but I’ll take what I can get … for now.”
He winked.
But I just rolled my eyes.
I didn’t have time for small thinking.
Not then, not ever.
Eleven thirty p.m.
A revolving swirl
of red and blue
poured through my window,
awakening me
from my sleep.
A call from Merc on my phone:
“Get dressed.
Grab your wallet.
Meet me downstairs.
Put a smile on your face.”
There was
a double-entry
set of steps,
each leading
to a different wing of the house.
To the right,
my wing.
To the left,
Dali’s.
Our rooms
separated by
long hallways,
bedroom doors,
security
guarding
us like precious jewels.
But on that night,
no one was up there,
from what I could tell.
Not Marissa, not Meat,
or any other zip-lipped servant.
We met at the top of the stairs
before going down,
darkness enveloping us.
I wanted to lace my fingers in hers,
but it was the first time I felt
unsure of where things stood.
“Do you know what’s going on?” I whispered.
“Got no clue,” Dali whispered back,
wrapping her arm around mine.
“I miss you, chica. That part I know.”
“Me too. I can barely sleep at night.”
I stuttered over my words.
Under the cover of darkness,
Dali pulled me in
lips on tongue
like ocean waves,
crashing against the shore.
“Ay yo!” Merc screamed from below.
“What’s taking so long?”
We released ourselves,
walking separately down the steps
just as Merc opened the front door.
“Officer Parsons, Atlanta Police Department.”
One hand flashed his badge,
the other propped on top
of his gun belt.
“Is something wrong, sir?” Merc asked.
“Here to do a welfare check
for Denver Lee Lafleur.
Mind if we take a look around?”
Two policemen—
Officers Parsons and Anderson—
stepped into the grand foyer.
Parsons, with a face of stone.
Anderson, on the other hand,
had the swivel neck going,
big ole smile across his face,
like he ain’t never seen
Swarovski crystal chandeliers before.
“We received a call from a Captain Antoine Lafleur claiming that you, Mr. Ellis, were holding his daughter against her will.”
And I was surprised for a moment
that it was you, Papi, not Ma.
Guess all I had to do to get your
attention was leave, which made sense.
You certainly had ours when you dipped off.
I realized everyone was looking at me,
waiting for an answer.
“That’s not true!” I said. “My father is lying!”
“How old are you, miss?”
“Eighteen.”
I flashed my driver’s license,
my entire body brimming with heat.
“Looks like you just had a birthday?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded.
“And you are?” Parsons pointed to Dali.
But before she could answer,
Merc whipped out our contracts:
“These ladies are my recording artists.”
Parsons scanned the papers,
turned his back to Merc,
like this wasn’t his house,
and whispered in my face,
“Can you state with certainty
that you are in no danger?”
“Yes, Officer.”
“And you left Pennsylvania of your own will?”
“Absolutely.
I could play you some of our music,
if you like? We’re even going—”
Merc cleared his throat,
eyes morphed into red lasers.
Officer Parsons’s radio beeped.
“Going to?”
“Nowhere … Officer,” I said, staring at Merc.
Officer Parsons paused,
as if he waited for me to say more,
then lifted the radio to his lips,
“All clear,”
and slapped it back on his belt.
“Given Miss Lafleur’s age,
and own admission,
we have no cause to pursue
further action.
We’ll report back to the parents
that she is safe and in good health,
despite their wishes that she return home.”
his contact card from his back pocket
and then handed it to me.
“In case you change your mind, young lady.”
“I won’t,” I said.
But I slipped it in my robe anyway.
Officer Parsons
shook Merc’s hand
and headed to his car.
Anderson lingered
just enough so
Parsons didn’t see
him hand Merc a
blank sheet of paper:
“Can I get your autograph for my daughters?”
You wanted me home.
But on what terms? Yours? Or mine?
And I wasn’t sure how I felt. Happy you missed me? Disrespected? Both?
So because of that, I would stay in Atlanta. For me. This was my life, my dreams.
Still,
the reality of it all
was enough to send
my feet flying,
crying all the way upstairs.
the mirror
reflected the whole
mess of me
satin bonnet
sliding down
swollen curls,
white-hot tears
against
crimson cheeks,
a tornado of a girl
dipped in deep thought
When would my dreams
ever be good enough?
A knock at my door
“May I come in?”
There was a tenderness in Merc’s voice,
like soft jazz at midnight.
“Dali thought you might
need some company.”
I didn’t want
to be seen like that.
Hair, face
toe’ up,
stained with rage.
Bones all exposed.
But Dali knew.
I didn’t want to be left alone.
Dali came in first,
Merc followed.
“I’m so sorry, Denver,” Merc said.
“I know that was probably scary for you.”
He pulled us both close to him,
our faces nestling in the cushion of his chest.
He reminded me
to breathe through every sob.
“I went through this when I left home, too.”
Merc handed me a bottle of water.
Slid a blue pill
onto my nightstand.
“In case you want to take the edge off.”
But before I could do anything,
Dali flinched next to me, and then chirped,
“I’ll take it!” and snatched it so quick,
popped it in her mouth
and swallowed,
no water needed.
&nbs
p; “Damn girl,” I half chuckled,
Dali’s theatrics pulling me
out of the moment.
“Sorry.” Dali smiled sweet, more at Merc than me.
“But tonight was just stressful.”
“That’s cool,” I said.
“I didn’t want it anyway.”
“Suit yourselves.” Merc shrugged.
“Say Say, you can stay with her
for a few minutes, but then
head back to your wing.”
Merc flicked the lights,
and shut the door behind him.
I grabbed the bottle,
gulped all of it down,
and fell into Dali’s embrace.
life-giving,
soul-filling,
cool,
magic,
washing away
tears,
dreams,
fears.
Blue eye, brown eye
part earth, part ocean
drifted away
arms,
legs,
mind
became
weightless
Twilight
and memory
turned
endless …
cutting eighth period,
hanging out,
hidden room
in the school basement.
One touch,
one kiss
split us
in two
“I’m not … like that.”
And I whispered back,
“Pffft, me neither.”
And it was true.
Least I thought.
What was the point
of labels anyway?
I We tried to forget that day,
but trying was like
begging the moon
to not show its face.
My bed was empty, cold.
Dali gone,
disappeared in the middle of the night.
Ghosted on me
like some kinda hookup
gone wrong.
Did she want to leave?
That room,
that bed,
never lonelier.
As I stood and walked
to my window
Officer Parsons’s card
fell out of my robe,
wedging itself
in a crack of wooden floor.
Was that you again, universe?
Some kinda sign?
The weight of my foot,
loosening the wood even more.
Big ole
brand-new-looking house
with a floorboard
like a removable puzzle piece.
I left the card right there,
let it fall between the cracks,
went to my bathroom,
washed away the stains of
cops banging on the door,
the pot of trouble you and Ma
stirred up.
I dried my face and headed out my bedroom,
but Meat was there,
leaning back in a chair.
Dude was everywhere.
“Good morning, Denver.”
He stood up soon as he saw me.
“Ready for breakfast?”
“Bro, I’m next-level hangry.”
We both chuckled.
I walked down the stairs,
through the halls,
through the kitchen
Meat trailing my every step,
until I reached the double doors
that led to the patio in front of the pool.
Dali was already there
dressed in a white robe, white towel
wrapped around her ice-blond hair.
The maid served me my plate—
two celery sticks and water.
On the rocks.
I wanted to say thank you,
but I knew she wouldn’t respond.
It’s like Merc had a revolving assortment
of staff, mouths on mute at all times.
Meanwhile she piled Dali’s
and Meat’s plates with pancakes and thick bacon.
Marissa sauntered
through the French doors,
beckoning. “Merc, I need you for a sec.”
Soon as that man turned his back,
Dali, smile like the devil,
raised a finger to her lips
darted her eyes at Meat and whispered
shhhhhh
passed me a piece of salty,
greasy, crunchy slice of heaven.
I slid it between my lips,
rolled my eyes all around in rapturous delight
Meat chuckled,
“Y’all are hilarious!”
Chewed it up hella quick
before Merc saw
“Special announcement!” He clapped
his way back to the patio,
ending my bacony bliss
in a hurried swallow.
“I think you ladies are ready
to hit the road with me …
Next Saturday.”
And me and Dali LOST IT!
Jumping up and down,
almost knocking over our food,
hands clasped real tight.
“Omg, Dali, stage lights,
fans screaming! We did it!”
“Together.”
Dali folded her
whole self into me.
“There’s just one little thing
I have to change.”
Merc sat back down,
pierced his pancakes
fork and knife,
took in a big bite.
“And, Say Say, you ain’t gonna like it,
but it is what it is.”
As in
Substitute
As in
Fill-in for Denver, in case her voice needs a rest
As in
“Maybe we’ll need your vocals, Say Say.
We probably won’t, on this tour.
But don’t worry …
I’ma keep you busy.”
Dali’s scream?
Guttural.
Her words?
A staccato of arrows,
darting
without destination.
“What about me?
You PROMISED, Merc!”
“Be patient.
You just need a little more practice.
Denver’s ready …
right now.”
Patio chair
tossed to the ground.
Meat reached for her,
“Calm down, Dalisay,”
his words, gentle,
but Dali wasn’t trying to hear it.
Bare feet stomped on pavement
legs flew through the kitchen doors,
utensils dropped
next to the chair,
I chased the wind of her wings.
“Dali, hold up!”
I grabbed hold of her arm
before she reached the stairs,
her robe slipping off one shoulder,
revealing a small blue-purple bruise.
“What happened to you?”
Dali yanked away from me
as though my own hand was diseased.
“Hit myself on the stupid closet. It’s nothing.”
“Hey, I’ll talk to Merc.
Convince him to let you sing.
I don’t wanna do this without you.”
“I don’t need your favors, Denver.”
Her words left
a trail of fire and ice
on the steps.
There was a tightness
working its way
from hair follicles
to toenails.
I did not want this.
I did not want this.
I did not want this.
(Not like this.)
“She’ll get over it.”
Merc strolled in
like World War III
didn’t just pop off.
“You need to fix this NOW!
I don’t wanna sing without Dali!”
I screamed straight at the
gray dawn of Merc’s eyes.
He licked his lips,
smirk growing
from zero to a hundred.
Veiny hands wrapped
around my arms,
soft at first,
but then hard to the point
my blood stopped flowing.
“I’m not putting in all this
money, time, and effort
to be dealing with Say Say’s
drama or yours!”
I yanked away
from his hardened grip,
the print of his fingers
remained
reddened
beneath my skin.
A sudden chill
filled that whole room.
“I’m sorry, Denver.
I didn’t mean to …”
“Don’t ever grab me like that again, Merc!”
I choked it out, and it took all my courage
to draw the line with the very person
who controlled my future.
“I know. I don’t know what got into me.
I just believe in you so much.
I want the best for you.
We good?”
I nodded hesitantly through his honey-coated words.
“That’s my gurl.
Now, meet me in the studio in ten.
Need you to link up with the other background singers.
It’s gonna be a long week.”
powerhouse,
church-bred,
Atlanta-born
voices from heaven.
Every day and night,
we practiced background
to all the songs in
Merc’s catalog.
We sang through
every note,
every harmony
Mine, folded into theirs
like a blanket
on a cold winter’s day
But that’s all we did together though.
Sing.
And when I tried to
strike up a convo,
they hit me with
“Merc said we’re here to work.
Not make friends.”
Which sent a chill
slowly growing inside
Only thing that coulda
fixed that
was if I had Dali
and that skin-deep soprano
melting right along with mine.
Weight: 13 lbs down
Breakfast: what is breakfast again?
Last workout with Ahmed before the tour: cardio, weights
(equal parts torture and hell)
Lunch: celery, ½ can tuna, sautéed tears
The afternoon rolled in
Four tour buses waited for us
at the edge of the driveway.
It was the first time I saw just
how tight Merc ran his operation
Backup singers and dancers,
all girls,
single file in front of
bus number four.
The band,
all guys,