Hospitals
INDIE
Donnie drove me to New York. Our drive was quiet. We hadn't much to say between us, and I admit that I was grateful for the silence. I had no desire to converse with Donnie and he had little to say to me.
"Jamal only does what he thinks is right," Donnie said at one point.
I glowered at him, and he changed the subject to the latest intrigue in the NBA world -- something I had no interest in. The drive seemed to stretch out forever and the views of the plains as we crossed into Indiana and then Ohio bled monotonously into each other.
"How is my mother?" I asked, tiring of the hours of silence that were only punctuated by the occasional song on the radio Donnie was interested in hearing.
"Aunty Gail?"
"Yes."
"She misses you. She doesn't believe you're dead."
"I'm not."
"She'll be surprised to see you like this."
"What, the bald thing?"
"Yeah."
I suspected my mother would be content to see me alive and that she wouldn't care much for my hair, or my appearance.
"I miss her."
"What you did to her was cruel."
I glared, "And marrying me off like a bed wench wasn't?"
"I'm not saying I agree with him," Donnie defended himself.
"Then stop justifying it. Stop making excuses Donnie. Jamal's ambition ripped our family apart."
"I know," Donnie mumbled.
My cousin was a good man. He knew right from wrong. He'd made a mistake and I could sense that even when he wasn't saying anything, he thought about what had happened with Selena Carter and he regretted what he'd done. His eyes carried that permanent tinge of regret behind them.
"Jamal is lucky what he's done hasn't caught up with him."
"It might have."
"What do you mean?"
"When I left New York, Rich Carmichael was trying to kill him. Maybe by now, he's succeeded."
A lump formed in my throat at the mention of Richard. I didn't want to believe he could kill my brother.
"Does everyone know I'm dead?" I asked.
"Yes."
My heart thumped in my chest. If Richard believed me dead, and his brother certainly was dead, then he'd have more than enough justification for revenge. I'd never seen him get violent except for the fight in the park, where he'd been more than justified. His willingness to fight wasn't what I questioned.
"I don't want my brother to die."