by Derrick Jaxn
"Nah, P., you're trippin'. What's-her-face never even crosses my mind," I lied.
"She doesn't have to cross it. She lives there."
I dropped his covers on the couch and looked at him. He was grinning devilishly. I was annoyed, but curious.
"Okay, cool. You got all the answers. So what do you suggest?"
Pete cracked his knuckles and propped his feet on my table. "I thought you'd never ask."
Chapter 19
Emergency
"My uncle, he's an entrepreneur. He has an online business that has loads of people's information. Street address. Email. You name it, it's there."
I asked, "What kind of online business?"
"A porn site. It's called tater tots are hot dot com. It's pretty awesome because the guys, I mean they're little people, so you'd think they'd have really small--"
"Come on, P.,"
"Right. Well, back to what I was saying. His website and hundreds of others took a bid on Myspace's database when it became a ghost town back in '09-ish. Since everyone kept their accounts as sort of a picture album archive of high school photos they never wanted to delete, it was the only way Myspace could keep the lights on. So they sold everyone's information."
"Isn't that illegal?"
"Not really. They changed the privacy policy in the Terms of Agreement page. But again, nobody was active on their accounts. And even when we are, we click that we've read the terms of agreements without reading them. So everyone who's ever had an account, their personal information is still on there."
"Okay, I get all that. But still, that was back then. Hypothetically speaking, if I was to try and find her again, I'd have no way of knowing where she's at right now."
"Yeah, hypothetically," he said, making quotation marks with his fingers. "Well, chances are, her home address and phone number hasn't changed. You could always call there and check in with her folks. They don't hate you, right?"
I thought back to Danielle's mom.
"Actually, yeah. They do."
"Some charmer you were."
"Look, now's not the time. I don't know, man. I feel like some kind of creep. Going through all that just to find her and do what? Profess my love?"
"Pretty much."
"It's corny, and you know it. On top of that, I'd probably get my ass locked up and a restraining order. Imagine that headline. SHAWN FLETCHER, RENOWNED WRITER AND POET HAS ONE MORE TALENT--STALKING."
Pete laughed, "I mean you can either waste time in jail or waste time out here going on dead-end dates and being miserable. Either way, you're wasting your time. And they always say, if you're going to pick a poison, make sure it's the poison you haven't tried before."
"Who's they?"
"Maya Angelou. Or maybe it was DMX. It was somebody really important, man, just trust me. I think you need to give it a shot. My uncle would gladly help. He owes me one from that one time I let him borrow my old tricycle from when I was a kid."
"Why did he need to borrow...you know what? Never mind. Do not answer that question."
I went back into the room and started my shower water. I looked in the closet, fetched Pete a few bath cloths. He knew where the guest room was from all the other nights Rashonda had left him to fend for himself for a place to sleep.
The thought continued to trouble me the rest of the night. I felt crazy. Like a pyscho, just for even considering going on a manhunt for this girl. For all I knew, she could be out of the country somewhere, a lesbian, anything.
I went back out into the living room one more time. "P.?" I said.
He looked up from his phone back at me, "Yeah bro?"
"Would you do the same for Rashonda? You know, going to find her and all?"
"In a heartbeat, bro. Not because I like, choose to, but I don't think the way I feel about her would give me any other choice. She's all I really want, and when it's real, it's worth it."
"That deep, huh? And it doesn't scare you that maybe you're not perfect enough? Like, if you went through all of that to get her back, you'd just mess it up again?"
He looked off for a second before responding. "The only way I could really, really screw up is by cheating. I mean, that part is the hardest for me, because it's kinda involuntary. You don't look at any chick and think to yourself, 'Time to push the horny button so I can fuck up my love life and break my girl's heart.' But, things happen. Then as you grow up, you learn that temporary gratification doesn't stack up to long-term satisfaction. Since I'm at that point, I have faith the rest will work out fine."
I raised my eyebrows in thoughtful agreement. He wasn't always full of such depth, but when he was, he really knew how to make something hit home for me. That's why I confided in him. No matter how different we were, we thought a lot alike, just from different perspectives.
"Rashonda, she wasn't always perfect," he continued. "She started off in a strip club. Not for long though, only until she got on her feet and began her hair styling business. But looking at her growth, man; it's amazing enough for me to want the same for myself, ya know? Like, she inspires me. I'd follow that woman to the edge of the earth and any other planet for that."
"I can dig it, brother," I replied.
"One question though."
"What's that?"
"So, like me and her. We're the same age, right? But if I see an old pic of her when she was a minor, and I think she's smokin' hot, does that make me a pedophile? I mean, technically I was her age at the time and I didn't get a chance to think she was sexy then, so it's not my fault. But for some reason, I feel so dirty."
"A'ight, P., see you in the morn," I said, walking off and shaking my head.
"Wanna see the pic?"
I ignored him and walked off before he asked any more questions about Rashonda. It was ruining the serious moment he'd just had.
Deep down and on the surface, he loved her. As much as he messed up over and over again, there was something about her that never would cut him off.
I guess, in a sense, that was me too. I had always been pretty terrible at letting go because it was too much like giving up. And I was never good at that either.
But this was different. I could keep ducking, dodging, and denying. Or I could do the craziest, most senseless thing I'd ever do in my life, and find this woman. Find Danielle, and make her mine again.
***
I reached for my alarm clock, trying to turn it off. As I came to, I realized it wasn't my alarm that was sounding, it was someone at the front door.
Only one person I knew would be knocking down my door when there was a perfectly good doorbell to use, and that was Rashonda. After banishing Pete, she'd eventually come hunting him down. It normally took a little time but she must've been pretty pissed and didn't feel like waiting for him to get a piece of her mind.
I walked into the living room and Pete was already up, grabbing the shoes he left by the couch the night before. "Code red! Code red!" he whispered.
That was what he said when he needed me to tell Rashonda he wasn't there. He only yelled Code Red when he hadn't had a chance to put together a good defense. Code Blue was when he wanted me to stall long enough for him to make an entrance with whatever excuse he had pre-cooked for his dog-house sentencing. But unfortunately this wasn't that time.
"Okay, go get in the closet," I whispered back. "She knows I'll lie for you so she's going to look around a little. Make sure you're in there good."
He ran to the back, in my room. I re-fluffed the couch pillows to help sell the disguise. She knocked again, louder. I swore my hinges were getting ready to come off.
I yelled out, "Who is it?!".
Expectedly she answered, "You know who it is. Open this damn door! I already know he in there!"
I opened it enough to stand in her way. "Oh hey, what's u, Shonda? Good morning rather. You here early."
"Shawn, I ain't got time for this. I need to talk to Peter. Where is he?"
"Not here. He left about an hour ago. Said he needed to g
et away."
"Peter Winthrop McNeil the third! Bring yo ass!!!" she yelled.
Wait, his middle name is Winthrop? And he's a third? I thought.
"You can call all you want, but he's not here. I told you, he took a cab."
She pursed her lips, "Mm-hmm. Yeah, okay. Yo car is outside and he can't afford no cab."
"I called him one, actually. He told them where to go, figured he was going back home to you."
She pushed through the door way, sniffing around trying to find him. I would've stopped her, but I didn't have my base set, and I needed my base with this woman. She checked the dining room, the bathroom. She even looked in the medicine cabinet. Then she walked over to my room, looked from a distance, but didn't go in. Seemed that was about as far as she felt comfortable.
"Rashonda, everything cool?"
She walked back into the living room where I was still standing by the door and sat on the couch.
"You know, Shawn, I don't get him sometimes. On one hand, I know he a good man who just done made some mistakes, but I also wonder if those mistakes made him. Some of the stuff I get upset about may seem petty, but after a while, it all adds up. Like is it really worth it or am I settling for less by being with him?"
"Don't think too much into it, Shonda. Y'all go through this, but so does everyone else."
"Not everyone. You and Dominique seemed just fine last night."
"Dominique and I aren't a couple."
"But still."
"And everyone is like that in the beginning. Only the good things shine through at first. Then all of the small print you missed, it starts becoming bigger and bolder. But it's normal."
She folded her arms and rolled her eyes, "Maybe I don't want normal...anymore."
"Then turn your normal into better than normal. Talk to him. I'm sure he feels the same."
"I'm done talking."
I felt bad. I didn't want to hear her make a definitive statement on what she was already saying without actually saying it. I just hoped he wouldn't blame my little pep talk for it.
"Okay, I guess. If that's how you feel."
I unlocked the door to let her out and she began grabbing her things.
I looked outside, wondering if my neighbors had been tuning into any of the soap opera without my knowing.
I turned around and Rashonda had stopped right up on me within reaching distance.
"Um, Rashonda, you all right? I mean, I'll tell Pete you came by if I talk to him again before you do."
"I told you already, I'm done talking," she said, her voice and expression much softer now.
"Okay then, fine. So, guess I'll see you around."
She looked uncomfortable for a moment, I thought she was going to break down and cry. But she just kept looking at me.
"Shawn, why can't Peter be more like you? At least you got something going for yourself. I can't do the whole 'nice personality is all I need' thing anymore. That mess is for teenagers."
"Everybody starts somewhere, Shonda. I really feel like you need to talk to Pet--"
"I guess I gotta spell it out for you, huh?"
"What?"
She moved in closer. "So you're going to sit there and act like you're not attracted to me?"
"Wait, what?"
"It's obvious. No need in lying about it now. I mean, I feel the same way and I'm right here." She whispered, "But what you do about that is completely up to you."
She moved in a step closer. I moved back, halfway out the door now.
My heartbeat dialed up to lightspeed. I fully expected Pete to come barging out of the room, to put an end to this. I wasn't sure if he could hear from all the way back in my room or if he was just waiting for a right time. Dammit, it was the right time.
"All right, Rashonda. It's time for you to go home, get some rest. You're upset right now. You're saying some things you don't mean and I don't want you to regret it later."
"I'm grown. I know exactly what I mean."
"Nah, Shonda. I think you need to go. For real."
She stepped closer to me and mirrored me when I tried to dodge her.
"I'm serious," I mumbled.
She trailed her finger tips down my torso before clenching my shirt with her other hand, "That makes two of us."
She's just as strong as she looks. I thought as her heavy ass finger pressed on my stomach.
She stood slightly on her tip-toes, pulling me into her. The smell of her cherry lip-gloss got stronger, our breaths mingled, and her eyes relaxed until they were barely open.
I yelled out, "PEEEEE!!!!"
He came running into the living room and saw Rashonda and me standing in the doorway, no space between us, and my shirt still in her hand.
"Wait, what's going on here?" Pete said.
"I promise, P. It wasn't me."
Without hesitation he looked at Rashonda, "How could you? I mean, I know you were upset, but this...this is dirty."
"So you were in there hiding. I knew it," she said. Her eye had scrunched up like Esther from Sanford & Son.
"So you mean, this is just some trick to get me out here?!" Pete shouted.
"Of course it is." she replied. "And it worked. Now, get yo stuff and get in the car. We got some things to discuss."
She turned around and headed back towards the door, but not before winking at me.
It was rather ambiguous, not a clear-cut flirt, possibly a thinly veiled "I win" signal. But either way, it crossed the line between war tactics and plain out manipulation.
She switched her hips as she walked out of the door, her nose so high in the air she would've drowned if it was raining. It all seemed to be a game to her.
But I had bigger fish to fry.
A few hours later, Pete came through on the data base containing Danielle's home phone number. Along with a few sponsored ads within the email from his uncle's website that no one deserved to see, but I digress.
Every time I picked up the phone to dial, my feet got so cold, even my hand shook. My pride told me I was a fool for literally tracking this woman down years after our relationship and all contact had ended, but the fact that I cared enough to even try was proof that that dust was far from settled.
But it didn't help that I was going to have to convince the other woman in her life that didn't want me in Danielle's. Her mother.
"Hello?" a woman answered. It definitely sounded like Danielle's mom, Miss Sarah, but I wasn't sure because it was fairly pleasant.
"Yes, I'm calling for Danielle. Is she in?"
"Um, Danielle doesn't live here. Who am I speaking with?" she asked.
"This is Shawn, an old friend of hers. Found this number from a while back and just thought I'd see how--"
"Oh. You." she said, her voice dark now. This was a much more familiar mien for her.
Miss Sarah was something like Aunt Viv from Fresh Prince. The original, dark-skinned Aunt Viv. Reserved, calculated, but had quite a mean streak.
She continued, "Young man, unless she's reached out to you personally and asked for you to find a way to get in touch, I suggest you let this be the last time you call anywhere looking for her."
"Miss Sarah, I didn't call to start any trouble. I just wanted--"
"Let me guess. Wanted to talk to her. See if maybe she's been as miserable without you as you are without her?"
"No, ma'am. I just wanted to see how she was doing. I think that's harmless enough for a phone call. Maybe I was wrong. Either way, this is your phone and I'll respect that because clearly I'm not welcomed."
"Not welcomed. Not original. Not genuine. Pick one," she puffed.
I was biting my tongue, but it was starting to hurt, so I let it go. "Miss Sarah, for you to be the so-called adult between the two of us, you're sure not acting like it."
She laughed, "Oh, is that right?"
I wanted to call her a bitch, because that's how I felt. But, there was another way to handle it, and besides, Momma raised me better than that.
&nbs
p; "Absolutely. You see, I know where this is coming from. It doesn't come from you hating me. It doesn't come from you wanting to protect your daughter. This all comes from your past relationships. You've always lashed out at the men who did you wrong but used me to do it. Yeah, she told me about them. All of them."
I could hear nothing but her breathing. A pause of at least four or five seconds went uninterrupted before I went on.
"Carl, the one who impregnated you with Danielle's little brother. He told you he was in the middle of a divorce and currently separated. You trusted him, kept the baby, and then raised him alone when Carl and his wife fixed things, changing their number and leaving no trace for you to follow.
"Anthony. He was the one who made you feel beautiful by the way he treated you, showed you off, and took you shopping for clothes just for the joy of seeing you try them on first. But when your mother passed and you gained weight from being depressed, that all changed. His interest went elsewhere to women half your age and weight.
"But first, there was Frank. The love of your life. He was the one man that never did you wrong. Never once disrespected you or ignored you. He was consistent and caring. He wanted children and couldn't wait to start a life with you. But you were so young. You didn't know how to handle someone loving you that way and ended up pushing him away, but not before you had your first child, Danielle. He left you with no viable reason to hate him, and because you couldn't give it to someone else, you harbored that blame and hatred. And now you're trying to give it to me even though I don't deserve it either."
I stopped myself. Didn't realize just how personal I was getting, but then thought about how it was necessary. How she not only deserved to feel whatever she felt from hearing it, but maybe needed to for her own good.
"I...I mean, it wasn't my fault. I didn't know," she muttered.
"I know you didn't. But it's time you stop taking that out on others."
