Puzzling Pieces

Chapter 14

“You’re his grandson!” I’m on this stolen ride with no real idea of where I’m going. But I have Robbo on my mobile line with 35% battery life and his directions to his rented crib which is close to a tricky area of the Bronx. I personally think the rumors of looking at a brother the wrong way and losing an eye-ball ring true when I think that Viv warned me about that white line that you just don’t cross. 

And what he meant by that white line is that it segregates the rough from the rougher because no federal highway would make the extra yards to see that the roads get a decent seeing to. It’s hazardous for cars with the small cracks in the roads and possibilities of having a punctured tire coming to anybody’s way if they chance it. It was a purlieu neighborhood where you could get shafted for treading on a sneaker.

But here is where Robbo chose. “Of all places to stay. Especially as you’re a boy who likes that middle-class lifestyle. Of all the places, you choose here?” I’m passing that white line where the infrastructure department still needs to give it a tax payer’s look-over. That’s where the money is meant to get going too. But here I am, looking at the s**t-hole that … “Robbo, you there?”

“I am. I just figured you wanted to continue blasting on at me for having some money. Where did you go? Why did you leave the funeral?”

“I’ll explain when I get there.”

“I need some answers to my questions right now. You should know that I needed your backup. I had some shady sorts hovering and they were asking a load of questions about Viv that only you would know.”

“Like what?”

“You should know. Apparently, you know where he was actually killed!?”

“Robbo …” –

He cuts me off. “And where the hell is Elisha? I’ve been trying to book a cab off him.”

“I’m close. You said it was by … where’s it by again?”

“You can’t miss it. It’s 50 – yards straight. It’s like one long road until you get to the traffic lights that stay red for way too long.” I get to those lights. “And when you have to give right-of-way, you’ll find that your fellow man wants to let you go instead. Because his own lights stay red for far longer.” Roboo is right: these lights need technical help.

I eventually turn down a road where a detached home sits right on the edge with a mowed front entrance. This one-level home looks like a self-made log cabin with a bench on the front porch and a window above it that easily gives way to the kitchen with the slightly drawn curtain. I see more of these one-level homes, only, they get worse and worse with some trying their best to stand upright. I think if a hurricane hit, those homes wouldn’t be standing anymore.

“Which home is yours?”

“You’ll see me. I think I see your car coming … yeah, that’s you.” I catch a glimpse of Robbo walking into a home that shares the same image as all the others scattered around it: pretty darn ugly to look at from where I sit. A remodeling job wouldn’t save it from being a vertical debris. The only individualities are the placement of doors, windows, smaller lawns, bigger pathways, the color and paint jobs that are fading, and a couple of bicycles that lay ready to be stolen.

I park around the corner … just incase. And then I jog back a few yards to the home that Robbo walked into without thinking that how he sounded on the phone was pretty much how he reacts when I walk into that house!

I raise my arms in the air like a moving shooting range. “Close the door!” I spin-around and shut it with my elbow. When I do close it, Robbo has that muzzle on my back and I’m doing a failed press-up on the door. I see Robbo’s hand with a key: locking it and then disappearing with the muzzle once again digging in deep.

 I realized before I spun around, that in the living room ahead is a family portrait and Robbo isn’t in it. The whole family looks Spanish. “Where’d you get the gun?”

“That’s for me to know.”

“I think you found it here. It looks unfriendly in your hands.”

“You some gun expert, Sia? I always wonder where your knowledge of firearms come from.”

“I don’t have any. I just know that isn’t yours.”

“Gut feeling, huh?” -

“That’s right.” -

“I have that too. And it’s telling me that you aren’t telling me the whole truth?”

“What gives you that idea?”

“You did. When you left that party with that man.” That muzzle burns a little more on my back. I don’t need it to sizzle. “Yeah. I saw you. And I know who that cop was.”

“Then you must know that he’s no good! You should be aiming that gun at his back.”

“You’re driving his car!” -

“Because I had to flee from that pig! They’ll be after me now. No more sleeping where they can find me.”

“Why are they chasing you!?” -

“Use your head, Robbo! I do what I do because I’m damn good at it. And I don’t get paid. I’m no detective. I just … happen to find that I have a knack for solving something that doesn’t sit right.”

“Then tell me why Viv was murdered?”

“I … Y.O.M.” I blink-blink-blink. “Y.O.M.” I spell it out with an intent for each syllable to be pronounced and individually heard.

I say it with an impact to get Robbo replying with, “sounds like an acronym for you owe me.”

“No. That would have most people thinking that - like a simple payment plan. If you hear it, you think debt to pay. On the list. But I think it involves 3 important figures.”

“Figures?” I’m not getting to Robbo.

“It might just stand for the name of their group.”

“What group, Sia? I still have this gun and it’s loaded. I checked. You and Viv always thought that I wasn’t street enough. But around here, breaking into a home and stealing a gun goes amiss.”

“So, you broke in?”

“You know my record. I break into homes. Not cars.”

“You’re wasting energy on me when I know where Elisha is.”

“They have him, right?” You would think Robbo didn’t believe me.

“They sure do. And I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. But his part to play in this is murkier than he is. Elisha wasn’t 100% loyal to Viv when he chauffeured him around for the sake of the man I was meant to see today.”

“I’m going to need to know that I can trust you here?”

“Then I’ll break the ice for that, Viv was killed elsewhere. Not at the location that you found him in.”

Robbo takes a minute, but then he removes the muzzle from my gun and takes a few steps back. I turn, still unsure if he’s holding another weapon or firearm. But when I face Robbo in his black-and-red striped Adidas tracksuit: 2-lines running down until it reaches the ankles, he tells me, “I know. And that’s all I wanted to hear from you in the beginning. Because now I can tell you the truth, and what my involvement in this is.”

…

“You wanted to see me grandad?” Viv was packing when I came to see him that evening, Sia. He was going around the house: double checking to see what was valuable and what was not. He took most of his medals and trophies, some emblems and badges, and plenty of his vinyl records. The living room cabinet was partially bare. That flag was gone that he hung above the curtains that he said was given to him the day he became a lieutenant.

“I did want to see you Robbo. You know the time is coming for me to up and leave here. I think I’m decided on NYC. It just feels like the right time for me to go before things around here get too messy. I’m not myself no more. I need to uplift these boys and girls, and yet, I’m here in this ruffle with Henry and Marlon. And I haven’t seen Rodney or Carl since.”

In his hands is a photograph of 3 men: in their army suits, one of those men is Henry. But Viv looks the most established out of them all. I know the photograph that Robbo speaks of, I said Viv looked the most impressive as well. I tapped on the glass of that golden framed photograph. I tap at Viv in the middle. “That’s you,” I say this to him and he nods instead of saying yes. “That’s Henry.” He gives me another wordless yep. “But who’s this guy?”

“The man who lead Y.O.M. and guided us with specific instructions when the time had to come.”

“What instructions grandad?” By now, I’m looking at Viv with real concern because he’s a dark-skinned man whose gone fairer than snow. “Do you want to be sick or something?”

Viv recovered; handed the photograph to me and then continued to pack his things. He didn’t have much when it came to clothing. His suitcase could fit 2 – midgets inside. And his possessions barely took up any space at all. “I had to go against God’s will and my mother’s upbringing. Yes. I … I had to be a witness to a scene that was unforgivable. Even though we each held … Robbo, now that I’ve told you this you must keep it to yourself for as long as you can.” Viv was shutting the suitcase, but he hadn’t finished.

“Viv, what have you gotten yourself into?”

“It’s grandad.” He hated me calling him Viv. “I needed money to support that mother and grandmother of yours. May she sleep well for eternity – your grandmother.” Viv opens up the suitcase again: puts some old draws inside that had a few holes. I didn’t make a big deal about it. “When she died of that pneumonia in the body that she couldn’t fight.” He sadly tells the rest, “she stopped fighting. And where we were living I don’t blame her. I needed the cash Robbo. She hated me for being the equivalent of a boy, and I was tired of seeing Henry waltzing by telling me that this special service promises to make a lieutenant out of you. That’s all he said. He was going to be made into something that people would respect around here. So, I wanted that from your mother and grandmother.

And I went into this as innocent as that. Just wanting some respect and influence.” I thought Viv was going to break out into an elegy. He was appearing like a man who had a will to write and a story to tell but couldn’t. “How long are you going to be in NYC for?”

“For as long as they keep me alive.” Which was for a few years that they did.

“Please don’t talk like that grandad. Nobody is going to kill you.” Viv was upsetting me, talking like this. “You’re a positive man. Whatever you got yourself into can be worked out.”

“Robbo, the only way I’ll work this out is if you find him in time.”

“Grandad. No lie, you’re scaring me. I don’t want you dead.”

“Then when the time comes you get over here. No hesitation. I’ll write to you. And you help Sia. You help her because knowing how she stays, she’ll be on that 1st flight wanting to help me out when the hour clocks near. She’s going to need your help. Because they’ll be after her since she showed her allegiance to me.”