by Tiana Laveen
Last night was… crazy.
She closed her eyes and patted the silk bonnet over her head.
Well, dreamlike, really. The edges of the night left her memories stained with the smell of fresh rain, clipped grass, fresh tears and raucous laughter. Even in his pain, he could be funny. Something she certainly could relate to. Sometimes, all one had left in the whole wide world was a sense of humor. Laughter in the face of evil and agony was God’s gift, a golden ticket to help one not slit their own throat.
She reflected over her time with King Kane, diving deeper into her recollections, and shuddered in embarrassment when she replayed the end of the evening.
King Kane is fitting. I felt that. I meant that. Not all men are kings, but he is. ’Cause he tried.
The man had simply fallen upon hard times and became a pawn in his own game. He’d graduated to a knight when he got off his ass again. Didn’t matter why; what counted was that he’d tackled that mess he’d been surrounded by. All of those boxes must have represented the state of his mind. Clutter. Disorder.
It was a fence. Protection. He was afraid of the outside world, as well as the inside world between his ears, too. Yeah, he’s a king, all right. What do I do with him now?
He’d made his way out into the vanishing sun. His long legs moved like a dancer’s and the surviving rays of light beamed on his hair and skin, making him practically glow. Kane had a natural tan. He had to have since he rarely went outside but still appeared sun-kissed. His wavy dark brown hair was interspersed with strands of amber and honey blond. He was a beautiful piece of work.
He don’t think I’m beautiful though. Not with my broad nose and wide shape… He just knows how to say the right things is all. He definitely has a way with words. It’s fine. I don’t have to be beautiful to everyone. But when he looked at me… I… I was almost convinced he did think I was beautiful after all. Maybe he thinks he owes me something for being nice to him? That happens sometimes. But he showed care all the same, and it took me off guard.
Jessica fell into a daydream…
When they’d entered the house after the rain had gotten harder and his anxiety had soared through the roof, he’d asked how she was feeling. He’d checked to see if she’d gotten too soaked, or hurt herself maybe helping him get back on his feet.
It was the oddest thing…
The man had been in the throes of an attack, holding on by a thread. His bright eyes had glossed over. Had she not seen so much in life, the sight would’ve terrified her, but he simply couldn’t help himself.
The rain was a final nail in the coffin. Something about it set him off, made him spin out of control. Regardless, that man looked at me, clasped my face with both hands, practically squeezing my cheeks to death as we stood in his dark kitchen. He wanted to know if I was okay. I simply said, ‘Yes,’ uncertain what other answer to give, but really, I wasn’t okay. I thought, if the shoe was on the other foot, could I have done what he did? And damn if I didn’t have an answer. Could I have been so brave?
He asked me that, then off he went. I stayed there and heard him running through the house like a madman, his feet thumping up the staircase, and then, a door slammed on the upstairs level. Ten minutes later, I was still standing there, feeling some kind of way. When he returned to me, he’d changed into a pair of worn dark jeans, a loose white shirt, and no shoes. He explained he’d just wanted to get the wet clothing off – not that he even minded being wet, but somehow, it made him feel heavy and burdened. He wanted to be free.
They’d gone on to play a game of chess while chugging back lemonade and then she partook in a strawberry wine cooler while he tossed back a couple of beers. That son of a bitch had won again. He was a damn good chess player. They’d followed that up with a game of Uno, but she’d kicked his behind that time and showed him what she was working with. She’d gloated and bragged, and he’d seemed to love being beat because he’d said he liked to see her happy.
After having something to eat, it was already 3:12 A.M. She hadn’t wanted to leave for it had felt like she was pulling the plug on a reality that had yet to materialize. But the last thing she’d wanted was to overstay her welcome.
Then… something strange had happened. When he’d walked her to her truck—yeah, he’d gone outside again, bare feet on the wet concrete and grass—he’d wrapped his arms around her. Oh, the beautiful smell of his cologne, his clean scent, the freshness of his breath… His soft hair pressed against her cheek. It had taken a while for him to let her go… slowly… and he’d seemed sad to do so. When she got into the truck, he’d leaned in close, his head through the open car window, but she’d pulled away for a reason she still couldn’t explain.
Was he going to kiss me? It damn sure looked like it. Of course he was going to kiss me.
“Huh?!” She was startled by a loud knock at her door, whacking her out of the replay of the previous night’s events.
“I been knocking, Jess. You want some breakfast? I made some. Come sit with me and eat.” Melissa said, her shadow moving about by the door.
“Oh. Okay… yeah. Give me a minute.” She stretched and yawned. After washing her face and putting on a robe over her owl print PJs, she headed to the kitchen to find a breakfast of scrambled eggs, creamy grits, hash browns with peppers and onions, sausage, bacon, and pancakes with assorted jams and toppings laid out on the breakfast nook table. Jessica pulled out one of the orange painted chairs and took a seat, careful to not make the OJ on the table topple over. Gospel music played real low in the background, setting a positive mood. Melissa returned to the stove and turned all the eyes off, then sat down with her. They both sipped on their coffee.
I refuse to admit such a thing to this woman, but thank God she’s here. I am so glad I’m not alone right now…
“So, you ain’t gonna look me in the eye this morning?” Ignoring Melissa’s question, Jessica kept taking sips from her blue coffee mug. “I’ll take that as a no. What happened over your date’s house last night?”
“Nothin’.”
“See Jess, you stay playing games.”
“I’m not playing games!” She laughed, but hell, she was telling the truth. There were no dirty details to relay, no dick licks and tongue tricks to share.
“I know you aren’t about to try and play that game with me this Sunday morning. You crept in here late last night like some alley cat.” The woman cackled as she poured syrup over a large buttery pancake then cut it to pieces. “Was it good?”
“What?”
“The sex with the White boy?”
“We didn’t have sex.” Melissa gripped her fork and knife and glared at her from across the table. “I’m serious.”
“You mean to tell me that all that time passed and you ain’t even get any dick?! Did he at least play with ya pussy?”
“No, nothing sexual happened.”
“Girl! Jess, you are either lying through your teeth or you are a horrible mess!” Jessica managed a small grin at that point, took another sip of her coffee then placed it down on the table.
“I had a great time, but he and I are just—”
“Friends.” A heavy burden settled on her heart. The air had shifted once that ‘F’ word rolled off Melissa’s tongue on her behalf.
“Jessica, can I tell you something?”
“What? You found a job?”
“No. I want to tell you that I’ve seen you do this before,” Melissa said in irritation.
“What? What is it that you think I’m doing?” She played with her eggs a little, then put a forkful in her mouth.
“Two times, in the many years since we’ve been friends. You’ve pushed good men away who showed interest in you.”
Jessica sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know what you think you’ve seen, Melissa, but that ain’t ever happened! If God showed me a good man and handed him over, I’d snatch that fool up in a heartbeat.”
“Your actions don’t match your
words.”
“And your declarations of putting in resumes don’t match the lack of calls for an interview.”
“Listen to me. I can prove that you ain’t doing what you claim to be doing.”
“That’s the whole point. We’re even then. Leave me alone.” Jessica giggled, tickled with herself.
Melissa rolled her eyes and continued, “One time back in high school, that boy, José, liked you. You thought he just wanted to study in that little math group you two were in, but I knew he was into you more than that. As soon as he asked you out, you put distance between you and him and he was so confused as to why you stopped speaking to him. He even asked me if he’d done anything wrong. The next time it happened was about three years ago. Remember Derek Jones?”
“Derek Jones? Oh! That old man at the grocery store?”
“First of all, he wasn’t old. He just spoke slowly, was a little boring and had premature gray, but anyway, he was sweet on you. Always giving you discounts when you came into his line. He’d act like there was a coupon or something you’d overlooked and then you’d walk outta there with a hundred dollars’ worth of groceries for only seventy.”
“Now you just bein’ silly! He was nice to everybody!”
“No, he wasn’t.” Melissa ate a spoonful of grits and chased it down with some orange juice.
“So, you think that when a man shows interest in me, I run? That’s silly! I’ve been tryna find me a good man for years!” Jessica chuckled again, though the matter was far from funny.
“Jessica, any guy who seems like he has something to really offer you, you run from.”
“You act like there’s been a whole line of guys bangin’ down my door, Melissa. Like I have a buffet of sexy dudes waitin’ to get a taste of all this chocolate but I’m shooing them away!”
“You have more of them than you let on.”
“Girl, you’re delusional. Ain’t nobody checkin’ for me like that.” She plucked a piece of bacon from her plate and bit it. Damn, it was perfect. Crispy and flavorful.
“Derek was a manager down there at that store. He was widowed, had a teenage son and was smitten with you because you were always so nice and funny. Everyone could see it. He asked you out, you already told me, but you wiggled outta that and now he done went and married that long-faced girl that moved here from Florida. José was the nerd of our school, short and funny looking, but sweet as pie! Now he is a damn doctor up in Dallas, a surgeon last I heard! All of that coulda been yours. But if a mothafucka ain’t no good, you’ll at least entertain him then use that as an excuse to break free, like you didn’t know he wasn’t shit from the get-go.”
“That’s not what’s been happening,” she hissed.
“Yeah it is, and that’s why you left it at that – just denied it with no further explanation. In your head, you are a victim. Sometimes you are the target, while other times, you aren’t.”
“You sure have some nerve tryna tell me about myself and my love life, or lack thereof. You just as crazy as Kane. You on that shit, ain’t you? That’s how you’ve been keeping your girly figure. This ain’t no powdered sugar on those pancakes on the counter; it’s that snow.”
“You can make jokes all you want, Jess, but I think you’re a complicated person when it comes to affairs of the heart.”
“Girl, please! I know you ain’t sitting here trying to give some advice and sound all wise like you’ve been changed and transformed to spiritual guru status. You done had so many men you ran through that you should have five Olympic medals for the hundred-yard smash! No dash for you, straight smash!”
“And I’d wear them damn things proudly, too! At least I ain’t running from the truth!”
“Why don’t you use that same energy and run towards a job?” Jessica’s lips curled in a nasty smile as she socked it to her friend, determined to break her down to size.
“I am, but don’t try to get off topic. I ain’t even sure why you run from some guys and run to some others, but then you always complain nobody is paying attention to you. You laugh about it like it’s funny.”
“It is funny because life is funny. What’s the point in crying and falling apart about it? That’s not going to make nobody pay attention to me, either. I’m invisible.”
“That’s not true. If you were gone, everyone would feel it.” Melissa’s voice shook. The damn woman was becoming emotional. “You just ain’t paying attention to the right ones.”
“So you mean to sit there and try to tell me that all the many times when all of us go out to the club or to a party, the men don’t pay way more attention to you and everyone else but me?”
Melissa cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms over her small chest. “Not all the time.”
“Bullshit! I hear the same thing all the time – been hearing it my whole life. ‘Jess, you too dark!’; ‘Jess, you black as tar, your skin is 11:59 – damn near midnight!’; ‘Jess, you fat!’ ; ‘Jessica, you so black that lightening bugs follow you around in the daytime!’; ‘Jess, you so black that yo’ blood type is burnt.’ Yeah, my whole life I’ve been told these things, even by some family members. And when we go out on the town, I get reminded just how invisible I am. It don’t stop me from going because I love to listen to the music, hang out with y’all and dance, but I’m not stupid, Melissa. ‘Jess, all I can see is the whites of ya eyes!’ some people say, making fun of me, like I’m supposed to think that was a damn good joke. Then people start laughing… People always laugh at ‘Black’ jokes.”
“I never did…”
They stared at one another for a spell.
“Don’t matter. You know what I’m talking about and you remember it happening, too, so don’t act like that didn’t exist, like I pulled it clean outta my own ass. Some of these men out here only approach me, Melissa, because they think I’m desperate and easy. Someone they can fuck real quick and be gone. They ain’t serious about me! That’s why I ignore them. You really think Jose’s Mexican family would have accepted my Black ass?! No! That’s why I cut that low like a fade. I had to walk away. I was young, not stupid. I knew my life would be a livin’ hell dealing with his family and yes, I was aware that he liked me – but he only liked me ’cause I was the only girl giving him the time of day. I was nice to everyone, ’specially those that got teased a lot, ’cause I knew how it felt but they weren’t as strong as me. As far as Derek, he just wanted someone to cook and clean for him at home.”
“Now you need to quit.”
“No, I’m serious, Melissa. See, that’s what happens when you only have half of the story. Every time I came through that line, he was talking about his big, empty house and how he sure missed a woman’s touch. I didn’t wanna be cooped up in nobody’s house being their maid and cook! I could see the writing on the wall. Yeah, I would like to meet someone wonderful, get married and share a life with them, but I don’t want to be used!” She slammed her fist on the table. “I’m tired of bein’ used! Been used my whole life! You got it easy ’cause of your skin – you the right color. You have a bigger selection than me to choose from. I gotta work with what I have.”
“You honestly think that because I’m light-skinned I’m living the good life, Jess? How many times we gotta talk about this?!”
“Until you understand!”
“Why don’t I have a job then, huh?! I got a degree!” She tossed up her hands. “I ain’t got any kids. My online profile is right there with my picture. This skin ain’t get me no job! It ain’t found me a man that is decent and good! What is this privilege you think I got right now? The men you think are so wonderful and comin’ after me ain’t shit! You wanna fight over them? You wanna have them? Be my guest!”
“If we could change places, and you had to wear dark skin for just one day, you’d change your tune. You got it better than me. These men out here worship you and you ain’t got the good sense to even admit it!”
“You full of shit, Jessica!” Melissa jumped up out of her chair, ho
tter than fish grease. “Talking about you strong, you was stickin’ up for people weaker than you, couldn’t handle it… you this and that and the third but yet you always the victim when it comes to this skin shit! That ain’t strong and I wish we could change places too, ’cause we still in Texas and I’m still a nigga down here, just like you! Brown paper bag test my ass.”
“You benefit from colorism! Period! Why is that so hard to acknowledge? This has nothing to do with you not getting a job right now. What it has to do with is, if you and I were standing side by side and an employer had to choose one of us for a job on looks alone, they’d choose YOU! Now tell me it ain’t so! You look me in my damn face and tell me I’m full of shit again about that point right there and I’ll let you go on a shopping spree on my credit card. That’s how sure I am of this right here!” Her heart raced within her. Her temper raged and yet, a watery layer of sorrow bubbled inside of her.
“You know what, Jessica? Your blues ain’t like mine, and mine ain’t like yours.” The woman began to clean the dishes. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to you. I think you’re beautiful, told you that too many times to count.” Jessica shoved her plate aside and drank some more coffee. Her appetite was dead. Dead as her father and stepfather. “You never believed me. In our circle, we know you as dependable. Funny. Great dancer. Hardworking. Caring. Giving tough love. You have a way of coming into a room and lighting it up with your energy. There’s something real special about you. You make people feel strong, when they’re weak. You’re magic.”
“It’s not magic. It’s understanding that no matter what, I gotta live my life and I have to make the most of it. But you denying colorism and the ramifications of it shows that you aren’t the least bit interested in what I’ve gone through.”
“Jess, you hear what you wanna hear to suit your argument. I ain’t never once been denying that colorism is real. It is. It exists. What I am denying is how you think I interpret it and benefit from it. I ain’t disagreeing that I’ve gotten favored over you sometimes when we’re out and men are checking for us. What I am denying is the question of why would you think I want that?” She quickly spun around and faced her, tears in her eyes. “Why would you think I’d want a man who only wanted me ’cause I’m lighter than you, huh?! You my best friend! Why would you think I’d wanna work for somebody who only hired me because they may think I’d be less loud and aggressive ’cause I’m lighter?! How does that elevate me? How does that improve my life? How does that make my world go round?! I want to be chosen because I’m the better candidate. I want to be courted because he thinks I’m nice and pretty – not just ’cause I’m lighter. Why can’t you get outta your own shadow and see my point of view? Why do I always have to acknowledge your part in this, but you can never acknowledge mine?!”
