Odyssey

Part Three

Sovereign James walked toward his apartment from the temporary courtroom that late afternoon. On his way he wondered what would have happened if he and Toni had run away together. Their love was overwhelming and insufficient, unexpected and doomed. Their love was like his life had been. It wasn’t a new thing but a repetition of the old in a new configuration. If he had run with her, sooner or later she would have drifted off to the life she needed. That was the pattern he’d created for himself.

The big bronze doorman, Jolly, was behind the reception desk at Sovereign’s building.

“Mr. James,” the young man hailed. “Haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Been on trial for attempted murder. The feds were after me too but that stopped.”

“What about the trial?” Jolly asked, his seemingly unsinkable mirth receding behind squinty eyes.

“Judge said she’ll give the verdict on Monday.”

“I remember now,” the young man said. “Axel said that they called him and Geoffrey to testify. I thought they meant in some kind of lawsuit.”

“No.”

“You think they’re gonna find you guilty?”

“Maybe. Probably not completely... but who knows?”

Sovereign walked through the front door of his apartment, closing it behind him. He shut his eyes and stood there — waiting for inspiration. But the feeling of blindness had gone. He no longer knew how to move in darkness.

His sun-flooded living room with its red chair and white sofa held the silent echo of Toni’s scream and the straining of the life-and-death struggle with Lemuel Fister Johnson. His whole life, it seemed, had been in preparation for that fight, when he now knew he should have been training for some other goal.

He sat in the red chair for a while and then moved to the sofa. Three hours later he went to the bedroom and lay down on the big bed. The room had been cleaned multiple times by Galeta and so the scent of Toni’s floral perfume was absent. He closed his eyes but sleep didn’t come. He imagined the dizzying swirl blindness had foisted upon him, but that too had abandoned him.

On Saturday he exercised, fried pork chops, and read Treasure Island, a favorite novel of boyhood.

On Sunday he exercised, fried pork chops, and read Treasure Island again.

No one called that weekend. There was no one to call.

Late Sunday night Sovereign called Seth Offeran’s office phone.

“This is Dr. Offeran’s line,” Seth Offeran’s voice said. “Please leave a message and a number and I will get back to you.”

“It’s Sovereign James, Doctor. I’d like to see you early next week if I’m not in prison. Can you call back and tell me if that’s possible? I can make it any time except Monday at nine. That’s when the judge renders her verdict.”

There were no dreams, because Sovereign did not sleep that weekend. He lay in bed with his eyes shut but was aware of the light, and the possibility of sight, just beyond those closed lids.

Toni hadn’t called but he wasn’t surprised by this. He hadn’t called her. He didn’t know what to say. His birthday was next week. He’d be fifty — exactly half a century old. There was a spider crawling up the wall as Monday’s sun rose to illuminate the opposite end of his bedroom. He was still in shadow but the light was there before him.

The phone rang and the voice-mail message engaged but there was only silence. A few minutes later the phone rang again.

“Hello?”

“Sovereign?”

“Lena.”

“Judge Lowell’s secretary called me this morning...”

“What time is it?”

“A little after seven.”

“She had him call you this early?”

“She said that there’s no case without Lemuel’s corroboration. Even if he’s lying there’s no basis for a conviction. So she’s vacating the case.”

Sovereign looked down and saw that his digital message machine had logged one hundred and forty-seven voice mails.

“Sovereign?”

“Yeah, Lena?”

“Did you hear me?”

“Do I have to go down to Lafayette today?”

“You’re free, Sovy. The case is dismissed.”

“I see.” He was wondering about all those messages.

“Are you all right, Sovereign? Is there somebody I should call?”

“I’m the only one,” he said. “Thank you, Lena. Just send me a bill and I’ll put the check in the mail.”

“... most of the calls,” Sovereign was saying, “came from businesses and salespeople. Most of those were trying to sell me insurance or wanting me to take out loans. There were four wrong numbers and one call from Lemuel Johnson—”

“What did he have to say?” Seth Offeran asked.

“He started off trying to apologize for attacking me twice. He said he shouldn’t have done it but the beating I gave him more than made it equal. It was almost as if he was saying that he allowed me to beat him like that. And then he started talking about Toni, about how much he loved her and how they were supposed to be together.”

“When did he leave this message?”

“The first day he was conscious.”

“How did he get the number?”

“Toni probably used his phone to call me or something. Maybe he got it from her mother.”

“That call sounds crazy.”

“Drugged. He sounded high on the line. Probably some kind of opiate for the pain.”

“Have you heard from Toni?”

“No.”

“Have you called her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Valentina Holman left me a message about three weeks past.”

“And?”

“She and Verso broke up again. They called off the wedding.”

“Why?”

“She told him about me.”

“Why did she say she did that?”

“It was just a short message and I didn’t call her yet. I probably won’t call. But as far as her telling him is concerned — I figure it’s better that they get it out before the wedding. I mean, if he’s gonna be jealous she should know it before they have kids.”

“I thought you said that she didn’t want children?”

“With me. That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t have Verso’s kids.”

“Why did you call me, Sovereign?”

“Things happen, Doctor. They happen and we respond but the world keeps on going anyway. Not matter what happens, that’s not the end.”

“What happened with you?”

“The judge found me innocent and Lemuel Johnson won our contest. I went home and there was nothing there. I don’t have a job anymore and with that went my only real purpose — the secret revolution that I no longer believe in. I’ll be fifty years old next week, and probably the most fertile time of my life was when I was a blind man.”

“You lament the return of your vision?”

“My mother died last week.”

“What?”

“My sister called. She said that Mama lost strength after my visit. She said that Mama was just holding on to see me one last time.”

“But didn’t you just see your brother a few days ago? Why didn’t he tell you about your mother?”

“He must’ve been in the country for the funeral,” Sovereign said. “Probably didn’t tell me because I was still on trial. Maybe he thought I’d run out of state to go to the funeral.”

“How do you feel about your mother’s passing?”

“I miss Toni,” Sovereign said, as if this answered the doctor’s question. “Not the Toni who needs to run off and go with her old boyfriend but the girl who for a little while thought that she was in love with the man I was.”

“The man you were? What does that mean?”

“I was on a road,” he said. “I was blind of eye but still moving forward. In here, with you, I brought up the questions that mark my life. I was going somewhere but now I’ve hit a dead end.”

“Your life isn’t over.”

“Isn’t our time up, Doctor?”

“We can stay a few more minutes.”

“No. I need to go.”

“Can we talk about medication first?”

“Next time.”

“Shall we meet this time tomorrow?”

“I’ll call you to set up the next appointment.”

“Sovereign.”

“Yes, Seth?”

“I think we should keep up this dialogue.”

“I’ll call you.”

Sovereign had accrued more than a million dollars in his years of employment. Interest and sensible investment had augmented his savings. And so he was in no hurry to go out looking for a new job.

He sat in his Village apartment waiting for the dark mood to break. But as the days went by he failed to locate hope.

Three weeks and two days after the judge had found him not guilty the phone rang. He picked up the receiver but didn’t say anything.

“Sovereign,” Toni Loam said.

“Hey.”

“Can I come ovah?”

“All right.”

Geoffrey LaMott called from downstairs announcing that Toni was asking for him.

“You want me to send her away, Mr. J?”

“No, Geoff, send her on up.”

He went to the door of his apartment, threw it open, and waited.

He stood in the crack of the door, half in and half out of the hall. A young woman in jeans and a pink T-shirt walked by with a small Tibetan spaniel on a rhinestone leash. The long-haired little blond dog pranced up to Sovereign and curtsied in dog fashion. Sovereign knelt down, holding out his left hand.

At first the spaniel backed away but then it moved forward and licked his knuckle.

“She likes you,” the woman said.

Looking up, Sovereign saw that his new neighbor had limp brown hair and a pretty pale face.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“Hi, Sovereign,” Toni said. She had walked up while he was making friends with the dog and its mistress.

“Come on, Astrid,” the new neighbor said to her little dog. They went on down the hall, leaving Toni and Sovereign.

“Come on in.”

She followed him through the L-shaped inner hall to the deep living room. He waved at the red chair and she sat down.

“Drink?”

“No, thanks.”

“How’ve you been?”

“Could you sit down?” she asked.

Sovereign lowered himself onto the white sofa and clasped his hands.

“How have you been, Toni?”

“Okay.”

“It’s been a while.”

“I’m back together with Lem.”

Sovereign’s nod was almost imperceptible.

“You not surprised?” she asked.

“He was making his play on the witness stand. Are they going to try him for the attacks on me?”

“Only if you make a complaint.”

“Is that why you’re here, to keep me from putting him in the crosshairs?”

“I’m sorry, Sovereign, but you know I been with him what seems like my whole life. And he’s really tryin’ this time.”

They sat in silence for a while then.

“I’m not after your man, Toni. If the DA comes to me I might testify, but they haven’t called yet.”

“Lem’s sorry for what he did.”

“Is that all?”

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“Um.”

“I still like you,” she said almost dispassionately. “And I owe you at least that much.”

“What would Lemuel think about that?”

“He the one send me here to talk to you. I don’t have to tell him nuthin’.”

They sat for at least five minutes before rising at the same moment.

“I’m pregnant,” Toni said, fifteen seconds after Sovereign had come.

“That’s kinda quick, isn’t it?”

“I’m not jokin’,” she said. “All that foolin’ around we did when we thought we was goin’ to prison.”

“Does Lemuel know?”

“I’m’a tell him it’s his.”

Sovereign thought about his grandmother then, the woman he never met. Maybe Eagle wanted a child and she realized he’d never make one. Maybe this was the only way Toni could give Sovereign her love.

Sovereign James sat in the open window of his apartment after Toni left. He was waiting to see her walking down the street toward the turn to her train. The window was open wide and a strong breeze was blowing over him. He sat there teetering on the ninth floor, thinking about his mother and father, brother and sister, about all the years he’d spent working in the shadows of race and capitalism. He wanted to call Drum-Eddie but he was ashamed at his weakness. He wanted Toni to stay with him but he knew that Lemuel would always have first claim on her heart.

Maybe, he thought, if he had killed Lemuel... But no. Everything that happened was supposed to be: his grandfather Eagle shooting himself, Drum-Eddie robbing that bank.

Sovereign noticed that a few people in the building across the way and one or two people in the street were looking up at him. He was leaning forward, pretty far out, but his left foot was curled around the leg of the desk behind him.

A woman pointed at him.

The bell from the front desk sounded.

Toni appeared on the street below, walking slowly, gripping her cranberry-colored bag.

Sovereign leaned out a bit farther.

A woman from below screamed something.

Half an hour before, Toni had experienced a powerful orgasm riding on top of Sovereign. He’d held her hands down at her sides and bucked underneath.

“Do it, daddy,” she’d uttered. “Do it hard.”

And now there she was, pregnant with his child, walking down the street. They’d never see each other again. He’d never hold her or sit next to her while she laughed at some stupid comedy.

His foot let go of the heavy oaken leg.

“Don’t do it!” a man from across the way cried.

Toni turned and looked up.

Without a thought Sovereign let his weight fall. He would sail to the ground, gaining speed as he plummeted. He would hit with such impact that most of his bones would shatter. There’d be no pain, no regret, no convalescence. Death would be like his life had been, only without the distractions.

Screams attended the sway. The bell from downstairs was ringing. And then suddenly, in the middle of the fall, Sovereign’s body stopped its downward trend. Looking up and to the left he saw that his hand — of its own volition, it seemed — had darted out and grabbed the windowsill. His muscles in his forearm were taut like metal cables, and his fingers crunched the slender slats of wood.

His hand had decided to stop him. He wanted to die, to fall, to end it here and now. But this was not to be.

Toni was watching; maybe she called out.

His hand had saved him as if it were a friend or relative or maybe even a disdaining cop.

Hanging half the way out of his apartment window, Sovereign grinned.

He pulled himself back in and went to the living room, where he sat in the red chair, realizing that his old life had ended in that window and the new life had not yet begun.