As you guys know, I've been working hard on finishing up "Death in the City." As I edit the manuscript, I realize that the storyline is completely different but, it has the same feel stylistically as my 1st novel, "Water Flows Under Doors." That makes me smile. Here's a raw, unedited sample from Part 4 of the novel. Enjoy and as always, feel free to leave comments.
4 – Hard Words & Harder Goodbyes
The first half of nurse Jeanie’s work day went by
faster than she expected despite the emergency room being relatively quiet that
evening with the exception of a few crying children who were sick with the flu
and a few loud confrontations between hospital security guards and homeless men
who kept having to be escorted out of the building for loitering. It was
freezing outside and they were seeking somewhere to sleep and get warm but the
hospital didn’t want them inside the building unless they were there for
medical treatment which, by law, they couldn’t deny them. There was also a
grumpy, rude, perverted old man suffering from an asthma attack that kept
wheezing inappropriate requests directed at the female nurses. He seemed to be
obsessed with how their butts looked in their nurse’s uniforms and insisted on
telling them, in graphic detail, what he wanted them to let him do to those
butts. He was obnoxiously loud but otherwise, the doctors, nurses, orderlies
and everyone on duty that night were all appreciative of the not-so-busy night
in the E.R. for a change. Everyone seemed to be drowsy and moving at a snail’s
pace because of the sleepy vibe that hung in the air like a thick fog.
Jeanie hadn’t brought any food from home so on her
break, she decided to buy dinner from the West Indian food truck that was
always parked on the side block of the hospital. She loved Jamaican food and
they always had delicious jerk chicken which she happened to have a craving for
that evening. She placed her order at the window cut into the side of the
truck, then rocked and swayed to the old school reggae that softly poured out
of the truck’s speakers. She made pleasant small talk with the chubby owner of
the food truck as he prepared her meal but only because it would have seemed
rude if she hadn’t. He politely passed her the spicy chicken wrapped in
aluminum foil and Jeanie smiled at how delicious if smelled. She wished him a
pleasant night before her turned away to walk back to the hospital. That’s when
she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Why’d you call me and hang up?” Jeanie’s
ex-husband asked.
Angry and annoyed by the sound of his voice, Jeanie
spun around to face him. The last thing she was in the mood for was an argument
with him on the street outside of her job. When she looked at him, she was
shocked by his appearance. He had always been a neat, well-groomed man. He
cared so much about the way he looked that she often called him pretty, or vain
so it was surprising to see him disheveled and un-kept. Even in the shadow that
the hood of his sweatshirt cast over his face, she could tell that he hadn’t
shaved in weeks. He wasn’t exactly filthy but, his jeans were just dirty enough
to let her know that he had been wearing them for some time without washing
them.
“What’re you doing here Nate?” she asked.
“I haven’t seen or heard from you in a month and a
half. I’ve tried to reach out to you but you won’t take my calls,” he
said.
“Because there’s nothing to talk about,” she
interrupted.
Nate felt her animosity towards him like a gunshot
to his chest but he was determined to keep talking because he had no idea when
he would have the chance to speak to, or see her again.
“I was surprised to see your number pop up on my
phone, and then I got worried when you just hung up,” he explained.
“I hung up because I didn’t want to talk to you,”
she quickly answered.
“But you must have wanted to talk because you
dialed my number…unless you called me by mistake,” he said, questioning her
sincerity.
“Listen Nate…I had a really rough day and I was
having a really hard time sleeping so I dialed your number. I’m not even sure
why but I hung up because I changed my mind,” she explained without sharing the
whole truth with him which made her feel bad because she had always believed
that selective, deliberate omission was the same as lying.
“Well, what had you shook up enough to reach out to
me all of a sudden? In all the years I’ve known you, I don’t think I’ve ever
seen you afraid or unsure, or even restless. You’ve always been a woman of
faith,” he said.
“Not anymore,” Jeanie answered. “ I gave all that
up after our son was taken from us.”
“Well, your faith isn’t the only thing you gave up
on after he died,” said Nate.
“He didn’t die! He was killed….and I don’t want to
talk about this,” she snapped.
“Why not? Why can’t we talk about our son? Why
can’t we talk about us? We were supposed to be there for each other…to get
through this. What the fuck happened to our marriage?” Nate yelled so loudly
that more than a few people passing by turned their heads to see what was going
on.
“Because there’s nothing to talk about!” she
shouted and the veins in her neck bulged as she yelled back at the top of her
voice.
“Nothing? Twelve years of marriage and you think
there’s nothing to talk about?” he asked and grabbed her arm as she tried to
walk away from him.
“No…nothing!” she said through gritted teeth as she
yanked her arm away from him and continued on her way back to the hospital.
“So…it’s really just that easy for you to throw it
all away…to throw me away?” he asked.
Nate’s question made Jeanie turn around and storm
right back towards him. His aggressive demand for answers had triggered an
anger inside her that she had kept bottled up for so long that it had become
more harmful to her heart than her grief. There were things that she needed to
say but had avoided saying just to spare Nate’s feelings but
now that he had chosen to relentlessly pry, she decided to let him have it all.
“Yes, it WAS that easy. You want to know why I
stopped loving you?” she asked while poking her finger in his chest. “I stopped
loving you the day you stood up on that podium, in front of all those news
cameras, right alongside the police commissioner, calling for peace, asking
everyone to stay calm, begging the people who were angry and outraged about
what happened to OUR boy not to turn the city upside down. You stood
side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder with the people who were protecting and
defending our son’s murderer. You stood there…asking everyone to protest
peacefully and I just stood there with you and let you speak…and I hated
you…and I hated myself too. While you were trying to help them save this place,
all I wanted was to watch it burn like the hell it is. That’s when I stopped
believing in you…stopped loving you. That’s when I stopped believing in
everything I was taught about faith…and forgiveness, I have neither one of those
things left in me. Do you get it now? Do you understand now? Now…leave me the
fuck alone,” she told him coldly before she turned her back and started to walk
away again.
“I lost a son too. I miss him too. I hurt too!”
Nate yelled after her.
“Obviously not as much as I do,” she answered
without turning around to look at him.
Copyright
© 2016 Keith Kareem Williams
All
rights reserved.
***I hope you enjoyed this short excerpt. You can still pre-order autographed copies HERE. ***
