Chapter 12


    "What on earth is all that noise, child?" Lyte''s mother shouted over the phone.


    Rolling her eyes at both her mom and the passing trucks beside her as she stood at the phone booth


    on the sidewalk, Lyte said aloud, "It''s traffic, mama! I had to use the phone outside this time!"


    Lyte had to keep a close eye on not only her watch but also the passing traffic that would at times


    ssh water and mud up and onto the sidewalk where she was standing. She made sure to keep both


    her multi-colored apron and shoes as far away from the curb as possible.


    "How is dad doing?" Lyte nced all around at the various people walking past her up and down


    along the street and sidewalks.


    Sighing, her mother said, "He actually started back to work justst week."


    "Really," Lyte perked right up. "I bet you''re happy about that; not having to work anymore."


    "Oh no, I''m still gonna keep my job." Her mother quickly spoke up. "We need as much money as we


    can get our hands on. I''m just d that your father is able to work again. Hopefully his time off won''t


    affect his pension."


    "I''ll be sending another check next Friday." Lyte said. "I got shorted this week because...because


    the restaurant had a leak, and we had to cut our hours."


    "Don''t worry too much about your money. You need it more for your recovery."


    Lyte bit down on her bottom lip right then, just as she did almost every time they talked over the


    phone.


    "Isaac''s father called here the other day." Wilma bitterly muttered.


    "Oh yeah," Lyte asked with a hint of wonder in her tone. "How is he doing?"


    "He wanted to see the baby. I told him that that wouldn''t be a good idea."


    Exhaling, Lyte replied, "Mama, let Mr. Mercer see Isaiah. He hasn''t done anything wrong to


    anyone. That''s his grandson, too."


    Wilma breathed in and out before moaning, "I guess so. But do you think it''s safe to let him be alone


    with Isaiah?"


    Hopelessly grinning, Lyte said, "Mama, that man wouldn''t hurt a fly. Believe me, I should know.


    Listen, I have to get going. Let me talk to Isaiah real quick, please."


    Lyte waited until she could hear the boy yfully screaming for his ''mommy.'' All the young woman


    could do was hold her breath and try not to burst out into tears.


    "Hi, mommy," Isaiah blurted out.


    "Hi...hi, baby." She braced herself. "Have you been a good boy?"


    "Yeah," he shouted. "I go see Harem Grobtotters'' with papaw!"


    "You saw The Harlem Globetrotters?" Sheughed. "Did you like them?"


    "Yes! They y basketball!"


    Unable to contain her joy, Lyte said, "I know they do, baby."


    "Okay, I got go now!"


    "Okay, honey. I love you."


    "Love you!"


    Lyte couldn''t contain herself any longer. Her face immediately exploded into tears right there on the


    sidewalk in front of everyone to see.


    "I swear that child has such a loud voice." Wilma came back to the phone. "He''s gonna grow up to be a


    singer, I can guarantee that."


    Wiping her face, Lyte cleared her throat. "Is...is he still having nightmares about dogs?"


    "Off and on," Wilma''s voice faltered. "I let him sleep with me and your dad sometimes."


    "I wish so much I could be there with him." Lyte whimpered.


    "He''ll be just fine, girl. You just take care of your health. That''s all that matters right now."


    C0ntent ? 2024 (N/?)velDrama.Org.


    "Please insert another quarter for five more minutes." The recording over the phone all of the sudden


    interrupted.


    "Mama, I''m almost out of time."


    "Go on back to work, Lynn, and we''ll talk tomorrow."


    "Okay, I love you, mama. And tell daddy I love him, too."


    "We love you too, baby girl."


    Lyte couldn''t hang up the phone quick enough. After so long, the irate noise of the traffic became


    all but soundless. All she had to do was hear her child and everyone and everything around her


    became like fog. The youngdy continued to wipe her face before she eventually got onto her bike


    and pedaled down the street that led to the nearby beach.


    Lyte was finding more and more that her phone calls home were bing more of a nuisance


    than a blessing. There wasn''t a day that passed by that she didn''t want to race to the airport and hop


    on the very first ne back to Ohio. She was beginning to believe that her journey was all but in her


    head, along with the events of the previous months.


    She harbored such thoughts ever since first arriving in Jamaica. Nothing about the country made her


    feel at ease. Almost everything and everyone had gotten on herst nerve; and the people that she


    could tolerate were beginning to wear thin upon her as well. From the food, the noise, the rain and the


    heat Lyte just wanted to drop dead right in the middle of the street and remain there until someone


    found it within themselves to bury her.


    The moment her bike rounded the bend that dead ended towards The Kabal her stomach immediately


    began twisting and churning. A sour taste began swirling about inside her mouth the closer she made it


    to the ce until her feet that were pedaling so fast at one point started to feel like sludge. She got off


    the bike andnced it to a wooden fence before speedily carrying herself to the backdoor. The very


    second she walked through the door the ruckus of waiters and cooks bantering back and forth in the


    kitchen rushed at her full bore. From one end to the other men and women raced around, avoiding one


    another in their daily course of discussing the menu.


    Lyte only wrapped her scarf around her already sweating head and inhaled the curry aroma that


    suffocated the already stifling kitchen.


    "Ya keep gettingter andter, girl!" Clea announced as she came flying through the swinging doors


    from the dining area.


    Lyte blushed as she swiped one of the order tickets from off the hanging turnstile and studied its


    writing. Clea stood next to Lyte and said nothing. Lyte could feel a presence beside her but her


    attention was far away.


    "Ya look like you''ve been cryin'', girl." Clea whispered into her ear.


    Jumping back, Lyte said, "Oh...I was just thinking about something."


    "Ya know she always gets dat way after talking to her son!" Another one of the waitresses loudly


    remarked as she carried arge te of food out into the dining room.


    Lyte just stared and rolled her eyes at the woman before starting for the dining room. But before


    she could take even one step, Clea took her by the hand and said, "Don''t ya let Mr. Hunta or dose


    Yankee boys we be servin'' all day see ya look like dat, girl."


    Instantly, Lyte went over to the small mirror on the wall next to the backdoor and examined herself.


    Within the mirror she saw a face flush with both tears and sorrow. She promptly wiped it all away


    before turning, brushing right past Clea and bolting out into the busy dining area. Her once distressed


    face had within the span of three seconds blossomed into a blissful bouquet of a smile and dreamy


    eyes that caused most patrons to instantaneously take notice of her. Lyte spotted her assigned


    table and right away made a mad dash over to where an older, white couple was already seated.


    "Hello, my name is Lyte, and I''ll be taking your order today." She continued to smile.


    "Oh, you''re actually an American!" The balding man looked up amazed.


    Taken aback, Lyte replied, "Yep, I sure am."


    "Wow, you have to be the first American we''ve seen since we''ve been here." Thedy appeared so


    amused. "We''re the Millers. I''m June, and this is Bill."


    "Oh really," Lyte began to rx a bit.


    "Yeah, we''ve been here now for the past two days, and we haven''t seen or heard an American up until


    now."


    "There''s actually a few scattered about here and there." Lyte said.


    "Whereabouts from the states are you from? If you don''t mind us asking," Bill queried.


    "I''m from Ohio."


    "Are you serious?" They both lit up. "We''re from Ohio, too!"


    Still hugging her smile, Lyte asked, "Wow, what a coincidence."


    "What city are you from?" June asked.


    "Cypress."


    "We''re from Canton. We''re here for our twentieth wedding anniversary." Bill enthusiastically gripped his


    wife''s hand. "It''s amazing that this town was started just a few years ago. " He marveled. "And by a


    gang of hippies, no less!"


    The conversationsted a bit longer than it should have for a waitress, but Lyte couldn''t seem to


    help herself. Just hearing another voice that didn''t sound like an inder''s caused her once tumbling


    stomach to gradually settle. It didn''t make a difference what color they were, they reminded her of


    home, and that alone made the young woman onlyugh all the harder at their over-exuberant


    behavior. Once she had taken their orders Lyte ran the ticket back to the kitchen. She then came


    back out and quickly went to her next assigned table where a well-dressed white man was seated with


    the menu hiding his face.


    "Hello, sir. Wee to The Kabal. Can I take your order?" She continued to shine.


    Livingston, adorned in a sandy-colored zer, matching cks and a white shirt, ced the menu


    down onto the table.


    "Good day, Love." He spoke in a more dignified vernacr. "It''s good to be here."


    "What can I get for you today, sir?"


    Smiling from cheek to cheek, Livingston stared straight at Lyte before saying, "I must say that I''ve


    been to this ce quite a few times, but I never knew they employed Americans."


    "Yeah, I''m only here for a little while, and then I''m heading right back home."


    ring with kindness, Livingston replied, "I see. I see. Well, what do you suggest?"


    "I seem to be a wee-bit sloggered, everyone!" Ss came stumbling out of nowhere with a shot ss


    full of bourbon and a loud, jovial mouth for everyone in the restaurant to hear.


    Amused, Lyte rolled her eyes at the drunken man while Livingston appeared on the thralls of


    getting up and separating the man''s head from the rest of his body.


    "You''ll have to forgive him." Lyte exined. "Sometimes it gets a little rowdy in here."


    "A bit garish for my taste," Livingston grumbled under his breath whileposing himself.


    Pointing down at the menu, Lyte said, "Well, the sweet potato hash is really good, so is the


    coconut soup."


    The second Lyte removed her eyes away from the menu she noticed that Livingston suddenly had


    an intriguing re staring right at her. It was an alluring, if not spaced out stare that caused the young


    lady''s smile to slowly dissipate.


    "I must say,ing from my homnd, I have never tried sweet potatoes before." Livingston ced


    his hands on the table.


    "Back in my country we prepare them a bit differently; but they''re still good here, too."


    "I''m awfully d to know that. This ce beats an old pub anytime, my dear."


    Lyte continued to stand at the table, practically melting inside her own tennis shoes. She wasn''t


    ttered, but rather anxious to take the man''s order.


    "I shall have your sweet potato hash, and I shall top it off with a bottle of your best rum."


    Lyte wrote down the man''s order. "Okay, and will that be all?"


    "And just one more thing," Livingston held up his right hand.


    Lyte waited for at least four seconds for the man to say what he was supposed to say. But when all


    he did was sit and stare the woman began to believe that he may have been yet another visiting ''hands


    on'' drunkard; in the afternoon, no less.


    "Could you please indulge me with just one answer?"


    With a pair of shifty eyes, the woman stuttered, "What would that be?"


    "Could you please direct me to the bathroom?" Livingston snickered.


    Unclenching her body, Lyte grinned and pointed, "Yeah, it''s down that hallway there."


    "I am your servant." He bowed his head.


    Walking away and shaking her head in an amused fashion, Lyte made her way into the kitchen.


    Just as soon as she stuck the order ticket to the turnstile one of the cooks called out, "Lynn, dere''s


    someone at de backdoor for ya!"


    Lyte paused for a few moments before cautiously walking to the door. She opened it and looked


    around only to see the alley and a few trash cans.


    "Over here." A man''s voice whispered.


    Stunned, Lyte looked to her left to see a young, ragged looking ck man standing behind the


    door. Lyte shut the backdoor behind her and approached the man.


    "I told you not toe by here." She folded her arms in disgust.


    Lyte then spun around to see another ragtag looking man approaching her from behind. They both


    had the appearance of homeless men. The smell about them was that of marijuana mixed with alcohol


    and must. Their beards were so full that only their eyes could be seen.


    "Do ya have our money?" One of the men held out his right hand.


    "I didn''t find what I was looking for, so no, I don''t have your damn money." Lyte said in a belligerent


    tone.


    "But we gave ya the directions to de mon." The other fellow remarked.


    Lyte turned around. "All I found was a swamp." She sternly replied. "I shot an alligator."


    At that instant both men burst out intoughter at her expense. "Ya not shoot an alligator, girl, ya shot a


    crocodile!"


    "Who cares?" She tossed up her arms. "We''ve been doing this for the past month, and still I have


    nothing! I''m not giving either of you anymore money! You''re both full of shit!"


    Lyte then attempted to turn and open the door, only to have both men grab and restrain her before


    mming her against the brick wall.


    "Ya American''s tink yae here and tell us what to do!" One of the men sneered into her face with his


    rank breath. "We want our money!"


    The other man whipped out a switchde and pressed it against Lyte''s face. All the woman could


    possibly do at that painstaking instant was hope to at least faint.


    "Give us our fuckin'' money or we cut your ck ass up and mail ya back to whitend!"


    Lyte was afraid, but her attackers were not men, rather, they were full of fur and fangs. That was all


    she could see threatening her with imminent death.


    "What be happenin'' out here!" An older ck man came rushing out the backdoor.


    Without warning, both of the attackers took off down the opposite end of the alley until they were no


    longer in sight.


    Clea, along with the older man and another man came out to console Lyte. "I tol you not to deal wit


    dem mountain boys, gal," Clea shouted. "Dey be nuttin'' but trouble and de devil!"


    But Lyte was without much emotion as the three cajoled her back inside the building. She was


    shaking from head to toe, her eyes were wide and jittery, but the fear was repressed. The fear itself


    was ever so present, and yet the thought of shedding even one tear never crossed her mind. Not once.


    "Come on in here and sit down." The manager of the restaurant said to Lyte.


    Slowly, Lyte sat down in a chair that was ced next to the backdoor. Everyone inside the kitchen


    stood and watched with worried eyes at the young woman who appearedpletely shell-shocked to


    the naked eye.


    "Good God, mon!" One of the cooks hollered.


    Everyone turned and looked at the man who just happened to be standing at the sink. The cook


    jumped back as ck ooze funneled out of and onto the floor like sludge. They all watched in dreaded


    horror as the liquid saturated the already dirty linoleum.


    "Get de mops!" The manager hysterically ordered as he himself raced from one end of the kitchen to


    the other.


    Lyte sat perfectly still and watched as everyone ran like crazed mice trying to soak up the ck


    filth before it reached the dining area. The muck was thick, and yet it somehow managed to seep like


    water throughout the kitchen in such a rapid movement. Lyte nced over at the sink where the


    ckness was still bubbling up and over. From her near fatal stabbing to a mysterious ooze taking over


    the kitchen was all she could withstand for the day.


    With not much on her mind Lyte simply got up from out of her chair and sshed across the floor,


    past one co-worker after another towards the dining area. The instant she entered into the dining room


    everyone within all stopped and stared as the woman left ck imprints on the floor that were tracked


    from the kitchen. Even Ss the drunk managed to pause his frivolity in order to view the mess that she


    was leaving in her wake as Lyte lethargically exited the restaurant altogether without looking


    back.