Chapter 34 – Keyonah P Edwards
Chapter Thirty-Four
Keyonah P Edwards
My phone rings right on time. His ex-wife promised to call me, but she hasn’t told me why.
“Keyonah? Is that you?” My ex-sister-in-law sounds surprised to hear my voice. I feel unwanted on impact, even if she clearly doesn’t mean anything by it. Everything puts me on edge these days.
“Hey, Aricia. It’s me.”
“How’s it going?”
My gaze moves from my brother’s photograph to the eviction notices taped to my door. I keep peeling them off the front of my door and sticking them on the inside because it’s too embarrassing to keep them on display for the neighbours to see.
“It’s all good around here.”
I jump back as a small cockroach scuttles under the door and walks aimlessly towards my roommate’s sneakers. I step on it and pray that the crunch isn’t audible over the phone. It’s the type of paranoid on-edge thought you have when you’re stuck in a situation like this.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get in touch,” Aricia says. “We had a hard time sorting through Kennard’s will, but we’re finally ready for you to come out to Buffalo and sign the documents. Can you come any time this month?”
Fuck. I totally forgot that she mentioned that after giving me the news about Kennard.
I feel bad for Aricia after the way my brother treated her.
He cut me off when I threatened to tell her about my friend who saw him on Grindr. I had a complicated relationship with Kennard that I mostly didn’t think about because of my real life problems.
Like the insane asshole I’m hiding out from right now, for example.
“I… I don’t know, Aricia. It’s expensive to get all the way up north.”
“I can pay for your plane ticket.”
“I don’t have my ID anymore.”
It’s part of the reason I’m living in this room with roaches for a while. I need to get out of the city without him finding me, but I’ll still have the issue where he has everything – my passport, all my previous identification, my driver’s license and all the other shit he’s holding over my head.
If I go anywhere near that man again, he’ll kill me. Not only has he threatened to do it several times, the last time I saw him… he tried.
“What? Keyonah… Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I mean… I’m fine. I have my health, Aricia.”
She didn’t just lose her husband. My brother’s affair made it to TMZ because he had a couple high profile clients on the Buffalo Bills.
That shit was crazy and while I can’t fully confirm how much of it was exaggerated, Aricia is definitely above that type of thing.
She has the energy of a fancy divorced aunty, not a hot mess.
For a while, I really thought she and my brother had that ideal black love.
I convinced myself that if I stayed with Torrence, we would eventually get to that level. If I just helped him build. Unfortunately, the only thing that man built up was a tolerance for a special cocktail of Wellbutrin, Vyvanse, marijuana, and putting his hands in my wallet.
“Keyonah. You were my sister-in-law for years. I know your brother is no longer with us, but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone in the world.”
Does Aricia really mean that? My boujee family members don’t normally hold that type of space in their hearts.
There was always a clear limit on their ability or desire to support me.
I get it – I’ve made mistakes, I’m a mess, I’m maybe not the person they expect after a while because I just don’t fit in that world.
“I’m not in a position to leave the state right now,” I say, stiffening my voice, even if it doesn’t feel good to withhold from her. I have to stay strong so I don’t worry her because my life is way more fucked up than I thought it would be at thirty-six years old.
She pauses, and I think we’re almost done with the call.
“What if I sent someone to come get you?”
What does she mean? I pause, because I don’t know how to respond.
“I have an Italian friend who can drive down to wherever you are and get you out… if you’re in a bad situation.”
Is this woman a mind-reader? I don’t know how to respond to her right now, but I also don’t know if I’m in a position to decline this help. It could be just what I need.
“I don’t come without baggage, Aricia.”
“I know,” she says gently. “But… I always thought of you as a little sister, Keyonah.”
I thought I could keep up a tough exterior. I don’t want help. I don’t need help. I’m tired of being the screwed up younger sister who had to drop out of law school, especially when my brother was the valedictorian, wide receiver at a D1 university, and everything my parents wanted in a child.
They never wanted a girl and I wasn’t even a girl they felt like they could be proud of. I’ve tried to recover from my mistakes but…
“When do you need me to be ready? Since you’re sending somebody, I’ll be flexible.”
I don’t want to tell her that I don’t have a job anymore, but I don’t. Every time I get a job, Torrence eventually finds out. I got fired after he called 120 times a day every single day last week while I was out on vacation. And it wasn’t even a vacation because Micah got an RSV from pre-K.
I’m trying to ignore the fact that if Torrence already tracked down my job, my days are numbered before he finds my apartment again. You know your life is fucked up when your eviction isn’t even your biggest problem.
“How soon can you leave?”
Yesterday.
“Friday?”
It’s Wednesday night. Telling her I can move across state lines in less than forty-eight hours must be raising some red flags.
“Okay,” Aricia says with a calm voice that makes me feel like I’m somehow doing something wrong. “I’ll have my friend show up on Friday. Are you somewhere safe?”
I don’t know if she’s implying anything by that question, if there’s something I said that indicated my circumstances are less than safe. I don’t want her to panic.
“I’m fine. I’ll be fine until Friday.”
“Okay,” Aricia says. “I’ll text you the guy’s number once we hang up. You can trust him.”
I can’t trust anyone. But I have until Friday to find a secret weapon and a way to hide it just in case her friend sees my situation and decides to get funny with it.
“Thanks. I’m sorry for what you went through with my brother.”
“I’m sorry that he passed,” Aricia says. “But with our relationship… I guess everything happens for a reason.”
I’m glad she can see the situation with so much grace and patience. I can’t say I would be able to do the same if I were in her shoes.
“You’re a good person, Aricia.”
“Take care of yourself, Keyonah. I’ll text you all the information you need soon.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and turn around to see if I woke Noah up. He’s still curled up on the air mattress, completely oblivious to all the problems in the world as long as he has that damn Paw Patrol stuffie clutched in his hands. All I ever wanted to do was to keep him safe.
Luckily, my phone call to Aricia didn’t wake my son up.
He has nightmares a lot lately thanks to Torrence kidnapping him three times in the first few years of his life.
I hate hearing him wake up in the middle of the night screaming for me and imagining that when he did that sometimes I was nowhere near him and didn’t even know he was gone.
I limp over from the door back to the bed. Every time I tried to leave, Torrence escalated his violence culminating in an ankle injury that I still haven’t recovered from. At least my son didn’t watch that happen…
I climb into bed next to him and hold Noah’s little body close to mine.
My son is the reason I’m alive. Even if I didn’t choose him, even if the way he came into my life was through the most depraved evil…
I love him. Neither of us chose his father and that gives us something in common.
Noah happened the first time I tried to run.
For a while, Torrence convinced me that the baby would change him.
I nearly died during that pregnancy. He almost hurt me again when Noah turned a year old.
I stopped believing he would change and planning around then, but every time I got close to leaving, something would always make me stay.
If I ever successfully left, Torrence would drag me back with my hair wrapped around his wrist if necessary.
I know I should try to go straight to sleep, but my phone vibrates and I check it one last time before bed to see the contact information Aricia promised she would share pop up.
Gino Taviani: 315-555-2370
I save the number and hope that he’s not just another violent brute and that somehow, this call from Aricia symbolizes a change in my luck.