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Authors: Shakara Cannon

This Can't be Life (36 page)

BOOK: This Can't be Life
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“Hell, I’ll pray for them both.”

 

 

 

 

 

Stacey

 

 

“Tyron, someone is followin’ me. They’ve been tailin' me since I came up Las Virgenes Canyon. What should I do?” I didn’t want to panic, but I was scared shitless. I never even told Tyron about being stalked, and now I was bein’ followed!

“Who do you think it is?” he asked.

“I don’t know. They’re in a black Expedition. I don’t know what to do!”

“Well, first of all, you need to turn around. Don’t come to my house with nobody following you.” He spoke matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean don’t come there? What am I supposed to do? I’m already on PCH,” I whined.

“I don’t know, Stace, but you can’t bring that shit over here. Turn around and go back home or pull into the police station and see what happens. Sorry, Stace,” he said, not soundin’ sorry at all. He didn’t give a shit about what happened to me. He just wanted to protect his own ass. I hung up in his face and threw the phone onto the passenger seat as I pulled into the gas station.

When I first noticed the truck, I didn’t think anything of it. But after I got gas and the damned truck was still a car behind me, I knew somethin’ was up. I made unnecessary turns and u-turns as if I was lost, and still I was bein’ tailed by the Expedition. I pulled up to the pump and stayed in my car, tryin’ to think of what to do. I was so confused and pissed off that I wasn’t scared any more. I was mad. I was mad at whoever was followin’ me and I was beyond angry at Tyron for not givin’ a damn about me. It was obvious that he only cared about protectin' himself.

I pulled out of the gas station and headed back the way I came. I definitely wasn’t goin’ to lead this sicko to my house, but I drove in that direction anyway. I couldn’t see the truck following me anymore and hoped that it was gone, but I kept a close eye on the cars behind me, just in case.

It had been 20 minutes since I started north up the Canyon approaching the 101. I was positive I was no longer bein’ followed, but that didn’t make me feel better. I pulled into yet another gas station — the second Chevron in less than 45 minutes — and rested my head on the red initials stitched into my seat’s head rest as I dialed Simone’s cell.

“I was followed on my way to Tyron’s house, and when I called and told him, he told me not to come over there.” I spat out after she answered.

“Fuck Tyron! What do you mean you were being followed, Stacey? Who was following you? Where are you?” she asked.

“I don’t know, Simone. I don’t know. I’m at the gas station on Las Virgenes off the 101. I don’t know what to do, Monie.”
I can’t believe Tyron didn’t try to help me
, I thought, but I knew better than to speak that aloud.

“Hold on, Stace.” Simone clicked over and I knew just what she was doin’.

“Stacey, you don’t have any idea who was following you?” Talise asked skeptically when Simone clicked back over. Simone must have filled her in quite quickly.

“You know what’s been goin’ on, Tali, Simone. It’s most likely the same sicko that sent me that shit,” I huffed in resignation.

“You have to do something about this immediately, Stacey. This shit is escalating,” Simone insisted.

“She’s right, Stacey. What in the hell will he do next?” Talise asked rhetorically.

“Whoever it is is just tryin’ to scare me.”

“Don’t say shit else, Stacey. Meet us at your house. We’re going to do something about this today or at least get the wheels turning.”

“Right, Simone. We have to stop this, Stacey. You can’t ignore it any longer, babe. It’s real,” Talise stated, tryin’ to convince me of somethin’ she knew I wouldn’t be down for.

We pulled into the North Hollywood Police Station on
Burbank Blvd
, right off of the 170 freeway, with Simone behind the wheel of my truck and Talise in the back seat. We’d met at my house and they convinced me that I needed to file a report. We got all the evidence I’d collected so far: the FedEx box full of unspeakable things and the notes he’d left. We walked into the police station and Simone did all the talkin’. We sat down with a detective and told him the story from beginning to end, deliberately not mentionin' anything about Tryon Marks.

 

 

 

 

 

Talise

 

 

I opened the gate to Malachi’s house with the remote he gave me and went inside the house for the first time with my very own key.

“Malachi?” I yelled as I sat my purse and keys down on the kitchen counter. I always loved staying in his house. Whenever I’m here, I feel calm and serene, especially looking out at the beautiful view of the valley. It had been two whole days since I’d seen Malachi, and I was happy to finally get to spend some time with him.

“Hey, baby.” Malachi walked up to me, put his arms around my waist, and lifted me off the ground. I was in heaven until his lips touched my mouth. I smelled liquor…along with Listerine and toothpaste, but I know I smelled liquor. My body froze in his arms.

“Put me down, Malachi,” I demanded between clenched teeth.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked as he put me down and backed a couple of inches away from me.

“I can’t believe that you’ve been drinking, Malachi! What is wrong with you? You said that you would stop! You said that you didn’t want it any more,” I said as tears poured from my eyes easily, as if on cue. I saw all my dreams shattering because he decided to go back on his word to me and the promise he made to himself.

“Babe, what are you talk…” I cut him off before he could make the irreversible mistake of lying to me.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, Malachi!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Don’t treat me like I’m dumb! I swear to God, Malachi, don’t make that mistake and stand right in my face and tell me a lie! Please don’t,” I pleaded with my eyes.

“Talise, I almost killed someone the other day.” He backed up against the wall and slid down until he was sitting with his knees bent in front of his chest. He was covering his face and I could see his chest heaving from sobs that I couldn’t hear. I sat down beside him without saying a word. My tears were uncontrollable now and my heart was heavy with the reality of his words.

“I was about to go into surgery.” He began slowly and didn’t speak again for another minute if not more, “I was shaking. I couldn’t perform surgery shaking like that, Talise, so I had a drink. I fucked up!”

“Malachi, you have to get professional help. We have to do something! If I can smell liquor on you, your colleagues and your patients can probably smell it, too! You could not have had only one drink. You reek of alcohol, baby,” I said as gently as I could. “You are killing yourself!” I continued when he didn’t respond. “You’re killing yourself and everything that you’ve worked so hard for! You are strong enough to deal with anything! We are strong enough, Malachi! You’re a doctor. You know what drinking does to the body, to the brain!” I was mad and rose from my sitting position beside him. “You said you wanted me to be your wife!” I tried my hardest not to yell, but I was losing.

“You want to be my husband and you want me to nurse you through cirrhosis of the liver and all the other shit that alcoholism causes? You want me to have children by you, children that will be more susceptible to alcoholism because of you?”

“I don’t know what to do, Talise,” he whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” I knelt down in front of him and put my hands on both sides of his face, directing him to look me directly in my eyes. “You know exactly what to do, baby. What would your grandparents say, Malachi? You are a wonderful man and a wonderful doctor. Don’t let this win,” I whispered. “Please don’t let it win. Don’t choose this over me! Don’t do this to yourself! Babe, go get dressed right now, I’m taking you to a treatment center. You can’t do this on your own, we’ve already tried that and it’s not working,” I said gently, trying to convince him.

As Malachi dressed, I packed some clothes for him. I already had a list of treatment facilities, but I could only remember one off hand since I didn’t have the list with me. I called information and got the address and telephone number for Capo Beach Treatment Program in
Capistrano Beach
,
California
, which was an hour and a half away. I looked them up on the Internet when Malachi first admitted to having a problem and saw their beautiful facility on the beach. They were the only place I called and thankfully, they had an opening. They said they would take him immediately.

“What about my patients, Talise?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, fully clothed.

“What about you, Malachi?” I asked exasperatedly, with my hand on my hip.

“I’ll call the hospital on the way,” he said, before I extended my hand for him to take. As he did, I knew that he was on his way to fight a battle that may be one of the hardest he’s ever had to fight. I knew that if he just asked, God would help him.

 

 

 

 

 

Simone

 

 

When I got home, there was a small box waiting in the lobby for me. I noticed that the return address had my “mother”, Marie Dubois’, name on it. I wondered what could possibly be inside and wasted no time getting into the house to see. I opened the box and emptied its contents onto the kitchen counter. I was confused when a stack of enveloped letters and what looked like greeting cards wrapped in a rubber band, plopped onto the counter. I didn’t get their significance until I opened the first letter. Tears immediately streamed from my eyes when I realized they were from my real mother. I took them to my room, sat in the middle of my bed, put them in date order from oldest to newest, and began reading.

After reading her letters, I knew that she loved me. That thought alone warmed me. There were over three dozen letters and cards from her, all pleading to see me and begging to be a part of my life. There were Christmas cards, birthday, Easter, Thanksgiving, Valentine’s Day — she didn’t miss a holiday. Reading those letters and cards made me cry with happiness because my mother did love me! Why she let my dad take me and that evil woman raise me I don’t know, but there had to be a good reason.

All that time I wondered why my mother always treated me like she didn’t even like me, let alone love me, then, come to find out, the bitch isn’t even my real mother. That explained why it was so easy for her to let me practically raise myself and live with Talise and her parents. I actually felt relieved to know that I wasn’t
Marie’s
child and that I didn’t have any of that family’s blood running through my veins. What type of woman wouldn’t grow to love a child that she’s raised from birth? That’s some coldhearted, sick shit, and that’s why I’d hit her again if I had the opportunity. I don’t feel one little bit of remorse for knocking her out. Actually, I play it over and over in my head because the feeling was priceless.

Slightly rejuvenated, I put all of the letters and cards back into the box, grabbed my keys, and headed to Mommy Miles’. When I pulled up, I was surprised to see Talise’s car parked out front, but was happy that she was here. I got out of the car, used my key, and let myself in.

“Hey, it’s me. Where you guys at?” I yelled, dropping my keys on the table in the foyer.

“We’re in Mom’s bedroom,” I heard Talise yell from down the long hall. I made my way into the bedroom where Talise was sitting on the foot of the bed, applying a fresh coat of paint to Mommy Miles’ toes.

BOOK: This Can't be Life
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