“He is a giant with hard tight muscles. Dark gritted skin and a knife tattoo on his arm. Gold teeth with cigarette smoke coming from his wide nostrils. The eyes are black and cold. I can’tbeat him. I can’t,” Marquise said with gritted teeth and his eyes popped open.
Tears rushed down his face as I pulled him into me. Dr. June remained in her seat as he cried, allowing me to lend comfort and caress his head. It took him twenty minutes to calm down, including walking. Once he sat back down, we proceeded.
“Marquise, are you in a place where I can recount who you described as the villain?” Dr. June asked.
He peered down at me and back at her. “Yes, I need to know who I explained. I can’t focus on basketball without knowing,” he said.
“Marquise, you describe a man with a muscular build. He has dark skin with a knife tattoo and gold teeth. He was a smoker and black cold eyes as your villain,” Dr. June said.
Again, we sat in silence. I knew Toni wasn’t the bad guy, but I sensed it by her tears. Malcolm also mentioned she was a victim, too. This therapy session was not meant for me to try to sympathize with my father. Maybe street justice did have a role in the world, but who was he to decide?
“Toni isn’t my villain, but why do I hate her?” Marquise asked Dr. June.
“That is up for you to decide. It could be for a variety of reasons, including access. I believe you have to deal with Winston before you can see Toni,” she said.
Marquise kissed my temple and strengthened the hold on my hand.
“Is it possible for me to... not hate Toni?” Marquise asked.
I squeezed his hand as I too wanted the same thing for him. The brief time I spent with Toni, she seemed to be a nice person. Somewhere deep down, I knew the little boy within him wanted his mother.
“If you keep showing up for yourself, creating boundaries and safe places, I believe you can have the relationship you desire,” Dr. June said to Marquise, but her eyes traveled to me.
In some way, she knew I needed those words for myself.
Chapter Fifteen
Travel
Marquise
Later today, I would be playing game seven of the Basketball League Finals, but no one knew I was here. I couldn’t chance telling Malcolm because he would talk me out of it. If I wanted to regain control of my life, I needed to face my villain, the monster who haunted me. The gray walls and concrete floors unnerved me as I sat in the plastic chairs.
“Marquise,” the guard said, and I stood from my seat.
A loud buzzing sound went off and the door unlatched. The guard met me in the hallway, guiding me to a room filled with glass cubicles and phones.
“Number three,” the overweight, bald, Black man said.
I gathered myself and slowly strolled toward the end, counting down the numbers. Reaching the number three spot, I took my seat, and those cold, dead eyes glared at me. He was a shell of himself, although his frame remained the same. The monstrous attitude he used to terrorize me with had disappeared.
He picked up the phone first, and I followed.
“Are you here to tell me I’m a piece shit the same way Malcolm did? Shit, he said enough,” Winston said.
I glared back at him because this was new information to me. Malcolm hadn’t mentioned Winston since the day Anissa rescued us.
“Ha... You didn’t know he came to see his daddy. I thought twins could sense each other. You took enough ass beatings for him,” Winston said.
The more I stared at him, the fear his menacing figure once held diminished. Once I realized Winston could no longer emotionally and physically hurt me, the little kid within me grew up.
“Yeah, Anissa made y’all soft, she got you calling some other man daddy. I’m ya daddy and I hear Toni finally found you. I hid from that bitch. I warned her in the hospital either be my hoe or I was going to take y’all. She sucked my dick without an issue. I might as well get paid for her talents. When are you going to put money on my books? I made y’all. Where the fuck is my appreciation and you...”
I hung up the phone without saying a word. Before I came here, I had an entire speech prepared to curse him out. Winston’s mouth continued to move with those cold, dead eyes. He knocked on the window and pointed toward the phone, but I sat back and watched him unravel. The motion of his mouth suggested he was cursing. Winston pounded the glass with his fist when I didn’t answer. The guards restrained him, and I watched, seeing myself in his explosive outburst. For years, I’d subjected my family and friends to this behavior, and I owed everyone an apology. After the guard hit Winston with the stick, I abandoned my seat and my trauma.
“Yo, Marquise and Malcolm, your family is here. They should be in the box as we speak,” the security guard said.
I exited my seat with Malcolm following behind. Nothing was going to stop me from seeing my family. I've been emotional since I left the prison this morning. If I hugged Malcolm again, he’d probably fight me. Getting off the elevator to the suites, I hugged the first family member I could get my hands on, Pops.
