put there herself from her fingernails digging into his back as he filled her with intimate strokes. All of them told a story and as he joined her she reached for him, pulling him between her thighs as she kissed his scars.
“I’m too heavy, ma,” he protested.
“Shhh. Let mama take care of her man,” she whispered as she grabbed a sponge and washed his back. Even though the sponge was light as a feather it felt as if she was holding a fifty-pound brick. It took all of her strength to bathe him, but nevertheless she washed her man’s back. Their love was one unmatched by any other. They were so many things to one another: lovers, friends, adversaries at times… but they loved each other so deeply, so unapologetically, that it was parental in a sense. Liberty may as well have been A’shai’s mother and he her father, because they had made one another. Their love had been birthed… their union blessed… their lives’ paths intertwined.
A’shai kissed her kneecaps as she washed his back. He cried so silently that even he forgot that he was weeping.
“I just want you to be happy, Shai. After this is over I want you to live. You’ve been dying right along with me for too long,” Liberty said as he started to turn towards her, wetting his face to wash away his anguish before finally facing her.
“I can’t believe this is it, ma. I’ve got all the money in the world, and it can’t do shit for me. I’m just sitting back watching you leave me… watching you hurt,” A’shai said in frustration. “You don’t deserve this. GOD chose the wrong one.”
“He chooses everyone babe,” she whispered. “Everyone has to face death one day. That’s what makes life worth living.”
A’shai had not yet come to terms with the inevitable, but Liberty had a way of poetically putting things into perspective. They washed one another silently until the water ran cold, then A’shai carried her into their room.
He laid her in the bed and sat in the cozy, leather La-Z-Boy that was positioned beside it.
“Let’s talk,” Liberty said.
“You should rest, baby girl,” A’shai asserted.
“I don’t want to sleep. I want to keep my eyes open and hear your voice for as long as I possibly can. Tell me the story,” she insisted.
“You know the story, Lib. You lived it with me, ma. Besides that story ain’t always happy,” A’shai replied.
“But it’s ours, Shai. The good, the bad, the ugly… it doesn’t matter because it’s our story, and I want to hear it again. That story is the only legacy I’m leaving behind. Please, babe. You know you’re going to end up giving me my way so you might as well just say yes and start talking,” she shot back with a weak smile.
There weren’t many requests of hers that A’shai wouldn’t oblige. He had spared her of nothing, and he couldn’t remember a time when he had told her no. Spoiled and well-kept whenever she was in A’shai’s presence, Liberty was his rib. He never wanted to hurt her because it would be like hurting himself.
He sighed because he knew that the tale he was about to spin would bring about a lot of emotions… stirring old ghosts. He stood and went to retrieve a box of Kleenex, knowing that Liberty would need it for the tears to come. He was about to unlock an old closet that had been stuffed with memories, mostly bad, but the sporadic occasion of good times that hid inside were so joyful that they outweighed all of the horrendous times that came along with them. He went into his custom wine cellar and looked around at all the bottles of aged wine that were neatly arranged inside. He scoured the shelves until he found exactly what he was looking for and pulled the old bottle down. It wasn’t the most expensive one of the bunch for sure, but at that moment it was exactly what he needed. When he returned he sat down, put the Kleenex on the nightstand, and gave her a knowing look.
“I’m not gon’ cry,” she defended with a laugh, trying to be tough.
“You always cry,” he replied as he kissed her forehead and took a seat. He took a sip from the drink he had prepared for himself and then said, “You ready?”
She nodded, the muscles in her neck so weak that her head bobbled back and forth loosely. She was trying to muster as much strength as she could because she didn’t want A’shai to worry, but everything was so hard. It took everything in her to get into a comfortable position on the stack of pillows behind her.
“Relax, Liberty. You don’t have to do anything but listen,” A’shai said as he helped her adjust.
He took a sip of his drink and began to tell her the last bedtime story that she would ever hear.
TWO
LIBERTY’S DESPERATE EYES PEEKED OUT FROM THE back of the tarp-covered Jeep as she watched her old village burn to the ground. Her entire body shuddered as fear took over her. Gunshots rang out as the rebels whooped and hollered in victory, their testosterone-driven adrenaline justifying their immoral actions.
Liberty didn’t understand why she was being taken. Her home had been ransacked. Most of the women and children had been raped, tortured, then eventually killed, including her mother and siblings. Her young eyes had been a witness to the mass murders of her father and the other men in the village. Tyranny had erupted without warning and now as she was whisked away to a destination unknown she cried uncontrollably. She felt as if she had been spared, but what she didn’t know was that what the rebels intended for her would be worse than death itself. The men that surrounded her held automatic machine guns. Some of them could hardly be called men, their young faces revealed no more years than Liberty’s. She could not understand how someone her age could be so threatening… their faces showed no remorse, no signs of childhood antics… only malicious, cold-hearted eyes that stared back at her.
Liberty cried a river as she tried to stifle herself, her chest heaving up and down violently as tears cascaded down her face. The five-hour drive back to Sierra Leone was excruciating for Liberty. Too afraid to close her eyes she cowered in the bottom of the vehicle, her nerves attentive as the men bragged of their conquests around her. Other captives huddled together but none dared to speak, silenced by fear. The blood of her loved ones dried on her ashy skin, torturing her as she watched it crust on her arms and legs. When the jeep finally stopped moving Liberty was forced out, dragged through the muddy village by her hair.
Terror gripped her stomach as she was forced into a thatched hut house. She fell to her knees, scraping them on the cement floor, and as the door slammed closed the entire hut went dark.
A’shai peeked through the hole in the side of the hut trying to peer inside at the beauty he had captured. Something inside of him was glad that he didn’t have to kill her. Her light skin seemed to glow in the dark as his heart beat out of his chest. He didn’t know why Ezekiel had saved the girl, but he knew one thing for sure: he wanted to know her. He had never seen a girl so pretty.
A hand clasped around the back of his neck causing A’shai to drop the weapon he was carrying.
“You’ve got to learn the art of the kill son,” Ezekiel said as he removed the gun from A’shai’s hand and guided his son away from his spying spot. “You like her?”
A’shai shook his head and replied, “I was just looking. What are you keeping her for?”
Ezekiel entered his home with A’shai following curiously behind him.
“We need someone to cook and clean around here,” Ezekiel replied. “Need a woman here. Eventually she will make a fine wife.”
A’shai was too young to see the lustful look in his father’s eyes. Ezekiel needed a woman around all right, but Liberty was still a child. A ten-year-old little girl to be exact and Ezekiel’s cruel intentions for her were purely pedophilic.
Ezekiel approached Liberty, causing her to back into the corner and cover her eyes. He stopped abruptly, realizing that she was afraid. Knowing that she wouldn’t be easy to manipulate if she feared him, he gave her space. He walked over to A’shai and whispered in his ear. “Make her comfortable. Tell her she doesn’t have to be afraid here.”
Young A’shai’s eyes sparkled at the chance to interact with the girl. He nodded his head and watched his father leave.
A’shai ran to the rickety wooden table and grabbed a piece of bread before approaching the girl.
