by Landis Lain
“I’ve been missing you,” he said. Sasha rolled her eyes.
“I take it you are locked up again,” she said.
“Just a little temporary vacation,” Craig said. “I had some tickets. My lawyer is working a deal.”
“Oh.”
“That was your rug rat, huh?” he said.
“Yes,” said Sasha. She didn’t want to admit it, but too many people knew the truth. She glanced at the baby, sleeping peacefully on the bed, next to her. She rubbed at her wrist; the fading bruises still vivid in her mind weeks later. “What about it?”
“What’s his name?”
“Ricky.”
“You didn’t name him after me?”
“No.”
“Bring him to see me,” said Craig.
“Why would I do anything for you?” asked Sasha. She was incredulous.
“Because if you don’t, something bad might happen to your family,” he said.
“You’re threatening the baby, now?” Sasha’s lip trembled. She bit it. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“I want to see my kid,” he said.
“And if I don’t bring him?” she asked.
“I need to send my boys to explain the facts of life to you, again?” he asked.
“K Smooth asked me the same question and then he hurt me,” said Sasha. “You leave my baby out of this or…”
Craig interrupted. “What we did is going to make what’s going to happen to you feel like the kiss of love if you don’t cooperate. He paused. “I need to ask the question again?”
Sasha shook her head.
“I didn’t hear you,” he said.
Sasha cleared her throat and whispered. “I said no.”
Craig laughed. “I’ll be in touch. Merry Christmas, sweet thing.”
Sasha tapped the phone screen to disconnect and dropped it on the bed. She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling.
TRAUMATIZED
December 31,
I stayed at Mama’s for most of winter break. I stayed in my old room, trying to study. I told Mama I wanted to get a head start on next term, but really, I was hiding. When we went to the store, I saw some of D Dog’s boys. They watched me. They didn’t approach me because I was with Mama, but it made me sick anyway. I want to block his number but I’m afraid of what D Dog might do.
I miss Suleiman, yet I’m glad he’s not here to see me unravel. He called a few times, but I just texted him that things were busy, and I’d see him in January. I take two, three showers a day and still cannot feel clean. Gabby texted but nothing has changed. Mama asked if I wanted to go out for New Year’s Eve. But I said no. That’s how my troubles started; with a party. Happy New Year, Sasha.
“Ricky is going to be a year old in two weeks.” Sasha was curled up in the recliner, biting the skin around her ravaged fingernails.
“Have you planned anything for his first birthday,” asked Dr. Michelle.
Sasha shook her head. “I don’t like parties.”
“Why?”
“I have to celebrate my shame every year.”
“What are you ashamed of?”
“Single mama,” said Sasha. “No daddy. My judgment stinks. Nothing to celebrate.”
Dr. Michelle shifted in her seat and kicked off her red high heeled pumps.
“Have you harmed yourself?
“No.”
“Have you harmed your baby or anybody else?”
“No.”
“Are you still making those types of decisions? The poor ones?”
“No,” said Sasha, shaking her head.
“You’re doing better.”
“I understand that things are going better. I know that I’ve made good choices. I just don’t feel that confidence in here, you know?” Sasha pressed a fist to her chest. “What if I do something stupid?”
“What do you want to do?” asked Dr. Michelle.
“Get into bed and pull the covers over my head,” said Sasha. “Why can’t people just leave me alone? I’m not bothering them.”
“What people?”
FRIENDED
January 12th,
I’m glad that school starts this week. Mama keeps asking me what’s wrong. I don’t tell her, so she gets mad. She’d be furious if I admitted that Craig is still in my life. I told her about Suleiman, instead. Mama didn’t like that either. What is the point in asking me a question when I cannot be honest? I wanted to cry but no tears came, so I just added it to another thing that I can’t wrap my brain around. Who made the rule that men and women cannot be friends? The rules can change, can’t they? People change the rules to suit themselves all the time.
“Mama said that women and men cannot be friends with each other,” said Sasha. They were sitting, eating lunch at the MSU International Center between classes. Suleiman had just come back after Christmas break and they were catching up between classes.
“Not true,” said Suleiman. “No disrespect to your moms.”
“So,” said Sasha, casually. She twirled her fork in her chicken Caesar salad. “You don’t want to have sex with me?”
Suleiman glanced up from his roast beef sandwich and snorted. “I’m a dude. Of course, I want to have sex with you.”
Sasha was crushed. Just when she was starting to trust him, he made her take a step back. The tightness that never left
squeezed her chest. She ate a mouthful of salad. It tasted like sawdust.
Suleiman put his sandwich down.
“Don’t look at me like that, Sash,” he said.
He reached out and took her hand.
“You brought it up,” he said, voice gentle. “We are honest with each other. I’m not going to lie to you about something so elemental. You are a beautiful young woman. I am a young man. I’m going to look. I’m going to want to touch. There is major chemistry between us. That is why we like each other so much. What is this really about?”
“I don’t know, but it seems like girls don’t like each other because they want to compete over some guy and guys don’t like girls, except to have sex with them. Then, they don’t like them anymore,” said Sasha.
“What girls? Is there a rule or something?” asked Suleiman, bewildered. “Where was I when this rule was handed down and where is it written?”
“We haven’t had sex.”
“True,” said Suleiman. “And I still like you.”
“Okay.”
“Would you still like me if we never had sex?”
“Of course,” said Sasha. “But I’m a girl.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“Well, that is insulting. You just told me that girls don’t like each other. If you don’t like girls, there is some self-hatred going on there. If you hate yourself, you sure as heck cannot like me,” said Suleiman. “Maybe you need to update your definition of friendship. Or better yet, upgrade.”
“What does it mean to you?”
“A friend is somebody who you hang with because you want to,” said Suleiman. He grabbed his pop and took a long
drink. He swallowed and then continued, pointing the coke bottle toward her. “They meet you where you are and keep walking with you no matter what. Even during the bad stuff.”
“Are we friends?” asked Sasha, wistfully.
“Of course,” said Suleiman, nodding. “I’m honored to be your friend.”
“Even though you’d like to have sex with me?”
“I don’t see that the two are mutually exclusive,” said Suleiman, with a shrug.
“You are such a guy,” said Sasha. “You don’t understand.”
“I would if you’d explain it to me.”
“Urgh, sometimes you make me want to scream!” Sasha looked at the ceiling and clenched her fists. “I want to feel safe!”
“If I can get through the Marine Corps,” he said. “I can exercise some self-control. You are safe.”
“I don’t want to cause you problems.” She bit the skin around her thum
b.
“What problems? You are not ready for anything like that,” said Suleiman, frowning. “I get it. It’s enough for us to be friends. If that changes, I will let you know.” He reached over and pulled her thumb away from her mouth.
“Cut it out.”
“Are you sure?” asked Sasha, anxiously. “My old boyfriend used to tell me it was painful to be around me if we couldn’t have sex. Like I was doing something to him just by being female.”
Suleiman rolled his eyes and picked up his sandwich.
“We have already established that dude had maggots for brains,” said Suleiman. He finished his sandwich in three quick bites.
“How so?” asked Sasha.
“Is he or is he not your ex-boyfriend?”
“He is.”
“Well, then,” said Suleiman, and crossed his eyes. “He obviously treated you badly. He is ex for a reason.”
Sasha laughed. “You know you eat like somebody is going to steal your food!”
Suleiman stuck out his tongue. He eyed Sasha’s untouched fries like a hungry wolf. “At least I’m not pushing lettuce around on my plate like a starving refugee child who’s got to make her only meal last a long time. Or trying to live off my bitten fingernails.”
“Whatever,” said Sasha, smiling.
“What don’t I understand?”
“He didn’t hit me or anything,” said Sasha, sobering. “I wouldn’t be with a guy who hit me.”
“You need to establish some higher standards,” said Suleiman. He swiped a French fry from her plate. “He didn’t hit me leaves a lot of room for fooling. I saw those bruises on your wrist. That was no love touch.” Sasha nodded at the truth of that statement but didn’t explain. It was all right with her for Craig to take the blame.
“Dudes don’t even have to really like the girls they mess around with,” said Sasha. “They just do it. And get away with it.”
“Unfair,” said Suleiman. He paused to lick ketchup off his thumb and wipe his hands with his napkin. He tossed the napkin on the table. He pointed his finger at her. “You didn’t answer my question. What is this about?”
“You are a guy,” said Sasha. “Your identity is not all wrapped up in how sexually appealing you are. You can sleep with a hundred girls and you get props. I got labelled.”
“For what?” he asked. “Did you sleep with a hundred girls?”
“No!”
“Me neither,” he said.
“I’m serious,” said Sasha. “There is such a double standard.”
“That’s true, sometimes,” acknowledged Suleiman. “But for the record, I’m no pimp Daddy. I had a couple of girlfriends in high school, one of whom ditched me at the prom for her ex-boyfriend. I had one in the military. Between combat and cooties, I was careful.”
“Yeah, but nobody would judge you for it if there were more girls in your naked city,” said Sasha. “Guys will get with a girl and then call her names like sleazy or easy or worse. It’s so unfair.”
Suleiman nodded.
“You have to remember one thing,” he said.
“What?” asked Sasha.
“I’m not that guy.”
“This is not about you,” said Sasha.
“No, it’s about you,” said Suleiman, gently. “I thought we got this straight. I go visit my people for Christmas break and come back and suddenly you are scared of me again. What’s up with that?”
Sasha shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
Suleiman scowled.
“It’s something,” he said. “What happened?”
Sasha shrugged.
“That fool hurt you again?” He straightened in his chair.
She shook her head. “He hasn’t come around.”
“Do you want him to?”
“No, not ever.”
“Good,” Suleiman said, shoulders relaxing.
Sasha changed the subject. “How was home?”
“Awesome.” Suleiman grinned. “Got to see my granddad.”
“That’s cool.”
“He is my dude,” said Suleiman. “He’s taught me a lot.”
“Like what?”
“Like,” said Suleiman, “that there is a difference between a gentle man and a gentleman.”
“Really?” asked Sasha, leaning her chin on her palm. “What is it?”
“A gentle man won’t hit you. He’ll be polite. He might even spend money on you,” said Suleiman. “He’ll have sex and make it feel good. But it will go no deeper than that, no matter how you feel about him.”
“And a Gentleman?” asked Sasha, cocking her head to the side.
“He might want you to the end of the world,” said Suleiman, seriously. “But he will love you enough to give you what you want and need.”
“How’s a girl to know the difference?”
“You have to watch what he does,” said Suleiman.
“Oh, that’ll work,” said Sasha, sarcastically. “While I’m trying to figure out what he means when he says something, he’ll just do what he wants and maybe apologize later.”
“For the record, if you offered, I’d be all over you like a bad rash,” said Suleiman.
Sasha’s mouth fell open. She tensed.
He held up his hand. “But, I am a Gentleman in addition to a gentle man. I don’t sleep with every woman that I’m physically attracted to. Quiet as it’s kept, some women don’t like me. I do not sleep with unwilling women. No means no all day and all-night long. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I will not hurt you, at least not on purpose. Thus, you are safe, until you make the offer.”
“What if I never make the offer?” she said.
“Then we stay friends,” he said, with a shrug. “I’ll still love you. Trust; every dude I have ever come across has had the ‘I just want to be friends’, speech from some babe that they wanted more from. I’ll handle it.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt ‘safe’ with a man, before,” said Sasha. Suleiman was silent for a long moment.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Shazam! I feel like I should apologize for men around the world.”
“But, I feel safe with you.” Sasha tested the words in her mind and found that they were true. The cold tightness that was always present in her chest eased just a bit.
“Yeah?” he asked.
Sasha nodded. “Yeah.”
She smiled at him. He smiled back and winked at her. Sasha ate some more of her salad. Suleiman watched her and then said, “You gonna eat those fries?”
She shook her head and pushed the plate across the table to him. He poured what looked like the whole bottle of ketchup over the fries and wolfed them down.
“I’m thinking of taking a weight lifting class next semester,” said Sasha.
“Not unless you start eating,” said Suleiman. “You weigh, what? A buck oh-five?”
“I eat,” protested Sasha. “And I’m not that skinny.”
“You need to take a fork-lifting class,” said Suleiman, picking up her fork to spear a piece of chicken from her plate. He held it out to her across the table. “Eat, lady. You’re about to be two dimensional.”
Sasha opened her mouth and he popped the chicken into it. She chewed slowly and then swallowed. He held up another piece of chicken. He wasn’t satisfied until she’d finished all the chicken and most of the salad. She took the fork from him.
“Enough,” she said, setting the fork down.
“Not nearly,” he said, serious. “But I’ll let you slide, this time. We need to go to class.”
“Can you teach me to fight?” asked Sasha. Suleiman looked surprised. He sat back in his seat.
“Sure,” he said. “Any time.” He picked up the cellophane package from his tray and tore it open. He leaned forward and handed one of his chocolate chip cookies to her.
“You notice that I’m still sharing my cookies with you even though you won’t have sex with me?” he asked. “That is true friendship.”
“You’re stupid.�
� Sasha laughed and took a bite.
“You can love me, anyway,” he said wagging his eyebrows.
She wrinkled her nose at him. They put on their coats, picked up their book bags and headed to class.
EXHAUSTED
January 15,
Ricky had his first birthday party. Mama insisted. What an almost disaster it was. Mama kept giving Suleiman these weird looks and Ricky was terrified of Chuckie Cheese. I didn’t like him much myself. Should have had a cupcake and a candle and called it good.
“Chuck,” said Suleiman, to the party mascot. “Unfortunately, you cannot approach the birthday boy. He is not feeling you at all.” Every time the grinning giant rat got within ten feet of Ricky he wailed like someone was killing him.
Chuckie Cheese nodded his giant head and strolled off to play with some children who wanted him around. Sasha had just got Ricky quieted down from his last bout of screeching.
“Give me the baby!” Sasha’s mother was peremptory. “He is just like his mama with the stuffed animal terror.”
In the way of tired screechy ornery babies, Ricky would only go to Suleiman, holding his hands up in supplication. Suleiman picked him up and with a sheepish smile to Sasha’s mother, strolled off to the play area where he sat in front of a video game with Ricky on his lap and they shot space invaders.
“Ricky loves that boy,” said Mama, watching Sasha closel
“I know,” said Sasha. “And Suleiman loves him back. Whenever Ricky is cranky and it’s just us two, I know it’s because he is missing Suleiman.”
“Nothing inappropriate is going on between you and that boy is it?”
Sasha started to roll her eyes but checked the impulse. “No, Mama. Suleiman is a friend who happens to love my son. He helps sometimes with Ricky. I help him with his school work. We help each other. He’s smart. We are friends. But we are not doing anything.”
Her mother snorted. “Is he gay?”
“Mama!”
“Well, I just asked.”
“No, Mama,” said Sasha. “Suleiman is not gay, not that it matters. He is a gentleman.”
