CH 6: What did you expect?

For the past two weeks, my phone has been ringing with job calls from Jess instead of Elio turns out he was out of the country visiting with some family in Italy.

As I sit in this Cuban diner with Jess, surrounded by the aroma of authentic Cuban food, the lively chatter of the Cuban people blends with the rhythmic beats of Cuban music. The melodic tunes evoke a sense of nostalgia, even though I ain't ever before immersed myself in this vibrant culture.

Jess tells me the music that's playing was Afro-Cuban. "Daymé Arocena." And he goes on to tell me she was his favorite artist.

I ain't know shit on the menu and Jess kind of explains what each dish was. When a waitress comes to take our order I get a Cuban sandwich.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked Jess.

His shoulders hop a little. "Go ahead."

"Does Elio kill people?"

There's a long silence from Jess. He looks around the diner before his eyes settle back on me.

"Depends. The guy usually has people to handle his more dirty work," he said.

I drove by Yemaya's place a couple of days ago. Knocked on the door. No answer. Called her cell. No answer. Texted her. No answer.

Eventually, her family reports her missing. I was the last person to see her before Elio did away with her.

Our food came. Jess takes a spoonful of his soup blowing on it for a bit then he lowers the spoon.

"You want to go to the police right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Her family is stressed and it's all my fault their daughter is gone."

"Listen Houston is a large city that Elio invested money into. From politicians to all local police departments."

"Okay?" 

Jess shakes his head. "You don't get it do you?"

"What is it I'm supposed to be getting?"

"You think them police out there searching for that girl? They are probably telling her momma and daddy they are doing all they can."

And my stomach dropped and I wasn't hungry anymore. I left the diner and stopped at Yemaya's parents ' place --I sat in my car for a little while trying to gather what I wanted to say.

Three swift knocks on the door. Her mama opens the door and as soon as she sees it was me she crumbles into tears -- I try to soothe her the best I can.

Inside she offers me some tea. We sat in the kitchen. Her husband sat in the living room with the news on.

"Sorry, I ain't come by sooner," I said. "Is there anything I can do?"

But what right did I have to come here when it was my fault she was gone in the first place? What did I tell her mama? Oh, this guy I work for had your daughter taken, maybe killed because of me.

"Nobody ain't seen nothing the night she was taken. And I find that hard to believe with all them people at that place. The police are just dragging their asses. She's black they don't care."

I heard the news anchor on TV saying something about Yemaya, there were still no leads, and if anyone knew anything they should come forward.

If I called Elio...and...and what, Everest? I left without saying anything else to her mama. The police station was the last place I wanted to be.

I ain't ever given information or ratted a person out. A police officer working the desk looks at me with annoyance in his eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"Um yeah, I got something on that Yemaya situation."

I read his name on the badge pinned to his uniform: Officer Hank. He picked up his phone, pressed a few buttons, and started talking to someone. They talk for a good minute. He looks at me and hangs up the phone.

"Just have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly." he waves me off.

It doesn't take long for an older white guy to come to Hank's desk. Speak to him for a bit. Hank points over in the direction I'm sitting in.

He walks over to me with one of those fake smiles. He introduced himself as Detective John. I'm led through the station to a room.

"Can I get your name?"

"What for?"

"For the statement." Detective John clicked his pen motioning for me to sit at the steel table.

"Everest Jensen."

"Okay, Everest, what is it that you know?"

"I know what happened to Yemaya. Well, I know who's behind her disappearance."

He writes in the yellow notepad. "And who would that be?"

"Elio Bianchi."

He gives me a look and laughs. "Elio Bianchi? And you think he's behind her disappearance?"

"I don't think. I know."

He writes. Pauses. Writes again. "And I'm sure you know the trouble you can be in for making a false statement?"

"What?"

"Saying Elio Bianchi is behind this girl's disappearance is a bold thing to say." 

We stare at each other and I think back to what Jess told me at the diner and I still brought my black ass to the police station on some whim of a fucking hope they'd believe me?

"You gonna do something about it?" I nearly yell.

Detective John tapped the pen on the yellow notepad. He drops the pen, gets up, leaves the room for a minute, and returns.

He stands behind the chair he had been sitting in. His hands rest on the back of it just gripping a little tighter.

"How about this," he said. "You leave here. Or You get booked for possession of drugs, and human trafficking."

"Yo, what the fuck?" I shot up from the chair, and it hit the floor with a loud bang.

"Those are your options." he smiled.

"I told you Elio Bianch—" 

He raised his hand, cutting me off. "I know what you told me and I gave you your options so which is it going to be, son?"

So I left. I sat in my car hitting my fists against the steering wheel. A few deep breaths In and a few deep breaths out. My phone rings. Elio. The first time he called me in weeks.

"You need to bring Yemaya back," I said. "Like right now!"

He signs into the phone but doesn't say anything. People are in the background of his call. It gets quieter without the extra voices.

"Mr. Jensen, I can't do that."

"You can! You fucking can!" My hands shake.

"No, I can't."

"Why fucking can't you Elio?!?" I shouted into the phone.

"She's dead."

My loud heartbeat replaced the noises from the outside world—No noises of cars, city buses, or the muffled voices of people walking by. Just the pounding of my heart.

She's dead...

I threw my phone in the passenger seat and stared out the windshield. A heavy feeling settles in my chest then the tears start. I struggled to breathe. Nothing doesn't feel real right now — I imagine Yemaya being at her place, in a head-wrap on, a thin white shirt that goes just above her navel, a long light brown skirt that kisses her toes, her records playing as the sun pours in through the living room window, warming her dark skin, and she'd softly sing Next Lifetime by Erykah Badu. But still, that image of her wasn't real.

*** 

I lost track of how many days passed, and weeks, too. Now I'm in some cheap suit staring at a closed casket. It broke me to see her mother lay in front of Yemaya's casket sobbing and screaming for her baby back. Her husband kneeled beside her, rubbing her back, no expression on his face. He's trying to stay strong for the sake of his wife.

After the pastor said a few more words, the servers came to an end. At the gravesite, everyone laid their roses on top of Yemaya's casket. I said a silent prayer in my head. A gloved hand dropped a rose on her casket and I looked at the person beside me. Elio.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked.

"Paying my respect."

"You're fucking sick, you know that?"

The nerve of this guy to show up at her burial. Paying his respect? Was he trying to be funny? I placed my rose on top of her casket — I wasn't staying to watch it be lowered into the ground; no that was too much to bear.

Elio follows me to my car. He doesn't say a word for a full minute and pisses me off. And maybe I didn't learn my lesson from what happened to Yemaya, but I spun around and punched Elio in the face. It's like the punch ain't phase him one bit, blood trickled from his nose, down to his lips, and chin. He smiles at me, takes a step closer and my back hits into my car.

His hand clamped tightly onto my face, his grip rough and unyielding. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against mine, the taste of his blood mingling with the wetness on my own lips. Aware of the curious gazes from passersby, I resisted the urge to push him away, knowing it would only escalate his aggression. I sank my teeth into his lip, hoping to deter him, but it failed to deter his relentless advances.

"Give me the car key," he said into the kiss.

"I ain't giving you my fucking key."

He pulls away from me a little staring me down with his hand out, "Now, Mr. Jensen."

So I give him my car key and we end up at my place. Elio was in the shower and said something about he couldn't fuck if he felt dirty and that put me on edge. Because I never said we was fucking or what even gave him the idea that we might fuck?

 I'm sitting on the edge of my bed like some nervous 15-year-old who is about to have sex for the first time -- Elio steps out of the bathroom with a town loosely hanging around his waist exposing his v-cut. I noticed he's tanner.

"How do you want to do this?" he asked, dropping the towel and shit I didn't even know he was that big when he was just soft so I can't imagine the size when he's erect.

I scoot a little more to the other side of my bed. "I ain't having sex with you. I just came from a goddamn funeral of the girl I lo–" I didn't even finish the sentence. If I said the whole thing it would have made me face that the little thing I had with Yemaya meant something more to me and something more meant I actually did have some type of feelings for her.

Elio walks over to me and kneels between my legs; he spreads my legs a little wider. "Relax Mio Caro (my dear)." He undoes my pants.

I placed my hand on top of his. "Elio. I ain't doing this shit with you."

"Your father is doing well, isn't he?" He looked at me as he pulled my dick out. "You want him to get better, right?"

"Man, what the fuck my pops gotta do with anything?" Now he's starting to piss me off.

"Do you want to plan a funeral for him?" his voice was calm, his gaze steady. "Mio Caro (my dear) What did you expect? I'm paying for his private suite and treatments. So you giving up some ass whenever I want it shouldn't come with any back-talk or any attitude-having kind of shit."

I bit my tongue tasting blood and now I hate myself, now I feel like some whore that Elio can fuck when he wants and I can't say shit about it.