Free Hell on the Heart by Nancy Brophy Page A

pitched a fit in such proportions as to bring Cezi before the Elders to answer for all her sins.
    She shook the inhaler again and inhaled a second puff. Rolf rubbed circles on her back with the flat of his hand.
    “Need another inhaler?”
    She shook her head. Her lungs eased. They stood in silence with her head resting on his shoulder while he stroked her back.
    “Let’s take a walk toward the lake. A little exercise will do you good.”
    Too weary to argue, she nodded in silent agreement.
    # # #
    John strode across the grassy compound after meeting with the Elders, headed toward the lake. He ran his thumb over his cell phone until he found speed dial. Twilight brought a smattering of stars and cooler temperatures. A brisk walk would clear his head from the too-sweet wine and fragrant cigar smoke of the dinner.
    The threat of a storm hadn’t abated. Everyone scurried, preparing for the worse.
    A woman, bent double, tugged at a faded plastic flamingo, the remaining flock lay beside her on the ground. She stilled until he’d passed. A word mumbled beneath her breath reached him. “ Gajikané .”
    He had no idea if the woman was Catholic or not, but it wouldn’t have surprised him for her to have crossed herself for protection. One woman taking in her laundry, spit at the ground. Most were satisfied with only a hissing noise and a baring of teeth.
    D’Sean answered on the fourth ring.
    “Have you seen your mother?” Kanye West music blared in the background.
    The tranquil setting warred with the brightly colored homes. Shiny silver shapes, stars, circles, diamonds were nailed on the trim, giving the houses an eerie sparkle in the fading light. Fountains, gazing balls and statues decorated the lawns. Each house he passed appeared in competition with the next.
     “Yeah,” the music faded either because D’Sean had adjusted the volume or changed locations. “I got here about an hour ago.”
    John lowered his voice. He needed to know his answer to the question that troubled him. “Were the gypsies right?” Or had getting rid of D’Sean been a ruse?
    He turned from the congested community and gazed toward the lake. Graceful weeping willows arched before floating to the ground providing a shimmering curtain of privacy from the lake on the other side.
    The voice on the other end of the line was silent for a minute. “I’d barely stepped out of the cab when she sat up in bed and announced to my sister. ‘I knew if I wished hard enough, he’d come.’” John heard the catch in his friend’s throat.
    “Wow.”
    “She looks worse than I’d imagined. Gray and ashen. I’m pissed at my sister for not calling earlier, but the family didn’t want to worry me.”
    “She gonna be okay?” John kicked some pebbles in the road and watched them scatter, sensing his partner’s helpless struggle. Give D’Sean a gun, point out the enemy and he was the man you’d want at your back.
    But despite his steadfastness, women couldn’t hack his coldness. He emitted enough charm to seduce them into bed for a night or two, but girlfriend was a short-term status with him. Women, he claimed, wanted a warrior who could cry in their arms.
    He wasn’t that guy. Like John, he was neither sensitive nor did he give a moment’s thought to the emotional mechanisms that went on in women’s minds. Most women accepted it. Mothers fell into a different category.
    “Surgery’s been postponed. I’ll know more tomorrow when she meets with the doctor.”
    John grunted. For the first time he saw the sparkle of water glint through the trees and moved in that direction. The flat, yellow Texas prairie morphed into silky water, cascading hills and ribbons of blue and green.
    “How are you doing there?” D’Sean asked.
    John exhaled the frustration of his day through puckered lips. “I’d hate to put any one of these people on the witness stand. They don’t appear to be lying, but you can’t get a straight answer from any of