by Styles, T.
Knowing what the deal was, she dropped to her knees and placed his dick inside her mouth. She stared up at him. With the power of a Hoover, she sucked him until she made him weak to his knees. As big and as bad as he was, he needed the help of a cane when it came to enduring Candy’s sex game. He placed his hands on the sides of the wall in the stall and allowed her to go to work. It took all of two minutes before she made him bust, swallowing every last drip.
Wiping her mouth she stood up and faced him. “Is that enough to convince you?”
“What you think?” he smiled as he zipped his white pants. “But if you don’t start takin’ better care of lil Shawn, I’ma cut you off for good.” He continued adjusting himself.
“Don’t start that shit, Shy.” She put her face in her hands.
“Don’t tell me what to start!” he said, grabbing her wrist. “I ain’t playin’ wit you.”
“I got you.” She snatched her arm. “I’m gonna always take care of our child. Just as long as you keep givin’ me the money to.”
With that she extended her hand ready to be blessed.
Shy pulled out the wad in his pocket and gave her eight hundred dollars.
“You got a lot of shit wit you.” He tucked the rest back in his pocket.
“And you love every bit of it.” She tucked the cash in her bra.
“Shut yo’ ass up and get yo’ self together.” He opened the bathroom door. “And put some more of that lip gloss and perfume on and shit. I don’t want him to smell my dick on your breath.”
“I got it, baby. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not, but if you fuck up, you should be.”
Kavon glanced over at Tara’s battered face. He’d paid the staff over fifty thousand to be sure she was given the best of care. He also requested the best plastic surgeon to repair the damage made from the bite mark on her beautiful face. And to be sure it was money well spent, he found out who the surgeon was and dropped 10g’s on him.
As he looked at her, a white nurse walked through the door to check her vitals. She noticed Kavon’s eyes were bloodshot red from crying.
“You okay, son?” she asked as she changed her I.V bag.
“I been betta.” He took his black Kangol off, and wiped his face with his hands.
“She’ll be okay, son. Plenty of people come back from comas. Besides, you have a lot to be thankful for. The baby’s doing well.” She added.
He grinned when she said those words. Yesterday he found out she was pregnant and he wondered why she hid it from him when she knew how much he wanted a little girl.
“I know.” He smiled, focusing on the thought of his baby. He had a name for her and everything. Tiara Cartier. “It still fucks me up that somebody would do this to her.”
“I understand, but everything will be okay. Now let me leave you two alone.”
When she was gone, he kneeled down by her bedside and kissed her hand. Holding it lovingly he told her if she pulled through, he’d never leave her side again, no matter what. And for the first time since he’d been there, she gripped his hand.
“Baby?” he said as if it were a question more than anything else. He couldn’t believe she was showing signs of consciousness. He was told it could take anywhere from a month to a year for her to pull through. “Can you hear me, baby? If you can grip my hand.”
She gripped it again despite her eyes remaining closed.
“Somebody come in here!” he yelled running to the door. “Can I have a doctor please?!”
The same nurse who was just there came running back.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, worried at his outburst. She immediately went to her bedside and observed Tara.
“Yeah! I mean I don’t know!” He walked behind the nurse. “She gripped my hand.”
“Oh…she gripped your hand. I thought it was something else.” She said as if it were a false alarm.
“What do you mean?”
“It happens from time to time with people in comas. It’s called a muscular contraction. It’s nothing to be alarmed about.”
“How you gonna tell me it’s a muscular contraction?” he said angry at her response. “I asked her a question and she responded by grippin’ my hand.”
“Okay, son.” She patted his back lightly. “I see you’re upset. Let me show you.”
“Tara,” she said, soothingly by her beside. She grabbed her hand. “I’m nurse Cassandra Wells. We’re pullin’ for you, sweetheart, and if you can hear me, please grip my hand.”
She waited five seconds and nothing happened.
Kavon felt like knocking this bitch to the floor.
“See…it was just a false alarm.”
“Whateva!” He brushed her off. “She heard me and I know she did.”
“Son, I don’t want to set you up for unrealistic expectations, that’s all.” She said trying to diffuse the matter. “Now I have to go, call me if you need me.”
She left the room.
He looked at Tara, closed his eyes and said a prayer. It was about time for him and God to have a conversation.
“God, I know I’m not the best man. I may even be the worse. I did some things I’m not proud of. A lot of stuff I can’t take back. But I love this woman, with all my heart, and I’m askin’ that You not punish her for my shortcomings. Please, Father. I’m willing to try my hardest to become a better person. A better man. Amen.”
He was finishing his prayer when Shy walked into the room holding a big bouquet of flowers. He strolled in like Big Red at Jimmy’s funeral in the movie, The Five Heartbeats.
“You a’ight, man?” he asked, placing one hand on his shoulder after placing the flowers on the night table.
The moment Kavon heard his voice he stood up and faced him. His eyes still red and face wet with tears. He was far from a punk, but everything happening to Tara had him fucked up. As if he knew what Kavon needed, Shy gripped him in a manly embrace. Kavon broke down. He hadn’t cried that hard since the death of his mother.
“Why, man?” he said, looking at him. “Why would somebody do her like this?”
“I don’t know, but when we find out, we gonna murder dem mothafuckas. You hear what I’m sayin’, B? We layin’ the murder game down.” He paced the floor. “And then she carryin’ your seed. Is everything okay with that?”
Kavon was still crying when he thought about what he said. How did he know she was pregnant? He didn’t have a chance to say anything to him outside of meet him at the hospital, and that Tara had been hurt.
“How you know?” he said wiping the tears from his eyes.
“I ain’t wanna tell you,” he said real low. “But Tara told me in the kitchen the night we went to the cabaret. That’s what we were really talkin’ about.”
“For real?” he said, scratching his head. He heard him, but something didn’t sound correct. Why would she tell him before he told Kavon?
“Yeah…she said she had a feeling you were gonna propose and shit cause you kept fuckin’ wit her ring finger. So she was going to tell you the night you asked her to marry you. She wanted it to be a surprise.”
Kavon smiled when he remembered he may have gone a little overboard with trying to get an idea of her ring size.
“Yeah…I was jive extra.”
“I know you fucked up right now, man.” Shy said skipping the subject. “But this shit will get handled. You can believe that.”
“I know.” Kavon confirmed. “They took some cash and some jewelry, too.”
“Word? Any idea who did it?”
“None.”
“Well I guess you gonna have to stay in the game now.” Shy said seriously. “At least until Tara’s better.”
“For real my man, I’m not thinkin’ bout that right now.” Kavon thought it a bit insensitive to be talking about business at a time like this.
“I feel you.” Shy realized he might have gone too far. “I just want you to know the offer still stands.”
Kavon gave him some dap
and Shy walked over to Tara’s bedside. Wanting to give him some privacy, Kavon sat in the chair across the room.
When he was out of Kavon’s earshot, Shy placed one hand on hers and said, “Don’t worry, Tara. This shit is almost over. And when you come to, I’ma grab yo ass outta here by your mothafuckin’ hair and finish what I started.”
All of a sudden Tara’s heart monitor sped up. Kavon jumped up and ran to her side.
“What happened?” Kavon pushed him out the way.
“I don’t know man. I was talkin’ to her and the shit went off.” He said getting out of his way.
Kavon was on his way out to tell someone there was trouble but the doctor and the nurse from earlier came rushing inside. They flew into a frenzy of activity and Kavon was terrified that he had lost Tara for good.
“You two have to leave.” The doctor said as more staff members came in.
They didn’t move. Both of them wanted to see what was happening. They both had motives. One good. The other bad.
When she opened her eyes, Kavon’s heart dropped. She looked scared. It was as if she’d seen the devil. Kavon pushed past the staff members so he could be the first one she saw. She spotted him and reached out for him. The doctors couldn’t pull him away if they tried. She had to tell him something and she had to tell him now.
“K…K…Kavon.” She said trying hard to speak.
“Yes, baby. Yes. I’m here.” He stooped down and clasped her hand. She whispered something in his ear.
The staff members covered Shy’s view. He wondered what she was saying. But when Kavon submerged from the hustle of the staff members who were struggling to make sure she was okay, the look in his eyes told Shy everything he wanted to know. And if looks could kill, Shy would be dead. Kavon walked slowly over to him. Shy dug in his coat and put his hand on his heat. Kavon stopped a few feet in front of him when he noticed.
“What she say, man?” Shy asked as Kavon stood directly in front of him. The staff members still on Tara.
“Nothing…she ain’t say nothin’ man. It’s just a muscular contraction.” Kavon eyed Shy’s hand in his coat pocket.
“Word?” Shy said. “Cause whatever she said can be dealt with right now.”
“Naw, main man…there’s a time and place for everything.” Kavon responded.
“Well, when you’re ready for that time, let me know.” He said, his hand still on his heat hidden from the average view. He left the room backwards eyes glued onto Kavon’s.
“I will see you again.”
“Not if I see you first.”
“Time will tell.” Kavon said. “You can count on it.”
Crayland Bailor
Baltimore, January, 1989
Birthday Boy
The cool air ripping at his face could not stop Cray from rushing home to see the cake his father got for his birthday. He was so excited he left Markise and Jason at school because Jason had to double back inside to get his house keys and Cray was too anxious to wait.
Once at the door he flew inside leaving the front door swinging.
“Boy what you doin’ runnin’ in here like that?!” His father was sitting on the couch watching TV with a can of beer in his hands resting on his knee.
“Sorry dad.” His breaths were heavy. “Where is it?”
He continued to watch television.
“Where’s what?”
Cray thought he was playing with him. He did a little research of his own with his eyes to see if he had the cake stashed somewhere. He remembered he’d tricked him before by hiding the gifts and the cake one year for his birthday.
“Come on, dad.” Cray giggled. “Where’s the cake?”
All of a sudden, his father burst into laughter. Cray’s feet scratched backward confused.
“What was so funny?”
“Nothin’.” He started sipping his beer. “I thought I had a son that’s all.”
Silence.
“Let me find out I’m raising a little girl instead, who’s still into cakes and shit! You betta toughen up Cray! You startin’ be act weak. Now get the fuck out of my face.”
Cray’s nose burned a little as he thought about what was happening.
“Now!” he yelled giving him a look that said he was preparing to punch him in his face if he didn’t obey him.
Huffing and puffin, Cray bolted through the front door and outside the apartment. His heart ached because his birthday was the one day that belonged to him. He allowed his parents the other 364 days of the year to fuck up his life.
What was he going to tell his friends? They’re parents had already gave them the okay to stay over. He hated his life and everything about it.
Once outside Frankie the dog ran up to him. Out of everyone, he migrated to Cray the most. In his mind they were the same. Alone. Unloved and Misunderstood.
Angry and upset, Cray sat on the steps and begin petting the animal. Suddenly he started to think about his fucked up family. His fucked up life, and never having what he wanted. Happiness. Sometimes he wished someone killed him. Better yet, he wished his parents didn’t exist anymore. He wished he was strong enough to kill them himself, and then he wouldn’t have to wait for them to die. When he came out of his thoughts, he realized he had the dog’s neck in his grasp, with both hands. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth and he had squeezed his throat so tightly, he was dead.
Jumping up Cray looked around to see who was watching. No one was. How could he kill the only thing outside of his friends that loved him? His mind raced and he felt worse. He was a killer. He was cold and heartless. He was a little of his father and some of his mother. He made up his mind that he was going for self, no matter what and suddenly a sense of calm came over him.
The dog’s death symbolized how he felt about life. The death of Frankie, was just the beginning.
“Cray! Cray!” He heard yelling from his bedroom window.
It sounded like Jason’s fat ass.
He walked over to the window and sure enough, Jason was outside staring up at him while Markise was whispering something in some big butt girl’s ears. He shook his head at the scene because he felt Markise was worried about the wrong things in life, coochie.
“What?!” He lifted his window allowing the cool air to rush in.
“You comin’ out?” Jason asked, his waist-length coat barely covering his stomach.
“Yeah, give me a minute.”
“Well hurry up! Yo’ cousin Devon out here!”
Devon was his first cousin on his father’s side. He was twenty years old and the coolest dude he knew. Devon didn’t have as much cash as Melody, but he had enough to floss to be his age.
“A’ight! Tell him I’m comin’ out now.” He shut the window.
Cray grabbed his book bag and lifted the mattress to grab the gun he found. He looked at it and walked over to the mirror in the aiming position. He knew he didn’t know the first thing about using a gun, but if he was scared enough, he ventured to say he would learn. Once the gun was tucked in his bag, he walked out the door.
Outside
Devon leaned against his black Acura Integra and kicked what he thought was knowledge to Cray and his friends. Some of the stories were interesting, but most of them were ridiculous.
The one good thing about Devon coming over was that he always had cash and he was always willing to spend it on them. Devon had his black Eddie Bauer coat on with his Guess jeans and green Gucci sneakers. He was beyond fine and knew it. His deep chocolate skin had a scar directly under his left eye. His hair stayed low and he kept a wave brush with him at all times. The women loved him the moment they laid eyes on him, and he loved them back.
“So we at Crazy John’s gettin’ some grub, and I’m tellin’ dis bitch to get in the car,” he started as he ate Shrimp Fried Rice, right out of the Chinese box. “So…she gonna holla
‘bout she not ready to go. So I tells the bitch, look bitch, get yo ass in this car or you bout to get left.”
&
nbsp; He hadn’t even gotten out everything before Jason’s ass busted out laughing and fell on the ground.
“Yo…what is so funny, dude?” Markise asked as he ate his beef and broccoli with rice. “The man not even finished yet and you laughin’.”
Cray shook his head. He knew Jason’s beastly ass was more happy to be eating than anything else.
“Leave the lil nigga alone.” Devon laughed. “He feelin’ me on this shit. So I tells the bitch get in the car. Do you know this broad had a nerve to slap me?”
“For real?” Cray said finally interested. He wasn’t into all the stories about the girls and the many ways he fucked them. For real, for real, he thought he was too old to be talking to them about stuff like that anyway. “What you do?”
“I dropped her! Hit her slam in her jaw.” he said as if he should’ve known. “What you think I did?”
“Man, you ain’t supposed to be hittin’ no females.” Markise said shaking his head in disgust before digging in his food. “That’s juvenile man.”
“Listen to this lil nigga talkin’ about somethin’ juvenile.” He laughed as if he didn’t know the first thing about handling women. “Let me school you, lil brother. You gots to keep a woman in check. Got to! Plus, they be likin’ that shit.”
“I disagree. My father said ain’t no man ‘spose to be hittin’ no woman. We stronger than them anyway. So why put our hands on em?” Markise continued, never backing down from his beliefs. “I mean, let’s be real about it. How bad can a girl hurt you?”
