Page 38 of Desperate Measures
Scarlett turned one.
I was trying to find my happiness and keep Scarlett happy. When her first birthday rolled around, I did what I could to make it memorable. We had a small gathering at Ms. Jemma’s house. I spent more time over there than normal. Being around Zahara and Ms. Jemma made me feel closer to Jah. We decorated the living room with pink and yellow balloons, and I had a two-tier cake delivered from Kaye’s Kakes. Zahara, Rashad, Ms. Jemma, and I sang Happy Birthday. It was small, sweet, and sad. I held it together as long as I could, but relief and gratefulness washed over me the minute the phone rang.
“You remembered.” I smiled, looking into the phone. Jahsir videoed me, something he never did. I knew this call was intentional.
“I’d never forget her birthday,” Jahsir smiled. “She’s mine. Just like you. Lemme see my girl.”
“I’m at your mom’s house. How do you want me to handle this? Rashad is here, too.”
“I want to see them all.”
“Look, everybody. Say hey!” I announced turning the camera around on the phone and holding it out so he could see everyone. “And he only has a few minutes, so make your hellos and goodbyes quick.” Ms. Jemma burst into tears, Zahara did her best to hold hers back, and Rashad nodded a few times, clearlyhappy to see his boy. They all spoke briefly, then I took Scarlett to his old room so that they could talk.
Later that night, after everyone left, I was cleaning up, overwhelmed with emotions as always. I was happy he was able to call, and I was able to see his face. But it still wasn’t the same. I heard Scarlett giggling in the bathroom. She loved playing in the toilet, which always made my stomach turn. Meeting her in the bathroom, I gasped in fear.
“No, Scarlett!”
Splash!
It was too late. The burner was at the bottom of the toilet, screen already black, water rising around it as it sank to the bottom. I pulled it out fast, wiped it, and begged it to turn back on.
It didn’t.
I ran to the kitchen and put it in a bowl of rice, as I had been told countless times before.
That didn’t work.
“What the fuck!” I blurted out! “Aren’t these phones supposed to be waterproof these days?!”
“Crim, what’s wrong?” Zahara asked, joining me in the kitchen.
“Scarlett threw the phone in the toilet. It’s not working, Zah. How can I hear from Jahsir if it’s not working? Did he leave you a phone, too? Tell me he did.” I urged her.
“Crimson, he didn’t. But relax, it’s gonna be okay, just-”
“None of this is okay, Zahara! It will never be okay! God, please.” I leaned against the kitchen counter, sobbing. “I cannot do this.”
Zahara pulled me into a hug, and I sobbed into her shoulder. “The phone will come back on, Crim, it has to.”
It never did.
Month Five
Two full monthswithout seeing or hearing from Jah since the seed of Chucky threw my phone in the toilet. I’d stopped crying, for the most part. Comfort came by way of me recalling memories of Jah and me. I thought about each time Jahsir asked me if I trusted him, and I said yes. Saying is one thing, doing is another. If I wanted Jah to come back, I had to trust that he would.
I told myself I needed to focus on one emotion. It didn’t surprise me that I chose anger. Every day I woke up, I searched for Venus on every social media platform I could think of. I wanted to find her and beat her ass again. But if she was smart, and unfortunately the bitch was; she’d make sure I never saw her again. My anger started to weigh on me and that's when I realized it was doing more damage than good.
Venus was long gone and even if she did pop back up, an ass whooping wouldn’t change anything. She’d still be a conniving bitch and Jahsir would still be gone. So, instead of seething in anger, I stayed focused on Scarlett and my craft. My orders increased, business was good, and Scarlett was happy.
Scarlett was walking…scratch that, running, talking, and waving at strangers. She went from calling him Jah Jah to Dada, considering I burned it into her brain with a picture of him I had. Rashad moved to Calhoun Heights and opened his tattoo shop. He drives back here every so often. Rashad started watching Scarlett and me closer. He’s protective. He’s blood. But he wasn’t Jahsir.
When Jahsir and I reconnected, I prayed we never parted again. But fate had other plans. Each day, I pick up the scraps of the life Jahsir left behind and only hope I’ll see him again.
crimson
. . .
“Dada!”
