A Sister's Survival Page 2

  She opened her eyes. “Gamba!” she screamed. A blue SUV narrowly missed them.

  Gamba sprang into action. He maneuvered his body against Elyse and grabbed the wheel. He forced the truck to swerve. They almost hit another oncoming car; Gamba slowed the truck down. It scraped against a utility pole and came to a stop.

  Elyse screamed then sat stiffly in her seat.

  “You all right?” Gamba asked, more worried about her than the truck.

  She nodded.

  Just then the driver’s side door got yanked open. Elyse stared into the eyes of her brother-in-law. The harsh expression on Nathaniel Taylor’s face said it all.

  “What are you doing, Elyse?” he asked. “Why are you driving this truck? Why haven’t you reported to work this past week?” Nate and Burgundy owned Morning Glory, the restaurant where Elyse was employed.

  “Did you lie to us again by calling in sick when you are out here messing around with this man? Answer me, Elyse!”

  The accusations flew out of Nate Taylor’s mouth. Suddenly Elyse felt like a piece of property, a runaway slave being confronted by her master. She shrank back.

  Gamba rounded the truck and was now facing Nathaniel. Elyse slowly got out of the truck and watched.

  “What were you trying to do back there?” Gamba asked Nate. “You intentionally tried to run us off the road! Why do that, man? You crazy?”

  “I wasn’t talking to you. I’m talking to my family.” He turned to Elyse once more. “Did you hear what I asked you? Did you make up a lie about being sick just so you can hang out with some man you just met off the street?”

  “You don’t know who or what I am,” Gamba said.

  “I know exactly who you are,” Nate told him. “You’re just one of my customers. But I’m her kin. Plus, I’m her boss. I have a right to ask her anything I want.”

  “You shouldn’t even be within a hundred feet of Elyse, you spineless piece of shit,” Gamba told Nate.

  “What did you say to me? I will wipe the floor with your ass.”

  Gamba’s voice was steely. “I wish you would lay a hand on me or her.”

  The tension grew so thick that Elyse prayed to be invisible. She couldn’t believe that two grown men were fighting over her.

  When Gamba drew back his fist and aimed it at Nate’s jaw, she grabbed his arm and yanked.

  “No, Gamba, don’t. Please!” she cried out.

  Gamba lowered his hand. Though he longed to rip the skin off of Nate, he knew he could not lose it in front of the woman who’d just begun to trust him.

  “All right,” Gamba said backing off. “You’re her boss. Fine. All I can say is, she’ll return to work when she’s ready.”

  “And who are you to be answering for Elyse? You her man?”

  Gamba wanted to say yes. Elyse wanted him to say it too.

  “I’m a man, that’s what I am. And way more of a man that you could ever be,” Gamba replied. “So get back in your car and go on about your business. She’s with me right now.” He gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  “You don’t belong, young thug,” Nate said as he watched them. “You are permanently banned from my restaurant, and you need to stay out of my family’s business.”

  “Man, don’t use the family card. If you really cared about family, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You sick fuck!”

  “W-what,” Nate sputtered. “Who told you that? What did they say I did?”

  “You know exactly what you did. Sick-ass old man.”

  Elyse felt comforted by Gamba’s hug, but at the same time she envisioned Nate’s cold, hard fingers probing every part of her body . . . She remembered how he’d masturbate in front of her and then smile as he watched her reaction. . . She could not forget the wild, distant look in his eyes as her tried to coerce her to have sex with him.

  As the two men continued to argue, Elyse noticed that the car keys were in the ignition. The engine was still running.

  Elyse broke away from Gamba and got back in the truck. She shifted the gear to reverse.

  Gamba looked up, startled. “Elyse, don’t,” he said and ran toward the truck. She ignored him and put the gear shift in drive.

  All she could remember was Nate’s awful penis being shoved inside her. His cold, hard lips pressing clumsily against her mouth, forcing her to kiss him until she wanted to throw up. His gazing at her body like he owned it and she was nothing but a piece of meat.

  Elyse pressed her foot against the accelerator.

  Nate’s eyes widened in horror. The truck moved steadily toward him. Nate yelled, but Gamba jumped at the man, crashing against his body and pushing him out of the way. Gamba fell on top of Nate, who covered his head with both of his hands.

  They lay against each other for a few seconds breathing wildly.

  Gamba got up and pulled Nate to his feet. He saw to it that Nate was all right and made him vow not to make any more trouble with Elyse.

  “Leave her alone, you hear me, man? You understand?”

  Nate only nodded, thinking about what would have happened if he’d gotten hit by the truck. He had come very close to losing his life, and he never wanted that to happen again.

  “She can take all the time she needs to get herself together. I know she goes to a psychotherapist,” he told Gamba. “She’s a sick girl and needs help, all the help she can get.”

  Gamba decided to let that remark slide.

  Soon Gamba returned to his truck, opened the door, and reached in to grab Elyse. She reeled back, afraid that he was about to hit her. But he simply hugged her tight.

  “It’s okay, Elyse. He’ll never bother you again.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  She looked past his head and noticed that Nate had driven off. It felt like a miracle to witness a man as tall and as noticeable as her brother-in-law grow smaller and tinier until she could no longer see him. Yet a nagging feeling told her Gamba was wrong, and Nate would be back.

  Right then it felt like the horrible things that had happened to her would continue, as if bad times couldn’t help themselves and she was powerless to stop them.

  “Gamba, I don’t know about this. I don’t know if I can make it.”

  “Look at me. Look me straight in my eyes, Elyse.” She did.

  “You’re young but you’ve been through a lot.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I have too.”

  Her timid ways reminded him of when he was overseas, fighting a war that he did not start but one that American troops were expected to finish.

  And coming across this vulnerable woman transported Gamba Okorie right back to the war zone. He remembered the dangers of combat, the uncertainty of whether or not he’d live to see another day. Was he going to kill someone or was someone going to kill him? He had barely trusted anyone, and that helped him to understand the young woman.

  He opened his mouth, took a big gamble, and told her, “We all have been through a lot. But we’re as strong as the things we have survived. You and I have much in common. We’ve had our troubles but what’s more important is that we overcome them. And if our people survived being stolen from their own turf, being shackled to the bottom of a sea liner and living among their own feces, if they can survive being sold to a white man for less than the cost of a horse. Survive being stripped of their clothes and beaten till their skin cracked open and blood seeped from their swollen backs. If our ancestors were denied the right to read, got obstructed from attending school and getting an education, to one day earning a doctorate degree. If people can make it after being kicked to the ground, sprayed with a water hose, called a stupid nigger and treated inhumanely, to one day being sworn in as the president of the United States and the leader of the free world . . . you and me, both of us, any one of us, have everything it takes to rise up and make it in this evil, fucked-up world.”

  Gamba’s words caused hope to surge inside of Elyse’s heart and soul; this visio
n of what survival looked like. What survival could become.

  Chapter 2

  License to Marry

  Gamba and Elyse traded places. Now he was driving them away from the boulevard. The more they drove, the more she wished to distance herself from Nate, from the near car wreck, from everything. But it was tough. The day had been quite overwhelming. When she thought about how she could have actually mowed down her brother-in-law with a big truck, run over him the way a stream roller is used to level a crooked surface, Elyse slouched back in defeat. She dabbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands. She craved peace, normality, and refuge from her disastrous world.

  “Elyse, you all right?” Gamba asked. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not crying,” she claimed. She quickly patted her tears dry. Feeling self-conscious, Elyse coughed and cleared her throat. “Nate was right. I think I may be sick. I’m coming down with a cold or something,” she lied as she sat stiffly in her seat.

  “Elyse, we need a break. I think it’s time that we go see your people.”

  “See them? Like who? No!”

  “Definitely not Burgundy. But what if I take you back home?”

  “No, Gamba! Not Lita. If she knew Nate followed us, she could get him killed.”

  “Looks like you were the one trying to kill Nate.”

  “No,” she stated, again not wanting to imagine that a murderer could live inside of her. Murderers were bad. “I wasn’t trying . . . I-I just can’t drive big trucks. Told you dat. You didn’t believe me.”

  Gamba couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, you did try to warn me. I’m sorry I pushed you too hard, Elyse. Just trying to help.”

  “I know,” she replied. “It’s all right.”

  “But what happened back there is a cause for concern,” he continued. “We don’t want this guy to continue harassing you. And I think Alita would want to know about this,” Gamba insisted as they traveled down the road. “In fact, I know she would,” he said with a laugh.

  “No, no Lita. We can go to my other sister’s. Coco’s. Let’s go there.” Elyse promptly gave Gamba orders, telling him where Coco lived.

  Gamba secretly watched Elyse from the corner of his eye. She had wiped away her tears. Her jaw was rigid with determination. He liked what he saw, the beginning signs of strength.

  Soon they pulled up to the house where Coco lived with her kids Cadee, Chloe, and Chance. She was a big woman with a protruding belly, due to give birth in a couple of months.

  “Say what?” Coco said as soon as she opened her front door and saw Gamba with Elyse. “Y’all two been thick as thieves for a minute now. What’s up with that?”

  “Nothing.” Elyse was tight-lipped.

  “Oh, don’t give me that. The family ain’t seen you hang out with a man like this in what? The fifth of never.”

  “Well, you better be glad she’s hanging with this man,” Gamba said and pointed to himself as they all stood outside the house. “Because that other man that we got her away from is steadily trying to provoke her.”

  Coco eyed him warily. “Who you talkin’ ’bout?”

  “Who else?” Gamba asked.

  Coco frowned in distaste. “My brother-in-law is such a fool. Horny ass . . . that man is married. Why’s he hounding Elyse? She don’t want him, do you, Sis?”

  Elyse looked appalled. “You ask me that? Really?”

  “Yes, really. No one in their right mind would want a man like him. But Burgundy lets all his coins blind her. She knows he’s up to no good, and she still ain’t filed on him. I know you can’t stand her ass either, right? If you still have love for that woman, you’re out your mind too. Hell to the naw, naw.”

  At that, Coco waddled away with one hand lodged against her hip. She was a sassy, beautiful woman. At nearly twenty-nine years old, her main goal in life was to keep tabs on her baby daddy, Calhoun Humphries.

  “Y’all come on in before Nate does a drive-by and finds you at my spot. I’m not trying to deal with his drama ’cause Lord knows I got enough of my own right now. I’m about to drop my last baby, and after that it’s a wrap. No more scallywags for Coco!”

  Gamba and Elyse entered the dining room and were met by the strong aroma of food sitting in pots on the stovetop. Coco’s house shoes slapped against the tile floor as she walked.

  “I cooked if y’all want something to eat. Pork ribs smothered in my own barbecue sauce, mustards and turnips with ham hocks, mac and cheese, fried corn, and a bowl of fresh salad is in the fridge. Anyway, wash your hands first. I don’t play that nasty hands shit. You smell like old motor oil, both you and Elyse. What kind of freaky shit y’all be into?”

  Gamba grinned at her in appreciation. “You got jokes, huh? How about you, Elyse? You want me to fix you a plate? Coco, let me tell you, we’re tired and hungry. Been through a lot this afternoon.”

  Gamba washed his hands and had Elyse do the same. Then he prepared Elyse a plate and fixed one for himself. Everyone sat together at the dining room table while Gamba filled Coco in on the recent drama with Nate.

  “And now,” Gamba said, “things are popping off to the point of being seriously dangerous.”

  “He’s lost his damn mind,” Coco said with a frown. “He shouldn’t have to know every time my sister punches in or out at Morning Glory.”

  “I think Elyse should quit her job,” Gamba concluded.

  “Oh, you don’t have to worry about Nate trying anything at his restaurant. Burgundy and her hubby try to act like they’re aristocrats, but they really just some damned scammers. They’re not stupid enough to do anything to mess up their two-bit hustles.”

  “I don’t like him,” Elyse muttered as she ate. “He scares me.”

  “As long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe,” Gamba assured her. “But if I run, you run.”

  Coco laughed aloud, happy that Gamba was concerned enough about Elyse to protect her. Lord knows she did not have time to run behind her baby sister.

  “Elyse, don’t be scared of him. You don’t need to run from anybody,” she replied. “Knowing Nate, that man is all talk.”

  “Can you guarantee your sister’s safety, though?” Gamba asked.

  “I sure can. Nate’s a whack job but he ain’t a total crackpot. The most he can get away with is lusting after my baby sis like the perv he is.” She paused. “Did he ever expose himself to you? Whip out his dick like it was a prize?”

  Elyse stared quizzically at Coco.

  “I’m just saying, that’s what men like him do. Get their kicks off the fact that they got money and a penis. Or muscles and testosterone. I call it MPT. Muscles, penis, and testosterone. And he’s the type of man who thinks he can rule women just because he’s got all that.”

  “That’s it,” Gamba said in anger. “She shouldn’t be subjected to that type of behavior. She should quit on him with no advance notice.”

  “But see, like I said before, you don’t have to worry about any of that. My sister Alita always has her eye on Nate. She’ll pop in that restaurant every chance she gets when she knows Elyse is working. On top of that, from what I heard, Burgundy never lets Elyse work at Morning Glory when she’s not there.”

  Gamba eyed her wearily. “Burgundy! The one that knows what’s happening but hasn’t done much about it?”

  “Yep, that’s B. I don’t know what she sees in him. But like I said before, Burgundy acts sophisticated, but she’s a fool like the rest of us. We are a family of fools, except for Dru,” Coco said with a warm chuckle. “Any other woman would have left Nate’s dirty ass by now.”

  “You talking?” Elyse said, finally interrupting. “Way you put up with Calhoun but you still with him?”

  Her clapping back like that was such a rare occurrence that Coco couldn’t help but be shocked.

  “Lord, have mercy. Good one, Elyse. I see this Gamba got you all gassed up. You cracking on me? This is a side of you I ain’t never seen before. Hell, you need to pop off at Alita when she gives you a
ll kinds of hell over nothing. Keep me and my man out your mouth. We doing just fine.”

  Elyse shrugged as if Coco’s business with Calhoun really did not concern her.

  “So, if you two are doing that well,” Gamba said as he wolfed down his food. “Does that mean we’re about to get a wedding invite?” Alita had told him all the family business, including how stuck Coco was on Calhoun.

  “I dunno,” Coco replied. “Maybe you ought to see Calhoun about that. Because I sure as hell won’t be asking no man to marry me.” She paused. “Plus I’ve asked him a dozen times already.” Coco gave a boisterous laugh in spite of herself. She rose up from the table and waddled over to check on a cake she’d been baking.

  Right then seven-year-old Cadee and four-year-old Chloe raced into the room. Chance, who was two and a half, stumbled in behind them. Cadee and Chloe were Calhoun’s kids, but Chance was her “in-between” baby whom she gave birth to during a brief breakup. She never wanted anyone to know the identity of Chance’s biological father.

  “Sit your little asses down,” Coco yelled at the kids. Her children were adorable, but a handful. Chance refused to take his seat, and Coco ended up chasing behind her son, who enjoyed running in circles till his mom was out of breath.

  “You better listen to you mama.”

  “No,” Chance yelled and ran some more. Then he came to an abrupt stop. He wobbled around on his feet then slumped to the floor. His eyes rolled to the back of his head.

  “Stop playing and get up, boy. I’m not in the mood for your silliness.”

  But Chance just lay there; his skin looked ashy and yellowish like he hadn’t washed up in a good while. “Why you look all pale? I know I gave you a bath last night and you this filthy already?”

  Gamba set down his fork and went to see about Chance. Within seconds the little boy seemed to recover. Gamba asked Elyse to bring Coco’s son a glass of water. He stayed next to Chance and watched him drink until he knew he felt better.

  “You’ll be all right, little man. Hang in there,” Gamba said.