Today I was on the phone with a new friend of mine as he told me about some problems he had at his job. I asked about the location and he told me that it was a Home Depot that is located near my former apartment. I immediately asked him about Musa (pronounced Moos-a), a friend of mine from way back when, that I'd adored.
Actually, I more than adored Musa. I saw him as the man that I would and should be with if the planets aligned properly. He was tall, good looking, mannerly, personable, and he had a smile that could brighten my darkest days. I got to know him as I lived in the area. I had a routine hobby of painting my apartment.
I hadn't seen him in years, but about a year ago, I went into the Home Depot where I saw him. I immediately melted when I saw that bright white smile. We caught up since I'd had my son. He told me that he'd divorced his previous wife because she was "too in the world" and had since gotten a wife that was much more his speed. I told him that I was glad that he'd found happiness, but a small part of me was sad that I'd again missed the chance to see where things could go with him.
The last time I was in that Home Depot, unfortunately Musa wasn't there. I got my paint and went about my way. That was sometime in February. I was glad that my friend worked there and I was ready to pick his brain about the man I'd forever remember as an incredible person. What my friend said shocked me. Apparently Musa is currently in jail. Not just for something small. He was accused of jumping into a woman's car and holding a knife to her neck, and ordered her to drive. She didn't and some people came to her aid and he ran away.
I immediately told my friend "I don't believe it." I'm no dummy when it comes to how many Blacks happen to "look alike" and end up in prison for crimes they didn't commit. I shook my head while on the phone and said that I could and would not believe that it was Musa. It simply had to be someone else. Musa wouldn't do such a thing. He was too calm. Too patient. He damn near carried a halo. This is the same man that wouldn't even come to my apartment to see the painting because an unmarried man and woman shouldn't be alone together. I know my Musa, and it couldn't be him.
My friend told me to look up Musa Muhammad and Hobby Lobby. I clicked on the first link I found.
The first thing I noticed were his eyes. Those weren't the eyes of Musa. Sure, it was undeniably his face. But his eyes were bare. Those weren't the same eyes that I talked to at length. They weren't the same eyes that encouraged me to work things out with my son's father. They weren't the same eyes that smiled at me and greeted me as I painted my apartment wall for the fourth time. That couldn't be my Musa.
Then I noticed his smile. I mean with serious allegations like that, who the hell smiles? Even his smile was blank and even sinister. Again, this wasn't my friend. Then I clicked on the video link.
I couldn't believe it. One of the good Samaritans chased him down and held him until police arrived. Oh. My. God. How did this happen? The therapist in me looked for answers. Maybe he was bipolar or schizophrenic. I'm not sure. They said he also had a violent past. The eerie part is that he had rubber gloves and several zip ties on him. Musa planned to do some serious damage. The size of the butcher knife was insane. How could my Musa do this? Actually, my Musa didn't but that Musa did. It was so strange to hear the reporter refer to him as "the guy" as if he's just some random dude. But I guess, to the people that matter at this point, he really is just "that guy."
I'm so exceptionally grateful that the woman and her grandchild were okay. Although, in my line of work, I know that she'll probably have nightmares about what-could-have-been for the rest of her life.
I'd like to reach out to Musa. I'm damned sure not going to try to marry the dude or anything, but I need to look in his eyes just one more time. I'd like to visit him if he'll let me. There was a psychotic break. Don't get me wrong, he should not have did what he did and he damn sure needs to be locked away. But something inside of me needs to know that my Musa is still somewhere in there. Damn, Musa. Damn.