Vassili
I’m in a dead sleep when my cell phone rings. I left the damn thing on because Zariah was supposed to call me when they headed home. It’s a little after ten pm, it can’t be them. The concert doesn’t end for another hour at the very least. Placing the pillow over my head, I groan and try to reclaim the sleep I had going. Then my cell phone goes off for a second time.
“Fuck, I am going to murder whoever this is,” I grumble to myself. Blind to the night, I reach over and feel for my cell phone, snatch it up, and answer.
“Vassili, come over now!” It’s Anna, Igor’s wife. Her voice is heavy with anxiety. I can hear Malich shouting in the background.
Before my fucking brain can catch up, I’m out of the bed, tripping over the discarded high heels Zariah was unable to choose from for the concert. “What the fuck is going on, Anna?”
There’s lots of sniffling and her voice breaks with each syllable, “They shot up the house.”
Lightning streaks through my veins, and I stumble, losing my balance while shrugging into a pair of jeans. “What? Who the fuck shot up the house?”
“Please come. Your uncle is talking to the cops. Oh shit, they’re putting him in the back of the squad car. Vassili, we need you.”
“Why are the cops taking Malich?” I shout. The phone goes dead. My uncle may have done bad things in his day, but he knows when to play by the rules. I dial Zariah. It rings and rings.
“Fuck,” I hang up and dial her number again. What can I do with Natasha?
My baby starts crying the second I turn the light on to the nursery.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby girl. Daddy’s sorry,” I grumble while picking her up. She’s in some cotton footie pajamas. With the hot summer nights, I forgo a jacket for her, and shuffle down the stairs with her in my arms. When I put her in the car, I tell myself to drive safely while Natasha silently sobs, a desperate, sleepy cry.
“Everything will be okay,” I tell her.
***
Twenty minutes later, I see the blue and red lights before I even hit the corner where my uncle’s mansion is. The police cruisers line the entire block. Shit, I wonder if it’s half the damn police force here tonight.
Anna is in a robe, with big curlers in her hair, talking to a uniformed cop. With nowhere else to park, I stop in the middle of the street, get out. I make a mad dash to the backseat, and scoop Natasha up. She offers a desperate little whimper. Before I can apologize again, a Mexican cop is shouting at me.
“Sir, you cannot park there!” He yells from the sidewalk. “Sir, you cannot park there!”
“Give me a fucking ticket,” I tell him.
Anna comes running down the slope of wet grass. She slides and almost falls. Natasha is glancing around; her caramel complexion is already red from all the crying she’s done. But she seems to be deciphering whether to continue crying or not. She yawns into my arms.
“Igor is… Igor is…” I shift Natasha into my left arm as Anna clings to my right side. I’m holding her 110-pound frame in one arm and Natasha in the other when she tells me something that makes me wanna fucking hit the ground. Anna sobs, “My husband is dead, Vassili.”
I’m too in shock to make a move. I glance at her in confusion, but the cop asks, “Sir, what is your relationship to Mrs. Resnov?”
Anna sobs louder which prompts Natasha to burst into another round of waterworks.
“She is my cousin’s wife. Igor Resnov, is he…” My jaw clenches. Fuck, I cannot say it. My pupils expand as I notice a bloody mess on the welcome mat near the door. There’s yellow tape, a dude in a suit and more uniform cops there. Some other guy, with a SID uniform on, is taking photos. This is fucking real. I’ve seen dead bodies, mangled, tortured, all fucked-over looking. My father would have his enemies lined up. But that was a different time. They weren’t family. The drum of my heart in my ears causes much difficulty for me to hear. “Igor is he…”
“Yes, sir, pronounced dead on the scene.”
“Where is Malich and Yuri?” I ask him, rubbing Anna’s back, and holding Natasha to my neck. Fuck, my baby isn’t to see shit like this. Never.
“A man of the similar age as Igor Resnov was also taken to the hospital.”
My legs fail me. Anna crumples to the ground, I go with her, placing Natasha in my lap as we fall. Yuri is closer than blood to me.
“He should make it, sir.” The Latino says more sympathetically. “Malich Resnov was just escorted downtown for questioning.”
***
I’m at Cedar Sinai, Natasha has fallen asleep in Anna’s arms. The poor woman seemed to hold my one-year-older like a teddy bear, and it brings them both comfort, as I pace around, waiting for word on Yuri. Igor and Anna’s four children are seated in the same row, heads all leaning to the left. The youngest, Albina was a few months younger than Natasha when I brought Zariah to the house for the first time. Albina is now a toddler; her head is rested on the side of Natasha. It’s three in the morning when Malich is released from the jailhouse.
He’s still in his pajamas with a camel coat. My uncle’s skin is white as snow as he enters.
I go to him. “What the fuck happened?”
“Your father.” My uncle’s searing glower moves away from me for a moment. There’s a war within him. He’s angry at my motherfucking father! Malich continues in a serious tone, “Anatoly left us wide open for retaliation. This has something to do with the government official in Italy that Danushka took out for him, I know it. They came up, disrespectful motherfuckers, drove by, shot up the house. Igor went out first. Then Yuri. Before your cousin went down, Yuri confirmed they were Italian.”
I step away from Malich as he sinks down into a chair. I head down the hall to call my father when I see Zariah and Ms. Haskins rush into the double doors. My wife’s face is wet with tears.
“Baby, we’ve called jails, hospitals! Why aren’t you answering your phone?” She’s angry and shaking. “I was just told a Resnov was here, I thought it was you. Don’t ever do that, baby. Don’t ever leave me wondering.”
Zariah rushes into my arms. She’s hugging and hitting me. “I almost died,” she says. And then Zariah sniffles, rubs away her own tears and looks at me. She realizes I haven’t been hugging her back.
“My kazen is dead,” I say the words for the first time tonight.
“Oh,” she clings to me again. “Yu—”
“Igor. Igor… is dead. Yuri is here. He’s in the OR.”
“Oh my god,” Her mother says.
“Natasha is asleep, with Anna.” I nudge my head. Ms. Haskins starts off as I finally hold Zariah tightly. I can feel tears burning in my eyes. The last time I was torn to tears, Sasha died.