by Tiana Laveen
“Next weekend? Why so soon? I ain’t even met the man!”
“Mama, it’s not too soon at all. You have to take care of these things in advance. The wedding is ten months away. That’s actually not a whole lot of time when it comes to planning such an event in the city. I can’t wait until the last minute to get a dress, you know that.”
“But I ain’t even met the man!” she repeated. “Your brother said he’s some singer. Guilty.”
“Gutter… his name is Gutter.”
“Is he White? Please tell me Westley was lyin’, Promise! He’s just light skinned, right?”
She rolled her eyes as she moved fast, navigating the morning rush crowd.
“Yes, he’s White. So what?” She stopped herself from saying more about it, though it was tempting. “And as far as you not meeting him before now, that was your choice, remember? For some reason, you’ve been ducking and dodging it. He doesn’t have a bunch of expendable time. Zake is extremely busy, but he was making time for you each and every chance he got, only to be blown off. So please don’t play the victim. Let’s just get past this, meet up, and take it from here.”
“This is just some sneaky mess you’re trying to pull, Promise.”
“Sneaky mess? Now why would I want to keep my fiancé away from you? I have tried seven times already to get you to meet Zake. You’re the one dragging your feet… Damn, the fire truck is racing down the street. I hope whatever is going on, the people are okay,” she murmured. “Are you coming to help me pick out a dress and bridesmaid’s dresses at Grace Loves Lace or not, Mama? I really want you there, and I have an appointment.”
“This Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“All right, I’ll come.”
It was obvious Mama was in some kind of emotional rut, perhaps depression, so hopefully this excursion for one of the happiest times of Promise’s life would help pull her out of it.
“Great! I’m so excited! You’re going to have a good time. They have wine, appetizers, and you can help me pick out my dress. I can’t wait to see you, and are you okay with maybe meeting Zake afterwards?”
“I still can’t get over that this boy’s name is Zake. Is that just a stage name, too?”
“Zake is his birth name. Gutter is his stage name.”
“Now what boy would wanna be named Zake? Why would his mother do him like that?”
“This coming from the woman who named my brother Westley Gus. You know he hates his name, especially his middle name. Sounds like something you’d call some old bowlegged, scheming cowboy trying to swindle people out of their gold and moonshine in the saloon!”
Mama giggled on the other end, making her laugh, too.
“Girl, you are so silly!” she cackled. “I like the name Westley, and he’s named after his father. Gus… well, that was his grandmother’s doing. I wasn’t too fond of it, either, but your daddy wanted that. All right,” the older woman said with a heavy sigh. “I’ll meet Zake if he has the time.”
“Perfect. I’ll get it arranged. Mama, I’m like 30 seconds away from walking into work, so let me call you back later tonight.”
“All right. Have a good day, baby.”
“You too. Love you.”
She ended the call, her mood uplifted, took a sip of her drink, and opened the front door of the funeral home.
“Hey, Deborah,” she called out with a wave. Deborah worked in accounting and always had a cheery disposition, but this time, the woman looked away, without as much as a word.
That’s strange. Hmmm. Maybe she’s not feeling well. She shrugged it off, continuing towards the reception area. People were standing around the reception desk, which was odd within itself, and it was unnervingly quiet. No chatter, no sounds of the elevator going up and down, people running up the steps, laughter—nothing. Suddenly, all eyes fixed on her. Some people looked worried, others had unmistakable smirks. One person even burst out laughing, then ducked, as if trying to control their giggles from being heard and seen.
“Good morning, everyone. Is something going on?” She was betting on some nibble of salacious gossip they’d gotten a hold of, the water-cooler kind that grated her nerves. Jason, one of the guys in marketing, opened his mouth to speak, but then, she saw something out of the corner of her eye and set her cup on the reception desk. On all of the windows were taped-up cut-outs, papers, or perhaps posters.
“What is all of that?”
No one answered.
Not able to quite make it out, she drew closer.
“Promise… Promise!” someone called out to her, but she kept walking until she was in the back of the lobby area. Placing a trembling hand to her mouth, her eyes brimmed with tears.
There, all over the wall, were print-outs of her—still shots from those movies she’d performed in so long ago. One was blown up so large, it was practically pixelated. One showed her performing fellatio, another showcased her on all fours with two men having sex with her. Another was a close-up shot of her faking an orgasm. Tears trickled her cheeks as she simply stood there, looking all around at the pictures of a woman she no longer knew. Dead eyes. Broken spirit. An emotionally bruised shell of her former herself, a desperate woman she longed to forgive and forget.
Her stomach knotted and cramped so badly, she feared she might vomit. She turned away from the dreadful crude images, crying her eyes out, and burst through the gawking crowd. She spun past them in a whirlwind, erupted out the front door, and ran as fast as she could. The sounds of honking cars and bellowing chipper music from taxis pierced her brain as she bumped into people on the sidewalk, almost knocking their briefcases and purses out of their hands. Some yelled at her, but she didn’t care what anyone said. She had to get away. She was on the run.
She had no idea where she was going, as long as it was far away from there.
After an eternity, she slowed until she came to a complete stop. Her chest burned from the rapid sprint, her heart beating damn near out of her chest. She placed her hand on that spot and looked down at the littered sidewalk. It was hard enough to keep standing because her body felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her by an invisible force. Time passed. She had no idea how much.
No, you’re not about to fall apart. Pull it together. You’re not about to let anyone run you out of there crying, with your tail between your legs. You’ve worked your ass off to build this career. Nobody in there is worth all of this. GO. BACK. NOW.
After a couple of long, deep breaths, she turned around, walked back, and then calmly entered the funeral home. As she approached the scene of the crime, she spotted several women, fellow employees, removing the pictures. One peeked at her and offered a faint smile. They pulled pieces of tape from the glass and walls, placing the explicit photos in a large garbage bag. At the reception area, the crowd was smaller than when she’d first arrived, but a good number of coworkers lingered there. The members of the gossip arena stared at her. No one said a word.
“Where the hell is Daniel?”
“I don’t know. Why?” Chelsea, one of the graphic designers, muttered.
“Where is Rebecca?” Promise questioned, ignoring Chelsea’s intrusive question.
“She’s on her way in,” Abby replied.
Whipping out her phone, Promise called her boss.
“Hi, Promise. How are you? You usually don’t call me this early. You must want coffee,” the woman teased.
“Rebecca, I hope you’re about to walk inside those doors at any second now, because we have an urgent situation here at work that needs your attention, ASAP.”
“Oh, is there a—”
“No. Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. Please hurry before I beat the brakes off of someone. Please and thank you.” She quickly ended the call and looked around at everyone.
Someone burst out laughing, then another, and another.
“Y’all are some miserable, hateful sons of bitches.” She heard gasps, and people trying to come for her, but she cu
t them off with the quickness. “You stood here, let that shit stay up there for God knows how long.” She pointed in the direction of the distasteful hodgepodge of pornographic prints. “You waited around just to see my reaction when I walked up in here. I’m surprised you didn’t have popcorn so you could really enjoy the show.”
“Now, Promise, I know you’re upset, but that’s not true. I have no idea who put those photos in the lobby windows. Many of us got here literally right before you did. We’re just as confused as you,” Mary stated, a woman who handled collections part-time, a job she wasn’t even certain was needed.
“I don’t give a damn. That’s not the point. I asked what the hell was going on, and instead of taking me to the side, trying to help take this mess down before visitors start to arrive, you let me walk down there and face the music.” She pointed in the direction of the women who were finishing up removing the images. “Only one person tried to stop me, but not very hard. Y’all live for shit like this.”
“Is that you? It sure looks like you,” DeMarcus, one of the custodians spoke up, a sleazy grin on his face.
“No, DeMarcus. I’m just mad about some random woman who looks so much like me, she could practically be my twin, being posted all over the windows of my place of business. Butt naked. You know damn well who it is, dumb ass! I hope you got an eyeful,” she sneered. “You’re not about to stand here and try to make a fool out of me.”
He sucked his teeth and turned away.
“You made a fool out of yourself,” someone chuckled. She couldn’t tell who.
“I was very young when this happened, as if it’s anyone’s business here, and as if none of y’all ever made a mistake and regretted it. It’s nice to know I’m working with priests, angels, and nuns, that you’re titillated and trying to make a joke out of something as serious and emotionally devastating as this. Good job!” She clapped. “What a stand-up bunch! Nothing but a bunch of drama kings and queens is what y’all are. You would think you’d have more appreciation for life, since we work in the field of death day in, day out. You would think you’d want to make better use of your time, knowing that tomorrow is not promised to any of us.
“We have babies coming in here to be buried, and little children, dressed in their little tuxedos and gowns, showing up to pay their final respects. Kids who have lost their mothers and fathers and are trying to understand why Daddy is never coming home again. There are people who have finally turned their life around after a hard time of it, only to have it snuffed out due to a sudden tragedy. We see it every damn day. It’s a painful reality of what’s going on in the world. I chose this profession initially because I needed to. I stayed in it because I love what I do, and I love these families! It’s a damn shame that all some of you could do is be obsessed about my love life, wondering how much I get paid, how I can afford my coats, purses, or shoes. You’re crabs in a barrel. Bottom feeders!”
“Promise, you have no right to speak to us this way. We were just standing here. Take it out on yourself, or whoever took the photos, or videos, or whatever the hell they are.” Hellen waved her hand lazily about, sarcasm in her tone. “The person to blame for this is you. If anything, you should be apologizing to us for having to see this.”
“Ahhh, if it isn’t ol’ hatin’ ass, Mt. Hellen! I’m the victim here, not the villain. This is unlawful! Your name should be Karen. You haven’t liked me since the day Rebecca took me under her wing. You were pissed she had chosen me to groom, to follow in her footsteps, over you! She didn’t want some cold, lame fish being the face of this family business! You have no empathy. You are not sympathetic. You are far from intelligent, and definitely not intuitive! You cannot keep records straight. You are unorganized to a fault. Lazy. Trifling and untrustworthy. You don’t meet deadlines. You’re unreliable. Always late and have an excuse for everything! Did I mention, rude as fuck!”
“Ohhh, shit!” someone cackled. “Promise goin’ off!”
“Promise, I will be telling Rebecca about this as soon as she gets here!”
“No need, I’ve got you covered. I’m recording everything!” She waved her phone around then dumped it back inside of her purse. “She chose the talent over the race. The skills over the White sisterhood you believed trumped all, and it ate you up!”
“You’re crazy!” The woman held herself as people glanced her way, obviously unnerved about the accusations.
“That’s right! I said it! You can call me crazy, but I’m right, and you know it. I am so sick and tired of y’all shit!” She looked around the room and gestured to several in the crowd. “This was long overdue to come out. I have a message for each and every one of you, spillin’ a little tea since you want the 411, the chin wag! I’m the assistant director, second in command! Put some respect on my mothafuckin’ name!” She pointed at her chest. “You would think I worked for y’all instead. I work circles around each and every one of you up in here, but instead of putting in the work to get on my level, you want to talk shit, kee-kee, and watch someone get crushed by a cruel, and might I add, criminal act.”
She began to count off her fingers.
“I have to do accounting half the time up in this bitch. Fill out reports that aren’t even my job to handle. Every time I turn around, one of y’all motherfuckers that are supposed to do customer service are on a two-hour lunch break. I’m doing marketing for you lazy bastards who won’t handle your calls, follow up with leads, and check the damn website for inquiries. I’m doing counselling because Janet’s ass is barely here, but she’s on salary, so she doesn’t care. Then I am stuck holding the bag, talking about the five stages of grief to someone who just lost their teenage child over some bullshit bullying mess online. I’m one of three Black women on the payroll here, and every day, in some shape or form, I am reminded of that. I have to work ten times as hard as you. How dare you, mothafuckas!”
“Promise, that’s enough.” Vicki, the pie-faced HR Director approached, posing like she was the shit. Adjusting her glasses, she glared at Promise as if she wanted to battle to the death. “You’re angry and taking it out on us. Your language is highly inappropriate, the swearing especially, and I am quite honestly disturbed by your unprofessionalism right now. That’s so unlike you. We didn’t do this, okay? We didn’t put up that stuff. We’re not responsible for whatever… issues you had,” She looked her up and down, judgment dripping in her gaze. “I’m sorry that you are embarrassed, I can understand why, but this isn’t the way to deal with this matter. Those are unfortunate photos to say the least.”
“An unfortunate photo of you was taken too, Vicki. Would you like to guess when? It was every time you had your picture taken in your entire lifetime, you goat-mouthed bitch.”
“Promise!” Abby exclaimed.
“Oh, shut up! This heffa is standin’ here, the HR Director of all people, more concerned about swear words than the fact that someone here decided it was all right to plaster this shit around the lobby! Every single one of you talks crap behind Vicki’s back, saying how stodgy and mean she is, and now you want to act all offended, clutching your pearls and appalled because I’ve told the truth. Yes, the truth! The truth is that that’s me in those pictures, and also that notta one of you in here has a soul! I am calling everyone out because if I can be plastered naked, and you all get your shits and giggles because of it, rejoicing in my public humiliation, then I’m going out of here blazing!”
“You’re only hurting yourself,” Vicki commented.
“I’m not hurting me, and you can’t hurt me, either! None of you can! I’ve been through more hell and shit than any of you could imagine, and I’m still standing! God is my salvation! Ten toes down! I’d rather be in one of those damn refrigerators in our morgue waiting for my burial than be some of y’all. Wretched asses. And that’s on everything.” People began to bristle up and curse. Some walked away, shocked and outraged, for their poor virgin ears couldn’t withstand another word of it. “And you’re damn right I’m mad. Fo
r years, you’ve mistaken my kindness for weakness. My professionalism was mentioned. What audacity. You’d have to be a fool to expect me to respond differently, after how this was handled.”
“Promise, I’m sorry this happened. I am.” One of the women who was taking the pictures down approached her, tears in her eyes. Promise however kept her gaze fixed on the others, still getting off on her pain.
“I have bent over backwards to help most of you in here, and you’ve done nothing but undermine me, backstab me when I got promoted by spreading lies and rumors, called me Rebecca’s little lap dog, and then tried to throw me under the bus because of Daniel, of all people! All you women in here fawning over his ass are goofy. He wanted me. I never wanted him. I have heard the shit y’all been saying behind my back. That you think I’m better than everyone else now because I’m engaged to Gutter… a bunch of bull! You know damn well I act the exact same way I did a year ago, and a year before that. It’s y’all that are fake! I don’t have a phony bone in my body!”
Someone touched her gently on the arm, trying to pull her away. She jerked herself free and yelled towards the stairway.
“Daniel! I’m going to kick your ass! You wanted to get in my pants. Well, let’s tussle! Baby, I took self-defense years ago, and I’m ready to use it!” She flung her purse on the ground, grabbed a plant, and threw it across the room, making a few people duck and dodge. The thing hit the wall and smashed to pieces. “I know he is responsible for this. DANIEL! GET YO’ MOTHAFUCKIN’ RAGGEDY ASS DOWN HERE, YOU COWARD!” she roared.
“Somebody get security… get security, please!”
“You damn sure better call security because I’m going to jail today, baby. Try Jesus, not me. He’ll save you; I’ll berate you, that’s a guarantee! Y’all want to see a movie so bad? See me in action, huh? Want to see me show off my acting chops? Well, buckle up, honey! This show is going to be a thriller. You better fucking believe it. DANIEL! Bring your El DeBarge lookin’ ass to ME!”
