Page 4 of See No Evil

Legend coughed intohis pillow, then turned to the other side of his bed. As he flung the sheets off his body, the lingering scent of dragon blood incense filled his nostrils. He sat up, reached for the cigar he’d started smoking earlier and lit it again, taking a drag.

Another damn dream…

This was the fourth dream he’d had of his late history teacher. Mrs. Florence. She didn’t say anything. She just sat there, staring in disdain. He managed to free himself from the nightmare, and wake up. Axel had seen her first in his dreams, and then, she’d come to him.

He and Axel had gone to school together, and Ms. Florence was their history teacher—his favorite. Something about her made the students listen. He loved her, and didn’t realize how he felt about her until she was dead. When she died, he fell to his knees and cried. He hadn’t cried like that about anyone since…

When the dreams first started coming, he was smoking so much weed and getting black-out drunk, he convinced himself that it was all in his mind. Some shit his imagination had cooked up like a fresh batch of crack cocaine.

Now that he was sober and living a fairly drug-free life, with the exception of the time he’d gotten high as a kite for his birthday, the dreams kept coming, one more intense than the last. He turned on some music, starting with Nate Rose’s, ‘Egos.’ Then, he went to check the thermostat. It read seventy-two degrees, but felt like an inferno.

Maybe it’s broken. I might have to call Axel to get someone over here to take a look.

He went to his laundry area, grabbed a small electric fan, and brought it back into the bedroom. Plugging it next to the bed, he turned it on high, then removed his black satin boxers and slid back into bed, butt ass naked. The fan did a good job cooling him off, and it wasn’t long before he fell into a good sleep. His eyes fluttered open when he suddenly heard his name being called…

“Legend! LEGEND VIDAL!”

Caught between the dream world and reality, he couldn’t break free from the grasp of inertia. He tried to open his mouth, but struggled to get any sound out.

“That’s right! Just be quiet! You’ve been talkin’ enough jibber jabber. I have tapped on yo’ door six times! Each time, you did not answer. You just slept right through it, woke up, remembered, and went on about yo’ merry way. Now, you’re experiencing a little sleep paralysis. How do you like it? It ain’t fun, is it?”

He swallowed what felt like a glob of mucous that was jammed in the back of his throat, and clenched his teeth. Every muscle in his body started to burn. He wearily looked beyond the smoke in his dream and saw Mrs. Florence sitting there in a large silver chair. Her black wooly hair was pulled back and she wore a light blue headband. Large, pink glossy lips were curved in a smile, but her eyes were tapered, as if she were peering at a speck of sparkling dust she wished to investigate, just in case it was a diamond.

“Legend, I hate to have to do this to you, boy, but you’ve left me no choice. Axel told you to stop ignoring me. You didn’t listen. I tried to come to ya gently, and you’d just roll over, pretend you ain’t see me sittin’ here. You think I enjoy this? I could be playin’ the piano, watching over family, or running with the dogs and cats. That’s right, there’s animals here, too. I see you got three dogs of your own. Tank, Dior, and Trigger. I know their names. You love them. You always did like dogs.” She smiled proudly. “You’d bring strays home and ya mama would hoop and holla ’bout it because you were always doing that, and she said wasn’t enough scraps to feed ’em all. You’d tell me about it, complaining and sad as you were, ’specially when she’d make you take them back outside.”

Another type of warmth filled him, this one of pure comfort. Pleasurable contemplations packed his mind, memories he hadn’t given much time and attention to as of late. Like all of those strays he’d find on the streets, out and about. A few abandoned by their owners, others born in the wild. Sometimes, Mama would let him keep a couple; other times, she’d want them gone. Tell him he had too many. He found a way to make money off ’em if a couple good ones had puppies. Mama was okay with it when that happened.

Melanie, however, was scared of dogs back then. That made things harder.

“Now… I want you to tell me, Legend, why you haven’t lived up to your promise to me?”

His vision blurred and he started seeing double when Mac Miller’s, ‘Kool Aid & Frozen Pizza’ started to play. She repeated her question, but her voice sounded like someone talking in Chinese, underwater… yet somehow, he knew what she’d said, over and over.

“…I can’t do it. I made you that promise ’cause you were dying. I was a kid…”

“That promise wasn’t for me, Legend. It was for you. Look at you… all that untapped potential inside of ya, just like when you were a little boy. All that black and blue rage… that tattered and torn courage… All of those freckles, golden eyes with green specks, like rare gems. Hair so dark it rivals the moonless evenin’ sky. Such a unique lookin’ child you were… such a unique young man. Shrewd. You made good grades, but fought every day. You were aggressive. Vicious. Rough. Behind those eyes was a sadness that tore at my heart, boy. You were pretending to surf the ocean waves, while drownin’ in the baby pool. My baby… my dear baby boy…”

Stinging tears welled in his eyes, and his heart throbbed.

“I can’t,” he said again.

“Legend, you can. I know it’s the one thing in this world you’re afraid of. You ain’t afraid of prison. You ain’t afraid of dying. You ain’t afraid of much, just like Axel. I ’spose that’s why y’all were thick as thieves and bumped heads, too. You’re too stubborn though, and it’s hurting you. You have to start making your anger work for you, and not against you.”

“You don’t understand, Mrs. Florence. Nothin’ I say or do will change it!” His words came out slurred, and he felt damn near drunk off trepidation and indignation, but he pushed through.

“Legend, I understand plenty. I know I’m asking you something that you believe damn near impossible, but it’s going to keep on showin’ up in your life, in many ways, until you face it. Until you deal with it. Until you LOOK at it, and SEE IT! See the evil, second of the Brother Disciples! You can no longer turn a blind eye to your pain. You’re blockin’ your blessings! OPEN YOUR EYES, BOY! NOT THE ONES ON YOUR FACE, THE ONES IN YOUR HEART. WALK BY FAITH, NOT BY SIGHT!!!”

And then, she vanished.

He lay there, on his back, breathing hard. Chest rising and falling. After a while, he sat back up and grabbed the cigar, lighting it again. He puffed and blew out rings of smoke until the cigar was all gone. Nothing left but a nub. Unable to go back to sleep, he just lay there. Thinking. All of his thoughts were heavy. Bleak. Dank.

How can I walk by faith when I barely have anything to believe in?

Chapter Two

Axel’s house wasamazing. Of course, he’d worked hard for it. Earned every fixture, strip of wood, and slab of marble. Legend stood in the backyard, nursing a blackberry wine cooler and smoking a cigar in the stifling heat. He’d been holding Cameron earlier, playing with the cute little baby, and English had told him he was a natural. He immediately handed the child right back to her.

Watching people, on the other hand, came naturally. Individuals he didn’t know and didn’t care about mingled to a soft jazz music backdrop. He casually greeted a few mutual acquaintances and observed the waiters walk around holding trays laden with bland cuisine, which mostly tasted like two-day old school cafeteria food. He was hoping English would have some good-looking friends he could scope, but the ones worth a second glance were married or sucking faces with a boyfriend they’d brought along.

---