DON RIGTCHY THELORT - LOCKS
Don Rigtchy Thelort, born in Haiti but grew up in the Dominican Republic, having both sides of the island in his blood made him a perfect dancer, cook, and storyteller. English, being his third language become to be an obstacle after he moved to the United States. It was hard for him to publish his works or translate books written years ago from Spanish to English, so he decided to go to college to better himself studying Creative Writing for Entertainment at Full Sail University. Even if his mom and dad wanted him to be a doctor or a lawyer, he decided to pursue his dreams with no regrets. He lives in Fort Knox, KY with his two daughters and his lovely wife.
The drug business started like selling candy to kids, every addicted guy from the street would knock on Kent’s door to get some sweet nectar no matter the hour.
One day his daughter came from school with bruises all over her body because of a bully. Kent decided to pay some thugs to take care of the situation without thinking it twice.
“Why did you have to resolved it like that?” asked Marta.
“None of your businesses woman, I just need to do what I got to do,” said Kent.
“But, taking care of the business like that, is not the best option,” said Marta.
“C’mon woman, it’s for our daughter,” said Kent.
The bully was the mayor’s grandson, and he didn’t like his grandson being at the hospital, so for the next weeks instead of junkies on their doorstep, it was threatening letter from the Mayor. Marta was restless for weeks, so the best option was to move the business somewhere else, and to send Julie to her sister’s house until everything cooled down.
A night when kent was on his night shift, the drug dealers came to get their money that he owed them for a month now. They broke in the house, they were opening every cabinet looking for the drugs or money. They kept waiting for Marta to come out of the room or for Kent to come through the door.
The love that Marta felt for Kent was stronger than any thought of escaping. So she got on her feet with all the strength of the world to pay for Kent’s debt and she opened the door with a prayer on the tip of her tongue, hoping for a miracle.
“Where is your husband?” asked one of the thugs.
“You already know that he would not be here at this time,” said Marta.
“Are you trying to be a smart-ass?” said one of the thugs pointing the weapon at her.
They stood up there looking at each other when suddenly Kent open the door. The thugs had Marta in a headlock position with the pistol in her back.
“Where is the money, man?” asked one of the thugs.
“I swear, no later than Tuesday, you’ll get your money back,” said Jake.
“You are telling me that you ain’t got my shit, homie?” asked one of the thugs before pressing the trigger.
It took Marta by surprise that Kent had the money in the room but still lie to the thugs. Her body hit the floor, a second one went straight to her spine and everything turned pitch dark.
Marta wakes up in her room by Julie’s cries. She could see the repentance on Kent’s face, he was trying to redeem his actions, he wanted to apologize, but the harm was already there.
“So, Madame, I have a good and bad news for you,” said the Curandera.
“I am too old for surprises, what is the news?” asked Marta.
“The good news is, the bullet did not affect any major nerve” said the Curandera.
“So, I am not gonna stay like a vegetable?” asked Marta.
“No, but you are not gonna be able to walk straight anymore,” said the Curandera.
The news did not affect her at all, and it seems the broken one was Kent. Month flies with the remaining feeling that Marta had for Kent.
“Dad installed another lock in the house after the accident,” said Julie.
“ Oh, really?” asked Marta “He could have prevented it.”
“Where is dad?” asked July.
“He went for a walk,” said Marta “For a long Walk.”
He didn’t want to step back in the house, she wouldn’t let him get inside her heart, he just left without turning back, and Marta just closed the door without any doubt.
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