by iiKane
The panther sighed hard, closed the book and looked up. She pushed her locks back, hitting Georgie with the full force of her beauty. Her name should have been mahogany because the brown hue had a deep reddish tinge, like there was a fire blazing within, just below the surface.
“Okay, you want me to share? I think you’re an arrogant…”
“Hold up, hold up. What’s your name?”
“What?”
“What are we, strangers in a train? This is group; you know, it’s my name is…”
“Eanan.”
Georgie looked at her.
“Is that your first name?”
“No.”
Georgie’s hand shot up again.
“Mrs. Stevens, red flag, red flag! I gave my first name, Leroy gave his, Veronica gave hers, so I’m not comfortable with her withholding hers,” Georgie complained.
“In group, we only have to share what we’re comfortable with,” Mrs. Stevens reminded him.
“I understand that, but how do we know she’s not a serial killer or something? Like, wait a minute, didn’t I see you on America’s Most Wanted?"
Mahogany rolled her eyes and went back to her book.
The rest of the group went well except for Georgie, who was lost in the jungle. This time, the panther didn’t peek, even though she knew he was staring. All that he could see were those sexy little toes whose ring he wanted to taste.
When group was over, he had to fight the impulse to get on some grade school shit, snatch up her sandals and hold them out of reach until she told him her name. But he restrained himself.
“Excuse me, Miss. Can I have a word with you?”
She stopped and pinned him.
“I like your locks; they’re real pretty. But who does ‘em? They appear to be brittle; what do you wash them in, acid? I’ll wash them for you if you tell me your name.”
“Excuse you,” she replied, pulling the loc that he was holding out of his hand, “but I can do them myself.”
“Then grease your scalp? Take care of the new growth for you?” Georgie requested, all but begging.
She chuckled, exasperatedly.
“Why do you want to know my name so bad?” she asked herself and him at the same time. Then she stopped, cocked her head, looked and him, then a smile of understanding spread over her face. “No one’s ever told you no, have they?”
Mystery solved, she turned and walked up the hallway.
“Ma, don’t do my like that, hol’ up,” Georgie called out, then started up the hallway after her.
That is until a big body blocked his path. Her name was ironically Miss Killjoy and she was 6’4”, built like a linebacker with big, dookie ghetto braids all over her head.
“Mills, you know the rules: no men on the women’s hallway,” she bassed, crossing her massive arms in front of her massive chest.
Georgie looked at her. Under her elbows, he could see Mahogany disappear into her room. He was vexed.
“Miss Killjoy…anybody ever tell you that you look like Shenehneh from Martin?”
“Mills, if you don’t get the hell out of my face, somebody gonna have to get me off your ass,” Miss Killjoy retorted with a growl.
Georgie went back to his room, grumbling.
That evening in the cafeteria, he waited to see her. She didn’t show. Since he didn’t know her name, he called her something else, then spent the rest of the evening talking to Skye and his mother on the phone in the dayroom.
“I’m proud of you, Georgie,” Skye said, exhaling when he told her where he was.
“Well Ma, I guess you were right.”
“I always am.”
“Even when you’re wrong, right?”
They laughed.
“It’s good to hear from you, baby. How’s your wings?” he smiled.
“I’ve got wind beneath them.”
“That’s good…oh, call Benny; he’s got a check for me. Pick it up.
“Okay.”
She paused.
“Georgie, can you have visits?”
He smiled.
“In a few more weeks. I’ll let you know. I’d love to see you.”
He could hear her smile over the phone.
“My baby’s growin’ up,” Stephanie exclaimed when he told her.
“Then when you gonna stop calling me a baby?” he quipped.
“Never! You can be a hundred and one,” she cracked.
“Ma, when I’m a hundred and one, how old you gonna be?”
“Thirty five!”
The both laughed.
Georgie went back to his room and fell asleep, trying to guess the name of the girl with no name, twisting and turning different combinations, like he was trying to open a safe.
By breakfast the next morning, he was practically obsessed. He couldn’t think of anything else. When she didn’t show, he seriously considered putting Miss Killjoy into a sleeper hold then going straight to her room. If she hadn’t come to lunch, he had decided that he would.
When he spotted her, head bowed over her book, half-eaten order of fries and chicken nuggets in front of her, he felt like he was back in high school with his first crush.
He sat down across from her.
“Hello, girl with no name,” he dimpled.
“Hello, boy with no business,” she replied without looking up. He chuckled.
“I’ve got business, yours; can’t you see I’m all in it? What are you reading?” he asked, eating out of her fries.
She glared at him then tilted the book up.
“Their Eyes Are Watching God, by Zora Neale Hurston,” he read the cover. “Is it good?”
“If I could read it, I’d tell you,” she quipped sarcastically.
He reached for another fry. She slapped his hand, but he ate it anyway.
“Tell me your name and I’ll read it to you. Matter of fact, I’ll sing it to you, in soprano, wearing a tutu. Just tell me your name,” he whined, playfully.
She pushed her book aside, leaned across the table and replied, “No. No, no, no, no, no. If you’ve never heard it, now you have. Get used to it,” she snickered.
Even though the word did irk him, he didn’t let it show.
“Ma, it’s one thing to tell me no because I deserve it, but another just because you can. Now tell me, do I deserve it?” he questioned, putting his hands on his chest, resting his elbows on the table and giving her the puppy dog look.
She couldn’t help but laugh. She sipped her soda through the straw, then answered, “Okay…give me one reason why I should tell you my name.”
“Give me one reason why you shouldn’t,” Georgie shot right back.
“Because I told you before.”
Georgie looked confused, thinking that maybe they had met before.
“Huh?”
“A thousand times. Shouted it over music in the club, whispered it so I couldn’t disturb libraries. I’ve told you casually over drinks and reminded you of it at awkward moments. But you keep forgetting it, keep lying to it, keep disrespecting it. So tell me, why I should tell you again, and why will it be any different?” she explained, her voice only subtly embittered.
Georgie looked her in the eyes.
“Ma, I’m not…”
“You are them,” she cut him off.
Georgie got slightly irritated. “You don’t even know me, how you gonna put me in the same box?”
She gave him a sour look.
“Because I can see your reflection in the wedding ring. Playa,” she spat, as if to say checkmate.
Georgie dropped his head to bite back the response she was asking for and gave her the one that her unawareness deserved.
“My wife is dead, but the ring I’m never taking off, even if I get married again, okay? So don’t call me that again. I may be a bull shitter, but I’m not a liar.”
Her facial expression melted.
“I’m – I’m sorry. I –”
“No, don’t worry about it. I probably wo
uld’ve made that mistake too. You are right about one thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“You have told me your name before,” he smirked, “a long time ago, you probably don’t even remember. The night I whisked you out your cabin and begged you to run away with me, run away and follow the North star to freedom…or maybe it was on the slave ship, in another language, I called out to tell you to be strong, that we would endure…or maybe it was when I prayed to you in the Egyptian temple, saying your name over and over, or maybe…just maybe, in the beginning, I’m the one who named you,” he concluded, taking her analogy to the ultimate beginning.
While he talked, his whole aura transformed in her eyes. She had him pegged as an arrogant pretty boy, who thought the world revolved around him, and just out for a piece of ass. But the way he took her thread of a thought and weaved it into a vision had her looking at him in a different light and wanting to explore his mind.
“Is that right,” she said, giving him her smile for the first time, the one where the tip of her tongue appeared between her teeth.
“Maybe,” he grinned, enjoying her smile.
“Then what did you name me?”
He ate one of her nuggets.
“Well, it definitely wasn’t a flower; you’re not a Jasmine or a Rose, definitely not a Lily—you’re not that delicate. So then I thought about music; I love music. I thought maybe you were a melody, lyric, whisper,” he chuckled. “Horny… to be honest, that’s as far as I got before I started calling you some things you might wanna figure out. But I meant no disrespect; I was pulling your hair when I said it,” he concluded, then dimpled wickedly.
She laughed hard.
“You don’t pull any punches do you, Georgie?”
He shrugged.
“The moment we start lying, we start dying, so why waste time?” he replied, looking her in the eyes.
The eye contact lingered for a verse, then she said, “Well…when I tell you my name, if…I tell you my name, you won’t forget it this time because you won’t be able to get the taste out of your mouth.”
Peaches came to his mind.
“Ma forreal, I don’t even want to know your name right now because if it’s this much fun getting to know you, I can wait another twenty years,” he winked as he ate another then bounced with her soda.
Now, it was his turn to know that she was watching and not turn around.
When he got back to his room, he thought about the girl with no name. She had him intrigued. She was not only beautiful, but he was also interested in her mind. He couldn’t even remember being with a woman who read, and if she did, she didn’t tell him about it; the magazine didn’t count.
He laid back, looking forward to seeing her again.
Just as he dozed off, he heard a knock at the door.
“Yo,” he called out, jumping up to open it.
It was Nurse Killjoy.
“You got a visit, Mills,” she gruffed.
“A visit? Who is it?” he frowned, confused.
“Go see for yourself,” she retorted, then walked away.
Georgie thought about it as he walked out to the courtyard. It couldn’t be his mother because she had said that she would be coming in two weeks. Skye, he thought with a smile. She had probably flown straight back to surprise him. Thoughts of Skye always made him smile. She would always have a special place in his heart. But that was true of many women in his life.
Except one…the one that he hadn’t expected but was waiting on for his whole life. She had it all.
Anya…
Anya…
…Anya?
The courtyard was a small area with several benches arranged where they weren’t too close to one another. No one else was there except her, standing in the middle of the yard.
“…Anya?” Georgie gasped, not believing his eyes.
“Hello Georgie, how have you been?” she asked, that smile he had fallen in love with embracing his presence.
She was beautiful. She had let her hair grow out and she wore it in an upsweep, bangs accentuating her delicate features. Her sexy curves had filled out even more to the point of stallion status.
Georgie wanted to devour her, but he couldn’t will his legs to move.
“I can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head, never having been so shocked in his life.
“Believe it,” she replied, crossing the space between them and wrapping her arms around him.
The hug felt better than any orgasm he had ever had, more intimate than any moment that he had experienced. Reluctantly, after what seemed like a moment in eternity, he broke the hug, holding her at arms length, massaging her shoulders.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Yvette. Your mother told Michelle, Michelle told Yvette and Yvette told me,” Anya explained.
Georgie frowned.
“You talk to Yvette?”
Anya lowered her head, then looked back at him and replied, “Georgie, I’ve been in L.A. the whole time. I told Yvette not to tell you. It’s not her fault; she wanted to tell you, but I wouldn’t let her.”
Georgie’s facial expression showed that he was trying to wrap his head around what she had just told him.
“You what? Anya, what gave you that right?”
Georgie was vexed as he paced away from her. He couldn’t wait to see Yvette; he was going to punch her dead in the face.
“Georgie, don’t be mad. Try and look at it from my angle. You were with one of the most beautiful women in the world. How could I have competed with that?” Anya stressed.
“You didn’t. She had to compete with you,” he shot back, coming over to her.
Anya nodded.
“I sensed that. When I saw her album cover, the cut of her hair, the frosted tips… Did she know about me? Did she know what you were doing?”
“How could she.”
Anya smiled, knowingly.
Georgie shook his head. So many emotions had been bottled up inside for so long, he didn’t know where to start, until he blurted out, “Why did you leave me, Anya? Why? What happened? That night was so beautiful, and then you just leave in the middle of the night?” he questioned, his tone revealing his wounded pride.
She went to him, took his hand and they sat, side by side, on a bench.
“Georgie, we hadn’t known each other long enough for me to be feeling what I felt. Something had to be wrong, because only lies came that easily,” she explained, then smiled at him. “And you were so young, so fine, so you, I – I refused to believe, because it would’ve crushed me to find out otherwise.
“But it was real, Anya.”
“Still Georgie, you weren’t ready to love me and I wasn’t ready to be loved.”
“Anya, it’s still real,” Georgie remarked, lowering himself to one knee, holding her tiny hand in his.
She looked at him with tears brimming.
“No Georgie, you’re still not ready.”
“Ma, I was ready the first time I laid eyes on you,” he replied.
“Georgie, how can you commit to me when you’re still wearing another woman’s ring?” Anya asked, running her thumb over the band,
He dropped his head.
“She’s…dead, Anya.”
“I know,” she responded, tilting his head to look at her. “But if I’m going to do this Georgie, I have to be the only woman in your life, in your heart, mind, body and soul. All of you, Georgie, because all of me is worth no less.”
Georgie took a deep breath, and looked down at his band. He would always love Niia, but his love for Anya was greater. He was willing to give it all up to have her in his life. Slowly and symbolizing much more, he removed the band and put it on the park bench.
“I love you so much, Georgie,” Anya sobbed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
He stood up, lifting her off her feet. She wrapped her legs around him too, kissing him deeply and tonguing him lustfully.
“Don’t ever leave m
e again, Anya,” Georgie cried, tears running down his cheeks.
She kissed each and every one away. “Never, baby, never! I promise!” she exclaimed. But her voice sounded far away.
Georgie looked at her. “Huh?”
“I said never, baby, never!”
Now it seemed as if she were on TV with the volume turned down.
“Anya, I can’t hear you,” he said, anxiety creeping into his voice.
He thought he was going deaf. Anya looked at him, knowingly.
“Just know, wherever I am Georgie, I will always love you.”
“What are you saying?!” he screamed, panicked.
“I’ll always be here.”
“Anya!”
“But it’s time to let go.”
“Anyyyyyyaaa!”
“I love you, Georgie.”
And then he woke up.
It was all a dream.
He was still lying in his bed. It had felt so real. Her embrace, her breath in his face, the softness of her lips. But the only thing that had been real were the tears. They had drenched his face and they were still coming. It was like he couldn’t stop them, so he didn’t try. He let his heart have its one last cry before he let go. Georgie finally sat up and wiped his eyes. The sun was disappearing. The sky was the color of blackberry molasses…one of the things that never change.
Deep down, he had always known that he would see her again, he just didn’t know when or how. Now that he had he could finally exhale, even if it had only been a dream.
He started to go to the bathroom when he noticed something at the foot of his bed.
It was the girl with no name’s copy of Zora’s book. He smiled and picked it up. She must have snuck past Nurse Killjoy. She was showing him that she could reach him at will.
“Never underestimate a woman,” he chuckled.
He went to the bathroom, pissed, washed his hands then caught his own reflection in the mirror. His eyes were still red-rimmed and tracks of tears still glistened in the bathroom light. But he didn’t feel in any way self-conscious. It was a face of a man who loved and that is the manliest of all.
As he walked out of the bathroom and turned on the light to read, he thought to himself, is it better to have loved and lost or to have never loved at all?
He laughed and let the thoughts drift into oblivion because he knew that there was no answer. For once you have loved, you can never forget, but if you have never loved, then you will never know how much you truly have to lose.
