Moment of Clarity?

The area code was 912, but I didn’t recognize the number. I don’t really talk to anyone in Savannah besides my mom and grandma, so I almost didn’t answer the phone. The Georgia-Auburn game was winding down in the background as I flipped open my cell phone. The voice on the other end was vaguely familiar, like a remnant from a past life experience.

“Hi, can I speak to Shawn?”

“This is me. Who’s this?”

“Shawn, this is Traci.”

“Hey, Traci! How are ya?

I put on my fake everything is all right with me voice, as she spoke. My sense of foreboding told me that this was not a catch up call. There was a purpose to this conversation that had yet to be revealed. Although, my phone number hadn’t changed in the 3 years that elapsed since our last encounter, this was the first time I had spoken to Traci. We had no animosity; we were just two acquaintances that had drifted apart. Traci immediately got to the point, something that I always liked about her.

“Do you remember that girl Kionna you used to mess with?”

I remembered Kionna. Back in 98, we used to work together. She lived in Hinesville, about 45 minutes away from me. I was fresh out of a 3 year relationship and she was the first girl I had hooked up with subsequently. I remember she had a Winnie the Pooh tattoo on her right calf and big expressive eyes. Eyes which seldom lit up the way that God intended for them to. For all her beauty and blessings, she was not a very happy person. In fact she seemed to dwell on all the negative around her. That was a major contributing factor to us calling it quits after a few months. Well, that and the plethora of available women at my job.

“Yeah, I remember her. What about her?

“Well, she was murdered yesterday.”

“WHAT???”

“Yeah, she got killed last night. Her boyfriend shot her and her son and then shot himself.”

“I can’t believe it. Why did he do that?”

“Nobody knows. He just went crazy and killed them all.”

Then the silence took over. I didn’t know what to say or even how to feel. Kionna and I were never really close, no I love you’s were exchanged, no gifts for Valentines Day. We were just doing it, so to speak. And that was 7 years ago. So why did I have a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach?

“Shawn, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t think you guys were that close”

“Yeah, I’m fine. That’s just fucked up. I can’t believe that she’s dead. And little Ramon, he was only like 10?”

“11. I just thought I should tell you. The funeral is gonna be some time this week if you can make it down.”

“Yeah, I don’t know yet. Let me know the details and I’ll see if I can make it.”

“I’ll do that. It would be good to see you again. Although under horrible circumstances.”

“Yeah”

“Well, I’ll let you go now. Go ahead and save this number in your phone. I don’t want another 3 years to go by before we talk again”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. And you can call anytime. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I sat back on the couch in a daze. I didn’t know how to deal with this news, on top of everything else that’s been going on. I started to feel dizzy (perhaps that was because I hadn’t eaten for the past 32 hours) and my mind started swirling. So what did I do? I put my sneakers and walked out the door. I had no idea where I was going, no destination was set, I just felt compelled to walk and think. As I made it to the front of my complex, the wind blowing in my face, I realized, I probably should have on a jacket, or at least long sleeves, but it was too late; my mission had already begun. I was gonna walk until I couldn’t walk anymore, or until certain things came into focus, whichever came first. I needed a moment of clarity…

It was written…