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“And you open your mouth!” she hollered at him, probing the gun between his lips.
“You willin’ to die for this pussy, huh?” she moaned, as she jerked rapidly on top of him.
“Uhhhmm…,” Harrison groaned, nodding his head.
She reared her head back in chilling laughter. “Well, darlin’, cum…and die!”
I heard a snap from the gun at the same time Harrison tackled Naomi.
“You bastard!” she cried.
“Harrison, no!” I screamed.
Bang!
“Harrison!” Naomi and I both screamed in unison.
Bang!
“No!” I cringed, holding my head in my hands. Harrison’s eyes bulged. He fell back hard to the floor, unconscious, as Naomi’s lifeless body collided with his.
FULL OF FIRE
Crimson, the color of blood. Tears, clear in color—I’d tasted the saltiness of them both, too many times. Like waves from the deep blue sea, pain can wipe you out. In the midst of a storm, you drown, or you find strength you never knew you had, to fight for your life.
Three people, different in so many ways, soldered together by lies. Ignoring the truth, casting patience to the wind, wanting fulfillment for selfish needs. Harrison, Naomi, and I gambled with hearts, and we were forced to face tragic consequences.
The gun jammed the first time, giving Harrison opportunity to fight. The second shot overpowered him, and I knew I’d lost another soldier whom I’d loved. Naomi witnessed the agony on Harrison’s face, blood streaming from his body as he hit the floor. It was at that moment, I believe she realized how much she loved him. Her cries of regret echoed the walls, and she put the gun to her head, taking her own life.
LET’S STAY TOGETHER
APRIL, 1973
Does a year change anything? I believe it does, when you allow time to remove pride, and order your steps in its own way. Each tragedy had drawn me closer to death. Fallen lives I’d cherished, etched forever in my brain to the brink of madness. Just when I was about to give in to the storm’s tide, a miracle supplied a lifeline. Harrison survived the gunshot wound to the chest. I let go of the past, and embraced the opportunity to start over.
I released the bitterness that had dulled my senses. I lost a father, but I was grateful to still have Gladys. The day after the shooting, I visited her new home on St. Simons Island. We embraced, talked for hours, and began a legacy that I prayed would beautifully transcend time. Her gift to me, my identity. My gift to her, forgiveness. We planned a vacation to Paris, a place where we could dream together and explore the world, happy.
Aunt Frances had prepared a “Bon Voyage” breakfast. Everyone was gathered at the table, eating honey ham and biscuits. I felt blessed to have been given a second chance to love my family: Harrison—the best friend I married on New Year’s Day; Keenan—a sweet bundle of joy, the son we adopted; Frances—the devoted aunt, whose tough love gave me the courage to stand; and Gladys—the beautiful woman I welcomed into my mended heart. Our time together, now cherished like a rare jewel.
***
Gladys and I said our good-byes and held hands as we walked along the dock. Aunt Frances held Keenan, while he waved and blew kisses. Harrison lugged our bags to the ferry. I laughed at him as he held his back, teasing me about the load of “must have” outfits that I probably wouldn’t wear. He kissed Gladys on the cheek and pulled me into his arms.
“Good luck on your contractor’s test tomorrow,” I said, kissing him.
He winked. “I’ll ace it.”
“Holmes Construction, Incorporated. Sounds good to me.”
“You sayin’ it, sounds even better. Thanks for believin’ in me.”
I smiled as I trailed my finger over the thin mustache he’d allowed to grow above his sexy lips. “Thanks for being everything I need.”
As the ferry pulled off, I hugged my mother tight. We released tears of joy, while sunrays trailed brilliantly along the rippling water. Dayclean in Sapelo is still beautiful. When light erases the dark velvet of night, and the sun’s warmth awakens us, hope begins.
Shawan Lewis received her bachelor of science degree in sociology from James Madison University. After years of working in the insurance industry, Ms. Lewis stepped out on faith to pursue a career in writing. She is the author of the novels Help Wanted (2007) and Final Game (2008), published by Urban Books. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, collecting Billie Holiday memorabilia, dancing, listening to jazz music, and traveling. She resides in Baltimore, Maryland with her daughter.
Shawan would like to thank her family, Zane, Jonathan Luckett, Urban Soul, and agent Audra Barrett for the support of her literary endeavors.
