WMD Ch. 02

Black individuals in this town had raped her and other Blacks had covered it up. Theo had avenged her and paid for that with five years of his freedom. Had the Kingston's Black police force simply pursued a proper course of justice, then those seven men would have gotten what the law allowed ~ and be out of jail by now.

Maybe that would have helped Gayle Fonteneau's emotional wounds heal. That didn't happen though. That injustice explained why Mom had initially run away from Dad. She'd suffered at the hands of law enforcement and she carried that distrust and disgust with her into her first meeting with Dad.

That had to be some awkward emotional gymnastics on her part.

"Oh, come on now," Mom chortled. "Leon is in a nice assisted-care living facility and Roscoe is in a coma just down the hall from him."

"What happened to Le ... your brother, Mrs. Malik?" I asked.

"According to the reconstructive specialist in Austin he was hit 27 times with a crowbar - that's what happened," she spat at my Mother. "Even now his face doesn't look right and he's one step above a vegetable."

"You took Aunt Matilda's hush money," Mom gloated. "You all did."

"That doesn't mean your brother wasn't a psycho, racist bastard," Dom shot back.

"Bullshit, Dominique. Your Daddy made the town accept Aunt Mattie's deal because she was bringing in the Arkansas State Police (ASP) to investigate Theo's defense claims and that would have fried the whole lot of you," Mom ignored Dom's snit. Seeing my disbelief, she told me, "Back in 1986, the ASP had its fair share of White racists."

"Had those seven not been guilty as sin ..." she glared at the Mayor, "maybe Theo wouldn't have gone Rambo on this burgh."

"Enough!" I intervened. "This is not helping us with the problem at hand. Right now, all Mikhail and I are worried about is whether Mr. Malik is going to come home tonight pissed off, drunk off his ass, or both."

"Why should you care?" Madame Mayor turned my way. Mom started laughing which only made the woman angrier.

"Because unlike you, me and most of this town, my boys are decent individuals who actually give a crap about strangers, regardless of their melatonin levels," she snorted. She made eye contact with Mrs. Malik.

"Don't blame me," Mom chuckled. "I would be much happier of your shiftless shit of a husband came back and beat the fuck out of you and your daughter. To me, that would be poetic justice for what your father let him get away with."

"No happening, Mom," I declared. "Mikhail and I are eighteen now so you can't make us go home. If he's really a threat ..."

"And you can't trust the police," Mom sneered at Dom. "Your police force, Dominique."

"You are one twisted cock-whore," Dom riposted.

"Seven young men assaulted me," Mom snarled. "Three weren't around when Theo caught up with the other four. "Charles Baker was one of them. The other was Demetrius Quinterre. These days he is the Chief of Police."

"Charles Baker is Chinedu Malik now?" I requested.

"Yeah," Mom beamed hostility Mamma Malik's way. "The fall after 'it' happened, Charles went to Arkansas State on a football scholarship and changed his name to something more 'African'. If he thinks it made it so that Theo couldn't find him, he's sorely mistaken."

"Where is your crazy brother anyway?"

"Which one?" Mom snorted. "I've got a few."

"Theo, you crazy cunt."

"He joined the US Army straight out of the academy. He ended up in Ranger School then the Green Beret," Mom updated her. "Now he's a contract killer for God-knows who. You, the FBI and the US military all are curious about his whereabouts."

"That's ..." Dominique looked at me. What can I say? I have an honest face. "Do you believe that?" she asked me.

"Madame Mayor, I've talked to the men from Fort Bragg who have come calling. How to put this ... Uncle Theo is exceedingly eccentric ~ beyond what Mom is."

In a normal situation, this would be when the concerned wife asked if her husband was in danger from my lunatic uncle. Not Mrs. Malik. Hell, a martyred husband killed by a violent racist would be a big boost to her career. It would also remove any chance of her hubby blowing up the situation with Riley, thus Riley's Sugar-Daddy. I could almost see the cold, calculating wheels turning behind her eyes.

"That's hardly encouraging. Fine ... Gayle, you can get out. Vlad, I'm going to make some phone calls. Why don't you see what your brother has gotten up to," the Mayor commanded. Mom shot me a wink when Mrs. Malik pulled out her phone.

"Bring home the pot and basket when you leave," she advised me. She took my arm and pulled me to the door.

"You have your toiletries and fresh clothes in the bag (the big, brown paper one she'd arrived with). Then, as she hugged me, she shoved something into my front, left pocket. That weekend with the Vegas hookers paid off - I recalled the crinkly sound condom wrappers make. "For Mikhail," she whispered. He was being given her 'okay' to any sexual missteps that might happen if we weren't sent straight home.

I imagined most teenage boys would be thrilled to have their mothers handing them some condoms and silently wishing them luck. Not me. This was some fucked-up shit Mikhail, Alexander and I had stepped into. Mom turned without further advice and went to Dad's black '2012 F-150' pick-up truck. I closed the door, then went looking for the ladies.

Dominique had taken Riley into the living room. The younger woman was sitting contritely on the sofa while the Mayor quietly brow-beat whomever was on the other end of that phone conversation. I spared them a look, knew I wasn't needed, or wanted, so I went for the stairs.

"Taliyah - Mikhail - Dinner's here," I called up. I remained at the bottom of the stairs until Mikhail showed himself.

"Was that Mom?" he calmly inquired.

"Yeah. She's gone now," I gave a wry grin. "It is safe you two to come down." A few seconds later, Taliyah appeared.

"What is it?" she was referring to dinner.

"Whatever Kamika cooked for us," I replied. She shrugged, clearly upset with the past few minutes of her life. She still came down. She'd missed lunch unless you counted cum swallowed, then had cheerleader workouts, horse-riding and a sex-session with my brother. Mikhail was perpetually hungry as was the norm for growing boys our age and metabolisms.

The remarkable thing was her reaction to Mikhail and his blasé attitude. He wasn't walking on eggshells, as Alexander would have, or being sympathetic, like me. Mikhail was being Mikhail ~ Taliyah's problems weren't his concern so he wasn't intruding. If she wanted some emotional input from him, she'd have to do the 'reaching out'.

We doled out portions. Taliyah started with three bowls (for the host of baby-back pork ribs) and plates for the potatoes, carrots and string beans. I motioned for two more. She mentally debated my request before complying. Kamika must have packed a family of eight. There was plenty to spare.

After the meal was apportioned, I took two plates and a glass of Pomegranate Juice (Taliyah poured for her Mom) and a glass of lemonade for Riley. I juggled the lot as I traipsed into the living room. The conversation stopped when I appeared. I didn't engage either with eye contact, though I could tell Dominique resented me serving dinner to her guest. I retreated with the same grace I'd exhibited entering.

The two high-schoolers had attacked the ribs with gusto.

"Mmmm ... these are some damn fine ribs," Taliyah waved a freshly-cleaned bone my way. "No wonder the men in your family are so damn huge." Right as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she shot Mikhail a dirty look, daring him to make a snide aside about the size of his cock. Mikhail didn't take the bait.

"Give Kamika a call around noon-time. She'll add a place-setting for you at the dinner table," he replied after vigorously sucking the meat off his fourth victim. That was the opposite of what she expected a man - a Black man - to say. She'd never had a possibly sexually suggestive chat with a White guy.

"The food's not so good I'd want to spend time with you," she poked him.

"I'm not hot to re-experience your she-devil bitchiness either, Taliyah," he teased her. "I've got to accept that Brandy's going to keep putting a sappy smile on Vlad's face and that suggests they'll crawl out of bed long enough to get some food."

"We are NEVER going to have sex again," she wacked his hand with a fresh rib, leaving a saucy mark.

Mikhail licked the sweet substance off while keeping eye contact with the girl. She refused to back down from his provocation. My brother responded by tenderly poking her lips with a fresh rib. She kept her mouth closed yet couldn't keep the smile from her face. She countered by presented piece of meat in front of him. Mikhail caught the offering in his teeth and shook it hungrily.

Now I felt like the one who should tell them to get a room. The two began making messes of each other's faces with sloppy feedings of one another before including me in the game. It was so engrossing, we three missed Mrs. Malik coming into the kitchen and catching us at play.

"Taliyah, what - are - you - doing?" her mother clipped off each world.

"I'm keeping the White boys quiet," the daughter thought quickly on her feet.

"Oh, that's what you call it," Dominique's eyebrow arched. "It looks more like your flirting with them both."

"What!" Taliyah squalled. "I hate Mikhail ... Vlad's okay. He treats Brandy like she matters, not the way Darius does. He treats her like a cum dumpster."

"I thought you wanted to be with Darius?" Dom studied her daughter intently.

"Well ... I've changed my mind. His whole attitude ~ the 'I'm a football stud' is getting too pricey for my tastes," she clarified. "Rashaan has his head so far up Darius' ass that's stopped being funny too."

"Taliyah, if you stop dating Rashaan, you won't be popular," mom protested.

"Listen to your mother," Mikhail agreed. "Look how well hooking up with a football star worked out for her." Waves of furious emotions radiated from mom. Taliyah's reaction was far more direct.

"You bastard!" Taliyah swore before she punched him in the upper arm. She was starting to cry.

Chine may have been a raging prick to Samsonov eyes, but he was Taliyah's Daddy.

"Fuck," he exaggerated. "What makes you think ... ow," he recoiled as she began to rain blows down on his upper arm and chest. Tears started to stream down her face as she pummeled my brother who took his beating like a champ.

"You are such a ... a ..." she stammered.

"Neanderthal?" he volunteered. Two more blows were her response then her attacks lost strength and direction. Mikhail wrapped her up in his arms as she sobbed into the crux of his arm and chest.

"Feel free to hate me as much as you need to," he held her tight. "I'm not that fond of you either." He kept her close for another minute.

"I'll take her upstairs," Mikhail told Dominique. He kept an arm around her shoulders to aid her direction and off they went. The Mayor looked my way.

"I don't know what's up with that," I shrugged. "Mikhail really is a jerk most of the time. Heck, he's the biggest bastard of the three of us ~ the most like Mom's dark side, so I'm not sure what he's doing being nice to your daughter."

"If he does something to her," she threatened me. Her eyes went past me to Riley who had come to the open doorway. "Don't you start thinking you can be leaving," she aimed her prodigies' way. "I'm not done with you."

"Besides, he's still out there," I meant Mr. Malik. "He's likely to do something irrational that both of you will regret."

"Why should you care? You are a Fonteneau," the Mayor grumbled in an accusatory voice.

"I'm not sure," I shrugged. "I trust my Mom a lot more than I believe your version of events. From what I know of Uncle Theo, if he wasn't sure justice had been done, he'd have come back here already."

"The fact you are choosing to revisit this tragedy now makes me wonder when I'll see him again," I tacked on.

"Ah, could I have some more of those ribs?" Riley extended her plate. She needed to finish her veggies.

"All that pork is going straight to those fat hips and big butt, Girl," the Mayor cruelly teased her.

Riley was embarrassed. I stood up from the kitchen table, took Riley's plate, and filled it with the portions of meat Taliyah and Mikhail had left behind. That seemed to mollify her to the point she felt good enough to walk, with her plate, back to the living room.

"You shouldn't be nice to her," the Mayor cautioned me. "She's just another whore for Black Cock. Another White girl freak beneath the sheets."

That the Mayor was likely one as well wasn't something I felt I should bring up at the moment. Instead of arguing, I began to clean up the kitchen, putting the leftovers in Tupperware containers, washing the plates and then the pot and food containers. All the while, Dominique watched me work.

"I thought you had domestic help," she said condescending tone.

"A) any kind of help is something new to us boys and Dad. B) Mom insists we all pitch in and help out. That means washing cookware and plates after meals, haul fertilizer and taking away yard debris and cleaning our rooms. We have chores."

"That defeats the purpose of having servants," she insisted.

"That house is huge, the 'help' could use the help, chores remind us we all need to work together and it teaches us not to take people for granted," I repeated my Mom's words from our first day in the house.

"Your clan used to be such snobs - looking down on all us Black folks."

"However the Fonteneau acted was before our time, Madam Mayor ..."

"Call me Dominique, or Mrs. Malik in my home, Vladimir. You are Vladimir, right?" she said.

"Yes Dominique, I'm Vlad, the middle one. Alexander is oldest, so he's the most mature, I'm the middle triplet, so I'm the best mix of Mom and Dad, and Mikhail is the youngest so he's always out to prove himself."

"Fascinating," she responded drolly. "Stay out of the way while I deal with Riley. I'll get her squared away then deal with you and your brother." With that, she walked off to give Riley another huge piece of her mind, rage and frustration. As I was putting up the pot to dry, the doorbell rang. I heard Mamma Malik's heels click on the marble floors as she stormed over to the door.

"Demetrius, what are you doing here?" I heard he say from the door.

"I heard you were having some problem with those Samsonov boys," he announced. "I'm here to make sure everything is okay."

"You mean my worthless, cheating husband sent you over to make them leave," she groused.

"He might have indicated they were causing you problems," the Police Chief allowed. "Let me pour those Cornfeds into their car and send them home."

"No," Dominique's voice cracked the whip of authority. "He is out whoring and drinking and that means he ain't coming home tonight ~ end of story."

"I'll leave Oliver with a patrol car watching your place if that is the case," he tried to mollify her.

"On really," she mocked him. "You, Chinedu and Oliver are all drinking buddies. You and your cronies aren't going to keep my husband's drunk ass from darkening my doorway. You let Chine know he's not welcome here tonight."

"Dom, you are being unreasonable," the cop leader cooed. I didn't have to imagine him touching her. The Kingston cops were far too touchy-feely with women.

"Don't you touch me, you poltroon," she blasted him. I wondered if he even knew what a poltroon was. He knew it was an insult though.

"Listen up, Dominique," his voice grew low and threatening. That was my cue.

"Madam Mayor, is everything okay?" I stepped into the hallway. Demetrius' eyes latched onto me before turning his sneer the Mayor's way.

"Why, don't he look cozy," he accused Dominique.

"Buddy," I wasn't going to call him an 'officer', or 'Chief', "Mom just enlightened me to what you and Chine did to her all those years ago. Statute of Limitations may have passed, but don't you think the Samsonov's consider justice to be done."

"I also know that any crime involving you and a Deputy's son automatically brings in the Arkansas State Police. Cross that portal and you cease being a concerned police officer and become a home invader," I channeled my father and all his kin going back a dozen generations.

"How about I arrest you for trespassing?" he want for his 'bracelets' while his right hand rested on the butt of his piece.

"My house, Demetrius and I've invited him and his brother in. Believe me, Dem, if you don't hot-foot it off my property then my next call WILL be to the State Police reporting YOU for criminal trespass," she growled at the cop.

"So, you've become an Oreo?" he mocked her. "I can't wait to hear what the town council has to say about that."

"Consider they are the same crowd who invited Dr. Pierre O'Rourke Jean-Georges to be our Principle for the next ten months ..." I began my counter-mock.

"Five years," the Mayor glowered at the Chief. "The school board ~ which you are on, Demetrius ~ gave that freakazoid a five year contract."

"Holy Shit," I gasped. I thought he was a plague with a one year duration. There was going to be a whole high school experience with that nut at the helm.

"Madame Mayor, are you on the School Board?"

"Not this year, Vladimir," she replied while continuously coruscated at the top cop. "I resigned last Spring so I could concentrate on my campaign for the open State Senate seat.

"Good for you," I congratulated her. "Chief Quinterre, you need to be going. Oh, and don't forget that Uncle Theo is still on the CIA's Ten Most Wanted and hasn't forgotten your name." He blanched.

"Boy," he shook a finger at me. Dominique had seen enough. "You and I aren't ..." She slowly closed the door in his face in mid threat.

"Your uncle is on the CIA's Ten Most Wanted List?" she looked at me curiously.

"Not that I know of. I don't even think the CIA has such a thing. He is more of a contract killer who works overseas than a domestic terrorist," I shrugged. "I don't think any of the people hunting Uncle Theo down plan to have him stand trial."

"Boy, your Mama has filled your head with all kind of crazy ideas," Dominique advised me.

"Fair enough," I allowed. I trusted Mom and Uncle Theo more than I trusted her and her ilk. Arguing the point was pain for no gain.

"I'll stay out of your way until you need me," I backed off. My first concern was Mikhail. I padded upstairs stealthily and followed the sounds of sobbing. Taliyah was in her four-poster bed, face down in a pillow; probably having the worse day of her young life. Mikhail was sitting on the floor near the foot of her bed, playing a game on his phone. I kept out of sight.

"Get out of my room," she mumbled.

"Make me," Mikhail didn't bother looking up from his diversion.

"I said 'get out'," she repeated with a bit more energy.

"My ears work just fine ~ thanks for asking," he sounded bored.

"You are an asshole," she twisted her torso so she could look down at the top of his head. He didn't physically respond.

"Good to know."

"I called you an asshole," she repeated with more resentment.

"You aren't the first one to say that. I doubt you'll be the last," his apathy shown through.

"Get out," she simmered. "Get out now!" He stopped playing, swiveled his head until he had eye contact.

"I don't think so," he provoked her. "You aren't nearly aggravated enough."

She yanked her pillow out from beneath her comforter and bopped him on the head with it. I couldn't see his face, but I knew he was giving her a mischievous smirk. She whaled away, getting onto her knees so she could put more 'oomph' into swings. First Mikhail raised up his left arm to defend himself.