The Atonement (24 page)

“
Oh, excuse me,” said
Callie, as Spade turned around to see what had hit her.

“
Cal?”

“
Spade?”

“
Hey girl! How you doin’?”
said Spade giving her a peck on the cheek.

“
I’m good. And
you?”

“
Still goin’. You still a
nurse’?”

“
Yeah. I got off early
today, and I was rushing to pick up my son. Sorry I bumped
you”

“
Oh, that’s alright as long
as it’s you. How’s your baby boy? Last time I saw you, you said he
was getting’ big.”

“
Yep, and he’s walking and
even doin’ some talking, now. Already had his first
birthday.”

“
Really?”

“
Yes.”

“
Ain’t that somethin’. Time
flies, don’t it? Seem like yesterday we was hanging out at the
clubs.”

“
I know.”

Spade looked out into space for a moment, and
her smile faded. She looked down at her clothes and the looked at
Callie’s before staring at the ground.

“
Well I don’t want to keep
you, I know you have to go, so…” she said turning away.

“
Before you go, I wanted to
ask you something?”

“
What?”

“
Do you know a guy named
Chris Lodon?”

“
Chris…Lodon?” she said
looking confused, “I don’t know…what he look like?”

“
Tall, kinda fair-skinned,
kinda thin, real soft spoken…”

“
Maybe. I’m not sure,” she
said peering at her narrowly with mistrust. Callie understood what
she was doing. It was the code of the street: you don’t put
anybody’s business out there to just anyone without gauging the
person’s motive. Now it seemed obvious to Callie that she knew who
Chris was, and had been close enough to him to want to protect him.
In order to get Spade to trust her, Callie knew she would have to
be creative.

“
It’s just that he goes to
the church my boyfriend goes to and he hangs with us sometimes. He
mentioned you the other day, and I told him I see you ‘round the
way sometimes. He told me to say hi if I saw you again,” said
Callie, hoping this bluff would pay off.

“
Oh! I know who you talkin’
bout now! You talkin’ bout Way-lo – at least that’s what we used to
call him ‘round here. How’s he doin’?”

“
Good, good.”

“
Yeah, he told me before he
left from ‘round here, he got saved. He asked me if I wanted to
move into his building downtown and join the church and all that,
but I need to be close to my job, you know. Besides I don’t have
time for church folk and all that.”

“
I get it. I’m not into
church either, that’s my boyfriend’s thing.”

“
Tell Chris I said come see
me. It’s been a while.”

“
I will,” said Callie who
was a little disappointed. It seemed their interview was ending and
so far, the only thing she learned was that Chris was indeed a drug
addict from around this area. But she needed to find out his
connection to Jim.

“
One more thing, Spade,”
said Callie, hurriedly “Was there another guy that used to hang
with you all? Somebody named Jim?”

“
Nah, I don’t know nobody
named Jim? Whenever me and Way-lo – I mean Chris, used to hang out,
it would be me, him, Passion, Dray, Boots, and maybe Gizzy and Ol’
School if they wasn’t locked up.”

“
You sure? Because the guy
seemed to be from round here. They were talking about some guys
named Smoke and Bricks.”

“
Word?”

“
Yeah, somethin’ about how
they died.”

“
Nah, they got put down.
Bricks got shot up in that warehouse off from Riverside with this
other dude named Jay. They was in the game – workin’ for Smoke.
Smoke got away but he didn’t get far because the cops found him
dead in his car over by the Manhattan Bridge.”

“
Who’s Jay?”

“
I just tol’ you. He was one
of the guys workin’ with Smoke. He was a skinny guy - maybe your
height, or a little bit taller, with a dark brown complexion and a
goatee. Kinda look like Sean Wayans back in the day, but a little
darker. He was crazy as hell.”

Callie knew exactly whom she was talking
about. The description fit Jim perfectly, with the exception of the
‘crazy’ part. Now she was onto something.

“
Really?”

“
Chris used to buy from them
when he was usin’, but Jay would do him dirty. He’d do Chris a
favor and then turn around and beat the hell out of him – for no
reason. That n**ga used to beat Chris like a slave. Jay had some
serious problems. But he got it back. I think he might’ve died,
too. I didn’t hear nothin’ ‘bout no funeral, but I don’t think he
had any kinda family to even have one. Shame,” said
Spade.

“
Yeah. It is. Oh, my
goodness,” said Callie as she checked her watch “I have to go get
my baby. I would love to keep talking but…”

“
Don’t worry about it, girl.
I gotta be someplace myself. I’ll see you around.”

“
See ya, Spade.”

“
Oh, and remember to tell
Chris, to see me.”

“
I will.”

Callie headed back up the street to her car
with a confidence she hadn’t known for a while. Callie had always
known that there was something that wasn’t right about the whole
situation Jim had been involved in. Now she knew that Jim was not
just a user, but he was a dealer, and a ruthless one, based on
Spade’s account. No wonder Chris was so quick to keep Jim’s past a
secret. The guy was probably scared to death. The thought sent
chills down Callie’s spine.

All these years she thought she knew Jim. He
was the last person she would have suspected to be involved in the
game at that level. How could the guy that she had always known to
be so compassionate and caring engage in violent acts of brutality
against another human being? Yes, she knew he was on a treacherous
path, when they ended their relationship, with the drugs and the
drinking but she never thought he would have sunk to such a level.
It made her wonder if he had gotten to the point where he was
actually involved in a murder. The very thought made her neck
tighten with apprehension. Then she thought about the argument
they’d had at the hospital. It made her angry to think about how
Jim tried to put a moral guilt trip on her that day. “He has the
nerve to talk about how I’m scheming after everything he’s done,”
she seethed. There was no way that she could allow Jim to have any
part in her son’s life. She didn’t even think it was a good idea
for Jim to be a part of Allen’s life anymore – whether Allen liked
it or not. Given this new information, Callie felt something had to
be done.

Callie would have to proceed carefully. “Jim
may indeed be as crazy as Spade says he is,” she thought. Maybe the
death of his mother, and his derailed career aspirations were just
too much for him to bear. The last thing she wanted to do was to
set Jim off in such a way that would trigger any violent proclivity
he had. She didn’t want Allen or her child to be hurt because she
had provoked Jim to do something self-destructive. Callie would
keep her cards close to her vest and she wouldn’t show them unless
she absolutely had to. In the meantime, she would have to think of
a solution. She would have to find a way to get rid of Jim, but she
would need to enlist his cooperation in order for the plan to
work.

Then as Callie sat down in her car and
started the ignition, the idea popped into her head. It was
brilliant. Not only would Jim go for it, she had no doubt that his
whole family, even Allen would agree to her idea. She couldn’t wait
to pick up Darius and get home so she could call Allen to see how
he felt about it. If he went along, then she would have Allen be
the pitchman because she knew his family was starting to dislike
her – intensely, and they would be more inclined to go along if
they thought it was Allen’s idea. If all went well, Jim would be
out of the picture before Thanksgiving.

Twenty-Three

“How was class?” said a voice as Allen walked
through the door. He thought everyone had gone to bed, but noticed
a light in the corner by the kitchen door. It was Jim. He had been
reading his Bible and was waiting up for him. However after
everything that had happened to him today, Allen was not in the
mood for company. He still had a lot of work ahead of him for
tomorrow’s class and he was exhausted. It was 10:30 and all he
wanted to do was sleep, but that was not an option.

“Like always,” he said followed by a long
yawn.

“Mom left your dinner in the stove.”

“I know.”

“If you need to study, I can sleep on the
couch tonight. Mama Lena already made it up for me.”

“I won’t put you out, man.”

“You’re not putting me out. I’d rather anyway
cause it’s hard getting around in that tiny room with my crutches
and everything. So don’t worry about keeping me up alright.”

“Okay. If that’s what you prefer.”

“You alright, man. You don’t seem like
yourself.”

“It’s just been a long day. I’m gonna take my
food upstairs so I can get a head start on tomorrow’s lesson.”

“Alright. Good night, Al.”

“Night, Jim.”

Allen went to the kitchen and got his
tin-foil wrapped dinner from the oven and put it on a serving tray
that was on the counter. He then headed upstairs to his room trying
to manage the book bag and the tray. When he got to his door, he
had to put the tray down in order to open it. Then he took it up
once again along with the bag and went inside where he put his tray
on the desk and turned on his lamp. Afterward he went over to his
book bag and pulled out a paper from inside the front compartment
and sat on his bed as he stared at it. It was a midterm exam that
had been given in his contracts class. Most law school professors
didn’t give midterms or papers. A student’s grade was based on the
end of year final and participation in class discussions. This
particular professor decided to be magnanimous and give a midterm
to allow the students to see how they were faring in the course.
Allen couldn’t get over the red ‘C’ that was on top of the paper.
He had never in his life seen a grade this low on any exam he’d
taken – ever. What made matters worse, was that at the graduate
level, a grade like this was not a passing grade. A ‘C+’ was barely
passing. Allen was filled with confusion, shame, and dread. There
was no way that he could tell any of his friends or family about
this. “I’m flunking law school and I just started. How in the world
could this be happening?” Allen wondered.

When he went to office hours after class, the
professor explained that he needed to develop a more panoramic view
of judicial precedent when making application to modern contexts.
After their conversation, Allen totally understood what the
professor was saying. However he wished he had more time to fully
digest what he was reading. Allen spent most of his study time
cramming, and he felt he understood very little of anything.
Attending study groups helped at lot because when he was able to
exchange outlines with others he could see some finer points of the
law that he had missed, but he would have to go more often than he
did if it was going to really be effective for him. The problem was
always time. There was never enough time.

Allen had re-tooled his daily plans so many
times that they didn’t make sense to him anymore. He had worked
with Mr. Hardy to negotiate a new 30-hour workweek from his old
45-hour week. Then he cut out his morning and evening devotions,
and reading his Bible was limited to Sundays when he read along
with Pastor Bynum and when he prepared for the Brotherhood Bible
study class. At first, Allen felt convicted about sacrificing his
time with the Lord, but then he began to look at things
differently. “After all, if law school is in his plan for me, He
knows how time consuming it is and He would want me to do my best,”
Allen surmised. He couldn’t even fathom compromising his time with
Callie and Darius, even though his friends and his family were
constantly telling him they were a distraction. “How can I neglect
the woman I say I love or her child? I don’t think God would be
pleased if I did that,” Allen further rationalized to himself, “I
barely spend enough time with them as it is.” At any rate, Allen
was still giving time to the Lord. He said his prayers in the
morning before he left for work and again before he went to bed. He
was serving in the church, ushering on first and third Sundays and
he was in the brotherhood Bible study. He was giving a lot of time
to the Lord, even if it wasn’t as much time as he used to. Still,
Allen needed to find more time if he was going to bring up his
grades. He needed time for study groups, but where was the time
going to come from?

It was now 10:45. Allen couldn’t waste any
more precious time with his thoughts than he already had. He took
out the contracts textbook and the accompanying case study book
that he had for the class and set them on the desk next to his
dinner with a yellow legal pad. Then he unwrapped the foil from the
plate he’d brought upstairs: turkey meatloaf with rice pilaf and
green beans. Allen took a bite of each entrée on the plate, before
reaching into his bag again to bring out a bottle of water and an
energy drink. Allen knew that his family would kill him if they
found out, but he felt they were being overly dramatic. “I’m a
grown man and I know what’s best for me. A little energy drink
never hurt anyone. It’s like soda with a little extra kick. Anyway
it’s not like I’m doing drugs,” Allen reasoned.