The Viper and his Majesty

by Tiana Laveen

  “You’re a mechanic?”

  “No. My stepfather is, my biological father is, too. So are two uncles, and a few cousins. I grew up around it.” He closed the hood. “I like cars too, so I stay on top of things like this.” He rubbed his hands on a paper towel he found lying nearby. “You’ve got some other car complications too, like this filter here, but they’re easy fixes. Get your purse and your child. I’ll drop your son off and drive you to work.”

  “No,” she barked defiantly, then cleared her throat. He could see in her eyes she was afraid, but trying to stand her ground. He was used to people being afraid of him. It came with the territory. “I appreciate you comin’ over here, Viper, but I’ll take care of it. Thank you.” She made her way to her front door, her heels clicking against the concrete. He stood there for a spell, holding that wrinkled paper towel, staring at the closed front door. Then, he slowly walked up her driveway, towards her porch. And waited. He could hear her on the phone; she sounded frantic. Desperate. It wasn’t long before he heard a child in the background, and her asking the boy to quiet down.

  He slid his phone out of his pocket, and made a call. Then, he knocked on the door. Everything inside became quiet.

  “Majesty, it’s me. I know you know that I’m out here. Now you know that I never left. Look, I’m going to leave and go home.”

  “Please do. I don’t mean to be rude, and I appreciate you coming by, I do, but you’re a… you’re not—”

  “I don’t need you to tell me what you think I am, or how much you appreciate me, and all of that other shit. You don’t owe me any explanations, and neither do I. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. I offered you a ride; you said no. Cool.” He threw up his hands. “I can’t make you come with me, but uh, I arranged a Lyft for you. It’ll be here in ten minutes. The ride is arranged from my gift account, so you can drop off your son on the way, too. No charge to you.”

  “I didn’t need you to do that,” she said after a moment of hesitation.

  “I didn’t need to do it, either. But I did anyway.”

  Having heard enough, he headed back home. It got to him – the hopelessness in her voice, how she could lose her job, how she didn’t have the money to call a cab or anything like that. She’d sunk all of her expendable income into that house she was renting to own, from what he could make out. Something about the way she’d looked him in the eye, shoved her fear aside when they’d first seen one another, resonated with him. She’d practically started shaking, but she’d stated her case about his music, and she’d meant what she said. She wasn’t the first one to complain – but she was the first one with balls big enough to confront him face to face versus taking the cowardly way out and calling the police anonymously. Perhaps she hadn’t known who he was before she’d come trouncing across the street, but once she did realize, the woman hadn’t backed down. He’d caught her eyes fixated on one of his ‘Latin King’ tattoos, a serpent wrapped around the letters.

  She’d pushed her fear aside and done what she’d needed to do. Because of that, he had in fact turned the music down at eleven that evening, right on the dot. He’d kept his word.

  It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful – her face and body were incredible. Something truly lovely to adore. It didn’t hurt that she smelled like soft music, reggae, and ocean waves. It didn’t hurt that she seemed to be fiercely independent, but possessed a soft, sweet femininity that called to him, deep within his soul. It was obvious she was a single mother. No real man would let their woman struggle with their car that way, at least not one worth his salt.

  As he re-entered his home, he was playfully jumped on by his dogs as if they’d not seen him for weeks. While he freshened up their food bowls, he looked out the kitchen window and saw a black Toyota RAV4 pull up. Moments later, Majesty stepped out of her home, her son in tow, and got into the car. He smirked as he poured himself a drink, and watched them drive away…

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘Tow’ the Line and Ain’t that Peachy?

  “My wife used to do it.” The tall, thin Black man with tight, white kinky curls, and a prominent bald spot on his head, stood on Majesty’s porch holding a peach pie. The smell wafted in the air like invisible flags waving in the wind. He had a kind smile, his dark skin was aged from the sun and time, and he smelled of tobacco and earth. The whites of his heavily hooded eyes were a bit yellow, and straight black and gray hairs peeked out from his wide nostrils. He held the tin pan containing a dessert as though it were a delicate child. “She died seven months ago. She used to welcome new people to the neighborhood with a homemade dessert. I’ve picked up the torch since she passed.”

  Majesty stepped outside her door.

  “That’s nice of you. Thank you.” She took the pie from him. It was still warm, and although she hated peach pie, the fact that it was just out of the oven filled her with comfort. It was truly the thought that counted. “Do you make it from scratch, too?”

  Just then, she spotted Viper pulling out of his garage in his black Bugatti with gold trim. The loud Latin music pouring from the car made the entire street vibrate, and it seemed as though the bastard was inside of a giant dildo. He is a bit of a dick. She smirked at the thought. The show-off revved his engine before speeding down the block. Meanwhile, the old neighbor from two doors down kept talking about not using too much butter in the crust. As if noticing her distraction, he craned his neck and watched the black and gold expensive car disappear down the road.

  “That’s Dominic,” he offered.

  “Dominic? That must be his government name. He told me it was Viper. Of course, no one would name their son after a snake.” She chuckled. “Uh, I’m sorry, sir, speaking of names, I didn’t catch yours.”

  “Earl. Earl Dickens. Some call me, Mr. Earl.”

  “Mr. Earl, would you like to step inside?” She realized she’d forgotten her manners. She’d been so frazzled with unpacking, working overtime the last couple of days, helping Troy with his homework, making sure he got his hair cut at the barber, and trying to get her car fixed, that it seemed her basic home training in hospitality had gone out the window.

  “Okay, thank ya. Thank ya.”

  The old man timidly followed her inside. She kept the front door open, then closed the screen behind him.

  “Let me put this pie in the kitchen and get you something to drink. I’ll be right back. Please have a seat.”

  “I’m okay right here. Need to stretch my legs anyway.”

  Mr. Earl crossed his slight arms and hands, and waited like a statue in his army green button-down shirt, slouchy brown pants, and worn shoes. She placed the pie on the counter, then pulled out a pitcher of a concoction she often made for Troy from the refrigerator. His favorite drink: a mixture of pink lemonade, Sprite, fruit punch, pineapple juice, strawberry flavoring and a little blackberry puree. After pouring a glass, she marched back into her living room, then to the foyer area where Mr. Earl remained.

  “You’ve got a real nice home. I like seein’ younger people movin’ here.”

  “Thank you.” She handed him the glass and he graciously took a sip. “I didn’t ask if you were thirsty. Just assumed you were since it’s such a hot day.”

  “This is good. Real good.” He smacked his lips. “Woulda been better with some Vodka though.” They both burst out laughing.

  “I agree.” She shrugged. “But I make it for my son, too.”

  “Oh, yes. I saw your boy runnin’ ’round the other day. How old is he?”

  “He’s eight, about to turn nine soon. In the fourth grade.”

  The old man smiled big and wide.

  “Children are a blessing.” She nodded in agreement. “I’ve got seventeen grandchildren!” he stated proudly.

  “Oh, wow! That’s a lot of children to keep track of.”

  “It is, but I manage. Check it out…” He then started to rattle off every grandchild’s name. “Me and Arnette had six children. Five of ’em still alive. I had a so
n prior to meeting her, my first marriage, so that’s seven children for me. He’s Earl Jr.” Majesty mustered a smile. Truth be told, she was bone tired, but refused to rush the fellow home. He was a widower and had come out of his way to welcome her to the neighborhood, bringing her a fresh pie. “Well, I won’t tarry too long. I’ll get goin’. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Majesty Wilson.”

  “It was nice meeting you, too.” She opened the door for him, and as he made way to the steps, she called out to him. “Uh, Mr. Dickens, I mean, Mr. Earl, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

  “You can.” He turned back towards her. “Don’t mean I’ll know the answer, but I’ll try.”

  “Dominic… Do you know him well?” She pointed to the big pretty house across the street where the asshole lived.

  The old man tapped his finger against his chin, then smiled, as if remembering something near and dear to his heart.

  “Well, let me start from the beginning.” Oh no… “I moved ova here with my retirement money when Arnette got sick ’bout five years ago. Wanted to give her her dream house. These houses are expensive. Nice part of town. Golf courses. Beaches. Once she got diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer, I knew I had to make sure she had everything she wanted, ’cause wasn’t no way I was going to have her last days be anythin’ short of glorious. She didn’t act like she was sick, though; she looked beautiful up until her dyin’ day.” Majesty reached for the fabric of her shirt and twisted it when the melancholy struck.

  “My wife was as sweet as that pie.” He shook his head, donning a sad smile. “Went to church every Sunday. Sometimes, I went with her. Cooked big dinners for the whole family. Volunteered at the homeless shelters. Played her card games and loved to babysit the grandbabies. Oh, but uh, let me get back to your question… Dominic… We saw Dominic movin’ in one day while we were sittin’ on the porch together. A bunch of biker type guys was wit’ him. Big ol’ mean lookin’ dudes!” The man’s face became animated as he spoke. “We knew these white folks was gonna lose their shit once they caught sight of that big ass Latino man wit’ all them tattoos walkin’ around, lookin’ like a coloring book! Oh, ’scuse me, didn’t mean to cuss in front of no woman. My wife used to get on me about that! I used to be in the navy. Once a sailor, always a sailor… this mouth still a sailor, too.” His complexion deepened right before her eyes.

  Majesty burst out laughing. “It’s fine. I’ve been known to say my share of colorful words. I know you’re right, too, about what the neighbors would think.”

  He grinned. “They didn’t pay me and Arnette any mind, guess ’cause we’re old, but they kinda stuck up out here. Stick to themselves. So, Arnette said to me, ‘Well, better go bake a pie for the new family.’ She yawned, got up off the swing, went on in the house, and set out all these ingredients to make an apple cobbler. Oh, so Viper’s ass gets a delicious apple cobbler but I get the stinky peach one? Why didn’t you make me an apple cobbler, Mr. Earl? I sure would’ve enjoyed that! Majesty kept her wayward, silly thoughts about the pie to herself. “I sat out there and watched him and his friends load stuff in, and then, to my surprise, they all left… ’cept for him. We was expecting him to have a wife ’nd kids. He has a bunch uh dogs, though. I noticed him putting in lights and cameras over the following days, and putting a fence up. Then he—”

  “What happened when your wife took him the pie? How’d he respond?” she cut in, then regretted it, feeling rude. It takes him so long to get to the point. “I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

  “Naw, naw.” He waved to her. “That’s all right. If I recollect right, she said he said, ‘thank you,’ but not much else. Not really a talker. Gave her one word answers, but seemed nice enough.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “I started noticing he was trainin’ them dogs.” He shook his finger in the direction of Viper’s house. “See, I take two walks a day. One in the mornin’, after breakfast, and one right before dinner. That man would be out there with some clicker gadget doohickey in his hand, sometimes suited up in those protective body suits so when the dog bite, it don’t get cha too bad. The boy bad! I’m tellin’ you, it was like watching a movie.” The man grinned from ear to ear. “I ain’t nevah seen a man make Pit Bulls, Bull Dogs, big ol’ German Shepherds, Rottweilers and Great Danes bow down with the snap of a finger! I’m tellin’ you, dem dogs bowed and prayed to him when he got through wit’ ’em. Treated him like God. I don’t know much about him personally though, Ms. Wilson, so maybe I didn’t tell you what you were lookin’ for. That’s all I know.”

  “Please just call me Majesty, and you’ve been a great help. I was just curious is all.”

  He nodded. “I know he likes loud music, like me. But mine is loud ’cause I can’t hear shit.” They both burst out laughing again. Mr. Earl was funny, and boy did she need the laugh. “Are you uh… are you takin’ an interest in him? A suitor? You thinking of courting Dominic?” Mischief shined in his timeworn eyes.

  Her heart thumped, and her throat constricted like she’d swallowed food wrong.

  “Uh…no. Not really.” Running her hand along her collarbone, she shook her head, a bit taken aback by the question.

  “Hope I’m not imposing. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything like that.”

  “No… no, you’re fine,” she lied.

  “It’s just that you’re a real nice-lookin’ woman, and if you live here, must mean you doin’ all right. He’s doin’ all right apparently, too. I bet you two are around the same age, too.”

  So now Mr. Earl is a matchmaker. She suppressed a laugh.

  “I’m not interested in Viper, Dominic, whatever name he goes by. See, I was just curious about him because we had a… situation, I guess you could say.”

  “A situation?” His brow rose.

  “Yes. I had to ask him to turn his music down. I work and have classes at night, so having a concert right across the street is not exactly ideal.”

  “Oh, I see. Where do you work if ya don’t mind me asking?”

  “I work full time as a customer service rep for a retail company, and I work part time as a Human Resources assistant. I also have an online service where I help kids who’ve had some trouble getting into college or trade school. On top of that I am in school getting my Master’s degree in Human Resources. Almost finished, too… just a bit more time to go.”

  “Whoa! I like that!”

  Her face felt hotter as she flushed.

  “Yeah… I keep busy. Just trying to make a good life for me and Troy.”

  “Ambition! You’re pretty and smart! What a jackpot. I love to hear about us bein’ busy, and doing great things.” She nodded in agreement. “Me and my wife made sure our children went to college if they wanted to. We made a way. Put three of ’em through school, and our eldest daughter, Linda, is a doctor now.” He beamed with pride.

  “That’s wonderful. She is blessed to have you.”

  “Your parents live around here?”

  She briefly glanced at her watch. “No.”

  It took a moment for him to get the hint she wasn’t saying any more. The last thing she wished to discuss was her some-timey mother. Nor did she wish to discuss her father, whom she didn’t have any desire to speak with.

  “All right.” He offered a smile, his eyes narrowed. No doubt he’d figured out that was a sore spot to be avoided and left alone. “Now, ’bout the music situation you said you had wit’ Dominic. Usually, these White folks just call the cops on him, but that never goes anywhere.” He shrugged. “They stopped callin’ about his music after a while. I would see the police pull up, talk to him, then off they’d go. Five minutes later, it would be turned up even louder.” He chuckled and shook his head. Mr. Earl didn’t seem terribly concerned about Viper. In fact, it was as if he found him to be a source of entertainment. He started to walk down the steps.

  “Okay, well, thank you for talking to me, and for the wonderful pie! I am sure my son will enjoy a slice tonight with
some vanilla ice-cream.”

  “You’re more than welcome. If you need anything, you let me know.”

  “Thank you so much for that offer.”

  “Ain’t too many of us over here. They think we don’t belong here, Majesty, but we do. We do…”

  Mr. Earl made his way back to his driveway. Back in the house washing dishes, she reflected on her conversation with the old man who was full of personality, good conversation, and truth. Mr. Earl reminds me a little of my grandfather. Not in how he looks, but the way he moves and acts. Grandaddy has been gone for fifteen years, but I will never forget him. He used to give me oranges from his tree and tell me I was his favorite granddaughter, but not to tell anyone. She smiled at the memory. Then, she heard a car pulling up in her driveway.

  “That must be Troy. He’s a little early today.”

  Majesty had made a quick association with one of the moms at the fancy school Troy was now attending. The woman didn’t live too far away, and Troy and her son were in the same class. The deal was that Troy could ride home with them if Majesty would join the PTA. As she dried her hands off, she heard a beeping sound.

  What in the world is that? She made her way to her front door.

  “Hey!” she hollered out as a tow truck backed up, ready to haul her car away. “I paid this month’s bill!” An Asian guy wearing a dark green beanie hat got out of the truck and began to hook her car to the pulleys. “Get those off my car!”

  “Relax, lady,” he said with a smile. She wanted to smack it clean off his face.

  “What are you doing? I said I paid the damn bill. I am not delinquent.”

  “This is not a repo.” He smiled wider now, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth. “It’s boss’ orders. Your car isn’t being towed. Well…” He smirked. “Technically, it is, but it’s being taken in for repairs. No big deal.”

  “But I never called anyone to come get my car. I made some calls to get estimates, and I called the dealership and tried to explain to them about a recall, but they said they couldn’t get me in until next week, so I tried to—”