by K'wan
“Sucks to be you,” Paul said offhandedly.
Marlene got up from the recliner so fast that she almost knocked Paul on the floor. “I don’t see the joke, Paul. There’s a young man’s life at stake here.”
“Come on, Mar. You know I didn’t mean it like that. All I’m saying is, you and I know how it can be in the hood, but these crackers that run the show ain’t got a fucking clue. Now, what if your client hadn’t hesitated? He’d probably be deader than all hell, and it’d be the other boy who got prosecuted. It’s like you can’t win with these pricks.”
“You’re telling me.” She walked over to the entertainment system and switched the CD. Lyfe Jennings’s “Must Be Nice” replaced the first lady of Bad Boy. “Sometimes I wonder what the fucking point is. Who knows, maybe Monday morning I’ll just go in and quit.”
“Who the fuck are you kidding?” Paul swigged his beer. “You love your job too much. Besides, if you were to quit, how would you keep up the mortgage on this little mansion here?” He looked around the room.
“I’d manage. I’ve got some money tucked away for a rainy day, and I could do legal consulting. Besides, you’d take care of me, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would. I ain’t got much, baby, but whatever I have is yours,” he said seriously. “You’re my beginning and my ending. Whatever you need, you have but to ask.”
“Glad you feel that way, Paul. So when are we moving in together?”
Damn, walked right into that one, he thought to himself. “Come on, Marlene.”
“Come on? Are we going somewhere?” she asked sarcastically.
“You know what I mean,” he said, pulling the wastebasket to rest between his feet while he split the Dutch over it. “Why do we have to go into this now?”
When Marlene peeped the move, she knew she had him on the ropes. Whenever Paul didn’t want to answer something honestly, or couldn’t think of a politically correct response, his hands started moving. Normally, he would start sketching or mixing paints, but he didn’t have either within arms’ reach. The blunt would be his buffer.
“Paul, how come every time I wanna talk about something that’s important to me, you don’t?” She moved to stand in front of him. Even sitting, he almost reached her five foot two. “You make me feel like the things that move me aren’t important to you.”
“You know it’s not like that with me, Mar. Of course the things that are important to you are important to me.” He tried to reach out and pull her closer, but she stepped out of reach.
She fixed her eyes directly on his, to make sure she had his undivided attention. “You don’t act like it. Paul, let’s keep it funky,” she began, which bothered him because she rarely used improper English. “We’ve been together for a while now, and what have we accomplished?”
He put the finishing touches on his blunt and glared up at her as if she’d offended him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You left the city and went with a private firm with more perks, and I’ve given up scamming to go legit. I know I haven’t sold a painting yet, but I’m creating a buzz. Soon it’ll be on and popping!”
“Paul, I think you’ve misunderstood me,” she said seriously. “Both of us have accomplished a great deal of noteworthy things individually, but what have we done together?”
He responded by lighting the blunt.
“That’s the kind of shit I’m talking about.” She threw her hands up. “I say things to you and they go over your head!”
“Marlene.” He exhaled the smoke. “You ain’t gotta be yelling. I can hear you just fine from here.”
“Sometimes it seems like that’s the only way to get a reaction out of you. Do I have to scream like a fool for you to understand that I love you?” she asked, eyes threatening rain.
Paul felt that familiar tug at his heart, telling him to be more attentive. He knew where Marlene was coming from, because he often did it to himself. It is often said that artistic people live in a world unto themselves, and whoever came up with that observation must’ve shared a room with Paul as a child. He could articulate himself through art with an almost magical fluidity, but saying exactly what was on his mind was like a circus trick. His mind said one thing, but his words and actions mispronounced the verses. More often than not, he chose silence as his defense.
He fought back his sharp retort and decided to bend. “Marlene, I know you wanna do it real official with a nigga, but its gonna be some time. I wanna be able to take care of my family on the constant basis, not in spurts.”
“Sweetie, you know it’s never been about money with me,” she said, taking the blunt from him and sipping from the stream of smoke trailing it. “I did it before you, and during. You know I’ll go out and get it without coaching. It’s just that, more often than not, I’m lonely.”
“I know.” He stood and kissed her on the forehead. “Soon as I sell one of these joints. I promise.” He tapped her once more on the tip of her nose and left the sanctuary.
Marlene watched him leave, dangling his half-empty Corona. Even while upset with him, she couldn’t deny the fact that there was a sex appeal to him, in an innocent yet wicked way. Marlene, who would be turning forty the following month, was more settled and focused on what she wanted from life and what she was going to make it give her.
When she had first discovered the young felon, she knew he was something special. He was still really a little boy, yet with grown people’s responsibilities. The gangsta part about it was that he was handling it. She could recall countless stories about her friends’ baby daddies and them dipping out on the kid. Paul handled his with a high head. Even though his baby’s mama was a royal pain, he kept the bond with his seed strong. That was rare in this day and age.
Paul was damn near perfect, except for his reluctance to let go of his past. He had more than a great deal of potential, but no one to give him that extra bit of direction. That’s where Marlene came in. She had already resigned herself to the fact that he could cop or blow.
7
It was 1:00 A.M. and Billy still hadn’t gone back to join her homegirls. On her way to drop Jean off, Jean convinced her to make a stop at Mt. Morris Park. Some people she knew were supposed to be having a big barbecue for a homey that just touched down from doing a bullet. Billy wasn’t in too much of hurry to get back to her friends and their stoop antics, so she agreed to stop through for a few minutes. The next thing she knew, almost two hours had passed.
The hosts of the event had been more than generous with the entertainment for the night. There were gallons of liquor and at least a half pound of weed floating around the park. It seemed like every time Billy handed one blunt off, another one was being passed to her. Billy had considered calling her girls to invite them to the event, but didn’t feel like hearing their mouths. It was mostly a bull and queer event and she knew their homophobic asses wouldn’t have been comfortable.
Sometime during the event a trio came through. The first girl was cute, but hardly as attractive as the other two. She wore pleated linen pants and a sleeveless blouse beneath a linen jacket. The second girl was beautiful, with golden skin and catlike green eyes. She had a Dominican look about her, but Billy wasn’t absolutely sure. Her eyes were partially slanted on her doll-like face, with a crown of auburn curls atop her head.
The third member of the party was so handsome that he danced on the line of being pretty. The young man wore a silk shirt, unbuttoned at the top, showing off his well-built chest. His skin was the color of milk chocolate, and when he smiled, perfect white teeth flashed in the moonlight.
Jean introduced the trio to Billy as Rose, Cat, and Marcus. Rose nodded, but didn’t bother to extend her hand in greeting. Cat, on the other hand, was very friendly, holding onto Billy’s hand a little longer than necessary. There was something about her green eyes that made Billy uncomfortable. Marcus was a different case. When he greeted Billy, he bowed slightly from the hip and kissed the back of her hand. When his lips made contact w
ith her skin, Billy felt a chill snake up her back.
She watched the trio from a distance for some time, trying to figure out what the connection was between them. At first she thought that the two girls and Marcus were gay, but something about the way he moved made her think different. He had a charming effect on all the ladies, even the gay ones, and the two girls he was with hung on every word he said, especially Cat. On several occasions, Billy caught her pinching his rear and running her hands through his long braided hair. From what she gathered, Marcus belonged to her, or vice versa. She looked over at the striking young man from time to time, but didn’t allow her eyes to linger too long. She knew how territorial women could be about their men and didn’t want to cause any problems at the barbecue. Nonetheless, something about Marcus intrigued her.
As the night went on, people started branching off into groups. Billy was posted up off to the side, smoking a clip and sipping a Guinness when Cat approached her. She slithered over in her flared mini and thigh-high boots, wearing a smirk, as if she had a secret that she wasn’t going to share. Cat made it a point to occupy Billy’s vicinity, but not quite her space.
Billy felt like she was being stalked, but she didn’t let Cat know she was uncomfortable. She kept tapping her foot, mouthing along with the Don B. song blasting from someone’s speakers. Billy turned around and was surprised to find Cat staring at her. For a long while there was just silence, with both of them staring. Finally Cat said something.
“I hope I don’t sound too thirsty, but do you mind if I hit that,” Cat said, eyeing her hungrily.
“Excuse me?” Billy shot back.
“The blunt.” Cat smirked. “Oh, you thought I meant…”
“Sorry,” Billy said, a little embarrassed. She passed the blunt to Cat and watched her take deep sensual pulls.
“It’s fine. I’ll bet you’ve had a lot of girls come on to you today,” Cat said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What makes you say that?”
“I dunno.” Cat shrugged. “A pretty girl at a barbecue full of dykes, call it an educated guess.” She expelled smoke from the corner of her mouth and handed the blunt back to Billy.
“Yeah, I’ve had a few offers,” Billy said, puffing on the el.
“So, you chose one yet?” Cat asked innocently.
“Sorry, not quite my cup of tea,” Billy replied.
Cat raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Billy said defensively. “Listen, Cat, if you figured you’d come over here and test your luck, I didn’t come here for that.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, Billy. I didn’t come over here to push up. I don’t chase women.”
“Oh, so you don’t swing?” Billy looked at her suspiciously.
“Oh, I do pussy with a side of dick from time to time, but I don’t chase women. They’re usually chasing me,” Cat said seriously.
“Aren’t you the confident one?”
“Just telling you what I know, Billy. But like I said, I didn’t come over here for that. I actually wanted to ask a favor.”
“A favor?” Billy looked at her. “What kind of favor?”
Cat dipped into her small purse and produced a Phillie and a bag of weed so bright that it was almost yellow. “I saw you blazing and figured you wouldn’t mind rolling this up for me, if I shared it with you? Sadly enough, I can’t roll very well.” She gave Billy a schoolgirl smile.
Billy popped the small plastic bag open and inhaled. The weed smelled like freshly cut grass, glazed in sour apple candy. She knew that whatever Cat was holding was some bomb shit. Seeing that Cat wasn’t trying to press her, she relaxed a little. After rolling the blunt, she and Cat sat off to the side getting higher than a “no money down” interest rate. It didn’t take long before they were laughing and talking like two old friends.
Cat was very open with Billy about how she had moved to New York with her mother and brother from Baltimore. It had always been her dream to become an actress, but she’d only found low-paying jobs and a high cost of living. Trying to stay above the poverty line, she took a part-time job as a dancer. After a while the money got so good that she found herself doing it full-time.
Cat paused for a minute as if she were deep in thought. “Billy … I was thinking. Well, I don’t know if you do the club thing, but, maybe you’d like to come by and check out the show?”
“I don’t know,” Billy said.
“Come on,” Cat urged. “It’s a straight club, so it’ll be a mixed crowd. The spot is pretty classy, too. Not one of those hole-in-the-wall joints. After my set, we can get drunk and admire some of that prime beef they have running around in there.”
Billy let out a giggle.
“I wanna laugh, too, what’s the joke?” a smooth voice called from behind Billy. She turned around and was surprised to see Marcus standing behind her.
“Damn, you’re nosy,” Cat said, playfully kissing him on the chin.
“You know I gotta keep you outta trouble,” Marcus responded, twirling one of Cat’s curls around his index finger. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked Billy.
“Oh, we were just smoking,” Billy said nervously. Marcus was giving her the same look that Cat had been a few minutes prior. Something about being in their combined presence made Billy feel like the main course at the Last Supper.
“I see you’ve taken a liking to my Cat,” Marcus said, shifting his gaze from Billy to Cat and back again.
“Oh, nah, it ain’t like that. We were just smoking,” Billy told him.
“It’s okay, Billy, women come on to Cat all the time. I’m pretty used to it by now,” Marcus assured her.
Not liking the way the couple looked at her, Billy got defensive. “Hold on, par. I think you got the wrong idea. I don’t do women and I wasn’t pushing up on your girl.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “My what?”
“Aren’t you and Cat together?” Billy asked, not really catching on.
Cat burst out in laughter. “Billy, we came together, but not together. Marcus is my brother.”
The pieces finally fell into place. Those same graceful motions, the predatory glare, it was all in the genes. She felt like a real chickenhead for not getting confirmation before she opened her big-ass mouth. “Sorry, I thought…”
“No need to explain,” Marcus spoke up. “This happens to us more often than not. We’ve got different fathers, that’s why her eyes are green and mine are just nigger brown. Cat and I have done some freaky shit, but we’ve never gone that far.”
“Damn, I feel stupid,” Billy admitted.
Cat eased back into Billy’s space. “You shouldn’t. The idea is actually kind of tempting. What do you think, Marc?” She glanced at her brother. “Could we split a Billy sandwich?”
“I don’t think so,” Billy said sternly.
“Cut it out, Cat.” Marcus stepped between them. “Billy, she was just playing with you.”
“Cat!” Rose called from over by the grill.
“Oh God, she probably thinks Billy is over here putting the moves on me. Marc, why don’t you see if you can keep Billy entertained while I’m gone.” Cat winked at Billy and sauntered off to see what Rose wanted.
“Your sister is mad aggressive,” Billy commented.
Marcus flashed a smile. “Its genetic.”
“So now I’m gonna have to back you down, too?”
“Nah.” Marcus raised his hands in surrender. “I’m aggressive, but not extra. I like to let a woman realize that she wants me on her own.”
“I hear that.”
“So which side do you play for?” Marcus asked very bluntly.
Billy’s eyes flashed. “Excuse me?”
“No disrespect, sis, but considering what kind of party we’re at, I gotta ask.”
“Well, I could ask the same of you. Are you a catcher or a pitcher?” Billy looked him up and down.
Marcus gave her a throaty chuckle. “Good one, ma. Na
h, don’t fuck around. I’m strictly hitting pussy. My sister dragged me down here. I heard a free meal and some drinks, so I rolled out. I didn’t know it was gonna be a rainbow parade. No offense.”
“None taken, ’cause I don’t do same sex, either,” Billy said.
Marcus stared at her for a moment before speaking. “So what do you think has landed two straight people at a barbecue like this one?”
Billy looked around at the people in attendance and shrugged. “I don’t know, a slow summer night?”
“Indeed.” Marcus nodded. “Yo, if you wanna get out of here, we could—”
Billy raised her hand and silenced him. “Slow ya roll, par. Just because I don’t do pussy doesn’t mean I hop on every dick. We just met, my dude.”
“Pardon me, gangsta, I ain’t mean no disrespect,” Marcus said in a mock-thug tone. This got Billy to smile a little. “But for real,” he said seriously, “I just wanted to get to know you a little bit.”
“That’s a better way to put it,” Billy said, crossing her arms. She cocked her head to the side, letting the moon catch her sparkling eyes.
Marcus watched Billy’s every move, as if he’d be tested on them at the end of the night. Though she was way thugged out, Marcus found himself attracted to her. She had a defiant air about her that he wasn’t used to seeing in women. Most of them turned to mush under his confident stare and boyish good looks, but Ms. Billy was hard. Not hard in the sense that she reminded him of one of the barbecue dykes, but the kind of hard that would make a man stronger. Billy definitely wasn’t having it.
“I can definitely respect your directness, and I’d like to get to the bottom of it.” Marcus removed a business card from his back pocket and handed it to Billy. “Why don’t you come down to the spot for a drink one night? On me, of course.”
Billy read the car and frowned. “This is the same club your sister dances at. You a stripper, too?”
“Nah, my clothes only come off behind closed doors. I do a little bartending and help out around the club when they need me. There’ll be a lot of ass floating around, but it’s nothing either of us haven’t already seen before.”
