Alex Drakos: Branding Her Again Read online

  “What difference does that make?” Maurice sounded peeved, as if he regretted even bothering to phone her. “Didn’t you hear me? He says you’re a good person. I need good people praying for my cousin. Pray for him. He’s in surgery now. As soon as he gets out, and they give me more information, I will phone you back. But pray for him!”

  And then the line went dead. And Kari became hysterical. “Hello? Hello? Hello!” She was screaming into the phone. She was so overwhelmed with emotion that she didn’t realize her mother had come into the room and removed her still-crying one-year-old from her arms.

  Kari dropped the phone from her hand when she realized DayVon’s cousin was no longer going to answer her. He was no longer on the phone! She covered her mouth as tears dropped from her eyes.

  “He dead?” Jeanene asked her as she bounced Jordan in her arms.

  Kari looked at her. She was mortified that her mother would even think such a thing. “No,” she said. “Why would you say that?”

  “Cause you acting like he dead with all of that screaming and carrying on. That’s why I said it! You and this crying child acting like he dead.”

  Kari refused to let her mind go there. And then she thought of something else. She looked at the Caller ID on the phone. But it unknown name, unknown number. She quickly pressed Redial, but the phone connected to an operator. It had been an international call. She would need to know the number outright.

  She therefore tossed the phone onto the bed, and began putting on her shoes.

  “Where do you think you’re going this time of night?” her mother asked her.

  “I gotta go see Miss Lucille,” Kari said.

  “Miss Lucille? Who the hell is Miss Lucille?”

  But Kari wasn’t hearing her.

  “Where she at?” Jeanene asked. “Your ass ain’t going nowhere!”

  “I gotta go, Ma!” Kari was desperate. “He needs me.”

  “But that boy all the way in another country. What you gonna do for him?”

  But her mother saw the distress all over her young daughter’s face. “I know you’re upset, Karena, but think about what you’re doing. There’s nothing you can do right now.”

  “You got any money at all?” Kari asked her mother.

  “You know I ain’t got no money. I don’t get paid until the end of the week, and every dime of that going on these bills.”

  Kari grabbed Jordan from out of her mother’s arms.

  “Where you going with this baby?” her mother asked her.

  “I told you I’m going to Miss Lucille’s to see if she knows something.” Lucille was the family friend DayVon lived with.

  “Then at least leave that baby here. I’ll keep him.”

  But Kari knew her mother was high or drunk or both, and so were her mother’s friends. She was out of her mind with worry, but she wasn’t about to leave her baby in that situation.

  She took her baby and nearly ran all the way to Miss Lucille’s.

  But Lucille didn’t know anything, either. Or, as Kari suspected, she wasn’t going to tell her anything. She hadn’t even heard about DayVon being in the hospital.

  They were at her front door, because Miss Lucille did not ask Kari to come inside. And Kari knew why. Miss Lucille didn’t approve of her and DayVon’s relationship. Miss Lucille felt DayVon could do way better than Kari.

  “Maybe you can call his mama,” Kari said, “and she can tell you something. Being that you’re the family friend and all.”

  “I’m no friend of that family,” said Miss Lucille curtly. She had an island accent too. “I was once the mother’s maid when I lived in Cecoya. They sent that boy to live with me, not because I held any affection for any of them, but because Selinda was willing to pay me to keep her son safe and sound here in America. That is the only reason I have anything to do with any of them. The money.”

  That was news to Kari. DayVon had spoken so affectionally about Miss Lucille. “What’s the name of the hospital there?” Kari asked. “At least I can call the hospital and find out what’s happening.”

  “There is no hospital on the Cecoyan island. We have to go to other islands for all of our medical needs. And they have dozens of hospitals. There is no telling which one that boy is located at.”

  “What about his cousin? I believe he said his name was Maurice.”

  “What about him? I don’t know him. Never heard of him. Now leave me alone, please. I’ve told you all I know, which is nothing.”

  Miss Lucille slammed her door in Kari’s face.

  Kari felt so helpless! She felt as if her world was crashing around her and all she could do was let it. But it was a fact of life for her at that moment in time. There was nothing she could do, nothing at all, but go back home and wait for his cousin to phone her again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When the surgeon entered the waiting room, the entire Clarke family, led by Selinda Clarke, hurried to him as if he was Santa Claus at Christmas. But their mood was decidedly downcast.

  “Tell me now,” said Selinda. She was known throughout many islands of the Caribbean as no-nonsense. The doctor knew it too.

  “He will survive this,” he said, “but not without challenges.”

  The family was happy, but cautious too. None more so than their matriarch. “What challenges?” Selinda asked.

  “Because of the trajectory of the bullet, he has suffered a traumatic, a very traumatic brain injury.”

  “Do you mean he’s brain dead?” Selinda asked. “Because if he is, kill him now. I will not allow my beloved son to live like a vegetable.”

  “No,” said the doctor, surprised by her cold response. “It’s not that at all. But his memory will be affected for certain. He may have memory loss temporarily, or permanently. We don’t know the extent yet. But be prepared for that.”

  “How much memory loss are you speaking of, Doctor?” one of Dajalla’s older brothers asked.

  “Everything from the moment that bullet entered his brain. All of his life before that moment, in other words, may be loss to him.”

  Everybody gasped. “What are you saying?” Selinda asked, her face unable to hide her anguish.

  “I am saying his life will have to restart. He may have no memory of his prior life.”

  “Are you saying he will not know anyone?” Maurice asked, his voice dripping with shock.

  “That is what I want the family to be prepared for, yes,” the doctor said.

  “Not even our mother?” asked another one of Dajalla’s three brothers.

  “Not even his mother,” said the doctor, looking at a stricken Selinda. “But it may be temporary, as I said. Something he sees or smells may trigger something within him, and he may remember everything. Just like that. Or it could be permanent loss of memory,” added the doctor, “and he will never recall anything about his life prior to last night.”

  Everybody seemed too stunned to speak. Even Selinda, who was never at a loss for words. But she was lost this time. Her sons had to help her to a chair.

  But two days later, as they all sat in a vigil around Dajalla’s bedside, it was Maurice who remembered Kari and Jordan.

  “What about the Americans?” he asked Selinda.

  Selinda looked at her favorite nephew who was now in the family business too. “What about them?”

  “I need to tell the girl something,” said Maurice. “She is, after all, the mother of his child.”

  “That bastard is not my son’s child,” Selinda said angrily. “Don’t you ever say that again!”

  Maurice felt a tingle up his spine. Selinda could do that to a strong, grown man. “No, ma’am, I will not say it ever again,” he said. “But--”

  “But what, Mo?” asked one of Dajalla’s brothers. “You heard my mother. Do not speak of it again!”

  “But I must tell the girl something. I told her I will phone her back.”

  “So what?” asked another brother. “Who cares about her and her bastard? Stop that nonsen
se at once! We want our brother back. That is our only focus right here and right now.”

  But Maurice could tell that his aunt was focused more than one way. She always was. “You have her number?” Selinda asked him.

  “Yes, Aunt.”

  “Get her on the phone,” she said.

  “But why, Mother?” asked one of her sons.

  But Selinda didn’t answer him. “Get her on the phone,” she said again to Maurice, with resolve in her voice. “We are going to use his terrible prognosis to our advantage.”

  “What do you mean, Aunt?” asked Maurice.

  “I mean, he will wake up soon and will have more than likely forgotten all of us, according to the doctor.”

  “Right.”

  “That also means,” said Selinda, “he will have forgotten his bitch and bastard too.”

  The brothers smiled. “Ah,” said one. “You are so right, Mother!”

  But Maurice was not so quick. “What does that mean?” he asked. “What are you going to do, Aunt?”

  “Get her on the phone,” Selinda said, and Maurice, knowing the wrath of his aunt all too well, did as he was told.

  As Maurice suspected, Kari answered right away.

  “This is Kari,” she said anxiously into the phone.

  Kari was in the kitchen and, thankfully, Jordan was asleep in his crib when the call came in. Ever since the night she got the first phone call, she’d been waiting by the phone while Jordan had been irritable and would not rest. He was uncharacteristically sleeping.

  “This is DayVon’s cousin again,” said Maurice.

  “How is he? Please tell me he’s okay!” Kari’s voice could not hide her anxiousness.

  “His mother wishes to speak to you,” said Maurice calmly.

  Kari was surprised. She had never spoken to DayVon’s mother, not once in their entire courtship. She knew how DayVon worshipped the ground the woman walked upon. She also knew, if Miss Lucille was any indication, how the woman would not approve of her relationship with DayVon. She sat down.

  “Hello?” Selinda had the cordless phone in her hand, as she stood over her son’s bed staring at him. Tubes were all over his head. His face was still so swollen he was unrecognizable. “Is this Kari?”

  “Yes, hi. This is she.”

  “I am DayVon’s mother.

  “Yes, ma’am. How is he? I don’t know anything. Nobody’s told me anything!”

  Selinda rolled her eyes. Americans and their emotionalism. What was Dajalla thinking? “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Kari,” Selinda continued, “but my son, your friend, has passed away.”

  Kari bent over in shock as if she had just been punched in the gut. “What?” she asked. “He what?”

  “He passed away,” said Selinda. “He had a terrible heart condition, a very weak heart, and he has passed away.”

  “But . . he was fine when he left Chicago.” She was wiping away tears. “I don’t understand. How could he have a weak heart?”

  “It’s hereditary, unfortunately. And I know it’s shocking, Kari, but it’s the truth.”

  “But it can’t be!”

  “It is, girl. You hear me? It is. Why would I lie to you?”

  Dajalla’s brother’s grinned. Maurice, however, didn’t find it amusing at all. He knew how much Dajalla cared about the chit.

  “Can I see him?” Kari asked Selinda.

  “There’s nothing to see,” Selinda responded. “In the Cecoyan tradition we bury our dead immediately. He has been cremated, and his ashes scattered.”

  The brothers grinned even more.

  “There is nothing to see,” Selinda said again.

  But Kari was beside herself with grief. This couldn’t be happening. “Mama!” she cried. “Mama!”

  It was a Sunday and Jeanene was not at work. She came running into the kitchen. “What are you screaming about, child?” she anxiously asked Kari.

  “He’s dead, Mama,” Kari said to her mother, unable to control her crying. “DayVon is dead!”

  Jeanene grabbed hold of her hysterically crying daughter and took the phone from her hands. “Who this?” she asked into the phone.

  Selinda rolled her eyes again. Not only were they American, she thought, but ignorant Americans at that! “This is Mrs. Clarke,” said Selinda. “DayVon Clarke’s mother. With whom am I speaking?”

  “You’re speaking with Kari’s mama. What’s this about DayVon?”

  “He had a weak heart, became ill and, unfortunately, has passed away. In our culture, we do not delay in the burial rites. He has been cremated and his ashes scattered.”

  Jeanene let out a loud exhale. She actually liked the boy, although she didn’t like the fact that he had impregnated her daughter. But he had potential. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said.

  “Comfort your daughter,” said Selinda.

  “I will,” said Jeanene.

  “Good day,” Selinda said.

  “But wait a minute!” said Jeanene. “What are we going to do about our grandchild, though?”

  Selinda became puffed up. “That baby is no grandchild of mine’s,” she made clear. “DayVon told me himself that the baby is not his,” she lied. “He told me himself.”

  Jeanene sucked her teeth. “I’ll bet he did,” she said. “Typical islanders. Always think they’re better. But it is his child. May girl is a lot of things, but she’s no hoe.”

  “That baby is no grandchild of mine,” Selinda said again.

  “And you can kiss my ass!” Jeanene said.

  Kari was shocked. Didn’t she realize DayVon’s mother was grieving too? “Mama, what is it?” she asked.

  “He told his mama Jordan ain’t his,” Jeanene said to Kari.

  Kari snatched the phone from Jeanene’s hand. “Jordan is his baby,” she said to Selinda. “I never been with no other boy! Jordan is DayVon’s child.”

  “That bastard is not my grandson,” said Selinda. “Now, I told you what happened to my son. I didn’t have to do that.”

  “No, ma’am, you didn’t. Thank you.”

  “That is the end of it,” said Selinda. “Do not disturb me or my family ever again. That child is no kin to me, and that is that!” And then she ended the call.

  But it didn’t feel like the end to Kari. She sat the phone back down and began crying hysterically again. She fell into her mother’s arms. She wanted to go to Cecoya anyway. She wanted to see where his ashes were poured. She had to have another piece of DayVon. That couldn’t be the end of him. That couldn’t be all there was of him!

  But what was she going to do? She was sixteen, poor, and powerless. What was she going to realistically do?

  She tore away from her mother, ran to Jordan’s crib, and picked him up into her arms. He was still sleeping so peacefully, as if that dread that had consumed him all before, was no more.

  Like his father.

  Tears would not cease from falling down Kari’s small, anguished, devastated face, as she held her boy as tightly as she could.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  2019

  Fifteen Years Later

  The SUV drove slowly toward the civic center. It was graduation night at Jordan Drakos’s private middle school, and Jordan sat quietly in his pristine cap and gown. His mother, Kari Grant-Drakos, sat on the seat beside him, holding his hand. His uncle, Oz Drakos, sat on the opposite side of Jordan, holding his other hand. They both were so proud of him they could hardly contain their emotions. And they both were angry at Alex.

  When Jordan let out a harsh exhale, Kari, already concerned, looked at him. She knew her nervous son too well. “It’s alright, J,” she said. “It’ll be alright.”

  “But it’s getting later and later,” Jordan said, pushing his glasses up on his handsome brown face, “and we haven’t heard not one single word from him yet. Why does he keep doing this?”

  “He’ll be there,” Kari said. “Stop worrying, you hear me? He said he’d be there, he’ll be there,” she added.

>   But Jordan was still not convinced. Kari saw it all over his face. She squeezed his hand. “He’ll be there, Jordan,” she said firmly.

  “No he won’t,” said Jordan.

  “Yes he will,” said Kari, refusing to ever give up on Alex.

  Jordan looked at his uncle, Alex’s kid brother, as if he wanted him to prove him wrong by giving him something to hold onto. Oz, after all, knew Alex far longer than either Jordan or Kari.

  But Oz was unconvinced too. “No he won’t,” he said, and Jordan leaned his head back. The biggest night in his educational career to date, and his brand new adopted father wasn’t even going to be there. Jordan closed his eyes tightly to conceal his deep disappointment.

  Kari stopped looking at her son and looked at the dark road in front of them. She understood their misgivings. Alex had been attempting to close major deal after major deal, only to have each and every one of them fall apart in the end. But with every new deal he had to strike because the prior deal fell through, he was on the road and out of town again. She understood how they felt. But she knew Alex. There were limits to his neglect. She and Jordan were his limit.

  “He’ll be there,” she said again.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The big, white Boeing 787-8 touched down on the tarmac and taxied its way to a smooth stop. The driver and the bodyguard inside the waiting limousine got out and buttoned their suit coats.

  “Wonder what one of those jokers cost?” Mikey, the driver and youngest of the two men, asked.

  “It costs money, that’s what it costs,” said Rocco. He was old to the game. He’d been on the big man’s staff for nearly a decade. “More money than you and I will ever see in our lifetimes. That’s what it costs”

  Mikey lit a cigarette and continued to stare at the private plane. “One of these days I’m gonna hit the jackpot, too, and get me the biggest jet they make. Bigger than even that bad boy there. You wait and see. I’ll hit it big just like Drakos, one of these days.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure you will. Just like every punk bastard this side of living said they’d hit it big too, and haven’t hit shit.”