Nobody

by Tiana Laveen

  Jamaica, another friend, sat with her eyes glued to her phone, looking bored now that one of her favorite dance jams had played. She was a caramel-colored girl with reddish brown braids that draped to the bottom of her big ass. She had hazel eyes and a tiny nose, like a child’s. Her waist was always snatched, her being the type of heffa who drank spinach and banana smoothies. She went to yoga class and popped her coochie as she flirted with the instructor, worked out five times a week in the gym, steamed her pussy in those silly feminist pots while reading magazines on Black female empowerment, lit overpriced incense and soy candles, got on that Keto diet shit, travelled to Europe once every couple of years by her damn self, and got pedicures every two damn weeks.

  Her body was the envy of many, and so was her relaxed lifestyle. Ironically, she worked mostly temp jobs, stating she never wished to be tied down to any one place, but men always seemed to pay her rent and car note as if they were a ‘forever’ thing. She never said no, especially when money got tight. Jessica had met her when she’d moved in her subdivision, only two houses away. The previous owner had put their house up for rent and Jamaica moved in. The two became fast friends.

  Next to Jamaica sat Alicia, who was taking slow sips from her glass of red wine. Tonight, she wore a dark green jumpsuit with black mesh sleeves, coupled with a pair of three-inch black heels. She’d met the lady at her mother’s church five years prior. Like Jessica, Alicia wasn’t a regular church goer, but it had been Easter and her children wanted to partake in the large egg hunt held after service. They’d talked while serving the children some snacks and hit it off.

  Alicia was a true blue sista, a friend everyone would love to have. But the truth was, she also happened to be a mean ass woman with a forked tongue and an angelic face. Standing six foot one and built like a Coca Cola bottle, she had no problem getting men’s attention, especially with her big pretty eyes, salacious tattoos of cherries on her ample, perky cleavage, and smooth dark cinnamon complexion. Alicia was independent and hardworking, just like Jessica, a school teacher who also taught during the summers, but she had three ex-husbands under her belt. She also had two bad ass twin boys from the second marriage to a man who used to be some big-time dope dealer back in the day. As a result, she walked around with a snarl and two axes to grind. Her motto was, ‘Men ain’t shit.’ And she meant every damn word.

  “Oh, shit! Here they come!” Melissa piped up, pointing to a group of no good sons of bitches vying to line up their one night stands for the evening. It was four men, all of them sporting varying shapes and sizes. One of them was the one that Melissa had sworn up and down had been eyeing her. She had seen him glance her way a time or two.

  “Hi, ladies,” a tall lanky one with deep tan skin, silky black hair and huge buck teeth stated. “You all having fun tonight?” He wore a tan suit jacket that was far too big, making him look like he was being swallowed by a mountain of fabric. Jessica grunted and turned away for a spell.

  “What the hell do you want?” Alicia spat, her eyebrow raised. “You ain’t gettin’ no pussy, nigga… Hoppin’ over this way like Bugs Bunny with them big poster board sized teeth of yours. You may as well hop yo’ little ass on back to the other side of the club.”

  “Damn! What’s your problem, girl?” He grinned but looked a wee bit surprised, maybe even frazzled.

  “I am sick and tired of the fact that every time we come in here, a bunch of mothafuckas just like y’all try to hit on every lady in the club until you find one that’ll agree to fuck for free. You ain’t even cute and from the looks of things, you broke, too.” She gave him the once over. “You look like a crack head rabbit. Drugs Bunny is a better fit! Got teeth that would cut through sheet metal in one bite. When you give head to a chick, she end up a quadriplegic.”

  The women burst out laughing as Alicia had a go at him.

  “Oh, you got jokes, huh? You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not here for you anyway, old ass skank with that matted up, stankin’ ass wig. Them cherries on your tit look more like two long green legs jammed in a pair of big round red shoes… titties long like the lines at Popeye’s for that fuckin’ sandwich… Breast meat.” He snorted, his boys chuckling.

  “And you still wish you could suck on ’em, Bucky. Better go find some crack rock sprinkled carrots to chomp on, Thumper. Ain’t none over here.”

  The laughter was now competing with the music and Jessica felt a flush of heat come over her as the tension grew.

  “Oh, I see. You’re the bitter one, the cock blocker. Look, baby, this rabbit happens to be able to afford carats, real ones, not the vegetable… unlike that necklace ’round your neck turning the skin green.”

  “The only thing green ’round here, Halloween bunny—you ain’t fit to be around here for Easter—is yo’ nasty, diseased, rotten ass little macaroni elbow noddle dick that some dumb ass floosy was probably suckin’ on last night. You ain’t even have to go to a hotel. She took care of it while you both was locked up in ya little pet cage in some child’s room for Show and Tell.”

  The laughter was now so deafening, others were looking, trying to see what all the commotion was about. “Get on away from us!” she went on. “I ain’t got no pellets for you to eat, but I got some ass for you to kiss and your name, Buster Baxter, is written all over it!”

  The man rolled his eyes as everyone joined in the fun, including his own friends. Alicia was no stranger to unleashing her notorious brand of viciousness. Even Jessica lowered her gaze a time or two, trying to stifle a laugh.

  “Ladies.” The man turned away from Alicia and clasped his hands together. “I’m going to ignore this obviously miserable woman, and introduce myself and my friends. My name is Pierre. This right here is Robin,” He pointed to a medium brown man with a broad head sporting a nice black shirt and pants.

  “Naw! Your name is Peter! Peter Cottontail!” Alicia interrupted, causing more ruckus, but the guy continued, ignoring her.

  “Robin is my cousin, in town for a while. He’s from Tennessee originally.” The man gave a little salute of sorts with one hand while he held his drink with the other. “This over here is Tyrone, and—”

  “Caaaaall him!” Melissa sang, trying to sound like Erykah Badu. Everyone burst out laughing with the exception of Alicia. “Heeey, Tyrone,” Melissa flirted. It was obvious she thought he was fine.

  “Hey.” He winked, smiling wide, showing even rows of nice teeth. One had a gold crown. “How you doin’?”

  “I’m fine, baby. Thanks for asking.”

  “You damn right you’re fine.” He winked again.

  “And back here is Brian.” Jessica’s heartbeat picked up pace. This was the one who’d been staring at her, the one she’d seen when they’d first walked in. He had deep dimples, a clean-shaven face, and dark skin… but a few shades lighter than her own. His black 360 waves caught her attention, and he had the plushiest lips she’d ever seen.

  “Hi, Brian.” She gave a little wave, pushing herself out there a bit. Perhaps Melissa was right. Maybe she needed to show a bit more interest in guys, and that would help in the long run.

  “Hey.” He waved back, a crooked smile on his face. Jessica took a sip of her Mojito and contemplated the rapid lackluster exchange. He looked and sounded friendly enough. The conversation continued for a couple of minutes and before long, drinks were purchased and soon, they were all on the dancefloor, with the exception of Alicia who was now furiously texting someone from her seat at the table.

  They laughed and smiled on, moving their hips and snapping their fingers to the beat of Gucci Mane’s ‘Big Booty,’ feat. Megan Thee Stallion. Jessica wasn’t into the new music as much as the older vibe, but she’d get with anything to burn some steam off the stress of the long week. After a couple of heart pounding vigorous dances, Brian slipped closer to her and invaded her personal space.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he whispered in her ear, “Let’s get outta here baby, go back to my place.”

 
She chuckled and shook her head. “I’d like to get to know you a bit better first.”

  He smiled real slick like. “Well, shiiiiit, we been dancing, bought you another drink. What else you need to know?” He threw up his hands.

  “Uh, your full name for starters, what you like to do, where you work, things like that. That takes time.”

  “My name is Brian Thompson. I like to go bowling. I work at CVR Energy. I’m an Operator. Happy? Now, can—”

  “Oh, I have a friend that works there! He’s—”

  “Okay, yeah, that’s great, uh huh, who cares? Let’s go.” He wrapped his arm around her elbow and practically dragged her towards the door before reality set in that this bastard had lost his entire mind.

  “What are you doing?!” She snatched herself loose. “I’m not going home with you, Brian! I don’t know you and anyway, after this, I don’t want to get to know you. You must be drunk! Bye! We’re done here.”

  She turned to walk away and the bastard hollered out after she’d taken a few steps.

  “I must be drunk? Hell yeah, I’m drunk! How else could I bust a nut wit’ a face like yours?!”

  She froze in place, a cold stop. Her back still towards him, the tightness of surging anxiety consumed her. She could hear muted pockets of laughter bursting from strangers all around. She didn’t dare look at them, didn’t dare turn their way. Fisting and unfisting her hands, she swallowed and took another step, then another. It felt like quicksand was tugging at her ankles, dragging her down.

  “You should be happy anybody would wanna fuck yo’ fat, ugly ass! Black ass bitch!”

  More laughter… more music… more dancing… more spinning lights. She kept one foot in front of the other. Kept on walking, step by step, until she was back at the table, sitting across from Alicia. The woman stared at her for a quite some time before speaking.

  “You all right, Jess? You look a little upset.”

  “Yeah…” She mustered a smile. It took all of her energy to pull it off. “Just tired.” She hoped Alicia was too far away to have heard what had happened, her attention too focused on her phone, too cut off from the world around her. When the woman looked back down at her phone, she realized her wish was granted. Alicia would’ve been on her feet and after him if she’d known what had gone down. Melissa, too. They were just wired like that. Another hour passed, during which she polished off her drink real slow. Gathering her things, she joked with her girlfriends one final time and bid them farewell. Melissa was going to be driven home by Jamaica, so she was squared away.

  “All right, Melissa. I’ll see you later on tonight. I’mma set the alarm so when you come in, you know to—”

  “I know, I know. Turn it off right away or the po-po will come.” Her friend grinned then waved goodbye.

  Minutes later, Jessica had navigated the parking lot and arrived at her truck. She opened the door, slid in, tossed her purse on the passenger’s seat, and started it up. She turned on the radio and then put the car in drive. ‘Unpretty’ by TLC played on the oldies R&B station she always listened to. She immediately burst into tears, a wave of pent up anger, frustration, years of pressure, and layers of torment rushing forth. Putting the truck back in park, she gripped the steering wheel and gritted her teeth as her cheeks moistened with the waterfall of never-ending tears. Tears of agony and anger…

  She glanced up at herself in her rearview mirror and hated her reflection…

  There, in the mirror, was a woman so black, her skin looked blue. Her cheeks were plump and high, her lips full, her eyes wide and white and her nostrils slightly flared. She screamed out, her voice cracking, enraged at herself, hating it all.

  “I don’t give a shit about no Brian! He can’t break me! He isn’t worth no crying but I just need to know how much I’m supposed to take?! This is years of bullshit! Year after year after year of rejection! I’m tired, so tired!” She swallowed hard as she ranted, almost choking on her own spit. Her heart split open and from it oozed the lonely, gunky gray shit she’d kept hidden, stuffed inside like cotton within an old rag doll. “Mama say, ‘The Lord will bring a good man to you!’ Melissa say, ‘You too hard on guys, too picky.’ Abby say, ‘If you put on some make-up, you’d be a knock out.’ That ain’t true, either! Ain’t no way to put sugar on shit and call it a brownie. Jamaica say, ‘You should go to the gym. You got a nice shape, just need to lose a few pounds.’

  “Alicia say, ‘Men ain’t shit no way, the hell with ’em!’ But she can get a man anytime she change her mind. Three of ’em wanted her, and two outta the three still want her back. Don’t nobody want me! Nobody want me at all!”

  She dropped her head, her body shaking uncontrollably.

  “I got the right to be ugly! I got the right to want love, any ol’ way, in spite of it all! I got the right to want to be respected and treated right. I got the right to want to cuddle up with a nice man who feels and smells good and loves me real hard. They say there’s somebody for everybody. Well, my man must live on the moon and I don’t know nobody that works at NASA who can give me a ticket.”

  Her eyes stung as the tears kept pouring. Her chest burned; her stomach felt tight.

  I’m so tired… Tired of being picked last! Tired of being told I should settle. Tired of men looking past me and at my friends! Tired of not being called again after they have sex with me. Tired of nobody lookin’ at me the way they look at my friends. Tired of bein’… of bein’ nobody!

  She jammed herself back into her seat, grew quiet and breathed hard and strong, trying to steady her nerves. After a moment, she closed her eyes, took several deep breaths and calmed. After pulling herself together, she put the truck in drive and maneuvered out of her parking spot, her head held high. Her eyes felt dry and irritated, her throat sore and raw from all the screaming she’d done in there. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d fallen apart like that, had such an outburst.

  It felt good to me, and it felt bad, too.

  When she came to a red light, she reached into her glove compartment and pulled out a roll of mints, popping one into her mouth. As she drove home, she considered her options for the following day.

  Maybe I’ll go to church… Naw, Mama will think I’m back and want me to join all sorts of organizations and committees and what not. I think I’ll just stay in, maybe cook a big dinner. Some baked chicken, yams, broccoli casserole and rolls sounds good… Maybe I can make that. I should probably just tell Melissa I’m sick, wrap the sheets around me in my bedroom and stay in there all day with a bowl of popcorn and Netflix.

  As she neared her house, she felt more and more comfortable with that plan.

  I can forget all about this. I can go in there and hide…

  I can disappear inside myself, where it’s safe.

  I can be at peace. I can be happy, being nobody…

  CHAPTER THREE

  Watching Paint Dry

  2-Pac and Dr. Dre’s, ‘California Love’ blared from the house speakers he’d finally connected earlier that morning. The wiring was fairly simple. He’d had most of it pre-installed as the house had still been under construction when he’d purchased it. He’d never finished the job though, leaving it to the last minute, as he did everything else in his life as of late…

  Kane stood in the kitchen wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm. The interior of the house was covered in black, paint-splattered tarp that smelled like swimming pool liners. Scattered all around were wide brushes, hammers, screwdrivers, bags of items to be donated and more collapsed boxes. He’d spent the majority of Sunday clearing out the kitchen and bedroom, then realized he hated the blue paint in the kitchen.

  Something about it turned him off. It was a rather odd shade of blue really, with gray and purple undertones which gave it a murky look, like a wad of stale grape bubblegum. In natural sunlight, it appeared sky blue with a hint of smog, but even that didn’t suit him. He’d come to a decision to paint over it. Fresh start, commenced.

  He’d or
dered a couple new shades, ochre and gold, and settled upon the light golden color, the one that reminded him of the rising sun. Equipped with new brushes, rollers, border tape and what not sent via the delivery app he often used for such things, he spent the last twenty-four hours painting his cares away. The perfectionist in him forced him to take his time, to make sure it was done just right. He’d finished the second coat early that Monday morning and now that afternoon had arrived, he was beat and due for a long overdue break.

  I need to get cleaned up and then fix my ass somethin’ to eat. Didn’t even get any breakfast.

  He went upstairs to take a shower, the warm water so relaxing and invigorating. A remix of, ‘La Di Da Di’ by Doug E. Fresh & The Get Fresh Crew played as he shampooed his hair, bringing a nostalgia-induced smile to his lips. He massaged the long strands of hair with vigor, while the beat of the music thumped hard in his soul taking him back to a time when he’d been still… normal. A time when people had seen him… when he’d been somebody…

  He snatched himself out of his dark deliberations, rinsed his dark brown mane and body, then stepped out of the shower onto a gray fuzzy rug, the tag still attached. It, too, had been packed away, a purchase made last minute while still in Dallas when he’d made the choice to up and leave. He wiggled his toes against the soft, fresh fibers of the rug, feeling much like a kid. A memory flashed of him at age five or so, getting dried off by his grandmother after a fun bath with toys.

  As he reached for a white towel, he caught his reflection in the full-size mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He looked so… human. Flaws and all. Getting closer to the mirror, he bunched the towel in his hand. His jaw twitched as he stared at himself.

  Heart-shaped face with strong jawbone… low-cut dark beard and mustache… penetrating blue eyes… ruffled dark eyebrows that could use some trimming… prominent Adam’s apple on a neck showcasing a detailed black tattoo of a rose… long, muscular arms, abs and legs covered in dark wet hair. He looked down, pausing when he got to his thigh.