He courted Denise but she was as afraid of him as she was intrigued. Soon, they were an item, but try as he might, Robert couldn’t get her to have sex with him. Normally, he would have dropped her but he was a different man now and there were always those girls who would do that for you.
He stayed with Denise and her sweetness opened him to feelings that he used to think were for punks and weaker men.
Robert graduated from high school with no academic distinction. He was a baseball jock and set his sights on making it in the major leagues. Baseball had recently begun a full-scale integration. The Detroit Tigers, unfortunately, were among the last teams to integrate and it was his dream to play for them.
Robert tried out for the team but didn’t make the cut.
He soon drifted back to the only thing he knew and the friction rose between him and Abraham again.
He started a new drug crew. But now things were different. The game had become much more dangerous in just a few years. Everybody carried guns and a rival dealer would kill you rather than fight.
Robert had a hard time keeping this from Denise who had a very keen and intuitive mind. The lies piled up and soon she was distant and cold to him. Denise thought he was seeing other girls along with his criminal activities. She broke up with Robert but did not start dating another man. That gave Robert some comfort.
Robert’s choices were limited. He could stay in the street game and fight. He’d either be killed or he’d end up on top, at least for a while. But the game was the game; it always led to the graveyard or the penitentiary.
Somehow the draft had missed Robert. He had always vowed that if it came, that he’d run to Canada or let them send him to jail. He did not want to fight in the White man’s war. But now the Army didn’t seem like such a bad thing. He looked into it, talked with recruiters and decided to enlist.
Abraham was proud of his son. He beamed and boasted to his friends that his son was going to be a Marine, the elite fighting corps. Abraham had been in the infantry in World War II but had not seen any combat. Vietnam was a whole other story. Black men fought with honor, just like their White comrades.
Denise was happy to know that her man was giving up the street life but was deeply worried about him going off to war. Robert would tell her with confidence that he was coming back alive and whole and she so desperately wanted to believe him. But before he went off to war, he had one more thing to do.
Denise and Robert got married in his father’s church on a warm summer day. The wedding was attended by both big clans and was probably the happiest day of Robert’s life. They sang, ate, danced and drank with reckless abandon.
Robert took Denise’s virginity on their wedding night and he felt a sense of calm. He was a man now and as such he had obligations. The war was his challenge, his way to make up for what he had been and a gateway to what he was yet to become.
Robert left for basic training with a sense of destiny. He was out of the city for only the second time in his life and it felt good. The pull of the street and hopelessness melted away like fragile memory.
Denise followed him to boot camp and lived just off base. She wanted to be with him for as long as possible and hoped to get pregnant before he went off to Vietnam.
Robert arrived at boot camp ready for the worst. He’d heard that the Marines had one objective: to make killers and weed out the weak.
This proved to be true. Robert was trained in hand-to-hand combat, demolition, and of course, marksmanship. He excelled at all of these things. It seemed he’d found his calling; he was a natural born killer.
The Marines ran them, cursed them, beat them and exercised them as if they wanted them all to die. Some days, he felt like he would die but his already fit body became even harder and soon he felt indestructible.
Robert became a favorite of the camp, looked up to by most of his peers and admired by many of the officers.
The notion that Negroes were cowards or incompetent soldiers had been widely held by the military establishment. Many felt that the oppression of Blacks would turn them against their White brothers in combat.
This theory was disproved in World War II and even more so in Korea. And now with Vietnam, America would finally see the whole truth, that Black patriotism was real and the tenets of American Democracy overrode its awful history. They would see that stars and stripes resided in the hearts of Negro men.
But Robert didn’t delude himself. It would take time. Things changed slowly in America. He hoped that one day his son would look at pictures of him in his uniform and see the beginning of a better life.
So Robert went off to war, leaving his doubt and fear behind him but also leaving loved ones, which he desperately hoped to see again.
And in Vietnam he had seen another face of Death. The face of tiny men in uniforms that looked like pajamas carrying swift, silent death, children wired with bombs and leaders who traded hills and roads for the lives of soldiers.
**********
Robert walked up to his family’s home. They could not see him as he approached the house from the rear. They were waiting for the Army car to pull up, he thought.
Robert smiled as he got an idea. He went to the house and up the back stairs. He found the door open and entered. His mother never locked that backdoor. It was some kind of silly southern superstition as he recalled.
Robert entered and soon he heard his family in the living room. He savored the moment as he charted each voice: Marcus’ now bass-laden baritone, his father’s voice, a booming Kentucky-dipped tone, his mother’s sing-songy alto and Denise’s sweet, tinny intonations. He smiled picturing them waiting on him with anticipation. He placed his duffel on the kitchen floor.
Robert checked his pockets. He felt the money the Army had given him in small bills. He was ready.
Slowly, he walked further into the kitchen. The smells of the food hit him like a punch to the gut. Since he’d gotten back, he had purposely starved himself, eating only bland food, saving himself for what he now saw and inhaled.
Fried chicken, short ribs, ham, macaroni and cheese in two big black pans, greens, candied yams, fried tomatoes and okra, cornbread, cakes, pies and a banana pudding. And on a counter Robert saw his favorite, his mama’s baked spaghetti, purposely over-cooked and thick with cheddar cheese.
Robert’s stomach made a happy noise so loud that he thought his family would hear it and discover his surprise. He tried to ignore the feast as he continued his stealthy approach.
“Damned Army never could do anything on time,” said Abraham in the living room.
“I’m telling you, we should call,” said Marcus. He was sitting on the arm of the sofa, something his mother would never allow under normal circumstances
“I’m getting worried,” said Theresa. “Maybe there was an accident. Oh Lord, that would just be my luck. Boy gets out of Vietnam alive and gets hurt on the Davison Freeway.”
Denise was silent as the other spoke. She just sat breathing in measured rhythms. She had dreamed of this moment and no thoughts of disaster would ruin it for her.
“Take more than an accident to stop me!” said Robert from behind them.
They all turned to see Robert standing near the kitchen in his uniform. He looked tall and noble just like they did in the movies. For a second no one said anything. They just looked at him as if making sure they were not all having some group hallucination.
Then there was a loud, joyous shout from Theresa and they all stampeded toward him. Robert’s already big smile was getting broader as they neared. Robert shoved his hands into his pockets, pulled out his Army pay and tossed it into the air.
“I’m home!” he shouted. He stomped the floor and threw open his arms.
Theresa got to him first and covered his face with kisses. He felt Marcus and Abraham grab pieces of his arms and shoulders and squeeze. They were all talking, saying beautiful things, the wonderful things he’d been dreaming of in the jungles of Vietnam.
But Robe
rt didn’t hear them all. His head was filled with light and sound as he took in the picture before him, savoring it and sliding it into his unforgettable memory as the money fell around them like confetti.
Denise clamped her self onto him, crying. Robert embraced her and thought about her beautiful face keeping him company while he was in hell. Later, he would be proud that his first thought of her was not of sex. It was of love.
Robert pulled Denise’s face up and they kissed. They lingered, getting into each other’s mouths such that Marcus laughed and Theresa blushed.
“Come on now,” said Abraham. “Plenty of time for that later.”
Robert and Denise kept up the little kisses as they separated. The heat between then was rising like bad thoughts and Theresa blushed again.
“You hungry?” asked Theresa.
“Hell yeah!” said Robert reluctantly breaking his connection to Denise.
Marcus was picking up the money Robert had tossed and smiling like a kid. “How much of this is mine?” he asked.
“Shoot, you can have it all,” said Robert.
“Come on and get a plate,” said Theresa. “The party don’t start until later.”
They all went into the kitchen and Robert made himself a huge plate of the food. His father brought him a cold Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer. They all watched him eat as he told stories of jungles, friends and death.
Marcus’ smile had faded somewhat and Robert had no idea why. He supposed the kid was just afraid. He’d be eligible for the draft soon and Marcus had never been a fighter.
When Robert was done eating, he groaned and loosened his pants. They all laughed, happy that he was happy.
Robert and Denise glanced at each other with obvious intent. Abraham made an excuse about needing something for the party. He stood up announcing his departure and asking for Theresa and Marcus to go with him.
The sound of the closing door was still in the air when Robert started ripping at Denise’s clothes. He was surprised to find that she was tugging at his belt and panting. He knew women liked it, but he’d never seen Denise like this.
“I just... wanna see it,” she said.
“Damn,” said Robert laughing.
Denise freed his penis and slipped him into her mouth, moaning something he didn’t understand. Robert grew light-headed from the contact and felt his knees wobble. Denise had always been hesitant about this particular activity but now she hungrily swallowed him, licking wetly and making sexy noises.
Robert pulled her head away because he could feel his orgasm rising inside of him. He tried to pull her to her feet but she pulled him down to the floor with her instead.
Denise took her blouse off and jammed Robert’s face to her chest. She gasped loudly as his mouth made contact with one brown nipple. She gasped again as his fingers found her panties and pulled them aside. The same fingers slipped inside her seconds later. Denise shuddered and threw her head back holding on to Robert’s shoulders.
“Damn!” Robert said again.
Denise stood and pulled off her panties as Robert dropped his pants and they made love on the kitchen floor. It didn’t last very long for Robert, this first time but it was like he had never had sex before.
As he felt his climax come, Robert envisioned his own life force filling him up, chasing out the anti-life that was war.
Robert rolled to his side, breaking the connection. He held Denise close and could feel her heat.
He closed his eyes and for a second, he thought that when he opened them again he’d and find himself on the moist ground in Vietnam, walking a step ahead of death.
But when he opened his eyes, he was still on his mother’s kitchen floor; sinfully half naked with the woman he loved.
6
THE STACKED SUPREMES
Sarah put on a stack of 45’s on the little record player. The phonograph’s small speaker soon blared out Diana Ross’ seductively pleading voice. Sarah turned and began to dance around the foot of the bed.
Thomas liked the new Negro music that was coming out of Detroit. It was different enough to intrigue and yet it had a familiarity to it. Some of the other Negro music was too much for him. It was like a language that he didn’t understand, but Motown was fun and made him feel like he was cool for liking it.
When Sarah danced it usually meant sex. Thomas hummed along with the tune but wasn’t completely in the mood. The Black man he’d beaten was still in his head, blocking the process.
He could still feel the strain as he leaned into the swing of the nightstick and the sick thud of the wood against the man’s thick muscles.
“I ain’t scared... not no mo’.”
Sarah pulled up the t-shirt she wore as she moved closer to him. She let it get up to just where he caught a glimpse of her panties underneath. Suddenly, Barney the Black man was gone from his head.
Sarah took off the t-shirt and flung it at him in the bed. It landed on his chest and he smiled. She gyrated in her bra and panties and Diana Ross wailed her love.
The bra and underwear were soon shed and Sarah straddled him. Thomas was still in his underwear but that did not deter her. She licked and bit and played with him and then he swelled beneath her.
Sarah pulled him out of his briefs and inserted him inside her. She uttered a high note that matched the ones coming from the record player. The warm flesh of her wrapped around Thomas tightly and he lifted his hips, raising her off the bed.
Sarah ground herself onto him and pumped in a steady rhythm. Soon, she was lost in her desire, calling out his name, uttering random curses and the name of God.
When it was done, Thomas broke their connection and rolled behind Sarah and embraced her. She was still making pleasant sounds as she clasped his hands over her flat belly.
“Is it my dancing?” she asked. “Is that why it’s so good?”
“It’s everything,” said Thomas. “Everything.”
“You can be so sweet.”
Thomas smiled but his brain immediately registered the qualifier “can be.” Sarah had many qualifiers when it came to him. It always reminded him of their basic ideological differences and the fact that she had taken it upon herself to change him. Always with her he was a work in progress.
“Can be?”
“Yes,” she said. “Sometimes you are and other times....”
“What?”
“You’re not.”
This was the place where he usually stopped talking. Sarah had a way of allowing you a way out of an argument, like a ramp on the freeway.
“Guess I’ll have to work harder,” he said.
Sarah laughed and he felt her stomach flex. “That’s even sweeter,” she said.
“Why do you like me?” he asked.
“Not that again,” said Sarah. “I keep telling you these things aren’t science.”
“You mean like opposites attract?”
“I don’t believe in that. Opposites fight like hell.”
“We fight like hell,” said Thomas with quiet authority.
Suddenly, she turned to face him. “What’s this about?” She asked with concern in her voice.
“Just talking,” he said. But truly he wanted to know.
She turned back away from him. “I like to think, Thomas that some people were meant to be together, you know like they say in the eastern religions; it’s kismet, fate.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said.
She adjusted herself and he did as well, holding her tighter to him. He thought of God moving lives together, sealing fate with His will. And then he saw the face of the big Negro again, filled with anger and eyes that looked into him.
“So, you coming with me to McGinty’s this week?” asked Thomas driving the man out of his head again.
“McGinty’s.” said Sarah grimly. “No thanks.”
Thomas was cool but he desperately wanted Sarah to come with him. The cops met regularly at a local bar and it was an important social event. Not only was it a time for bond
ing, but careers were advanced there as well. Once the Mayor and the Chief both came by unannounced.
All of the single men brought their girls to show them off. If he kept showing up without her, they’d know she had a problem with cops and as soon as that fact had been accepted, they’d think Thomas was weak.
“It would mean a lot to me,” he said.
Sarah said nothing and for a second Thomas felt that he would lose this one and have to show up without her and answer the “where’s that pretty little thing of yours?“ question all night.
“I know it is,” said Sarah finally.
“I mean, I know it’s not as important as the peace rallies and stuff we go to, but it’s all I got, you know.”
He hoped that she would find his comment sincere and not sarcastic. He was trying to let her know that he did a lot of things with her that he didn’t like but he did them anyway out of love.
“Okay,” said Sarah still facing away from him. “And don’t think you’re fooling me. You’re always a good sport about the peace movement. I know you only go to please me.”
She got up and headed for the bathroom. Thomas watched her walk away and savored the jiggle of her ass. She was a difficult woman, so unlike his mother who seemed to blow whichever way his father breathed.
Still Sarah made him feel great about himself and you couldn’t put a qualifier on that.
Another record dropped and Diana sang about love again. Most of the Motown songs were about love, he thought. He could hear Sarah singing along in the other room and he smiled.
His life was not perfect but this part of it had moments. He had become wedded to the idea that he would build a life with Sarah. Life without her was an unpleasant thought, one that left emptiness in its passing.
But this was a bad dream that need not live in happy hearts, he thought. He thought only of The Supremes and love as Sarah emerged from the bathroom and danced her way back to him.
Dark Town Redemption Page 6
