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    Out of the Ashes

Fiction by Sheila B Goram

CHAPTER 7

Agent Williams knew she had her work cut out for her. If she wanted to make this bust stick, she would need all her contacts, and informants that knew anything to be willing to roll over on Cyril Becker. She had been working on this case for more than three years. She knew the case inside and out. This case was a personal vendetta for her. She wanted that murdering bastard Cyril off the streets. She made this case a first priority. It came before everything in her life. What life? This was her life. This case and all the key players is her life; the men and women who made up this dirty lifestyle and made her life hell. These thoughts are what got her through the Police academy. She felt the need to think about that every time she thought of giving up, staying complacent, not moving forward in her career. Agent Williams was finally in the right place at the right time. Being a DEA agent was the best way to get men like Cyril Becker and his cronies off the streets. Agent Williams fought for ten years to get to where she is today. She made sacrifices she could not even begin to remember to get to this point. Agent Williams was so close she could taste it. All she had to do was apply the right amount of pressure. Just the right amount between Jason and his girlfriend Claire, and she would bring down Cyril Becker.

The hate she felt for Cyril was nothing she had to get use to; she blamed him for the loss of her lover. The only man she every loved in her life. The only man she ever allowed herself to love. The only man she ever thought of taking his name and baring his children. In one horribly bad night, he was taken from her; like a missing child from his mother. Cyril crept into her life and stole everything that meant anything to her. He did not seem to care. It was just business to him, she could live with it or not, that was of no concern to Cyril. Agent Williams felt like less of a person without her lover. He was the man her mother would tell her about, the man who would be the best man in the world to her and for her. Agent Williams had him in her grasp and she lost him to that damn Cyril Becker. He was the reason she was alone and unmarried. He was the reason she could not give herself to a man, without holding almost everything back. He was the reason she never allowed herself to get too close to anyone ever. He stole her heart the day he stole her lover.

Agent Janet Williams knew more about Cyril Becker than anyone, she knows more than the FBI, police department, and in her own agency. Cyril and Agent Williams’ lover were the same man. The Cyril she hunted now was not the Cyril she knew and loved as a teenager. He was the man she trusted more than anyone she knew. Cyril was the reason she got up in the morning. Most people thought what they felt for each other was high school kid stuff, but they both knew and know differently. Having Cyril in her life helped her cope with losing her mother to drugs, and her father not being there for her. Cyril was Janet’s touchstone. She loved him more than she ever thought possible. When she heard the word on the street when they were teenagers that Cyril was selling dope, she did not believe it. Janet knew that Cyril knew how much that would hurt her, how that would crush her. Cyril knew how Janet watched her mother die from a heroine overdose. Cyril knew that Janet was the one who found her mother. When the news came to her that Cyril was running drugs for Johnny Boy Black, she knew it had to be a mistake.

Janet was even more disturbed to know that he was selling and running for Black, he was the man who killed her mother. He sold her mother the last hit of heroine that her mother would ever have. Johnny was the reason she had to grow up without a mother. Black was the reason her father was gone all the time, because of all the reminders of his late wife, especially Janet, who looked exactly like his wife. Janet was an only child so she was all-alone, there was no one else, and then she met Cyril. He seemed to just know, he knew how to listen, and talk to her, and take her seriously, he knew how to hold her and kiss her. He knew how to make her feel loved and cherished. Cyril knew how to make her feel like she was the only person in the world for him. Janet knew that she was the only one for him and he was the only man for her. Agent Williams remembered the night she confronted Cyril about his new job. It was a warm June night and school was almost over for Cyril and Janet, they had graduation in three days, and Janet was class valedictorian. She was so proud, she and Cyril had made plans to go to college together, graduate together and she get her masters in English Literature and Cyril told her he wanted to be a doctor. Janet knew that with all the love and support they gave each other anything would be possible. Cyril gave her that; he gave her hope for the future. Hope that everything they wanted was right there at their fingertips all they had to do was work hard and everything they wanted would be there for them. Janet did not want to believe that, Cyril would do something this stupid. Janet believed that it had to be a big mistake, it had to be one of those silly rumors kids start about each other and somehow seems to pick up momentum. Cyril was much too smart for this. His mother and his Uncle Ray would never allow anything like this to happen. Cyril would never want his brother to suffer because of something stupid he did. Cyril always seemed to have Jason best interest at heart. There was no way in Janet’s mind that any of this could be true. When Janet reached Cyril’s front door, she felt her stomach doing flops, she wanted to turn from the door, and run, she wanted to run until she felt better, she wanted to run until she no longer thought anything terrible about her man. Janet wanted to run from this problem, but that was not her way, not even at seven-teen. Janet knew she had to face her problem, or there would always be a question, the unanswered questions always bothered her.

She looked at herself in the clear plastic window in this flimsies silver metal screen door; this door was the door her truth was behind. This door was the door to her future with Cyril; all she had to do was open it and knock on the bigger, sturdier door. Her truth was there; all the truth she needed hidden behind that door like most truths. The truth of her mother’s drug habit hidden behind a door, a real door just like this door; the truth that her mother was a heroine addict was right behind any of her mother’s closed doors. All Janet had to do was open the door, and she could see her mother shooting up, or her mother begging her father for money to support her habit. The truth of her mother stealing all the money Janet saved from birthday’s, chores, and money from a paper route her father let her have for getting straight A’s in fifth grade. Janet witnessed all these truths from the other side of a door. Janet begun to hate thresh holds and to hate to walk through thresh holds. Door always seem to lead to something ugly in Janet’s life, so this thresh hold was just as scary as all the rest in Janet’s life.

She reached around her head and pulled her thick long reddish-brown locks behind her shoulders. She cleared her throat, and adjusted her clothes. Then she opened the door and knocked. As she stood cradled in the doorframe and door, Janet finally heard the locks being turned from the other side of the door. Janet looked at her shoes, wiggled her toes, and she waited for the last lock to be turned and the door to open. She closed her eyes, inhaled, and exhaled very quickly. Finally, the door opened, it was not Cyril it was Mrs. Becker. Janet looked at Mrs. Becker, and she already knew. Janet knew that all the rumors she heard were true, that the man she thought she could count on was a drug runner for Johnny Boy Black. Mrs. Becker’s eyes were red, puffy, and almost swollen shut from crying. Janet thought she could not assume the worst about Cyril, but there was this pit in the bottom of her stomach that made her think that those tears were for Cyril, for a mother who was losing a son, and there was nothing she could do about it. Janet knew those tears all too well; they were the same tears that she cried for her mother.

“Hi, Mrs. Becker,’ Janet said trying to sound normal, ‘is Cyril around?” Janet continued

Mrs. Becker wrapped her arms around herself, and raised her left hand and wiped her cheek and let her hand trace her face to her chin. Then she said, “Janet, Cyril ain’t here and he won’t be here again, as long as he’s doing what he’s doing.” Mrs. Becker’s voice was shaky, it was almost ninety degrees outside, but Mrs. Becker was wearing an old wool gray sweater that she had wrapped around her. Cyril told Janet once, that his mother wore that sweater when she needed to be close to his father. That sweater made her feel like his father was giving her a hug, and holding on tight to her. It was all beat up and the sleeves were rolled up but the elastic was shot so they did not stay. As Janet looked down at Mrs. Becker who was a small woman, as well as short, she saw the gray hair around the edges of the woman’s head. Janet noticed the tight bun Mrs. Becker was wearing today, that she wore everyday. Cyril was so much like his mom, controlled and cool, nothing usually rattled him, but when it did, it got to their core; Janet could see this was at her core.

“Mrs. Becker, please, tell me what happened?” Janet said

“You don’t know? I thought Cyril told you everything.” Then Mrs. Becker looked at Janet she looked at her from head to toe. Mrs. Becker seemed to have a look of disgust on her face, when she said, “I guess he wouldn’t, he been lyin’ to me all this time, why wouldn’t he lie to you too? Cyril gon’ decided that what’s right, ain’t right fo’ him, so I threw him out. He went to sell drugs fo’ that animal Johnny Boy.” Tears streamed down Mrs. Becker’s face.

“Mrs. Becker, this cain’t be true, Cyril don’t sell drugs. He never showed no interest in it before. He knows how I lost my momma, and he knows I’d never be with him if he was dealing. He know that, why would he do this?” Janet asked, hoping that Cyril’s mother could answer her question.

“Look girl, I know yo’ feelins all hurt ‘bout what Cyril done chose, but I tell you like I tol’ Jason, till he want to come back right, he cain’t come back at all. Cyril lost faith. I don’t know when he did, but Cyril done lost faith, and when people lose faith, the devil can crawl around inside them, and they don’t care. This ain’t ‘bout you, and ain’t bout me, its bout Cyril and what he want. He want this. You can take my word for it, or you can ask him yo’self. I tell you this,’ Mrs. Becker started then stopped to wipe her face, she tucked her hands back under her arms and looked at the sky, then continued, ‘Cyril is lost to us, he wit’ the devil now, I ain’t sayin’ there ain’t no good in my son, but it ain’t the good that make you do wrong. Cyril don’t want to do right. You best be served to leave that boy lone till he figure out that what he doin’ ain’t no earthy good, it just ain’t no earthly good.”

Mrs. Becker did not say anything else. She just stepped back in her house, closed, and locked her door. Janet stepped out of the envelope of the screen door, walked down the stairs, and stood on the sidewalk, trying to digest what Mrs. Becker told her. Mrs. Becker was a tiny woman, Janet was taller than she was, and had to weigh more than this woman did; but she just struck a mighty blow to Janet. As she walked down the stairs onto the sidewalk, all she could see was Mrs. Becker mouth forming the words that made the air leave her lungs, which made all these bells and whistles go off in her head. She saw those thin mauve colored lips form the words to explain her son’s absence; but it all seemed to come out like a jumbled mistake. How could this small woman bear so much grief and still seem to keep going, Janet wanted her secret, she knew that Mrs. Becker was hurt and wrung out. Janet also knew that Mrs. Becker would not let this stop her from living. As a pit began to grow in her stomach, Janet thought how wrung out and tried she was. She was tired of losing people she loved; she was tired of them closing themselves off from her. She was tired of them choosing drugs, work or even people over her. Janet felt enough of that to last her a lifetime, she was plum wrung out from it, as her grandmother would say.

Janet felt that pit in her stomach grow even more. She felt like the world had closed off for her. She did not have anybody. Cyril was her lifeline, and he was gone. He was lost to her; the streets and drugs had him. Janet had to talk to him, she had to see if this was true, and she had to know for herself, if Cyril was really going to betray her and the love they shared. Janet wanted to look him in the eye and have him tell her that he was running drugs for Johnny Boy. Mrs. Becker made a compelling case, but she could be wrong. Janet hoped she was wrong.

As Janet made the walk back to her house she could barely comprehend what was running through her mind. She could not concentrate on a single thing. All she could see was pavement; it seemed like an endless stream of pavement, which lay out ahead of her. That was all she could see and seem to focus on. Janet saw the cracks and discoloration in the cemented ground; she saw how some had lifted from growing tree roots making the pavement rise from the ground and crack and break apart. Janet watched how all the living green things like grass, trees, and bushes seemed to stop right at the noise of the pavement. Even though there were weeds and a few chards or grass coming through, it was temporary, but that pavement was permanent, it was not going anywhere. The pavement was there forever; it had been there as long as she could remember. Cement never died, it never had other things to do; it was just always there for her, no matter what the situation or circumstance. Concrete was the one real constant in Janet’s life. The sun did not always come out, and sky was not always blue. There were nights that she could remember not seeing a moon; but the concrete that was there, it was for lack of a better term concrete.

As Janet walked the last block to her house, she began feel a chill run across her face and up her back. Janet felt the shiver come from deep inside her. The feeling was bone chilling. That bone chilling feeling was running through Janet’s entire body; her feet, her hands, her toes, and fingers. Janet could not explain the feeling except to know that she was cold and wished she had a jacket on in ninety-degree weather. Not only was it ninety-degrees outside, the air was very thick with humidity; but she was cold, and began to rub her arms. She watched children playing, running, and chasing each other. Janet watched a group of women standing around fanning themselves and talking in a tight huddle. These women were wearing tea shirts and shorts; some of these women were barefoot. They all had their hair in ponytails. Janet thought just looking at them fanning themselves, and drinking cold drinks should make her feel warm, but it did nothing. All she had to do was make it home and then she could warm up. This heat should have been sweltering, but not for her. Janet felt her hands, and they were cold, they were like ice. She could not understand why on such a hot day was she so cold.

The closer she got to home the more she was convinced that she was coming down with a cold or the flu; that had to be the only explanation she could come up with. As she crossed the in the middle of her block Janet watched the children who lived next door sitting on her porch. She watched them as they talked with Cyril. Janet watched Cyril as he sat there like an out of place child, laughing and talking with children. As she saw his broad smile, and heard his deep soothing voice as he continued talking with the children, Janet began to think, that maybe Mrs. Becker made a huge mistake. This man was too kind with these children, drug dealers and drug runners did not make it a habit of being friendly with children, or anyone for that matter. There had to be a reasonable explanation for what she heard, because it did not go along with what she was seeing. Janet continued the walk to her house, she heard the children call to her. Janet smiled and waved to them. Janet made her way up her walkway and she stopped at her porch. Cyril stood up and walked to her. His walk was easy and loose, his smile was sweet and broad, and his chocolate color skin was glistened with thin layer or perspiration. Janet could see sweat on his very close cut head. Cyril took her hand and kissed her on the cheek, and the children oooohhhhhhhed and awwwwwed, and made catcalls as he did this. Then he encircled Janet in his arms and her head feel to his shoulder, and she closed her eyes and held him as well.

When they finally broker their embrace, the children who had been his company keepers had all scattered away. Janet looked at Cyril and she knew could not have this conversation outside in front of everyone. This was much too, important, they had to have privacy.

“You wanna come in?” Janet asked

“Yea, I do.” Cyril said

Janet and Cyril walked up the front porch steps Janet took out her keys and unlocked the door and stepped in Cyril was right behind her. Cyril closed the door behind them, and Janet walked to living room. The room had out dated furniture, the carpet was worn out, and needed to be replaced, but her father never really saw the need. The truth was that nothing changed since her mother died, not a lamp, not even a lampshade. Mr. Williams wanted everything to stay the same. He rarely even sat in the living room, when he was home. Janet did wish that her father would change the carpet and the furniture, but she never pushed him about it.

Janet watched Cyril as he sat at one end of the sofa, and she chose to sit at the other end. She tucked her legs under her, and folded her arms around her like Mrs. Becker had. Janet could not seem to shake this chill she had. She could not warm up, it did not help that she was in the house the central air was on; she knew if she turned it off, Cyril would be hot and she did not want to make him uncomfortable. Janet looked down at her arms and tighten even more around her; she felt like she was giving herself a hug. From under her heavy eyelids, she looked at Cyril, and he had a strange look on his face. Janet could hear the question that was in his head. Why was she sitting so far away?

“It’s hot out there today, isn’t?” Cyril started

“Yea, I know, but, I’m cold, I can’t seem to warm up.” Janet explained

“Cold on a day like this, you must be sick.”

The room went silent again, and they sat there trying not to look at each other. They were trying not to make eye contact, trying to see the accusatory look on the other’s face. Janet knew that she wanted to say something to Cyril, to ask, him a question, but she could not wrap her mind around the question without feeling disloyal. Finally, Cyril looked at Janet and said,

“Talk to me, Janet I know there is something that you want to ask me.”

Janet looked to him and opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, not even a sigh. Her eyes traveled her folded arms and she hugged herself tighter, then she turned away from Cyril.

“Janet, you cain’t even look at me. Ask me the question! I’ll answer, honestly. I will tell you everything.” Cyril said

Janet found her voice, and she spoke, “I don’t think I can Cyril.”

“Why not?”

“Because, you disgust me!” Janet spat as venomously as she could.

“Why, tell me?” Cyril further egged her on

“You disgust me! And you know why! The minute I saw you, I knew everything yo’ Momma tol’ me was true. You been lyin’ to me all this time! You been makin’ a fool of me! You been selling drugs fo’ Johnny Boy Black. It’s all over the neighborhood; or didn’t you think people would tell me. You been doing that nigga’s bidding for I don’t know how long. I’ve been making plans for us moving on with our lives and you been hanging with that fool. He killed my Momma, you know! He took her life with that poison he sells, and now you helping him! ” Janet felt the hot tears slide down her face; they seemed to coming so fast she could barely wipe them away.

“Janet, I came to explain. I have to tell you why. You the only one, I want to tell. You the only one who can understand. I didn’t even try tellin’ my Momma, she wouldn’t hear me no how. You gotta listen to me Jan, please baby. When they killed Scooter I was there, I saw it; they killed him in front of me. Scooter ain’t never did nothing to nobody. They just killed him, dead in front of me, they didn’t see me, they thought they was alone and caught another drug dealing nigga. They didn’t know until they got up on him that he wasn’t the man they was looking for!” Cyril explained, he began to cry as well.

“They who Cyril, who did that the Scooter?” Janet asked

“The cops, who you think. They just killed him like a dog in the streets. They just left him their when they found out that he wasn’t the nigga they was looking fo. They waited there and watched him die, I heard Scooter callin’ fo’ help. Asking for help, begging them to take him to the hospital. He told them bastards he wouldn’t tell nobody what happened, but they didn’t believe him, and they left him. It took a long time for him to die, they sat there as long as they could, then they was called off somewhere else, and they went on like they did this everyday.” Cyril began to sob.

Janet watched him, she was still crying. She slid over to Cyril, her hand was making its way to Cyril leg, but she was hesitant. His left hand covered his eyes as he sobbed. Janet allowed her hand to land on Cyril’s thigh, and she slid in closer to him, and laid her head on his shoulder. Janet felt Cyril grab her and pulled her close to him, as close as he could get her. They sat there in her living room and cried together, for what felt like the longest time to Janet. Finally, Janet said something,

“Cyril, I know when Scooter died, you was hurt. I know you closed me out and yo’ family. You wouldn’t let us help you, and we tried. You kept tellin’ us you was all right. And you knew you wasn’t. What them cops did was wrong, they was wrong Cyril, but selling drugs ain’t the way. You could end up like Scooter. You could end up dead in the streets like him. Is that what you want?”

“Janet, Scooter had everything goin’ fo’ him and them racist cops took it all away. He was goin’ to the air force. Scooter wanted to be a pilot he, that’s all he talked about. Them cops took his life; they didn’t know he was a honors student, they didn’t know he took care of his grandparent’s. They didn’t know that he volunteer at the homeless shelter. They didn’t know nothin’ ‘bout Scooter, but his color. That’s all they knew. They saw a black boy and killed him and covered it up, and called it a gangland slaying. Them rotten bastards stole his life from him. They gonna pay.”

Janet watched Cyril face as it went cold, and so did his eyes, they were empty; she looked at him, and wondered if she could even get through to him. Something in her told her she had to try.

“Cy, baby, I know they was wrong, but dealing drugs ain’t helping Scooter’s memory. It’s taking away from his memory. It’s like he did everything right, all his life, and now you gonna do everything wrong to get them cops. Cyril, that ain’t makin’ nothin’ better fo’ Scooter and his family, or yours. How you gonna sellin’ drugs? How you gonna make a difference sellin’ drugs? You forget, how I lost my Momma, you think I’m gonna be wit’ you if you do this?” Janet said trying to get through to Cyril.

Janet was caressing Cyril’s face, when he took her hand off his face.

“I didn’t come here fo’ yo’ approval Janet. I came here to tell you we cain’t be together no more. It ain’t safe fo’ you, and I knew when you heard you would be nagging me, so I decided, this is my life now! Whether you like or not, I ain’t changin’ for you or nobody else, not no more! It don’t matter, the world only sees another nigga, no matter what you do in life, you belong in the gutter wit the rest of the rats. That’s how the world sees you. You better figure it out quick, ‘cause ain’t nobody gonna let you get too far. You better figure that out now, and stop wastin’ yo’ time dreamin’”

“Cyril, there is always faith. That’s what you told me when I told you ‘bout my mother, and how she died. How I was the one who found her. How alone I felt, and nobody was there for me. You told me that wasn’t true, that God was there for me. I survived on faith, that’s what you told me. You said that most people don’t even know they have faith. They just keep going, but it’s faith that keeps most of use going. You have to believe that what you saw happened for a reason. That there is a plan, but this ain’t it. You sellin’ drugs for that clown ain’t it; it cain’t be.”

“Janet, I told you I didn’t come here for yo’ approval, I came here to tell you. And I did, that’s all I came to do. If you don’t like the news I’m sorry.” Cyril countered

Cyril looked at Janet with cold dead eyes. His voice was so even that Janet wondered if Cyril had any emotion left. It was like all the fight was gone, and this person in front of Janet was all that was left. Janet looked at Cyril and she saw it in his face, this was not her Cyril anymore. He was dead to her. The man who was standing in Janet’s living looked like Cyril and sounded like Cyril, but that was as far as it went. This was not him. Mrs. Becker was right the devil was crawling around in Cyril, he prayed on Cyril’s anger and fear, and like Eve, Cyril took a big bite of that apple. His will was now up to the devil, his will was no longer his own. Janet’s Cyril would never give into something like this. Janet knew her Cyril would fight with everything he had in him; he would never let someone turn him to ice. The only way she could understand it, was the day Scooter died, was the day her Cyril died. The good boy that was growing into a good man was gone. The boy who knew the difference between right and wrong; the young man who took care of his brother and protected his mother and Janet with his life, was gone, he was lost to them. Cyril died that day, and something evil and veil took over him. It crept into his soul, and grabbed everything warm and humane about Cyril and killed him; the same way those cops killed Scooter. They murdered two boys that night, and had no idea they did. They took two lives for the price of one. The boy that was plucked from the ashes was dead; there was nothing left inside him except hatred and bitterness. Cyril was as empty as a shell.

Janet knew there was nothing left to say. He was nothing to her; nor was she anything to him anymore. She did not know this boy who stood in her house. Janet felt fear creep inside her mind and her body. She let a stranger in her home. He had to go; she would not fight him on his decision. There was nothing left to fight about; she would be fighting a stranger. This Cyril was not the one she loved; she did not know this person. She knew nothing about him. Not this Cyril not the one that looked at her with eyes so cold, that she felt like she needed go outside to get away from the chill that found its way into her home. Cyril was gone, and she had to throw this person out of her house and out of her life. Janet got up from the sofa, and walked to the door and opened it. Then she said to this stranger,

“I don’t know you. You don’t belong here. Get out of my house, and never come her again. If you don’t leave, I will call the police. You are nothing to me. You’re pretending to be alive. My Cyril died when Scooter died. You’ve just taken over his body; Cyril’s soul is gone. Your eyes are dead, and so are you. Leave my home, now. Leave!” She screamed

Cyril said nothing to defend himself or his new way of thinking or feeling. He looked at her with the same cold look he had. He walked to the door only stopping long enough to gain another long glance at Janet. Cyril had the look of a man who studying something, as if he was trying burn her face into his memory and he realized this was only chance. Finally, he walked out of the door, and Janet slammed it shut. The first thing Janet could think of doing was turning off the central air, it was freezing in there. The next thing she did was run to the bathroom and vomited, and finally, she went to her room and stayed there the rest of the night, and wept for the man she lost, the man who was killed and taken from her.

Agent Williams wiped her tears away. She knew she was closing in on Cyril Becker and soon he would be behind bars where he belonged. Agent Williams knew that her Cyril would be grateful for her locking this man, this monster behind bars. Cyril Becker was not the same Cyril she knew, he was not the same Cyril she loved. He explained to Janet why he changed, but that did not make a difference to her. He gave up; he lost faith, in her, in himself, in God, and them. Only he could reclaim that for himself it was nothing she could do for him. Janet realized that, but that did not make the pain of losing him lessen. Janet had to mourn the loss of her relationship with Cyril alone; she could not turn to anyone. Janet knew people, but no one knew her like Cyril, no cared about her like Cyril. No one made her feel like he did. He made her feel like anything was possible. That is why she knew that there was a part of him that she remembered; a part of him that still loved and cared for her. Janet had to believe that this was the man that she gave her heart to. That, that Cyril would understand her vendetta that her Cyril was praying for her to save him. Janet held on to that for more that fifteen years. That kept her warm at night; that belief kept her feeling lonely or lonesome. All Agent Williams had to do was wait, and be patient and her time to bring that murdering bastard down would come.

Sheila B. Goram  Contact: SBG917@aol.com
Copyright 2003  Sheila B Goram
Reviews and Comments Requested
Posted 8/27/2003

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