The Keepers (4 page)

“
To F**k, eat,
money, pussy, and f**k again”. The crowd cheered more loudly. On
how he attained his wealth:

“
I f**ked my
way to the top.”
And on a god:

“
I don’t need
a god. I am a god.” The crowd roared. “
Rikki
!
Rikki
!
Rikki
!”

He viewed the
audience. There was a certain feeling with him, a feeling of
omnipotence, that with just an uplift of his hand, the audience
would rise. Wilfully and arrogantly as would a king drunk in power,
he raised his right hand and the crowd raised its roar and jumped
higher. To him, up there on the stage, he was the only person. The
rest, the crowd, was to him just a liquid, with its
constituents
indiscernible
.

If I throw a
stone here, how far will the ripple go?
h
e
asked himself.

His feeling of
omnipotence also suggested to him that if he lowered his hand
suddenly, maybe the crow
d
would
collapse.

I am a
god
,
h
e thought.

“
Sir First,
your plan with the orphan…I solemnly hope it works,”
The
First
-rank-opp said solemnly.

“
Patience is a
virtue,”
The First
replied.

“
Is she
pregnant?”

“
S
’wat she claimin, I can’t have no
bitch holdin me down, all I know, she could’ve, f**k.” He paused to
catch his breath “She aint getting my money. She doin this 'cause
she know I'm releasing in seven months,
f**kin
bitch.
”

Rikki looked
to his manager, Jared, who was silent throughout the meeting,
unusually silent. He looked neither at
Rikki
nor the secretary but kept rubbing the scruff beneath his
chin with his right hand with the elbow anchored on his
thigh.
Rikki
sensed
his
unusual disposition and decided
to wait for a moment when he could bring
him
into the
conversation.

“
Exactly.
Rikki, a child with a woman like that. Not now at the height of
your career. You’re an idol, you don’t need just a woman, you need
the woman. Dammit Rikki, she even goes round talking about that
Jehovah’s Witness thing. Think what she could do to your
career,”
the secretary said and turned her
head to look at Jared.

Jared sighed, and Rikki took
this as an opportunity find out what was wrong.

“
What's eating
you J?” He asked unconcernedly.

“Nothings
wrong with me, it's you I’m worried
about
...
”

Rikki thought about the times
he had heard Jared say those exact words to him. Before, he had
always listened to Jared and had always lowered down to his
reproaches. But as his music career sloped up, these words were
becoming more annoying, as if Jared was trying to control him.

“
You are
acting like a child Rik,” Jared finished, using few words only with
his gentle voice as usual. These quiet reprimands were what were
especially annoying to
Rikki
.

“
You're
annoying me,” Rikki said with assertiveness and anger his
voice.
“I think you getting old is what’s
eatin you. You losin your style, them bitches
don't
like you no more and you makin money off me,
yeah, remember that, I'm da one making you money. Talkin about how
I'm childish, you don’t even know or have a way to get your
self-paid.”
Since his career had skyrocketed, he had always
wanted to say this.

Jared sighed
and remembered how he had actually been the one, during those old
days, searching for record labels which would even consider taking
Rikki's mixtapes as a point of politeness even if they were just
going to throw them away the moment he left. But, no, he did not
want to mention th
at
to Rikki. Rikki chose
to forget those old days, in fact he chose to forget those who
helped him, even Chantel. They just became liabilities to
him.

“
Okay Rikki. I
didn't know you were
...
” he
stopped.
This is not about
me
,
he said to himself. “Rikki,” he
continued, “Chantel. That girl's been nothing but good to you,
hell, if she wants all you money its because she deserve it.
Remem-”

“
She deserves
nothin!” Rikki interjected him standing up from the couch furiously
and walking around it to the large window overlooking traffic
and
buildings
. “I knew you and that bitch
is s
che
ming,” he added. Jared kept quiet
in disbelief.

He is
lost
,
h
e said to
himself.

“
I don't care
about your money Rikki. You really think they givin you advice
because they care about you?” Jared said and cast a short glance
towards the secretary. She puckered her lips and looked
down.

“
Well, here's
the truth. They don’t!”

“
They know how
to get me rich and that’s all that matters. Money, Pussy. We are
just animals Jared. You tryin to think otherwise is you just-
What's that word?”
he asked his secretary.
She replied.

“
Yeah it's
just you inhibiting yourself.”

“
I have the
decency to do so. I'm no angel Rik, I never been, but there's
pushin the limits and if something inside you doesn't tell you,
then you're dead, and all that’s left is for your heart to stop
beating.”

Rikki sighed.
He did not want to consider what Jared was saying - to him he was
wrong - no matter how sensible
he
was. Jared was wrong no matter what!

“
Jared, if you
aint gonna catch my drift, then we too different. I can't have my
manager going in the opposite direction. I can't have
a
manager going
against.” He closed his eyes and lowered his head at an attempt of
sorrow. “Jared,” he continued “I can't. You pullin me
back
,” he said with as doleful a voice as
he could act out.

The secretary
tried to hide her
pleasure
but with the
pouting of her lips and a cough it escape.

In front of
her.
Jared thought.
No, Rikki, you’re not sorrowful, it's a mask. Not even the
decency to send her out.

“
Abigail, see
to it about his money and,”
he stopped and
looked at Jared, the fake sorrow gone from his face,
“
w
e'll tell 'em that you resigned, that
you are tired- we'll think of something.” It was shocking to Jared
how relieve
d Rikki actually seemed about dismissing him and
so he decided not to argue or to correct but simply to let go and
he stood up not looking at Rikki or the secretary and walked to the
door
and opened it. He stood in the open doorway
with his back to Rikki.

“
Best of luck
to your album. You won't see me again. And if I see you, I won’t
know you
,” Jared said his disappointment
audible in his throat. He walked out and closed the door behind
him.

It was the last time Rikki saw
him.

After an
interval of silence, Abigail, with an exulting sigh, stood up and
went to the window
and stood next to
Rikki.

“
At last.
Thought he wouldn't leave us.”

“
Strip down
and go lay on the bed
,” Rikki commanded
her.

“
Yes
sir
,”
s
he replied
seductively and went to the bedroom.

A person who believes that
there is nothing more to life than just work, money and sex is a
useless person. A person not only useless to himself but to
society. If such a person is in sufficient power, his influence
reproduces and spreads throughout the weak minded and unfortunately
the weak minded outnumbers the others dramatically. Disappointed he
will be when the wilful take over and bring destruction to him,
for, there is a force, a universal force within the living that
brings goodness home.

Seven months
elapsed since Rikki's dismissal of Jared.
The first
three of those months his
son
was born.

“
I am not
after his money
,” Chantel said to the
social worker. “I just want to be able to raise my son, Ms.
Clarke.”

“
I understand,
ma’am. And you say he refuses to take the test
?” The social worker, Ms. Clarke, looked over glasses rested
on her squat nose.

“
He told me
that he knew it wasn't his. I tried to plead with him, tried to
remind him how much I loved him, but he's
…,
” she paused and looked up to keep the tears from coming out
of her eyes. She swallowed hard and said “He is just too stubborn,
he was not always like this.”

“They all always were
not...
Chantel, I'll ask you this once,” she said
taking off her spectacles and resting her hands on the desk. “This
scenario you are in, it's all too familiar to me darling, and I’ve
dealt with many a case as shallow as yours. So,” She stopped, as if
to
stretch
the
connection between
what
she was going to ask
and
what she had been saying
,
“
a
re you positively sure that you have
made no mistake and that the child is his?”

Chantel did
not hesitate. Answering the question, she showed no nervousness but
a bit of an indignant tone
,
“The child is
his ma’am.”

Ms. Clarke sighed and thought
about the number of times innocent looking young girls had come to
her for assistance only to find out they were lying after all her
work in assisting them. She did not believe this girl. To her, the
long un-obscene dress Chantel wore and her neatly done hair, were
probably just a false impression worn to sway social workers, now
that the child had compromised her life.

“
I won't say I
believe you, Chantel,” she said and kept quiet to let what she had
said sink into Chantel.

At what was said, Chantel gave
up holding back the tears and led out a sob which turned in a cry.
She did not deserve this. A voice come into her mind, a maniacal
and sinister voice.

Huh.
The Voice
laughed in her head.
What did you expect, running around with boys,
what did your father say
...
yes and
you did not listen because you were little miss know it all,
weren't you Channy? Little miss high school. Yeah, sluts get what
they deserve, don't they?

More tears and
more sobs escaped through her eyes and mouth. She fidgeted in her
chair, trying to quiet
The Voice
in her
mind. Ms. Clarke noticed her distress and it pleased her to see
that her words had the required effect. From experience, those not
in distress after such words were prevaricating.

“
But,” she
continued, after the quietness “I will do all that is in my power
to help you Chantel. After, and only after the DNA
tests
...
will we see.” Ms. Clarke open the
drawer and took out a form and a writing pad.

“
When you get
home, fill in the form. It
’s basic stuff like where you were
born,
” she said to Chantel handing the form. She
wore her glasses again and grabbed a pen from her desk. “I will ask
you a few questions, Chantel, and please answer honestly, for your
own sake.

“
Is Rikki the
only person you were intimate, sexually, with at
the
time?”

“
Yes.”

After sexual questions came
questions about her behaviour, whether she drank and such, and them
came questions about her employ and who was helping her with the
child.

“
I am a
gas-station attendant, I passed high school with an exemption, but
I haven’t gone any further than that.” Chantel answered, and
thought about how she gone so low, from the soon to be wife of a
wealthy man, to earning just over two pounds an hour. “The child
stays over my at friends while I'm working.” Ms. Clarke asked her
what her friend’s employ was. “She does sewing at her house-
curtains, she sews curtains.” She asked about her place. “She stays
further downtown to where I live.”

“
Okay,
Chantel, I'll see what I can do. If he continues to refuse, we'll
have to go to trial, where he'll be forced to take the DNA test.
You say he's rich
?” Chantel nodded
affirmatively. Ms Clarke continued “Well then, I know a couple of
lawyer friends from reputable firms who owe me a favour or two and
might go
pro bono,
”
s
he sa
id
with some arrogance in her
voice.

“
Till
then,”
she added, “Don't do anything to
compromise yourself.”

“
Thank you
very much, Ms. Clarke,” Chantel said in a more relieved tone than
the one she had had when she
came
.
“Goodbye.”
She grabbed her bag from the
seat next to her and stood up and left.