The Land of the Lou's Page 2

  “I feel you, man,” he whispered to himself. “We two niggas from Baltimore in the middle of nowhere.”

  ****

  Holding a Glencairn whisky glass against his lips, Banks strolled down the spacious luxurious hallway of his mansion. The white linen short sleeve shirt he wore was slightly open; showcasing his muscles and the large tattoo of raven wings that covered the surgery scars he had at eighteen, to remove his breasts.

  Still, he knew he was king.

  Inebriated, his steps were a little rocky as he moved but his swagger allowed him to stay on his feet.

  This dining room was spectacular.

  The automatic ceiling was open and showcased the brilliant stars above the silver and gold dining room tablecloth that hosted an array of Spanish cuisine meals. There was lamb, fish, rice, potatoes and vegetables. And along the center of the table were four gold candelabras, which flickered with fire.

  Bet was on the opposite end of the table, Spacey was on the left and Joey was on the right. They were also dressed in white and the moonlight from above along with the glow from the candlelight made their skin glimmer.

  Placing his glass down, Banks took his position at the head of the table.

  For a moment he thought about how things used to be, when the Lou’s joined them for dinner. But now, despite being amongst so much beauty, he felt further away from his family. He felt further away from himself. And when he looked into his wife’s eyes, even from a far, he could feel their disconnection widening.

  Rosa, the matriarch of the Nunez family, walked up to Banks and refreshed his whiskey glass. Her grey and black hair was brushed up into a neat ballerina bun. Her features said she was innocent but her presence spoke of darker times that not even Banks was aware of. Even her smile was fixed…like a picture on a wall.

  The agreement, between the Wales’ and the Nunez family although respectful, was serious. Banks required that each of them care for his family and handle all chores, and in return he would give them a modest salary and a place to stay for the rest of their lives. Both families he was certain would grow in size and with Banks as the anchor, they would create an island of people who would love and respect each other for who they were, and not their pasts.

  He forgot one part.

  In order to build a better future, you must acknowledge and understand the history.

  “Thank you,” Banks said to Rosa. “Everything looks beautiful tonight.”

  “My pleasure, sir,” she looked at him and then the other Wales members. “Would you like anything else?” As with other members of her family, her Hispanic accent was thick and full of culture.

  “We’re fine.” Bet grabbed a wine bottle from the ice bucket on the table. Mounds of crushed ice fell into the bosom of her breasts as she poured the burgundy liquid down her gullet. Red lines wiggled down the sides of her face before stopping at the center of her ear.

  He was disgusted.

  She was a mess.

  “Uh, yes,” Banks said looking up at Rosa, holding her fragile wrist aggressively. Also drunk, he wasn’t as smooth as he was in the past. “Why don’t you and your family join us for dinner tonight?”

  Her eyes widened with surprise and delight at the same time. Since they’d all been on the island together, it was as if he was doing his best to keep the families separate. The poor versus the rich. The powerful vs. the weak. The Wales’ vs. The Nunez’s.

  So what brought about the change?

  “Are you…are you sure, sir?”

  He nodded.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll get my family right away,” she placed the whiskey bottle on the table and tiptoed with expediency out of the room, as if worried he would change his mind.

  Within two minutes the Nunez family was present.

  The first to enter was Rosa’s husband, Ives. Shorter in stature than his 5’7” wife, he was a bundled mess of a man who always seemed on edge. Behind him came twenty-eight-year-old Tobias, a workhorse by nature, he was cold. A handsome young man who screamed confidence and sex appeal. In America he would be an extreme catch knocking many women out of their Ugg boots.

  Next was twenty-one-year-old Cassandra and nineteen-year-old Emetine who was so beautiful; to insecure women their looks would be considered offensive. Their thick black luxurious hair dripped over their shoulders and they exuded sex in more ways than one. Through their eyes, the way they moved and even the things that they said. These Spanish mami’s were bred to seduce.

  Then there was fifteen-year-old Roxana who Banks assumed was mute because she never spoke. Still, she was far from dumb. The little girl, although quiet, saw it all.

  Finally there was twenty-two-year-old Oswalda. Weighing in at over 250 pounds for her 5’5” frame, she was a big girl but it didn’t block her beauty. She was fully aware how to work the curves of her body, and as a result her boobs and ass were initially the first things you saw when she entered the room. But it was her eyes that gave her intentions away. Most of the time to her disadvantage.

  As Emetine sat closely to Spacey and Cassandra sat next to Joey, since they had already been acquainted, the rest of the Nunez family found available seats around the luxurious table.

  When everyone was in position, Banks smiled and just like that, his table was filled with bodies, the way he preferred it.

  Raising his glass, he stood up and looked around at the blended people. “From here on out, this is how I want it to be. The Wales and the Nunez family together, on this beautiful island, making a life for ourselves.”

  He took a sip and seat.

  Cassandra gripped Joey’s hand in excitement of the news. To be in the company of kings was a beautiful thing.

  Emetine kissed Spacey on the cheek.

  And Oswalda glared at her siblings.

  But it was Bet who made quite a spectacle, by laughing loudly.

  He glared at her from across the table. “Fuck so funny?”

  “You funny, nigga,” she said as spit mixed with wine flew from her lips. “Always using people as pawns. Placing…placing people in position for your games. What is it, Banks Wales? Do you hate yourself so much that you need faces around you to prevent you from seeing your own?”

  His jaw twitched.

  “I…I don’t care what you do,” Bet continued, standing up before meeting her seat again quickly with a loud thud. Her ass cheeks stung a little but she was too drunk to stop while she was ahead. “You ain’t gonna find peace until you deal with your own shit, boss.” She giggled.

  “Bet, I’m warning you.”

  She stood up again and Spacey quickly moved toward his mother. But she stopped him with a palm in his direction. “I’m fine, son. I been standing…standing on my…own since…we got to this dreaded place and I’ll stand on my own now.”

  “Ma, sit down,” Joey begged. “Please.”

  She planted one hand on the table and the other on the wine bottle. Her dress fought desperately to shield her nakedness but it was struggling. Slithering down her shoulder like a snake.

  “I will not, because I know…I know what he doing,” she pointed at Banks with the spout of the bottle. “And no matter how…how hard you try, Banks Wales,” she burped, “You can’t replace my son and daughter. And you can’t replace the Lou’s. Your precious fucking Lou’s, that you always loved more than you did your own people.”

  “Sit the fuck down, Bet,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “No!” She yelled. “You sit down.” She stumbled again and just like that, the boys saw their mother’s breasts for the first time since they were babies.

  And with God’s grace, both prayed they’d never see them again.

  Always on duty, Oswalda quickly stood up and helped Bet reclaim her honor, by shielding her breasts with her bare palms. “Come with me, Mrs. Wales.” She said holding her firmly against her plush body. “Don’t you worry about one thing. I have you.”

  Banks was vexed at his wife’s crass behavior.

  It had only been a matter of days and it appeared that overnight Bet had begun to unravel before his very own eyes.

  He understood why she was upset.

  Of course he did!

  He was hurt that their kids weren’t with them too. But it wasn’t like he didn’t have people scouring the wreckage of the Lou Estate for Minnie. And it wasn’t like he didn’t hire pariah in the prison that held Harris, to be sure they would be reunited soon and that he would remain safe. He hated her for not being patient and her weakness made him question making her his wife.

  After she made her sloppy exit, he flopped in his seat and drank what was left of the whisky. Every eye was upon him, each secretly wondering if the man, who was considered their king, could bring things under control.

  “All is well,” he assured them, pouring a little more into his cup. Smiling widely than he normally had in the past, he took a deep breath. “Now…let us eat!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The ocean was tranquil as it lapped the beach.

  Mason was in a peaceful sleep on a bed of towels in the back of the shed, for a moment without a care in the world. Where he was positioned, even if someone walked inside, they would have no reason to go all the way to the back. So he was tucked away just right. However if they went too far, their brains would be splattered behind them because he had no intention on being caught.

  When he heard someone walk inside, he grabbed his gun within reach and aimed. With eyes on who was present, he wiped a hand down his face, placed the gun down and sighed.

  It was Oswalda.

  Standing in front of him holding a plate of food, she grinned. There was something she wanted from him, although she had yet to express it fully within their brief time of getting to know one another. However, outsiders looki
ng in would believe her motives to be sexual. Having changed up for the evening, she was now wearing a pink chiffon dress that showed the soft folds of her skin but more importantly her thick breasts.

  “You look so peaceful,” she said, with her heavy accent. “I wish I could be as free as you.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Your big pretty ass scared the fuck outta me. Luckily for you I didn’t squeeze.”

  She closed the door and handed him the warm plate of food. Sitting in front of him yoga style, her flower opened just enough so he could see her intentions if he craved a little pussy with dinner.

  Sitting up straight, he dug into the meal with his fingers, scooping first rice, followed by meat. “I see what you doing.” He chewed heavily. “But I ain’t buying.”

  She smiled and closed her thighs a little upon hearing the rejection. “I ain’t selling.”

  He looked at her open tunnel. “Sure ‘bout that?” He shoveled more food into his mouth.

  She sighed. “Tell me again. About America.”

  He shrugged and folded a slab of lamb into his mouth. The man wanted to eat. Not speak on tales of dope, hustlers and the women who loved them. “What you wanna know?”

  “Everything.”

  He shook his head. “I keep telling you that the best in life is right here,” his mouth was full of food. “On the beach you have peace. The air is fresh and you can always—”

  “Why am I helping you again?” She glared. “You won’t humor me. You won’t tell me who you really are. Just what exactly am I getting out of this relationship?”

  He smiled and continued to eat. “Maybe you should make clear what you’re after. Start there. Because the way you acting, you look desperate.” His brash way of speaking to her brought her great discomfort.

  “I’m not desperate,” she spat. “I’m helping because I caught you in here, without the boss knowing and you needed help. And you promised me you would tell me about America if I brought you food and—”

  “I’m not your hero,” he said putting his plate down while brushing his hands together. “If you looking for that you—”

  Suddenly, she stood on her knees and slapped him. “Then you lied!” She said pointing in his face. “You fucking lied and I can’t stand liars, mister!”

  The tension in the shed grew thick.

  Mason’s nostrils opened and pulsated as he shot daggers her way. Slowly he rose and she did the same. The moment they were on their feet, toe to toe, he stole her in the mouth as if he were Floyd Mayweather. Helping her up by her dress, he stole her again.

  “You act like a spoiled princess instead of a maid,” Mason eyed her closer. “Who are you?”

  “I hate you!”

  He chuckled. “Like I said before…American niggas ain’t no place for you to keep your dreams.”

  As her lip swole before his eyes, she moved toward the door. “I wonder what Banks will say if he finds out you here.” She cried, blood pouring down her mouth and onto her pink chiffon dress. “I don’t know who you are, but if you hiding I know he don’t want you here.”

  He smiled, sat back down and grabbed his plate. “Do what you feel the need to do. But start with getting the fuck up out my face.”

  ****

  Tucked in a small house in Landover, Maryland, Jersey was cleaning dishes after the huge meal she prepared for Dragon, Derrick, Patterson and Howard. Most of her family was present, with the exception of her husband but she was very worried. Mainly because Arlyndo wasn’t home, and all she could do was pray that he was fine.

  After she put the final dish on the rack, Dragon walked up behind her and placed his hands on her waist, before kissing her softly on the side of her chin. She quickly turned around and looked up at his vanilla colored face.

  “What are you doing?” She whispered, looking around him, and into the living room where her sons sat watching TV. Luckily none of them appeared to see the disrespectful move. “You can’t do this…especially not in front of my children.”

  “Men…” he said. “They’re men, start treating them that way.” He paused. “Besides, I’m not doing anything. Except saying thank you for the meal.”

  “Well don’t touch me like that,” she said firmly. “Ever.”

  He took one step back and shook his head. He was agitated but he was trying desperately to place his bully back in the cage, where it couldn’t hurt anyone. “You gonna help me?”

  “Now?”

  He walked away.

  Wiping her hand on the dishtowel, she placed both palms on the sink and took a deep breath. All of her life she found herself in the company of men who took more than they were willing to put back in her life, and Dragon was no different.

  “Help me, God,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I have the strength to go through this again.”

  Tossing the dishtowel on the sink, she walked into the bedroom. Derrick, who was wearing a bandage over his amputated toe, watched as she disappeared from sight.

  As Dragon sat on the edge of the bed, Jersey walked to the closet and removed a set of blue slacks. She placed them on the mattress, dropped to her knees and helped him remove his jeans. Next, with him looking down at her, she placed each of his legs into the pants.

  Just like when they were kids, he seemed unable to do the simplest of chores on his own, whenever she was near. For a moment she wondered how he got along without her in the years gone by and then he remembered seeing the name Megan on his cell phone when they were sleep in bed.

  Did she do all of the things he wanted, too?

  When he stood up, she walked to the closet and grabbed his blue police uniform shirt and placed it on him, brushing invisible dust off his shoulders. As he zippered his pants and buttoned his shirt, she grabbed his gun belt and slipped it around his waist. All while he smiled at her, with extreme satisfaction.

  “I’m happy you’re here,” he said. “And I know you don’t like to talk much about whatever this is between us, but it’s important for you to know how I feel. I never got to do that before when we were together and it was my biggest regret.”

  “Is that your only regret?” She grabbed a brush and stroked his brown hair into submission. “Because I have many.”

  His eyes were penetrating and she wondered if he heard anything she said. “It feels like it did back in the day when—”

  “This is temporary,” she said looking up at him, directly into his eyes. Something she never would’ve done back in the day. “This isn’t my home. You understand this don’t you?”

  “I know,” his smile was as tight as a stretched rubber band, ready to pop on her ass. “I just need you to realize that you can stay with me as long as you want. With me you will always have a home and you will always be safe. Without me I can’t guarantee your safety or your sanity.”

  That was a threat.

  And she heard it loud and clear.

  “I know you’re protecting me, Dragon, but I…” she looked down. “I…I can’t stay here. You keep saying you understand but your words…how you treat me in front of my children, tells me you feel differently. I’m a married woman. You must remember that. We talked about this all before. Me and my sons are here just until—”

  “Men!” He snapped. “Why can’t you call them who they are? You put everything on the line for them, as if they’re still children. You weaken them that way, Jersey.”

  She blinked. “I will always look at them like boys. I will always treat them like they are my babies, in a way I wished someone did for me when I was a kid.”

  “They’re men,” he repeated, wanting to shoot each of them, so that he’d never have to talk about them again. “Not boys and not children.”

  She nodded. There was no use in talking to him. He had his opinion, which he would protect at all cost. And she held hers. For the moment it was best to leave the matter alone.

  He wiped her hair back and kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” he frowned as he walked into the bathroom.

  When the door was closed, he locked it and stomped toward the mirror. Opening it, he removed the backing from the lowest wall in the cabinet. Placing it on the sink, he withdrew a revolver out of a secret compartment. With the weapon in his hand, he sat on the edge of the tub. As slowly as possible, his finger moved over the trigger and he swallowed the lump in his throat. With his index finger over the trigger, he pressed it down and…