by Tiana Laveen
Jessica lowered her head. “’Cause it cut different, Melissa.”
“It ain’t a cut to just you. We all bleeding over here, damn it! You wanna put yo’ wrist out and see if you bleedin’ more than me? Fine! I ain’t gonna ever compete in the White man’s game for your love, to try and win you over and prove to you that I ain’t like everybody else and you been judging me ’cause I’m light-skinned since we was kids! You been thinking I’m prettier than you ’cause of this lighter shade – words that never left my damn mouth since I knew how to talk. You ain’t ever hear me do you like them men did you and even some of our old friends in high school who used to say dumb shit about you. I gotta cater to your pain while you ignore mine! I always took up for you, never said nothin’ negative about your skin, but I gotta be the one you cut, huh?! I gotta be the sacrificial lamb ’cause the world done did you wrong and yet I gotta apologize for the skin I’m in. You done gave me an invoice for a bill I ain’t run up, Jess! I can’t even think I’m pretty too, on account of walkin’ on eggshells around you about this shit!” Tears slipped down the woman’s cheeks.
“I never asked you to apologize,” Jessica stated calmly. “I asked you to SEE. ME. SEE ME! SEE ME! SEE ME!!!” She screamed and that pain in her throat showed up… the one that triggered from those muscles not being used, the new strain of it all. The pain poured out like lava, burning her up, making her feel the heat of her heartache.
“I SEE YOU! But do YOU see you?! You’re my world, Jess! Who was there for me when I had to leave my old man? You! Who was there when I went over my mama’s house and found her dead? YOU! You took care of everything – told me to sit back and you handled the arrangements and everything. I ain’t got no brothers and sisters. All I got is you! You my sister. I wish I was like you in so many ways but life is funny, ain’t it? It’s a game of chance and fuckery! I’m just a pawn!
“We both Black and when we go to some places ’round here, I damn sure get called a nigger just as easy as you do! They don’t give uh shit that I’m latte like coffee and cream! None of these racists mothafuckas care about any of that! That’s the part you never see. You get to the end of the road, Jess, but you never look over the cliff. All you see is me getting ahead on the path. You never took another step to realize I never landed on higher ground. I fell off! I ain’t apologizing for my skin complexion, and you don’t need to apologize for yours. That’s one thing we can’t choose: the color we come into this world in.”
“That’s true. We can’t.” The warm beverage went down her throat nice and smooth, but nothing could mitigate the hurt in her heart right then. Though she didn’t agree with everything her friend said, she realized Melissa had made some valuable points in her emotional outburst. And that hurt just as badly. Maybe she was seeing this all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t so black and white.
“We’ve talked about this for years and we’ll talk about it again no doubt, and argue about it too, but what does you being dark-skinned got to do with you being over a tall, handsome bastard’s house till four in the morning and not getting laid?! Riddle me that!”
“I left his house a little after three.” She smirked.
“Don’t get sassy.” Melissa chuckled and dabbed at her eyes. “And don’t sit here and tell me he ain’t at least try to kiss you because I know he did.” Her cheeks warmed. “Uh huh! I knew it!” Melissa laughed as she pulled her chair back out, towel in hand, and leaned forward. “Spill it!”
Jessica hesitated then burst out laughing.
“All right, here we go. I told you his name is Kane. He lives in a real big nice house, by himself. He’s sexy, girl… real good looking. He’s single. No kids. Thirty-seven years old and has worked in car design and things like that. He’s an automotive engineer. I think his family is well to do, though he ain’t exactly say that. Anyway, he’s from Dallas and was real popular back home. What I didn’t tell you is that, uh, he had a pretty bad car accident a few years ago.” She could see the smile slowly fade from Melissa’s face.
“Oh damn, that’s a shame.”
“Yeah, it is. Well…” She huffed. “That left him with a mild case—I say mild because he does go outside a bit—of agoraphobia.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s an anxiety disorder. When you’re afraid of being outside because it causes a lot of stress and anxiety. This hasn’t been a lifelong thing for him. His disorder was triggered because of the car accident.”
Melissa nodded in understanding.
“So he’s crazy. Always a catch, ain’t it?” The woman chuckled and took a sip of her coffee.
“Always.” Jessica chuckled back. “Anyway, we have a hell of a lot in common but, uh, we’re just friends. I don’t think it’s going anywhere.”
“And neither is he, apparently.” Jessica rolled her eyes and smiled at her friend.
“Well, see, that’s just the thing. From what he explained, there isn’t a cure. Either someone snaps out of it or they don’t. I am not sure I believe that, though. I think if we tell ourselves that something won’t work, then sometimes we believe it. Besides, these therapists don’t know everything.”
“How would you know? Have you seen one?” Melissa reached for her cigarettes in her robe pocket and lit one.
“Anyway, yesterday I got him outside. We had a picnic.”
The woman crossed her legs and her eyes narrowed. “Do you see what I’m talking about now?”
“Talking about what?”
“Magic. You got that Black girl magic. I done told you this since we were teenagers. This man has been afraid to go outside according to you, got a phobia name for it and everything, and you managed to take yo’ ass over there and make him have a picnic.”
“Wasn’t any big deal.” She shrugged. “It was only in his backyard.”
“Don’t matter. That’s still outside. He trusted you. Everyone trusts you. That’s magic.”
Jessica pulled her plate back towards her, her appetite resurfacing after all. They kept on chatting, sharing a couple of laughs, and after a while, her cell phone rang in the distance.
“Your phone is ringing,” Melissa stated between puffs, swinging her leg to and fro.
“I know.” Jessica dabbed at the side of her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’ll be back.”
Moments later, she was looking at the missed call.
Kane.
She returned to the kitchen, phone in hand, and set it down to finish her coffee and eggs.
“I think he tried to kiss me.”
Melissa scratched her head through her scarf and blew out rings of smoke that reminded her of smoky donuts.
“Tried?”
“Yeah. I moved away before he could land it. I was getting ready to drive off.”
“…But I’m wrong about you, right?” She gripped that cigarette tight with her long, spindly fingers, nails painted bright red. Her eyes grew dark, her tone rough. “Everything I said earlier is bullshit, huh? All right, Jess, have it your way.”
“So you mean to tell me that a man with an anxiety disorder is the one for me and I’m looking a gift horse in the mouth?” She sighed. What nerve the woman had.
“You already wanted to see if he could get out of his own way. The man had a damn picnic for you. Ain’t no tellin’ what happened during that picnic. You haven’t told me how he responded but I doubt it was all peaches and cream. Yet he did it, anyway, and all he asked for in return was a damn kiss.”
“I wasn’t in the mood.”
“You wasn’t in the mood ’cause you realized he just might be different! You tested him, he passed, and then you ran away. Like you always do.” The woman got up from her seat. “I guess third time’s the charm. Ain’t no Mexican family to worry about. Ain’t no replacing the dead wife and being the cook and maid. It’s just you and him. He moved a mountain for you. He likes you and you like him or you wouldn’t have wasted yo’ time in the first place. By the way, I have a job interview tomorrow. And it looks like, so d
o you…”
CHAPTER NINE
Scrub Away Your Sorrows
Kane’s feet pressed into the cool, damp earth. The warmth of his body merged with the chilled soft mud that made a bed for the blades of grass. Each blade grazed against his heels and ankles, begging for a cut. He remembered his lawn guy was due the following day. Temperatures were falling and the grass was growing slower… sort of like the last year of his life. He did less, wanted less, asked for less, expected less.
Shoving the disappointing thoughts aside, he concentrated on the task at hand. Moving forward.
Each step proved a little easier than the last. Courting with freedom was a dance. Freedom from the prison bars that locked away his mind.
I’m in control!
He’d had a horrible nightmare. The reoccurring one with the big blurry trees that stretched high into the blackened sky like long, gangling fingers from which dangled sparse leaves and threats of retribution. The earsplitting smack, tear, and annihilation of splintered metal against rigid bark as three lives were forever changed. Glass flew about in slow motion, glinting like fresh cut jagged diamonds tossed from a velvet bag into the night sky by the hand of God. Destiny. Fate. Groans and curses, moans and regret. The sticky fluid of remorse crept in like the evening tide.
Why’d I live and why did he die?
Why’d my prayers go unanswered?
Why’d my family turn their backs on me?
Why is it no one ever looked at me the same?
Around and around he went, in his mind and body, spinning like a top. Dancing hard in the muck like a child racing back and forth through a sprinkler in the summer heat. Summer was gone now and Autumn snuck in. She was the death of the land; she stole life and spit out crumpled brown leaves and bursts of cool air that tickled your bones. And the sun was snatched away, too, every now and again. Autumn made the bugs stop buzzing, the birds stop flying, and the country spin a little slower. She smelled like death and candied apples, pumpkins and Native Indian peace pipes. She smelled like firewood crackling and depression. But perhaps she was more than that. Just maybe, one truly had to die in order to be born again? Maybe she was the rise of a new opportunity, so all he had to do was have the gumption to seek out the key and finally be free. He kept moving, standing not a great distance from his back door, but he was outside all the same. Kane had almost forgotten what it felt like to be one with the soil again. It had rained that morning, just as it had the evening prior. The smell lingered in the air.
Last night… About last night… wow. I wonder if she’ll call me back?
He ran his hand along the prickly hairs covering his jaw and eyed the spot he and Jessica had sat in during the picnic. She’d so gone out of her way last night. The cold food had been nice and fresh, the hot entrées and side dishes warm and delicious. It all looked different now under the sunlight. A cool breeze blew through his hair and tickled his spine. Goosebumps covered his arms and he smiled in wonder at the sight. Images of Jessica pranced into his mind and then his mouth pooled with the flavor of defeat. He felt like a damn fool when he thought back about how he’d reacted when the rain got going. The woman had to practically tackle him to make him regain his composure. He’d felt even stupider when he’d leaned in to kiss her that night and she turned away.
Maybe he was clueless? Could be she didn’t like him like that at all. Was he reading her signals wrong? Maybe this attraction and chemistry was all in his damn mind or one-sided. He walked into his garage and stared hopelessly at his red Corvette sitting there collecting dust. Next to it was his black Mercedes and along the wall hung a couple dirt bikes he used to tear up the back roads of Dallas with. He flipped the light off and went back inside the house, making quick work of turning on some music and cleaning up a hall closet that was full of the mess he’d tossed inside on moving day. I need to clean the guest bathroom first though. That’ll take all of fifteen minutes. Not long at all.
‘No Diggity’ by Blackstreet blasted through the speakers as he filled a bucket with warm water and a dash of lemon Pine Sol. As he grabbed a yellow sponge from under the bathroom sink, he felt a buzzing sensation against his upper thigh. He stood straight, slid the phone out of his jeans pocket, and answered with a smile.
“Hey, good morning. Nice to hear from you.”
“Yeah, good mornin’ to you, too. When you called I was eating breakfast and talking with Melissa,” Jessica explained, her voice heavy, as if something were sitting on her shoulders and weighing her down.
“How are you? Everything all right?” He pushed the bucket with his foot, then dropped to his knees and placed the phone on the floor, face up, speaker on. He turned on the hot water in the bathtub and wet the sponge, then started to scrub, removing any grit and grime residue.
“Yeah, can’t complain. Had a heart to heart with her – a little more draining than usual. Anyway, what are your plans today? Keeping busy?”
“I plan to run a marathon, cruise Europe, and then drive cross country and stop at every 7-11 I see to grab a hot dog or one of those fried to death enchiladas.”
She burst out laughing.
“You’re a mess, but hey, you could do it if you put your mind to it. So, how do you feel this morning, huh? I know yesterday was a little rough but you did well if you ask me!”
“I feel good! I really do.” He grabbed a bottle of bleach cleanser, sprayed the tub, and gave it some dedicated elbow grease. “I went outside this morning.”
“Yes!”
He smiled at her reaction. He could almost picture her thrusting her fist in the air in celebration.
“Don’t get too happy now. I didn’t go far, but I just made myself stand out there.”
“Good! You should be proud of yourself. Day by day is all we have, as long as you try. You know I meant to ask you, how in the world did you move down here from Dallas with your condition? Seems like that would’ve sent you overboard.”
“At that time, I only had bouts of it, so it wasn’t like an everyday thing. It’s gotten worse over time.”
“Okay, I see.”
“I need to talk to you about something, Jessica.” He grunted as he grabbed the phone, got to his feet, and sat on the toilet.
“Yeah? What’s up? What’s on your mind?”
“Do you think you could ever see me as more than a friend?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. The quiet from the other end of the phone made his heart sink, but he didn’t regret asking. He wanted an answer, and there was no need to beat around the damn bush.
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “That’s a good question. I guess you’re asking me because of last night, right?”
“Yes. I ain’t saying I’m the best catch in the world, but I’m far from the worst. If you aren’t interested in me because of the agoraphobia, I get it, but I just wanna know where I stand because truth be told, I didn’t want you to come over this second time around just to play Chess or just because you might think I’m lonely. I mean, hell, I am lonely sometimes, but I’m content with my own company, too.”
“I don’t think you’re a bad catch, as you put it. The bottom line is that I honestly don’t know what to make of you, Kane. I also don’t know if it’s just the agoraphobia that’s the issue. I know snippets of you, if that makes sense.”
“That’s fair. I understand.” He got to his feet and put the phone on the top of the sink. Sprinkling Comet cleaning powder into the basin, he began to scour it, going around and around in circular motions. At that moment, nothing seemed to be clean. The need to prove himself made him feel as though he were a leper, covered with hideous, oozing sores and gripping a death wish. He’d seldom been rejected and though this wasn’t exactly a dismissal, it wasn’t an acceptance, either.
“Would you believe me if I said it’s me, not you?” She tossed a half-hearted laugh his way.
“Maybe. Depends on what evidence you submit to my court of law.” The place started smelling mighty good. The bleach,
Pine Sol, and cleanser odors merged together and filled the air. “I’m just kidding. Like I said, I understand what you’re saying, Jessica.”
“I’m not really sure you do. It’s just that, see, I—”
“Is it because I’m White?” The notion hadn’t truly crossed his mind until then. He stood a bit straighter, his jaw tightened. He had no idea why he hadn’t even considered that possibility and had thought of his phobias and hang ups first as a roadblock, versus the color of his skin.
“No, that’s not it.” She chuckled. She sounded sincere enough. “I don’t think it even necessarily has everything to do with you, just like I said. In fact, I know it doesn’t.” He paused and stared at himself in the vanity mirror. His eyes looked a bit whiter, with fewer lines around them. He’d combed his hair away from his face and he seemed somehow changed, brand new.
“If it’s not me, that means it’s you based on what you’re saying. If I’m to believe that, tell me why. What’s going on? You can tell me; we’re friends I’d think at least. I mean, hell, we talk and text on the phone a lot. Let’s have a discussion.” After some hesitation, she burst out laughing. “What?” he asked with a grin as he whipped out some vinegar and water in a spray bottle from under the sink cabinet and went to work on the water splashed mirror that cast back his reflection. One that seemingly changed subtly every few seconds. Perhaps it was the lighting.
