Jamal

Phone in hand. I smiled at the text my man Derek had sent me. My smile didn't last long though. I was too wound-up. Thursday. The Day Freda gatz would get her sentencing for shooting me…well aiming for luscious but like the idiot I was I still jumped in the way to save him. and though I've made out like I've forgiven Freda well. I haven't. I nearly lost my legs because of her. Though I must admit, I wasn't expecting to be quiet so nervous. I knew for certain she would keep her distance in the meantime. What I mean is, I almost knewfor certain. But It was the almost that was a killer. Between facing her in court and filing a restraining order, there was a world of possibilities. If luscious stepped out of line, then she would be out for blood- anything could happen which could put her in a shit mood which she would take out on my family. Hell she could even be planning her revenge right now- for all I knew.

Don't be a plank- she won't come near your mom won't allow it…neither will luscious.

It was simple. She had to stay away. There was no other choice. She came near me she would go straight inside no questions asked with a longer sentencing. And I wouldn't hide from Freda gatz forever.

You'll be okay. . .

Positive thinking. I tried to dredge up confidence from somewhere deep inside. Then felt like even more of a plank and stopped trying. Luscious's words from the night of the shooting ringing in my head 'you're a disappointment, you aint nothing but a disappointment and I knew that no truer words had ever come out of lucious's mouth, despite his efforts to make it up to me and pretend they hadn't been true, Luscious was full of shitty fortune cookie quotes like that. And I had, had more than an earful of them though out my life,His life lessons as he called them the things that helped him build his shining dynasty empire, my birth right…of course I had, had a few setbacks when attempting to reign, my youngest brother Hakeem had managed to fish his way into vice chairman of empire which left us all under tight wraps, but empire was rightfully mine and once I was at full strength I would do everything in my power to regain my C. . position of empire. . . whatever the costs. I looked around the dining room nervously hugging my cardigan tight around my body.

Jamal stop worrying. She'll be behind bars soon

The paranoia was just a means to an end, it was just a little slice of some of the after effects I had endured from the incident, like The night terrors, the body aches and…Freda was girl, why was I afraid of a girl a little girl, men shouldn't be afraid of women It was the other way round. I was starting to sound like luscious now. I locked my jaw in frustration and shakily got out of my chair, once Freda's sentencing was over things would be different, she be put away for a very long time. . . I'd make sure of it. my sexuality didn't make me any less of a man and I would not let anyone tell me any different.

Three impatient strides took me to the large living room window. Pushing away the expensive Persian curtains that my mother cookie had insisted on having, I stared up and down the road (I was so high up…what a long way down), the august night was already dark and gloomy. Maybe that was a bad omen- if anyone believed in such things. Out loud, I didn't.

Where the hell was everyone?

Didn't it even occur to them that I was afraid of being alone? That their actions alone had caused this? Funny how a chain of events can change your views on life.

Try not to worry. . . try not to worry. . .

The words played in my mind like a recurring phrase from a really irritating song. I wanted Freda behind bars now and if I had my way I would throw away the key. My whole life could have been wiped away with one click of that gun and that I couldn't forgive. I had flat lined. Felt my very being slipping away from me and no one had any idea how that felt. That fear of the unknown, I didn't see god… I saw darkness. Only darkness.

I let the curtain fall back into place, wiping my dusty hands on my jeans, what was it about dust on Persian curtains that made it feel almost sticky? I eyed the curtains critically. When was the last time they'd seen detergent or a washer? When was the first time, come to that? They'd been hanging there since I'd helped mom put them up, when was that? a year ago, or where abouts? Whenever I was doing house work I'd sucked them down in the vacuum a couple of times, hoping to get rid of some of the dust that way. But the nets were quite fragile. Looking around the room I wondered what I could do to pass time? Something to occupy my mind . . . something to take my thoughts off-

The doorbell rang as if on cue. I was at the door in a heartbeat, throwing it open with eager trepidation in the hopes that It was cookie.

It wasn't mom

It was Skye

I stared at her. It took a couple of seconds to register the fact that she wasn't alone. I stared down at all the contents of the buggy behind her.

'Hello Jamal.'

I didn't say a word. The baby in the buggy had all of my attention.

'C-can I come in?'

'err. . . yeah of course' I stepped to one side. Skye wheeled the buggy past me. I closed the door behind her, frowning. She stood in the hallway biting the corner of her bottom lip. She watched me expectantly like an actress waiting for her cue. But she knew where the living room was, she had been here before.

'go through' I indicated to the open space across the hallway. Following her my thoughts flittered like dancing bees. What was she doing here? I hadn't seen her in... well it had to be well over eight months and things had ended…awkwardly. What did she want?

'babysitting?' I pointed at the buggy.

'yeah you could say that' Skye said looking at the many family photos mom had placed on the window ledge, on either side of her favorite crystal vase around the room, some were of me, more were of Hakeem and dre but most were of luscious and mom before they had started empire. Skye flittered from photo to photo studying each intently before moving on. To be honest I didn't see what was so fascinating.

Whilst Skye was looking at the photos I used the opportunity to eye her. She looked the same as ever, maybe a little heavier around the abdominal area but that was all. She was dressed in leather pants and a dark blue jacket over her light blue vest top. Her lilac hair shorter than the last time I'd seen her shorter and spikier but she was stunning with the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen framed by the longest darkest eyelashes. I glanced down at the small bundle in the buggy which was staring up in fascination at the light fitting in the middle of the ceiling.

'what's its name?'

'His name is Dante.' Pause. 'do you want to hold him?'

'no. I mean, err…no thank you' the words came out in a panicked rush. Was Skye ill or something? I couldn't nor did I want to hold a baby. And she still hadn't said what she was doing here. Not that I wasn't pleased to see her (my old…friend). It'd just been a while that was all. Skye had left Chicago over eight months ago and I hadn't seen or heard from her since. As far as I knew no one had not even the press.

And now she was in my house.

As if reading my mind Skye said, 'I went away to live in L.A. I'm back for a day visiting a friend and, as I was passing by I thought I'd come up and say hi (she said in her horse voice) I hope you don't mind.'

I shook my head and dredged up a smile, feeling unexpectedly awkward.

'I'm going away today actually', Skye continued,

'back to L.A' I assumed.

'No I'm going on tour for a while'

'that's nice…good for you'

Silence

'can I get you something…a drink?' I said at last.

'Err some Champaign… some Champaign would be good, I nodded mutely then shifted on my heels to head for the kitchen and filled a glass of the finest Champaign I owned 'Champagne Krug'.

'There you go' I handed it to her once I got back into the large sitting room.

The glass shook slightly on its way to her lips. Skye took two or three sips then put it down on the glass table. She retrieved a box from her pocket and took out a toke, pushing it between her lips.

'D'you mind if I smoke?' she asked, the flame from her lighter already approaching the cigarette end.

'Err. . . I don't but cookie will. She's an anti-cigarette fascist and she'll be back soon.'

'how soon?' Skye asked sharply.

I shrugged. 'I'm not sure'

Why the urgent tone to her voice? For a second time there she looked almost. . .panicky.

'Oh, OK. Well, the smell will be gone by then', said Skye, lighting up anyway.

Damn it. To tell her the truth, I wasn't keen on cigarettes either. Skye drew on the cigarette like she was trying to suck all the tobacco down her throat. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then a rush of swirling grey vapor shot out of her nostrils. Minging. And the smell was already filling the room. I sighed inwardly. Cookie was going to do her nut.

Skye opened her eyes to look at me, but didn't say a word. She inhaled the cigarette again like it was an oxygen tube and her only source of air.

'I didn't know you were the type to smoke… especially because your singing career'

'I started nine and a half months ago. It's one of the few pleasures I have left', said Skye.

We regarded each other. The silence stretched between us like taut elastic. Jesus Christ. What was I supposed to say now?

'So how are you? What you been doing in L.A' it wasn't much but it was all I could think of to ask.

'I've been looking after Dante' Skye replied.

'I mean, apart from that?' I persisted a little desperately. A slight smile curved on the corners of Skye's mouth. She shrugged but didn't reply. She turned her head to carry on looking around the room.

Silence.

The baby sneezed.

Some noise to break the scratchy silence. Thank goodness for that.

'what about you' Skye asked, removing the baby from the buggy and cradling it in her arms. Moving the cigarette to the left side of her mouth as she did.

'what've you been up to?' her eyes weren't on me though. She was looking into the face of the tiny thing in her arms. The thing cooed, it's small face scrunching up about to cry before she hushed it holding it closer to her.

'what are your plans. . . after Freda (I cringed at the mention of that bitch's name) I heard about that on the news' for the first time since she'd arrived, she looked directly at me and didn't immediately turn her gaze away. And the look in her eyes was startling. Her face hadn't changed that much since the last time I'd seen her. But her eyes had. They seemed. . . older somehow. and sadder. I shook my head. There went my imagination running off in all directions again. Skye had aged the exact amount of time I had.

'I'm waiting on Freda's sentencing' I said. I'm supposed to find out the dates tomorrow.'

'are you worried?'

'No' I spat quickly composing myself then crossed my fingers holding them up 'Hopefully they put her away for a while, she just another messed up kid from the hood so she's never going to change jails the best place for her' Skye smiled.

'amen' She deadpanned nodding her head 'that sounds more like the Jamal I know'

I shrugged. 'Someone needs to make sure she pays for the pain she's caused'

'And that someone is you?'

How pompous must I have sounded? Embarrassed I smiled. 'didn't you know Jamal Lyon is only my earth name. on my home planet I'm known as Jamal-eon, fighting for cause, justice, gay pride and great music for the world'.

Skye shook her head her lips twitching. 'I'm begging to remember why I used to like you so much'.

Used to? Past tense?

She glanced down at the now sleeping baby in her arms.

'I've had other things on my mind since you dropped our album Jamal'.

'Like'.

'Like Dante for one.'

'who's baby is he? Is he a relative?'

Just at that moment, the baby started to grizzle. Hell! It sounded like the thing was winding up for a long ball.

'his diaper needs changing', said Skye 'hold him for a second. I need to get rid of my toke'.

Skye thrust the baby at me and was already turning so I had no choice but to take it. She heads out of the room and made her way to the kitchen. Getting rid of her cigarette was now academic. The whole room stank.

I held the baby at arm's length. It could have been older than a week maybe a few at max, pulling my head like a turtle to put maximum distance between me and the thing. There was of a running water from the tap, then the bang of a bin lid snapping shut. My hearing was switched up to maximum as I waited for the second I could pass the thing back in my hands.

Skye re-entered the room. With a practiced hand, she opened the outsized navy-blue bag hanging on the back of the buggy, and removed a pale yellow plastic baby mat decorated with multicolored flowers. She lay it down on the ground smoothing it out. Next came the disposable wipes. With a rueful smile, Skye took the small being from my unresisting hands. My sigh of relief was unintentionally audible. But damn! I didn't particularly want to do that again in a hurry. I watched as Skye knelt down on the expensive wooden floor to lay the baby gently onto the plastic mat. Whilst I opened the windows. Skye started talking a heap of rubbish and shushing the hiccupping infant,

And it was getting worse. Stricken, I watched as Skye undid the white all in one baby-gro and, gently extracting the baby's legs from the outfit. She wasn't seriously going to change the baby's nappy on my floor, was she? It looked like she was and I wanted to stop her but what could I say? I watched in horror as Skye undid the diaper.

urgh!

It was filled to overflowing with poop. Sticky, nasty, uber-smelly baby poop. I was amazed I managed to hold down my dinner. But I backed up and backed off double fast. I couldn't have moved faster if the nappy had suddenly sprouted legs and started chasing me around the room.

'you should watch this', Skye said 'you might learn something'

Yeah, right!

'it's quite straightforward', sky continued. 'you lift up his legs slightly by the ankles till his ass is off the diaper, then wipe him until his nice and clean.' Skye dropped the wipes in the solid diaper.

'then you whip out the old ass diaper and place a brand new clean one under his feet. After that you just fasten it like this, making sure it's not too tight and not too lose. And make sure the diapers the right size. It's so simple even you could do it'

'yes but why would I want to, I won't ever have too either women aren't my specialty remember?' I laughed nervously

I mean duh!

After placing the soiled diaper in the orange bag and tying a knot at the top of it, Skye refastened the baby-gro before holding Dante to her gently. The baby's impossibly long eyelashes (which were abnormally long for a newborn baby) fluttered against its cheeks as its eyes closed. Skye handed me the soiled diaper bag. I recoiled in horror.

'could you put that in the trash please?' she smiled.

'err. . . the kitchens is in the same place. Please Help yourself.'

'would you mind holding Dante?'

Oh god. poop or baby? A baby or poop?

I took the diaper out of the Skye's hand, holding it at arm's length between my thumb and index fingertip. I started off carrying it gingerly but decided that speed would be better. So I sprinted to the kitchen as fast as my broken body could take me. Dropping it into the trash can, then washed my hands in the kitchen sink like I was scrubbing to perform surgery. I headed back to the sitting room, Skye's laughter ringing in my ears. Skye looked at me and smiled her eyes crinkling in amusement. I didn't quiet see what was so funny but Skye's toothy grin brought back a rush of unbidden memories, things that I hadn't exactly forgotten, but memories id buried somewhere where they were easily accessible. I sat down more puzzled than ever. What was Skye doing here? Just passing didn't quiet ring true somehow.

'Skye, why. . .?'

'shush. His fallen asleep' Skye whispered placing the infant back in its buggy and she was so gentle the baby didn't stir once. Skye straightened up, biting repeatedly on one side of her bottom lip. I remained seated. Abruptly as if deciding something on the spur of the moment. Skye dug into her oversized baby bag and withdrew a folded sheet of beige pink paper.

'Read this,' she said thrusting the paper at me.

I hesitated. 'what is it?'

'read it.'

Frowning I took it from her unresisting hand and unfolded it.

Certificate copy of an entry pursuant birthplace death registration act 1953

Child name and last name: sex: male

Dante Malcolm summers

Father:

name and last name:

Blank

Place of birth:

Blank

Occupation:

Blank

Mother:

Name and last name:

Skye Juliana Anya summers

Place of birth:

Hell's kitchen New York city, New York

Occupation:

Pop artist

I stared at her. 'you. . . you're the baby's mother?' skye nodded slowly. 'Jamal, I... I don't know how to say this well without. . . just saying it.' She didn't have to say anything. The birth certificate explained so much and so little. Skye had a baby. . . she was a mom. I had trouble taking that in. Skye had a KID!

'Jamal, I need to tell you something. . .' Skye had only just started her career in the music industry how could she be so stupid as to get pregnant? Hadn't she head of plan b? (the pill) kids were for people in their late thirties who had accomplished their dreams, and had mortgage's, steady jobs and serious p's in the bank. Kids were for people who didn't have anything else to do with their lives.

'Jamal are you listening?'

'huh?' I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea that Skye had, had literally just had a baby.

Skye took a deep breath, closely followed by another.

'Jamal you're the father. Dante's our son'