How Can I Be Down?

by Brenda Hampton

  “See, I ain’t got time for no bullshit like this.” Quincy reached into my pocket and pulled out my gun. He aimed it at Marcus in the doorway, who was still trying to push Donovan out of the way to get back in. “Back up, fool!” Quincy yelled. “You have no idea who you fucking with!” He pulled the trigger.

  Remembering that I forgot to put the bullets back into the gun after I cleaned it yesterday, I was relieved. Donovan couldn’t hold Marcus back any longer, knowing that he was fighting for his life; we all went at it. Quincy and me rushed him. Stomped his ass right at the back door, delivering bone-crushing blows. I cracked him upside the head a few times with my cast, and I kicked his ass down the steps. For the first time in his life Donovan was trying to break us up. As long as he didn’t side with Marcus, I left his ass out of it.

  Marcus lay on his back, swaying from side to side with a mouthful of blood and promising Quincy and me we were going to die. Quincy ran down the steps, kicking Marcus in his side again to silence him. He then looked at Donovan, madder than I had ever seen him before. “This all the fuck you wanted, ain’t it? You knew better bringing a stupid-ass muh-fucker like him over here.”

  “Fuck you, Quincy,” Donovan spat. “Y’all was wrong for this shit. Give or take, I don’t know what happened, but this ain’t a good situation.”

  “Are you threatening me, you playa-hating-ass nigga?” Quincy shot back with gritted teeth, getting up in Donovan’s face.

  “Quincy!” I yelled. “Chill!”

  He looked at me, rolled his eyes, then looked back at Donovan. “Cocksucker!” he said loudly. “Answer me, fool. Was that a fucking threat I heard?”

  Donovan gave Quincy a devilish smirk. “Never, Quincy. You trippin’, dog. All I’m saying is there was a better way to handle this.” He looked down at Marcus. “Come on, man. Get up.” He walked over to Marcus and helped him off the ground. Marcus held his side and him and Donovan walked off.

  Quincy stood there with his white wife beater on and cargo shorts hanging down low. He stared at them until they drove off from behind the house. When he came to the back door, he pushed it and walked past me, not saying a word.

  I drummed up a li’l something for me to eat and tried to give Quincy time to cool off. I was thinking how glad I was Kareem wasn’t around because shit would have really gotten out of hand. Not sure by how much, but I was sure it wouldn’t have been pretty.

  Feeling a bit sore from fighting, I ran some bath water and sank myself deep down inside the tub. As I started to drift off, the phone rang. I knew Quincy wasn’t going to answer it, so I got out of the tub to get it, since whoever it was kept hanging up and calling right back. When I looked at the caller ID, it showed a telephone number I didn’t recognize. Normally, I wouldn’t answer but since they kept on calling back I did.

  “Yeah,” I said, disguising my voice. There was silence. “Hello?” Whoever it was hung up.

  I got back into the tub, but this time I took the cordless phone with me. And sure enough, the phone rang again. This time I picked it up and didn’t say anything.

  “Kiley,” Donovan said.

  “What’s up?”

  “That was me who just called. I couldn’t hear you so I hung up and called back.”

  “Uh-hm. Ain’t no trip. I just thought you were someone else.”

  “Naw, listen, I wanted to apologize for today. I never would have brought Marcus over there if I thought he was going to be trippin’ like that. After he told me how shit got heated with him and Quincy, I made it clear to him that he was in the wrong.”

  “That’s cool. Just next time you come, come alone. I don’t trust those niggas you be hanging out with. And if they trippin’ like that, you should be a li’l leery your damn self.”

  “You know me. I’ll definitely watch my back. Do me a favor though and tell Quincy I apologize if he felt like I dissed him. I was just trying to keep the peace.”

  “Will do. And call me later in the week so we can make arrangements for the rest of your things, especially your furniture. You might need to get a truck to pick that up.”

  “I’ll call you by the weekend, all right?”

  “Cool. Deuces, man.”

  After relaxing in the tub for about an hour I got out, put some clothes on, and went upstairs to talk to Quincy. I could hear him laughing, and by the time I got there, he was rolling around on the floor cracking up at Cedric the Entertainer.

  “Is it that funny you got to be on the floor trying to catch your breath?”

  “Yeah, man. He fucked me up talking about the chicken wings at Church’s Chicken.”

  “Is this your first time watching that?”

  “Yeah. Kareem told me to watch it before but I never got around to it.” Quincy got up off the floor and sat back down on the couch.

  “Where Kareem at anyway? Did he mention to you where he was going?”

  “Nope. It is getting late though. You might want to hit him on his cell phone.”

  I picked up the phone and dialed his number. He didn’t answer, so I called him back a few more times just in case his phone was trippin’ like mine always does. Just when I was about to hang up, this chick answered his phone.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “This is Felicia. And who is this?”

  “It’s Kiley. Is Kareem there?”

  “Yeah, but he asleep.”

  “Wake him up for me.”

  “He told me not to.”

  “If he knows it’s me he’ll wake up. So, take the phone to him and stop wasting my time.”

  “Hold on,” she said with an attitude. After a few minutes Kareem answered the phone.

  “What’s up?” he asked, sounding irritated. “Hold on, Kiley. I told you don’t be answering my damn phone to begin with. That’s your problem now, you just don’t know how to listen to me when I tell you something!” he yelled. “All right, I’m back.”

  “Is everything cool?”

  “Hell, naw. Felicia be trippin’. She always trying to find out something. Sneaking into the other room, answering my phone. Shit be pissing me off.”

  “Damn, I was just calling to check on you and tell you about the fight you missed today.”

  “Fight? What fight?”

  “Between Quincy, me, and one of Donovan’s boys.”

  “Whaaat! I’m on my way home. I can’t wait to hear about this shit.”

  “Bye, fool,” I said, hanging up the phone.

  For some reason Quincy seemed like he was still a bit bothered by what happened earlier. I started watching the comedy show with him, but quickly kicked up a conversation so he would talk about it.

  “Say, Donovan called a bit ago. Told me to tell you he was sorry for the way shit went down.”

  Quincy cut his eyes. “Uh-hm, I’m sure he is.” He turned his head back toward the TV.

  “What happened between you and Marcus anyway? You never told me what really went down.”

  “He just disrespected me, man, that’s all.”

  “Disrespected you how?”

  “You know, the usual white boy jokes. I get sick and tired of hearing that shit. Why must shit always have to be about black and white? Why muh-fuckers can’t just let you be who the fuck you wanna be? I hate that shit. I wish God just made everybody the same damn color. That way most of this racism shit wouldn’t even exist. Maybe then we would all be one big happy fucking family.”

  “If we were all the same color, people would have something else to judge you by. You can’t let that kind of shit keep upsetting you. How do you think I feel being out there in the real world? Black man like myself don’t stand a chance. Now, people will tell you all that fake bullshit about living right and doing the right things, but I watched my father struggle for a long time before he got off into the game. Before that, he didn’t get a fucking thing in return but a stab in the back from my mother and a layoff by the white man. When he started doing shit for himself, that’s when good fortune happened for us. Sor
ry, but it just had to be that way. I have no regrets living how I’m living and if anybody don’t like it, fuck ’em.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but this is something totally different. True enough, I’m white. I know it, and I’m not trying to hide it. It’s harder for me because people be acting like it’s a crime for a white boy to listen to rap music, or to wear his pants hanging, or wear a bandana on his head. To me, if I like the flavor of rap, if I like wearing baggy clothes, then I should be able to do it without anyone trippin’ with me like that. It doesn’t mean I’m trying to be black; I’m just trying to be me. So anybody who step to me with that ‘how does it feel wanting to be black’ bullshit and don’t know shit about me, I’m gonna fuck ’em up, no doubt about it.”

  Knowing somewhat how Quincy was feeling, I went over to the bar and poured him and me a glass of cognac. I continued our conversation from across the room. “Q, you can’t fight with everybody who steps to you that way. There are a lot of people who feel like that. You just got to let that shit roll off your back and move on. You know damn well what you stand for. When you start fighting over it all the time, that’s when you start losing yourself. Maybe feeling like you’re the one out of place, when in reality they’re the ones who need to regroup and recognize.”

  “I guess you’re right. I thought about that shit after the fact, but it was too late then.”

  “I thought about it too,” I said, walking over handing him a glass. “Thought about how we kicked that son of a bitch’s ass. I forgot you had it in you like that. Since we left L.A., you really haven’t had to get down like that, have you?”

  Quincy gulped down his cognac and put the glass on the table. “No, I haven’t. But you weren’t short-stopping either. That karate kicking bullshit you do can break a brotha’s back, can’t it?

  “No doubt. Actually, if I kick ’em in the right spot it could end a nigga’s life.”

  “Whew, I have no doubt. Did Donovan say he took that fool to the hospital? After that ass kicking, I’m sure he needed one.”

  “He didn’t say, but I’m sure he needed one too.” Quincy and me laughed; then we heard the back door close. I knew it was Kareem ’cause I could hear him singing while coming up the steps.

  “Whazzz up?” he said, slow dancing with himself singing a rap song by Nelly. He stopped singing when he got to the couch, plopped down, and immediately pulled a joint out of his pocket. He looked at Quincy and me before he lit it and frowned. “I don’t see no bruises, so it couldn’t have been a good fight.”

  “Aw, it was a good one,” I confirmed. “Would you like for me to tell you how good it was?”

  “Yes, my brotha, how good was it?” Kareem said.

  “So good that Quincy called the playa a nigga.”

  “No fucking way!” Kareem yelled. He looked at Quincy. “You actually were that upset that you used the ‘N’ word?”

  Quincy smiled. “Yeah, man. I was that upset. I didn’t mean to disrespect nobody ’cause I know how sensitive y’all get by that shit, but he pushed me to the edge.”

  “Whew, I’m glad I wasn’t that fool. Did an ambulance have to come get ’em like the last time he used the ‘N’ word?”

  “Nope,” I said. “Not this time, but trust me, he needed one.”

  “Um, um, um, sholl hate I missed out on that one. Even Felicia’s good blow job couldn’t top that shit.”

  “No, I’m afraid not. Not even Jada’s.”

  We all laughed and continued talking. Afterward, I remembered that I’d forgotten to put the bullets back into my gun, and before I did anything else, I went to go load it.

  I thought about going to see Ginger, then quickly changed my mind. Instead, the fellas and me kicked up a card game and stayed up all night playing and smoking blunts.

  CHAPTER 11

  I hadn’t heard from Jada or Ginger since earlier in the week. I knew Ginger was probably expecting to hear from me on the weekend, but I remembered she said Desmon was going to her mother’s house so there was no need for me to call. Jada, I wasn’t sure if she was still in town or not. The last time we spoke she said she was outtie and a part of me really hoped she was. And as for Candi, even she had backed off a little. After I lied and told her I was trying to work things out with Jada, she was kinda upset with me. Told me I didn’t know what I was missing. Maybe I was missing out. Then again, maybe I wasn’t. Either way, she wasn’t getting in my circle anytime soon. Fucked me up, too, ’cause I was getting extremely horny not having any pussy around. Kareem and Quincy had been in and out all week with females, but all I had were memories. Memories of how Jada and me used to get down. Thinking about how easily she could make my dick rise just by looking at her read a book or by standing in the kitchen in her silky nightgown cooking breakfast. I missed the shit out of her; but I sure in the hell didn’t miss her loud, sassy-ass voice.

  Trying to get my mind off her, I picked the phone up and called Ginger to see if she would be willing to cut a brotha some slack. When she answered with an attitude, I figured I was just wasting my time.

  “What’s Desmon been up to?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Ginger, you know he’s been up to something. You said yourself he’s quite a monster.”

  “I said nothing.”

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No, not at all. Just sitting here all by myself, thinking about how stupid I am for loving somebody who don’t give a damn about me.”

  “Damn, he should be ashamed of himself for not loving a woman like you.”

  “Yeah, you should be. And you should also be ashamed of yourself calling here pretending like everything’s cool between us.”

  “It is cool, Ginger. Why hold grudges, baby? I don’t.”

  “Well, if you don’t then why haven’t you come over here to see me? And, why are you just now calling?”

  “Because I wanted to give you time to cool off.”

  “Okay, now what? I’ve cooled off, so come see me tonight.”

  “Nope, can’t do that.”

  “And why not?”

  “Because you want me to come fuck you. If I fuck you and leave, your feelings are going to be hurt. Then I’ll have to listen to what I’m listening to now over and over again. Sorry, but I don’t want to keep setting myself up like that.”

  “Setting yourself up for what? And what makes you think I want you to come fuck me?”

  “Because.”

  “Because what?”

  “Be quiet and listen.” I paused. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “Your pussy calling my name.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. And you wanna know how I know it is?”

  “How?”

  “Because my dick don’t get hard unless it can hear it. And right about now, I’m hearing it.”

  She laughed. “You are so crazy. If that’s the case, why don’t you just come over?”

  “Cause I just told you I couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, I told you. You want me to fuck you and I can’t.”

  Ginger and me laughed, going back in forth about why I didn’t want to have sex with her. Bottom line: I told her the fellas and me were going out tonight and I’d catch up with her some other time. She thought I was lying, especially when I told her I hadn’t been clubbing since I met her. Truthfully, I hadn’t. Somehow Kareem and Quincy coaxed me into going out with them, and when I tried to back out they dissed the hell out of me.

  By midnight we were getting dressed for a “night of adventure,” Kareem continuously stressed. He was like a kid in a candy store, excited about me finally going out with Quincy and him. When I asked what club we were going to, they insisted we kick it on the east side since the clubs in St. Louis closed up too early. And when Quincy mentioned Club Illusion, I only hoped that I wouldn’t see Ginger.

  Not wanting to look like a fool, I cut through the cast on
my arm with a hunting knife and took it off. I wrapped it with a bandage and called it a day. We were spiffed up and ready to leave by one-thirty in the morning. Since it was pretty cold outside, Kareem wore jeans and a cashmere sweater, I wore all black, and Quincy stuck to jeans and Timberlands. All in all, we had it going on.

  As I got off at the Fourth Street exit to East St. Louis, the cars and the Metrolink passed by backed-up traffic. We crawled our way through the crowded streets, trying to find a parking spot. Young niggas were hanging out up and down the strip, trying to rush through traffic faster than everybody else. I was trying not to trip, but the Lexus was inches away from being hit several times.

  I was relieved when we finally found a parking spot. After taking a few puffs from a joint, we popped some gum in our mouths and got ready for some action. No sooner had we hit the door, Kareem and Quincy was already macking. They’d already gotten to know plenty of ladies, so it wasn’t hard for them to keep occupied. The club was crammed like sardines. Instead of standing around looking at the two of them in action, I went to the bar and ordered a shot of cognac. As I waited for the bartender to pour my drink, I scoped the room checking out the ladies. Surprisingly, most of them looked decent. I’d peeped out a couple of them I wouldn’t mind going home with.

  But before I could pay the waiter for my drink, I looked up and saw Candi walking through the door. She was looking drop-dead delicious. Had on a silky gold strapless short dress that clung to the curves on her body. It showed the thickness in her dark brown shiny thighs, and her nipples clearly poked through. Her six-inch gold silk shoes were strapped up to her ankles, and as she sauntered through the crowd the fellas were going crazy. I turned my head when she strolled by and got a quick glimpse of her beautifully curved heart-shaped ass. All I could do was think what a fool I was for not hitting that. Brotha would die to have a woman like that blowing his phone up begging for a fuck.

  As I stood sipping on my drink, I was playing off any-and everything that stepped my way. Most of the women were cool, but I was trying to check out the set before I made my move. One chick had the nerve to roll her eyes at me when I told her I didn’t feel like dancing. And when she walked off, I saw her ask her girlfriend to come ask me to see if I had changed my mind. After I said no to her,