The White Whispers Read online

  “And then ruin that dress, right?” Minaj snarled with a frown.

  Carren sighed, leaned her forehead against the refrigerator for a second before she turned to face her friend not looking very pleased.

  "You look damn hot in that dress by the way," Minaj said quickly before Carren said another word.

  Carren contracted her small lips, closed her eyes temporarily and exhaled.

  “Minaj,” Carren started to say in a determined tone trying hard to stay composed, but she lost it afterward out of frustration. “I’m not in the mood. I’m exhausted and need to get this over with before getting a good night rest after a long day,” she said breathlessly.

  Minaj got up to pour herself something to drink.

  “You should at least take that off first,” she pointed to the dress Carren was wearing. “Sammy has had dinner by the way,” Minaj added before picking up her drink and returning to the table.

  Carren’s eye widened with relieve. “He has?”

  Minaj Frowned “Jesus! What do you take me for? A nanny that don’t know the basic rules of babysitting?” she asked loudly.

  "I’m not a baby no more," Sammy said offhandedly from the living room where he sat reading a comic book.

  Neither of them noticed when he returned to the living room and were taken by surprise.

  Minaj placed one hand over her mouth and another over her chest quickly and gave Carren an apologetic stare. “Sorry…I didn’t know…" Minaj apologized in a stutter, pointing her thumb backward toward Sammy and returning to her chest. “Did I sound insulting?”

  Carren waved her off, trying to play down her guilty feeling but more grateful for the switch in conversation. “It’s fine,” she said trying to assure her she didn’t say anything too offensive.

  Carren stretched up a little and peered toward the living room at Sammy. "Baby, sorry about that…. oh, yes…right. You are not a baby anymore." Carren reminded herself, trying hard not to chuckle as she could see Minaj from the corner of her eye, suppressing a peal of laughter already.

  “We sorry about that Sammy. Honey, are we forgiven?"

  “Yea…I’m not mad," Sammy replied in a gentle tone without looking up from the comic book.

  "Thanks, honey," Carren said and turned to her friend. "You didn't have to go all fireworks and all over my question," Carren told Minaj in a low tone making a gesture of fireworks over her head. "I was just relieved to hear he'd had dinner. Thanks," she added in a friendly and tired tone before leaning against the sink table. She stared at her friend keenly, her eyes inspecting her again with a hint of suspicion.

  “What?” Minaj queried her curiously.

  “What’s with the chic dressing?” Carren asked.

  "Oh…this?" Minaj asked back, stared briefly at herself and looked back at Carren grinning wildly like a kid that won a prize. She apparently wanted Carren to notice her.

  “Yea that,” Carren replied with sarcasm. “So…?”

  She stood up, turned around slowly and posed, pushing her curvy right buns out a little with a pout sitting too comfortably on her lips.

  "You like it?" she asked excitedly looking hopeful for a pleasing reply from Carren that would spice her felling of self-satisfaction.

  Carren bowed her head momentarily, scoffed quietly before looking up to face her friend with a phony smile.

  She knew what Minaj wanted to hear, but she also had to admit that her Caribbean friend looked dashingly hot in her off-shoulder shiny turquoise pencil gown that hugged her curves tightly like they were being strangled and stopped way above her knee like it was scared to touch them. Still, she wore it so comfortably in an impressive way.

  Wherever she was headed, she was sure to spin enough heads the way she would love to be the center of attention, Carren thought.

  "You look super hot, I must admit," Carren replied, but Minaj was not satisfied with her response.

  “You don’t like?”

  “It doesn’t matter. You look very comfortable in it,” Carren replied directly before standing erect with the support of hands against the sink table

  “That’s not what I want to hear.”

  "You know me better," Carren said firmly before she went about getting herself some coffee.

  "Fine," Minaj said in a resigned tone.

  “Coffee?” she asked Minaj who declined politely, sat down back on the stool before taking out her phone from her.

  “So, how did the interview go?”

  “Which of them exactly?” Carren asked sounding edgy.

  "All of them," Minaj replied sharply.

  Carren turned slowly to face Minaj cradling her coffee cup.

  “So…”

  Carren looked down and shook her head slowly while caressing her coffee cup with her thump.

  “I-I don’t…I don’t want to talk about,” she said in a low and brittle voice.

  “At all?”

  "Not tonight please," Carren begged before she looked at her watch. It was Sammy’s bedtime.

  She sipped her coffee, dropped it on the table and started returning all the food she had brought out to prepare dinner earlier.

  Minaj observed her and noticed her eyes had withdrawn a little. They also lacked any spark like they used to despite the makeup her friend had applied on them. She looked frustrated.

  “You not giving up now, are you?” Minaj inquired carefully with a concerned voice, and when Carren looked up to meet her stare, she noticed little streams of tears rolling down her face and ruining her makeup. That moved her strongly.

  Since she had known Carren, she had known to be a quiet, strong and determined lady and she envied her composure greatly. In fact, she admired a lot about Carren except her financial issues.

  Since their friendship brewed, she was always the emotional one between the both of them even though she was more comfortable financially than her friend was. Every time she got herself in harm's way to being hurt by some guy in her many relationship escapades or felt like she failed a test terribly while she was studying to be a nurse, Carren had always been there to help her back up. And in all those years, she had never seen Carren this heartbroken other than when she lost her mother two years ago.

  “I… I don’t know Minaj. T-this is…This is…” Carren started to say, raising her hands to show her frustration but her voice collapsed. Her tears expressed the rest of her words, and she turned to look away from Minaj.

  “Hey…” Minaj stood up, went to her side. She put her hands on her shoulder and tried comforting her. "I can't say I know what you are going through, but honestly, I know you to be a strong woman. You've come a long way, don’t let what you are going through now break you already.” Minaj said, trying hard to encourage her friend. "I’m not good at this, even though I’m a nurse but you are a super woman, really and you shouldn’t give up now. I’m no clairvoyant, but I feel a break through coming soon. So cheer up, okay?" Minaj handed her a hanky and embraced her.

  “Thanks. But you don’t have to flatter me,” Carren said dabbing the hanky at her eyes. She sniffed in and inhaled Minaj’s aromatic perfume that smelled strong. "Gosh…don't let me ruin your beautiful dress," Carren said and released herself slowly from her embrace.

  "Fuck my beautiful dress," Minaj cursed, and Carren frowned at her shortly. "My bad," she said and looked over toward to check if Sammy heard her but noticed he was lying down on the rug with his face placed on the comic book. Carren followed her stare and saw the same thing, and in a second she walked swiftly over to where Sammy was lying down before Minaj turned back to say another word. "Uh, I think Sammy has doz…” Minaj started to say and looked back to discover Carren wasn’t in the kitchen anymore. “Okay…super woman got work to do now,” she muttered.

  Carren lifted Sammy gently from the floor. “Have a great party Minaj but don’t fall for some other heartbreaker,” she warned her friend as she carried Sammy against her shoulder and headed to his bedroom to tuck him into bed.

  “Who said
anything about a party?" Minaj queried, following right behind her.

  "With the way you are all dressed as a sexy diva? I don't have to guess twice, babe."

  “You think? What if it’s a date?” Minaj asked and got a quick laugh from Carren instead.

  Sammy moaned, and Carren apologized for discomforting him.

  “If it’s a date, you wouldn’t be here chatting.”

  “Yeah, right. I think I have overstayed my welcome,” Minaj said comically and leaned in to kiss Sammy’s forehead. “Love you boy,” she whispered and turned to Carren. "Don't worry about me falling for any dickhead, but I’m getting a one-night stand," she said in a very low undertone while simulating a caress from her bust down to her back curves.

  Carren shook her head while covering Sammy with his blanket.

  After she pecked his cheek, she switched off his light and closed his door.

  “Good luck with getting laid," Carren told Minaj in a mocking tone in the hallway as they headed back to the living room. “Just don’t forget you’re on duty tomorrow morning.” She reminded her.

  “Yea…yea. Night bitch. Love you!” Minaj kissed Carren, picked up her purse and exited the apartment.

  *****

  Johnson crashed to the floor, his head going down first and rolled over brutally on the ice as another teammate skater hit him from behind. He ended up toward one of the penalty boxes at the Barclays Center and lay there for some seconds with his eyes shut. His head was thumbing with serious pain, and his shoulders seemed to hurt despite the presence of the shoulder pad.

  His breathing was slowly becoming difficult, and his fingers were becoming numb while he heard commotion around him. Teammates had quickly rallied around him to check if he was fine even before the team’s medical team had gotten to him.

  One moment he seemed like he was not there, another moment he could hear the frantic conversation going on around him.

  “Kelvin? What the fuck man?” Johnson could hear his best friend, Nelson, a fellow teammate and defenseman for the New York Islanders, asked Kyle, another forward skater for the team like himself. "It's just a fucking practice. Wait until you’re drafted onto another team before you kill.” Nelson continued to chide Kyle. He wasn't sure if there was a shoving, but he could perceive the sudden rapid movement of ice skates around him, like some players were trying to settle a dispute.

  Someone was beginning to unscrew his helmet, probably the team’s physician because he could feel something like a soft glove touch his face. It felt smooth and soft like silk or linen, he wasn't sure but was different from a hockey glove.

  “I didn’t mean to shove him that hard…” He could hear Kyle defending himself aggressively.

  Why shove him at all?” Nelson snapped back. “You just don’t know when to quit your violent rivalry do you?”

  The voices were beginning to sound distant as he faded away slowly toward a blinding light.

  "Johnson, can you hear me? Johnson!" someone asked him…or not, but it sounded like a blurred repeating echo.

  “Guys, calm down… stop acting up and taking it all personal. I-I-I-I…”

  Silence suddenly descended like hailstone around him and shut everything and everyone out except the light that embraced and rocked him in his free fall.

  After several minutes of being unconscious, Johnson was resuscitated back to life at the hospital. He was sitting on the hospital bed and worriedly brooding over the outcome of his head and shoulder scan.

  He knew the doctors would always have something to say, but he didn’t want to hear anything that would prevent him from playing in the final games of the Eastern Conference and the next round of the Stanley Cup playoff. Just one more step to the final and if they won. Johnson imagined the kind of ovation his team will receive if they successfully defended the Stanley Cup after he had helped them to win it the previous year when Nelson walked in and interrupted his day dream.

  Nelson closed his room door gently and turned to face with a grin flirting around his lips, the way that it revealed the scar under his chin.

  “Why you standing there and grinning like a kid for?”

  “Because you back to life man. I don’t know about others, but you fucking scared me to hell,” Nelson replied with so much excitement and energy. He walked up to the bed and shook Johnson.

  “Just chill man. Let the result be out first,” Johnson said calmly and looked toward the flat screen. Calm as he tried to be, he was gravely worried and nervous, too, and Nelson could perceive it.

  The last time he was in the position was at the moment after he sustained a serious and life-threatening injury. His career was already fell down into its lowest depths, but it resuscitated somehow.

  Nelson watched the boring channel showing on the TV for a while and looked back at his teammate and best friend.

  “Hey, I know you are worried, we all are…well them…not me," he said comically and used gestures to demonstrate his words. "But look on the bright side, you survived worse, and this ain't shit. So cheer up, all right?" he added and playfully tapped Johnson's leg.

  “Thought you said I scared you to hell? Good thing you came back though because I would have denied I had anything to do with that,” Johnson teased. “So, which do I believe now? Your motivational sermon or your lamentation?” Johnson asked sarcastically.

  Nelson pursed his lips and then smiled. “I said I was scared to hell. But walking in and hearing and seeing you…Like this," he pointed at Johnson, “I’m at peace.”

  “Hmm mmm," Johnson said sounding doubtful.

  "I'm serious man."

  Johnson scoffed, “I don’t dispute that. But I still want to see my results and feel more comfortable.”

  "Yeah, me, too," Nelson mumbled while walking around to take a seat. He settled his towering physique into the leather seat and started brooding, tapping his foot against the tiled floor.

  “What?” Johnson asked sensing his friend’s uneasiness.

  "It's about time you did something about that son-of-a-bitch," Nelson answered strongly, fixing his jaws.

  “Who?”

  “What do you mean who?” Nelson raised his voice. “Kyle of course.”

  Johnson smiled sinisterly.

  “You don’t spill blood in a pool full of sharks.”

  Nelson gritted his teeth. "Really? You look pretty much bitten by a shark already if you ask me."

  “It was just an accident,” Johnson tried to calm his friend down in a composed tone. He understood why he was mad. Since his return to form and his scoring had surged, the club had seen a dramatic increase in finances, fan base and rise in position in the Metropolitan Division and Eastern Conference. But that was not all, his success attracted more sponsorships and earnings for him, and he had become the highest earning player on the team since its inception in 1972 with over seven million dollars a year—overtaking Kyle Clinton as a result.

  Nelson huffed beat his palm against his forehead. “Everyone…” he gritted his teeth again. “Every fucking person on the team can see…”

  Johnson tried to calm him still. He tried interrupting him. “I get you but…”

  “…how that Kyle is doing everything possible to get you side-lined by all means.”

  “…if I get all aggressive like he is, it will do the team no good.”

  “Everyone…except you.”

  The both of them talked at the same time.

  “I’m just doing my best not to split the team apart, but I’m not stupid.”

  “I hope not.”

  “I understand your rage, but let’s wait until this season is over, all right?”

  Nelson stared at his friend for some seconds. He tried as much to believe Johnson knew what he was doing.

  “Fine,” he said in a resigned tone and reclined on the seat. “Just don’t get yourself killed playing pacifier.”

  "Yes, sir. Now watch some TV please," he begged, but Nelson took out his phone instead.

  After a whil
e, Johnson gently massaged his shoulders. He didn’t feel any pain and then tried to massage even more. Still no pain.

  "I don't feel pain in my right shoulder," Johnson said.

  “Told ya.”

  “I knew you would say that. But I hope it’s a good sign like you said.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” Nelson agreed without looking up from his phone.

  “How long was I out for?” Johnson asked suddenly after over two minutes had passed.

  Nelson looked up from the phone he was typing on and eyed him quizzically.

  He looked at his watch and looked up. “Like three hours or something…I’m not sure now. But you should have asked the doc or the sexy nurse who was helping him out.”

  “Sexy nurse?”

  “Wait…tell me you weren’t asleep the whole time not to catch a glimpse of that chick?”

  Johnson adjusted in the bed and threw his friend a scornful stare. "Your taste must be terrible. She doesn't look it to me."

  "Oh, yeah? And somehow you ended up with Anastasia,” Nelson scoffed at Johnson and waited for his angry glare or response, but Johnson looked down and away like he was embarrassed.

  “I hit a nerve there, right?” Nelson poked him still, hoping he would open up to him on his recent breakup that had gotten the media talking some months back but rather than talk about it, Johnson holed up.

  "I don't want to talk about her man," Johnson replied flatly in a low tone while pretending to be watching the TV. His mood was stirred.

  The mention of his ex brought back memories Johnson preferred not to remember. He still hadn't told anyone his side of the story about his breakup with Anastasia, not even to his best friend. He truly loved her, and everyone around him was well aware of it. So much so that he was willing to forgive her and give her a second chance to redeem herself even after she hurt him so bad. But she had taken advantage of the media's spotlight on their relationship issues and said more than she should have on what was going on between them.

  Most of what she said was false, but she didn't stop there. She painted a wrong picture of so many personal issues of himself that he had tried to protect himself from the prying eyes of the media. Still, he did not attempt to counter her statements despite the pressure from various top media sides until they got bored and backed off seeing he was going to be a hard nut to crack.