Country Boy 3

by Blake Karrington

  Lying next to the pool in a sundress was Van’s mother and the three nurses who’d taken care of her. From their seats, they all waved. Van smiled while waving back with both arms.

  “Van!!!” Someone yelled from below. It was Kiki, standing with Kesha, Gazelle, Elbony and Terri.

  “Those are my girls,” Van said excitedly, then turned back towards the house, to rush down the stairs to be with them.

  But before she could take another step, that loud furious sounding bark came again. It stopped her in her tracks.

  Turning to Quentel she spoke.

  “Baby that doesn’t sound like Skull, Jr.”

  “In fact,” she paused. “You may think that I’m crazy but...but baby, that bark sounded just like Bear.”

  Q simply smiled.

  “What are you smiling about Quentel? I’m serious, that sounded exactly like Bear.”

  Q could see the moisture forming in her eyes and reached out to her, taking both her hands into his. He noticed that she was trembling.

  “Baby, do you remember when the old lady stopped by here inquiring about Bear?”

  “Of course I remember, Quentel. You’re talking about Mrs. Russell with that gigantic dog. I think the dog’s name was Roxy right?”

  “Yea that’s the one.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well as you recall, she was interested in breeding Roxy with Bear because of both of their German bloodlines.”

  “I remember that too, but I also remember Mrs. Russell complaining about the breeding being a wasted effort because Roxy didn’t conceive.

  “Well, it seems as if that wasn’t the case after all. As a matter of fact, Roxy had conceived and later had a litter of eleven puppies, and true to her word, Mrs. Russell gave us the pick of the litter.”

  “Where is he? I would like...” her words were cut off by another familiar voice.

  “Ras-clot this thing is strung as eva’ mon and wicked mun!”

  “Give me the leash. Give me the leash, lil brother.”

  “Take the leash mun…take it now understand.”

  “Stop tha blood-clot cryin…you weak as eva’ mun weak as eva…”

  Van rushed back outside onto the balcony, just as baby Rasta and Inga walked from the sliding doors leading to their outdoor pool. Well, at least Inga was walking. Baby Rasta was being dragged. As Van looked on, she couldn’t believe the strong resemblance this puppy carried to her precious Bear.

  “Inga! Baby Rasta!” she yelled, and this time, Q didn’t attempt to stop her as she raced by him heading for the stairs to go and greet her friends.

  “Be careful!” he shouted at her.

  He turned back to watch the entire scene unfold from their balcony. As soon as Van’s tiny feet touched the ground outside, she made a dash for Inga and Baby Rasta. Inga was already racing out to meet her. Immediately, they embraced. Two soldierettes, crying, and showing a rarely seen softer side of two of the most dangerous females that ever lived.

  Several hours later, Q lounged around their large pool, watching as the girls battled the guys in a game of volleyball in the water. He laughed at Baby Rasta who sat at the water’s edge complaining to Inga and the rest of the girls about splashing water on the large spliff he was attempting to smoke.

  The puppy he’d given Van also stood at the pool’s edge. Quentel could see that he was intently watching Van’s every move. Q smiled, recognizing that was a sure sign of a dog recognizing his or her master.

  He looked over and smiled at Van’s mother, the nurses, and… the doctor!

  Who the hell had invited this nigga? Q thought

  He was about to get up and go over to him when another thought came to mind. Tee! Where the hell was she and most importantly, where the hell was his son? She’d promised that she would bring over. Even his daughter Keonne and her mother Tracy had come down from Raleigh for the event.

  Keonne had grown up so much and had just turned 13. Q had to promise her a shopping spree for the visit. She hated coming back to Rockingham. Raleigh was the capital of North Carolina and a much bigger city.

  Since they moved there for Tracy’s job, Kennone, wanted very little to do with what she called “the country life”. But she did love herself some “Mama Van” as she affectionately called her. The shopping spree was just something she played on her daddy. Who she knew would accept any reason to spoil his only daughter.

  Q looked down at his diamond encrusted Mark Jacob watch.

  “This woman trippin’,” he mumbled still thinking about Tee.

  Then, just as fast, fear gripped him as he began to think that something could be wrong. He grabbed his iPhone, found her number, and pressed send.

  __________

  Tee sat in the living room, wrestling with her son who was currently working her nerves!

  “You are not going son, so the first thing you need to do is lose the attitude. If not, mommy will be more than happy to adjust it for you, Gerard.”

  “But Mommy, Dad said that we would be spending the weekend with Mommy Van.”

  “Listen to me, mister,” Tee said grabbing her sons arm a little too firmly. “I am your only mother. I don’t want to ever hear you say that again!! Do you understand me?”

  “Yes ma’am. Mommy you’re hurting me.” And just like that Lil Gerard was crying his little eyes out.

  “Oh God, what am I doing?” Tee mumbled. “Come here baby, mommy is so sorry. I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard. Let mommy kiss it and make it feel better.”

  “How’s that?”

  “It feels better mommy.”

  “Now how about chili cheese fries for dinner?”

  “Yeyyyyyyyy!” Little Gerard screamed.

  “Okay, grab mommy’s purse and let’s go.”

  As her son ran for her purse, Tee’s mind turned to Q. As if on cue, her condo’s phone began to ring.

  “I’ll get it, Mommy,” Lil Gerard said.

  “Noooo,”Tee said in as firm a tone she could, without upsetting him again

  “We have to go, or else we won’t make it, baby.”

  Tee had seen the number pop up on the TV screen, she knew it was Q calling and it would take more than the promise of chili cheese fries, if Gerard heard his father’s voice. That, along with the fact that she didn’t want to discuss with Q her un-willingness to bring their son to Van's coming home party.

  __________

  Several hours later, everyone was still celebrating Van’s homecoming. Quentel had moved over into a large day room which had been constructed out of 90% expensive temperature glass.

  He sat alone, something he did whenever he needed time to think. Looking out over the gathering, it reminded him of something out of the movie Scarface.

  Thoughts of Tee invaded his mind. She still hadn’t shown up with their son, and was yet to answer or return his calls. It upset him, but Quentel knew that at this moment, the situation was too fragile to deal with. In a lot of ways, he couldn’t blame Tee for the way she’d been acting. How could he? For the past several months, he’d spent very little time with her.

  “Damn nigga, you better get a grip on this shit,” he mumbled to himself.

  He looked down at his iPhone again, with thoughts of dialing Tee’s number a fourth time, but decided against it. Maybe it was time to put some distance between them.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Q that Nigga”

  One month later, things had gotten pretty much back to normal for Van, who had fully recovered from her injuries. Q woke up that morning to a sound that had lately become all too familiar to him. It was the deep voice of an older white female preaching and instructing the word of God. Since Van’s near death experience and subsequent religious conviction, she had taken a real liking to Joyce Myers. Q didn't have a problem with what she was saying; it was the fact, that her morning show came on at 7am and Van had it blasting throughout the house. He tried to place the pillows over his head to drown out the sound, but it was like Mrs. Myers k
new what he was doing, because she would speak even louder. What also wasn’t helping was the events of the previous night replaying in his mind.

  Q had gotten up that Saturday morning and rode up to Charlotte with June, Dame and Tim to grab some new clothes to wear to the club that night. The strip club had the Mayweather vs Cotto fight and some new out of town dancers were coming up to perform. June and Tim had made it their mission to get Q out the house for at least one night.

  It seemed that since Van had come home, Q had become a homebody. His boys knew he definitely needed some unwinding time. Plus, Tim wanted to let him in on something that had been eating away at him. He was hoping that the ride to Charlotte would present the right moment to bring it up.

  Tim had been lending an ear to Terri and Tee's conversations as of late. He was constantly hearing the name Jamal being spoken by Tee. It had gotten to the point where he had to confront Terri about it.

  “Now you know that's my nigga's lady, and if she fucking around, I got to tell him,” Tim had told Terri.

  “His lady? How is that his lady when he got a wife and he doesn't answer Tee’s calls for days sometimes?”

  “Terri...”

  “Terri nothing. Besides her and Jamal are not even like that, they just friends.”

  “Just friends? Shit ain’t no nigga wanting to be just friends, he trying to fuck. And who is this Jamal nigga anyway? I know ain’t no muthafucka around here crazy enough to fuck with peeps.”

  It didn't take Terri long to break and she gave Tim the whole run down on Tee's new “friend”.

  Tim put in his Lyfe CD and scrolled to number 7. Lyfe Jennings’ signature voice began the question perfectly

  Hypothetically of course

  Are there some things better left unsaid?

  Or would you wanna know instead?

  Hypothetically of course,

  Are there some wars not worth fighting?

  Some tears not worth crying?

  “Yo I want to ask you niggas something!” Tim shouted as he turned the volume down.

  “What’s that, my nigga?” Dame asked

  “Hypothetically of course, would you want to know if your people started fucking around with another nigga?”

  Q sat up in his seat, the words of the song already had his mind going, and now Tim asking questions took his antennas all the way up.

  “Damn right, I would want to know, because if you can’t get loyalty from a bitch why do you need her around?” Q stated

  Tim shot back, “but bro, we all doing our thing, so wouldn’t it stand to reason they would also?”

  “Fuck No!!!” all three of the other men stated at once.

  June chimed in. “Bro, you know it's different.”

  Tim figured now he could make the conversation personal by asking June about his situation with Pandora and Kesha, then work his way to Tee and Q.

  “So June, if you found out Pandora or Kesha was fucking with someone, how would you feel?”

  “It depends on which one. If it's Kesha, that's one thing, because she's my bitch and although I'm trying to clean the bitch up to be something, I recognize she is what she is. But if wifey doing that shit that's another story and a nigga in too good of a mood to fuck it up with thinking about that type of shit right now!”

  “Agreed,” both Q and Dame said at the same time.

  The whole car started laughing.

  “Man, take that Lyfe shit out and put some Trap music on nigga, we ain’t in love in this muthafucka,” June added.

  Tim did as he was told; hating that he wasn't able to get to his point of the conversation. But Maybe June was right, maybe this wasn't the time.

  It took about thirty more minutes for the crew to arrive in Charlotte at Northlake Mall. They hit up all the normal shopping spots, Jimmy Jazz, DTLR, and Footlocker. All the men had shopping bags in their hands, looking like single mothers with five kids during tax season.

  “Bro come on, I wanted to stop by Diamond District and holla at Shawn so I can pick up a new piece for tonight.” Q yelled to Dame who was grabbing the number of some young sales rep at DTLR.

  All the men had been checking her out when they walked into the store; the young girl had all the makings of a thoroughbred. Her body was curvy, without an ounce of fat. The sheer clothing she wore gave them the ability to examine her closely. But once she stated that she was only 19, everyone backed off, except Dame.

  “Shit, if Obama can send her through basic training and then to Iraq, she can handle what I'm going to put her through.” Dame tossed out in his own defense.

  Q, June and Tim looked at each other and laughed as they was shook their heads.

  “Aight nigga, just wait til your daughter get that age,” June whispered as he walked by to look at some shoes on the wall.

  “B, that ain’t even funny,” Dame said, with a serious look on his face, but it wasn't enough to stop him from closing the deal.

  The men arrived back in Rockingham with just enough time to get to the house, get dressed and meet at the club. Van kissed Q on his way out the door and reminded him to be on his best behavior. Normally she would have accompanied him. Q wasn't sure if it was because she knew he needed a boy’s night out or the religious aspect of being in a strip club. He decided not to ask.

  “Bye Shawty.”

  “Bye love.”

  Q jumped in the new Jaguar XF he had purchased two weeks earlier. When he pressed the ignition button, the radio came on with Jill Scott’s voice singing about someone loves her

  You love me,

  especial-ly different.

  Every time you keep me on my feet, happily

  excited by your cologne,

  your hair, your smile, your intelligence.

  He hit the info button and the title of her cd appeared on the screen, confirming to Q that Van had been in his car. He scrolled down to TM103 and Young Jeezy appeared on the screen. The beat started pumping. “That's more like it,” he said.

  When he arrived at the club, it was already packed; the parking lot security waved him to a parking space up front. He got out and dapped people as he walked into the crowded building. Once inside, he could see the whole crew sitting upstairs in VIP and the dancers and bottles had already started flowing. He pulled up a chair and placed it in a perfect position to see the larger screen. A couple of the out of town strippers tried to dance for Q, but he declined. Instead, he just handed them a hundred dollar bill and said “thanks for coming.”

  Once the fight came on, the music went off and all eyes were on Money Mayweather and Miguel Cotto. It was a close fight, but everyone could see why Mayweather was considered the pound for pound best in the world.

  Q and the crew were cheering because all of them had placed bets on Mayweather.

  “Yo get that nigga Marcus Massey on the phone,” Q yelled to June over the loud cheers.

  “You know I'm calling him right now, my nigga. Shit he owe us both,” June answered with a laugh.

  Marcus was a friend of the crew and him and Q had done time together. He was a part of the family, but he lived up in Charlotte.

  Marcus answered on the second ring “What nigga, what?”

  “You know what bro, just have that bread for us.”

  “Yeah, just have that bread,” Q added.

  “Tell that nigga I got him and you, and you know I'm going to get it all back on the Pacman fight!”

  “Yeah, whatever nigga,” June added trying to hold back his laughter.

  “But on another note, tell bro I need to holla at him on something.”

  June handed his cell phone to Q as Marcus had requested.

  “Yo what it do bro, tell me something good.”

  “I wish had something good for you bro, but I don't think you going to like this.”

  Q's face turned serious and he placed his finger in his ear, so he could hear Marcus clearly.

  “Go ahead, bro, what's the business?”

  “Not for nothing my nigga, b
ut your baby momma is up here in the city tonight and —”

  “And what????”

  “And she with this basketball nigga and they looking a little too friendly, if you know what I mean!”

  “Word?” Q said in a weak tone

  “Word, bro, you want me to go down there and check the nigga or what?”