Keyshia and Clyde (20 page)

Life wasn't worth living that much anyway. She touched her stomach once again and smiled and thought about what could have been. But then she stopped such intrusive thoughts from entering her mind. She had to be strong, strong enough for the both of them, she thought. She closed her eyes again and processed combat mode, the will to survive, the art of war. There it was: A burst of adrenaline raced through her bloodstream. Instinctively, her chest began to heave, her teeth began to grind, nose began to flare, palms began to sweat. She was ready. Suddenly, and without haste, she let go of the porcelain sink and stormed out the bathroom door.

She was ready to die!

Though he already knew the verdict, Clyde had but one thing on his mind at that point: Where was Keyshia?

He thought back to the very first time he'd seen her beautiful face. He couldn't stand her ass—but as fate has it, when love calls, love calls. There's nothing you can do. You can duck and hide, but there is no escaping it; when love comes knocking on your door, you got to let it in. Well, did Keyshia knock! She kicked down the whole fucking door, and he loved the shit out of her for that!

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge as he sat imposingly and grim-faced upon his bench.

“Yes, Your Honor, we have,” stated the jury's forewoman. An overwhelming fear came over Clyde at that moment. Not fear of being found guilty, but fear of having his plan dissolve before his eyes.
Where was Keyshia?
He turned and eyed the door again, causing the burly court officer behind him to turn and look at the door also. Be cool, he thought, and tried to make it look as if he were staring at his two family members in the benches behind him. His palms began to sweat as he questioned the letter that he'd sent her.

Suddenly, the door to the courtroom opened, and there she was. A smile came across Clyde's face as he watched his girl, his woman, his world, enter the courtroom. It was as if he could read her mind just by the expression she had on her face. She was ready, and he knew it. Body language.

“Have the jurors come to a unanimous decision?”

“Yes, Your Honor, we have.”

Clyde could not hear the proceedings going on in front of him because his attention was on his baby.

He was still enthralled by her beautiful face. Tunnel vision set in. He always knew it, but he realized even more now how fortunate he was to have found her and to know what true love felt like in his brief lifetime. Something that had remained elusive since his mother was taken away from him when he was little. This beautiful woman in a brief and short period had given him a lifetime of love. A tear fell from his eyes. He couldn't help but chuckle at how chunky his normally ultrathin woman was getting. She must be stuffing herself because she's missing me, he thought. He loved the way her boots clicked with each step that she took on the marble floors. She seemed to glide with each determined step toward the front of the courtroom. Body language.

Oblivious to Clyde, the jury forewoman stood to give the judge the verdict, but Clyde was too fixated on Keyshia. He hadn't seen Keyshia since their visit so many months ago, and he missed her dearly.

Then his head turned like a curious K-9 would when he noticed how wide her hips had gotten. As she got closer, and for the first time, he noticed how big her normally small breasts had gotten.

With great, great surprise, he looked at her hard, protruding stomach, wide and round. He began to frown slightly. Keyshia was so close now that he could see the red in her eyes, the flaring of her nostrils, and the grinding jaw. He blinked rapidly as it all started to become surreal, as it finally began to register.

Oh shit, is Keyshia pregnant?
Body language.

“In the case of robbery, what has the jury found?”

He watched in horror as Keyshia reached inside her blazer jacket with both hands.

“We find the defendant, Clyde Barker . . .”

“Oh, shit,” he stammered.

“Guilty!”

As if everything were a demented nightmare, he watched Keyshia unbuckle her coat with vengeance in her eyes.

Clyde rose to his feet and yelled, “Nooooooo!” as Keyshia reached for the weapons. He watched the court officer turn around and reach for his weapon. Clyde felt helpless, and all he could do was yell, “Your mind is your nine! Your mind is your nine!” But Keyshia could not hear him. It was too late!

“No!”
he screamed.

Out of nowhere, Ceasar came rushing down the aisle and grabbed Keyshia tightly before she could pull out her weapons. By then the officers had Clyde on the ground and their weapons pointed at Keyshia, who was struggling to be released from Ceasar's clutches. The entire court had hit the floor, including the judge and jury, as pandemonium filled the room!

“It's okay, Keyshia!” Clyde yelled as the officer put his knee in Clyde's back. “I'm okay, baby.”

Keyshia suddenly lost her bluster, and when she did the pain in her body became excruciating. “Oh, God! I'm sorry, Clyde, I'm sorry!” she repeated. She was barely able to stand. Ceasar held her unsteadily in his arms, and that's when he noticed streams of liquid flowing down her legs. The officers pointed their weapons at them and yelled for them both to get on the ground.

“She's going into labor,” Ceasar explained. “Her water burst. She's got to get to the hospital!”

The two officers, still on edge, eyed them suspiciously. After noticing a puddle of liquid underneath Keyshia, they put their weapons away and one rushed to the telephone as the other helped Keyshia to one of the benches. Keyshia screamed in pain as they laid her on the hard bench. The jurors and judge finally stood, sure that they were out of danger as word of the woman in labor spread fast.

Keyshia's eyes were bloodshot as she pulled Ceasar close to her face and whispered through clenched teeth, “I got two guns on me.”

Ceasar turned around and saw one of the officers standing over them and yelled, “Why are you still standing here? My sister is about to have a baby! Go find a doctor!” Between the panic and Ceasar's authoritative tone, the officer scampered out of the courtroom to find help. Keyshia quickly undid the guns, and Ceasar stuffed them in his coat.

“Oh God!” she yelled as her eyes widened. “Ceasar, help me. I feel the baby coming!”

Ceasar stood up and yelled to anyone who could hear, “Somebody help, she's having the baby right now!”

Suddenly, one of the female jurors jumped out of the jury box and yelled, “Judge, I'm a registered nurse!” The judge, who was caught up in the excitement, nodded for her to aid Keyshia. The lady sprang into action and asked for help getting Keyshia to the floor.

The two officers pulled Clyde, who was now in handcuffs, onto his feet and were taking him out of the courtroom, but he pleaded, “Please, that's my girl. Please, don't take me away yet. I won't do nothing. I just want to see that my girl is all right.” He looked both officers in the eyes as he begged someone for the first time in his life, “Please, man.”

The officers felt sympathy for him and looked toward the judge, who had heard Clyde's plea and granted him permission to stay. Clyde, as well as everyone else in the room, was on edge as they all watched the party on the floor working intently. Suddenly, the gurgling sound of a baby's cry filled the courtroom. Everyone began to breathe easier and applauded. Even the judge felt an overwhelming sense of relief that everything had worked out. Clyde was near tears and was still worried about Keyshia. The paramedics arrived and quickly placed Keyshia and her newborn on the stretcher. As they lifted her and the baby, who was now wrapped securely in a blanket, she yelled to them that she didn't want to leave until the baby's father could see his child. The jurors, the office staff, and even the normally robotic officers looked toward the judge for approval.

With all eyes upon him, the judge thought back to how he'd felt when his first child was born over thirty years ago. He nodded and said, “Let the man see his newborn child.” Once again the courtroom erupted in applause as the paramedics wheeled Keyshia and the baby forward. The court officers removed the handcuffs from Clyde as he walked timidly toward Keyshia and the baby.

Crying, Keyshia said, “Clyde, meet your son . . . Clyde Junior.”

Clyde couldn't believe his eyes; he blinked rapidly as he tried to focus on his boy, whom she cradled in her arms. He kissed her and told her he loved her. Keyshia gestured for Clyde to hold him, but Clyde was too afraid. He looked up at the judge, who said, “Go ahead, son, hold your baby.”

Clyde smiled and picked up his son with the gentleness of a lamb and cradled him in his arms. The world suddenly felt brand-new to Clyde as the heavens began to open up and blessings rained down upon him. He had a strong urge to live as he caressed his son in his arms and whispered in his little ear, “I will always be there for you, Clyde.”

Chapter 34
_______________

Clyde Barker Jr. was a beautiful and healthy six-pound-five-ounce baby boy. Ceasar was so thrilled with the birth of his nephew that one would have thought he was the father, the way he came to the hospital every day and fussed over him. Keyshia had to stay in the hospital for over a week because she had lost a lot of blood during the birth. By the time she was due to be released, Ceasar insisted that she and the baby stay with him in his two-bedroom apartment. Uncomfortable with his generous offer, Keyshia declined. Ceasar knew that she didn't have a chance on earth to provide his nephew with decent housing, clothing, and food, unless she got on public assistance, and that would take time. In overcrowded New York City, she would not be able to get an apartment until welfare found her and the baby one in the housing projects. She might have to go through the shelter system and wait months, maybe years, until she qualified and received section 8 vouchers to aid with the rent. Ceasar refused to take no for an answer. He knew Keyshia was proud, so he told her that he would be giving the room to his nephew, but he needed someone there to take care of him. Keyshia smiled and got his point and said that she would, but she would contribute to the household all the same when the baby got old enough and she could find a job and pay her way. Ceasar smiled and said:

“Okay, you pay your share and help me with the rent 'cause I could barely pay it by myself now; my new job as a teller at a credit union doesn't pay as much as my position at the bank. In the meantime, you can pay your way by doing chores around the house.”

Keyshia nodded and said, “Well, I think that's pretty steep, but I think you got yourself a couple of roommates.” She and Ceasar hugged.

During the two weeks that Clyde awaited his sentencing hearing, he had a one-hundred-eighty-degree change in attitude. Having seen and touched his child—his son—made a world of difference. He now had a purpose. He wanted to give his son something he never recalled having—a father. If Clyde had known that Keyshia was pregnant, he would have given serious thought to the ten years that they offered him. Now he was guaranteed a minimum of twenty years. But the sting was not as bad because his baby boy gave him comfort and strength.

Keyshia, Ceasar, and the baby were in the courtroom the day of Clyde's sentencing. They had prayed the night before in hopes of a modern-day miracle.

“Will the defendant rise,” said the grim-faced judge.

“Clyde Barker, you were tried and found guilty by a jury of your peers. You are hereby sentenced to twenty years in federal prison.”

Keyshia sobbed and shook her head, unable to believe what was happening. Clyde quickly turned around and stood tall to let Keyshia know that he was strong, but his weary eyes told another story.

To make matters worse, Clyde was remanded to Leaven-worth, a federal penitentiary located in Kansas, diminishing all Keyshia's hopes of having regular visits so he could get to know his son. Keyshia and Ceasar stood and watched the officers handcuff Clyde. With tears in his eyes for his baby brother, Ceasar hugged Keyshia and nodded and yelled to Clyde that his family would be taken care of and not to worry.

Life for Keyshia would never again be the same.

For weeks, Keyshia remained locked in her room, coming out only to fix the baby's formula or give him a bath. Ceasar knew that if Keyshia didn't snap out of her funk, she would risk losing her sanity and her will to live. He knew firsthand about living in misery because he and his brothers had lived like that for most of their young lives. He didn't want his nephew to grow up under the same circumstances. So after nearly a month of her seclusion and solitude, Ceasar finally decided to confront Keyshia and knocked on her door.

“Keyshia, can I come in?” He heard the bed squeak, but she did not respond. So he knocked again. “Keyshia, it's Ceasar, I'd like to come in.”

He heard Keyshia cough, and then she said, “Come in.”

Ceasar turned the knob slowly and peeked in. “You dressed?”

Keyshia sat up and cleared her throat and said yes. It was dark inside the room, and if it weren't for the moonlight coming through the window, it would have been impossible to see her.

“How's the baby?” he asked as he eased into the room and over to the bassinet where the baby slept.

She cleared her throat again and said, “He's good. His appetite is picking up. He had six bottles today already.”

Ceasar nodded his approval. He looked down at Keyshia, and even though the room was pitch-black, he could still see that she was a mess. Her hair was wild and frayed, and her eyes looked as if they were sucked back into her sockets. And then there was her body. Even in the darkness Ceasar could see that she was nothing more than skin and bones. He was sure she was under one hundred pounds, and he was devastated and could no longer hide his dissatisfaction with her worrying herself to death.

“Keyshia,” he said as his voice cracked. “Baby, you can't keep going on like this, staying in your room and not eating.” Keyshia grew conscious of her body and pulled the sheets over her as he talked. He sat at the edge of the bed and continued in a soft, gentle tone. “I miss Clyde like you do, but I know that I got to live, and you got to live and survive without him.” He stared at her, hoping he would get through.

“If you don't find a reason to live, then all you're going to do is worry yourself to death, and that won't do Clyde or the baby any good.” He paused and edged closer to her and rubbed her hand. “I'm going to tell you this story. It's called ‘Footprints in the Sand,' about a man who lost hope but had the courage to go on. One day this man was lost in the desert and was walking miles and miles with no water and no hope. Anyway, it was like a hundred and twenty degrees in the shade, but he kept walking and walking. After a day or so, he became weak from the lack of water and was ready to pass out, but he knew if he did, he would die, so he called out to God for help. He looked up toward the beaming sun and called out and said, ‘God, please help me, I'm not sure if I can make it any longer and I need Your help.' Then suddenly, a pair of footprints appeared next to him, and he knew it was God guiding him in the right direction, giving him the will to go farther. So after a day or two of walking, he noticed that he no longer saw two sets of footprints in the sand, only one, and he became angry with God. This went on for days, and then finally, over the horizon, when he was sure he could no longer make it, he saw a community where people dwelled and knew that he'd made it. And just then, the second pair of footprints appeared again, and he yelled out to God his displeasure, ‘God, You said that You would never leave me when I needed You most, but when I was in the desert almost dying, You left me, 'cause I didn't see Your footprints anymore.' God spoke and said, ‘Son, I never left you. When you saw one set of footprints in the sand, that was me carrying you.' ”

Ceasar looked at Keyshia and said real serious, “Keyshia, when you think you have no more hope, call on God and ask Him for hope, ask Him to give you a purpose to go on, and He will carry you.” Keyshia stared at him, smitten by his words of wisdom. Ceasar knew he had grown to love Keyshia because of how much she loved his brother. He gave her a warm embrace and said good night.

Keyshia sat up the remainder of that night thinking about all that Ceasar had said. Then suddenly, Clyde's words popped into her mind,and she repeated, “My mind is my nine.” She repeated these words aloud for the rest of the morning until they took hold of her. Then just like that, she had a purpose, a reason to move on and live.

That morning, when Ceasar got up to go to work, he was surprised to smell bacon. When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Keyshia standing over the stove, cooking. He looked at the table and saw it was set with two plates with scrambled eggs, biscuits, and orange juice.

Ceasar smiled and said, “What is going on here? Looks like somebody rose from the dead.”

“Yeah, you were right about me isolating myself, it ain't good for me or the baby. Sit down and let me serve you some breakfast,” said Keyshia as she brought the plate of bacon to the table.

Ceasar was impressed and said with a mouth full of food, “Damn, Keyshia! I didn't know you knew how to burn.”

Keyshia smiled. “Boy, you didn't know? Where you think I'm from?”

He nodded and said, “I know that's right,” as he ate the last bit of food on his plate.

“Seconds?” Keyshia asked. “I made more than enough.” Before he could answer, she was already putting more food on his plate.

As they ate, Keyshia said, “Ceasar, can I ask you a question?”

He stopped chewing and wiped his mouth. “You know you can ask me anything,” he told her.

Keyshia tilted her head to the side, searching for the right words to say. “When you spoke to Clyde last week, how did he sound to you? What did y'all talk about?”

Ceasar cleared his throat and thought back. “We talked mainly about you and the baby.” He shrugged and added, “He was just concerned about y'all two being all right. He thanked me for taking y'all in and said that he owes me. I told him he doesn't owe me anything, but to take care of himself because we will be all right. That's mainly it.”

“Did he sound sad or depressed or anything like that?”

Ceasar frowned and said, “No. As a matter of fact, he didn't even sound like he was locked up. He sounds more like a person who was on vacation or something.”

Keyshia nodded. “That's exactly how he sounded to me. He does that so he can relieve us from worrying, but he is really miserable. I know Clyde.” Ceasar knew she was right.

“Like with y'all father,” Keyshia pointed out. “You never would have imagined that Clyde harbored so much deep feelings of hate towards your father and that he dreamed for years about wanting to kill him, would you?”

Ceasar shook his head. “No. In a million years I would have never imagined that because we never talked to him about it. Clyde never allowed us to know if he was in pain his whole life. So he was always a walking time bomb waiting to explode. He always would talk and act like everything was okay, and we had no choice but to believe him.”

“Ceasar, we got to do something to get him out of jail or he gonna die!” Keyshia said.

Ceasar grew concerned and threw up his hands. “What could we do? They already found him guilty, and there's nothing else for us to do. The feds don't even give time off for good behavior, so he got to do a flat bid twenty years straight.” He watched Keyshia put her head down and felt bad. “I'm sorry I had to say that, Keyshia, and I know how much you love my brother, but you got to look at the reality of it all and move on—for you and the baby's sake.”

After a long silence, Keyshia lifted her head defiantly and said, “Ceasar, the reality is that Clyde is innocent and I can't help but hold on to that. He always told me that for every problem there is a solution.” She looked Ceasar directly in the eye and said, “Now my man got a problem and I'm gonna find him a solution.” She stood strong and said, “All I got to do is find it.”

“Damn, sis, I really believe you going to do it. You convinced me. Hell, you should have been Clyde's lawyer instead of that sorry-ass one he had, you would have got him off.” Ceasar thought back to the case. “That sorry bastard didn't even put Clyde on the stand.” He began turning red. “Shit, I wonder how many other mistakes his dumb ass made that we don't know about.”

He looked at Keyshia and said, “Now, if there was any way to get Clyde off, it would lie in how many mistakes his damn lawyer made, and we could get a new trial going.”

“Ceasar!” Keyshia said. “What do you think of me going back to school?”