by Silhouettes
“I’ma eat some of yours,” she said, watching me open my box. Steam from the gravy ran across our noses, smelling damn good.
“Unfortunately, ma, you ain’t got nothin’ comin’. All of this rice here is goin’ in my stomach and my stomach only.”
I started to eat my rice, teasing Poetry as if it was so good. It really was, so I didn’t have to pretend. “Mmmm,” I said with each bite. “Delicious.”
Poetry playfully pushed my shoulder. “Oooo, you are so wrong, Prince. Give me some. Just a little.”
I kept teasing Poetry, then reached out to give her some of my rice. When she opened her mouth, I snatched the fork away and put it into my mouth. We both laughed, and to be honest, I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed so hard about anything. Poetry pouted and folded her arms. She looked so cute that I couldn’t resist sharing my rice.
“I meant to ask you,” she said after she swallowed the rice. “I know your real name ain’t Prince, is it?”
“Yes. It’s Jamal Prince Perkins, but don’t you ever call me Jamal. I prefer Prince. Now, what about you? I’m sittin’ here sharin’ my rice with you and don’t remember your last name. I remember seein’ it on your driver’s license, but what is it?”
“I’m not going to tell you because all you’re going to do is laugh.”
“Why would I laugh? I don’t recall it being that funny.”
“My last name is Wright. Poetry Wright, get it?”
I shrugged, but smiled as it came back to me. “Do you write, Poetry?”
“See, I knew you’d make fun of my name. I don’t write poetry, but I do love to write.”
“I do too. But I haven’t done so in a while.”
Poetry reached out to touch my chest. She scrolled her fingers along my Street Soldier tattoo and looked at my mother’s name. “Girlfriend?” she asked.
“Nope. Mama.”
“What about Street Solider? What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m a soldier on the streets, particularly in my hood. I see the streets as bein’ a warzone and me being a soldier who’s learnin’ how to survive.”
“Then I guess I’m a Street Soldier too. It ain’t been no picnic for me, but at least I’m still alive. I guess I can’t complain.”
“Me either,” I said, changing my thoughts to what was really going on with me.
I lost my appetite, and gave Poetry the rest of my rice. She held the box in her hand and started to finish it off. I wrapped my arms around her waist and looked at her still straddled on my bike. “Ay, I apologize for givin’ you such a hard time about us hookin’ up. Again, I was diggin’ you since the first time I saw you, but wasn’t sure about how to approach you. You forgive me?”
“Uh huh,” she said, looking into the rice box and scrapping the sides with the fork. She put the last of it in her mouth, then closed the box. “Let’s go on the porch. I would invite you inside, but truth is, my grandmother be trippin’ about people she don’t know being in her house.”
“I’m good,” I said, helping Poetry off my bike. I followed her on the porch and we sat next to each other on the swing.
“So, you gon’ give me a job or what?” she asked.
“You are dead serious about finding a job, aren’t you?”
“Hell, yeah, I’m serious. Having no money ain’t fun, but I guess it depends on how much you paying.”
“My pay is always good. Spectacular, some may say, but you can be sure that you’ll be well taken care of.”
Poetry pursed her lips. “You talking about sex, and I’m talking about money. And you may as well get your mind out of the gutter, because you ain’t getting none of this booty no time soon.”
“For real?” I said with a shocked look on my face. “You seriously ain’t gon’ give me none? You were so willin’ to earlier, and now you done already changed your mind?”
“I wasn’t going to give you none earlier. I was just messing with you. Wanted you to see what you were missing out on, and I guess it worked. If you had opted to do it, I would have changed my mind and left.”
“See, you be playin’ too much. How you gon’ get naked in front of me, then not be willin’ to up the goods? You know I want some of that pretty pussy and that shit did look good.”
Poetry blushed, then pushed me back as I tried to move closer to her. I grabbed her waist and pulled her close to me. “Let’s go back to my apartment so I can hit that,” I said. “You know you want to feel me, don’t you?”
Poetry pulled away from me and shook her head. “Uh, no. I told you you weren’t getting none, especially how you played me. It’s going to be a loooong time before we get down like that. I hope you’re willing to wait.”
“Wait for what? I’m horny as hell right now!” I grabbed my crotch. “You would be so wrong for makin’ me wait.”
Poetry shrugged. “Sorry. But you played yourself today. And if you want to go back to your place and get served by that stripper-looking chick, go right ahead.”
After Poetry turning me down, it wasn’t like the thought of being with Jenay hadn’t crossed my mind. But I was enjoying my time with Poetry, and when she laid her head across my lap, I really felt comfortable.
“Don’t you go to sleep,” I said. “I know I’m not that borin’, am I?”
“Not at all. I had fun today, even though you damn near killed us on your bike.”
“You were in good hands. I wasn’t goin’ to let anything happen to you.”
As those words left my mouth, I became quiet. I hoped that if our connection turned into something, I could always protect her from harm. I hadn’t done a good job of protecting the ones I cared about, and if this ever became a difficult task for me, I knew I had to let go. We continued our conversation on the porch until almost two in the morning. I kept yawning, and when Poetry walked with me to my bike, I held her hand.
“I’ll call you soon,” I said.
“You’d better. Get some rest, and thanks for the good time.”
We both leaned in at the same time, tearing up each other’s lips. My hands roamed and so did hers. Holding her ass in my hands felt good, and as my dick started to rise, I hated to go there with her again, but couldn’t help it. “Come on and go back to my apartment with me. I’ll make it so worth it.”
“I’m sure you will, but I want to wait. I hope you don’t mind. You kind of wishy-washy, Prince, and I don’t want to be that chick who you just run to to get a nut. I’m looking for something more than that.”
I nodded, but wasn’t sure if I was ready to give Poetry the kind of relationship she wanted. And instead of begging for it, I took off on my bike, rushing home to take a cold shower.
I lay naked in bed, thinking about her and about the decision I had finally made about setting up Raylo’s friend. It had to be done, and as far as I could see it, there really was no other way.
Chapter Nine
Friends ... How Many of Us Really Have Them?
Yesterday I spoke to Raylo, telling him I was down with his plan. He wanted me to meet him at Mama’s house around seven tonight so we could go to Ernie’s house together. I didn’t have a good feeling about this, but the way Raylo said we could get away with it sounded doable. I checked on Nate at the liquor store, made sure everything was calm at the laundromat, then drove to Mama’s house to meet Raylo.
As soon as I got there, my cell phone rang. I looked at it only to see Poetry’s number. Since the other night, she’d called me two of three times, but I had been very busy with trying to take care of this thing with Mama. I told her that once I was finished handling some business today, I would stop by to see her. According to her, her grandmother had left for Mississippi to visit some relatives and would be gone for a couple of days. I was anxious to see her, too, but this definitely came first. I let her call go to voice mail, then went inside to meet Raylo. The door was already open. He stood in the living room, guzzling down a frothy bottle of beer. He pulled the bottle away from his lips,
then held it out tome.
“You want one?” he asked. “There’s plenty in the fridge.”
“Nah, I’m good. Ready to get this show on the road, I think.”
Raylo cocked his head back. “You think?”
For whatever reason, what I had done to Monroe was on my mind. I hadn’t mentioned any of it to Raylo, and before we went to his partner’s house, I decided to bring up the subject of Monroe, just to see Raylo’s reaction.
“I mean, I just got a funny feeling inside about some things. Do you happen to know a man by the name of Monroe who Mama dated?”
“Monroe?” he asked, putting the beer bottle up to his lips again. He swallowed, then shook his head. “Hell nah, I don’t know no nigga named Monroe. And when was she supposed to be seeing him when she’s been with me for years?”
Raylo looked offended by the mention of Monroe’s name. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, but I pushed. “I heard her mention him before and I figured she may be somewhere with him. Especially if she’s upset with you, it only makes sense for her to run to her other man.”
“There better not had been another man,” he said, raising his voice. “Do you know where this nigga live? ’Cause we can stop by his house right now to see what’s up!”
“Nah, I only know where he lives. I know where he used to live, but I’ve already been there. Jus’ ... just thought you may know him or somethin’. No big deal.”
“It may not be a big deal to you, but I know damn well Shante better not be shacked up with another motherfucker somewhere. After putting me through all of this bullshit, worryin’ about her ass, I will hurt her if she’s been with another man all along. That’s on a for real tip right there.”
I said nothing else, and watched as Raylo finished off his beer. I guess I believed him, for now, and whether I liked it or not, it was time to take care of business. Dressed in jeans, a plaid-like button-down shirt, and dress shoes, Raylo started toward Mama’s bedroom. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Do you got that handy?”
I knew he was referring to my Glock .23, so I raised my T-shirt so he could see it stuffed inside of my black Levis. A cap was on my head, as I tried to hide as much of myself as I could. Raylo rubbed his hands together, then left the room. He came back with his piece, tucking it behind him and ready to go. I followed him outside, and after he locked the door we made our way to his car.
“What in the fuck is that smell?” I said, wondering if it was his cologne.
“I don’t smell nothin’.”
“Whatever it is, it’s strong as hell. Make me want to throw the hell up.”
Raylo sniffed the air, then looked over at the neighbors. We saw smoke coming from behind some trees. “They over there barbecuin’. Smells pretty damn good to me.”
“Not to me. They should be shot for cookin’ meat that smells that bad.”
Raylo laughed and we got in his Cadillac and left. The ride to his so-called friend’s house was quiet, but I sparked up a conversation to get as much information as I could out of Raylo.
“Tell me somethin’, Raylo. Why were you and your friend followin’ me that day I was at the gas station? I know you saw me coming after y’all, but what was up with that?”
Raylo hesitated to answer, then he came clean. “Believe it or not, young blood, I’m uneasy right now. This thing with yo’ Mama got me on edge and I’ve been watchin’ my back and everybody else’s. While you think I may have been involved in her disappearance, at the time I wasn’t so sure about you. I had to keep my ears and eyes open, if you know what I mean.”
I pointed to my chest. “So, in other words, you’re sayin’ that you thought I had somethin’ to do with Mama disappearin’.”
“What I’m sayin’ is I trust no one. You be doin’ some fucked-up shit, Prince, and I don’t know if you comin’ or goin’ sometimes. Like I said, and no offense, but I must pay attention to my surroundings.”
“I get all of that, but why in the hell would I do somethin’ to my own mama? I ain’t never had no beef with her about nothin’ that severe where I would want to make her disappear. It’s fucked up that you thinkin’ like that and you’re damn right I’m offended.”
Raylo stopped at the red light, then reached over to touch my heaving chest. I was very upset ... about to renege on what we was about to do, because I wasn’t feeling what he was saying to me. “Calm down, all right? Truth is, I miss yo’ mama, Prince. It’s drivin’ me crazy because I can’t find her. I try not to let what I’m goin’ through show, but this shit is eatin’ me up. The way she left out ... upset with me and arguin’ and shit, don’t make me feel good. I don’t know where she could be right now and all I’m thinkin’ about is our last conversation. It wasn’t good. And whether you believe me or not, I’m a nigga with a heart too. I cared deeply for yo’ mama and it would crush me if somethin’ has happened to her and we went out the way we did.”
I started thinking about me and Mama’s last conversation too. It was cool, but she did ask me to bring her some things and I refused to do it. Of course, now I was regretting it. Maybe not as much as Raylo was and I was so sure that argument they had was pretty darn heated. “I guess I get what you’re saying, man, but the last thing I would do is hurt my mama. She’s pissed me the fuck off, plenty of times, but you were barkin’ up the wrong tree with me.”
“And just to let you know ... you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree with me. I’m with you on this. She pissed me the fuck off a lot too, but I ain’t never loved a woman as much as I love Shante. We like this,” he said, crossing his fingers tightly. “And ain’t nothin’ gon’ change that.”
I nodded and kept looking straight ahead. I wasn’t sure who or what to believe right now, but G had to get his money and then maybe that would shed some light on this fucked-up situation that was starting to drive me nuts.
Ernie lived in North County in a subdivision known as Hathaway Manor. With me being born and raised in North City, I rarely made my way to the county unless I had gone to one of the football games back in the day. It wasn’t as if the area was upscale or anything like that, and most of the county was now populated with blacks. Many of those who lived in the city made their way to North County, only because the houses were much bigger and retail business was booming. Years ago, Mama had talked about making a move to North County, but as I saw many just like me lurking around, I was glad she hadn’t.
Raylo pulled in front of a long, ranch-style house that looked to be well kept. We had already discussed how things would go down, so we both got out of the car, prepared to take care of business. After Raylo rang the doorbell, Ernie opened it with a smile, appearing to be glad to see his so-called friend.
“Why yo’ ass been hidin’ out?” Ernie asked Raylo and invited us in. “I haven’t seen you in like six months, nigga. I thought you had moved.”
“Nah,” Raylo said. “Just been keepin’ things on the low-low. I stopped all that sellin’ shit and decided to chill.” Raylo looked at me, and tapped my chest. “This here my li’l nigga from California. You remember Justine, don’t you?”
Ernie looked as if he was in thought and slowly shook his head. “Yeah, I remember Justine. Is this what came of that?”
“No doubt,” Raylo said. “This is my son, Clay. He hangin’ out with me today and I wanted to show him that all of my partners ain’t losers.” They both laughed and Ernie reached out to shake my hand. He had a tight-ass grip, and was a pretty big dude, too. Looked like a linebacker, and I wasn’t sure if I would be able to take him down.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, looking around at the okay house that had old-time furniture. For someone who had won the lottery, I sure as hell couldn’t tell. Raylo said he was cheap, but damn. “You got a nice place,” I lied. “Real nice.”
Ernie seemed proud, and started to show me and Raylo around. Raylo had been to his house before, so he told me to pay attention to certain things during our tour. He knew Ernie was going to showcase some sh
it and that he did. The liveliness of the house didn’t happen until we reached the finished basement. That’s where the money was spent. He had wide-screen TVs on the wall, leather chairs and a sofa, a glass bar with every kind of liquor you could think of behind it, and a walk-out sliding door that led to an Olympic-sized swimming pool in the backyard. Waterfall-rock landscaping was on each side and the shit was hooked up real nice. Another thing that his money had been spent on was his cars. The four-car garage that we walked to housed a Bentley, Cadillac, a ’65 Lincoln Continental, and a Lamborghini. The garage that was attached to his house had a motorcycle inside and a Lexus SUV that he drove every day.
Ernie went on and on about his good fortune, not having no idea as to what was about to happen. We went back inside, sitting in the leather chairs in the basement.
“Can I get y’all anything to drink?” he asked me and Raylo.
“Clay ain’t drinkin’ nothin’, but you can get me a shot of rum and Coke.”
Ernie went to the bar, making him and Raylo some drinks. When he came over to us, he handed Raylo his drink, then gave me a cooler. “To hell with what yo’ daddy says, I think you may want a li’l somethin’-somethin’ too.”
I smiled and thanked him for being kind. As he and Raylo started to talk, I watched a movie that was playing on the TV. I pretended to be all into it, but my mind was focused on making my next move. Nearly fifteen minutes had elapsed before I stood up and yawned.
“Ernie, do you have a bathroom down here?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s over there in that corner.” He pointed to it. “If there ain’t no soap on the sink to wash yo’ hands, look in one of those closets and you should be able to find some.”
“Thanks,” I said, making my way to the bathroom. This was how Raylo and I had planned it. As soon as I returned, I was supposed to make my move. A huge part of me was nervous, though. I hadn’t done no shit like this in months and Ernie was someone I never had no beef with. He seemed like a really nice man who didn’t deserve what was about to happen to him. Still, I realized that I needed to hurry up and get this the fuck over with so Mama could get back and this mess could be behind us.