by Tiana Laveen
“You see how fucking tall I am…” He laughed mirthlessly. “I was going through shoes faster than rain falls from the sky. My mama couldn’t keep up with that. Everything on me was far more expensive because I was taller than most of my peers. One time I remember walking to school and feeling wetness on the bottom of my foot because the sole was so worn out, my skin was completely exposed, and I didn’t even know it until the rain came… It was real cold, too. I ended up getting frostbite.”
Paris tilted her head to the right, and her eyes glossed over as she reached for his nervous, tapping fingers.
“So, anyway, that’s just how it was. I knew there had to be something better. I was a bit naïve though, so when I got to California, this place was like a whole ’nother world to me. I was fifteen, but acted probably ten or twelve and by the time I was here a year, Paris, I had aged ten years. I saw so much in that short period of time, I had no choice but to grow up.” He touched his chest earnestly. “I’d been robbed, mugged, beaten up. I never told my father, because I was so afraid he’d think I was some pussy. I wanted to act like a man around him. I really looked up to him, you know? He had a bunch of women, nice looking women, too. He had a lot of money, too, and I didn’t have to worry about shit anymore. Even better, he and I got along really well. We rarely argued. I was so much like him, I hated that my mother hadn’t let me visit him earlier in my life. Instead, she kept me tied to her in that depressing little house.
Dad was in prison anyway…wouldn’t have worked out…
“So, Paris.” He clasped his hands, “All in all, that’s what I came from. I am the son of an egotistical, somewhat confused, pretty boy pimp and a psychotic, emotionally deranged mother who despite all of that, in some twisted way—they both loved me.
“You know they say all pimps have mother issues.” She looked at him with a keen eye, pushing, pulling, going where he had the door sealed, fastened, glued and nailed shut.
He shrugged, took a sip of his coffee and placed it back down.
“I believe that is more true than false.” She offered as she continued to probe.
“Hell, maybe we do.” He sucked his teeth and shrugged. “It would make sense. Our first time dealing with a woman is with our mothers, you know? If she fucks up, that sets the bar in a young boy’s mind. The only problem is, if you don’t know she’s messed up, then your thinking gets kind of warped.” He made a circular motion close to his head, as if he were confessing to being psycho. “I’ll be the first to admit to you that I’m fucked up, Paris.” He chuckled sadly before looking away, feeling vulnerable. He hated that. He was making himself ill and if he saw his reflection in the window, he’d be tempted to bust it out with his bare fists.
“Why don’t you take a minute or two, or we can stop talking about it altogether…” She rested her hand completely on his, so in tune with him, compassion in her eyes. She could certainly sense he wasn’t digging this part of the conversation. Matter of fact, his spine seemed to lock up, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear into his own worthless self, like a turtle inside of its safe shell.
“Nah, nah, I’m going to finish… I’m going to finish because I love you.”
He didn’t miss the way her cheeks warmed with color as he uttered those words. He was determined to see this through to the end. He wanted this woman; they’d made a commitment to one another. Now was the time to be honest, before he was in so much deeper, to the point that it would hurt all the more if she pulled away.
“You asked.” He paused, worked through his thoughts. “So I’m going to give you what you want.”
“Okay…” She ran her hands over his a bit more. “I’m still listening, baby.”
“Paris, I’m going to tell you some things now, some things I have never told anyone else. Because you’re worth it.”
He immediately noticed a sad smile crease her face as she slowly nodded.
He looked at her sternly, knowing that what he was about to say may drive her away, give her nausea to the point she’d throw herself right out the restaurant doors, far, far away from him. He himself was barely able to stomach it, and he’d much rather forget…
“Some things happened to me as a child that were beyond comprehension for most,” he murmured, avoiding eye contact with her.
“What happened, baby?” She gripped his hand a bit tighter.
“A lot.” A puff of sorrow-filled laughter escaped the side of his mouth like a thin whisper of vapor.
“Okay…” She leaned in closer, her dark eyes almost hypnotizing him. “A lot happened you say, well, we can sit here all damn day and night. I’m not going anywhere. Start from the beginning, the very top, and work your way down…”
Just like what Emperor said…
His heart squeezed in his chest.
“Can you take it, Paris? Can you sit here with me for a bit, and do this? Are you going to freak the fuck out on me? Go run and tell my business, make a fucking fool of me?!” He wanted to know before he opened up, let all the ugly truth pour out. His eyes narrowed on her, and he gripped her hands harder, letting her know that if she fucked him over, he may never recover. He’d never let a woman this close to him before, but it was happening, right here and now.
“Smoke, I’ve seen and heard a lot in my lifetime. I was born ready and you’ve lost your damn mind if you think you’re going to scare me away because of some shit that happened to you as a kid. I’m your woman; we’re in this together. You’ve got this, and you’ve got me…”
He swallowed and took a moment, then with her hand gripping his like a vise, he began his story…
“Here is what happened…” His voice cracked as he offered a forced smile, looking down at the table and beyond—down at the hell he was sinking in. It hurt like hell! His stomach folded and roiled as queasiness took over…and then he began, just like she’d asked, telling the tale from its sordid beginning, detail by horrid detail, without stopping.
When he was finished, her mouth hung open, her eyes glassy, reflective like wine bottles, and if he’d seen right, she shook in her seat a time or two.
“Oh, dear God…” Sighing, she fell back in her booth seat, as if the life had been knocked clean out of her.
“Yeah, dear God…” He sucked his teeth, emitted a small whisper of laughter and rolled his eyes in revulsion. “God let it happen. Where was this wonderful God so many speak about?” His eyes narrowed as he fought to escape his emotions, but he simply couldn’t. “He didn’t stop it, didn’t intervene, save nor protect me. And I’m supposed to believe God is real. If He is, He can’t be worth much to let some fucked up shit like that happen!”
He could see on Paris’ face she was not only shocked, but disgusted. A part of him wondered if she was repulsed by him now, too…
“Okay, okay…” She closed her eyes and shook her head as if needing a moment her damn self. “I need to tell you how sorry I am this happened to you, Smoke. I had no idea, but like so many of us that do what we do, I am able to recognize this sort of shit you’re talking about is probably more common than not with people in your line of work…our line of work.”
He swallowed harshly and nodded in agreement as he pushed his plate away, his appetite gone.
“You know what, Pussycat?”
“What?”
“You didn’t run. I want to thank you for not making me feel like some damn freak.”
“I would never do that to you, Smoke.” She stroked his hand. “God made you a survivor, despite what you believe, baby.”
Fuck God! he yelled in his head, but didn’t have the courage to spew his hatred in front of Paris. Inside though, if this God really existed, he wanted him to hear what he thought, and what he had to say about His so-called love and omnipotence.
“You know what’s strange to me, Smoke?” She suddenly looked away from him, now clutching his fingers so tightly he thought she’d break them. He looked a bit closer at her, noticing her eyes were brimming with tears. “What’s st
range is that the world doesn’t see us as people.” She looked up at him, their eyes meeting and locking, sharing twin tortured souls, taking one another in. Tears rolled down her cheeks like freshly fallen rain. “We’re just things. Dirty things, doing dirty shit… We’re the nastiness in the world, the unfit, unclean, they say.
“We’ve got hearts, we’re people, just like everyone else! We have families, concerns, worries, aspirations, all of that. And here you sit, showing your humanity, showing me the real Smoke, the man behind the name. I don’t believe any other pimp would admit what you just shared, especially with a woman they were trying to impress. It takes a real man to stand up and say, ‘Some real foul shit happened to me, and it messed up my mind, ruined my childhood.’ You’re a real man, an alpha, and Smoke, it makes me love you all the more. I did the right thing by taking a chance on you. I believe we were meant to share this time together. You’re doing something to me, not sure how to articulate it, but I like it.”
Unable to control himself, he tugged at her arms, drawing her closer from across the table, and locked his lips with hers. They shared a passionate kiss flavored with sweet syrup and strong coffee. Her wet face bumped ever so slightly against his, transferring her tears to his cheekbones. He refused to cry in front of the woman, but at least this way, when she did, so did he in a way, too…
*
AUTUMN WAS PARTICULARLY tough for Paris. This time of the year reminded her when her mother was born, and when she died. Matter of fact, Laura had missed her date of birth by only one day before telling the world goodbye. It was hard to stay depressed for too long though, because Smoke’s goofy ass had her in stitches. They sat in the movie theater, hand in hand, while a silly comedy played on the big screen. Steve Carell was giving it his best, and the other actors and actresses held their own, not leaving her the least bit surprised as to why the film was doing so well at the box office. She hadn’t been to the movies in years, and when he’d invited her, it seemed such a foreign concept, she wasn’t even certain how to respond.
No man had ever asked her out to eat, to see a play, or enjoy a riveting comedy club. She was asked for one thing and one thing only, to give up her body for cash, time and again. Nothing more. Nothing less. This was brand new, like the shit she’d read about, the lives of other women that she never believed she’d have, let alone allow, as long as she stayed on the face of the Earth.
What she appreciated most was seeing the man, who dwelled inside of her heart, let loose and laugh. She’d never heard him laugh that loud before, and he at times had tears in his eyes, sparkling at the corners. Their partially empty bucket of popcorn sat between them on the floor, but their butter-coated fingers remained intertwined.
“Ahhhhhhhahahaha!” His head fell back as his eyes twinkled with a fresh set of tears from the fun of it all. At that moment, she was living vicariously through him. They’d been together every chance they got, and what amazed her was, despite the delicate nature of their situation, he wasn’t trying to hide her from the world. He reached for her hand in public, and kissed her, too. He’d even brought her over to his ho house, not giving any fucks whatsoever what his stable may have said—but as soon as she entered, Felicia stormed right out as if the place were on fire. Smoke called out to her, but she didn’t acknowledge him at all. He then told her, pulling her aside from earshot, that Felicia had given him an ultimatum one evening. She’d come to his bed while he was on surveillance, and made it clear that if he didn’t leave ‘that woman’ alone, she’d pack her shit and walk right out. So he got up from his bed, slicked the key to her apartment out of his pocket, unlocked it and entered. Soon thereafter, he pulled her suitcase down from a shelf in her closet, and proceeded to place her things inside of it, with the utmost of precision and care. Apparently, this shocked poor Felicia, to the point that moments later, she recanted her threat, seeing that pulling his bluff simply didn’t work. She begged and pleaded, and that didn’t work either… the woman had lost him. He let her know that due to the stunt she pulled, she had two choices. To pack up and leave as she promised, he couldn’t have her disrespecting him like that, or he’d take two weeks pay out of her salary, making an example out of her ass for all the other whores to see…She settled for the shame and monetary demerit.
“Holy crap! Ahhhhahahahaha!” Smoke’s outburst dragged her out of her thoughts, and back to the present. “Paris,” he could barely talk as he doubled over, rolling with merriment. “Are you watching, baby?! Ahahahaha!” The entire crowd was lit up with amusement.
“Yes, silly! I see it.” She shook her head and grinned. Fact of the matter was, it was simply too hard to stop staring at him. What a beautiful man. He shined from the inside out. His laughter sounded like music, free and flowing, his spirit golden and radiant like a flame. She had a feeling Smoke didn’t get the chance to laugh often, and as it bubbled within him and spilled forth, his body was undoubtedly grateful for the reprieve. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he looked weakly at the screen, barely able to catch his own breath.
She couldn’t resist him one second longer, so she took the plunge and kissed him quickly on his cheek. His smile waned when he turned to look at her and their eyes locked. In the darkness of that big, crowded room, he took her in, focusing only on her. Leaning closer to her, uncaring of who saw them, he planted his lips firmly onto hers, his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer into his oral embrace. The flavor of butter danced in their mouths as their tongues explored, tasted…and her pussy started to quake.
After a while, she broke free from their lip lock, not wanting to keep him from his movie any longer, but damn, it was hard. They both slowly turned away from one another, their attention back on the screen. His fingers snuck back over to hers, and he held her hand, so warm, so strong, so tight. After a few moments, he leaned over and whispered, “You know, I realized something about myself.”
“What’s that?”
“I think I’ve been trying to relive a second childhood, trying to create the one I wanted all along. Being with you makes me want to live life, do new things. I feel like a damn kid with you. For the first time in my life, I look forward to the next day, and the next day after that. … I don’t believe I’ve laughed like this in years, Pussycat, and it’s not just the movie causing this, it’s you…”
And then, just like that, he squeezed her hand, and got back to watching the flick…
*
“IS IT TRUE, Brent? Tell me it’s not true! Answer me!” His mother’s voice quivered on the other end. He could almost envision the older redhead gripping the knotted cord of her timeworn, yellowed landline phone. She must’ve had a new number, for she was able to get through, bypass his ‘block’ setting.
“Yes.” He’d been lounging about in his house, enjoying a little R&R, only to have it snatched away, the plug pulled, come to a screeching halt due to a call from his now fanatically religious mother. She’d tossed her upbringing aside while he was growing up; rarely did they step foot inside a church. During his extended absence, though, she’d caught the Holy Ghost once again, and wanted to show everyone what she had in her spiritual knapsack.
“Awful! Unreal! I’m so disappointed in you!”
“That makes two of us…”
“Who are you? Where is the boy I raised?! I knew I should have never allowed you to move out to California with that man! Your damn father died and you stayed out there and—”
“Weren’t you happy about that, Mama?” He casually tossed a juicy green grape in his mouth, appreciating the contrast of the sweet and sour flavor as it burst between his clenched teeth.
“Happy? Happy about what?”
“About Dad croakin’? After all, you hated his guts.”
“Don’t you ever speak to me that way!”
“Now that you’ve found religion again, you want to act like Moses’ right hand man, as if you yourself were given the Ten Commandments to pass along to the people of the world.”
&nbs
p; “You can make fun all you want, Brent, but you know right from wrong. I raised you better than this,” she said dryly, although he was certain she’d stopped herself several times from cursing him out. Didn’t matter; what she thought counted most of all.
“Oh, I know what this is about.” He laughed lightly. “Did you get tired of Cecil not working and fooling around you? And then to top it all off, he’s the one that moved out, right? Hmmm, history repeating itself. I bet that must’ve been difficult. You left your son homeless just so that piece of shit could stay in the damn house. He didn’t want me there, and you chose a man that didn’t give a shit about you, over your own son. You didn’t even come to Dad’s funeral, didn’t ask how I was doing…nothing. Quiet as kept, Mama, I didn’t want to come back anyway.” He chewed noisily, grinding the grape to nothing. “But it would’ve been nice if I’d seen you stick up for me for a change.”
“That’s not what happened! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do, and that is what pisses you off the most. You’ve done nothing but lie to me my entire life. You need some truth serum, and I happen to have a fresh batch, made especially for you… All of this happened, another man left you, so you sought God, right? When you can’t find a man to love you, you find yourself a husband in the sky! I got news for you, Mama,” he said, his blood drawing colder. “There is no God.” He smiled into the phone and popped another grape into his mouth, chewing it fast, enjoying himself.
“God is real. He is the head of my life, and he forgives you, Brent! I’m going to pray for you. I’m going to pray for your soul!” she cried out.
“Will it be before or after you cash the next check I send you? Listen, Mama, I like to put my cards on the table.” He swallowed and leaned a bit forward. “There is something we’ve yet to address, and since you’ve decided to call me after you knew I didn’t want to talk to you, I’m going to give you exactly what you deserve. We both know what you did, the lies you told to me, to others and even to yourself… It’s a damn joke, and I’m not entertaining it.”
