"The brotha's got this complex occupation
The brotha's got this complex occupation
The brotha's got this complex occupation
Me and this baby gon' be up all night long
Walkin' this wood flo' 'til my man gets home
I'm at the front do', I'm listening by the phone
But I'm gon' be here with my make-up on
It's been a long time since my man been gone
But when he get here, you know I won't be gone
Because I love him, love him strong
Me and this baby gon' be up all night long…"
Erykah Badu—"Danger"
Erik wiped down the modified BCM Reece 14 KMR-A. It was an expensive AR-15. He added an M203 grenade launcher with vibranium alterations. The weapon was a polished obsidian dream in his hands. He had to be prepared for the Black Panther. His own blood relative. Tainted blood.
Linda sat across from him cleaning the other weapons they were bringing with them to Korea. The closer they got to their departure date, the more serious she became. He still found it excruciating to be near her, but he treated her like he treated his past military unit that he hated, just neutral all the way.
Klaue walked into the den a watched them prepare the weaponry. Erik took that moment to grab some papers he held in a folder.
"I need you to sign these so I can get the Cessna."
"Seventy-Five thousand?" Klaue groaned.
"I can get you a new one for Three-Hundred Thousand. It's your money."
"Fine, fine."
Klaue used his alias and didn't even look at the paperwork. Just signed where Erik told him to sign and picked up the AR-15 from the work table.
"You missed your calling. You could make a killing modifying weapons full time."
"I'd get bored too quick."
Klaue's eyes looked past him and onto the viewscreen above the fireplace. He turned up the volume. Erik and Linda stared at it with him.
A weather report indicated the return of the hurricane season. And a large category 4 was headed for the islands along the Atlantic.
"I'm sure you battened down the hatches in St. Thomas, Killmonger?"
"Lock stock and barrel."
At last. A tell on Linda's face. A faint blink of her eyes. Erik caught her eyes with his as she picked up another weapon to clean.
"Looks like it'll be a bad one. Hope Our Lady is prepared for it. One of the pitfalls of island life."
Erik felt his midsection tighten. The last hurricane season had been a lucky one. He wiggled his fingers and kept the focus on the radar images and the predicted touch down points. He'd keep an eye on it. Climate change had made life tricky for people globally. It concerned Erik, but he pressed on and picked up a new weapon to inspect and clean.
Linda stared at him and his face felt open and vulnerable with worry. He looked away from her.
###
"Jesus, you can't be still can yuh?"
Yani pressed her hand into her side. The baby was moving too much for her to get fully comfortable. She sat with her legs lifted up with an ottoman in Twyla's house. Boxes stood unopened around her and she was pleased with the one small box she was able to unpack.
Moving in with Twyla had been a sound financial decision. Her lease to the apartment had become month to month, and Nannette was able to find a new roommate easily. Yani's rent money would help pay Twyla's mortgage, and in exchange, Twyla was able to work fewer hours at her job and watch Sydette so Yani could continue taking summer classes with a full course load. She didn't let her pregnancy stop her from finishing up a summer session. Her medical plans were revamped to include an additional two years to finish her degree. Her mind was set on getting into a residency program by the time the new baby was three. Her grades were exceptional but more important than school-Sydette becoming herself again.
The new baby seemed to focus her daughter's anxiety and fears, and Sweet Pea blossomed once more, so excited to welcome the new dumpling.
"Be still, just for fifteen minutes, please," Yani said to her already big tummy.
Sydette ran over to her and patted her stomach.
"Go to sleep," Sydette said.
"Listen to Sweet Pea, Dumplin'."
"Mama, yuh feet so big."
"A little swelling, love."
Sydette rubbed Yani's left foot.
"Fatty feet!" Sydette giggled.
"You gave me fat feet when you were in mi belly."
"No, I didn't!" Sydette said with a smirk on her face.
"Yeah, yuh did."
The doorbell rang and Yani didn't feel like getting up from her seat.
"Get the door, Sweet Pea. Ask who it is."
Sydette ran to the door.
"Who is it? What yuh want?"
"Sydette—"
"Your Daddy."
Sydette's face beamed.
"Can you twist the button?"
"Yes, Mama. I can do it."
The main bolt on the door was left unlocked for Twyla, but Sydette was able to turn the bottom lock.
Chez stepped into the room and scooped Sydette up in his arms.
"Detty!"
Chez tickled her stomach and Sydette laughed and tried to keep his hands from tickling her further.
"Her bag is by the door," Yani said trying to get up,
"Stay where you are. I got it," he said.
Picking up Sydette's weekend bag, Chez walked near Yani.
"You look big, gyal."
"Thanks, a lot," she said.
"I'm teasing. I'll bring her back early on Sunday."
"Okay."
"Twyla home?"
"No. She'll be back in a few hours? Why?"
"I know she's looking for a car. Wanted to see if she'd want mine."
"You selling it? Thought you loved that car."
Chez put Sydette down and raised up Yani's feet as he sat on the ottoman. He rested her legs on his lap and rubbed her feet for her.
"I'm moving to Florida. Found a good-paying factory job. Good hours. I can still make music. Perform in Miami and on the East coast. It's too expensive to ship my car over. Cheaper to get another car later when I get settled. Money will be tight for a couple of months, but I'll get Sydette's child support to you as soon as can. I have a better shot there."
Yani glanced over at Sydette who held the straps to her weekend bag on her shoulders.
"When are you leaving?"
"Next month."
Yani felt her forehead.
"You should have told us sooner, Chez."
"I just got the call. I have to go where the money is, gyal. You know that. I stay here and you'll bust my ass for not having my full child support."
He held his hands out for Sydette and she skipped over to him and rested her chest on Yani's legs.
"I'm sorry I won't be here to take Detty on the weekends. I can send for her with my sister and keep her at the end of the year once I'm settled—"
"No, this new one will be here then and I need my girl with me."
Yani scratched her belly. Chez stared at her hand.
"Ooh," Yani sighed while shifting her legs on Chez.
"Kicking?"
"Too much," she said.
Yani took in Chez's face. He looked hopeful. Ready to test his wings away from the island. It was bad enough having Sydette lose Killmonger. Now she was losing her biological father to distance and a chance at a better life.
"We will miss you," she said.
Chez's eyes seemed to spark at her words. She saw his eyes well up and she was surprised to see him cover his face with his hand.
"Chez," she whispered.
Sydette crawled up onto Yani's legs and touched her father's face.
"I'm alright Detty," he said lifting her weight off of Yani.
Yani moved her legs from the ottoman and rubbed Chez's back.
"I'm okay, Yani. You ready, Detty?"
"Yes!"
Chez stood with Sydette in his arms. Yani picked up her daughter's bag and handed it back to him.
"We'll talk later, yeah?" Yani said.
"I'll call you next week with more information. I'll be staying with my Uncle until I get my own place there. Say bye, Detty!"
"Bye, Mama."
"Give me kiss."
Sydette leaned over and kissed her on the lips.
"Give Dumplin a kiss."
Chez held Sydette upside down as peals of laughter erupted from her. She kissed Yani's belly.
Watching her daughter leave with Chez, Yani thought of how life changed in the blink of an eye all the time. She rested a hand on her stomach as she stood in the doorway tracking Chez helping Sydette into his car.
"Bye!" Sydette called while waving her hand.
"Bye, Sweet Pea. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
When they left, Yani stood and let the sun warm her face. The baby tumbled and then seemed to settle.
"I wish your daddy was here, Dumplin."
Patting her belly, Yani closed the door trying her best not to dwell on Killmonger for too long.
###
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck!
Sitting at a table inside a small Swedish café waiting for a sandwich and some decent coffee, Erik's eyes were glued to the tablet in his hand.
"Holy shit," Klaue said staring at Erik's device.
Other people in the café were staring at cell phones or their computers.
Erik couldn't believe it and he felt a cold dragging on his stomach.
He was already agitated watching King T'Chaka receive praise for his rousing speech giving support to signing the Sokovia Accords. The Avengers had made a deadly mess in Nigeria and over one hundred nations decided they needed to be regulated and controlled, and King T'Chaka's words were splashed all over the press. Public and private superheroes and other enhanced humans had to come forward and be counted, tracked, and given permission to act for good in the future. Erik was sure more vigilantes would break out, but he didn't give a fuck because Wakanda was the only thing he wanted. Once he had his father's nation in his hand, he would blow all these enhanced fools out of the water. Take them out if they couldn't bow down to him.
All Erik wanted to do was eat the perfect open-faced smoked-salmon sandwich and spend time out of the house and away from Linda and Limbano. He hadn't planned on watching his Uncle speak at the Vienna International Centre until Klaue told him that the King of Wakanda was on tv.
Regal, gray-haired, with glasses that gave him a gentle grandfatherly look, T'Chaka Udaku told the world how Ultron stole their vibranium and how his country would not stand by and let injustices continue.
The fucking audacity.
And just like that, Erik and the world watched the room explode and the cameras cut to news footage outside. Erik wanted to yell and jammed his nails into his hands to keep himself in his seat as he saw his grip on justice slip from his fingers.
Klaue's face was stuck in the firm grip of shock.
"This is going to change some things, Killmonger," Klaue said.
Words and images flew online fast and the explosion was quickly labeled a terrorist attack.
"There will be a lot of dead in that room, mate."
Rooted in his seat, it was confirmed soon enough.
King T'Chaka Udaku was dead.
Erik stormed out of the café and walked aimlessly through the street for half an hour. His personal cell blew up and when he looked to see who it was, he answered it.
"Uncle Bakari."
"Have you heard?"
"Yes."
"Are you alright? Where are you?"
Erik stopped walking and let the familiar sound of home focus him.
"I'm in Europe now. Saw the news in a café."
"How are you feeling, Nephew?"
"I don't feel nothin'…nothin' at all."
His Uncle knew he was lying. Erik's voice sounded heavy. Brittle.
"Erik…that was your Uncle, your father's brother—"
"That man ain't shit to me!"
People walking past Erik moved around him quickly because of his tone. He headed back to the café.
"I gotta go," Erik said.
"Call me later…if you want to talk. Shavonne and I are here for you."
"Okay."
Erik swiped his phone and he checked his other cell. Two texts from Klaue.
"Hey man, I'm heading back to the café. Had to take a call from home."
"I thought you were taking this explosion a little too hard, mate," Klaue said.
"Like you said, changes some things, but we'll work around it."
"I had the shop put your food in a to-go box. I'm heading back to the house. See you there."
"Cool."
Erik ignored the café and kept walking. His left hand pressed against the left side of his waist in the space he had saved to carve King T'Chaka into his skin. Stolen from him. Whoever the fuck killed his Uncle would feel his wrath eventually, but now Erik had to deal with T'Challa taking the throne.
Erik halted.
His cousin would have to take his father's body back to Wakanda. That would end all of his travels for the next few months. He'd be where Erik wanted him to be. Birnin Zana. The golden city. The terrorists had cheated Erik of one Udaku, but they had also made his endgame easier so he could have the other one. Losing his father in a violent way would have T'Challa rattled, he was sure of that. Erik knew what that felt like. A rattled King would also be a weak King. A distracted King. One who could easily be beaten.
Erik still felt a heaviness in his chest. There was fiery anger there. Something was stolen from him once more. King T'Chaka had escaped his due punishment and it sucked the energy out of Erik. When he returned to their hideout, he climbed the stairs ignoring everyone else and went to his room, throwing himself on his bed. His mind wouldn't let his body rest and he stayed up all night clenching and unclenching his fists. He tugged on the silver chain around his neck until his fingers clasped onto his father's ring.
###
The museum added additional security two days before the opening of the African Antiquities exhibit.
Linda was able to get a job as a barista there and spent a day walking the entire museum taking more secretive photos to make sure nothing had changed since Erik had surveyed it the previous year. She kept her eye on the lead curator, a grim-lipped white woman with an elitist attitude toward employees.
They hid in a flat less than a mile away from the museum. Erik planned logistics with Klaue and Limbano was able to locate a decommissioned ambulance for cheap purchase from a scrapyard. He also procured EMT uniforms for himself and Klaue.
"That woman is a fucking tyrant!"
Linda stormed into the apartment carrying take out from the corner pub. She went into her bedroom and changed clothes before rushing back out to finish her rant.
"I have never met a person with a stick so far up their ass—"
"Cutthroat museum director getting your dander up again?" Klaue heckled.
Erik and Klaue watched her fume near the window.
"She just does shit to pick on people…for no reason! Every fucking day she gets the same coffee from my section. We know how to make her beverage because she instructs us explicitly down to the most finite detail…and yet…it's never the right way. She's just contrarian for shits and giggles. Jesus, I don't know how regular people can take that day after day."
"But she always comes to you, right?" Erik asked.
"Yeah."
Erik stood up and walked over to her. Reaching into his pocket he handed her a small plastic two-inch bag. A yellowish-white powder sat inside of it.
"What is this meth?" Linda joked.
"On D-Day, put this in her coffee cup. Don't touch it with your hands."
"Fast-acting?"
"Nah. Slow burn. Timing is everything. The moment she sips, you hit me up."
Linda pocketed the poison and grabbed her take out container. She scarfed down a sausage sandwich.
"The plane is ready for Busan," Erik said.
"Limbano will take it over and secure housing," Klaue said.
"I have enough surveillance footage looped. Their security is very sensitive, so you will have a little over an hour to get in and out without them suspecting anything on their feed," Linda said.
Klaue stared at his phone.
"I'm trying to get some intel on Jo'Burg, but Huntsman has been avoiding me," he said.
Another tell.
Linda took a large bite of her sandwich and then wiped her lips as she stared at Klaue attempting to contact the dead merc. There was a lack of confidence in her eyes. A hint of…worry? When she stopped looking at Klaue her eyes darted up and Erik stood in front of her with a can of beer in his hand.
"Maybe he has another gig that he can't get out of," Erik said.
Linda's face froze, but then she reached for the beer and took it from him. He reached into her take-out container and grabbed a few fried chips. Popping them in his mouth, he kept his gaze on her, until she stood up to throw away her empty container.
"Well I need him," Klaue said.
Linda left the room and Erik turned on his laptop and studied the museum layout. The moment Linda fed the poison to the curator, Erik would have to maneuver himself into the exhibit hall, find the vibranium, and make sure the curator stayed near him. Reconnaissance video showed that she hovered throughout the space ninety-percent of the time, and if she was anal about her coffee, she would be anal about hawking his Black ass when he lingered around the room. Once she was down, they'd terminate distractors and make a body switch out into the ambulance smuggling out the vibranium. He just needed to find it quickly.
He switched his screen to the online exhibit brochure and paid attention to the pieces he suspected would be laden with the good stuff.
"What's going on with Bonnie?" Klaue asked.
"Bonnie?"
Klaue pointed to him.
"You're Clyde…she's Bonnie…for fucks sake. Bonnie and Clyde?"
Erik rolled his eyes.
"You two getting along?"
"Yeah."
"She seems distant…not distant…more like preoccupied."
Erik shrugged.
"She seems normal to me."
"Keep an eye on her."
"You getting bad vibes or something?"
"Not sure. I feel like she tiptoes around you. The usual banter between you two seems forced. Not as playful as it used to be."
"I think she's stressed because we are dealing with the C.I.A. now. A lot more hoops to jump through with them once we arrive in Busan."
"I don't think that's it."
"Want me to ask her what's up?"
"Yeah. If things are shaky—"
"I'll take care of it if it is."
Klaue patted Erik's thigh in an off-hand gesture as he stood up.
"Good boy," he said walking over to the window and pulling out a cigar from his shirt pocket.
###
Erik pulled on the non-prescription glasses once he arrived by taxi to the museum.
He made sure to pass by Linda's coffee cart as he strolled into the building. She had already looped the security feed. The morning crowd was gone and the afternoon patrons trickled in. A free public lecture on Benin art attracted a large crowd. He tapped an earbud in his right ear.
"Miss Sunshine has sipped her special brew," Linda said, "she's heading your way."
Erik slowed down and pretended to be interested in an oil painting. The museum director took another sip of her coffee and spotted Erik lingering. He eased away from the painting and headed toward the West African exhibit area. From his peripheral, he saw the director locked on him along with some suited security that tried to look discreet.
The moment he entered the exhibit hall, he steered himself to a glass exhibit displaying a few masks and metal spears. His vibram tattoo didn't itch, and the reflection of the glass showed the director's approach. Another white man in a suit and tie watched him also, his fingers clasped in front of him.
"Good morning, how can I help you?"
Her voice sounded annoyed. Erik turned his head to the left and looked at her with a smile on his face. Her eyes saw his gold slugs and he saw the internal shift she made to deal with him.
"I'm just checkin' out these artifacts. They tell me you're the expert"
"Ah, you could say that…"
Erik skillfully nudged her toward the display he was after. The itch in his gums let him know he had hit jackpot when he read the title cards. Aunt Serah was a fucking boss. Vibranium hidden as a mislabeled Fula hammer. Ole girl rubbed her stomach. Erik knew the poison was waking up in her body. She sounded so confident telling him where she thought the hammer came from. The bitch probably worked Aunt Serah's nerves.
"Nah…"
Her eyes glared at him and her mouth gave a small quirk as if she wanted to burp but couldn't.
"I beg your pardon," she said, her voice sounding surprised.
Erik gave her a quick once over.
"It was taken by British soldiers in Benin, but it's from Wakanda…and it's made out of vibranium."
The rasp in his voice startled her and she clutched her stomach a little harder.
Erik smirked.
"Don't trip, I'ma take it off your hands for you."
"These items aren't for sale."
She elongated the word sale in a way meant to put Erik in his place. The slow rise of heated anger rose in his gut. Fucking thieves.
"How do you think your ancestor's got these? You think they paid a fair price? Or did they take it like they took everything else?"
The bite in his voice startled her. He saw one of the security men inch closer to them.
"Sir I'm going to have to ask you to leave…"
Her voice stopped and she looked toward her minions as she coughed. Erik stepped in close and whispered in her ear.
"You got all this security in here watching me…ever since I walked in. But you ain't checkin' for what you put in your body."
The director gasped and looked at her coffee cup.
"Klaue and Limbano are in position," Linda said in his ear.
Erik smiled.
"C'mon mate…"
A security guard tugged on Erik's jacket, pulling him away from the distressed director.
"I think she might not be feelin' too good…"
The director dropped like a pile of bricks hitting the floor.
"Jam those phones, Linda," Erik whispered.
Erik called for help loudly as three security men surrounded the director on the floor.
"Klaue, Limbano…you're on deck," Linda said.
Less than five minutes later Klaue and Limbano came running in with a stretcher.
"Step back please, gents, step back please," Klaue yelled.
The guards ushered museum-goers toward the exit in the opposite direction. Erik lingered and watched Klaue.
Pistols with high-grade silencers were used to take out two of the guards. Klaue toyed with the third giving the man false hope of survival.
"You can go, but just don't tell anyone, alright?"
Klaue winked at the guard and the man took off running. He let him get twenty feet away before he nickeled the man's brains. The body fell hard.
"Bruh, why you ain't just shoot him right here?"
"Because it's better to leave the crime scene more spread out…makes us look like amateurs."
"I'll meet you guys outside," Linda said in his ear.
"Let's do this," Erik said, guiding Klaue to the vibranium.
Klaue took off the glove on his prosthetic hand and held it up to the exhibit. A sonic pulse shattered the glass and Klaue grabbed the Wakandan hammer. He used his pulse sensors to gently shake off centuries of rust and grit and history. He smelled the metal and laughed.
"You better sell that quick."
"Oh it's already sold," Klaue said bragging. He broke the handle off of the tool and glanced at Limbano to move.
A mask caught Erik's eyes.
He moved over to the standing display and leaned down to look it over carefully.
Regal horns crowned the top as intricate and very detailed carving told a bold story on the blue and steel gray stained wood. The title card said "Warrior Mask, Benin 17th Century". Erik snatched the mask off the metal rod it sat on.
"You're not telling me that's vibranium too, eh?"
"Nah, I'm just feelin' it."
###
Yani's favorite part of laundry day was pulling clean clothes out of the dryer and then folding them. Especially when she tossed in a laundry freshener sheet and everything smelled extra clean.
A clean rain fell outside as she put away Sydette's clothes and her own. She had even washed some of her daughter's old newborn outfits that she would use for Dumplin.
Sydette was sound asleep on her bed in the room she shared with Yani, and once everything was put away, Yani waddled out to the living room where Twyla was braiding Leona's hair and watching tv.
Yani stepped into the kitchen to make herself some fresh cocoa on the stove. She put milk in a saucepan on low and closed the kitchen window. The baby was resting easy inside of her. The day had been a calm one lugging that child inside of her around. One day she would see her feet again and be reacquainted with her toes.
"Yani!"
Twyla's loud shriek startled her and Yani moved as fast as she could back into the living room. Leona was grabbing the remote from Twyla and turning the sound up. The BBC news was on. Klaue's picture took up half the screen on the wall.
"Them find his body," Leona said.
"Shh! Let's hear it," Twyla hissed.
A British-Indian woman anchor told a horrible narrative and Yani wanted to cover her ears, but she stood with a heavy belly, wide-eyed and mouth open as the world was informed that the notorious arms dealer, Ulysses Klaue of South Africa, was found dead in Korea with two others. A woman. And another man. All of Klaue's business was put out into the world and even Twyla's face showed shock because of what the man was accused of doing for so many years. Killing. Arms dealing. Illegal transactions all over the world.
It was all sordid and nasty and so much more horrifying seeing it on the tv.
Killmonger was part of that, and now—
"Yani!"
Twyla moved away from the chair Leona sat in and grabbed Yani's shoulders and eased her onto the couch.
"I'm okay, I just felt a little faint," Yani said.
The headline news moved on to other things and Leona turned down the sound and switched channels.
"They didn't say his name," Yani insisted out loud.
"Calm down," Twyla said.
"They just said Klaue, and then a man and a woman. And there were no photos of him."
Her voice took on a pleading quality.
"Something's burning," Leona said rushing into the kitchen.
"Him not dead. He can't be—"
"They didn't say his name, so no one knows."
"I can look online."
Yani tried to get up, but her weight made it hard to move quickly enough. She felt the baby kicking her side and she gasped. The sharpness hurt. She had upset Dumplin.
"Relax cuz. Be easy, yeah?"
Yani nodded and leaned back.
"Whatever you were trying to make, that milk is ruined," Leona said.
Yani closed her eyes.
Please let me know you're okay, man.
Other news channels that mentioned Klaue only said the same thing. He was shot and killed and found in Korea. Two other bodies with him.
There was nothing Yani could do. Fretting about it would just get her worked up and the baby would feel it. So she focused on getting through the rest of the day with Sydette. Dinner. Bath time. Storytelling time. Sleep.
Yani curled her body around soft pillows and tried to rest her mind. She had to accept not knowing for sure. In the middle of the night, she lumbered out of bed and went to the living room to look on her laptop for any more information. Just various networks giving brief mentions, and then just as quick as the story came…it went.
A week went by and nothing new was reported. Her Aunt was now unemployed permanently from the man. And poor Jerome. Who would spoil him now if they couldn't walk onto the compound anymore? He would think that everyone abandoned him.
So silly. To worry about an iguana as much as she worried about her baby's father.
She touched her chest as her face grew tight. None of her children had their fathers in their life at that moment. Sydette would see Chez eventually in a few months, but Dumplin? Dumplin just had her.
She groaned and lowered her head. Breathing through her mouth she squeezed her hands into fists.
"Oh Lord," she whispered out loud.
She placed her right hand under her stomach.
"Twyla," she called out.
She stood up from the chair in the kitchen.
"Twyla."
"Yeah?"
Her cousin twisted her hair as she stepped into the room.
Yani grabbed a cup and poured water into it from a bottle. She concentrated on swallowing every drop and then turned to face her cousin.
"Dumplin is coming."
"Right now?"
"My contractions are now about thirty minutes apart. I've been keeping track all day."
"All day? You've been in labor all day?"
Twyla's face was bewildered.
"This is baby number two, remember?"
Yani grinned but Twyla's face was still frozen with surprise.
"I'll call Auntie and your Mom."
"Good. I'm going to walk a bit and track my progress while I call my doctor."
"Okay."
Twyla ran to the living room and Yani walked into her bedroom. Sydette was on her bed playing with her dolls.
"Hey, Sweet Pea. Go put your jacket and shoes on. Dumplin is coming."
Sydette's face lit up and she gave a loud whoop as she scrambled to find her shoes.
Yani held both sides of her stomach as she looked down at it.
"Hold on. Give me some time to get to the hospital, yeah?"
Sydette ran out of the room.
"Auntie! Auntie! The baby is coming!"
Yani smiled.
"Take your time, Dumplin. No rush, love. I'm here for you."
###
She was so tired.
By the time the last relative left the house and Sydette was put to bed sound asleep, Yani was able to sit in her new rocking chair and feed the baby. Fourth day home with the newborn and every relative had finally gotten a chance to see the bad man on the hill's child.
Dumplin.
Erik Paradise Galiber-Stevens.
Affectionately known as Riki by the rest of the family.
Nine pounds, four ounces.
Twyla took one look at him and exclaimed, "Dumplin? Tuh, this child is a beef patty."
The boy had the lustiest cry when he came out from between Yani's legs. Twyla cried the entire time she held Yani's hand in her private maternity room. Sydette had a side seat to watch everything and she was a better coach than her cousin. Her mother held Sydette and when her baby brother came out heavy and healthy, Sweet Pea shouted, "Don't cry, I'll help you!"
She had to have stitches, but she was glad that the birth wasn't as labor intensive as Sydette's had been. By the time she was rolled into the hospital to have him, Riki was out three hours later. Fat, vibrant, and restless. Arms and legs constantly moving like he had somewhere to go.
"Are you still sure about 'Paradise'?" Twyla said watching her breastfeed her son.
"What's wrong with that for a middle name? He was conceived in paradise and I want him to know that. What do you think it should be?"
"Lil Big Nigga—"
"Shut up!"
"He on them titties like his Daddy—"
"Twyla!"
"You know it's true."
"Nasty."
"Runs in the family. Before I forget—"
Twyla walked into her room and came back with a handful of mail.
"This all came to Auntie's house addressed to you. It was forwarded from your old place. All your bills."
Yani tilted Riki's head back and wiped his lips.
"Can you burp him for me?"
Yani took the mail as Twyla took the baby.
"Oh, stop fussing, you can have them titties again in a minute, greedy boy. Yuh Mama not going anywhere…Yani…what is it?"
"This came from Korea."
Yani felt her heart patter a little faster.
The manilla envelope had a typed address label on it for her apartment. The return address was written in Korean. The stamped date was recent. Five days previous.
"Open it," Tywla encouraged.
Yani took her time tearing open the flap. She took a deep breath and pulled out several sheets of heavy paper. She stared at them, looking over every single one carefully. When she lifted her eyes up to Twyla, she could barely breathe.
"Yuh scaring me cuz."
Yani was still in pain from having the baby, so she couldn't jump up like she wanted. She opened her mouth but she couldn't get words out.
"Yani…fuck…what is it?"
"Me and Auntie…"
"You and Auntie what?"
"We own the compound. These are deeds to all three houses."
Yani stared at the thick papers.
"Auntie gets the first house. I get Klaue's house, and we both share the middle house. It's the fucking deeds. We own everything free and clear."
"Yuh fucking lying!"
Riki whimpered from the volume of Twyla's voice.
"Killmonger did this. I know it. It's Klaue's signature on the transfer of everything, but…this is Killmonger."
Yani stared at her newborn son, his silky curls, button nose, full lips, and bright brown eyes so perfect. So much like his father.
"Dumplin, your Daddy gave us everything."
