I. Immortal

“I don’t know what other way to explain all this to you Doctor.”
He kept his eyes down as he jotted scribble upon his notepad. I questioned whether he truly was listening. After six psychiatrists and a four-month bout at a mental institution trapped in a small white room hugging myself in a straight jacket, he’d better be listening.

“I mean, the more I try to re-explain myself to everyone, I find myself losing my grip with reality.” I swallowed a large lump that formed in the middle of my throat. “What do you make of all this?”

He finished the last of his notes and looked up at me. His left index finger tapped his bottom lip as he struggled to respond. He couldn’t stay quiet. He had to make use of his doctoral degree boastfully hanging on the wall behind him. He took a deep breath. “What do you make of all this?” he asked.

I chuckled. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t even care. With all the media buzz around me, he just wanted the opportunity to sit with me. Is what everyone’s been saying true? Does she honestly believe that she’s discovered liquid gold; Ponce de Leon’s very own “fountain of youth.”

“What do you think you’re saying?” he asked.

“I thought that’s what I came to you to figure out,” I said, “Isn’t this your cue to start chiming in here?”

“I want to fully understand the scope of all this.”

“Isn’t that why I came to you? So you could tell me?”

He sat quietly. I asked a good question. All that left room for was a good answer. He pressed his index fingers together and stared blankly at me. He tried to determine the best way to approach all this without sounding like a moron. He wanted to help. He wanted me to confide in him so that he could be the guy that gets through to me. He yearned to be the person that can honestly say, “Hey, I figured her all out.” Truthfully, I wanted him to be that person too. It’d be nice to have someone else rummaging through my brain. I’d be grateful. He smiled.

“How about we start at the beginning.”

Good Christian Girls

I woke up to the harsh feeling of ice-cold water thrown in my face. I look up and noticed mama standing over me. I glanced at the clock beside me; 4:45AM. I remained silent. I didn’t know my transgression but I wouldn’t dare refute its existence.

“I got a call from your school today.”

I laid back in my wet sheets and braced myself. I thought Mrs. Bryan got the hint. Mama grabbed the fabric of my pajamas and pulled me to her face.

“What did I tell you,” she barked. My heartbeat quickened. How do I answer a question that isn’t meant to be answered. I open my mouth to let out the fear that welled up in my throat. Mama slapped it back inside me.
I held my face and screeched, “I’m sorry mama.”

“Yea you better be sorry. I got yo damn school calling the hospital for me while I’m making my rounds ‘cause yo fast ass wasn’t in school today.”
I hesitate at first then bite, “What?” I asked. Mama slapped the other side of my face.

“You heard what I said. I dropped yo’ lil narrow ass in the front of that school at 7:55AM, so it damn sho’ wasn’t my fault. So that means, that instead of sitting yo’ butt in class you should’ve, yo’ fast ass prolly ran off after I drove off so you can be with one of those dirty street boys.”

I was confused and delirious. Waking up in the middle of the night with ice-cold water in your panties can make the world pretty fuzzy. “But I was at school mama.”

Mama closed her fist and caught the side of my jaw. “You think I’m stupid? So yo’ school is the ones lyin’ to me then huh?”
I dropped my shoulders as I thought back to the previous morning. I remember walking into class and then Mrs. Bryan taking my arm and leading me into the teacher’s lounge so she could discuss my introverted behavior. Another teacher took role, she must’ve forgotten to mark me as present.

“I was at school mama. It’s just, Mrs. Bryan wanted to talk to me and—

“What did she want to talk to you about,” mama dropped the tone of her voice and pulled my face to hers. “What did you tell her?”

I swallowed the blood that filled my cheeks. “She…she just wanted to know why I been so quiet.”

Mama let my face go and stood there watching me. She placed her hands on her hips and tapped her foot. “You think I’m a bad mama?” Trick question. “Let the state come in here and put in the system.” She snickered wickedly, “You’ll realize how nice you had it after you end up in one of those ratty ol’ foster homes. Is that what you want?”

Anything has to be better than here. She dropped one hand from her hip and twisted her mouth.

“Answer me,” she demanded.

I quickly shook my head. She smiled.

“I know you don’t.” she took a deep breath, “what did you tell that—

“I didn’t tell her anything mama, I swear.”

She slapped her ring finger in the corner of my eye. “Don’t swear, either by heaven or by earth. Let yo’ yes be yes an’ yo’ no be no so you don’t fall under condemnation.”

With that, she turned on her heel and let me wallow in my offenses. It was colder than usual tonight. Mama must’ve turned on the AC and put it below 50 degrees right before walking in here. The sting of the cold water would hurt more that way.

As I Wait

Simone’s life was simple. She was simply a 34-year old real estate broker. She lived in a modest one story two bed/one bath home; she parked her car on the street since she didn’t own a two-car garage. She drove a 2001 Honda Accord with tinted windows, plain, factory accustomed hubcaps, and automatic locks. However, the most important factor to note in her description is that she is a woman. A woman with needs. A woman with yearns. A woman with the hope of finding that man who can make her mind wander while at work. A man who tells her that she doesn’t need to work because he can take care of her, but she still works because she needs to show him that she is an independent woman—but the simple gesture is enough to make her heart slide down her right leg and hit the floor. Yes, Simone was a woman who, like every woman, was looking for a man to please her.

She waited there. She waited there as her close friend walked away from her loneliness and into a better future. She waited as the initially warm breeze quickly turned into harsh and quick swooshes across her skin. Simone wrapped her arms around her waist and closed her eyes. She waited.

“Are you cold?”

Simone squeezed her eyes tighter hoping the deep voice that she imagined would come back if she wished hard enough. Her body jerked when she felt a soft palm on the small of her back. She opened her eyes.

“Are you cold, Miss?”

Simone turned her head and locked eyes with a Greek God, or so it appeared. His body stood tall and strong. His finely tailored Italian suit accented his broad shoulders and muscular arms. And his eyes…his eyes were like small portals into what women dreamt about. It was almost as if his eyes held the meaning of why women go through what they go through with all men.

Simone sighed, and then smiled. The gentleman smiled back.

Simone uttered, “I don’t know where all this cold came from.”

He chuckled. “I guess I’m the only one who watches the weather channel.”

Simone chuckled too. His smile; his smile was reminiscent of the gateways to heaven.

“I guess so,” said Simone.

“You can have my jacket if you want. I can even walk you to your car if you like.”

“I’m not parked too far from here.” Simone pointed ahead of them. “See, there’s my car right there.”

The stranger frowned.

He asked, “So, you don’t want me to walk you to your car?”

“Of course I do,” Simone thought. “I guess I’m trying not to be a bother,” she said.

“Oh it’s no bother at all.”

“I mean I don’t even know your name.”

“Kaiser.”

“That’s an interesting name. It sounds familiar.”

He smiled. “You’re probably thinking about the rolls.”

Simone giggled. “Oh yeah. I knew I heard that name from somewhere. Did your mother know she was naming you after bread?”

He laughed. “You’ve hurt my feelings now. No, I doubt she knew she was naming me after some rolls. The name Kaiser actually means “Leader.” Not many people know that part.”

“I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. How often do you get this reaction when you tell people your name?”

“Quite often. But since you’ve hurt my feelings, I think it’s only fair that you allow me to walk you to your car.”

“It’s only fair,” Simone tried to hide the fact that she was blushing.

“Do you want my jacket?” Kaiser asked as he slowly took off his jacket. Simone was too enthralled by his physique to have noticed his question, not to mention the cold air warmed up after their pleasant conversation.

When Simone noticed him handing her his jacket she snapped out of her trance and smiled. She wasn’t as cold as she was before but being wrapped up in his jacket was as close to being wrapped up in his arms as she could get. They walked, slowly.

“Here we are.” Simone stated.

“I like Hondas. I told my sister to get one.”

“Did she?”

“No, she got a Bentley instead.”

“Wow, that’s a big difference.”

He chortled. “I know. She’s eighteen. She just graduated from high school and rather than being practical like I was when I was her age, she wants to be a teen superstar.”

“Well, why buy a burger when you know you can get a steak.”

Kaiser smiled. “Touché.”

Simone paused. Then she asked. “How do you know the bridal party? I thought I knew all of Joanne’s friends.”

“Actually I don’t. I was just leaving my office from across the street and I noticed you shivering so I wanted to prove that chivalry wasn’t dead.”

Simone tried to contain her delight. “You noticed me from across the street,” she thought to herself. “Oh well, thank you for that. I appreciate it,” she said.

“I’m glad you did…you know you never told me your name.”

“Simone.”

“I like that. Unfortunately, for me, I can’t make a joke about a name as nice as that. I guess you’re lucky.”

“I guess.”

Kaiser smiled. Simone blushed. There was a brief silence. Then, Kaiser looked at his watch and then back behind him.

“Well it’s getting late and I should get back to my car.” He didn’t want to leave her but he did have other obligations.

Simone frowned. “Oh, ok. Well, thank you for walking me to my car.” Simone handed him his jacket and unlocked her car door.

“I hope this doesn’t have to end like this.” Kaiser quickly said, hoping not to lose a woman as attractive as Simone was.

“It doesn’t.”

Simone got into her car and rolled down her window. Then she pulled a business card from her pocket book and handed it to him.

“Here.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

New Posts

I have tons of excerpts to post but it would mean tons of reading. I don't want to overwhelm anyone who visits so my frequency in posting may hinge on the traffic I receive. I've noticed that some people will stop reading if it looks like too much at one time. I want to give people the ability to catch up. So, get to reading!

Black Caesar

Shit’s getting’ to me. What the fuck am I doing? They say if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life. They lied. I feel like I’m working everyday. I remember when I first met my man Rondo. I always knew ‘bout ‘em. He was like the ghetto godfather. He made the game look easy. When I was discharged, I had no work, no prospects, no fucking future. Jimmy kept tellin’ me that Rondo could get me some work. “He can set us up,” my brother said. Jimmy and Blue had been slingin’ chronic for Rondo for a while before I actually met him. Jimmy said that Rondo saw the potential in the three of us and knew we could turn his highest profit. Man, if it got me off these streets, put food in my baby’s stomach, gave me somethin’ to live for, it couldn’t hurt.

Then when I met him, I realized he had somethin’ else in store for me. “I’m trynna get out,” he told me. He was looking fa his replacement. He had been fooled by the bright lights, easy buckets, and obliging women. At first, it was like drug dealing was in his DNA. He had a sixth sense for sniffing out narks and undercovers. Slingin’ was all too easy to come by. Then he told me how the shit turns on you. One day you’re on top of the world, then the next day you keep checking to see if the world’s the one tappin’ on your window at night. You lose sleep over this game. Paranoia becomes your new sixth sense. Being a foot soldier is nothing. My brothers don’t know how easy they got it. Jimmy wanna be a boss so bad. I’m just trynna protect him; this business would eat him alive. One thing that Rondo told me that stuck heavy with me was when he said, “The longer you stay in it, the faster it tears through you. Yo soul starts to bleed out in yo sleep and ain’t nuttin’ you can do ‘bout it but get a rag in the morning to clean up the evidence.”

My girl got pregnant when I was in the army. When I got out, my daughter Sabrina was one. She was almost four by the time I became in charge of everything. Still too young to understand how daddy was making a living for her and her mama. She just knew that daddy and Uncle Rondo kept the lights on and the water running. My girl Audrey wasn’t too young though. In the beginning, she was apprehensive. She saw what the drug game could do to people. But when the money started rollin’ in, she was cool. Never in her life did she think she’d be rockin’ a mink in the ghetto winter. I was puttin’ diamonds in my baby girl’s ears. My grandmamma ain’t have to work to support her kids’ kids. Still, my soul was bleeding in my sleep, and I was running outta rags to clean it up wit.

Random: Another Day for Tina

To kick off my birthday month, I've decided to write a piece about that random article of clothing that you see when driving down the road. Every time I see that random shoe, button-down shirt, or ripped jeans lying on the side of the road, I always wonder what the story is behind it all. Hence, for all those curious minds out there, I'm here to give the story behind that random closet piece lying on the side of the road.

Tina's day was long. She'd awake in the morning at 5am, eat breakfast, make an hour long commute to work a ten hour work day, head home an hour later, cook dinner for her four kids and stoic husband, clean up then go to bed to wake up and do it all again.

This day, Tina awoke at 5:30am. She forcefully opened her eyelids and wiped the dried up sleep around her mouth. Her inexplicably warm and comfortable bed sheets made a failed attempt at tempting her to stay for another half hour; caress the snooze button like it meant to be caressed. She refused. She grudgingly dragged herself to her bathroom to wash her face. The tired out, sullen woman that stared back at her in the mirror appeared foreign to her. Nevertheless, she combed her hair back, half-heartedly brushed her teeth, then slipped into a simple work dress.
When she opened her refrigerator door, her head dropped as the empty egg containers and two strips of bacon haughtily greeted her. This morning would have to be a dry cereal and buttered toast day. She fixed six plates around the breakfast table and waited for her family to stroll in. As if the sun simply awaited their arrival, her kitchen lit up with the appearance of her three boys, blossoming daughter, and her working husband. They filed in and took their seats around their meals.

"Good morning, all." Tina said.

They all greeted her with quiet groans and lazy nods. Her children eyed their questionable breakfasts and sighed.

"Where's the food?" asked her youngest son. Her older sons eyed the youngest, silently wondering how he'd have the gull to question their mother so early in the morning. Still, they turned their heads to Tina with eyes that asked the same question.

"I forgot to go grocery shopping," she responded. Her daughter rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

Her husband sucked his teeth and pushed his plate away. "Are you serious?" he asked. "I have a meeting today. How am I supposed to remain focused with nothing to fuel my jets?"

"I have coffee on the pot."

Tina's husband stared her down and opened his mouth to respond to her weak attempt at pacifying his hunger. "We're gonna head to school early," interrupted her eldest son. "We can grab something extra to eat there." Her children gladly pushed their plates away and escaped the awkward moment shared between two over-worked, underappreciated parents.

Tina nodded and smiled, slightly. "Have fun at school," she said. They all nodded as they rushed out the door in pursuit of their bus stop. Tina gazed at her dry corn flakes and buttery wheat and then back up at her husband. He never took his eyes off her. In the beginning, he couldn't stop staring because her beauty captivated him. She was a walking personification of beauty and all he could do was stare. Now, he glared at the broken woman she's become. Forgetful, senile, unattractive, and weak.

He took a deep breath then stood up from the table. He grabbed a mug from the cabinet behind Tina and poured himself a gulp of coffee. No sugar, no cream, just a hard swallow of brewed coffee beans. After taking a glance out the window and watching the sun cascade over his freshly cut lawn, he placed his coffee mug on the stove and licked his lips. "I'm leaving you," he said. He waited for her to comment, she sat silently without turning to face him. "I've been seeing another woman and I've finally garnered the courage to leave this marriage and start a real life with the woman I truly desire to be with." Tina pushed her plate of food away. Suddenly, she had lost her will to eat dry cereal and toast that morning as well. Her husband continued, "I don't want to drag this out. The sooner we end this, the sooner I can get on with my life." He sighed when he noticed his wife shaking. He grabbed his keys from atop the kitchen table and headed for the door. Before walking out he offered a few words of encouragement, "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find someone desperate enough to love you back." Without another word, he dipped out of their quaint home and drove away from her misery.

On her commute to work, Tina drove slower than usual. No rush to get to a job she loathed. Yes, she had to be careful not to lose her job with the lack of income her husband once provided. Still, she had good reason. Her hands shook as she gripped her steering wheel. Soon she'd be approaching the bridge that separated her from her employer's parking lot. She contemplated taking the long way. Bypassing the bridge and utilizing the back roads to reach her job. However, traffic was tight and she couldn't find the logic in cutting through five lanes of traffic.

The radio was off. No need to hear the rushed murmurs of the narcissistic djs who loved the sounds of their voices. She rolled the windows down to let the cool breeze hit her face. Soon, the pure aroma of the ocean tapped her nostrils. She smirked. She loved how the son peaked over the horizon and waved hello to her. The passive presence of the cars around her signaled to the uselessness of a husband who didn't love her anymore. The absent frown lines on her face suggested that she was still beautiful. Love would only be around the corner. She unlocked her doors and unbuckled her seat belt. Upon cutting through two lanes, she found herself peaking over the edge to watch the gentle waves beat against the bridge’s walls. She slowed down a little more and smiled. The first real smile she's had in years.

Tina removed her sweater as the cool breeze turned into a warm mist. She studied the fine detail of the sweater in her arms while stopped in traffic. Extravagant knit work, unique embroidery, and soft feel. Her husband had great taste. She wore that same sweater every day since he gave it to her for their twentieth wedding anniversary. She shook her head as she couldn't help but chuckle. She should've known those late nights weren't spent working over piles of paperwork. She squeezed the cotton blend in her hands then threw it out the window.

She sat there for a moment gripping the steering wheel, smiling. Then, Tina stepped on the brakes and rammed the car in front of her. Upon doing that she made enough room for her to reverse and crash through the edge of the bridge propelling her over the wall that stood between her and real freedom. Tina took a deep breath and laughed at how she forget to set her alarm the night before. She couldn't help but think how her day would've ended if she had awaken at 5am instead of 5:30.