The Truth Leads Me To Dark Places

CW: Explicit language and sexual content.

How can a man have both eyes wide open and can’t see a damn thing? I’m still trying to figure that out. My world was fantastic up to that point. I got a fine black wife that turns heads in any room she enters. Every time I look at her face when I wake up in the morning, I’m remind how I leveled up when I met her. She was way out of my league, but I still got her. Thank god I listened to my mother and went to school for engineering, because there was no way I was pulling this woman with a regular nine to five. And the greatest thing she ever gave me, was a son. A handsome boy who just took his first steps. I’m an intelligent black man with a great job, a beautiful family, a nice home, and plenty of money in the bank. My life couldn’t be better. Until my world got turned upside down.

I got up that morning. Just a regular morning like any other. I kissed my wife and son goodbye, took the lunch she made for me, and headed off to work. I got to the power plant at eight am to start my shift. My best friend, Harold Hawthorne, was there to greet me as usual.

“What’s up Mike?” Harold said in a smooth baritone voice giving me some dap. Harold swears up and down that people think he looks like Idris Elba, but I don’t see it. Harold is one of those kind of people who energizes any room he enters. You know the type. The person who never meets a stranger.

“Man, my plate is full today bro,” I replied shaking my head as I took a sip of coffee.

“Welcome to the strippin’ game partner. You didn’t think they were gonna pay you big money without having to shake that ass for the, man,” Harold joked, making his voice sound like Bernie Mac from the movie, the Player’s Club.

I laughed as I shook my head and said, “facts.”

Harold stepped closer as looked around and asked, “you not going to be too busy to come to the spot after work?”

I looked at my watch, thought about it for a moment and said, “nah, I’ll be there.”

“Cool, first round on me,” Harold said with a big smile.

The next eight hours flew by. I got off and headed to Andretti’s bar and grill. It’s the spot where all the fellas go after work to have a drink and shoot the shit. When I got there only Thomas Young from quality control was at the bar sipping on some Hennessey. Thomas was the polar opposite from Harold. He was stocky and a little rough looking. He had that street edge to him. And he was laid back. Never talking too much, just very observant. Thomas was my boy too, but I met him at work five years ago. I’ve known Harold since high school. Anyway I strolled over.

“What’s up big Tom?” I said giving him some dap and then taking a seat next to him at the bar.

Thomas glared at me and said, “what’s up Mike.”

After getting the bartender’s attention, I ordered a Long Island ice tea. As I sipped on my drink, my eyes darted back and forth at the front door and my watch. One by one the fellas from the plant filed into the bar, but no Harold. I turned back to Thomas and said, “Harold is late as usual. That boy ain’t never on time.”

Thomas shook his head, but he had a look on his face like he knew more than he was saying.

“What?” I asked as I took another sip of my drink.

Thomas looked away and said, “my name is Bennett, and I ain’t in it.”

I smiled as I elbowed him in the side, “you know something don’t you. What, he’s hooking up with somebody from work or something?”

Thomas had a strange smirk as his eyes, which had avoided looking at me directly, finally stared at me intently while asking the question, “you never asked yourself, why Harold is always late?”

I shrugged my shoulders and replied, “never thought about it I guess.”

Thomas looked away again as he pushed out a breath. Tapping his fingers on the bar, he seemed to be deep in thought. Then as he snapped out of it, he said, “come with me. I need to show you something.”

I followed Thomas to his truck. We climbed inside and we took off. As we cruised down the streets, I started to recognize the area. We were heading to Harold’s house. But we stopped short of pulling up to his door. Thomas parked behind another car half way down the block. I turned to Thomas and asked, “what are we doing here?”

Thomas killed the engine and slid down in his seat while saying, “just be quiet and watch.”

About five minutes after that, Harold’s door opened. And my jaw hit the floor as I watched my wife, Naomi, came walking out, straightening up her clothes. Harold came out next. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a sensual embrace. Then they kissed as he squeezed her butt.

My blood was boiling as I asked, “how long has this been going on?”

Thomas swallowed hard before responding, “awhile bro.”

I immediately started thinking about my son. A horrible though crossed my mind. And before I knew it, the question came out of my mouth as I started to clinch my fist, “is Robert my son?”

Thomas paused for a second before replying, “I don’t know.”

My eyes were burning a hole through Thomas’s windshield as I watched my wife get into the Mercedes-Benz that I bought. Then she gave Harold this cute wave and blew him a kiss. It took a minute before I could catch my breath. Then I finally managed to say, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Thomas, still cool as a cucumber replied, “where I’m from, you never tell a man anything about his woman. Things like this you need to see for yourself.”

I gripped his door handle so hard, I’m surprise I didn’t tear it off as I shouted, “I’ll kill them!”

Thomas stuck his big arm out and stopped me from getting out the car. “Whoa man. You don’t wanna do that bro. Neither one of them are worth you throwing away your life. You need to think long and hard about your next move. Remember, they don’t know that you know.”

Time had slowed to a snail’s pace as I marinated on Thomas’s words. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I bit down on my lower lip hard and eventually nodded my head in agreement.

When I got home that night, I found Naomi waiting for me with that silly ass smile and a warm dinner. That smile that was so beautiful to me, now I had nothing but contempt for. As I looked at her lips, all I could picture is those lips wrapped around Harold’s dick. The thought of it made me want to pick up this expensive marble statute and bash her in the face with it. But I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and by the time I released it, I had regained my composure.

“Everything okay baby,” Naomi asked in a sweet voice as she gave me a hug.

“Everything is great,” I lied, forcing a smile. My son walked over with a huge grin and hugged my legs. I rubbed the top of his head, and when I looked at him, all I could do is wonder.

That night I laid in the bed staring at the ceiling. Unable to get a wink of sleep. Taking Thomas’s advice. Plotting my next move. First things first, I got to find out if Robert is my son. So I ordered a DNA kit. I waited until everyone was dead asleep one night. Must have been midnight. I slipped out of bed and creeped into my son’s room. Looking at him sleeping peacefully, I wondered…. I studied his face longer and closer than I ever had in the past, searching for any similarities between me and him. Then I summed up the strength and I used the little Q-tip that came with the kit and I swabbed his gums. And I sent it off the next morning with mines.

While I waited for the results, I faked my way through that next week. I kept my routine. I kissed my wife and son in the morning, went to work, and ate the lunch she prepared for me every afternoon. I spoke to Harold, laughed at his jokes, and let him lie through his teeth to me without batting an eye. But most importantly, I studied their movements, the when, the where, and how long. I wanted to know everything Harold and Naomi where doing behind my back. And I had to hand it to them, they were good. Naomi would tell me she was going grocery shopping. She would call Harold and Cash App him the grocery money. He would go buy the groceries so that when she got there, the time she would’ve spent shopping, she spent riding this bastard’s dick.

Anyway, a week went by and that fateful day finally came. The day I was dreading and anticipating at the same time. I got the email giving me the results of the DNA test. And as I saw the results, I could imagine Maury Povich, Steve Wilkos, or Jerry Springer yelling the words as I sit facing the audience looking like a complete simp, “You are not the father!”

I was devastated. As the tears began to trickle down my face, I went to the only place I had left for comfort. My momma’s house. I don’t know how I drove across town. Guess I was on auto pilot, because before I knew it, I was pulling up to her front door. As I wiped away the tears and blew my nose, I banged on her door like I was the police.

“Mike!” momma said cracking open the front door. Momma still had on her scrubs from work. She was a nurse at a small clinic down the street, where she worked at since I was little boy and my dad left us. With her hands on her hips she asked, “what’s wrong with you, boy?”

I slithered in the door and plopped down on her nice leather couch. Shaking my head, I revealed, “it’s Naomi. She’s been cheating on me with my best friend, Harold.”

“Oh my,” she said taking a seat next to me and wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Are you sure?”

“Yes. And that’s not the worst part. I found out that Robert is not my son.”

Momma ran her hands through her grey hair and asked, “what are you going to do?”

“Oh, we done,” I snapped in anger.

“And what about Robert?” she asked.

“What about him? He’s not my son.”

My momma grabbed my chin, locked eyes with me, and said, “Mike, you might not be his biological father, but you’re still his father. So he is your responsibility.”

Confused, I said, “you think I should take care, and continue to raise a kid that’s not mines.”

“Absolutely,” momma replied without hesitation.

Stunned, I sat up on the edge of the couch, tilting my head to the side as I said, “did you hear when I said she cheated on me with my best friend?”

Momma shook her head as she said, “so what. You’ve been a father to him all this time. You can’t just pick up and leave when things get tough. That’s the same mess your father pulled. I won’t have it. You will be taking care of Robert!”

Scratching the back of my head I said, “the same mess that my father pulled…. Are you telling me that you wanted my father to take care of a kid that wasn’t his? That my father is not my biological father?”

My momma waved her finger and said, “We not getting into that! Your focus is all wrong. You need to be worrying about taking care of that little boy. A real man takes care of his woman and her kids.”

“A real woman doesn’t fuck another man behind his back and then lie about who the father is!” I shouted springing to my feet in anger.

My mother stood up too, and slapped the taste out of my mouth. Holding my jaw I don’t know what shocked me more. That she slapped me, or that she pulled the same thing as Naomi. With a look of discuss on my face, I turned and left without saying another word. This conversation was only proof that I had to do what I had to do.

Another week went by and I put my plan in motion. I started that day just like any other. I kept my routine the same. Got to the plant and shared a cup of coffee with Harold as he ran his mouth about the football game that was on last night. All of a sudden, security walked up with the plant manager and the police. As they surrounded Harold, one of the police officers said, “Harold Hawthorne.”

Harold’s head was on a swivel. Confused he answered, “yeah that’s me. What’s going on?”

The officer held up a Ziploc bag full of cocaine and said, “we found this in your locker.”

Harold’s eyes almost jumped out of his head as he shouted, “That’s not mines! I’ve never seen that before!”

The police put Harold’s hands behind his back, slapped on the cuffs, and started reading him his rights, “you are under arrest for possession of narcotics. You have the right to remain silent……”

The plant was abuzz with the arrest. I think they took off Harold’s name plate by the end of business. I followed Thomas and the rest of the fellows to Andretti’s again to have a drink and talk about what happened. Then I got a call from Naomi.

“Baby! I’ve been arrested. You got to come down to the police station and bail me out as soon as possible!” she said frantically.

“Oh my god! I’ll be right there, baby,” I said hanging up.

I drove down to the police station to find Naomi sitting next to a detective’s desk, handcuffed to a steel chair. Her eyes greeted me before her mouth did. She let out a long sigh and said, “thank god you’re here.”

“What happened?” I asked walking up quickly, before a detective stood up and cut off my path to Naomi.

“We got a tip that your wife and a mister Harold Hawthorne were dealing drugs. We did a felony stop and caught your wife with cocaine in her trunk,” the detective said holding up a Ziploc bag full of the white powder.

I looked over the detective’s shoulder and saw Harold a couple of desks behind. Handcuffed to a chair just like Naomi.

“This has got to be some kind of mistake. I told them I never seen that bag before!” Naomi interjected as she jerked on the handcuffs that had her confined to her seat.

“Do you mind if I talk to my wife for a minute?” I asked respectfully.

The detective looked at Naomi and back at me before replying, “Make it quick. I still have to process her.”

I walked over and knelt in front of Naomi. Placing a hand on her knee, I looked deep into her light brown eyes. Eyes that were full of fear as she said, “you got to believe me. I don’t know anything about these drugs.”

I smiled as I leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, “I believe you. Because I put them there, right before I made an anonymous call to the police.”

She looked at me with disbelief and the only word she could force out her mouth was, “why?”

I reached into my pocket, pulled out a copy of the DNA test results, and handed it to her. “That’s why.”

Naomi looked at the paper and then back at me. She was speechless. She had a look on her face like she was trying to formulate a lie in her mind to tell me. But by the time she opened her mouth to tell it, I said, “I know everything. Everything…... I’ve been following you and Harold around for a couple of weeks.”

Naomi reached out to touch my hand as she said, “please, let me explain.”

I slowly pushed her hand away and whispered, “I’ll make sure to let your job know you won’t be coming in because your locked up on drug charges. Oh, and my lawyer is filing the divorce papers as we speak. Good luck to you and Harold. Maybe they’ll let you write each other while you’re in prison. And when you get out, you can be on, Love After Lockup.”

I stood up with a smile and shouted to the detective, “I’m done.”

THE END