Benjamin
What I could read in Andrea’s eyes was true. I only saw one side of Sharon. She and I were close and besides that, she was the only girl in a family of two brothers raised without a father. Even if we weren’t especially close, I developed the habit of protecting her and believing in her a long time ago because of what she’d gone through.
Cecil could tell me what I needed to know to let us put this thing to rest for the sake of my pending marriage. I’d learned he’d posted bond to the tune of 75,000 bucks, the required ten percent of his bail.
I had to wait until his bookstore closed, but I was more than willing to do that. While I waited, I got hit on by two nice looking ladies who ranged in age from twenty to fifty. It made me smile and appreciate Andrea all the more. Having someone I loved who was exclusively mine was all I was trying to accomplish with getting married.
“So, what’s up, man?” Cecil asked after the last customer left. We shook hands, and then our fists alternately pounded on top of each other’s before we hugged. He looked the same as always, dreads below his shoulders pulled back into a ponytail this time, same crooked teeth and smile.
“Let me buy you some dinner or something, Cecil. I want to talk to you about Sharon.”
“I’m not hungry, but we can get a drink a few blocks away. You want to follow me?”
I followed his Camry to a joint downtown with the word “Stages” lit up in blue lights in the window. The R&B music met us across the street. Inside, the clack of pool balls made me turn to scan the whole place, difficult to do in the dim light. It wasn’t too crowded, but I would still leave smelling like cigarette smoke. We slid into the black bar chairs and ordered a couple of beers.
“I need to know what the real deal is, man,” I said, after a muscular, no-nonsense barkeep set our brews in front of us. We thanked her.
Cecil wet his fingertips on the sweat of the mug. “Sharon went to see if she could get Eugene to cease and desist. She didn’t like him showing up at your mother’s crib like that.” He took a gulp of the foaming beverage, then set it down.
“He raped her. She called me. I took my gun and shot him. The police are thinking that because I had to drive three hours to do it, that there’s more to the story. But, let me ask you, if it was Andrea, wouldn’t you have done the same thing?”
Shamefully, I almost smiled with relief. Cecil killed Eugene. Andrea needed to hear this. But, in the next second pain sliced through my misplaced joy; the full effect of what Sharon had gone through hit me again. “No doubt. Sharon has been through something like that once in her life. I’m glad somebody was able to stand up for her this time to at least avenge her, if not protect her.”
“I know that, man. I know about what happened to her when she was a kid. That’s part of the reason I did what I did.”
I squeezed his arm so he would know I appreciated what he had done.
“I love Sharon, it’s that simple. Whatever it takes. I mean, I’ve had my eye on her every since she was on the pom squad in high school, man.”
Cecil’s bookstore was right down the street from the deli my mom ran. Sharon had often spent time there when she was in high school.
“That was ten years ago. She’s the woman I’m going to marry one day. I should have cut his sack off, but it was too late.”
“What do you mean too late?”
“Oh, uh. Too late because it was over. The rape was over. So I did the next best thing and took his life.” He looked down at his beer. “My pops is upset, though. He had to hock a lot of shit to help me make bail. I hate to see him suffer because of me.”
“I know that’s right. Sometimes we forget the ripple effects of the things we have to do.” I recalled Andrea mentioning that when I first got back. I took out my checkbook and wrote a check for a thousand dollars.
“Whose idea was it not to go to the police?”
“Sharon’s. She said a murder trial would be too onerous. We knew the shooting was justified, but the courts may not believe us—so, why not avoid going to trial if we could.”
“Then why did you keep the gun, Cecil?”
“Yeah, I blew it. I was supposed to get rid of it. Sharon was royally pissed, but then I would have had to explain to my grandfather, I call him pops, that his gun had gone missing—it was registered to him.”
“I see.” I didn’t yet, but I was working on it. “How’s your grandfather holding up?”
Cecil nodded. “He’s doing the best he can.”
I gave him the check.
“Thanks, man, appreciate this,” he said, folding the check and putting it in his shirt pocket.
“It was your grandfather’s gun? You don’t own one yourself?”
“Uh—no. Not anymore.” He checked his watch. “Say, listen. Thanks for the beer—”
“Wait a minute.” Suddenly, he was in a hurry to leave. We hadn’t been here ten minutes. “Let me ask you this. Do you think Sharon had anything to do with Carolyn’s murder?”
“Carolyn’s murder?” The pool players shouted in disbelief and triumph, like I would depending on Cecil’s answer. “Naw, man. How’d you come up with a question like that? That’s your sister. Don’t you know her?”
“She told Andrea she had. I’m trying to figure out what would make Sharon say those things. Any ideas?”
He looked at me with renewed interest. “What kinds of things did she say?”
“I don’t remember exactly. How did a popcorn bag with your prints on it show up on Vernon?”
He shrugged. “I don’t hang out that way. I’m stumped.” He scratched his neck and sniffed, but never broke eye contact.
“In late February last year, did you lend Sharon your car?”
“You’re talking almost a year ago. I don’t remember. She borrows it a lot. That Eclipse she’s driving has seen better days.” He stood up and drained his mug. “I’m out.”
I stood with him. “Yeah, okay man, no problem. Thanks for your time and thanks for being there for Sharon.”
“Don’t mention it. Hey, I’ll see you at your wedding next month, if not before then.”
“Definitely.” Well, maybe, if there was a wedding. I sat down and finished my beer, thinking about Cecil’s reluctance to talk and his inability to remember details. I left tired. Inside my car, I sat thinking one word—quicksand.