Between Books: Volume Seventeen- Carlos' Dilemma 
After The Forbidden, Before The Damned
December 2005 

At the house in Arizona...

He was done. Through. There were no words. Carlos stalked down the hallway back to the bedroom where all the un-married male Guardians slept, found his jeans, a t-shirt, and his Tims, and yanked them on hard. He was out. Period. Forget trying to go back to sleep. The vibrations still lingering in the bathroom and bouncing off the tiles were making the hair stand up on his arms. Hed brush his teeth in the yard and keep moving. Could take a leak in the woods; who needed a house? Solitude was calling his name. 

And to think, Damali had the nerve to go back into the all-female bedroom with the other women and hide out there, like anybody cared if they got busy! Berkfield was grown, knew the deal. This was crazy, made no kinda sense, whatsoever. 

Carlos stomped down the hall, not worried about waking people. What did it matter, anyway, if the whole house got up? He angrily got his toothbrush, some toothpaste, and a razor, and headed toward the kitchen to leave by way of the back door. He wasnt trying to pass the bedroom where Damali was hold-up; he didnt trust himself not to open the door and totally lose his pride by outright begging her in front of anybody in there. No. Especially with Nita and Inez in there. 

Thats all they needed to see was him trying to cop a plea. Juanita would be snarling while Inez had a shit-eating grin on her face, and Krissys eyes would widen like a doe caught in the headlights. Knowing Damali, shed be so embarrassed shed hurl a lamp at him, and then it would be on all chances of mid-day nooky killed all because he lost his mind and went in there trying to talk Damalis draws off in fronta her girls. Uh uh. He was smoother than that. And what was that crazy dream of hers about, anyway? 

He didnt get it? Carlos kept walking. Get out of the house, man, before you do something really stupid, he told himself. But Damali had said herself that shed dreamt about making love, and was still wet as hell from it, and didnt want to? Hed picked up the scent the moment he got close to her in the hall. That lit his fuse, fired him up real good. What was there to discuss? Talk? Shit. About what? Actions spoke louder than words, any day, any night! How did women just roll like that, he wondered? Just hit a mental switch and be out of the mood? Yeah, if theyd been called to battle stationsokay. He could see that. But anything short of a call to arms, from a mans perspective, once the time bomb was activated, there was only one recourse. That sucker had to detonate on impact, had to blow. Period. Basic. What was the problem? 

Want some coffee? Berkfield muttered as Carlos entered the kitchen. 

Hell no, Carlos grumbled and kept walking. 

Okay Berkfield said, holding the pot mid-air as Carlos passed him and slammed open the back door with a loud bang. 

Following Carlos onto the porch in his old striped robe and beat-up leather slippers, Berkfield brought two mugs and the pot outside with a smile, watching Carlos cross the field brushing his teeth. 

Hold up, Berkfield shouted. Two-by-two detail at all times, Marlene and Bazz said. 

Berkfield hustled down the steps behind Carlos sloshing coffee when Carlos simply raised his middle finger without turning around. It took a moment for Berkfields short strides to catch up with Carloss long, angry lope, but eventually both men were side-by-side. 

You look like youve got a case of the rabies, Rivera, Berkfield said, slightly out of breath. 

Carlos spit and wiped away toothpaste with the back of his forearm. I do! Im foaming at the fucking mouthso why dont you go back in the house, where its safe? 

Berkfield grinned and poured Carlos a mug of black coffee, handing it to him as they walked, and then poured one for himself. 

Why are you following me? Carlos stopped walking and looked at Berkfield hard. 

Berkfield glimpsed the razor in Carloss hand. You aint thinking of committing Hari-kari are you? 

Im gonna shave, Carlos muttered and began walking again. 

Most folks I know use a mirror over the bathroom sink you aint having reflection issues again, are ya, pal? Berkfield chuckled and tried to keep up with Carloss increasing pace. 

Yeah, well, I dont need a mirrorright about through here. I was thinking of slitting my own throat, anyway. Been that kinda morning. 

Aw, cmon, man, Berkfield said, rounding Carlos to get him to slow down. Im just messing with ya. 

I aint in the frame, awight, Carlos said, looking at Berkfields flushed face. My nerves cant handle it. 

Look, okay, Im sorry, Berkfield said, and then glanced around. Had I known ya know? 

Carlos briefly closed his eyes. You knew? 

Well after the fact, Berkfield admitted, making Carlos stare at him as he dropped his voice and spoke with a wide smile. I aint got no special powers like the other guys, or nothingbut Im a cop, and a guy and youd have to be brain-dead not to put two and two together. 

Yeah, well, tell that to her, Carlos muttered, and then jammed his toothbrush and the toothpaste into his back jeans pocket, took a sip of coffee, and set the mug on the ground with care. He then flipped open the straight edge razor and stared at it for a moment. 

Berkfield backed up, laughing. I was hoping youd take it better than this at least give a guy a fighting chance and wouldnt cut him in his robe and slippers in the yard, mafia stylethats cold, Rivera. 

Carlos smiled a half smile and began shaving in the blind, trying not to laugh at Berkfields ribbing. It was, indeed, truly ridiculous. 

Just be smart, though, Berkfield said, now slurping his coffee, peering over his mug with a mischievous grin. Dont let on that I knowno matter what, or itll be a really long time before shes comfortable. Capice? 

Please. Get serious, man, Carlos said, dragging the blade under his chin. 

Been married a lotta years, brother, Berkfield said, glancing back to the house. Ill let you in on a little secret, since I owe ya. Berkfield waited patiently until Carlos let out a heavy breath and looked at him. You aint all by yourself in this dilemma. 

Carlos just stared at him for a moment. How you figure? You sleep with your wife every night. You and Shabazz got old-head waivers and special privileges that the rest of us 

If itll make you feel any better, Marjorie cant relax in all this chaos, either, Berkfield said, nursing his coffee. Why you think me and Bazz walk the floors when were supposed to be asleep? It aint insomnia, buddy. Nervous energy will do that to a man. 

I feel you, Carlos muttered, and began shaving again. TMI, though. Thats your business. 

Berkfield let out a weary sigh. Its like when wed go to her folks for the holidays. Berkfield set the coffee pot down on the withered grass and shook his head, then rubbed his palm over his bald scalp. Like, were married have two kidsand wed get to my parents house and she acts like Bobby and Krissy were born from Immaculate Conception. I dont get it? I dont claim to know the reason why. Its like Berkfield opened his arms and walked in a circle sloshing his coffee. Like one of the mysteries of the universe. 

Carlos nicked himself and drew blood. You serious? 

Yeah, man, Berkfield said and took another loud slurp of coffee. By the way, youre bleeding. 

Carlos dabbed the cut and chuckled. This aint nothing but a scrape. 

Oh, yeah, I forgot, Berkfield said, smiling. Thats akin to a vamp hicky. 

Dont remind me, Carlos said, putting the razor to his jaw. The real bleed-out happened when you cut my throat and knocked on that door, man. Hit a mental artery. Theres still probably a pool of blood on the bathroom floormine. Carlos removed the razor from his half-shaven face and stared at Berkfield for answers. You really think theyre all gonna be uptight for the whole time we have to be here until the new compound is built? 

Sad, but true, Berkfield said, coming to land a supportive hand on Carloss shoulder. Plus, the way I heard it is, the newbies have to learn whatever theyve gotta learn, uncorruptednot that I understand any of this metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. But, according to Marlene, uh, if I can speak frank, theyre tied to you Neteru guys energy, or somethin and uh back at the motel, there was this ripple effect that got kinda outta hand. Marlene told Marj, she told me, you know how that goes. 

I dont even wanna talk about it. Carlos started shaving again, now really pissed off. That was the last time hed been able to get next to Damali that one last, rock-the-house-till-the-early-dawn time. That break-your-back-or-die-trying state of oblivion. He remembered it like it was yesterday, but sadly it wasnt. It had been one of those baby, you got me talking in tongues out of my mind kinda times, that was oh sooo good he practically shuddered while he was shaving. Somebody slap him. 

I feel your pain, but, it caused a problem, ya know? Berkfield took a purposeful sip of coffee. 

Im trying to concentrate so I dont nick myself again, Carlos said in a low warning. He ignored Berkfield and looked up as he resumed shaving and then briefly closed his eyes while he worked the razor over his Adams apple. Heaven be merciful, the motel incident was weeks ago. The memory was still white-hot in his mind. Just thinking about it was messing him up. 

Yeah, but the sound traveled, buddyto the point where the tactical guys, who are young and single, caught most of the fall-out. 

Wont happen again, obviously, youll see to that. Carlos began dragging the dry razor against his face in angry strokes and nicked himself again. Damn! 

I gotta be honest, not to bust your stones, or anything, Berkfield said calmly. Just an observation. However, you two practically brought the house down back at the motel, not that I dont understand young love and passioneven though its more like a distant memory for me, in my casenot to digress. But, speaking as a Dad with a hormonal, teenage daughter even if I did know you were in the bathroom this morning, I still probably wouldve knocked on the doorbecause if something ripples through the house like it did in the motel, in these close quarters and gets Krissys head all twisted up, and given that my daughter is already walking around here looking at J.L. with googly eyes 

I know, I know, I know, Carlos muttered, now staring at the house as he tried to continue shaving. 

Here, Berkfield said, handing Carlos a rumpled up, linty, half-used handkerchief from his robe pocket. You look like a cutter. Staunch that shit, man. Youre giving me the willies. 

Carlos grabbed the handkerchief that seemed more like a dirty rag and mopped where he was bleeding. 

You dont have to worry, man. Damali wont even go off-site with me after that. So squash the noise. Krissy wont hear anything she aint supposed to, Carlos finally muttered, still trying to figure out how to get to Damali alone. 

Good. Your word as your bond? Berkfield said, extending his hand. 

Aw man cmon, Carlos said, looking at Berkfields hand. 

Thats my daughter, shes underage, and she doesnt need to hear you two in the throes at her ageever again. Berkfield looked at him hard. I dont want Krissy getting any romantic ideas. 

Carlos begrudgingly transferred the razor to his left palm and shook Berkfields hand. Awight. Whateva. You dont have to worry. Besides, as it stands, Damali says with newbies in the house, and an ever-present threat, we have to be on twenty-four seven in case the house comes under siege. 

Berkfield chuckled and shook his head, and simply sipped his coffee when Carlos released his hand. Spoken like a true mother-of-the-house. Kids first, man second better get used to it, hombre. Thats how it goes once you have kids. When you become a dad, youll understand where Im coming from. 

You aint making me feel better, Carlos said, flipping the razor closed. 

But its the truth. Berkfield stooped down with a grunt and handed Carlos his mug. Peace. Drink your coffee. Can I tell you how many nights little feet ran down the hall, terrified from a nightmare? He raised an eyebrow like a huge elf and leaned in to whisper to Carlos. I know where youre at, buddy, and wont hold what happened in the motel against you. There were nights when I didnt even hear my own kids, Berkfield confided, edging closer to Carlos and glancing around. Its like women have this supersonic hearing or radar, screw special powers. I dont expect you to really get what Im talking about; its the kind of thing you have to personally experience before it completely sinks in. So, like I said, Im not casting aspersions, just asking you to be a little more discreet, should you find yourself in a situationand an echoing bathroom aint a good place for that to happen. Women can hear better than men. 

Carlos let out a heavy breath, wishing he could still vanish at will. What are you talking about, man? Cant nobody who aint a vamp or a werewolf hear better than Mike. If something did go down, Krissy wouldnt have 

Women know things and can hear, Berkfield insisted, dropping his voice and glancing around as though his wife might be eavesdropping from a hundred yards away. Id be in a situation, lets say and Marj would hear a kid wake up. Actually hear the little bugger from way down the hall. Berkfield stepped back. How the hell do they do that, I ask you? 

Carlos looked at Berkfield, then sent his gaze towards the house. 

Im not lying, Berkfield pressed on. And kids have got the worst freakin timing on the planet an anniversary, your wifes birthday; its like the little crumb-snatchers sense when youre trying to Berkfield glanced back to the house and then returned his line of vision to Carlos. I love my kids, dont get me wrong. But sheesh! Its like theyve claimed her body, cause they came from it, ya know? Like Im an invader to their territory. 

What? Carlos said, the concept making him indignant. It was beyond comprehension. Nobody laid claim to his womans body but him, and he definitely didnt appreciate an outsider blocking his shot. This you have got to break down for me, Berkfield, cause I think youre getting like Rider and spiking your morning coffee. Little kids invading your territory, thats just natural mother-love. Youd better grip up and 

Think about it, Berkfield said with a defeated shrug. He watched Carlos take a careful sip of coffee and then spoke slowly. Bobby and Krissy took over my wifes body for almost a year each, being in there and all, then it took like six weeks each birth for my wifetheir motherto heal, then they took over her boobs for another year while she fed em each, so thats two more years. Mind you, while her boobs were in their service, they looked fantastic, but I wasnt allowed near em. Then they took all her time and attention. Then, after all that, for years, theyd run down the hall in the middle of the night so help me Christ, there were nights when I was ready to go out to the local store to get a pack of cigarettes and never come back. 

Damn since you put it that way, Carlos said slurping his coffee, no sarcasm in his tone. I aint mad. 

Brother, lemme tell you, Berkfield said with a sigh. Me and Marj had em the moment we got married, cause we wanted a familycouldnt wait. But as much as I love my kids, hindsight being twenty-twenty, let this old boy give you some sound advice. Wait. Stay footloose and fancy free with your sweetheart for as long as you can. Work the kinks out, have some fun, party, go out as a couple, get to really know each other while youre just a twosome, even if you do get hitched, and then only then, ya hear me, go in for the life sentence. 

Life sentence? Carlos said in a reverent tone, studying Berkfields eyes to be sure he wasnt pulling his leg. Like, okay, eighteen to twenty years is 

Forever, Berkfield said flatly, squaring his shoulders. Eighteen to twenty is a myth, my man. Superstition. Lies. They never leave. He nodded as Carloss jaw went slack. Yep. And your wife will always worry herself sick about them. They can always call Mom in the middle of the night. Can always make your wife wring her hands. Can always get under her skin or make her stop whatever shes doing when she gets one of those weird, female, Mommy psychic, woman-hunches about something being wrong with one of em, even if your kids have moved halfway around the world! 

Berkfield began pacing, spilling coffee onto the grass as he gestured wildly with his hands, clearly distraught. Doesnt matter. Youre in it for life, buddy. Once theyre here, everything you once took for granted, like freedom to just lie in bed all day and all night with your wife in your arms, stops. Forget about romping through the house buck nakeda kid could put a key in the door at any time, dragging along half the school. And if they do, she will stop whatever shes doing to make cookies and brownies for them, will feed the masses as they raid your refrigerator and tell you that, its far better that they be in your house than somewhere unknown in the streets, that I swear to you. 

Oh, shit Carlos stared at Berkfield, thinking about how he and his brother and sister and friends had once overrun his mothers house. No matter what they asked, his mother was there. The image of her perpetually standing at the stove, in the kitchen, cleaning, working, bringing more food into the house to feed ravenous males made him shiver and take a deep sip from his mug. Then the way shed worry about them all forever. But until now, hed never really thought about his mother as a sexual beinghe couldnt. It wasnt done. She was La Madonna. 

Uhmmm hmmm, no win situation for us guys, Berkfield said, watching Carloss _expression as he paced. Scary, aint it? And you cant argue with female logic, eitherbecause, Heaven forbid, if something happens to one of your kids who were out in the street, its ball game. Over. And if theyre out there, theres no rest for the weary you have to be ready to get your gun at the drop of a hat, drive to find a kid in distress, ever the soldier on call to collect your wifes child, her baby, from the clutches of dangeryou think this Guardian bullshit is stressful aw, man, you wait, Rivera. So your wife, naturally, wont relax. Ever. Her ear is always tuned to who could be walking through the house. 

Berkfield stopped pacing and looked at Carlos hard. Oh, did I mention, when theyre toddlers, thats the easy part. Babies are the best, since theyre crib-bound. The little ones cant figure it out, dont get why Dad is breathing hard and walking in a circle and hollering when they bust into the bedroom, or why Mom looks like shes seen a ghost with the sheets yanked up to her chin. Little kids are clueless and doze back off to sleep with a drink of water and a lullabybut teenagers are like vampires, man. They know. 

Carlos tossed back a healthy slurp from his mug like it was a shot of Tequila. Berkfields gaze narrowed as he stared off in the distance toward the house and spoke through his teeth. 

They never sleep, Carlos, except during the damned day! All night long, the music, the phones are going, and your wife is like like stiff as a board if you try to touch her and then she pushes you off her, cause the kids might hear. Shit! Berkfield returned his hot glare to Carlos. And youre bellyaching about a missed opportunity in the john? Gimme a break. Its murder, what a married man with kids goes through. You just got a short-term sentence. Consider it a sample. Like you used to say, first hits on me. Youll live. 

Carlos opened his mouth and then closed it. He took a shaky sip of his coffee and then tried to laugh it off. Cmon, man. Be serious. Its 

You like the night, right? Berkfield said, tilting his head in a jaunty pose. 

Carlos laughed. Love it. 

Thunderstorms, lightening, cosmic drama romantic, right? 

Carlos laughed harder. Go head with that, Berkfield. Stop trippin. 

Oh, okay, stop tripping, the man says. Hmmm. Toddlers and thunderstorms mean a little person in the bed clinging to your wife and whimpering with a Teddy bear between you. Berkfield grinned as the smile slid from Carloss face. Not so funny is it? 

Walking in a circle now, Carlos raked his fingers through his hair. Damn 

Yep. And if you try to pry that baby barnacle away from her, your ass will be sleeping on the couch. 

Shit Carlos whispered, as the vision danced through his mind. 

Fucked up, aint it? 

Carlos stared at Berkfield. Very. 

Then youll hear all about how you aint sensitive, yada, yada, yada, and will be cut-off until shes done being offended by the fact that you had the gall and audacity to challenge your own flesh and bloods rights to her. Berkfield opened his arms again, slinging coffee, his eyes pained. Like, shell tell youhow could you, Richard? Then go on and on and on and on, about how this little interloper is just a baby. And, although you know shes making perfect sense and youre being illogical, you still wanna holler at her and tell her, just for one night, cant I have my wife back? But, the wise man keeps his mouth shut. This I have learned over the years and through many a battle, son. 

Man, how did we get on this fucked up subject? Carlos tossed out his coffee and began walking in an aimless pattern across the field. 

Berkfield hurried beside him. Reality check kills the morning wood, dont it? 

Completely, Carlos muttered. 

Glad to be of service. Figured it was the least I could do so you wouldnt suffer, Berkfield said smiling. 

Mission accomplished. 

Okay, guess I can go back inside and make breakfast, then. You look like you could use a minute or two alone to ponder your fate in broad daylight now that the passion haze has lifted. So, see ya. Buck up, a few months will fly by before you know it. Berkfield strolled away chuckling. 

Carlos didnt even turn around as Berkfield walked towards the house. A long solo walk down the dusty road was the only thing his nervous system could tolerate now. Sure, knowledge was power, but what hed just heard today was a real bitch. He didnt wanna know all that, truth be told. In fact, didnt need to know all that. Actually, hed been happier remaining pleasantly ignorant of everything Berkfield had said. 

Damn! Carlos shouted as he trudged along, kicking gravel. But forewarned was forearmed. If this was a precursor to family life 

Naw. He needed to stop trippin. There had to be more to the story than thisat least he hoped there was. But there was nothing in what Berkfield had said that seemed like a lie. Cold-blooded truth came out in the mans words. Problem was, even with that valuable insight, he still wanted to be with Damali in the worst way. With her, a little bit was better than none at all even if he would have to share her with family, kids, and even the world. He stopped walking after a few miles and looked back towards the house in despair. 

A few months? he whispered quietly, imagining the Arizona wind was laughing at him as it whistled by. 

There was no way in the world hed last like thatBerkfield was obviously a better man than him. This was a nightmare a travesty of cosmic justice. Damali being a few feet down the hallway smelling fantastic, right through the freakin walls. Wearing a tank top, no bra, and poured into her jeans like they were skin paint. A body that was made by the Master of Heaven. And he couldnt touch her? Then thered be kids one day, and the sentence would drag on for eternity? Oh shit 

Carlos shook his head, thinking about how she looked when the team worked out. Sweat making her skin glisten. Locks swinging. Gorgeous eyes burning with determination and filled with passion. That sassy walk one hand on her hip, wooden practice blade in the other, giving commands in a way that made his stomach clench just to hear her voice. Her singing on the front steps, breaking beans with Marlene and Nez sending old ballads through the house to torture his mind. Then when she sat still and closed her eyes, meditating under the shade of a tree like a mystical yogi, and the serenity that graced her beautiful face that same sated quality that overtook it like after theyd made real good love. Every time she got in the shower, his hands literally shook. This bullshit was gonna make him start drinking Jack Daniels in the porch with Rider. 

Ill never make it, Carlos said flatly, talking to himself and just shaking his head as he walked back toward the house. His coffee mug dangled loosely at his side in one hand with his razor held in a defeated grip in the other. Maybe he should have just nicked his jugular good and ended it all. I, Carlos Rivera, will never make it. Not like this. 
 
