Killafornia

XXI.

Killafornia

Vanity

Sitting on CJ's bed, I was listening intently for what might be going on outside his room but there was not a single sound. No footsteps, no phone calls and not even as much as sobbing. It was literally so quiet that my own thoughts felt like they were too loud. 

The eerie thing is I still have the chilled sensation of her cold skin on my fingertips from when I checked for her pulse. My other eight fingers were warm but those two that I used were as if they had no blood flowing to them anymore. 

Five minutes was slowly turning to fifty and I was growing worried of him. I got up from the bed and cracked open the door to find him no longer in the hallway. Continuing, to the bathroom, everything was still the same. From the phone resting on the counter to the steady slow droplets of water coming from the faucet. The water rippled when the drop broke it's surface and a faint noise could be heard but there was no CJ. Moving on from the bathroom, the front door was open and there was CJ on the step with his phone at his ear- well now he removed it from his ear and let out a deep exhale. 

"CJ?" I said as I approached, taking a seat next to him. He looked over at me and I didn't see eyes that were red and puffy. So at least he was holding it together but I know he must want to just break down, I know how much she meant to him and there was no way he could hold his front for too long. "Please say something."

"What do you want me to say?" He said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I called nine one one so they're on their way to come investigate and all that other crap." His eyes dropping from mine and now looking down the broken pathway that dived the front lawn. At the end was the nearly completely rusted gate that was left open. "Don't even know where Imani is." His voice spoke so calmly.

"At least they're on their way. You didn't touch anything in the bathroom did you?" He shook his head. "Good, I always heard not to mess with the scene and as far as Imani... I thought she was told to stay home?" 

'She's not supposed to be out of the house at all. I left early to go to court and then you left to go to therapy but I told her to stay home for the obvious reason of being there to watch Nana so where the fuck did she go? If cops wanted her for questioning, they'd have called first like always." 

"We'll find her and figure out what she's been up to." I said but he gave no response. "You're not gonna up and leave to San Diego again, right?" 

"No. I'm not leavin' to San Diego- I couldn't even if I wanted to. The thing that bothers me the most is Nana and I were supposed to fix her will tonight after dinner."

"Why? I thought you already did that with her?" I was relieved that he wasn't going to leave. Now that I know when life gets too stressful, his choice of unwinding involves weed, cocaine and booze. All three of which are not a good combination for him and I worry he'll start doing that more often. 

"We did but now Imani is in my custody. I wanted that changed because I didn't want to be legally responsible for her but now we can't change that because she's dead now. I also wanted to change who the house went to." He rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head low, letting his hands run over his head. "I told her so many times I didn't want anything of hers left to me. Told that woman so many fuckin' times but she never listened." 

"She left you everything?" 

"Yeah. She already did so much for me, I didn't want anything more from her-" He stopped when the ambulance pulled up to the curb. "-and here we go." He said under his breath as he stood up from the step. "She's inside in the bathroom. You go down the hall and it's the first door on the right." He said to the first two men who came up the way. I continued to sit here and watch CJ lead them inside; a few more people followed in afterward while I sat here and really tried to wrap my head around the fact that she's actually gone... no more walking into the house to see her in her chair knitting a blanket as she watched TV. No more hearing her shuffle slowly across the kitchen in her slippers or at the sink washing dishes as she hummed some her favorite songs from her childhood.