by Derrick Jaxn
For the first time, it dawned on me how it was taking all of this thought to try and fix a problem I caused by not thinking at all.
****
"Simple. Lie to her."
"What?"
"Life is too short, bruh. You need to lie."
I looked at Lamarcus like he'd lost his damned mind. I should've known better than to let him into my personal business, but it came out anyway while I was proofreading his fast food job applications. He was transitioning from the street life, and in return for helping him, I charged him a listening ear. Felt like it wasn't too much to ask and besides, my friend-tank was on E. Couldn't fill up at the moment, but this five dollars might hold me till the next stop.
"Did you hear anything I just said? I got in this mess by lying. How in the hell you figure that's a solution?"
"Look, mane, they say the truth will set you free. But if that truth comes after you been lying a long time, it's gon' get you fucked up.
"Watch your mouth."
"My bad. Messed up. Point is, it's time for you to lie. Again."
"Okay, lie," I said, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Appalled at the initial thought but still intrigued at his audacity to believe the words coming out of his own mouth, I wanted to know more. "I'm listening."
He sipped on one of the protein shakes I'd made for us as he interlocked his fingers and looked at me like he was my magistrate. Kid had seen one too many courtrooms in his day. "Okay, maybe you don't have to exactly lie. That's such a dirty word. How about...deceive? Trick. Conspire." As if any of those were better. "You gotta be creative. You said ol' boy and her dating now, right? And you need to talk to her, right? But she won't talk to you? Well, I bet you money she'll talk to him."
"So you telling me to ask him to negotiate for me? You're trippin', 'Marcus."
"Nah. I'm sayin' you need to conspire...to be him, Use ya head, Shawn. Write her a note, but don't tell her it's from you. You know what I'm sayin'? What's that word for it, like it's ano-mano--"
"Anonymous."
"Yeah, anonymous. Write the note, act like it's from him and then when she goes to talk to him, you show up."
"What happens when she sees me?"
"You think she still loves you?"
"Of course she does."
"She'll stay. Long as you 'on't say no stupid shit, she'll stay."
"Watch ya mouth," I threw out. I was trying to get him to stop cursing so he could at least get through his job interview without doing it.
He cleared his throat, "My bad. Stupid things. But put it like this; just say you got two cocaine bricks on you, all white and sealed tight, but you can't do nun wit' em till you go to the plug and check in first." He was good for a drug dealing analogy to make his points, but since it was all he knew, I tolerated it. "Now you know why you going to see the plug, right? Because if you don't, the plug gon' feel disrespected and kill you. Danielle, she's the plug and if you don't find a way to talk to her, that's gon' kill you and y'all relationship as far as she concerned.
"But since you have two all-white bricks, or in your case, a heart of gold and intentions on making thangs right, it's on you to find a way to go see her. Don't matter what you do to see her. Once she see dem all-white bricks, she gon' be willing to listen. That don't mean she gon' let you sell it on her block, but it's 'bout the only chance you got to make it out of that alive. Either that, or get up out the country and make sure she never see you again. That's on you."
I didn't want to admit it, but the young brother was starting to make sense. And the last time he came up with a plan, it saved both our asses from what would've been nasty legal troubles. So maybe he was on to something.
So I said, "My bricks. If she sees the bricks, but tells me to go sell my bricks on somebody else's block because she's done with my sorry ass bricks, then what?"
"It's my guess that if you honestly could see yo-self sellin' on somebody else's block, you would've been there by now getting money, climbing up the ranks to be that new kingpin. But seein' as how you not, look to me like you need to either try to convince her to let you back in her hood or get out the dope game altogether, ya dig?"
He basically was telling me to go back, try again, and if it didn't work then quit. It was all eloquently laid out in street logic.
He continued, "Or you can sit there and let these other hustlas run her block while you over here contemplatin' and what-not."
"All right, all right," I interrupted the thoughts while he calmly kept sipping on his drink. "I'll try it. If this backfires, you're going right back to waiting on the bus. Deal?"
"Deal. Just know, the clock is ticking. Don't wait too long to do what you feel, might not get another chance. But anyway, you gotta belt I can borrow?"
"Yeah, I do. Since when you started wearing belts?" I asked, getting up from the table.
"Since my wardrobe came wit' a death sentence."
I stopped walking and turned around. He had a look of uneasiness in his eyes.
"What you mean by that, Lamarcus?"
His heart seemed heavy, and his voice, wounded. "Exactly what I said. My teacher said if I don't stop looking I'mma get killed. Said ain't no protection for dudes like me. Law only apply to us when it's to lock us up or justify killin' us."
"It's not what you look like that's the problem," I said. "It's what people see when they look at you. A belt can't fix that."
"Yeah, you say that as yo shirt is neatly tucked in."
"My shirt is tucked in because I'm comfortable this way and I think sagging is tacky, but it's not a measure of character. If the other boys at your school can wear gothic trench coats, black lipstick, and spiked Mohawks, then what you wear shouldn't be a problem so long as you're not exposing private parts."
"Nah, I ain't doin' none of that. But I ain't stupid. We come out the womb violating America's dress code. Ain't never seen no flicks of Martin Luther King with his shirt untucked and they capped him so it probably won't even make no difference." he said, shaking his head.
I went into my room to fetch a spare belt and gave it to him, anyway. That conversation was going to be a bit too much to unpack in one sitting.
After dropping him off at school, I got back home and went to draw up the letter he'd suggested. I started off a few times, but didn't get very far.
Dear, Danielle,
Hey what's good,
Yo Danielle,
To: Danielle, From: Me
My luck, I didn't know anything about her boyfriend other than him being Lewis' friend to effectively impersonate him. Not sure if I wanted to impersonate him at all.
So I didn't. I hadn't written her any letters outside of my short stories and poetry because we'd communicated otherwise, so hopefully it wouldn't be too obvious. I just needed to keep it short and simple; the rest would be on her.
Danielle,
Sorry about the little misunderstanding in the cafeteria the other day. Just got caught up in the moment and didn't like the idea of somebody disrespecting you so I lost my temper. Regardless, that ain't how your man should be conducting himself so let me make that up to you. Meet me at the same location you find this letter. Tonight at 8 o'clock. I got something special for you.
Sincerely
-Me.
P.S. Don't bring it up until then because I'll act like I don't know what you're talking about and cancel the surprise altogether. ;)
Inconspicuous enough. And technically, I didn't even lie.
I drove around campus looking for her car. It wasn't hard to spot, no one else on campus had anything even close. Electric blue 2000 Subaru that her uncle had passed down to her when she graduated high school. It looked like one of those cars on Fast & Furious with the work under the hood to match.
I found it, sitting in one of the business building parking lots close to the rear. Her parking spots didn't change much because she always tried to get far away from other cars so nobody else could scratch hers.
I went an
d slipped the note under her windshield wiper as quickly as I could then got back into my car. I felt like a mad man. Like a damned stalker. But like Lamarcus said, one more drop, and I was going to be out of the game for good. One way or the other.
After leaving, I thought back to myself about what'd happen if someone else got the note. What if she got it and still mentioned it to her boyfriend? Would he tell her it wasn't from him and then they both narrow it down to me?
I kept driving, went home, and flopped on the bed. Pulled out my blue Superman watch from the drawer, put in a new battery, and watched the minutes go by. This was going to be one hell of a day.
****
I strolled over about an hour early. Her car was gone. She had to have gotten it.
I thought back to what Momma always told me, "If you're going to pray, then don't worry. If you're going to worry, then don't pray."
I'd been praying more lately. Not for things, but just for peace, a place to go when I didn't have it all in control. I'd prayed many times over my relationship with Danielle, and if there was ever a time that things weren't in my control, it was then. I squeezed my eyes, tried to block thoughts of her bringing my letter to me as a bag of confetti, burning it to a crisp with her friends watching and recording for social media laughs, or worse, her just not showing up at all.
Seven-fifty five rolled around. I was sitting outside in another parking lot across from the location I'd told her to meet me at.
I was losing my fight to not worry and already prepping myself to handle the worst. Hoped that seeing it mentally would help lessen the sting when it actually happened. The lights that illuminated the parking lot rained down memories of Danielle and me the last time we met in a parking lot, when we were on the very cusp of us again, dancing like no one else existed and embracing each other. Letting go of all the strength we'd used to stay away from one another. Being vulnerable. Letting love live again. What a feeling.
I reached to roll my windows down for a little air and heard her muffler coming up the road behind me. I ducked in the car so I wasn't visible.
Once I heard her engine go off, I popped back up and looked. She didn't get out at first. I was too far away to see if she'd come alone or had someone with her so I gave her a few minutes, hoping she'd get out of the car and show her face.
She did. Letter in hand, and resting against the hood.
She was beautiful, even from a distance. Her ponytail was pulled back into a poof once again, the kind you spray water on to help get the strands on the side to lay down a little better. Her tank top and blue jean pants told me she had been busy all day, but made time to see what the surprise was about.
I got out of the car and walked from where I was. My heart pounding. I was digging deep for the confidence a man was supposed to have under any circumstance. Deep breaths. Controlled exhales.
Just wasn't working this time.
She looked my way last minute, her expression unchanged when she saw me.
"What's up, Danielle?"
"So it was you, huh?" she said, folding her arms.
I looked down at the ground then back at her, "Yeah. Sorry to disappoint."
"Figured. Seemed like your speed. Just saying you wanted to talk would've been too normal. Had to be a surprise."
We both let off a slight chuckle, easing the tension.
"Would you have come?"
She looked away for a moment, "I don't know. Guess it depends. Wasn't quite sure I was going to come tonight. Was running some errands and figured why not?" she said
That casual. Like it was no big deal. But I saw through her mask. She never did anything unless it mattered.
"Cool, well, I'm glad you did. Just kinda seems weird, ya know?"
"What seems weird?"
"This," I said, motioning to the space between us. "Me. You. We're not this. We may not be what we were, but I know for a fact we're not this. Not after everything we've been through. And I'm tired of pretending I'm something I'm not."
"Well, maybe you're not who you thought you were."
That stung. "Okay, I guess I walked into that one."
"I'm not tryna kick you while you're down, Shawn. I don't even like that you're down. Maybe you and I were supposed to be something else and everything that happened was just another step closer to that."
"I don't want to be closer to that; I want to be closer to you, Danielle."
"Shawn, please," she said, rolling her eyes. Pain was seeping through her body language. Pain she had already buried that I was exhuming.
"I'm serious. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." She looked unconvinced. "Look at me and tell me you don't love me."
She hesitated, then parted her lips to speak before exhaling as if the words wouldn't come out.
I responded, "Exactly."
"But you know what they say. Love will get you killed." She smiled.
"We all gotta die sometime," I threw back.
"You been watching them movies again? I feel like that's some Scarface type of stuff you just pulled on me."
"But it was smooth, though, wasn't it?"
She laughed again, her body language less crude, "Yeah, whatever. I see you ain't changed too much." She looked down at my socks.
Both of them were white tube socks but from different companies so the ribs were different. It was one of her pet peeves when we lived together so she used to put them in separate drawers to try and break me of the habit.
"Well, one thing that hasn't changed is the fact that I miss you."
"Shawn--" she said, looking at me disappointedly that I was still steering the conversation that route.
"Look, being dishonest is where I went wrong before. I won't make that same mistake now. Let me be honest with you. I'm--"
"Shawn--"
"Please, let me finish. Please?" I asked.
She pursed her lips in silence, allowing me to continue.
"I'm not here to waste your time. I've done enough of that. I just want to put this in proper perspective.
"We're still young. We started this thing when we were really young, only teenagers. We were in love but neither of us knew what we were doing. We just knew we needed to make it work and to make anything work, you have to learn how it works. Some of the things we learned together hurt, but we learned them. Just like those couples who last together for decades and get to see their grandkids have kids. That's what they did to make it that far. They learned and used what they learned to make it work."
She looked at me, tears forming in her eyes, inviting my own. The part of her that believed in me before, it was alive. It was still believing in me.
"Your trust, I broke it," I continued, "and that was wrong of me. But if there's even an ounce left, I promise and will prove to you that I can take that ounce, protect, and build it again. Stronger than it was before. I was careless, but I was never out to do you wrong. Every year we've invested into each other has to count for something. I'm not expecting for this to be easy, just tell me it's possible. Just tell me that enough of you is willing to fight for us and I will fight with you."
"Shawn," she mumbled.
"I'll fight for our family. I just got a good job so I'll be able to provide for us and our future children and we can get--"
"Shawn," she said, louder this time. Her tears had flown down her deep cinnamon brown cheeks dropping onto her tank. "This is probably the last conversation we'll ever have."
I thought my ears had deceived me. "Say what?"
"I've been dating someone else, and quite frankly, he treats me like a queen. I'm finally happy and I think I deserve that." she forced out, looking at the ground with uncertainty.
"Finally happy? Um...wow."
"I came here to tell you that, I just got side tracked, but it's best I go ahead and stop you while you're ahead and let you know. I didn't want to...." her words drowned out in the noise of hearing my heart fall to its knees. It went to the twelfth round, and it lost by a knockout.
I sto
od there, possibly looking like I was listening. I'm not sure.
Her previous statement was still sinking in. Or rather, melting through. It burned like the fire it was meant to be, and I couldn't do anything but stay there and take it.
Whatever she was saying to try and provide some explanation had come to a pause, and that's when I said, "I understand. That's cool. I'm happy for you."
And then I watched my baby, my dream girl, walk away and take my dreams with her.
Chapter 16
To Be My Sunshine After the Rain
I skipped breakfast the next morning and went to the weight room instead. Had a final exam to take later on that day, but if I didn't purge the energy I was using to over-think, I likely wouldn't even be able to finish.
The clinging and ringing all came from the weights at first, then next it was my throbbing headache. Lifting heavy on an empty stomach is never a good idea, but that 400 pounds I was pushing off my chest felt like a feather compared to the weight that was really on it. I just didn't want to dwell on what happened the night before with Danielle. Even though a piece of me expected the outcome, the rest of me still needed to find a way to get my mind off of it.
I texted Lamarcus. Figured I'd spare him the results of my attempt at implementing his theory and instead just inquired about how his application submittals had been going. Hopefully put some good news back in my life.
I'd given him all the tools to win. Taught him how to get through a paragraph without cursing, gave him a belt, and I even gave him a shirt a few X's smaller than the 4XLs he'd been wearing. So long as he tucked it in, smiled, and didn't go in there making drug analogies to explain his availability to work, he should've been fine.
Then I realized, it was school hours; probably wasn't going to text back anytime soon. Might as well just go by the cafe, grab an early lunch, and see if Auntie could tell me how it'd been going.
Just my luck, she wasn't there. But Chantel was.
