by Mary Monroe
“That’s good because your bed would be a lot more comfortable than that motherfucking couch! And the sooner the better. My dick’s about to bust through my jeans, girl.” Floyd looked around the room. He lifted his chin as he looked toward the kitchen and sniffed. “And I know you need me to help you get rid of the latest batch of them tea cakes Miss Viola cooked up.”
“Keep your voice down, fool! The only man that’s welcome in Viola’s house this time of night is that nephew of hers and Reverend Carter. You should know that by now,” I said under my breath. “That poor woman would have a complete breakdown if she ever found out about me fucking in her house with all these Bibles, and religious knickknacks, and pictures of Jesus scattered all over the place. And as good as she’s always been to me, she is the last person in this world I want to upset.”
Then I started sniffing in Floyd’s direction. Right away I sneezed. The potent smell of all the flowers in the room and the smell of those tea cakes coming from the kitchen seemed to permeate the air. But all that was nothing compared to the stench coming from Floyd. The smell of weed was so overwhelming I couldn’t tell where on his body it was coming from. His breath was so foul it almost blew me across the room. I cussed under my breath some more and fanned the air with both hands. Nobody liked to spark up a doobie more than me, but I knew that Viola had a major problem with anything illegal. That’s why I never indulged myself in her house. I plucked the thick, lopsided joint that Floyd had propped behind his ear and slid it into my bra.
“See, that’s what happens when we go too long without some pleasure. You get all cranky and shit,” he complained, leering at me so hard I almost lost my train of thought.
“I’m not cranky,” I insisted, letting out an exasperated breath. “I just don’t appreciate uninvited company in the middle of the night. And especially company high on weed.”
“You want me to leave?” He knew which of my buttons to push when he wanted to get his way, and he was pushing every single button I had on my body. “Graduating was a big deal for somebody like me. I wanted to do something to make it special. It was bad enough that none of my folks came to see me get my diploma. And I thought that since we didn’t get to go party like everybody else, it’d be nice for us to celebrate. I know it’s late, but I couldn’t get out of going to work. And you know I need my job.” He blew more bad-smelling breath into my face. Then he started taking slow, tentative steps toward the door, which was part of his plan to get his way. I lunged at him and clamped my hand around his arm. Just like I usually did in similar situations.
“Baby, I’m just a little on edge because of Valerie’s leaving. She’s been my girl ever since I came to live with Viola,” I told him, my bottom lip stuck out like I’d just dipped a pound of snuff.
“Let me see what I can do about getting rid of that edge,” he said wrapping his arms around me and guiding me toward that well-used couch.
If the sex had not been so good, it would have been a lot easier for me to send Floyd back out the door with his pants still zipped up, no matter how much he whined. But he was the biggest weakness I had, and keeping him happy was at the top of my list. I didn’t take him up to my room. I knew that if I did, he would have had me up the rest of the night. He didn’t like the couch any more than I did, and when we did use it, we did our business as fast as we could. Sometimes, like tonight, it seemed like a chore that I didn’t want to do in the first place. And that was the reason why I was slamming my pelvis and hips into him as hard and fast as I could, so I could get it over with as quickly as possible.
One minute later, I was sliding back into my panties and housecoat. Floyd still had his pants down around his knees and was sitting on the end of the couch staring at me. “Damn, baby. That was good, but it was over almost before it started! That kind of shit can give a brother all kinds of performance problems. Can I get a little head before I go, to even things out? I’ll never get to sleep tonight with the bucket-size load of jizz I still got. If I drip all over Glodine’s sheets, I’ll never hear the end of it,” he whispered. “I’ve been horny as hell all evening. Just seeing you in that cap and gown did something to me. You looked like a nun. I always wanted to bust a nun. All dudes do.”
“Floyd, it is two o’clock in the morning and I am not in the mood for fucking, anyway. I need to get some sleep so I can get up early tomorrow and start looking for a job.” I stopped talking and looked around the room. “Lord knows I can’t stay here forever.”
“And you won’t have to. Pretty soon we’ll have a place together.”
“I know, I know,” I replied, one hand in the air, the other on my hip. Floyd was wearing down my resistance and he knew it. I could see the satisfied look on his face. “But it’s been a long day for both of us,” I continued in a voice that was getting weaker by the second. “Let’s get together tomorrow night after you get off work. We’re both eighteen now and out of school. We don’t have to worry anymore about those foster care ‘don’t give a good goddamn, but nosy as hell anyhow’ social workers deciding what’s best for us anymore. We can do whatever we want, and we’ve got the rest of our lives to celebrate, baby. Viola gave me a few dollars for a graduation present. We can use it to get a room.”
“That’s cool, but what about now? A few more minutes is all I need. Come on, baby,” he pleaded.
I rolled my eyes and let out a breath that was so loud and strong it made Floyd rear back and gasp. “Shit! You better come real quick, or you are going to end up doing it for yourself—like you ought to be at home doing in the first place!” I hissed. I dropped to the floor on my knees, with my face inches away from his lap. I never sucked dick as hard and fast before in my life like now.
“Take it slow this time, baby. Sex ain’t nothing to play around with. Bad sex don’t do nobody no good. That’s why we got so many perverts and rapists in this country. It’s because of bad sex, or no sex. Dr. Ruth done proved it. How she proved it, I don’t know, but I doubt if she knows what she’s talking about from experience,” Floyd told me, holding my head in place. “Now, let me hush so I can . . .” He couldn’t even finish his sentence. Two seconds later it was over, and I promptly zipped him up and sent him on his way.
CHAPTER 20
I had so much on my mind after I got rid of Floyd, I couldn’t get to sleep. For the second time in less than a month, I felt really scared. Other than Floyd, I didn’t know what the future held for me.
I was glad that Viola had lived long enough to see me graduate, but eventually leaving the only “mother” I’d ever known was not going to be easy. I didn’t have any plans to move to another state or even another city, but not sharing a house with Viola anymore was going to take some getting used to. “Dolores, you can stay on here with me for the rest of your life if you want to,” she’d told me more times than I could count. And I knew she meant it. But even if Floyd had not been in the picture and we had not planned on getting married, I still would have moved out, whether I wanted to or not. Once Viola was gone, there was no telling what that asshole of a nephew of hers had up his sleeve as far as the house was concerned. The one thing I knew for sure was that even if the house was twice as big as it was, it would never be big enough for me and that greedy, self-centered punk to live in at the same time.
I hated to speak of the devil because when I got up that morning around eight, there he was. Noble was in the kitchen eating grits straight out of the pan on the stove. He had on some dingy beige Bermuda shorts and a black T-shirt that was so tight I could see the imprint of his navel and the nipples on his titties. “Girl, you must have done some serious partying last night. You look like hell,” he mumbled, talking out the side of his mouth. There was such a wad of grits in each cheek, it looked like he had the mumps. There was a large plate on the table with a few pieces of bacon still on it, some half chewed. There was enough bacon grease on his lips and chin I could have fried a chicken in it. His thick, permed, wiry brown hair stuck out in all directions. He looked like
a homely Al Sharpton. I couldn’t figure out what it was about Noble that that beautiful Mexican woman he married saw in him. And she wasn’t the only one. He had the nerve to have other women calling and leaving messages for him at Viola’s house. Like Mr. Zeke, he must have had a golden rod between his legs. Just the thought of Mr. Zeke sent sharp pains throughout my chest and head. I had to hold my breath for a moment to stay focused.
“I didn’t go to any of the parties after graduation. I came straight home,” I told him. I frowned when I saw all the eggshells, breadcrumbs, melted butter, and dirty dishes he’d left piled up on the counter for me and Viola to clean up. I was glad that he’d made a fresh pot of coffee. “Help yourself to some breakfast,” I added with a smirk. “Make yourself right at home.”
Noble was so anxious to take possession of Viola’s house, he already had some of his mail coming to her address. He was moving in little by little. Every time he showed up, he brought a few pieces of clothing or some other possession that he stored in the guest room upstairs across the hall from mine. He had his own key, so hiding and not opening the door when he came knocking was not an option for me when I was in the house alone.
When he finally swallowed the grits, he did it so hard it made his head bob and his eyes water. Then he let out a belch that sounded like a fart. “I am at home,” he reminded me, fanning his pudgy face. He sat down at the table with a thud and a groan. “In case you didn’t know, I lived here for years before Auntie got stuck with you. She tells me all the time that I’m the son she always wanted.” He wiped grease and butter off his lips, cheeks, and his three chins, using a handkerchief the size of a diaper that he’d snatched out of his pocket. Then he gave me an amused look. I poured myself a cup of coffee and then plopped down hard in a wobbly metal chair directly across from him at the cluttered kitchen table. The table had been in the house longer than I had, but the chairs were fairly new. Viola had bought them used from a yard sale in Pasadena, but they didn’t come anywhere near matching the table or anything else in the kitchen. But things like that never stopped Viola from taking advantage of a bargain. The chairs had such high backs I felt like I was sitting on a cheap throne.
“Uh, now that you out of school, what you plan on doing next?” Noble asked, wiggling his wide load of an ass in his seat like it was itching. “Aunt Viola’s got one foot in the grave and the other on a slippery slope, bless her heart. I know my boobie won’t be around too much longer, so I plan on spending as much time with her in her last days as I can. I want her to know she was loved to the end of her days. That way, when she goes, she’ll go with a smile on her face. . . .” Like with almost every other thing he said to me, what he said and what he meant were two different things. What he was really asking me now was when I was going to get my ass out of his auntie’s house so he could do whatever it was he wanted to do with it.
“That’s good because I’m getting married soon,” I announced with a proud sigh. “I’ll feel better knowing Viola’s not in this house by herself.”
“Married? You? To who?” he demanded, looking shocked. As dumpy and lumpy as that body of his was, he sat up so straight in that high back metal chair it looked like he’d been impaled.
“I’m marrying Floyd Watson,” I said firmly and proudly. I took a sip from my coffee cup, screwing up my face because not only was it weak, it smelled and tasted like Lemon Joy, which meant Noble had washed the coffeepot but he had not rinsed it thoroughly. I couldn’t imagine how this man had managed to land a job as a dishwasher at an upscale San Diego restaurant and still be there after so many years.
“Floyd Watson? What in the world—I know damn well you ain’t planning on wasting your life up on a thug like Floyd! A pretty girl like you could do a whole lot better than a scalawag like Floyd. He ain’t got nothing to offer you! Ain’t he caught up in that gang mess? You keep hanging around with him and we’ll read about you in the newspaper—the obituaries!”
“Floyd has never been in a gang,” I said in a stern voice. “Some of his friends are in gangs, and some of my friends are in gangs. I’ve never been in a gang, either. He’s going to the military so he can get some training and benefits. And I plan on working, too.” I heard Viola shuffling into the kitchen, coughing and wheezing all the way.
“Good morning, Aunt Viola. How you feeling? I got breakfast ready,” Noble said in a voice so sweet it would have made a Snickers candy bar seem bitter. He rose and wobbled up, and then he waddled across the floor to help Viola to one of her metal chairs. I didn’t know what it was about old people that made it so hard for them to do such a simple thing as sit down in a chair. From the tortured look on Viola’s face, you would have thought that her body was on fire. Even with Noble holding onto her arm and helping her ease down, she sat down with such a thud the floor shook. But as soon as she got comfortable, she seemed fine. She gave me one of her warmest smiles, then she looked up at her nephew and smiled at him, too. He stood over her like a prison guard. “Dolores was just telling me how she can’t wait to get married and get a place of her own. . . .”
Viola, with beads of sweat all over her face, suddenly looked at me with both eyebrows raised. “Lo, I done already told you, just because you and Floyd plan on getting married, you ain’t got to move out. I meant it when I said you could stay in this house ’til the day you die. This is your home now and it will be, even after I’m gone.”
“I know, I know. But Floyd wants us to have a place all our own, right off the bat,” I replied, squeezing Viola’s clammy hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Noble looking at me with such contempt I decided to leave the room. I knew that if I stayed around him too much longer, I would not be responsible for my actions. “I’m going to run over to Valerie’s to tell her good-bye,” I said, walking toward the door. Noble now had a puzzled look on his face. “Valerie’s taking her grandfather to Memphis to live with relatives,” I explained. I rushed out of the kitchen, but I slowed down once I got to the living room because Noble had already started running off at the mouth about my ongoing presence in Viola’s house.
“She ain’t even blood, Auntie. You don’t owe her a damn thing. You got other kinfolks that could occupy that room she’s been roosting in all these years—rent free!” he snarled.
My blood boiled as I eavesdropped on the conversation taking place at the breakfast table. I got as close as I could to the door leading into the kitchen, pressing my ear even closer to the wall. But I still couldn’t hear Viola’s response. It didn’t matter to me one way or the other now. I knew that Viola was sincere, but I no longer felt at home in her house, even if it was the only place that I’d lived in for the past eleven years. This was a feeling that a lot of kids in foster care shared. That’s why so many of us moved on as soon as we reached the legal age. And I didn’t care if Floyd and I had to live in a cardboard box as long as we were together.
CHAPTER 21
I sucked in a deep breath of air as soon as I made it outside. The grass was still moist from the morning dew, but it was a typical June day in L.A. There was a bright, warm sun in a bright blue sky, but so was the ever-present smog.
Some of our neighbors, still in housecoats and house shoes, were already out washing cars in driveways or mowing lawns. Most of them clutched either a coffee cup or a tall glass with an iced drink. I even saw one shirtless man walking down the street with a bottle of beer in his hand. I ignored a trio of Jehovah’s Witnesses in dull-looking brown suits shuffling toward me with hopeful looks on their faces. Each one held a fistful of those pamphlets they were known to peddle. One even had a bulging briefcase. I held up my hand and shook my head as soon as one made eye contact with me. I glanced to the side. Mrs. Scott was hovering over her rose garden, pampering each bush as if it were a cute child. When she looked up, I didn’t know if the scowl on her face was for me or the Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Jeffrey Wallis, a tall, sad-faced boy who lived in the green stucco house right next door to the church, had been in my gra
duating class. He was crawling out of a limo carrying his shoes and didn’t even see me. That boy was so drunk, he could barely stand. His mother was already fussing at him as she ran out of her house with bare feet to help him into the house. I managed a weak smile. Jeffrey and I had never been close friends, but I was glad to see that he had taken advantage of some of the parties the night before. I slid my tongue across my bottom lip, thinking about what I had done a few hours earlier. Even though I’d fussed up a storm about Floyd dropping in on me, I’d enjoyed his company, after all. And that was a good thing because with Valerie leaving, I’d have to depend on Floyd to keep me company even more now.
Miss Naomi saw me before I saw her, so by the time I stumbled up to her front porch she had already opened the door. I didn’t know how to interpret the expression on her face. There was a blank look in her eyes, and her lips were pressed together so tight, it looked like she had one thick lip. She wore a long-sleeved white blouse, tied around her head like a scarf. She wore a green flannel housecoat over her clothes and a pair of Paw Paw’s large, backless house shoes that looked like canoes on her tiny feet.
Before I could even speak, Miss Naomi told me in a raspy voice, “You too late. You missed Valerie. She booked an earlier flight. She and Paw Paw are already in Memphis by now.”
“Oh,” I muttered. “I had wanted to ride along to the airport and say my good-byes there,” I managed, blinking hard to hold back my tears. It had been a while since I’d had a good cry, and it took a lot for me to get that emotional. I hadn’t shed a single tear the night I saw Valerie kill Zeke. As a matter of fact, Luther’s funeral was the last time I’d cried. I suddenly felt dizzy. Before I knew what was happening to me, I was swaying like Jeffrey Wallis just did, crawling out of that limo across the street. Miss Naomi took a couple of steps toward me as I grabbed a hold of the banister. “I’m all right,” I assured her, standing up straight, forcing myself to smile.
