Another Man Will

by Daaimah S. Poole

  “I’m here to pay my storage bill.”

  “Last name and unit number?”

  “It should be under McKnight or Turner-McKnight; it’s unit 178.”

  “Okay, let me see. I’ll be right back.” She came back and said, “Miss, you sure that’s your unit number? Because that unit is showing as empty.”

  “Why would it be empty? That’s the number on my paperwork.”

  “Let me see it. Let me check this other system.” Her fingers tapped fast on the keyboard. She picked up the phone and made a call, told someone to check my unit. They radioed back that it was empty. “Hold on,” she told me. “Maybe they moved it.”

  Why would they move my belongings? I thought.

  “Okay. I know what’s going on,” the woman announced. “Every month we have an auction, and unfortunately, your stuff was auctioned yesterday.”

  “Whose stuff was sold yesterday? What do you mean? I called down here, and y’all told me that I had until the twenty-sixth.”

  “No, it was the twenty-fifth, ma’am. Maybe you didn’t hear him correctly.”

  “What do you mean? Get a goddamn manager! Are you kidding? This has to be a mistake.”

  “Miss, you must have misunderstood them.”

  “I can hear very well. I wrote it down. I need my belongings. Everything I ever owned was in the storage unit. My life . . . What I need you to do is find my stuff.”

  A manager came from the back, and he started explaining what had happened. He began to get loud with me and talk down to me, like I didn’t matter.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down,” he barked.

  “Calm down? You calm the fuck down! I’ll calm down when you find my goddamn belongings!”

  “If payment is not made in one month, we send out a notice. After sixty days we sell the contents for payment. Read your contract,” he grumbled.

  “I didn’t have to read a contract. I only owed you two months. I had thousands of dollars worth of clothes, furniture and everything else.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. There is nothing we can do.” I stood still and began to cry. The young girl behind the counter must have felt sorry for me because she offered me tissue to wipe my face.

  They’d sold my stuff. They’d sold all my children’s stuff. They’d sold all my pictures. Everything I had worked for was gone. My whole, entire life was gone. I couldn’t understand why or what I was doing wrong. I didn’t deserve this bad cloud that was following me. I wasn’t going to cry. I couldn’t cry. I was out of tears and numb. I drove home, exited my car, collected my mail, and tears started to flow. I opened my bills. There was a lot of junk mail, a cell phone company wanting me to switch to their company, and a postcard from my travel agent. It mentioned a survey about my recent trip to Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. They must have made a mistake. I’d never been to Brazil, especially not recently.

  I flipped the card over and saw the words Phillip McKnight and guest. Phillip McKnight and guest. Wow! I was sitting here worrying about how I was going to pay everything. And he was having the time of his life in fucking Brazil—with a guest. I had just had my every possession sold, and he was in Brazil. Okay. That was it. I didn’t care if I went to jail. I had had enough. I’d been struggling all these months and this bitch had been living the glamorous life. He was about to pay with his life for ruining mine. Just to confirm I wasn’t mistaken, I dialed the number on the postcard.

  “Hello. This is Mrs. Phillip McKnight. I wanted to answer questions about my trip. When did we take the trip again? We travel so much.” I recited a code on the postcard to the agent.

  “I show that you used our agency for a five-night stay in Brazil in October. How were the accommodations? If you could score them on a scale of one through five, with five being the highest.”

  “It was excellent, a five,” I answered.

  “Thank you, and would you recommend this property again?”

  “I sure would.” I hung up before she could ask me another question. I had somewhere to go. I was going to do something to that son of a bitch. Slashing his tires was not enough. Busting his windows . . . I might get cut myself. Set his motherfucking house on fire—that just might work.

  I entered Auto Zone, a woman on a mission. I was looking for one of those red containers with the black spout and handle to put gas into. A young man wearing a red shirt welcomed me into his store.

  “Welcome to Auto Zone. How can I help you today?”

  “Thank you. I need a gas container.”

  “Oh, you ran out of gas? Are you nearby? Do you need any help?”

  “I’m good. I have help. Thank you. I got this,” I said, smiling.

  He directed me to where I could find them. I had a choice between a small one and a big one. I thought about it for a moment. I needed a big container. I purchased one.

  With my gas container in hand, I drove to the gas station and filled it up. I was now going to light Phil’s ass up. At least when I violated my stay-away order, it would be well worth it. I had it all planned. I’d pull up in front of his door, wait for him to get out of the truck he probably bought with my money. Then I’d walk up behind him, open the gas can, tap him on his shoulder, wait for him to turn around, and then throw the gas in his face. While he was bent over, screaming for mercy, I’d strike a match and let him burn.

  Only it didn’t work out that way. Phil came home like he was supposed to, but the sneaking-up-on-him part didn’t happen. He must have felt my presence, because he turned around, saw me, and ran in the house. I chased him and banged on the door and screamed, “You want to play with my damn life! I can’t feed my kids because of your stupid ass. I’m going to make you pay, bitch. Come back out here, bitch. You went the fuck to Brazil with my money. Really, bitch? You are going to pay you son of a stank dirty bar-stool-sitting bitch. And where the fuck your dirty dick ass dad at? Tell him to come out here so I can light his ass up, too.” I demanded for Phil to come out and face me, but he refused.

  He wouldn’t come back out but kept screaming from the second-floor window, “Yvette! I’m going to call the police.”

  “Fuck the police when they get here! I’m going to tell them what you did to me, and they probably are going to say, ‘Okay. Go ahead. Burn his ass, miss. He deserves it.’ Bring your ass out here so I can light your ass up!” I kicked the door a few times, because he wouldn’t come out. I was ready to go in. I walked back to the car to get a match. In a few moments I wouldn’t have to worry about Phillip McKnight anymore. I had the gas can, but I couldn’t find any matches. Fuck! I thought. I forgot to bring matches. I saw a man walking down the street.

  “Excuse me. Do you have a lighter?” I called.

  “Naw, sorry. I don’t smoke.”

  “Okay.” Shit, I thought. I would just have to go to the gas station to get a matchbook.

  On my way to the gas station a few blocks away from his house my phone was ringing back to back. Why was he calling me now? Why did he want to talk now? He hadn’t had anything to say all these months. I answered so I could tell him that he was going to get it once I got a lighter or a match. It was Dana, not him, this time.

  “Yvette, what are you doing? Daddy just called me and said that you are at Phil’s house, screaming you’re going to set him on fire with a gas container. The police are on their way. If they catch you there with gasoline, you are going to jail forever. I don’t know what’s going on, Vette. But listen, whatever you are about to do, it is not worth it.”

  “It is worth it. I don’t care about going to jail. Everything I ever owned is gone. My life is gone. This son of a nasty bitch has fucked with me for all these months, and now it is time for him to pay. He is buying trucks, going on vacations, and I’m sitting here figuring out how my kids are going to eat. That money belongs to me. So now it is time for me to get even,” I cried.

  “You’re not getting even. I’m on my way to you. Please, where do you want to meet, Yvette? I’ll meet you anywh
ere you want, just get out of there. He probably told them what kind of car you driving and if they pull you over you are going to jail.”

  “Dana, thank you but I don’t care. I have to get him. I have to get his ass. He has to pay, Dana, he has to pay. I got to make him pay.”

  “You can’t fight crazy, Vette. He is crazy, and you know that. You’re fighting him, but you are getting beat up. The only thing you can do is walk away; he is going to get his. What goes around always comes back. Didn’t Daddy use to always say that to us. You remember that, Vette?”

  “Yeah I remember, but, Dana, my life is fucked up. He took everything from me. I have nothing.”

  “Let him have it. You can get everything back.”

  “No, I can’t. I have to go.”

  “If you do anything to him, he wins.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Yvette, come on, you’re talking crazy. You are not getting your money back. Get the hell over it. He is not going to give you your money, so you have to make another way. You’ve been stuck sitting around the last couple of months, saying how he wronged you. You need to take that same energy and hate for him and put it into you and fixing your life. You’re my big sister. I looked up to you. I always wanted to be like you. You were the one to show us, and now you are allowing him to pull you down. He won already, and he will have the last laugh when you are crying behind bars for the rest of your life. He will be taking more trips, and your kids will be out here without a mother.”

  I wouldn’t respond, but Dana kept talking. “Yvette, I never thought I would see you lay down and die and let him take everything from you. He already got your house, your money, your memories, and now you about to give him your life. You set his house on fire, you’re going to jail. Think about Mercedes. Think about Brandon. Who is going to take care of them? Huh? Get rid of that gasoline, and go home.”

  I was hearing her, but I wasn’t. I had to do something to him and now. I didn’t need my baby sister telling me what to do.

  “Dana, I have all these bills. I’m about to get kicked out of my apartment. He ruined my life. My life is over anyway! How do I come back from all of this?”

  “No, it is not. It’s never over. I’ll write you a check; I have money. I’ll pay your rent and bills. You can pay me back later when you get on your feet. I will help you, but please don’t throw your life away.”

  “I’m tired, Dana. No one understands how tired I am.”

  “I know you’re tired, but I promise I’ll pay everything. Just get out of there now, before the cops show up.”

  Just her telling me she was going to help me take care of bills was enough to bring me to my senses. Nothing was going to get shut off. Thank you, Lord. I had to get strong again and turn things around. Instead of getting the matches, I took the gas container and left it near a gas pump, got back in the car, and began praying. God please help me. Please Lord have mercy on me. I need help, please forgive me for anything and everything I ever did. Please put my life back together. I didn’t know what else to do or say, because I needed help. I really wanted to hurt Phil, but instead I went home.

  CHAPTER 38

  Crystal

  “This truck takes eighty dollars to fill up, Rell?” I said as I grimaced at the number nine pump.

  “Yeah, like eighty to eighty-five. Just fill it up and add it to whatever I already owe you. How much do I owe you now?”

  “Rell, I don’t know. I’m not keeping track.”

  That was a lie. I wanted to be a good wife, but I was starting to resent having to pay for everything for us. I got out of the car and paid for the gas, and Rell pumped the eighty dollars into the tank. We were coming back from an evening that was supposed to be some old-fashioned alone time. My mom was watching the kids, and I thought this was what we needed, because lately Rell had been aggravating me. We’d needed a second car, but now it didn’t seem like that was the smartest thing for us to have done. Now I was thinking, Why did I take on an extra car note and insurance when my car was fine? Rell needed a car, not me.

  When we first met, I saw all this energy and drive with Rell, but now that I was married to him, I thought I had probably made a mistake. I didn’t want to tell anyone, and even during Thanksgiving I was pretending to be so happy. Paying for everything was getting real old fast. If he was working, it would make my life a lot easier. And please let’s not talk about Shareef ’s stupid-ass job. They are not calling Rell. He’s been waiting for how many damn months? He could have found nine other jobs instead of counting on that stupid position to come through. I kept saying to Rell, “Look for another job, we have bills.” But his answer to me was to be a little more patient. Patience is bullshit. Patience will have my lights off. The way these bills were stacking up, I might have to ask for some extra hours. I got back in the car, and Rell was just staring straight ahead, appearing to be troubled.

  “Listen, Crystal, babe, if this job don’t call me by next week, I was thinking about reenlisting.” Was he reading my mind? Did he hear all the shit I was talking about him in my head?

  “What? Rell, what am I going to do if you are not here?”

  “I don’t know, but we won’t be struggling. I would go back over there and make a lot of money. I blew the other money, but this time I’ll send it all to you. I know dudes that paid off their kids’ college tuition and almost their house by keeping going back. It is not that bad. It will be only for a year.”

  “Rell, if you reenlisted, I would not be happy at all. I don’t think I can do it.”

  “I don’t know, Crystal. I just might have to. If this job doesn’t call me back, that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Why don’t you start looking somewhere else and say, ‘Forget that job’? Put some other applications in other places. There are other places to work.”

  “Yeah, but they don’t pay any money.”

  I wished I had someone to talk to. This was when I wished I had some good girlfriends. I couldn’t mention this to my mom or my sisters. There was no way I would be home writing letters, waiting, watching the news, hanging yellow ribbons, walking around praying that he was okay. While he was in another country, fighting a war, I would be here fighting alone. What if he got caught in friendly fire or one of the terrorists threw a bomb out of a moving car at him? Oh, I praised all the people that fought for us, and their family members, but I didn’t want to be one of them.

  That evening in bed I turned my back to Rell. I was not in the mood to have any physical contact with him. I didn’t want to speak or even know him right then.

  “Don’t do that to me, Crystal. I want you. Boo love, what’s wrong?”

  “Rell, you can’t even think about leaving me and going back in the service. What if something happens to you? And I need you here.”

  “But we need money, and nothing is going to happen to me. Earlier today I didn’t feel like a man when you had to put gas in the car. That’s my responsibility. I’m a man, and I have to do whatever I have to do.”

  “Then get two jobs here. Wouldn’t that be easier, Rell, than going to another country at war?” Rell made me so angry and was becoming an idiot. I couldn’t take any more. I took my blanket and went to sleep in the kids’ room.

  CHAPTER 39

  Yvette

  I was very upset about my things being auctioned off, but they were gone. What made me feel better was that my mom had copies of a lot of the pictures I’d lost and I realized that everything that was in storage could be replaced. I could buy myself and Brandon and Mercedes more clothes, bikes, televisions, and furniture. It was just stuff. I had to think of it like that; otherwise I would go mad. Dana writing me a check to cover my bills gave me a sense of peace.

  Brandon had been fine. Mercedes was still adjusting to her school. She had made a few friends and was beginning to like it. I’d been applying to jobs every day and praying someone called me. I was happy Doug had said he was still taking the kids for Christmas. I hoped I was working then s
o that we could have a good holiday and I could have something for them when they came back from Florida. I made a bunch of follow-up calls to make sure the people that had my résumé knew I was still looking, and it worked, because when I came home there was a message for me.

  “Hi. This is Tina from Service Air. You sent in your résumé. I know you were looking for more of a clerical position, but I know we spoke and you said that if I had any openings to give you a call. So I do have an opening. It is only a seasonal position, but you would start immediately. Please give me a call if you’re interested. Thank you, and have a great day.”

  I called her back, and she said the position was a driver’s helper, and if I was interested, I could start on Monday. It was only from December to March, but I didn’t care. I would have a check.

  On my first day as a driver’s helper, I was introduced to the driver I was assisting. His name was Kirk. He was short and stocky and wasn’t that friendly. I didn’t really like the uniform. It was straight up and down brown work pants, and not flattering at all. However, I tried to make myself look cute by doing my hair and makeup.

  A typical day at Service Air began at 7:30 a.m. We came in, and first, we did our stretch and flex to make sure our bodies and muscles were ready for the day. And then we scanned and loaded. Most of the men that had women helpers loaded and the women scanned, but not Kirk. He believed in equal rights. He had me breaking my back loading, while his lazy self scanned.

  Once we were in the truck, we had about forty packages that had to be delivered on time between 9:00 a.m. and 10:30 a.m. In order to be timely, I would jump off the truck, knock twice, and if the customer didn’t answer right away, they got a yellow slip. Some of the people on our route complained, but they needed to answer their doors quicker if their packages were that important to them.

  CHAPTER 40

  Crystal

  Rell got the J-O-B! He was finally an employee of Seisman’s Bread. I was shocked but so happy. I thought they weren’t ever going to call him at that damn job and that he was waiting in vain. But I’m glad I was so wrong. It was his first day and he was so excited when he left out for work. He called me on his break and I quizzed him about his day.