11
Truth Revealed

After what happened at Terry’s place, in addition to the fact Oz had me going to visit Charlie without backup, I was a little on edge. With that, and me not knowing what to expect, I exited on 86th Street to try a different approach. The thought bounced back and forth between my ears: Would he hang me out like that? Why would he hang me out like that? BBBRRRIIINNNGGG. BBBRRIIINNNGGG. I was so deep in thought the sound of the phone caught me off guard. My reaction nearly resulted with a young lady pushing a stroller in the crosswalk getting run down.

She yelled, giving me a look that nearly peeled the paint off my car, “You might wanna pay a’tention to the damn street instead of watchin what’s on the freakin sidewalk!”

I answered my cell. “What! I mean, yeah, what’s up?”

The sweetest voice imaginable asked, “My, are we having a bad morning or what? Who kicked you in the butt?” Before eventually identifying, “This is your favorite police officer. What’s going on?”

“Nothing Ernestina,” I cut. “Look, this really isn’t a good time. Mind if I ring you back in a few?”

“I called to see if you had plans for lunch,” she said. “But if you have something more important to do…”

“Oh no,” I spoke up. “I wasn’t trying to put you off. I’m just dealing with something at the moment. Lunch does sound like a good idea, though. What time do you break?”

“My schedule is a little flexible,” she advised. “I can go as early as eleven thirty, or, if I want to go later, around twelve or twelve thirty. It’s up to you.”

This was no time for a debate, “I’ll call you as soon as I’m done,” I said.

“Speaking of being done; how was the appointment you were in such a hurry to get to when we spoke earlier?” she questioned.

My response came across a little more brash than I’d intended, “Listen, I said I’ll call you when I’m done.”

In a tone absent any emotion, “I’m holding my breath,” she’d replied. There was an awkward moment of silence before the line went dead.

Instinct almost had me immediately dial her back. A situation like this is the wrong time to have your body show up without inviting your mind along for the ride. I rationalized within. It occurred to me how dangerous things could potentially become when pulling off the street about a block from Charlie’s. I’d recognized several vehicles I knew belonged to people who weren’t interested in becoming Oz’s pen pals. Motionless, I sat in my car trying to figure on the best way out of the spot in which I’d found myself. Going to Oz without doing what he’d sent me to do would be like striking a match, swallowing it, and using gasoline for a chaser. But walking inside Charlie’s with all that heat up in there would have the same effect as crawling into a lion’s den wearing a steak pendant. I remember thinking to myself, This would have been a good day to sleep in. I braced for the anticipated reaction while dialing Oz’s cell a second time. BBBRRRIIINNNGGG, BBBRRRIIINNNGGG, BBBRRRIIINNNGGG, and BBBRRRIIINNNGGG. I was more nervous than any other time since leaving Georgia and was at the point of hanging up.

“Yeah,” Oz sounded like somebody had their hand over his mouth. “What’s goin on Willie?” he finally asked. “You stop by Charlie’s?”

My tongue kept getting in the way. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him what I knew he had to know, “Yeah…well, no. I mean I did, but I haven’t…”

Oz was noticeably frustrated, “All right, I ain’t got no time for this bull…ain’t halfway in the damn mood neither. Spit out what ya got on yo mind.”

I started to explain, “Now Oz, you know I’ve never crossed you.” I detailed. “And anytime you ever needed me, I’ve been there.”

“What is this, some Days of Our Lives bullshit?” he asked. “Get to the damn point, William. Did you get the shit done that I sent you out there for? Right about now, that’s all the hell I care ‘bout know’n!”

Before realizing it, I blew up at him. “Well, the question I can’t find an answer to is why the hell you sent me out here in the first place? This is no damn place for me to be by myself…and at lunch too? You know every snake in Harlem is posted up in that joint around this time of day…every snake in Harlem that doesn’t like your ass, might I remind you? And it’s not like these bastards don’t know who signs my check.”

He waited patiently for me to take a breath. “You musta done fell off da damn bed. Did you forget who the hell I am? I’m the fool that watch yo back when nobody else look out for yo skinny ass. I put you up to keep other muthers from knockin yo country ass down,” he refuted. “What the hell, you think I’d roll over and just throw you to the dogs?”

Feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders, “I didn’t know man,” I answered. “I mean, you haven’t really been trying to talk to a brother; got me out here on some kamikaze suicide shit. For a minute, I’m thinking you the one tripping.”

He answered in a more solemn tone, “For a minute, I was. Got a call this mornin from that fool Charlie…said he had some info he knowed I’d ‘preciate…somethin ‘bout somebody close,” Oz explained. “First person come to mind was you, ‘cause you’s ‘bout the only one can get to me like that. Then he told me ‘bout some evidence…pictures, he say. That’s what you’s s’pose to be pickin up.”

“How you know it’s not me in the pictures?” I asked.

“Well, ‘cause they’s from couple weeks ago…on a Sunday. And I knows you be up by yo peoples ev’ry Sunday,” he said. “Couldna been you ‘cause you wasn’t no where ‘round.”

“So, who the hell’s in the pictures?” I questioned.

Oz spoke while trying to control his anger, “That part, Charlie wouldn’t spell out on the phone; told me he don’t wanna get up in the middle ‘o no family bullshit,” he said before concluding, “Just go get the shit he got and explain, I owe him.”

“Funny,” I said. “For some reason it’s hard to believe Charlie’s doing this because he wants to be your new best friend.”

“We two lions in the same part o’ the bitchin jungle; ain’t much chance for us being friends,” Oz said. “This ‘bout respect.” He paused, and then reminded, “Bring me what he got.”

Still somewhat leery of Charlie and his companions, I elected to not move the car any closer to the entrance. Instead, I climbed out and walked in the direction opposite where Charlie’s Place was located. I walked one street over and, from there, circled around, walked three blocks back and came up on the side of the building opposite where I’d parked.

I was nearly in the doorway before the heavies noticed me. The smaller of the two asked, “What can I do for you?”

Without making eye contact, “Yeah, I got business with Charlie,” I responded, “He in?”

The big dude wearing a baseball cap answered, “He might be. But don’t nobody go through witout get’n checked first. I gotta walk you in.”

Knowing the routine, I had disarmed prior to leaving the car and asked, while being frisked for weapons, “What’s with the added security?”

The guy checking me responded, “This ain’t added security,” he said prior to confirming, “Clean,” and then directing, “Come wit me this way.”

Following him through the entrance, we walked around the pool tables, and back to Charlie’s private office. I paid particular attention to the door that had been installed to replace the one I’d crashed through last week. Again, stained glass inside a wood frame, but this one had bars; I assumed to keep people like me out. It was surprising that nobody seemed to recognize me from my previous visit.

When the door opened, I could hear Charlie, “I’m on the phone,” he said. “I’ll be done in just a minute. Tell him to have a seat out front.”

The heavy led back past the pool tables and directed me to a bar stool near the jukebox. Ironically, it sounded a lot like the same jazz cut that was playing when I last happened through. This time though, I could appreciate the music a lot more without all the screaming. My agenda wasn’t quite the same today as when I’d passed this way before. That day, I was too focused on doing what I was here to do, and getting my ass out as quick as possible.

The music prompted me to raise my voice. “Tell Charlie I got things to do,” I yelled. “I didn’t come by to hang out for the rest of the damn day.”

The heavy sounded back, “He said he’ll be out in a minute.”

Patience in such situations never was my strong suit, “Yeah, I heard you the first time, but that was like, fifteen minutes ago.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie appear from the area leading back to his office. He approached the bar where I waited, “I’m impressed,” he said.

Obviously, a little puzzled, “What’s that?” I asked.

The owner wore a look I couldn’t quite figure out, “You been here more than five minutes and ain’t none of my shit broke,” he said. “I’m impressed.”

Suddenly, nearly every person in the place was eyeing me like I was in a police lineup. So much for not being recognized, I thought to myself.

“Well, I was here on a different sort of business the last time,” I remarked. “Don’t take it too personal.”

“Speaking of bidness: We might as well get to it,” Charlie said.

“That works for me,” I answered. “The sooner we get this thing done, the sooner I can get back to Oz with what he needs. By the way, he told me to let you know he appreciates you looking out for him.”

Charlie nodded, “Tell Oz I ain’t so much looking out for him as I am the network.”

I commented, while taking the brown envelope he’d passed me, “All the same, he appreciates it.” Without taking a look, I tucked the envelope beneath my arm and started for the door, “Thanks, you know he’ll do what needs doing.”

As I passed near the register, the bartender called out, “Let the old man know, what goes ‘round oughtta come back ‘round.”

In mid-stride, “…And what comes back around should go around again,” I replied.

I’d gotten what I came for, and all I could think about was the fastest way out. After hurrying to my car, I dialed Oz while pulling onto the street.

BBBRRRIIINNNGGG, BBBRRRI… The way he snatched the phone up, you’d think the old man was sitting on it. “Yeah, Willie?” he asked.

I questioned, before considering the seriousness of the situation, “Were you expecting somebody else?”

Without the least bit of understanding in his voice, “Don’t play,” he said. “This ain’t no time for playin. You get it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “On the way over to you now...be there in a few minutes.”

Apprehensively, he asked, “You look to see what it is?”

“Nope, sure didn’t,” I responded. “That would be your job. I don’t make it a habit to go poking around under another man’s bed. If there’s something to be found, best he be the one to find it.” Checking the time, I said, “I’m gone have to leave this one with you…got a run to make. I’ll drop the stuff from Mr. Terry and Charlie off but I have to be out; need to get back down to Spanish Harlem in less than an hour.”

Trying to conceal his disappointment, “What’s so damn important you ain’t gone stay ‘round to help me deal wit this?” he asked.

“I’ll be back,” I assured. “It’ll only take a couple hours at the most. Besides, what could be so bad that you, of all people, can’t handle it?”

“Well, we’ll talk ‘bout you leavin when you get here,” he said.

My drive over to Oz’s spot seemed to take twice as long as it normally did. The more I considered getting back to Ernestina, the faster I drove. Leaving Oz in a bad spot is something I’d normally not even consider. The rationalization continued until it began to sound almost logical to me. Besides, if anybody could take care of themselves—Oz had helped make the streets what they’d become. I pulled up in front of his place, taking my usual spot blocking the fire hydrant on the street and hurried in to deliver the envelope. He’d been impatiently waiting all morning to put curiosity to rest.

Oz met me at the door, “That it?” and took the envelope before I had a chance to hand it over.

Opening the clasp and removing a photo to closely examine it. “Damn,” he said, flopping down in one of the lounge chairs. “Damn, and after all I done.” He relaxed his grip and allowed the picture, envelope, and all to fall to the tabletop without any further comment.

I was headed back out the door when I heard Oz’s pride hit the floor like a sack of bricks.

With a puzzled look, I turned and asked, “What’s up old man?”

“Shoulda buried that bastard when I had the chance,” he mumbled.

Eyeballing the picture, “What bastard?” I asked.

“Who you see?” Oz questioned.

I explained, “Just some brother standing outside a black ‘Gator…looks like the one your boy, Amp, be wheeling. But I don’t recognize the dude.”

Oz took another look at the photo. “The one you don’t know; Jerome...witout the blond hair. He sportin a shaved head…And that is Amp’s Navigator. He sittin inside.”

I asked, without thinking, “Why would Jerome be standing outside Amp’s ride?”

“The question of all questions,” Oz remarked. “Yeah, why would he? I tell you man, somethin don’t smell right. I need you to check this out for me. Make sure our boys ain’t up ta no good.” He stood for a minute staring into nothingness, then said, “The way I remember, if Jerome involved, can’t nothin ‘bout it be good.”

The idea of leaving him at a time like this never crossed my mind. I excused myself and walked outside the building to call Ernestina. Oz had been there for me more times and in more ways than I could remember. Other than Eunice and Poppy, he was the closest thing to family I had in New York. On the other hand, this was the chance for which I’d been waiting with the woman for whom I’d been waiting; it seemed, my whole life. On the day we’d met, there was this feeling of connecting on a different level and I truly believed it was destined for us to be together. The problem we kept having was with trying to actually get together. About the time I started dialing Ernestina’s number, my phone sounded. BBBRRRIIINNNGGG. I picked up on the first ring trying to sound enthused, “Hey baby.”

“I done told you, it hasn’t been established that you have the right to call me baby, at least not yet,” Ernestina joked. “I was calling you because you were supposed to call me about making plans for lunch and, well, that didn’t look like it was going to happen…again. So, I guess this phone call makes me guilty of putting myself out there.”

“Well, to be honest, I was dialing your number when my phone rang,” I explained. “…calling to let you know…”

Ernestina cut me off with a full grown attitude front and center, “Yeah, I know, you can’t make it. There’s something you forgot to take care of,” she replied. “No problem, I’ll just grab a sandwich at the deli around the corner.”

“Now wait,” I interrupted. “You don’t understand…”

She interjected again, “If you really want to know the truth, I’m tired of being the one who has to understand. Several days passed after we talked the evening I met you…and I understood the fact that maybe you’d already made plans. I contacted you earlier today and you got a little pissed because you saw that as my attempt to control you; again…I understood. I like a good, strong man who can handle things on his own.” Her anger became even more pronounced, “And now, what you’re going to tell me is that something came up and you have to back out on the lunch date I…well, I was actually looking forward to; that you want me to understand. Well I don’t! How much more understanding do I have to be?”

“Look baby…” I said.

She let out a muffled yell, “And how many times have I told you about that baby shit!”

I was on the verge of being done at that point. If it had been most anybody else, I probably would gladly have been finished with the chase altogether, but there was something about this woman that just wouldn’t let me go…something about her that wouldn’t allow me to let her go. Not before ever having the opportunity to know her. “I know you’re kind of pissed off right now,” I tried.

“Kind of...” she cut. “Huh, you don’t know the half.”

“Okay now, I can understand you being a little aggravated,” I said. “But there has been a lot going on today. My day isn’t even half over yet and all I’ve been doing is wishing it hadn’t started. To begin with, you’re wrong. There’s nothing I remembered that hadn’t been taken care of but something has come up since I talked to you this morning. It’s an issue that has to be dealt with right now and I don’t know what I’ll have to do or how long it’s going to take,” I began explaining. “I was honestly looking forward to getting together with you for lunch as well. Hell, I’ve been looking forward to getting together with you since we spoke this past Sunday, if you want to know the whole truth.”

Her comment came from a more pleasant place but was still laced with an air of bitterness, “I wouldn’t know that you’ve been looking forward to doing anything with me,” she said. “What could have come up in the past hour and a half that’s so important you have to deal with it right now anyway?”

I was trying to smooth the situation over when I walked back inside where Oz was still waiting. “Listen, it’s not a big deal but I have to do something for my old man.”

Sounding more sympathetic, “Oh,” she said. “I didn’t realize it was something concerning your father. Is everything all right with him? I mean, he’s not sick or anything like that is he?” she asked.

“No,” I answered. “Just something that was brought to his attention and needs to be addressed before it becomes worse than it already is.”

Ernestina started with what she believed was a related example, “I remember when my dad had gone in for a checkup about four years ago and they found a polyp in his colon. That was a tense moment for the whole family. Thankfully, it didn’t turn out to be anything but it’s always best if you can catch situations like that early; the earlier the better, for sure.”

“Baby,” I uttered. “I really need to go take care of this.”

“Okay sweetheart…I mean, okay Willie…call me when you have a chance. I hope everything checks out all right,” she said. “Tell your dad I said hello.”

I walked over to the table where Oz had taken a seat, waiting for me to finish the phone call, “You all right?” I asked.

“I’m straight,” he replied. “Just tryin to figure out how to deal with them asses…wonderin what they’s up to, you know?”

I commented, trying to put him more at ease, “It can’t be bad as you’re thinking. Both of them learned all they know from you, and I wouldn’t stake my life on what Amp knows because he’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

“Don’t take ‘em for fools,” Oz cautioned. “They kids to the game, but they hongry. And ain’t nuthin more dang’rous to deal wit than a hongry animal. You just be sho and watch yoself.”

My response was laced with sarcasm, “Oh, I didn’t know you cared so much,” I said.

Reminding me of the reference I had made during the conversation with Ernestina, “What kinda old man would I be if I ain’t care ‘bout yo ass?” he asked.

“Well old man, I got business,” I said. “I’m going to run and see some people who might be able to help us with our little pest problem. If I’m thinking right, that warehouse where they were out front in the picture is up in the Bronx. I need to borrow that if you don’t mind.”

Passing the evidence to me, “Keep it long as you need,” Oz replied. “I knows what them snakes look like.”

With an old-brother-from-the-block handshake, “I’m out,” I said before asking, “Is that fool due to come back around today? Wouldn’t want him to get stupid and try you if he catches you by yourself, especially if he’s not coming alone.”

He chuckled at the comment, “It takes more ‘n them two moles to make me run ‘n hide. ‘Sides, my man Tony ‘round here somewhere.”

“You just need to be careful,” I cautioned. “There’s no way of knowing how long they been sneaking around together. I wouldn’t put it past them to try creeping up on you.”

Oz commented out of the blue, “She make you talk different.”

With a genuine look of confusion, “What, who…What are you talking about, old man?” I asked. “It’s called proper grammar. One of the few benefits realized from years of private schools and tutors.”

“Ole girl you was talkin wit on the phone,” he answered. “I might be old, but I ain’t that old. I still knows what it mean when a brother talkin on the phone and walk out da room. The way you’s talkin all nice wit the right words ‘n shit an’ callin her baby.”

“How you know it was a female?” I questioned.

“Hope like hell that ain’t no brotha you callin baby,” he laughed, before questioning in a serious tone. “That where you s‘pose to been goin ain’t it?”

“Yeah, but she understands,” I said.

He half grinned, “Didn’t sound too understandin to me.”

I was somewhat defensive in my response, “Understanding or not, business comes first. I mean, we just met a few days ago. It’s not like we’ve known each other so long that the two of us have to be together like that.”

Oz remarked, with a devilish smirk, “Sound to me like you wanna be knowin her so y’all can be gettin t’gether like that,” he said. “Like I say, I’m just old, I ain’t stupid.”

In a tone that more-or-less spoke to the degree of my feelings on the matter, “Okay, enough of this Oprah Winfrey moment crap. I’ve got things to do,” I replied. “Got to get up to the Bronx and check on something.”

Oz spoke up as I turned to leave, “You know, I think I wanna handle this a li’l dif’rent,” he said. “You go‘on ‘bout yo plans. I got a few calls to make.”

I turned back. “Now, you don’t need to be concerning yourself with my plans. Like I said, business is business, and business always comes first. I’ll deal with whatever plans I’ve got when the time comes. Just know I’ve got this.”

“No, for real,” He stopped me. “If we start doin stuff different, them fools might get suspi…suspic…They might start thinkin somethin up.”

“So how you plan on dealing with this?” I asked. “Something has to be done.”

“Yeah, I know,” he reassured. “And somethin gone get done real soon, just not by somebody they think. They’s some peoples in the Bronx owe me a favor. You can call girl back ‘n do what ya gone do,” he said.

“Not right now,” I replied. “Sometime later, maybe. What I need at the moment is to just bring the level down a notch. A big part of the day is already gone. I haven’t done much of anything, but it feels like I’ve been on a post-hole digger since five o’clock this morning.”

“On a what?” He had no idea what I was talking about.

Realizing the comment was a little too regional for him to grasp, “Never mind,” I replied. “It’s a Southern thing. You wouldn’t know about anything like that.”

“Don’t think I wanna know,” Oz stated.

“Well look, I’m going to get out of here. Maybe if I just go back to my apartment, take a nap, get up, shower, and start the day all over, things might work out a little better,” I hoped. For the sake of clarification, I asked, “And you’re sure you don’t want me to go handle things up in the Bronx?”

His face looked as if it had been carved from stone, “Naw, you go’on,” Oz said. Then, he grinned and commented while walking toward his office, “Just know I got this.”

I was on my way back to the Village replaying the whirlwind of a day I’d already had and started thinking about the disappointment in Ernestina’s voice when we’d spoken about lunch earlier. It was quite flattering to find out that beneath the armor-plated exterior, she had something of a vulnerable interior. The more I thought about her, the more I hoped for the opportunity to explore that interior. She wasn’t like any other woman I’d encountered since arriving in New York. Come to think of it, she didn’t appear to be much like any woman I had ever come across anywhere.

The thought of her got to be too much. BBBRRRIII
NNNGGG, BBBRRRIIINNNGGG, BBBRRRIIINNN… Her phone was ringing as I adjusted the volume of the jazz station.

“Hello,” she answered. “This is Ernestina…”

“How are you doing, baby?” I asked.

“There’s only one person I know who’s allowed to call me that,” she replied.

I let go a hearty laugh, “Oh, so now I’m allowed to call you baby?” before jokingly asking, “What happened to not knowing you well enough?”

“It doesn’t much matter what you call me. Seems we’re never going to have the opportunity to know each other any better than an occasional chat on the phone between your appointments,” she said.

“Well there might be a solution to that situation, if you’d be receptive to dinner,” I suggested.

Ernestina’s question was posed from atop a mountain of optimism, “When and where?” she asked.

I commented, “I’d imagine you’ve got to have food tonight, and you can choose to eat wherever you’d like. You set the time and name whatever place you want. I’ve kept you waiting long enough that you should be allowed to choose. We can go wherever you want.”

“You sure a night out won’t conflict with anything you’ve already got scheduled?” she asked. “Or maybe we should just plan a quiet evening in to allow some flexibility in the event you get called out on emergency.”

“Okay, I’ll allow you that one. I guess I deserve a punch or two.”

“You’re serious?” she questioned.

“I think it was me who asked,” I said.

“You also asked me to lunch today, and I ended up with a deli sandwich and a pickle accompanied by an oversized chocolate chip cookie for dessert,” she reminded.

I jovially warned, “Okay, okay, that’s enough. It’s beginning to feel a little more like abuse at this point.” Then confirmed, “Seriously though, you make plans for whenever and wherever you want. It’ll be my attempt to make up for the past week.”

She hesitated for a moment. “There is this one place that I’m familiar with where the atmosphere is real nice, there’s good music, and the food’s not half bad either.”

“That sounds like a good spot. What time should I pick you up?” I asked. “Tell you what, I’m driving and my memory isn’t all that great, so why don’t I call you…say, around six and you can give me directions where to pick you up; or if you’d rather meet me at the restaurant, that’ll be cool too,” I said.

“How about this?” she started. “I sort of volunteered for a few hours overtime, so I won’t actually be off work until seven. Then, by the time I make it home, shower, get dressed and finish, you know, all the girl stuff…can we say, have you pick me up around nine or nine-thirty?”

“Isn’t that a bit late for dinner?” I asked. “What restaurant are we going to find open after ten o’clock at night?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten where you are,” she laughed. “This is New York; the city that never sleeps. You can find most anything you want at most anytime you want it.”

“It’s not the city’s sleep about which I’m concerned; it’s yours and mine,” I commented. “Just because we live in the city that never sleeps, doesn’t mean we don’t have to.”

“All right, all right, Cinderfella, I’ll be sure to turn you loose before midnight,” she joked. “Don’t worry, there’s plenty open at night in this city. I’ll think of something by the time you get over by me.”

“You know, I can still pick you up from work if you’d like,” I said.

“Um, no that’s all right. Call me later and I’ll see you at my place. I don’t too much like these cackling hens around here all up in my business,” she commented.

“Okay then, guess it’s a date,” I confirmed. “See you in a little while.”

“Where are you on your way to, now?” she questioned.

I thought to myself, there’s that control thing again and playfully put my foot down, “Excuse me, but I think what I do doesn’t become your business until around nine o’clock tonight.” Little did she know, that controlling nature was the only problem I had with her up to that point. “How about I let you know what I’m up to when I call you later? That’s when I’ll be on my way over to pick you up for dinner,” I said.

“Careful, I just might change my mind.”

I pretended it wouldn’t make any difference, “You could,” I replied.

“Just don’t stand me up again,” she protested.

“When did I stand you up?” I asked. “We’ve never had a confirmed date since the day we met, have we? I’m sure I would’ve remembered if there was something we were supposed to do together.”

She repeated, “Like I said, just don’t stand me up...again. Now, I have to go so I can pretend I’m doing something to give them a reason to pay me. Be careful on that phone while you’re driving. Talk to you later.”

“Later.” The call was concluded as I turned onto Bleeker Street.

I had only left home a few hours ago but it seemed as if I was returning from a long trip. All I could think about was how good it would feel to get a much needed shower and wash away the city before reclining with Miles Jay or Nancy Wilson. Theirs was the only company I was in the mood for at the moment.