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“I am not speaking of the government, sister. That’s merely a system in place to collect money from you and tell you what else you can and can’t do with the little bit of time you have in your life between making them more money or spending the illusion of money they give you and call an ‘income,’ because the outcome is always an income and after that the rest of the outcome is spent on cable television, wine, and student loans,” Baba Seti explained without taking a breath. “So, no, I’m not speaking of the U.S. government led by Barack Hussein Obama. I’m talking about that which governs the government. This government and all others.”
By the time the meeting with Baba Seti was over, the lobby in the front of the center was empty and the visitors’ parking lot only had two parked cars remaining. The security team had informed them that they had no evidence that police or investigators were looking for Val and Kerry, but they also couldn’t find any information about the bodies they’d said they’d seen in the basement at the house in north Georgia.
As Kerry kept saying, Baba Seti promised that he was going to take her to see Jamison in Cuba. He said Jamison was at one of the Fihankra Centers there, working in a community where men, women, and children from around the world had come for refuge, escape, and protection. He’d been handpicked to go there to help the community get stronger, to organize. Soon, all of the centers would connect and they would begin phase three of their plan.
When Kerry asked what that was, Baba Seti put a fist in the air and said, “Revolution.”
Val listened to his many proclamations and promises and tried to figure out if Baba Seti was lying or just crazy, but really, after she’d heard everything he had to say, she couldn’t confirm either of those things. Of everyone she’d come in contact with who claimed they could help her since Jamison’s death, his ideas were the most far-fetched, but also seemed somehow to have the most explanations. Then there was the name of the center—Fihankra—how she’d felt when she saw the sign out front, all of that money Jamison had given the center: five million dollars in insurance money and 20 percent of his dividends from Rake it Up. This couldn’t be coincidence. Why would Jamison give them all that money if the things Baba Seti was saying weren’t true?
“I want you to come with me,” Kerry posed to Val in the car outside of Thirjane’s house after the meeting at the Fihankra Center. “Come with me to Cuba to find him.”
“I don’t think I should go th—”
Kerry cut Val off. “I have to go. I have to find out.”
“Fine. Go. Fly to Cuba with Baba Seti and find Jamison. Why do I have to go?” Val asked.
“Because I want you with me. I need you with me,” Kerry revealed. In the office she’d told Baba Seti she wanted to go to the Cuban Fihankra Center as soon as possible. She had some money and she’d charter a private jet so they could fly directly and not have to worry about times or being tracked.
“I’m not cut out for this kind of thing, Kerry,” Val said.
“So, you don’t believe him? You don’t believe what Baba Seti was saying?”
“I didn’t say that. What I’m saying is that it’s been a long few days and there’s so much going on right now. I just need to go somewhere and sit down and think.” Val looked at Kerry and realized she’d spent the entire day with her. Kerry’s eyes were red. She looked so tired. “Maybe you need some time too.”
Kerry let out a sad laugh. “Time. I wish I had more of it. Had more time to take time.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that you shouldn’t just rush into this. If Jamison faked jumping off some roof so he could escape being killed and go help some hippie compound in Cuba, let him stay there. Getting there tomorrow or next week won’t change that. Like, why does this Baba Seti want you to go right now? What’s that gonna do?”
Kerry looked out the window at the house and got quiet as she had so many times that day. Val could feel her tears.
“I’m not trying to be mean. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m just—I don’t know. I want to make sure you think everything through. Who knows what’s in Cuba? Even if what Baba Seti said was true, who knows?” Val said contemplatively.
“I need to tell you something else,” Kerry said, struggling to find her voice through her crying. She wiped her cheeks and dried her hands on her lap. “It’s about why I was with Jamison the night he died.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Val said. “I already get it. You two were at the hotel. I know what happens there.”
“No. I told you we didn’t sleep together. But we did talk. And he told me—” Kerry paused and let out a little sigh before continuing. “Before he left to go up on that roof, he told me that he wanted to marry me again. And I said yes.” Kerry giggled softly through more tears. “I’d be his third wife . . . well, once he divorced you.”
What should’ve hurt or sounded like fighting words to a woman who’d been married to the man who’d proposed marriage to another woman just sounded like the truth to Val.
“That’s why I have to go see him. I need to ask him why he did that. How he could do that: Ask me to marry him again and it was all a hoax?”
“If it was a hoax,” Val noted.
“I don’t think I can just move on without at least having the opportunity to ask him—face-to-face—how he could hurt me like that. How he could leave me.” Kerry crumbled into an ugly cry. One to which Val had to respond with a shoulder to lean on. And a stroke of her new friend’s hair.
Val was rocking and stroking, soothing Kerry’s broken heart and then she was crying herself. Not because of the comforting Kerry needed. Val cried because of the comfort she was giving. That it felt good. And she wondered why she’d never given it to anyone else.
Val and Kerry separated and began to wipe their tears.
“Uggh! That was ugly,” Val said lightly. “Got me crying and such! Like a big old baby.”
Kerry laughed as she picked up her purse to get out of the car and go into the house.
“Hey, since we’re telling secrets, how about I let one loose on you,” Val asked, with her voice turning serious.
“Sure. What’s up?”
