Page 15 of See No Evil

He flung offhis sheets, dripping in sweat.

After rubbing his head, Legend fell back against the headboard, replaying in his mind the nightmare he’d just had, where Ms. Florence was yelling at him. After the fight with his mother, all he’d done was increase the distance between them. His honesty had backfired, creating a larger hole he’d soon fall in.

“…I just want this over with. How can you force me to do somethin’ I agreed to do as a child? Things change… shit. Now, you come into my dreams, night after night, speaking in riddles. Quoting verses. Sittin’ in that chair, looking down on me. I can’t believe I’m talkin’ to a ghost…”

He was sleep-deprived, running on fumes. He had to be at work soon, and Melanie had asked for a ride to work later in the day due to car trouble.

Jumping out of bed, hot as a wet hen, he went on to take an ice-cold shower—something he’d done since he was a kid after having bad dreams. He grabbed his phone and selected some music to play while he got cleansed and meditated: ‘I Don’t Like,’ by Chief Keef. With the old classic turned up at high volume, he shampooed his hair and briskly washed his body.

When he stepped out, he checked himself out in the mirror, starting with his gums. Legend was particular about oralhygiene, and tended to brush sometimes upwards of four times a day—a slight compulsion. He gargled some mouthwash, spit it out, then went over each tooth with precision and care using a toothpaste-loaded electric brush. After he was finished, he patted his lips dry, then ran a brush over his soft waves while Pop Smoke’s ‘Dior’ played.

His mind wandered with thoughts regarding his next school assignment, getting a minor repair for his motorcycle, and possibly going to the club over the weekend. Then, he paused when something moved behind him. He turned on a dime, but saw no one.

He faced the mirror again, and as if someone was drawing on it with the tip of their finger there appeared the face of a child.There’s no condensation. How did that happen?His eyes lined up perfectly with the kid’s and the boy had a glum expression.

Startled, Legend let out a broken yelp, dropped the brush on the floor, and stumbled back against the wall. The sad eyes of the child vanished first from the mirror, then the rest of the face. Blinking back his emotions, he stared back at the mirror. His face was covered in sweat, nostrils flared.

He pressed his palm across his chest, right along his racing heart, wondering if he was having a stroke or heart attack. Once he caught his breath, he turned away from his reflection, quickly switched off the bathroom lights, and walked out of there.

When he made it back to his bedroom, he plopped down on the edge of the bed, the towel hanging half off of his still moist body, and bent over at the waist, fighting tears. He recognized that child. Felt the pain and anguish that little boy had experienced.

As he rocked back and forth, processing the overwhelming emotions, he listened to the sounds of ‘The Box,’ by Roddy Ricch. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a white feather on the floor, just like the ones on Ms. Florence’s huge fan that sheheld when she came to him. She’d told him his time was up. He’d be granted no more chances or delays.

It had been a long ass time since he felt sick to his stomach like that, rolling around in his own demented thoughts. They were soft in the middle, and jagged and rusty around the edges, like an open tin can that had been left in the rain for years.

What you ’spect me to do, Ms. Florence?!

He closed his eyes, blocking the tears while placing his steepled hands against his forehead.

You said I was skating around the issue… that the topic ain’t dead. It’s alive and tormentin’ me. You said this is the source of a lotta my problems, but because I don’t want to remember it, I don’t wanna see the evil, I won’t meet it head on. I’ve been face to face wit’ monsters, Ms. Florence, since I was a baby. I’m probably a monster myself, but you know my heart… you know I got limits to the shit I do. I’m not some bloodthirsty lunatic. There’s just some shit I’d never do. Maybe ’cause I do believe in God, and think that one day, all of us… ’cludin’ me… are going to have to answer for what we’ve done. I don’t regret not one man I shot, strangled, put six feet under. Put to sleep for good. I been taking care of business for a long time, but I guess I never killed the one I really wanted dead…

Ms. Florence, I think that’s the only way out of this. I see you won’t leave me alone till I get this out of my system and handle it. Maybe, I need to go straight to the source. I can’t talk to Axel ’bout this though, Ms. Florence. I can’t talk to Caspian, Melanie, and damn sure not Mama. I ain’t got nobody to confide in, and there’s no way they’d understand. I told you, ’cause I trusted you, and you wanted to know why I was so torn up inside. Problems at home with Mama… no father in my life… dead brother… I felt like I had to deal with a lot of shit a kid shouldn’t have to, like I had to be the man of the house.

“You want this soldier to unburden my soul! But this goes against what I believe in! How I was raised and trained! Men don’t cry! WE DON’T CRY!” He jumped up and punched a hole clean in the wall. His knuckles stung, the skin broken, bruised and bleeding… but he felt no pain. He stood there, in a daze.

Hate has been my religion, Ms. Florence, and I’m up every mornin’ for Sunday service, dressed to impress. I never miss a day. Guns blazin’.

He glanced over at his closet, which was full of artillery, and other special things, too.

You told me I couldn’t go to that chapel no more and listen to the Devil preach. That voice in my head that gives me permission to remain blind is my personal devil, huh? Maybe it is, maybe it’s not, but I can’t trust nobody. I need to hear the good word. Not from the Bible, but the book of life. Who got the good word, Ms. Florence? Who can talk to me like you could? Calm me down? Make me listen? Who can inspire me? Who can tame this beast, Ms. Florence, and make me lay my burdens down? I ain’t met a man or woman yet who could! I don’t believe there’s a person alive who could bring me to my knees and make me repent, while having me respect them at the same time. You said it was time for a new spiritual awakening, and you’d give me a sign. You said it would be dripping wet with love…

All right…

He sniffed, wiped his eyes, threw on a tank top and boxers, then looked up at the ceiling. The fan was spinning and spinning, around and around, like an angel dancing around the sun.

You won, Ms. Florence. I’m ready. My blinders are off. I’m waiting for your next move…

The rain hadstarted an hour ago and hadn’t let up. It was just in time for her evening commute.Figures.Desiree finally made it home from work, thankful that Kaylee and her friend had gone to the movies with the child’s older sister. Afterwards, they’d planned to stop and get some food, too. She rested against her front door for a while, catching her breath, drenched to the bone from not having an umbrella.

Moments later, she managed to get her second wind. Stripping out of the wet garments, she wrapped herself in her zebra print robe and lit a few candles around the place. Grabbing a can of chili with beans, she opened it, dumped it in a pot with a bit of onion and garlic powder, and allowed it to simmer on the stove. Just then, her phone rang. She saw it was Kaylee.

“Hey, baby, I thought you were at the movies?”

“We’re in the car now and on our way. Mama, can I spend the night?”

She sucked her teeth and shook her head as she stirred the pot, moving the meat and beans around in the thick gravy. She knew this was coming. It was Friday night after all, and Kaylee and her little friend Patricia were always trying to spend extra time together, especially when it came to sleepovers.

“You don’t have a change of clothes, and what about your homework?”

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