The Viper and his Majesty

by Tiana Laveen

  Troy’s rich complexion deepened.

  “It was a dare!”

  “And you was foolish enough to fall in line. You was walkin’ around like a toy soldier. I turned you around to see how to wind you up! You’re lucky you didn’t lose any skin, boy, but I am certain you’ll never grow hair in that spot once puberty gets a hold of you. It’ll be smooth as a baby’s behind for the rest of your days!” Oddly enough, he remained quiet as she lit into him. “Boy, that bill ’bout took me to Jesus when I saw it! All because you want to be a little, pint-sized Steve Harvey and make everyone laugh! You ain’t a king of comedy, and you ain’t got Steve Harvey’s money to pay that hospital bill, either. Hell, you can’t pay a telephone bill, a water bill, or a duck’s bill! Nothin’! Tellin’ me adults need to stay home!” she mumbled as she snatched open a drawer looking for her wine corkscrew opener to set out for as soon as her child’s head hit the pillow.

  His eyes widened, and the utter look of defeat and disappointment took over.

  “Now you sit here and be quiet, Troy. Understood?”

  “All right, Mama.”

  Minutes later, she was heading over to Mr. Earl’s house. It was now sprinkling. As she approached, he turned the loud machine off.

  “Hi there, Ms. Majesty! Nice of ya to stop by!”

  “Mr. Earl. I’d like to help. You shouldn’t be out here, and it’s started to rain.”

  “Oh, I’ll be all right! Go on back home.” He shooed her away and got ready to start the mower up again.

  “Let me finish it for you.”

  “You? No, no. I can do it, Majesty. Besides, look. I’m almost finished.”

  She looked around, and he had about three more rows to do.

  “What if I told you that I love to mow the lawn? I know you see me out there sometimes. When it’s not too hot, I really enjoy it. Please let me. It would be a real shame if you caught pneumonia. Besides, it’s my way of thanking you for the pie.”

  He looked at her thoughtfully, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and peered at his porch.

  “All right, but only because I’m almost finished.”

  The poor man was breathing hard, and his shirt was soaked through. Gripping the lawnmower handle, she pushed it over the lawn, her thoughts swarming and her mood lifted. She loved the smell of freshly cut grass. It reminded her of so many beautiful childhood memories, the times before reality set in. The rain began to fall harder, and by the time she was done, taking pride in her perfectly straight rows compared to Mr. Earl’s nice but wobbly ones, she was soaked. She found the man sitting on his porch with a big glass of ice water. She pushed the lawnmower towards him, suddenly realizing the rain had gone away, although probably not for long. It would come back with a vengeance.

  “Where should I take it to? Your garage?”

  “Just leave it right there, honey.” She nodded. “You know what? Ain’t nobody ever offered to help me mow this here lawn. You surprised me. I still feel mighty bad about letting you do it. And look at you, you’re drenched.”

  “I’m just fine, Mr. Earl.” She smiled. “Besides, I like cold showers.” They both had a good laugh at that. “All right, I’ll head on back home. Thanks again for the pie and try to get some rest.”

  “Hold up now. I poured this water for you.”

  “Oh…” She thanked him and drank, the cold beverage tasting like the best damn water she’d ever had.

  “Young lady, your parents should be mighty proud of you.” She smiled weakly—couldn’t muster more—and kept on drinking. “I don’t get to see my children as much as I’d like. It gets a little lonely sometimes.”

  She handed him the empty glass, then crossed her arms.

  “Well, you must’ve not seen it in the paper I suppose, but I happen to be up for adoption.”

  The man burst out laughing. “Your parents… hmmm… difficult relationship?”

  “Sometimes things are fine. Sometimes they’re not so fine.”

  He nodded in understanding.

  “Mr. Earl, I’d be more than happy to check in on you and spend time with you, just like I do with my own family.”

  “Well, aren’t you the sweetest! If I adopted you, you’d be my youngest one, almost my eldest grandson’s age. I wouldn’t mind a smart daughter like you!” He smiled so big, it made her heart melt. “All jokes aside, thank you for your help. I do appreciate it, though I hate that you took the trouble.” She walked up his steps, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then turned to leave.

  “Uh, Majesty, do you mind some fake, pretend fatherly advice?”

  “You being my father is fake, or the advice?” she teased, making him chuckle. “I suppose not. Go ahead.”

  “All right.” He wiped his forehead once again. “I ain’t got shit to do but look around and see what everybody else is doing ’round here. It’s like a free TV show, without havin’ HBO or one of those damn streaming services people on the computer are always tryna sell me. All I gotta do is look out this here window and see pay per view!”

  She burst out laughing. “I can only imagine what goes on around here when I’m at work.” It was starting to sprinkle again, so she stepped onto his porch, seeking protection from the awning.

  “I think Viper is sweet on you.”

  She ran her hand along her arm, not certain she really wanted to get into all of that right then and there.

  “You ain’t gotta say anything, Majesty. I just wanted you to know. He is out there trainin’ them dogs early in the morning sometimes, and I see him walking them, and he’ll fetch your newspaper outta your yard, put it on your porch. Sometimes, this lazy ass mailman doesn’t close the mail hatches; he’ll just rush around putting the wrong stuff in people’s boxes and such, letting everyone driving around see if we’ve got something interesting in there to steal by leavin’ the flap open. I’ve seen Viper walk over and close your mailbox for you a time or two. I’ve also seen him pick weeds outta your yard after that notice came around about folks not tending to their lawns, and he put numbers on your mailbox, too.”

  She’d wondered who’d done that! Some busybody from the HOA had emailed her talking about she needed the numbers on the mailbox, but she hadn’t gotten around to it. She figured the woman had just come over and done it herself.

  “I asked you before if you knew him, Mr. Earl. You said you didn’t… not well, anyway.”

  The man stood and stretched.

  “I don’t. He keeps to himself. I just know he reminds me a bit of a friend of mine I knew a long time ago, before I had gotten right with the Lord and settled down.” She wasn’t fooled—the man was speaking about himself. “I know he works hard with those dogs and he’s good at what he does. He keeps a low profile, despite all of that loud music. He was playin’ Parliament the other day. Now that’s some shit I can boogie to. I play it sometimes, too. Got all the records! Flash. Light! Reeeed Light! Neon light! Stop. LIGHT!”

  “Shinin’ on the funk!”

  “Oh my God! Whatcha know about that, girl?! You and Viper too young to know about that good music! Must’ve been in ya mama’s albums!”

  They both burst out laughing again. Her stomach was hurting from the silliness of it all.

  “But anyway, yeah, as I was saying. I also know when a man is sweet on someone, really into her, but doesn’t always know how to show it.”

  “Oh, he’s made it clear.” Her cheeks warmed as she let the cat out of the bag.

  Mr. Earl giggled.

  “Honey, I don’t mean with words. He could be the smoothest talker in the South, the most honest man to walk the streets of Boca Raton. I’m talkin’ about men like him probably find it hard to trust folks is all. To open up. They don’t do nice things to gain points with you, per se. They do it, so they can prove to themselves they can walk the walk, not just talk the talk. He’s going through changes.”

  “And you can tell all of that just from him picking up my newspaper and putting numbers on my mailbox?”

&
nbsp; “Naw. I can tell because he sits in his backyard, late at night sometimes, drinking a beer, listening to music, those big ass dogs around him, and he’ll be in that lawn chair or that hammock, lookin’ right over at your house. When your lights go out, he goes in. He watches over you like some protector. That’s a man who’s fallin’ fast. And definitely fallin’ hard…”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Bless the Child that’s Got His Own

  Viper sat next to his mother in her small home that smelled of rich coffee and strong cigarette smoke. His thoughts drifted to the previous day when he and Majesty met for lunch. The evening before that, they’d started a long text message conversation after Troy had gone to bed, which had led to an even longer phone call, and then to them sitting on her porch, talking face to face as the stars sparkled in the sky. And kissing. Plenty of kissing.

  He craved her so badly. Oh, the wonderful things I could do to that pussy if given the chance. I’ll get it. Soon… He could still practically taste her strawberry lip-gloss and smell her perfume. Things were progressing well, though he kept their connection a secret, as with all things that mattered to him. He didn’t want it jinxed, or put it out into the world, making it everyone’s business. Each day, he looked forward to her ‘good morning’ texts, often accompanied by a meme or some inspirational quote of the day. He was enjoying himself with Majesty, and though things were moving a bit slower with her than he’d like, he was happy with the time they shared, the conversations they had, and her warmth and humor.

  A Hispanic soap opera played out on the TV, and the sounds of children playing outside was at times louder than even the buzz of hair clippers coming from the back bedroom, where his stepfather, Ricky, was cutting one of his cousins’ hair.

  “¿Dónde has estado?”

  “I’ve been where I told you I’ve been.” He tapped his knee and bent forward, looking down at the ash covered magazine on the table. Vanidades.

  “Tu padre me debe dinero.”

  “Why are you telling me that papá owes you money?” He shrugged before flopping back on the couch, his chain belt rattling as he moved. “Go take that up with him.”

  “No le hablo.”

  “Well, if you don’t call him or talk to him, then how is he supposed to know you’re hard pressed to get it?” She rolled her eyes at him as she lit a cigarette. Her hair was down to her waist now, the jet-black color streaked with silver. She seemed to have lost weight; maybe she was trying a new diet as usual, even though she’d always been petite. He’d been in the house for a little over thirty minutes, during which time all she’d done was nag and complain.

  First, he was told how he doesn’t answer his phone, or how he should train her friends’ dogs for free. Then she went into a spiel about how her car needs to be fixed, and she wished for him to buy her a new one, even though he’d just bought her the one she currently had, a blue Lexus, two years prior. She then tried to lay a guilt trip on him about Grandma’s death, when all else failed to get the reaction she so desired, harping about how he’d missed the funeral because of him being in prison. But he refused to play her games. He just sat there and yawned as she ranted. He’d hoped she’d be in better spirits, considering she was going on one of her many trips soon, but he’d been wrong.

  “When are you giving me a grandchild?” She plopped on the chair across from him. It was beige with a palm tree print, and a stain on the arm from spilled coffee. “Something wrong with you or something?” She waved her cigarette, gesturing towards his pants. “You’re thirty-one.”

  “Mamá, this is my first time in I don’t know how long being out of jail for more than four years in a row. Would you please stop naggin’ me, and just let me live my life in peace?” He took a sip of his coffee. On the screen was a ghostly pale Hispanic woman with bleach blond hair and blue contact lenses, crying and yelling in Spanish about how her husband had run off with her twin sister.

  “I have no more sons! No daughter, Dominic!” Her voice quaked as her eyes sheened over. “I only had you and Diego! Your father has many stepchildren and grandchildren, while I have nothing. I know you’re not gay, so what is going on? Are you still punishing me?”

  Many years ago, he told his mother during one of their notorious arguments that he wasn’t having children. All his friends, LK brothers his age and a bit younger, had kids. It was like a rite of passage, so he was almost like some mystical unicorn amongst his peers. Mamá had burst in tears, but he’d been adamant that though he didn’t blame her for all that had happened in his childhood, the last thing he wanted was to bring an innocent person in the world and watch them struggle and be subjected to possibly he and the child’s mother fighting day in, day out. Mamá had expressed how crushed she’d been by his words, for being a grandmother was one of her greatest aspirations.

  “Dominic, I’m speaking to you. Do you still not want children?”

  “I want them. I always wanted them. I just said I wasn’t going to have any, regardless of that.”

  “That’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make any sense!” She flailed her arms about.

  “Wanting something doesn’t mean it’s meant to be. People want things they shouldn’t have all the time.”

  She took a drag of her cigarette then smashed it out in a gray ashtray.

  “I got to get ready to go.”

  They both stood. She seemed so frail, like a tiny flower with wilted petals, but determined to hang on. He walked around the coffee table and wrapped his arms around her. She struggled a bit, being stubborn and angry, but then she laughed and hugged him back. They kissed on the cheek.

  “Say goodbye to Ricky, Carlos and Daniel for me.” He heard the buzzing still going from down the hall.

  She nodded. “Move back here… to Havana,” she said as she followed him to the front door.

  “I told you I needed some time away so I wouldn’t get into any more shit, Mamá. I don’t want to go back to prison. If I’m here, I know I’ll go back. It’s best I just come to take care of business and visit. One day I may return, but it won’t be anytime soon. Things are the way they should be for now. Besides, I’m still close.”

  “There’s a girl I want you to meet. Very pretty. She works at a coffee shop,” She pointed ahead, as if that narrowed down the location of the place. “Her name is Camila. She’s tall, like you. Nice smile. Shapely. She’s twenty-one.”

  “Too young.” He chuckled and grabbed the doorknob to exit.

  “No. It’s perfect. She’s your type!”

  “Mamá, what do you think my type is?”

  “Big boobs and booty!”

  He burst out laughing, his eyes filled with moisture. Mamá was crazy.

  “I’m serious!” She slapped his arm playfully, grinning from ear to ear. “I know what my son likes. And she’s nice.”

  “I didn’t hear anything about smart…” He toyed with her, thoroughly entertained even though he had no desire to see whoever this woman was that his mother undoubtedly believed would be her daughter-in-law.

  “Oh, but she is! I told her next time you come visit, I will have you two meet. She knows who you are.” Mamá crossed her arms, looked him up and down, and sucked her teeth.

  “Then you told her my name was Viper, instead of Dominic.” His brow raised, he waited for her to reply.

  “What can I say?” She shrugged. “Everyone knows you by that horrible name. So, will you go and meet her?”

  “Nah. I’m seeing someone, Mamá.” He opened the door all the way, and the burst of hot sun felt so good against his face.

  “Oh, well, whoever she is, she better know how to make a good cup of coffee, and how to cook for my son!” She spoke with such venom, as if blood would be shed if Majesty didn’t do such things. All he could do was laugh. He leaned in and gave her another kiss, then walked to his vehicle. “You brought out your big truck today? ¡Me encanta! Will you buy me a new car, Dominic? Come on, I brought you into the world! Do it for your mother. I deserve a new c
ar!” She hollered out, sporting a toothy grin that made her dimples stand out even more.

  “We’ll see, Mamá. We’ll see.” He got into his car, turned on the stereo, and started the engine to go pick up a dog, a Rottweiler named Ruby, that had destroyed most of the doors in her owner’s house. Maluma’s ‘11 PM’ began to play through his truck speakers. Feeling the rhythm, he slapped the steering wheel as he drove down the street. When he got to a red light, he picked up his cell phone and made a call.

  “You have reached Majesty. I can’t answer my phone right now, but please leave a brief message and I’ll get back to you. If you’re an ex, a bill collector, or trying to sell me something, no, I don’t want you back, the check is in the mail, and I don’t want your cleaning supplies, vacuum, quick cash loan, or whatever the hell it is you’re being paid to peddle. Toodles!”

  He smiled and shook his head, then spoke at the tone.

  “Hey, it’s me. I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I know this is kinda last minute, so, if you need to bring Troy, that’s cool. We’ll just go see a kid-friendly movie. Oh, and as a side note, one of the ladies up the street runs a twenty-four-hour daycare. 4.8 stars on Angie’s List, so ya know, I thought that may be an option for you sometimes since she’s so close and all. I know about it because I trained two of her dogs. Hope your day has been good. I’ll catch you later.” He disconnected the call, turned the music back up, and drove on…

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Eve in the Garden of Eden