Savage

by Tiana Laveen

  “You know what? The old me would’ve relished this moment, seeing you down and out like this, Deanna. I would’ve been sitting high and looking down. I would’ve figured karma caught up with you, too. You know who I am. Don’t play stupid. I came out here to let you know how I felt, and to tell you that I forgive you and wish you nothing but the best. I wanted to have a conversation with you to see what’s up in your life—not to gloat, but to see if I could help. From the looks of things though, you have the same mentality as a seventeen-year-old. You never grew up. You made my life a living hell in high school.”

  “Lady, I don’t know what tha fuck you’re talkin’ about. You must be crazy. My ride’ll be here in a second so please turn yo’ siddity self around and leave. Shit, you make me sorry I accepted the money.” She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, are we still playing that game, Deanna? You still want to pretend like you don’t remember me? Let me help you out. Jog your memory, if you will.” Zaire stepped a bit closer, her hand on her hip, her blood boiling. “You tormented and tortured me about my mother. You see, you already didn’t like me. You’d accused me of thinking I was better than you and your friends, which was an absolute lie. All I wanted to do was go to school, have a good time but also get my work finished. You wouldn’t let that happen! I allowed you to make me feel like shit because I was young and didn’t know how to deal with it. I allowed you to step on me!

  “My mother had come up to the school and caused a scene more than once because she had an undiagnosed mental illness. One time, unfortunately, you and your little crew witnessed it. Rather than show some compassion or just keeping your trap shut, you and your band of mean girls called me all sorts of names, said my mother was, and I quote, ‘fucked in the head’, and I was probably just as stupid as her. You made fun of the way I dressed because I liked to wear more conservative clothing than most of our peers. You called me a nerd just because I did extra credit, and you also said I must’ve been the mailman’s baby because I wasn’t as pretty as my sister, Star, who you were also jealous of! My sister was popular, while I was not. You said it to hurt me.”

  “Look, nut, I don’t remember none of that shit you talkin’ ’bout,” Deanna hissed, waving her cigarette about. “And if it did happen, so what? Kids do dumb shit. That was a long time ago. We grown now. You need to move on… like for real.” She sized her up, her expression one of disdain.

  “I have moved on, Deanna. That’s the beauty of this.” Zaire shifted her body weight from one foot to the other. “I didn’t pay for your groceries because I wanted to feel better than you. I did it for my own peace of mind, to put closure to this and face how you made me feel—how I allowed you to make me feel—and try and make amends! I came out here with a clean heart,” she said. “I am not better than you because of my job, my clothes, my home, my man or my family, but I am better than you, at this moment in time, because I am trying to accept responsibility for my decisions and grow as a person! You’re right, we were children, but you’re a grown ass woman now, still doing juvenile shit!”

  “Get outta my face.” The woman waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “You ain’t better than me on my worst day, Eva. Just ’cause I got food stamps don’t mean shit. I still look better than you. That ain’t even probably yo’ real hair.” The woman chuckled as she tapped the ashes onto the ground.

  “I knew you were lying.” Zaire smirked. “You do remember me, just as I suspected. Needing a helping hand is not a sin, but sitting on a bench, filled with all of that hurt, all of that rage and anger of a million women, then turning it around and blasting it out like a fire hose at everyone who walks your way is not cool at all! We’ve all been hurt in our lives! We’ve all been in need! We’ve all been lied to, played, abused, played for a fool! The problem is, you haven’t grown. You enjoy being this way because it’s easier than looking deep inside yourself and finding out why you stay in this vicious cycle. Regardless, your children shouldn’t be punished simply because their mother is a damn fool. I am done with you. Demon has been faced and destroyed and I’m going to sleep just fine tonight. Enjoy your groceries…”

  Zaire turned to walk away.

  “You ain’t better than nobody ’cause you wrote some damn books and went to college!” She cackled. “Yeah, I know who you are, you dumb ass bitch! Yo’ mother was up there talkin’ to herself and sayin’ all kinds of crazy shit! It ain’t my fault, bitch, and you probably don’t fall too far from the tree! Don’t be mad at me ’cause she out of her fuckin’ mind. That shit was funny!” Zaire kept walking, the smile on her face getting bigger and bigger… “You damn near forty fuckin’ years old still talkin’ about that shit. You maaaaad?” The sad woman burst in a forced fit of laughter as she raged on.

  “You walkin’ away ’cause you know you ain’t shit! You can’t beat me, bitch! Swing on me, mothafucka! I want you to! Just ’cause you got nice clothes don’t mean a damn thing, bitch! You still ain’t all that pretty, even wit’ all that makeup and hair and shit! You still ain’t nothin’!” The woman’s voice got fainter, harder to hear, while Zaire’s weight on her shoulders got lighter. “Silly ass bitch! I done fuhgot yo’ name already!”

  Zaire spun around, a big, proud smile on her face. Her man was all in her ear, in some strange way, telling her what to say. It was time to deliver the truth, Savage style…

  “Bitch, I’m famous!” (Thank you, author Phoenix Daniels for saying this at an author’s event. I salute you, heffa! Readers, go check out Phoenix’s work if you haven’t already. I had to pay homage! Okay, back to the story…)

  She went back to the store and found a little old man in line, all by his lonesome.

  Oh, he is adorable! Look at his little checkered shirt and overalls… He can’t be more than five foot two!

  One by one, he placed ten tiny red apples on the conveyer belt, a tub of margarine, some cinnamon and brown sugar, a pre-made pie crust, and a canister of whipping cream. She approached him from the side.

  “Ohhh, someone is making a pie! Yummy!” The old man smiled wide, his little wide wrinkled face flushed in hues of red and pink.

  “I make them. It’s for my wife.” He folded his knobby hands together and faced the cashier. “She hasn’t been feeling well, but loves apple pie. I figured it would make her feel better.”

  The ringing of the items began and Zaire got back in line.

  “Well, isn’t that a nice thing for you to do! I hope she’ll be okay soon.”

  The old man’s jovial expression faded.

  “She has terminal cancer.”

  “Oh… I’m… I’m so sorry.” The wind was knocked out of her sails at the unexpected reply. She’d been on cloud nine after seeing how unhinged Deanna had become, but this was a real bummer.

  “It’s okay.” He nodded, his smile slowly coming back. “We’ve known for a while.” He shrugged. “Edith and I been together sixty-two years…”

  “Wow! I admire you two so much! That’s beautiful.”

  “I’m just appreciating each day that comes because we never know when our last will be, you know? Just appreciate today, young lady.” He tapped her hand. “Let go of all that ol’ silly fuddy duddy stuff.” He sighed. “Who did what to you, what you did to them. Tonight, I’m baking a pie for my wife. That’s all I want to focus on. Life’s too short, you know?”

  “It most certainly is.” Zaire patted the man’s shoulder. As his groceries were being packed and put into the canvas sacks he’d brought, she called out to him. “Sir, I have a podcast.”

  “A podcast?” He paused.

  “Yes, it’s kind of like a radio station. Would you be interested in being interviewed? See, I talk about relationships, things like that. You’re just so inspirational and I think my listeners would love to hear your story! You really inspire me!”

  “Oh.” He blushed. “I don’t get out much.”

  “Oh no, no, see, you wouldn’t have to come by. I could just call you on the phone an
d we’d talk… have a conversation. That’s all it is but others would hear us. I don’t do podcast interviews but I am thinking I should start with those. You would be perfect as my first guest. I’d love to hear all about your wife, and if she is up to talking, I’d like to chat with her, too! I want to hear about your family, and all about you, your journey in life!”

  The man’s cheeks plumped as he showed that adorable smile once more.

  “Well, that sounds just fine! Could be fun!”

  The two exchanged telephone numbers, and she watched as he walked out of the store, slowly pushing his little cart. The cashier began to ring up her few items, then paused.

  “You’re a really good person, you know that?” The young woman’s expression grew sullen. “So many people come in here and get mad and impatient, but you made my night. You’re like a breath of fresh air.”

  “I wasn’t always… I was full of hot air.” They both got a good chuckle from that. “Let me tell you something, young lady, and you’re the real young lady, not me…” The woman grinned. “The way you handled that situation with that unhappy woman cursing at you and making her problems yours was very mature and professional. You’re so much further along than I was at your age, believe it or not. You keep setting goals for yourself and never settle. Be your authentic self. Don’t put on airs. Be savage about what you deserve, what is owed to you, and go get it!”

  Savage witnessed the fireworks blasting off a neighbor’s yard from the vantage point of his master suite terrace. The breeze blew gently through his white button-down shirt and pants and cooled his bare feet. Enjoying his beer, he crossed his ankles, smiled and waved at his guests below, all of them seeming to be having a good time. He hadn’t had a party since Vegas, so this had been long overdue. Some people gathered around the pool dancing, many of the women in revealing attire.

  Several people lifted their glasses in the air and downed the shots, partying the night away as the DJ spun records and the waiters served drinks and nibbles.

  He’d decided to throw this party out of need, not want. His bouts of isolation due to his work at times wore him down, the schedule draining. Depending on the assignment, he could be forced to spend weeks or more without human contact, his mere thoughts for company, as well as his guns and a penchant for killing. So now, it was time to relax and reconnect.

  Things had been so hectic, he hadn’t seen Harlem face-to-face in what felt like an eternity. In fact, he’d not even spoken to many of his closest friends. Things had changed unexpectedly. He’d been swallowed into an entirely new world. Uncharted territory.

  He was madly in love.

  After telling his guests he had something to take care of, he came upstairs, needing a moment alone. He stared at the small black velvet box he held in his hand, the one he’d been nervously checking and patting all evening. Popping it open, he smiled down at the striking scalloped pavé diamonds that encircled a huge round center gem with an intricate band. He grabbed his phone and dialed Zaire.

  “Hey, baby,” she answered. He could barely hear her. “Where are you? I was looking for you.”

  “I needed to come in the house and get something. Hey, can you come upstairs to the bedroom please?”

  “Huh? Baby, I can’t hear you!”

  “COME. INSIDE. UPSTAIRS.”

  “Oh, okay! Be right there.” She disconnected the call.

  He waited, so anxious, he contemplated sitting down before he risked passing out.

  I can’t believe I’m nervous like this! I don’t get like this about any fucking thing! My knees are buckling… Oh, God…

  He gripped the railing with all of his might and waited forever for his baby to arrive. Zaire finally entered, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit and sheer cover-all robe. She looked absolutely stunning. Her long, wet black hair hung in loose waves down her back as she sashayed over, sporting a pair of faux diamond adorned slides.

  “Let me tell you, Allison and Kim are flirting with every good-looking man here. They both should be ashamed at how thick they are laying it. I encouraged them though,” she quipped.

  “It’s all good, let them get their groove on… Hey, baby, I need to talk to you for a minute. Come over here and sit with me.”

  “I’m wet though… I was swimming! Did you see me?” She grinned wide.

  “I sure did, baby! Looked like a damn mermaid. It’s all right that you’re wet. This is important. Just sit down please.”

  She gave him a quizzical look, but took a seat in a plush black chair, one of two he had set around a white table. Standing before her, he took a deep breath, then exhaled.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah… look, uh, Eva,” He tried to convince himself he could get through this shit without falling apart. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “Here’s the thing… I… know you said you’re going to move in with me soon. You also said you didn’t want to sell your house just yet, and I get that. I was just happy you’ve started to prepare for the transition. But see, I know you… I know what you want, what you need. You need to feel secure, and I get that.”

  “Where’s all this coming from, Maximus?”

  “I’m getting to it… I am.” He swallowed, taking a moment to gather his wits, then continued. “When we first met, then started dating, I told you a lot of shit, right? Like, how I felt about marriage, kids, all that shit. And I meant it at the time, but see, when you fall in love with a person who exceeds your expectations, one who isn’t perfect but is perfect for you, you kinda… change. You evolve. My reasons for the whole marriage thing had nothing to do with lack of desire, per se. We’ve already discussed what was going on with me and I hate the brain picking you do to me sometimes, but I have to admit you were right about this.

  “I had a problem with women… didn’t trust you people. At all. A lot of shit was goin’ on with me in that regard. I’m a grown man so I do accept my actions as an adult, like the fact I haven’t always treated women with respect, seeing you all as something to just fuck and dismiss… and I’m not blaming her, but the cause of some of that was my mother.” She nodded and crossed her ankles, remaining quiet… giving him the floor. “I love my mother… I love her a whole fucking lot!” He got choked up, needing a minute. Zaire took his hand in hers and he closed his eyes, fighting back tears, dealing with the emotions…

  “She sacrificed a lot for me, and my dad, too… But see, there’s a hole inside of her, Eva.” He finally opened his eyes and looked down at her. “And I and my father can’t fill it. You were right about that, too. She’s in a lot of pain, always has been, but she doesn’t talk about it. Like you though, she holds that shit inside, though you’ve started to change. You’ve started to share more of yourself.”

  “Yes…” she said quietly, a sad smile on her face. “It will kill you, holding that kind of sadness within you.”

  He nodded.

  “Well, see, here’s what happened. Let me explain. My mother contacted her family when she was pregnant with me. That was forty years ago and she’d been living here in the States for at least a few years by then. She hadn’t spoken to them in forever and for all they knew, she was dead. Once they began to interact with her, talk to her, it was like she felt she needed to do anything she could to keep them around. They never showed any real interest in her wellbeing. They’ve just been using her the entire time, trying to see what they could get from her.

  “She came from a very poor family, Eva. They struggled, but unfortunately, sometimes that extreme poverty turns men into monsters. My mother’s challenges gave her an escape route—as you say sometimes, the disaster became a blessing. Had she not been in that orphanage, been sold, she might have remained there, barely surviving. Instead, she got the motivation to find a way to get out of there and legally enter the United States. She’s an American citizen, and proud of it. Eva, I have come to realize that my mother really needed that validation, you know? And since I’m not a w
oman and wasn’t in an orphanage in Armenia and going through the shit and abuse she went through, I have accepted there are parts of her mentality that I will never be able to understand.

  “I just have to accept my mother for who she is, ya know? Now, there’s more to the story. There’s some shit going on that I can’t get into right now, but it’s kinda brought this full circle. My mother always wanted a family, security, love from her bloodline. Culturally, for her, that’s a big deal. She doesn’t understand my father and me trying to make her understand for all of these years that we’ve created our own family, that not everyone in our clan has our back. Blood doesn’t mean shit if there’s no respect. My mother just wants love from them, like you said. That’s normal, right?” Eva nodded. “It makes her feel secure, and gives her purpose. And that brings me back to you. I know you didn’t sell your house so you’d always have some place to go should what we have fall apart.”

  “That’s not true, Max.”

  “Yeah, it is. You may not realize this, but it is. You want to be with me, you want to make me happy, but you don’t want to put yourself in a position where, if something crazy happens, you have no safety net.”

  The woman took a big breath, but said nothing this time. Didn’t try to protest. “I’ve heard you talking on your podcast about things like that, about women making smarter choices. You probably asked yourself, ‘What do I look like moving in with this guy and we’ve not discussed marriage seriously?’ I know what you want… you’ve made it clear. And I’m just the man to give it to you, baby. You don’t need anybody else to fill those shoes but me. I want this, not because you want it, but because I know you’ll take it as seriously as me. I know you’ll be by my side through thick and thin, so there’s no need to drag this out any longer. The safety net won’t be that house. It’ll be me.”

  He got down on one knee, staring at the floor, and heard her gasp. Digging into his pocket, he removed the box and opened it. When he looked at her, they both were quietly crying. He smiled through the tears.