it was painful. A tear fell from his left eye. Ray looked around at the rest of the family and eyed everyone in the room. Catching the look he’d shared, they all exited and stood in the hallway. After the door closed, he focused his attention back on Monte. He held his hand like he did when he was a young baby. Ray cleared his throat and leaned down to Monte’s ear and whispered to him.

“Is dat understood?” 

Monte nodded his head to the last statement. He knew his uncle had a lot of pull all the way from New York to Miami. Ray had been to prison in the seventies himself. Word on the street is that he didn’t play any games. Even the family had heard rumors about him being a murderer, a contract killer, or something. But, he was a truck driver who stayed out of town most of the time. At least that’s what the family thought anyway. He never argued with anyone. He was just plain ole Uncle Ray to the family. Now he’d revealed his secret to his favorite nephew, the one who was a woman beater and the one who had got his ass whipped in front of several females. With his pride crushed, he would tell a lie to his uncle just to seek revenge. This would be a lie that would go to the grave with him.

Monte stared at the fuzzy image of his uncle. He noticed that Uncle Ray wore his salt and pepper hair brushed toward the back. Cherokee Indian ran in their family, and everyone had a good grade of hair. His eyes were sunk deep into his head, which made his forehead look bigger than its actual size. He never wore a beard or a mustache, and the only piece of jewelry he wore was a diamond ring on his left pinky finger. Monte remembered when he was young how he would always ask his uncle if he could wear it. And the answer had always been a simple no.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm,” Monte mumbled. He tried his damndest to speak, but the pain in his jaw just wouldn’t let him get his words.

“Shhh…” Uncle Ray said, while patting the back of his hand and slowly shaking his head.

*****

Danté carried Lil’ Danté on his back, basically around his neck. The twins were feeding the ducks in the pond at Pennington King Park. It was a nice day, and the beautiful Sunday evening brought damn near the whole Augusta outdoors.

Rodney stood next to Danté with his hands behind his back. He stared out across the park collecting his thoughts. He’d been home forty-three days now and was already worth close to one hundred grand. Danté had really showed him major love. Ann was staying with him now. Their relationship was alright, but he had been with two other women other than her. She didn’t care, though, because he always came home to her.

Rodney lit up a Newport, and a light wind carried the smoke away from Danté and his son. “I was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’,” he said to Danté.

“What’s dat?”

“I wanna go on a cruise,” Rodney said, then pulled on his cigarette and blew out the smoke.

Danté laughed. “I’ma fuck wit’ Cancun fo’ our honeymoon.”

“Shiiid,” Rodney said. “I’m goin’, too.”

“Don’t say dat, Uncle Rodney,” Lil’ Danté said in a cheerful voice.

Rodney looked at his nephew. He had almost forgotten he was there. “You didn’t hear dat,” he told him.

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.” Rodney flicked his cigarette butt about three feet away, grabbed Lil’ Danté up, and held him high above his head.

“Help me, Daddy,” he yelled, laughing.

Rodney pulled him in and began tickling him. Out of nowhere, the twins rushed him. They each took a leg and tried to help their younger brother. Rodney passed Danté his son and then wrestled both of the twins to the ground, where they rolled around playfully in the grass. This was good living for Rodney. He was well off and even thinking about having kids himself.

Later that night, Danté and Rodney exited the front entrance of a club called Escape on Deans Bridge Road. The parking lot was full, and cars crept every which way. Music blared from sound systems, and horns blew. One car after another, drivers flashed their high beams trying to fight the traffic.

Danté and Rodney’s cars were parked side by side, both of them backed in to the space. They stopped in front of Danté’s Lexus. Both men were tipsy. Rodney couldn’t really handle his liquor, but he was able to drive. His cell phone rang, but the music coming from a passing Suburban had drowned out the ringtone. They bobbed their heads to Outkast until the SUV had made it pass them. No more than twelve seconds later a shot rang out…then another and another. Then three more. Danté heard the first two. Rodney saw him go down, but he didn’t know what happened because he fell, also, his shirt soaked with blood.

“Bitch,” was the last word to escape the lips of Rodney’s now lifeless body.

Danté could see himself walking down the aisle with Summer, his future wife. It was over now; he died three minutes after Rodney and didn’t even have a clue why. Their wedding was four days away. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t make it, and Rodney? Rodney had been a good brother to Summer. The obituary in the papers would say the two men were survived by this person and that person, but the majority of the pain and suffering would be felt by their closest loved one…Summer.

It was 3:35 a.m. when Summer received a call from a homicide detective. He told her what had happened, but didn’t go into details. The names were given to her, but she didn’t believe it. In fact, she thought somebody might have been playing some sort of cruel joke.

“I need you to come identify the bodies,” he told her.

When he said that, she started to take the detective seriously. Her heart began to race, and her hands were shaking like a leaf on a tree. She switched on the lamp that was on the nightstand. Lil’ Danté was sleeping next to her, but the stirring woke him. He looked up at his mother, his eyes stretched open, but he didn’t say anything.

Summer cleared her throat and knocked the covers completely off of her. Her bare feet slipped into a fuzzy pair of bedroom shoes.

“Are you there, Miss?” the detective asked.

“Where do I need to go?”

“University Hospital,” he replied. “Do you know where it is?”

Her answer came slow, but she did answer him. After she hung up, she quickly called Ann and told her everything the detective had told her. Summer heard her break down instantly. Then she told her to meet her at University Hospital. After ending the call, Summer dressed quickly, then gathered all three of her kids up and left.

  Downtown at University Hospital, Ann stayed with the kids in a waiting room with comfortable chairs and a color television, while Summer was escorted down a long corridor by the same detective who she had spoken to earlier. He turned left and went into the second door on the right. Summer was on his heels. Her heart felt as if it were about to jump out of her chest. The room they entered smelled funny to her. It was bright, and the temperature felt like it was ten below zero.

She hugged herself while being escorted to two gurneys that were side by side with lumps that had to be dead bodies underneath white sheets. The detective gave her a quick look first before removing the first sheet. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes at the same time. As he slowly flipped the sheet back off the body, she opened her eyes and saw Danté’s face. A lump formed in her throat, and tears filled her eyes.

The detective turned and removed the sheet from Rodney’s face. He died mad, of course; the expression was all over his face. Summer stood there in shock for a moment, until finally she broke down.

It was a double funeral and probably the largest one that Augusta had seen in years. Summer was dressed in black from head to toe, and so were her mother and Ann. They rode together in the funeral home limo. The twins and Lil’ Danté were dressed in tuxedos. The three of them rode in silence. Lil’ Danté rode on Summer’s lap. He was too young to know what was going on. The twins knew they’d lost their stepfather and uncle. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. They loved Danté unconditionally and Rodney just as much.

Summer was silent the entire trip. Her eyes were puffy and slightly red, and her entire body felt numb. She had her own problems, and there were other issues she would have to deal with. Her heart ached, and every time she thought about her brother and fiancé she’d break down and cry. The four-carat ring that Danté had bought her was still on her finger. She touched it every now and then as a reminder of his love. She would never get rid of it.