“You seriously expect me to believe that you would have given up drugs for us to have a baby? Get the fuck outta here, Ciara,” I wanted to laugh in her face, but that would be pushing it.
“You never even gave me the chance. You never spoke about kids, Snow. I would have gladly tried to give you a baby. Instead, you run off with that pathological liar and give her what I would have gladly done for you without so much as a second thought. I fucking hate you, Snow. I hate you!” She was a mere couple of feet away from me.
Ciara’s finger began to squeeze the trigger, and I knew right then it was either her or me. I already said I’d be damned if this was the way I left this earth. I had to make a decision, so I sprang forward and grabbed the gun. Ciara held on for dear life; the gun swung to the left and then to the right.
Pow!A single shot erupted in the quiet of the kitchen. I froze; my breath stopped instantly. I’d been shot. Had I been shot? Ciara began gasping for air, and her eyes started rolling in the back of her head.
“S-s-Snow,” she said, my name in short gasps, before her body went limp in my arms.
“Oh fuck, Ciara,” I held on to her as I looked at the middle of her chest. A small red dot soaked through her clothing, and before I knew what was happening. That small dot grew intothe size of a grapefruit. Ciara stared at me as I held her. Her breathing was erratic, then it slowed until it stopped altogether.
“Ciara!” I called out to her, but her eyes just stared at me, not blinking or moving. Ciara was dead, and I killed her. Even if it was an accident, I still killed her. I hugged her for a minute, or maybe it was five. I had no idea; time seemed to slip away from me. I didn’t know if I was coming or fucking going. I’m not sure how long I sat there on the floor until I gently placed Ciara on the tiles on her back. I closed her dead eyes before standing up.
With my hands on top of my head, I wondered what to do. Calling 911 was something us Riccis never did; getting the police involved in our family’s affairs was suicide.
I grabbed a fistful of my curly mohawk as I thought long and hard. What the fuck was I supposed to do now? Doubling over, I put my hands on both knees as I looked down at my dead wife.
“Shit.” There was only one person I knew I could call to help me with this. Taking a deep breath, I rushed up the stairs and made my way into my bedroom. I found my phone and dialed the number. I listened to the phone ring until, finally, on the fourth ring, my call was answered.
“The fuck you want nigga?” My brother answered in his usual cherry voice.
“I need your help,” I said, wanting to sniff a line so fucking bad, my nose burned.
Buddha and I stood in the kitchen, looking down at Ciara lying in her pool of blood. Buddha exhaled loudly before he leaned against the granite counter and folded his arms.
“Did you tell anyone else? You called Tomasso,” he asked, turning to me. I shook my head at his question.
“Na, just you,” I replied, pinching between my eyes. My head was pounding to the point where I felt it was about to explode.
“What the fuck do we do here, Snow?” Buddha asked me when I was hoping he would provide a solution to this very fucked up problem.
“That’s why I called you nigga,” I said, looking at my brother, annoyed. His brain wasn’t moving quickly enough for me. Buddha turned to me and made a face.
“Yeah, now you need me. Now you wanna listen and need my expertise. Why the fuck didn’t you listen when I told you to end things with Angel?” he just had to rub that in. He couldn’t just shut the fuck up and tell me what I needed to hear. I sucked my teeth and began pacing the floor.
“Should I call her mother, let her know Ciara shot herself?” I asked, scratching my scalp. Buddha looked at me as though I was the dumbest mothafucka on the planet.
“Idiota(idiot) who commits suicide by shooting themselves in their chest?” Buddha asked me with an irritated look on his face.
“Well, I don’t see you coming up with a plan!” I said, beginning to feel as if the walls were closing in on me.
“You already know what we have to do,” Buddha said. I began shaking my head because that was the last thing I wanted to hear.
“The pigs? Na, I can’t let her go out like that.” I shook my head even more. Those pigs were Buddha’s idea; he was the one who came up with the idea to have a pig farm for the sole purpose of getting rid of bodies.
“So what the fuck do you plan on doing? Why did you even call me if you know you didn’t plan on taking my advice?” I thought about his question as I stared at Ciara, and my chest felt heavy because I knew this was the only solution.
Hopping on top of the countertop, I bent my head as I thought about my predicament. My eyes were closed as I heard Buddha light a cigarette; the familiar smell filled my nostrils. He tapped my knee and handed it to me. Saying nothing, I took it from him and inhaled deeply.
“What do I even say to her mother? How am I going to explain Ciara’s disappearance?” I asked, sighing softly, handing my brother his cigarette back. We both stayed quiet as we thought about my question.
“Tell them she left you. Let her mother know she found out that you were cheating on her, and she packed her shit and bounced.” Buddha’s solution was fine and all except for one thing.
“She’ll never believe that. Ciara would never leave without calling her to say something. Hearing it from me won’t cut it; she’ll need to see Ciara or something,” Buddha handed me the cigarette. I could tell he was thinking deeper.
“Technology has evolved; we’ll need to use that shit,” I looked at him, confused by what he meant.
“The fuck does that even mean?” I shrugged, confused.
