Imanni

Chapter 8: Better days?

A/n: Its been sooo long, yeesh.  I had major writer's block for this book because an entire chapter got deleted and I-

x
My feet dragged along the streets of the neighborhood I was at the day before. My eyes landed on the old man's house and the flowers that were dying at the front. He was nowhere to be seen, so I cautiously stepped forward and poured some of the water I had brought and a little of my self made garden mixture. I took care of the plant for about two minutes before quickly getting up and leaving before he saw me and accused me of stealing or something.

As I walked down the money ridden street, I let my thoughts stray.

Do you wanna know the secret to living long?

Suffer.

As long as you're suffering, and you want that to change, you won't die young. Believe that.

I thought about the nights that I would stay up and think about better times, hoping that they would come, that the future would be better but I don't know. Maybe Gelan was my symbol of hope for better times, and that's the one thing I'd have to hold on to.

x

Today I had reached the end of the neighbourhood, and only earned about fifty dollars, whoch would be okay for tonight, but what about the other times? What about tomorrow? And what about when Geegee's clothes finally become to worn out to use.

"You!" I Look up while walking home, and take a step back while the angry old man practically pounced towards me. 

"Excuse me?"

"What were you doing on my lawn this morning?" The man could barely walk without his cane, his green eyes dull and almost lifeless. He had a wisp of sheen white hair on his head, and wore plaid mismatched clothing.

"I wasn't on your lawn sir, I was just in the front, adding a little life to your flowers," I decide that it would probably be wise for me to leave but once again he stops me. His eyes glance at the flowers that were already beginning to slowly leap with life.

"What did you do to them?"

"I created a substance . . ."

He glanced at the flowers once again, walking over slowly to touch them and he then glares at me.

"Who are you?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Listen to me boy, I can have you arrested under false accusations if I wanted to, you better speak up," my heart leaped in my throat, anger and frustration simmering at the truth of it.

"My name is Immani Ross."

"You live around here?" He asks and I give him a dead look.

"Does it look like I live around here?" He hums, his face still stern before he turns to leave.

I stand still for a moment, and he looks back.

"Well, are you coming?"

Curiosity gets the best of me as I follow him into his yard, and then through the backyard.

"My name is Poly Coaxsten," he begins as he slowly canes through the nicely trimmed grass. "My wife died five years ago, she drowned."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine. Everyone's sorry except the man who did it."

"She was murdered?" I ask in shock and he waves me off.

"I don't want to speak about it really, the man's gone now, he was executed."

"Oh."

"You know what's funny?"

"What is?" We stop for a moment as he looks thoughtful, peering up at me.

"They believed it was a black man, and had one innocently imprisoned for an entire year," he shakes his head. "But I knew it wasn't him. The evidence was faulty, the entire case was a mess really, but what I really saw was that man's eyes. His eyes," he stressed.

"God they were so sincere, so real. I had never seen so much . . . so much truth in someone's eyes as he pleaded with me to believe him when he said that he did not killed my wife. And so, I did everything that I could to get him out of that system, my money, my name I used it and I got that innocent man out of that . . . corrupt system we use for justice."

I was shocked into silence, barely able to conjure up words.

"They found the real killer, and execute him at my request, while I was presented and you know what he did? He smiled. He grinned at me, mocking her screams while he died." He's silent and for a moment, I wonder why he's telling me all of this when we're complete strangers and a while ago he was mugging me.

"It's terrifying how we paint blacks as . . . as criminals when the majority of sadism comes from our kind. I don't hate blacks Imanni, nor would I have called the police on you."

I nod, understanding while still a bit skeptical and wary.

"Anyway, my wife loved flowers, she loved plants," he explained as we finally arrived at the back and my mouth dropped open.

The size of the yard was the size of the apartment complex I used to live in, and some more. Imagine that, covered with a haven of flowers, fruits and trees, it was . . .  amazing.

"Jeez," I breathed in, closing my eyes at the fresh air. When I reopened them, I found the man smiling at me, and immediately had the urge to coil away.

"Just the reaction I'm looking for," He comments before nodding to himself, "I need you to take care of this entire yard."

"Huh?"

"Yup, I want to pay you son . . . I'm getting old, and frankly I just can't take care of them anymore. I believe that God sent you to this neighborhood for a re-"

"Hold on . . . just a moment ago you were practically murdering me with your eyes . . . now you want to hire me?"

"It was a test. You could've either react terribly and curse me and my dead wife even if you didn't know . . . well you get the gist, or you could've simply walked away. And that's what you did."

I'm confused.

"If you want Imanni, this entire place is yours to take care of, your own hours, your insight, the only thing I ask is that . . .  is that you don't let these plants die," he gulps, his eyes moving to mine and I gape.

"O-okay." I didn't know what else to say, truly.

"Thank you. Everyday that you come you'll earn a fixed amount of $600 dollars, because it's a lot of land to cover, is that alright." I almost choke on my tongue at his words.

"Is that alright? It's perfect. Thank you." My eyes almost glisten with tears as I think about all the things I could do for Gee.

"If you can start tomorrow, that would be great."

"I have a daughter back home, so I can't stay as late. By 4, or 4:30 I'd need to leave."

"You have a child?" His eyes light up and I nod.

"Feel free to bring her over anytime! My fridge is stocked and I can get toys delivered - oh yes! Ill get them done tonight."

"Mr. Coaxsten, excuse me for asking but . . . is there . . .  are your intentions pure? This just seems so surreal-"

"I understand Imanni, it's a shame that your race has to question every good thing that comes to them because of their terrible history, but I assure you that all I really want to do is keep my wife's garden alive, because if it dies . . . I die."