Chapter Seven
Fatima lay in bed restlessly as her mind spun uncontrollably. It had been two days since she had spoken to Boomer, and she wished that he would just come home.
“What if something happened to him?” Fatima asked as she turned to face Macy, who was reading a copy of Black Enterprise, catching up on his finances before he went to bed.
Macy heard her question but acted as if he were too distracted to respond. Guilt filled him because he knew that she was waiting for a child who was never coming home again. He wanted to tell her what had happened, but she would never understand. He knew that Fatima’s love for her son outweighed any love she had for anyone else, even herself. He could never let her find out that he was behind Boomer’s death. It was a wrath that he knew he did not want to see.
“Macy?” she whined.
He looked up from his reading and saw the apprehensive look on her face. Her tired, red eyes revealed her worry, and she looked as if she had aged five years overnight. He reached over and pulled her near him so that she was snuggled against his body, resting her head on his chest.
“You said he was high when you spoke with him, right?” Macy asked.
“Yeah, but—”
“Don’t panic, Tima. You know how Boomer gets when he goes on his binges,” Macy said as he rubbed her hair gently. “He’ll turn up. Don’t stress out over this.”
“You’re probably right,” she whispered as she shook her head. “I can tell you this: If he is okay, I’m going to kill him when I finally see him. He can’t keep doing this to me. The drugs and the recklessness, it all has to stop. He’s my baby, and I can’t be up worrying over him like this. He has to get help. Macy, you have to help him. He loves you and he looks up to you.”
Her words penetrated his heart, and he felt a small pain in his chest. “I will, baby. Get some sleep,” he said, his voice breaking slightly as he kissed the top of her head. He folded the magazine in his hands and reached over to the nightstand to turn off the lamp. The darkness helped conceal the sin he had committed. He didn’t know if he could keep up his lie if he had to see how badly Fatima was hurting.
The doorbell rang, and Fatima shot up, throwing the covers off of her body. “That’s him!” she assumed, knowing that no one else could be at the front door at 2:00 A.M.
She threw on her short silk kimono robe. Macy was barely out of bed before she was racing down the stairs to answer the door. She snatched open the door, and her anxious face fell in horror when she saw the two police officers standing before her.
“Hello, Mrs. Sigel,” one of the officers greeted. His tone was respectful, and even though she didn’t know him, the officer was well aware of who she was. As the mayor’s wife, she was very well known throughout the city.
“Officers,” she said back. “Can I help you?” she asked as she tightened her robe.
Macy finally came down the stairs and stood by her side. He put his hand on the small of her back. “Jamison, Williams,” he greeted as he reached out to shake the young men’s hands while calling them by name. “Please come inside.”
They stepped into the foyer and hesitantly directed their attention toward Macy.
“Mr. Mayor ... um, we ... we’re here about your son.”
Fatima’s heart sank when she heard those words. “No ... no ...” she whispered, already knowing the news that they were about to deliver.
“I’m sorry to deliver the news that he has been murdered.”
“No! Macy, no!” Fatima shouted as pain took over her entire body. The wind was knocked out of her, and she doubled over as if she had been punched in the abdomen. She gripped her stomach as she let out an animalistic howl. “No! My baby!” She broke down, not caring that she had an audience.
Macy went to her side, and she collapsed into him as she cried her eyes out on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Tima. I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. She didn’t know the true meaning of his words, but he was apologizing because the burden of Boomer’s death rested on his shoulders. He was the one who had pulled the trigger, and now he was forced to watch his wife fall apart.
“Thank you, gentlemen. Please see yourselves out,” Macy said without ever letting Fatimah go. She was hysterical and so weak at the knees that if he let her go, she would hit the floor.
“When you get a chance, we need one of you to come and view the body to confirm that it’s him,” the officer said in a low, hesitant tone.
Macy nodded, and the officers left as Macy catered to his wife.
Fatima could hardly contain herself; she was sobbing so hard. “Oh my God... . Macy, he’s dead,” she screamed sorrowfully.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m going to take care of you, ma. Shhh, everything is going to be okay,” he whispered as he tried to soothe her. He had known that she would react this way, but seeing it made his conscience heavy.
The two of them had never had any secrets between them, but Macy’s actions had polluted their relationship. This was a secret that he could never tell her because he knew that she would never understand. Forgiveness for this act was something that Fatima would never lend him, and as he held her tightly, he told himself that he could never let her find out. Boomer’s murder would be something that he took to his grave.
Fatima went numb after they identified the body. Seeing her only child lying so stiff in the city morgue killed her. It was as if a vital part of her had died right along with Boomer. She completely withdrew inside of herself and allowed Macy to take the lead. She didn’t make one funeral arrangement. Macy planned everything and spared no expense. Fatima appreciated Macy because he held her up in front of the cameras and the crowd. He would send Boomer home with class and style, ensuring that the last memory that people got of him was a positive one. What she thought he did out of love was really out of pure guilt.
Macy tried desperately to pull Fatima out of her funk. He needed her to be at her best at all times, and Boomer’s death was taking a hefty toll on her. A great sadness had taken over her spirit.
Boomer’s death was nothing but bad press for Macy. As an elected official in the city, people were having a field day and labeling him as a man who had strong ties with L.A.’s most notorious drug dealers and gang leaders. Things grew increasingly tense as he tried to maintain a good image. Everything had to be carefully calculated. He couldn’t make any spontaneous moves without it being scrutinized. Not only were his policies in jeopardy, so was his character, and the last thing Macy needed was this unwanted attention.
He was well aware that he had brought it upon himself, and he tried everything to right his wrongs, but it was useless. Fatima was completely torn up over Boomer’s death, and the lady who usually made him look good could barely even hold herself together. All of the chaos had been a direct result of Macy’s stupid actions. I should have never gone to see Boomer with a pistol on my hip, Macy thought with regret.
Los Angeles was a city that would build you up just to tear you down, and Macy was feeling the pressure. He had set himself up to win, and all of the cards had been stacked in his favor until Boomer had deviated from the plan. Boomer was the only piece of his puzzle that didn’t fit. He wasn’t a part of Macy’s American dream. His drug addiction and reckless behavior had made him the bad seed in the family. The way that Boomer was living, Macy knew that one day Boomer would become a problem. Never in a million years did he expect to be the one to rock him to sleep.
As Macy stared out of the window of his office he shook his head, hoping that the entire situation would become yesterday’s news sooner rather than later.
“When are these mu’fuckas going to move on from this?” he asked rhetorically.
Big E, who sat across from Macy’s executive desk, shrugged his shoulders and replied, “I don’t know, but the longer they linger on it, the more attention they bring to it. That means the spotlight and all eyes are resting on you right now.”
“That’s a problem,” Macy said in a low voice. “We still have people on payroll inside of the police force, right?”
Macy hadn’t wanted to grease political palms or make friends before, but he was glad that he had. The connections that he had been hesitant about making were the same ones that were going to save his ass.
“Yeah, they are in place,” Edris responded.
“Good. I need Boomer’s murder buried. This can’t get out,” he whispered.
Macy realized what was on the line; not only was his freedom in jeopardy, but also his marriage. Everything he had done to get to this level of success would be in vain if it was all taken away because of Boomer.
He closed his blinds and turned toward Big E. “Make sure this goes away as soon as possible, and I want those fucking news vans off of this property,” he snapped.
Macy watched from the window as Edris went and did his job, ensuring that no one got into the building who wasn’t employed there. He couldn’t allow this situation to get out of hand. It was containable at the moment, but Macy knew that one more negative encounter was all that was needed to send his world spiraling downward.
It wasn’t the act of murder that disturbed Macy. He had put in work before, and he understood what came along with taking the life of another. But this one had not been planned, and it hit close to home because it was the biggest mistake that he had ever made.
As he watched the media pack up their things and drive away in their TV news vans, he sighed in relief. Macy just hoped that this would not escalate because he truly believed in karma, and after the sin that he had committed, he knew that nothing good could lie in his dismal future.
The seams to his life seemed to be coming undone, and with Fatima devastated over Boomer’s untimely death, she was no longer the glue that held everything together. As a couple they had never been so vulnerable, and as a man, Macy had never felt so low.
What type of man does that to the child he raised? he thought somberly. He remembered teaching Boomer to ride a bike. It was Macy who had stayed up with Boomer teaching him the ins and outs of sports as they watched different games together. Before Boomer began experimenting with narcotics, the two had been close, but that seemed so long ago. The world had corrupted things too much to go back to those happier times, and whether he wanted to admit it or not, things would never be the same.