Beautiful Otherness

by Shirley Simmons

  The following semester, I pledged Alpha Kappa Alpha Sorority, Inc. Chase had pledged a fraternity while at Bethune Cookman, and he began spending more time with his fraternity brothers at Philander. During the first two years of our relationship, we flourished, but now things were changing between us. Chase had started to drink every day, and when he wasn’t drinking, he was smoking weed. He also started to lie about everything, including things that did not require a lie. I began to question why I was even with him—who he had become. I guess I still felt a sense of obligation to his mother, who had taken me in out of the goodness of her heart, but I needed another outlet, someone or something to take my mind off Chase and his mess.

  That’s when Murphy Honeycutt came into my life, and she was just the distraction I needed.

  Murphy Honeycutt was tall and caramel-skinned, half-Dominican-half Nigerian. She was the girl all the guys noticed first. Maybe it was her height. Maybe it was her body. Or perhaps it was her piercing eyes.

  When she walked on the campus, you could feel the guys staring. You also could hear the women whispering to their men, “Don’t you look at her,” which, since men will be men, they could not help but do anyway.

  Despite all of her physical beauty, it was her personality that was most attractive. She had a way of making you feel like you were the only person who mattered when you talked to her. Most people found themselves opening their soul to her.

  Chase is the one who introduced me to her, and we hit it off immediately. He also warned me to stay away from Murphy. He was never a jealous boyfriend, but he feared I would receive too much residual attention when I was with her. Chase always enjoyed the attention I brought to him in his hometown, so he knew this was a real possibility, not just a jealous pipedream. He would perk up when people would say I was the cute girl from Florida with an over-the-top fashion sense and a convertible. But he was not pleased when he found out Murphy and I had become close. Murphy was outgoing like me. She sought adventure and played by her own rules…just like me.

  Over the summer, we spent time doing whatever we could think of, but mostly shopping, especially if we were having a difficult day. Chase and I were already starting to drift apart, but it was his anger about me spending time with Murphy that had contributed to our final breakup. The time had come. I finally decided it was time for me to move out and live on my own. For the first time in my life, I would have no one to fall back on, even though Dr. Morgan had promised to continue to care for me. I was grateful to have had Dr. Morgan, but I was determined not to need her.

  I had never lived alone, and I must admit I was afraid. I found a furnished two-bedroom apartment at a reasonable price, and because I did not like the idea of living by myself, Murphy became my roommate. Jamie and Lori were my two line sisters. We had pledged our sorority together and, including Murphy, I had built some solid friendships. We did everything together. It was like having a family again.

  I tried desperately to forget my past, and that past—along with certain people associated with it--soon became a distant memory. That did not include my mom, of course. She was the best part of my past and would forever be with me. But now I was beginning to see that I needed to remember the good times with her and stop mourning her death. It’s not what she would have wanted for me.

  I told my friends that I was an only child with deceased parents. If they asked too many questions, I would deflect and redirect the conversation. This was my defense. It was my way of controlling how much information I was willing to give about myself, and it kept me from having to talk about the painful issues of my past. In other words, everyone was on a need-to-know basis.

  *

  Murphy returned home excited and animated after the Keith Sweat, Bell Biv DeVoe concert she had gone to. She rushed in and immediately began to share how she met the band and how she was invited to the show in Nashville, Tennessee, which was about four hours away. She asked me if I was interested in going. I didn’t have classes on Friday and only had plans of reading ahead over the weekend, so it was an easy decision.

  “Of course,” I quickly responded.

  We hurriedly packed and hit the road in her Corvette. We had taken a few road trips together during our newly formed friendship, mostly to University of Arkansas in Pine Bluff, and we always had fun. I didn’t see any reason why this trip would by any different in that sense, so I had no reason to say no.

  When we arrived in Nashville, we only had about two hours before the concert started, so we quickly got a room and dumped our stuff, showered and changed, then went to the venue.

  The concert was mind-blowing! Murphy mentioned her connection and we were escorted backstage, where there were other fans, industry people, musicians, and a table filled with food and drink. As we watched from off stage, I remember thinking that Murphy had landed a great connect.

  One of the managers was tripping hard over Murphy that evening, so after the show, we went to breakfast with him at his invitation. Murphy played along enough to see where things were headed, and by the end of breakfast, he was like putty in her hands. He told us their next stop was Atlanta. He also suggested that we join them. Murphy told him that we were college students and would need to think it over. Before we thought too long, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of money.

  “Look, ladies, it would mean so much to me if you would join us in Atlanta,” he said as he counted out a few hundred in crisp new bills—six hundred dollars in total. He also promised to book a hotel room for us. Murphy and I excused ourselves to discuss the offer. We returned and told him we would accept.

  It was funny to me how things were unfolding. My best friend, Lynn, who was also my godsister, attended college in Atlanta. I phoned ahead and told her I was coming to town with Keith Sweat and Bell Biv DeVoe. She was in disbelief with the idea of me traveling with a band and wanted proof, so we made plans to meet up when we arrived so that she could see for herself.

  I had never been a groupie, and I wanted to make it clear to Murphy that I was not going to start now. If this wasn’t on the up and up, with no funny business expected of us, I was out.

  Once we arrived in Atlanta, we checked into our room, picked up Lynn, and spent the rest of our day with her. We stopped by the venue just as they were doing a sound check, and we were able to spend time with Murphy’s guy. We wrapped up with Lynn in time to make it back to the room to prepare for the show.

  Atlanta is a great city to party in, so after the show we hit the clubs and partied all night.

  The next morning, there was a knock on the door. It was Murphy’s guy. She answered the door and they sat in the lounge area of the room. I could hear him talking as I lay in bed. It sounded like he wasn’t happy about not getting to spend time with Murphy. He and Murphy talked for a few minutes to resolve any misunderstandings before he went to the bathroom. Returning from the bathroom he passed my bed and deliberately grabbed the covers and yanked them from over me.

  “Kennedy, it’s time to go,” he said, and he walked out and slammed the door.

  “What are we doing?” I asked Murphy. “And what’s wrong with him?”

  “It’s your lucky day. We are going to Orlando!” she said, waving another five hundred fifty dollars in crisp new bills in the air.

  I sprung up from the bed. “Girl, that man is going to want something.” Then, I jumped out of bed and ran to the shower. “Breakfast is on you, Murphy,” I screamed.

  She smiled and replied quietly to no one, “No, breakfast is on him.’’

  We drove to Orlando for the concert. We were very content with the way things were working out. Even though we had been traveling with the band, we never saw them off the stage, which was fine for Murphy and me. Murphy’s guy eventually got his date with her, so he was more than pleased.

  Although we knew we needed to stop what we were doing and return to school, we would be fortunate to have only missed a couple of days of classes if we returned to Arkansas. But we were really enjo
ying this road trip, so we decided not to return to school yet and continued the tour with the band.

  Miami was the next stop, and we could not miss the chance to go to Miami. There was always so much happening there! Money flowed through this city the way iguanas flowed through the canals of Florida. It seemed like everybody had it and they were willing to spend it.

  It was the last stop on the tour, and we had had a ball the whole way. Murphy’s guy checked us into our room, but this time, he said we would have to share a suite with him and his roommate. We didn’t think much of it because by that point we had spent so much time with them that we had begun to feel comfortable. Besides, he had reserved a two-bedroom suite, which meant Murphy and I would have a bedroom for ourselves.

  The roommate was an older guy in his thirties. The entire trip he had been polite even when I told him that we were not there to participate in what some of the other girls that were around were doing. We weren’t groupies.

  After the Miami show, we went to dinner with the entire band and their manager. The champagne flowed and everyone had a wonderful time. Murphy and I had been going all day, and by the end of a late dinner, we were done. There was no more partying in us. We drove to the hotel anticipating a long lie-in. I wanted to sleep til noon. I was out like a light soon after I crawled into bed at 3 am.

  My dreams were troubled. I dreamed of the boys back in my small town, ganging up on me, chasing me, trying to get me down on the ground. In my dream, Chase stepped in with a sinister grin and started to part my legs while the other guys laughed and pointed their fingers at me. I woke with a shock.

  At first, I thought I was still dreaming. All the champagne that I’d consumed left me feeling groggy and lethargic, but not enough to know that there really was a guy in my bed attempting to spread my legs. The roommate.

  I sprung up, kicking and screaming.

  “What are you doing? You filthy pig! Get out of here! Get out!”

  He rolled over on the bed bleeding from his nose. My frantic kicking had landed squarely.

  “What the hell, man. You kicked the shit out of me, bitch.”

  “You better be happy that’s all I did. I did not give you permission to touch me. Where’s Murphy? How did you get in here?”

  I was enraged. I grabbed the clock from the nightstand and began swinging it like a lariat. I clocked him in the side of the head and dared him to take a step closer.

  “C’mon, asshole, you wanna play, let’s play.” I was so infuriated I didn’t realize I was still naked.

  “I will beat the shit out of you right here, right now you bastard!”

  He ducked and dodged the flying clock, looking for any place to escape being hit again. I hit the mirror and it fell from the wall. The small TV came crashing to the floor as he tried to take cover behind it.

  ‘‘Why are you running, big boy? And where the hell is Murphy, you contemptible mother…? You’re disgusting. Do you realize how old I am? Do you know how old you are? Oh, my god, you sicken me!”

  I swung the clock and smacked him in his back. Then again in the head. Murphy and her guy had been in the next room and rushed in. The clock casing had shattered leaving only the inner components attached to the cord, but I continued swinging. Without a word, Murphy began kicking the crap out of him.

  “Why are we beating his ass?” she managed to say among the fray.

  I growled, “I woke up to this piece of trash trying to touch me without my permission in a place that definitely needed permission! I was asleep and woke up to find him in my bed! I did not ask you to touch me!” I screamed. “What were you thinking?” I stared him down and he tried feebly to answer. “That wasn’t a question, jackass!”

  Murphy gave him a final kick as he lay curled up on the floor before rushing over to me and wrapping me in a sheet. “It’s ok, Kennedy. I got you. I got you.’’

  Murphy’s guy walked over to his battered friend and punched him in the face. Blood trickled from his mouth. All he could do was roll over and moan.

  “I am not going to jail for your dumb ass. Get your stupid ass up.”

  The two men left the room, the one dragging the other by his shirt collar. Murphy sat me on the bed and tried to comfort me. I was shaking with adrenaline as every muscle in my body convulsed. A lump of emotion had built in my throat, and now that I wasn’t screaming, I was finding it difficult to get words out. But the last thing I wanted to do was let anyone see me cry.

  I looked around the room at the destruction I had done and managed a weak smile. The room was trashed. It was then that I noticed his wallet on the floor. I walked over and fished through it. I removed the contents and handed Murphy his driver’s license. Turning on the broken TV. It made a screeching sound and tried to cycle through the channels before going completely black. The guys returned from the adjacent room. Without saying a word, he gathered his wallet while holding his bags. His friend shoved him out the door before he could say any other words. Murphy’s friend turned toward us and apologized.

  “Kennedy, are you ok? I’m sorry, and I will take care of the damages.” He turned and walked out the door.

  I jumped to my feet and quickly snatched the driver’s license from Murphy’s hand. I opened the door and screamed holding the ID in the air so they both could see it.

  “Hey, asshole! Phillip is going to kick your ass.”

  Once I closed the door, Murphy just stared at me, and after a long pause, she sat again on the bed.

  “Kennedy, who the hell is Phillip?”

  *

  I was so engrossed in the story, reliving every sickening moment of it, that I didn’t realize I had blurted out Phillip’s name. I wished I could shove the words back into my mouth, but I couldn’t.

  Thank god Kylie had left the room because I would have hated for her to find out about Phillip that way.

  Greyson and I looked at each other. Thank God for my husband who always knew how to save the day.

  “Honey, I can’t believe you threw that out there. You used the Phillip line?” He laughed it off. “You’ll sic Phillip on anybody you can’t stand.”

  “Hahaha, very funny,” Humor has a way of healing. Yet, a part of me felt bad. It was the first time any uncontrolled thoughts or words regarding Phillip had escaped my mouth.

  A BIG ASS WAD OF MONEY

  We left Arkansas with a total of seventy-one dollars, a full tank of gas and the intention of getting on the road and returning home after the Nashville show. We’d witnessed one of the greatest R&B shows of all time and had traveled four states and nearly thirteen hundred miles. Every moment had been spectacular. Well, maybe not every moment.

  *

  Murphy and I sat at a little Cuban cafe on Bayside. We had somehow managed to spend all the cash Murphy’s guy had given her, and we were now down to our last sixty dollars. The cafecito was strong, but it gave us the jolt of energy that was needed while we planned our return to Little Rock.

  We were sitting in the sun enjoying our quesitos, freshly removed from the oven. We could feel life being restored with every bite of the warm cheese pastry and robust coffee. Steam swirled from my cup, and for a short while nothing mattered. After all, we were in Miami. There was no need to hurry.

  Thirty minutes into our euphoria, I focused myself. “Murphy, I have a plan.’’

  “I’ll take anything right now seeing how my mother just turned us down.’’

  “And you find that hard to believe, Murphy?”

  Prior to arriving at the café, Murphy had called her mother in an attempt to get money. Her mother could not believe that we had traveled to Miami. She was even more upset we were not in school. I think her exact words were, ‘‘If you girls were smart enough to travel that far you better be smart enough to get back.” Murphy rolled her eyes the whole time as she recounted her mother’s words. She couldn’t tell her mother that some guy we’d met on the road had given her eleven-hundred dollars and we’d managed to spend most of it.

  I j
ust laughed uncontrollably. “I’m sorry Murphy, but that’s funny as hell.”

  “Well, I don’t find it particularly funny.”

  “Ok, my bad. Listen, I’ve thought long and hard about what we need to do, and it’s the only solution to make sense of our problem.”

  “I’m so glad you’ve given this so much thought, Kennedy. What do we do? Where do we go from here?” Murphy was spastic with her hands flying everywhere. “All I know is, my mother better put money in my bank account! I think she will, but let’s hear it. What is your plan?’’

  But Murph’s mother’s words were true. I was smart; we both were. It was time to step up to the plate and prove I could be on my own, think on my own.

  “We simply have to make it to Orlando. On our way back, we will stop in Orlando where I can get money from one of my mother’s businesses. I’m certain we can stay with one of my godsisters until Monday.”

  ‘‘That’s a great idea but I was hoping we could somehow stay in Miami. You know, this is my first time here. I want to see what all the hype is about, Kennedy.’’

  “Murphy, we have a half tank of gas, so it should only take a few more dollars to get us a full tank. We should have more than enough to see Miami and get us to Orlando. We’ll still have about forty dollars to enjoy the city.’’

  We continued enjoying the cafecito and watching the beautiful people passing by the cafe. Everyone that passed was beautiful. Just when you thought you had seen the last beautiful person, another group would pass. It was more like being on another planet. We sure as hell were not in Little Rock anymore! By the time we downed our coffee, we had already heard four different languages - Spanish, Portuguese, Patois, and Creole. If you were born and raised in Florida, you have an ear for these languages. It all was like music to us. The Ozarks of Arkansas did not offer different dialects. The closest thing being remotely different from English was what I referred to as backwoods mountain mumbling.

  As we sat there discussing the events at the hotel and how it all unfolded, we laughed at the butt whooping we delivered to that jackass.