Chapter 63 Geneva
Geneva
I sat on the bench in front of my building, chain-smoking as I watched Charlie play with her friends. She’d asked me at least fifty times when Eric was coming home, and all I could say was “Soon.”
I’d told Big Eric the whole sordid story and demanded that he haul out the troops to find my son, and all he could say was “I can’t believe you’re screwing a man half your age.”
After I cussed him every which way, damned him to hell, and talked about his mama and ugly new wife, he knew I was serious and said that he would do what he could but that the bottom line was that “Little Eric” was a grown-ass man, and if he wanted to leave the nest, he had every right to do so.
I didn’t want to hear that shit and told him so. After a few more choice words, I sent Eric scurrying out of the apartment with his tail between his legs. I told him the next time I saw him he’d better have my son or there was going to be hell to pay!
Deeka stopped by on his way to the club, just missing my ex-husband.
He had his sister, Kendra, with him. She was all of seventeen years old.
Kendra seemed nice enough, all happy to meet me, talking about how much she’d heard about me.
I wasn’t in the mood to make anyone’s acquaintance, and to tell you the truth, Deeka should have known better, but true to his gender, he wasn’t even thinking on that level.
I dropped Charlie off with my mother, lied and said I had some errands to run, and parked myself right outside on the front bench again.
I had my cigarettes and the cordless phone with me. While I chain-smoked, I tried calling Crystal, and when she didn’t answer, I called Chevy. Now that was a sign of desperation.
***
The way it was told to me, Deeka arrived at the Zimba Lounge at around nine thirty, just as Eric and his band were getting ready to play.
Deeka had tried to talk to Eric, but Eric wasn’t having it and warned him to get away from him.
They’d played four sets when Eric looked across the bar and saw some young fine thing all up in Deeka’s face.
He would confide in me later that all he saw was red.
This man who had claimed to love his mother flaunting some ho all up in his face like that.
His words, not mine. Well, it was all he could do to keep his composure, and right in the middle of one of their songs, he threw his sticks down to the ground and made a beeline toward Deeka.
Deeka was taken completely off guard. I mean, he’d seen him coming on account of the ruckus Eric was causing. He knocked a waiter over and a couple who’d been dancing in the middle of the floor.
Deeka was in so much shock that at first he couldn’t move. And then when he could move, he pushed the girl, who turned out to be his sister, out of harm’s way. And just in time too, because before Deeka knew it, Eric was all over him like white on rice!
Tables went over and glasses shattered, while women screamed and some men tried in vain to pull Eric off. Deeka would tell me that he didn’t want to hit him, but after Eric clocked him twice in the nose, he had no other choice but to defend himself.
They rolled and rolled until Deeka found himself pinned beneath Eric, a steak knife pressed against his throat. It could have gone really bad then. In one fell swoop I could have lost both the men I loved. One to the grave and the other to the penitentiary.
But God is good all of the time, and that low-account, deadbeat ex-husband of mine came upon the scene like Superman and snatched Eric off Deeka.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eric had screamed at his oldest child.
He had ten cops with him, and they all had their guns drawn. When the call came over the radio that there was a fight at the Zimba Lounge, Eric Sr. had responded to it, not knowing that he was about to encounter our son and my lover!
It took a moment for Eric to realize who it was who was screaming at him, but when he did, reality must have come crashing down on him, because he looked at Deeka and then at the knife and then burst into tears.
I couldn’t remember the last time Big Eric had held his son in his arms, but I knew he did that night.