Vindication
Like father like son . . .
Those were the words that kept echoing through Santiago’s head like a song he couldn’t forget.
Like father like son . . .
The phrase came to him in his dreams, mouthed from Alex’s dying lips. They came to him when he was awake, as if his mind were whispering them in his own ear.
Like father like son . . .
He sat in the bedroom, gripping a bottle of gin in one hand and a picture of Alex, Bas, and himself in the other. The picture was of their younger days, their invincible days. Each of them staring boldly into the camera, cocky grins on their faces, money in their hands, the world at their feet. They had vowed to live forever, now Santiago’s mind was torn between blaming himself and blaming Alex for making him break it. He still didn’t know what to believe. All the signs of Mel’s infidelity were there. He saw it in her eyes, felt it in his gut. Yet the more rational part of him said he had totally misread the situation. Blinded by a jealous love, he struck out at the wrong person. “Birthday party,” he mumbled, scoffing as he hoisted the bottle to his mouth and guzzled.
“You stink.”
He heard the words and looked up into Mel’s face. He hadn’t even heard her come in. The words sounded harsh, but the look on her face wasn’t. It reflected concern for her husband. “Look at you. When is the last time you had a bath? Why are you doing this to yourself?”
Santiago looked down at his soiled robe and pajamas. He hadn’t been out of the house since Alex’s funeral. The only person he communicated with was Bas via cell. He had murdered his cousin, got the devastating news that his son was on the run for murder, and learned a high school counselor called social services on Eva, and they were trying to make his daughter go to a school for troubled teens. Shit was fucked up, and he was beginning to blame his own karma for it.
“It ain’t what I’m doin’, it’s what you did to me,” he spat back, swigging from the bottle.
“You’re blaming me, Santiago? Really? Wow . . . there was nothing going on between Alex and me, nothing, except in your own jealous mind,” Mel spat back.
“Bullshit!” Santiago growled, but he had no conviction behind it, because he wasn’t so sure himself.
“No, you know what? It wasn’t your jealous mind; it was your guilty mind, Santiago. The guilt in you from all these years of cheating on me with every bitch in the street. You know you deserve the same treatment! But I’m not trying to destroy our marriage, Santiago, you are,” Mel huffed.
Santiago shook his head, but deep down, he felt her point. Mel had put up with his bullshit for years, so a part of him felt like it was her turn. But the rest of him wouldn’t accept it.
His cell phone rang in his robe pocket. He answered, “Yeah.”
“I’m a block away,” Bas replied.
“A’ight. I’ll be ready in a few.”
They hung up. Santiago struggled to his feet. Mel tried to help him up, but he shrugged her off. She glared at him.
“You can’t keep pushing me away, Santiago, and expecting me to take it,” she warned.
He wanted to reach out to her, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. All he could see when he looked at her was her sexy ass fuck faces she probably made while Alex was inside of her.
“Birthday party,” he mumbled, then went and took a shower.
When he came out dressed, he saw that Mel was, too. She was standing in the mirror, stepping into her shoes and putting in her earrings.
“Where the fuck you think you goin’?” he questioned, a slight drunken sway in his stance.
She looked at him through the dresser mirror. “Don’t start, Santiago.”
He took a menacing step toward her. “I asked you a goddamn question.”
Tense pause. Conflicting gazes.
“Shopping.”
He laughed. “You wanna shop. Go look in that closet and wear the shit you already bought, or better yet, tell that nigguh to buy it. Oh I forgot, he dead!”
Mel shook her head. “You’re losing your mind.”
“Naw, bitch, you just think I am! I’m still muhfuckin’ Santiago, don’t ever forget that!” he bellowed.
Mel stared at him with pity. Standing there in his drunken state, he only looked like a shell of his former self.
“Gimme your keys, Mel!” he demanded.
“My what! Oh, hell no, nigguh! You goin’ too fuckin—”
Slam!
All Mel felt was a vise grip on her throat and the vanity mirror cracking against her back as Santiago pinned her hard against the mirror with fire in his eyes.
“Gimme . . . your keys, Mel!” he seethed.
She didn’t hesitate to hand him her clutch purse with her car keys in it. He let her go.
“And your phone,” he added.
“It’s on the bed,” she grunted.
“Get it and give it to me,” he ordered calmly but firmly.
She stepped around him on wobbly legs, snatched the phone off the bed, then handed it to him, hand on hip, wrist up.
“Happy?” She glared.
“Don’t leave this room until I get back, Mel. Do you understand?”
“What if I get hungry?” she quipped with bitter sarcasm.
Santiago glanced around, spotted the bottle of sleeping pills, and tossed them at her. She swatted them away, knowing what he was implying. A not-so-subtle suggestion to eat the whole bottle of sleeping pills, because deep down he wouldn’t mind if she did. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her; he just could no longer trust her because he could no longer trust himself.
“It’s a damn shame when a man has to rely on a key to keep a woman,” Mel spat with a smirk.
Santiago glared at her as he walked out. He picked out the bedroom key on his key ring, something he had because of the larger safe he kept. Now he had another jewel to lock up. He locked the door and turned just as Eva was entering the hall way.
“Hey Daddy, where’s Mommy? I have to talk to her,” Eva said.
“Your mother’s . . . not feeling well, baby girl. Talk to her later,” Santiago replied.
Eva saw the pain in his eyes. “Daddy, are you okay? You know I love you, right?”
Santiago smiled. He loved his baby girl more than anything, so hearing her words cheered him up mentally. She hugged him tight and could smell the liquor coming out of his pores. After the hug, she held him at arm’s length and looked into his eyes.
“Daddy, is this about Uncle Alex? Please don’t worry, because I know whoever did it will suffer for it soon,” she surmised.
He already is, his mind groaned.
“I . . . I know.” Santiago gazed at his daughter strangely. “I thought you didn’t like violence, baby girl?”
“I don’t, but this isn’t violence . . . this is vindication,” she replied solemnly.
Santiago sensed something different about her, but he was too drunk and distraught to put his finger on it. He kissed her on the forehead and walked away.
*****
“. . . and I talked to the mayor, too. He sends his condolences. You know why he couldn’t come to the funeral, but he said he’ll see you soon. Atlanta is good. Now that them snake ass nigguhs are gone, everybody on their P’s and Q’s.” Bas chuckled, then glanced over at Santiago as he drove. Santiago had his head down, concentrating on Mel’s phone as he flipped through it.
“Big Brah, did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah,” Santiago lied without looking up, and added under his breath, “This bitch done erased all the texts.”
Bas sighed as he stopped at the light. “Big Brah, I know that ain’t Mel’s phone.”
Santiago didn’t answer.
“You goin’ through her phone now?”
Santiago couldn’t even look at him. “Yo . . . I know something is goin’ on.”
Bas shook his head then pulled off as the light turned green. “For what it’s worth, I don’t believe that surprise party bullshit either. For real, shit was too deep for a fuckin’ party. Alex was makin’ real moves. Now whether he knew or was just a pawn, I don’t know, but I do know boss when I see it. But bottom line is . . . you can’t let that shit fuck with your mind. Real talk, get all the way rid of her, or let her go, but fuck all this sucka for love shit!” Bas huffed.
That was one thing Santiago could always count on. Bas always tells it like it is. He had never been Santiago’s yes man, and he respected that. Santiago nodded and took a deep breath.
“I feel you, Lil Brah, but real talk, I love her too much to . . . get rid of her. And I can’t let her go. I’m just caught up,” Santiago admitted, rubbing his forehead.
They rode in silence for a moment until Santiago finally said, “Yo, make a right. Jump on the highway.”
“Where we goin’?” Bas asked as he threw on his blinker.
“Somewhere I should’ve taken you. I’m takin’ you to see Mr. Colon.”
Bas looked at him intently, but didn’t say a word. There was no need, because he knew exactly who Mr. Colon was. Santiago’s connect. The one he inherited from his uncle, Carlos. Santiago had introduced neither Alex nor Bas to the connect over the years, so Bas knew things had to be serious for Santiago to make such a move.
“You sure, Big Brah?”
Santiago chuckled. “Of course I’m sure, yo. I ain’t that drunk.”
They both laughed.
Santiago continued. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
“Hell yeah I can!” Bas replied with vigor.
Santiago sighed. “And you’re right. Where my head is, it’s no good for business. I need to get my family together. I’ma take Mel on a nice, long vacation, work shit out. Then when I get back, get Eva back on track. As for Tariq . . .” He shook his head. “I’ll think of something.”
“Have you spoken to him?”
“Yeah, and I’ma call him in a few. But I want me and you clear first. As of now, you run the family biz, yo. You the only muhfucka I would trust with this type of responsibility, so . . . don’t let me down,” Santiago warned.
“I won’t, Big Brah . . . I won’t,” Bas replied solemnly.
Santiago nodded, then called Tariq from his mother’s phone. The phone rang and rang, leaving him to ponder his every action. He hadn’t yet thought of a solid plan to get his son out of the storm of shit he created. That single idea made Santiago ask himself two questions: What the fuck was going on with everybody? Was he responsible for the current condition of his family?