Death By A HoneyBee (32 page)

   
 
“Left him?”
 
Tellie was indignant.
 
“That’s what everybody says who has never been faced with a woman beater.
 
I did leave him.
 
See what it got me.”
 
She pulled up her sweater.
 
There were faded scars on the inside of her arms, looking like someone had carved a face on a pumpkin.
 
“I ran away with Taffy when she was eight.
 
It took him over a year, but he tracked me all the way up in Seattle, where I was working as a waitress.”
 
She shook her arm at me.
 
“This was my punishment.
 
He told me while I was lying in my own blood, that the next time he would take it out on Taffy.”
 

     
“Why didn’t you go to the police, the women’s shelter, something other than murder?”

    
Tellie laughed out loud.
 
“What do you think would have happened when he got out on bail and that is, if he got a judge who took my situation seriously?
 
How many women are killed each year in this country by angry estranged husbands?
 
Just in this city alone?”

    
“Too many,” I agreed.

    
“Do you think an EPO is any protection?
 
It’s a crummy piece of paper.
 
Unless a battered woman has the money to hire a bodyguard, she’s a sitting duck.
 
You know it.
 

    
“The law is no use to women like me.
 
The law doesn’t protect women like me.
 
It’s all in the man’s favor.
 
And don’t quote me the law, Josiah.
 
The law states that I can only defend myself while I am being attacked.
 
Why should I wait until I am the most vulnerable?
 
Even at Richard’s weakest, he was stronger than me.
 
He liked to sucker punch.
 
Most of the time, the blows came so fast I didn’t have time to move out

of the way.
 
You can call the police but I don’t deserve to go to jail.
 
I don’t deserve one hour of punishment.
 
Richard got what was coming to him.”

     
Her tired bloodshot eyes pleaded with me.
 
“With this money, we can have a new start.
 
I can live without fear.
 
It is up to you, Josiah.
 
Let me go.
 
Please.”

  
  
“You murdered a man!
 
You tried to frame me for his death.
 
Don’t you have any remorse?” I cried.

 
    
“It was the only way out.
 
You know that if I left him, he would have come for me. You know there would have been more violence.
 
Every time he went into a rage, I would think – he’s going to kill me today.
 
I lived with death every day, then I decided I had to get him first before I tried to leave him again.
 
I just didn’t want to take a chance on it being me that was dead.”
 
Tellie pleaded, “Please.
 
Let me live my life in peace and take care of my daughter.
 
You know what it is like to love a child, wanting only the best for your baby. What will happen to Taffy if I am not around to guide her?
 
You saw how that crazy nurse talked her into the stupidest things.”

 
   
“Shut up,” I demanded.
 
“Don’t say that.
 
What you did was wrong.”
 
                                  

    
But was it justifiable?
 
The problem was I do believe in justice . . . but sometimes justice doesn’t come from a courtroom.
 

    
Shaneika called me later that afternoon, saying she wanted to come over.
 
I gave her the new gate code, as I changed it every few days.
 
It wasn’t long before her car pulled up.
 
I was out by the pool drinking sweet tea spiked with lots of vodka and chewing on a cigar.
 
Miles Davis’
Kind Of Blue
was playing.
 
His was the best music to get drunk by.

  
  
She plopped heavily into a lounge chair and poured herself a drink.
 
“Wheee, that is strong!” Shaneika exclaimed.

   
 
I pulled a wet towel from my eyes.
 
“Has anyone ever told you that you are a very loud person?”

   
 
“Is that Coltrane playing?”

   
 
“Davis.
  
Shhhh.
 
You’re destroying the mood.”

   
 
“Why do you smoke those filthy cigars when you have asthma?”

   
 
“Self destructive, I suppose.”
 
I took a long pull.

     
“I guess that’s better than chewing tobacco.
 
Whose Prius is outside?”

   
 
“Mine.”

   
 
“Yours?”

   
 
“A friend gave it to me.”

   
 
“That is highly unlikely.
 
You don’t have any friends.”

     
“Funny.”
   

 
    
“It couldn’t have been the check for the Mercedes.
 
I know for a fact that check was only around six thousand dollars.”

   
 
“I told you a friend gave it to me.”

   
 
“Hmmm, okay, let’s leave it at that.”
 
Shaneika took another sip.
 
“Are you sober enough to talk business?”

 
   
“Just barely.”
 

  
  
“I’ve got a buyer for those ten acres.”
 

   
 
I sat up in my chair.
 
“So soon?”

 
    
“Yep, but the price is too high.”
                                                                                                

     
“Non-negotiable, like I said.”

   
 
“Won’t come down on the price?”

  
  
“Nope.”

   
 
“That could pose a problem.”
      

   
 
“Tell them to take it or leave it.
  
Who is it?”

   
 
“Me.”

     
“You?”

   
 
“Yeah, me.
 
Got a problem with that?”
 

  
  
“Ya gwonna bwuild a house?”
 
My words were starting to slur.

 
   
“I’m going to buy a racehorse.
 
That is my dream.
 
My passion.
 
I never told you that my grandfather worked for Calumet Farm years ago.
 
He used to help train all those great champions. He’d take me to work with him, let me feed those horses, brush them.
 
Now I am going have one of my own.”
 

    
“Ten acres ain’t gonna to do it.”
   

    
“That is why you are going to let my horse graze on the rest of your property for free.”

    
“Now wait . . . a min . . . ute.”
 
I struggled to find words to express my indignation.
 
My tongue felt like a big fish flopping in my mouth.

    
“Look, you’ve got llamas, worn out horses, and weird-looking sheep running around.
 
My horse needs the extra pastureland and isn’t going to bother one of your little pets.”

 
   
My mind cleared a little.
 
“I was thinking of the liability.
 
I don’t want to be responsible if your horse stumbles in a gopher hole.”
 

    
“I have taken care of all that in a little document which you are going to sign.”
 

    
“I don’t know.”

    
“I can’t afford a big outfit.
 
Horse farms that come on the market are way out of my reach but you have all this land here.
 
I’ll buy ten acres.
 
I will replace those rundown fences but you have to let me use some of your land for free and also that rickety old barn.
 
I need a place to put all my tack and equipment.
 
This is a win-win situation.
 
You are land rich but cash poor.
 
I am cash rich but land poor.
 
We are going to do some horse trading – that’s all.”
 

    
I winced at the pun.
       

    
Shaneika’s eyes became two large moons with twin hazel lakes.
 
“Look, I will make you so liability free that no one can take a penny from you even if they squeezed your big titties.”

    
“The land is raw.
 
How are you going to train a Thoroughbred here with no track, no nothing?”

    
She threw the document on the table.
 
“Aren’t you tired of being a victim, wallowing in poverty like it’s a badge of honor?
 
Want to play beekeeper?
 
Fine, but don’t act like you are poor when you have all of this.”
 
She waved at the house.
 
“Sell some paintings.
 
Buy some new clothes, get your hair done and get on with it.
 
You’re not the only woman to have her heart broken by some man.”
       

    
I
was
tired of being poor.
 
I
was
tired of wallowing in self-pity.
 
If Tellie had the courage to make a new life, so did I.
 
“I’ll sign tomorrow after I read it.
 
I don’t want to do it drunk. And I want a percentage of any purses.”

    
“The only way you are going to get a piece of the action is if you help pay the bills for my horses.”

    
“Horses!
 
How did we get from one horse to several.”
 
I shook my head.
 
“You are using my pastures for free, using my water, which is free, and having 24/7 guards when you are not here.
 
Matt plans to live permanently in the cabana, and I will be here most of the time.”
  

    
“Okay, two percent of the purse plus tickets to the owner’s box.”

    
“I also want to go to the horsey-set parties.”