Insanity

by Omar Tyree

  Queen stared at him with no response.

  “Well . . .” he pressed her back.

  “You got it right,” she agreed.

  At that point, Bryant didn’t know what else to say or do.

  Shit! This IS a set up, he concluded. Then he shrugged.

  “Well, we have to see at the doctor’s office tomorrow anyway.”

  There was no sense in working himself up further.

  But Queen continued to stand there at the door.

  “So, you want me to leave or stay?” she asked him.

  Bryant thought about it and reached out to pull her three-quarter length coat from her shoulders.

  “Come on, girl, it’s freezing out there tonight.” He grabbed an empty hanger to slip her coat back into the closet. “You’re about to be a mother now,” he hinted.

  Or maybe not, he told himself. He was still confused by it all.

  Queen didn’t pay his slip of tongue any mind. “We’ll see.” Then she looked back into his living room. “So, you want me to sleep on the couch and leave in the morning so you can be alone tonight?” She hadn’t forgotten what he had said. And too many decisions were causing plenty of conflictions for the young man.

  Bryant rubbed his temples with his fingers, still thinking about everything.

  “Ummm . . . how ’bout you sleep in the bedroom and I sleep on the couch?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “Are you saying that you’ll do everything I tell you to do?”

  Queen paused. “It depends on what it is.”

  Bryant nodded. “Yeah, okay.” That’s just more game, he thought. She’s trying to stay on my good side to have a baby and get married.

  “All right, well, I do need some time to myself tonight. So I’ll just stay out here then.”

  Queen looked and nodded back. “Okay.” And she headed to his bedroom alone.

  FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

  Bryant remained out on the sofa watching late night talk shows while thinking:

  My parents already like her. Garrett and Gwendolyn are comfortable with her. I know all of her bad habits already, like how she can’t cook. But she can work on that. I even know the skeletons in her closet.

  She looks good. She smells good. She knows how to dress. She knows how to fuck. She’s in great shape. She’s smart, and goes after what she wants. She’s low maintenance and no drama. She’s not a pushover, but she knows when to back down. I mean . . . shit! What else could a man ask for?

  He even thought about drinking a brew to her.

  “Hell, let me go grab one,” he told himself and made his way into the kitchen. He opened his refrigerator and grabbed a cold Heineken from the side door. He had two left. He popped it open and started to drink on his way back to his spot in front of the television. Before he was finished drinking it, his dick got hard with lustful meditations.

  Hell, if she’s gonna have an abortion if I ask her to anyway, then what the fuck. I should go in there, raw dog, and bomb her out then, he mused. If a little drip can get her pregnant, then let her feel the full damn blast.

  By the time he finished his drink and laughing at David Letterman, he had made up his mind to crash his bedroom. He clicked off the TV with the remote, then the night lamp, and made his way through the dark hallway to the back.

  Queen was knocked out and under the covers when he walked into the room. He stood over of her at the bed for a minute and studied her as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

  The woman even slept with poise, nice and quiet with her mouth closed.

  Bryant nodded and was satisfied with his decision to drop a full bomb on her. He stripped butt naked and found himself leaking with excitement as he climbed into bed and under the covers.

  Queen was in her usual nighttime gear with of a t-shirt and panties for easy pickings. Bryant went right after her, pulling her panties off of smooth hips and shapely legs. He then slid his curly head under the covers to wet her up her treasure with his tongue.

  Awakened by his lustful moves, Queen spread her legs to allow the pleasure. But just when she got into it, Bryant was done with his tongue action. He was more interested in exploding all up in her system, so he entered her raw, like he had gotten accustomed to doing. Only this time, he didn’t plan to pull out.

  “So you wanna be a mother, hunh?” he asked as he began his stroke her.

  Queen winced at his breath.

  “Were you drinking?”

  “I only had a Heineken.”

  She turned her head to her right to avoid it, only for Bryant to kiss and suck on her neck.

  “You wanna be a mother now, right?” he repeated.

  She continued to ignore his question until he jammed her harder.

  “Hunh?” he pressed her with a violence thrust of his pelvis.

  “Mmmph,” Queen moaned, feeling it.

  “You want me to cum all in you?”

  The thought of reckless abandonment made Bryant feel voracious as he pounded into her.

  “Yesss,” Queen squealed and held him tightly.

  Her full acceptance and submission of his raw skeet made him more excited to release it to her. The man couldn’t wait as he jammed her harder and faster, anticipating the sweetest explosion.

  “You want me to be a daddy now, hunh?”

  “Yeaaahh.”

  “You wanna feel this nut?”

  “Yes, daddy, yesss.”

  “Well, I’ma give it to you. Right now!” Bryant howled into her face.

  “Give it to me. Give it to meee,” Queen begged him.

  “Oh, you’re gonna get it. It’s coming. It’s coming!”

  She moaned, “Let it cum. Let it cummm, bay-beee.”

  Bryant’s ass cheeks tightened up and locked into a tremendous muscle spasm as his hot semen squirted into Queen’s pulsating and receptive body.

  “Ooooh yeeeah!” Bryant moaned back, releasing it all to her.

  Queen wrapped herself around him, clamping down like a Venus Flytrap, and took in his full seed, loving it.

  She kissed his lips, even with his alcohol-tainted breath, and made him a promise.

  “You can do this every night, baby. You can cum how you want to.”

  Bryant listened to her promise and was sprung.

  “You mean that?”

  Queen chuckled with her body vibrating into his. “You got me pregnant,” she told him. “This is your pussy now. You own it. Just don’t crash it and fuck it up,” she teased him.

  Bryant chuckled back to her, with the heavier body.

  “I’m gonna remember you said that,” he repeated from her summertime warning.

  Queen continued to grin, remembering it. She said “I just wanna be a success in everything that I choose to do; a mother, a wife, a businesswoman . . . everything. But if you don’t wanna be a part of it, then . . .”

  She let her words trail off.

  Bryant told her, “Stop talking like that. If you wanna be successful then think that way. No more negative thoughts or comments. You gotta speak it into existence what you want.”

  “Well, I want you,” she stated.

  “And you’re still here, aren’t you?”

  She smiled at him. “Yes.”

  “Well, all right then. I haven’t gone anywhere. I’m right here inside of you.”

  “Yes you are,” she told him, as she rubbed his naked back and held him there in peace.

  FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

  Back on campus at Towson State, Queen hurried into the parking lot. She was right on time to meet up with Bryant at her OB/GYN’s office to confirm the pregnancy. But Dr. Kelvin Blake hurried out of the sociology building behind her, stopping her flow as she reached her car.

  “Queen, I need to speak to you if you have a moment. It’s about your last few assignments.”

  He was dressed to impress as usual in a beige trench coat and dark brown Fedora hat. In the Baltimore cold, he looked like a well-dressed, big city detective.

&nb
sp; Queen paused to consider the time. “Can I call you about it or see you when I get back to campus? I have a appointment to make right now.”

  “I’m leaving campus in the next hour myself,” he informed her. “That’s why I wanted to catch you now. You only have a week left before I put these grades in before the Christmas break. And when I’m gone, I’m going to Africa, so there won’t be any contacting me to change any last-minute grades.”

  He was putting all of the cards on the table for her. But Queen continued to procrastinate instead of deal in a timely manner with her below standard assignments. Dr. Blake wanted her to redo several papers he felt she had rushed. It was the only way to maintain a solid B in the course, but the young woman kept coming up with different excuses. Now she was running out of time.

  “Ummm . . . damn,” she complained. “This is just . . .”

  Dr. Blake cut her off. “You seem to be really distracted these last couple of months. Is something going on that you need to share? I mean, I’m understandable.”

  Queen continued to deliberate on her time. It was approaching quarter to noon, and it would take her at least twenty-five minutes to get where she needed to go.

  Nevertheless, she exhaled and prepared herself to tell a long, sad story.

  “My mom has been going through chemotherapy for cancer, so lately, I’ve been running around doing a lot of extra things for her. And I just can’t . . .” she stopped and looked frustrated. “. . . concentrate on a lot of things right now. And I know I want to do well. I mean, I deserve it, but . . .”

  Dr. Blake had heard enough. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he told her. He stopped to consider her final grades. It wasn’t as if he was giving her an A, and a B grade was doable with a deal.

  “You know, give me a call tonight and I’ll see what I can do. But you need to call me,” he pressed her.

  “Thank you,” she told him, slipping quickly into her car and tossing her bag of books into the passenger seat.

  She had lost another five minutes in their conversation.

  “Shit. Now I’m running late.”

  She peeled out of the school entrance in her Nissan and headed for Interstate 695, burning rubber. As soon as she got on the highway good, doing eighty, a Maryland state trooper flashed his lights and blared his siren behind her.

  WWHHRRRPPP! WWHHRRRPPP!

  Queen looked into her rearview mirror and snapped again.

  “Shit! This is just not my damn day.”

  After pulling her car over to the side of the road, she began to gather her license and registration before the trooper even climbed out of his car. She already knew the drill. Always in a rush to get somewhere, she had been pulled over for speeding plenty of times.

  When the towering black officer reached her driver-side window in his beige uniform, brown trooper jacket, and a long brim hat, Queen was finishing a fake phone call to establish another long story.

  “Okay, Mom, I’m on my way.”

  The officer overheard it and looked into her frantic face as she began to explain her driving.

  “Oh my God, my little sister just collapsed in school today from an overdose of sleeping pills, and my mom wanted me to meet her at the hospital. So, I just left my classes at Towson State to get down there, and I didn’t know how fast I was going.”

  She handed the officer everything, included her college identification card.

  She said, “I’m just nervous right now. This is the second time she’s done this.”

  She had the overexcitement, the rapid speech, and the crazy body movements of deliria, as she sunk her hands into her face and pushed for tears.

  The officer calmly thumbed through her information and didn’t budge.

  “Where does your sister go to school?” he asked her.

  “Baltimore Township.”

  The officer nodded. “What hospital is she in?”

  “Good Samaritan.”

  He nodded again, moving as slowly as molasses. The man was not in a hurry. But he could clearly see that she was. Nevertheless, she didn’t appear to be a suspect that he needed to concern himself about. Otherwise, he would have run her information.

  He said, “I’m gonna let you go with a warning this time, but driving recklessly is not gonna get you to that hospital any faster. In fact, your speeding may cause your mother another reason to be at the hospital.”

  Queen cut him off and said, “I understand. Thank you.”

  The officer looked into her car and spotted her bag of books in the passenger seat.

  “What are you studying at Towson?”

  “I’m attending grad school for social work. I graduated with a degree in sociology there two years ago.”

  The officer nodded and was satisfied with his decision to let her go.

  He handed back her information. “Sixty-five is the legal speed limit, and you’ll get there safely with plenty of time. Okay?”

  “Yes sir,” she told him. “Thank you.”

  As soon as the officer walked away to return to his car, Queen looked at her clock on the dashboard and shrugged.

  “Fuck it. I’ll get there when I get there now.”

  It was two minutes to twelve and pointless to rush. She would be good and late for her appointment.

  FFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

  “So, how late are you talking about?” Bryant asked her over his cell phone. He was already there at the doctor’s office waiting out in the lobby with health, childcare, fitness and family magazines spread out around the room. The reception area, a thick wooden door, and a wall separated the lobby from the patient rooms in the back.

  “Another good twenty minutes, I guess,” Queen told him.

  Bryant shook his head and looked down at his watch. It was already a quarter after noon. He planned to be out of there and back on his way to school before one. But if she didn’t arrive until twelve thirty, he doubted it.

  “All right, I’ll just see you when you get here then.”

  He sat back and picked up a copy of Ebony magazine, one of the few black magazines in the room. Denzel Washington was on the cover with an article discussing the importance of family.

  Bryant flipped it open and began to read it.

  “Are you expecting?” the receptionist asked him with a smile. She was a young white woman with dark hair, olive skin and model features in a white lab coat. She looked in his age range and was attractive enough to date.

  Bryant had dated a few white girls before, starting back in his high school days. But he had a steady woman now; a black woman, who she was possibly pregnant. So he hesitated before he answered, feeling subconscious about everything. The pretty white receptionist made it worse for him. There he was, another unmarried black man awaiting the results of a possibly pregnant black woman. So he felt guilty about it. How was an uncertain man supposed to act at a doctor’s office anyway?

  “Aaahh . . . I guess we’ll find out,” he stammered. He wished she had never asked him.

  The receptionist smiled and held back a chuckle.

  “How about you?” he asked her back. “Are you expecting any time soon?” If she could put him on the spot, then he wanted to return the favor.

  “Oh no, not me. I’m still in med school.”

  “Well, how do you stop it from happening? No man?”

  She smiled and laughed at it. But then she answered his question seriously and bit sarcastic. “Ahhh protection, birth control, abstinence . . .”

  That didn’t make Bryant feel any better. She was basically calling him an irresponsible man. So he asked her, “Which one do you use?” The question just jumped out of his mouth.

  Shit, if she wants to judge me, then I can judge her right back, he thought.

  All of a sudden, the receptionist wasn’t as talkative or curious. She was embarrassed with nothing left to say to him. And she was overjoyed when the phone rang to interrupt them.

  “The doctor’s office,” she answered.

  Bryant chuckled to hi
mself. White women, he thought. They’re always playing coy.

  When Queen finally arrived, Bryant had read the whole Denzel family article and had a newfound respect for the man. Denzel wasn’t perfect, but he surely understood what was important in life, and it wasn’t chasing after every young starlet who played in a movie with him, while forsaking his kids and family. So he remained married despite the rumors.

  Yeah, that was a good article, Bryant told himself.

  “I’m sorry for the wait, baby,” Queen addressed him, taking off her coat as she entered the room. She snapped him right out of his thoughts, looking and smelling good.

  He stood up with her and dropped the magazine into the chair.

  “Yeah, well let’s do it.”

  He had no time to spare. It was twelve thirty-five already. His next class was at 1:10.

  Queen stepped to the receptionist booth.

  “I’m late for my noon appointment with Dr. Sinclair.”

  The receptionist checked the schedules on a computer screen. “Well, you’re in luck, her next appointment’s not until one. I’ll call her.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Hey Cara, Queen Tillis is here . . . Okay, I’ll send her back.”

  Bryant followed Queen through the hallway and into an open room to the left.

  “Close the door,” she told him.

  For a second, he felt like a little boy in a grown-up world of doctors and pregnancies. He closed the door behind him and asked, “So, you actually want me in the room with you?” He began to look around, feeling queasy about it. It was too close for comfort. He figured he would be asked to wait out in the lobby with the receptionist.

  Queen grinned at him. “No, silly, I’m gonna go into another room. This is just a consultation area.” She sat down on the small medical bed inside the room and began to undo her clothes.

  “Well, what are you doing now then?” Bryant asked her nervously. He had never been in a doctor’s room with a woman outside of his mother. And that had been years ago in middle school.

  “I leave my clothes in here first,” Queen explained. It was no big deal to her and a normal appointment procedure.

  Bryant said, “And you walk through the hallway with no clothes on?”