The Countdown to Thirty

by Nefertiti Faraj

  “How the hell are we supposed to get out of here?” I asked myself while looking around the store to gage the reactions of the other patrons. Coincidently my eyes met the lingering gaze of the guy who recovered my baseball cap as he stood in the magazine section. He didn’t smile with his mouth this time; instead his eyes offered a warm hello again like he was speaking to me from across the store without saying a word. He didn’t seem to be too concerned about the storm. Instead all of his attention was on me.

  “I know he’s not trying to flirt. Is he? I look a hot mess.” I thought as I flashed him a very quick and routine smile before turning back around in line.

  The other patrons who had already purchased their items began to gather at the front entrance, refusing to go out into the storm. There was no way anyone could drive in this weather, there was too much rain and wind to see clearly. You’d be lucky to make it out of the parking lot without getting into an accident.

  Suddenly I felt dumber than dumb for going out in the rain to relive a wet dream with the former love-of-my-life turned psychopath. Not to mention guilty. I hated to admit it to myself but I was almost just as pathetic as Terry and her prison pen pals; almost but not quite. Yet still, I couldn’t manage to step out of the line and place the batteries back in their respective rack, I had needs after all. I made my mind up right then, right there that I would never ever fascinate or relive another sexual experience with Lamont. He didn’t deserve it plus I could only imagine his reaction if he knew just how much I missed his touch. His ego would be through the roof.

  I paid cash for the batteries after throwing in a Snickers and a pack of Five Gum then headed towards the store entrance to revel at the power of the storm. There were about ten or so other people who were also gathered at the door. Looking outside I watched a few cars pull over to the side of the road and flash their emergency lights to let other cars know they were there. The stop lights at the four-way intersection had gone out and were blinking steady yellow lights just like the cars. Others were either incredibly brave, incredibly stupid or both and continued on driving while their windshield wipers swished back and forth doubtfully making their vision of the road any clearer.

  “I think I’m going to make a run for it.” A thirty-or-so year old white man said to the group.

  Was he crazy? A run for it where, to his car and then do what?

  Then the same deep voice I heard earlier spoke up from behind frightening me, “Sir, I don’t think you should do that.”

  I turned around and there was my hat saving friend, speaking with enough power and authority to command the attention of the group.

  He towered over us with his tall physique; I was guessing 6’4 or so, while looking the khaki shorts wearing man right in the eyes; taking ownership of his statement. He must have annoyed the man because he crossed his arms over his chest while he rolled his eyes and redirected his attention back to the storm.

  I shook my head back and forth, “Some people.” I said under my breath.

  A few moments later I was surprisingly aroused when I heard my friends whisper in my ear, “Watch, he’s gonna make a run for it.” He advised. The masculinity in his voice and the spicy cinnamon scent from his breath against my skin caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand with excitement.

  I turned to my left to face my friend who had keenly moved forward and taken a stance right next to me. He looked at me with steady eyes once again making his interest in me known.

  “How do you know?” I asked attempting to withhold the arousing feeling he’d just given me but still coming across with slightly more interest then I wanted to convey.

  “Look at him,” he said inching a little closer to me, “He’s mad. He wants to prove a point, he’s arrogant.

  I chuckled a little bit, “And what are you?” I asked as another powerful round of thunder and lightning struck lighting up the opaque sky.

  He stood with his hands deep in his pockets as he gave a sexy laugh, “I’m not arrogant, but I’m good at reading people. Just watch.”

  With curiosity, I turned back towards the crowd standing closer than ever now with this man who’d just made my heart skip a beat. I turned my head to get another quick look at him, God his profile was sexy. I wanted to stare longer but when he turned and his eyes met mine I felt a surge of embarrassment and quickly diverted my attention back to the white man in khakis. Not a moment later just as predicted there he went dashing out the doors holding his CVS bag in his left hand and his car keys in his right. We all watched closely as he jumped off the sidewalk in his beige flip flops while his white t-shirt quickly became soaked and tight around his body.

  “He’s not gonna make it,” said my friend.

  Without realizing I’d inched even closer to his side, shoulder to shoulder with him now as I tried to get a better view. He didn’t seem to mind. And Like clockwork, the foolish man skid in his flip flops, lost all possible balance and landed on his butt right in the middle of the parking lot. Simultaneously everyone in the group, including myself, let out a loud gasp as we painfully watched him fall to his humiliation.

  “See,” he stated with a grin on his face.

  I tried to hold in my laughter but as I watched the man agonizingly stand up, his khaki shorts now exposed a large, wet, black spot right in the ass area. I erupted into uncontrollable laughter that I tried to silence but was left unsuccessful. With my stomach clenched tight as I bent over with giggles, tears began to fall from the corner of my eyes. My dreaded up friend joined me in the moment while some of the other patrons snickered along and others gawked at us like we were the lowest human beings on earth.

  Trying to regain control over myself I faced my friend and said, “You know we shouldn’t be laughing like this,” while laughing all the while.

  Still in the middle of his deep and steady chortle he responded, “Yeah but it’s funny. He’s not hurt, just his pride is.”

  The man limped back into the store with a sour look on his face as the group made way for him. He was dripping wet, dirty and visibly pissed-the-fuck off. I quickly turned around and tried to muffle another burst of laughter but it was too hard. The man had already spotted me and looked like he wanted to break me in two.

  “Here,” My friend said as he unfolded a plastic lawn chair that was on sale in the store. “We might be here for a little while, so if you don’t want to end up like humpty dumpty over there, put your feet up and relax.”

  He placed the blue and white striped plastic chair down near a haunted house display that was filled with candy for sale and covered in artificial spider webs. This guy made me laugh, he was smooth and his offer was tempting, so I sat. But only because there was no telling how long I was going to be trapped in this store. I watched him unfold his chair with confidence as if he wasn’t worried about a store clerk stopping him. His medium lengthened dreads swayed back and forth as he hovered over his chair positioning it just right.

  Still unfazed by the monsoon we were experiencing, he extended his large veiny hand and said, “I’m Kyle.”

  With mild hesitation I accepted his greeting and shook his hand, “Sonya, nice to meet you.”

  I wasn’t use to meeting men anymore, let alone being stuck in the store with one unable to leave when I wanted. My stomach was filled with butterflies as I sat there next to Mr. Kyle.

  I wondered how good of a lover he was.

  “Nice to meet you to,” he responded, “I guess the weatherman was right huh?”

  “Yea, I guess he was. It was so nice out earlier, I can’t believe it turned into all of this.”

  He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees as he spoke to me, “So Sonya, what was so important that it brought you out from the comfort of your home into the middle of a storm?” His inquisitive eyes looked like he was enjoying this, having me cornered with no choice but to speak to him.

  I couldn’t answer that question truthfully so instead I lied…sort of, “Batteries…for my remote. I kn
ew it was going to be a long night with the storm and all and I didn’t want to be up and down with the TV all night.” I said playing it off like it was no big deal. “It was raining when I left but I thought I’d be home before it got this bad.”

  He laughed, “Yea me to….actually, I took a walk to the store instead of driving. Guess I picked the wrong day to stretch my legs.”

  Looking at him with surprise I said dramatically, “Oh, so you don’t know-it-all.”

  Revealing his pearly white teeth he gave a modest smile, “No I don’t.”

  Then he paused before he spoke again, “But I do know if you had a good man at home you wouldn’t be stuck in a storm buying batteries for your uh…remote.”

  He knew! I knew he knew! For your uh, remote, he thought he was funny. My face got warm again and any minute now my little chocolate cheeks were going to be painted red. But I had to admit he had a point, if I wanted a man and had a good one, there’s no way in hell I’d be sitting in a plastic lawn chair inside CVS; instead I’d be at home creating the real thunder and lightning in the bedroom.

  I didn’t quite have a comeback I could say out loud for that one so I didn’t respond. For a moment there was an awkward silence between us, but I could tell he wanted to say more.

  “So,” he said finally breaking that silence, “you grew up here right?”

  “Yes,” I replied warily.

  “You probably went to Cimarron High School, graduated class of 06’ with honors and got crowned Homecoming Queen, am I correct?” He said way too confidently.

  I stiffened. Who was this guy? How did he know so much information about me? Suddenly this game wasn’t so fun anymore.

  “Yes,” I said circumspectly ready to ease myself out of the lawn chair and take my chances with the storm, “How do you know all of that?”

  He chuckled then moistened his lips with his tongue as he began, “We went to the same high school. We had a few classes together.”

  Still skeptical and caught off-guard I challenged, “Which classes?”

  “Well,” he stared, “I sat behind you in Mr. Jefferson’s physics class in tenth grade, Mrs. Toussaint’s English class in 11th grade and I sat beside you in Mr. Ojeda’s film class senior year. If it means anything, you looked cute out there earlier chasing you cap.” He chuckled again before continuing, “To be honest I wasn’t even coming here, I was jogging back to the house when I saw you in the parking lot. You’re still beautiful. I could see that a mile away.” My heart began to beat a little faster and those butterflies in my stomach we’re fluttering like they were invited guests instead of pests. I took a deep gulp not knowing quite how to respond. My eyes focused in on his baby smooth chocolate skin, sensuous soft lips and sexy flowing dreads that complimented him oh so well. I wondered how long it took him to grow them, then how it would feel to pull on them if we were tangled in bed together.

  Stop it Sonya! Get your mind out the damn gutter!

  Instead of telling him every dirty, kinky, nasty thought I was thinking at the moment I replied, “Hmmm, okay let me think.”

  I hadn’t been to high school in nearly a decade and shamefully couldn’t remember many people from those days, but I wondered how a fine one like this slipped past my radar. I had vague memories of Mr. Jefferson’s Physics class and that was partly due to fact that I hated Physics. Mrs. Toussaint’s class was somewhat of a blur but that could be because she was one of the strictest teachers in the school and opposed any talking or fun so I don’t recall him there either. Now Mr. Ojeda’s film class I loved. It’s where I first learned of the classics like Sunset Boulevard, Vertigo and The Graduate. He said he sat beside me, but I still couldn’t remember Kyle. Could this guy be lying in order to flirt with me?

  Well if he was lying he wouldn’t know what classes you took obviously.

  “I don’t remember I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t have to be sorry. I was a real quiet dude back then being new to the city and all, a little too quiet. I use to spend a lot of time writing rhymes or drawing cartoons and crazy shit like that. Right after graduation I went back to Boston with my Dad. Came back and look who I run into, Ms. Homecoming Queen herself.” He said flattering me in a genteel way.

  So that’s a Boston accent I’ve been hearing. I was guessing more New York. Goes to show you how much I know about the east coast.

  “Thank you,” I blushed after every piece of flesh in my body did exactly what my mind told it not to do which was blush.

  “So you didn’t really come to the store for that magazine and bag of Funyuns?” I asked pointing at the random contents in his bag and getting down to his true motives, or maybe even mines.

  He smiled, “No not at all.”

  Being stuck in a store during a storm and forced to converse with this mysterious Mandingo will definitely be a good addition to my boring diary. I could see it now, reading that entry back a year down the line and wondering what ever happened to him, trying to remember why he made me so damn horny and why my butterflies never stopped fluttering. It was something about the raspy tone in his voice and his self-assured demeanor that had my interest perked, that kept my mind drifting to what pure uninhibited sex with him would be like. My thoughts were so loud I was grateful for the roaring thunder.

  “So tell me, are you married, single, in a relationship?”

  Geesh, I guess he really has changed. He knows how to ask the tough questions like nothing.

  Yea he sure isn’t worried about drawing cartoons now.

  “I’m single, I’ve never been married.”

  Fifteen minutes of convo later the rain had mercy on us all and finally slowed its pace to a light shower. My silent prayers had been answered and I didn’t need to keep up my charade of pleasantries with Kyle. I know what he wants from me because it’s the same thing my body craves from him, sex, and that’s not going to happen.

  Most of the group by now had scattered throughout the store but were now headed to the entrance to make a quick getaway while the coast was clear.

  “Well it was nice seeing you again,” I said to Kyle as I stood and began to fold my chair.

  He quickly stood and took over possession of my chair, folding it back into place. We stood face-to-face as he looked me in the eyes with deep intensity, casting a spell over me which caused me to be momentarily hypnotized by his beauty.

  “Let me take you out to dinner.” He said smoothly as he again moistened his full brown lips with his tongue. If he only knew what he was doing to me inside. As a matter of fact I bet he did, I bet he was used to having his way with women and making them fall in love then breaking their hearts when things got too serious.

  I didn’t have time for this but I couldn’t be rude to him, “I can’t, I’m really busy.” I lied.

  “Maybe when you’re not busy then,” He responded while placing the chairs back where he’d gotten them from then following me out the store.

  “I’m always busy.” I said releasing a laugh.

  We parted ways and I began walking towards my car. I turned to flash him a genuine smile this time, “Thanks for the hat.”

  He stood there with a smile of his own watching me as I walked away, “Your welcome.”

  Not until I got into the car did I feel completely comfortable again. No more nasty thoughts and no more flirtatious conversation. Releasing a sigh of relief, I put my key into the ignition and turned it but heard nothing. I stepped harder on the break and tried turning the key again, but still I heard nothing but silence.

  “No, no, no, shit!” I said as I gave the steering wheel a solid punch.

  I tried starting the Mitsubishi again, praying that this time I’d hear the roar of my engine as soon as I turned my key…but I was wrong. I let out a loud groan and gently rested my head on the steering wheel while I contemplated what to do next.

  My roadside assistance card! I could call roadside assistance and they’ll send somebody out to help me. I reached in my purse for my wallet then pu
lled out my member’s card and called their 1-800 number. When the rep on the other end of the line told me my membership expired a month ago and that she couldn’t help me unless I paid a hundred dollars to reinstate my roadside coverage I yelled, “I’m broke, how’s that gonna help me!” Then hung up in her face in frustration.

  Thanks to the rent and car payment I just made it wiped me out. My bank account was barely alive, surviving on a measly fourteen bucks after my CVS purchase.

  With my head resting on the steering wheel I went back and forth in my mind between calling my mother or Saundra for the money for a tow to the nearest auto shop, which I knew I wouldn’t be able to afford, then a ride home where I should have been in the first place. I knew neither one would mind helping me but I didn’t want to ask. I was tired of asking for favors because my luck was shit.

  Knock! Knock! Knock!

  I jumped in my seat and almost had a near heart attack at the loud knocking on my driver side window. I wore a look of fright until my eyes adjusted and realized Kyle was the one knocking.

  “He must know I’m in trouble,” I thought as I tried to roll down my window with no luck. I did my best to put a pleasant look on my face as I opened the door but that was easier said than done, it was obvious that I was stressed out.

  “You need some help?” He asked.

  “No, I think I’ll be okay. I’m going to call AAA here in a minute.” I lied.

  “Let me help you, pop your hood.” He said as he walked to the front of my car ready to inspect.

  My hood? Where the hell was the switch or the lever for that?

  Right there and then I told myself that if I was going to be on my Ms. Independent status I needed to learn how to fix a damn car, or at least be able to locate the lever for the hood.

  Embarrassingly I called out from the driver’s seat with a nervous laugh, “I’m not really sure where that is.”