“Oh shit, it is,” Puddin’ said. “I thought that shit went out in the seventies. And looky-looky, the muthafucka got a woodie.”
“How the hell can you see that from here?” Regina said as she tugged on Puddin’s arm. “Come on, let’s cross the street. He’s heading this way.”
“Naw, I wanna see.” Puddin’ held her ground and squinted her eyes for a better look.
“Well, you can stand there and see if you want, I’m heading across.” Regina pulled her pocketbook farther up her shoulder and prepared to step out into the street.
“Oh shit. Oh fucking shit,” Puddin’ all but shouted as she pulled Regina back toward her. “Gina, tell me that’s not who I think it is.”
“I don’t give a shit who it is,” Regina said, trying to pull free. “I’m not going to—”
“Gina, maybe I’m blind, but ain’t that Yvonne’s boyfriend?”
“What?” Regina looked up at the man running toward them full speed. She couldn’t be sure, but it did look like Robert with his hair standing on end, a wild look in his eyes, and sure enough, just as Puddin’ said, a full erection. “Oh my God. Get the fuck outta here. I do believe that’s him. Puddin’, let’s get the hell outta here.”
Regina tried again to cross the street, but Robert barreled into her before she could make her escape.
“Regina, Regina,” he shouted as he grabbed her in a bear hug. “I love you. Let’s make a baby.”
“Get the hell off of me,” Regina said, struggling to break free. She looked to Puddin’ for help, but her friend was leaning on a building, convulsed with laughter.
“Will you please let me go?” Regina screamed as Robert tried to kiss her on the mouth.
She was so engrossed in trying to get away that she didn’t even notice the police car that pulled in front of them until the two officers jumped out, pulled Robert by the scruff of his neck, and threw him across the car.
“Are you okay, miss?” one of the officers asked her as the other pulled out his handcuffs.
Regina was tempted to tell them that she wasn’t and let them arrest Robert’s ass, but then she thought about Yvonne. Her friend would never forgive her if she just let them haul Robert off to jail.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she said, looking over at Puddin’, who was still doubled over with laughter. “Look, please don’t arrest him. This is, uh, my, uh, cousin. He’s a little disoriented because of some medicine he’s taken. I’m taking him home right now.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s good old cousin Robert,” Puddin’ managed to get out through bouts of laughter. “He just took too much of his antidepressant.”
“Well, are you sure?” The officer looked at Regina skeptically.
“Oh yes, believe me. In fact, he’s actually an assistant D.A. in the Bronx. I mean, obviously, he doesn’t have any ID on him at the moment. But like I said, it’s the medicine, and we’re going to get him home and calm him down.”
“Well,” the officer said as he let Robert up from the car, “why don’t we just give you all a lift home, then?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Regina assured them. “We’re just a couple of buildings down. We’ll make it okay. Won’t we, Robert?” She turned to him and had to cover her eyes with her hand. In just the few seconds that he had been let free, Robert had run over to a large tree and was kissing and humping it as if he were in bed with a wild woman.
“Leave me alone. I’m going to make a baby with Mother Nature. We’re going to start a whole new human race,” he shouted as the police pried him away.
Puddin’ had actually collapsed on the sidewalk with laughter. “Oh shit,” she managed to get out. “He’s going to get splinters in that big dick.”
“Fuck it,” Regina said, throwing up her hands. “What precinct are you guys taking him to? I’ll let his girlfriend know, and she can handle it.”
“Look, I did what I could,” Regina tried to explain to Yvonne, who was seated on the couch seemingly in shock. “They almost let him go—”
“But the bitch started trying to fuck a tree,” Puddin’ said, shrieking with laughter again. “Talking about he was going to make a baby with Mother Nature.”
“Puddin’, you watch you damn mouth in dis house,” Mama Tee said in her thick Trinidadian accent.
“Sorry, Mama Tee, but if you had been there . . .”
“I still would not be using no such language,” Mama Tee huffed.
“Mama, please.” Yvonne waved her hand wearily.
“Don’t you ‘Mama, please’ me, you hear me, girl?” Mama Tee raved. “I told you dat man be no damn good. Be smoking that ganja stuff in de bathroom like nobody know what he be doing.”
Puddin’ snorted and took a seat on the couch next to Yvonne. “Mama Tee, that ain’t no reefer that man be smoking. Reefer don’t make you act like that. I’m telling you he was downright dusty.”
“Say he be what?” Mama Tee asked suspiciously.
“He’s smoking angel dust,” Puddin’ said, ignoring the elbow jab Yvonne gave her. “It’s an elephant tranquilizer or something, isn’t it, Regina?”
“Um, something like that,” Regina said helplessly.
“Oh me Lawd.” Mama Tee threw up her hands. “De man be smoking elephant tranquilize in me daughter’s bathroom with me grandson right here in de house. Oh me sweet Lawd.”
“Mama, Robert doesn’t do that,” Yvonne said as she gave Puddin’ a dirty look. “He’s just not been feeling well lately.”
“Yeah, well, he looked like he was feeling pretty good tonight.” Puddin’ chuckled.
“Shut up, Puddin’,” Yvonne snapped.
“You shut up,” Puddin’ retorted. “I’m not the one with a man running down the street humping everything in sight.”
“Oh me Lawd.” Mama Tee shook her head. “Johnny, get you coat, man. You come stay with you nana tonight.”
Yvonne walked her mother and son to the door, then whirled around to face Puddin’. “You know you make me sick, Puddin’. Why’d you have to say all that stuff in front of my mother?”
“Yeah, well, you make me sicker. Bringing that dusty muthafucka around your kid. Do you know how crazy people using angel dust can get? Remember that time we was going to some party in the Bronx, and Ralphie decided we were stupid for walking down the steps from the elevated train because he could just take one step and beat us down? He stepped off the platform and broke both his legs. Stupid bastard coulda killed himself. He was smoking dust that night, you know.”
“Not to mention how violent people on dust can get.” Regina sat down on the love seat, took off her shoes, and rubbed her feet. “Don’t you remember when we were teenagers hearing about that kid on 119th Street who killed his mother, then wrote on the wall in her blood ‘I love my mother’?”
Puddin nodded. “Yeah, Fat Freddy. I remember him. He was a sweet kid until he started smoking that shit.”
“Look,” Yvonne said with a snarl. “Neither of you have any place to talk about who I have in my life. Puddin’, you’re the biggest coke fiend in Harlem. And you, Regina, you’re fucking the biggest dope dealer in the city.”
“I may be a coke fiend, but I don’t have any children that I’m putting in jeopardy,” Puddin’ said with a wave of her hand.
“And first off, I don’t bring Little Joe anywhere near my daughter,” Regina joined in, “and second, he was the biggest dealer in the city. He’s retired now, and you know it. He’s living off his investments.”
“Investments made from selling dope,” Yvonne retorted.
Regina looked at her friend warily. “Yeah, that’s right, investments from selling dope. But be that as it may, he’s not selling dope now, and he’s certainly not using anything. Especially not something like angel dust, which can make someone violent enough to kill. Dust is the only drug I know that can make a mofo do some shit like that.” Regina put her hand on her hip. “And I agree with Puddin’, it’s fucked-up that you let Robert around Johnny whe
n he’s fucking with that shit.”
“Well, Robert’s not violent,” Yvonne said defensively. “And he musta just had a relapse. This is the first time he’s smoked any dust since he’s been in New York.”
“Oh please.” Puddin’ sucked her teeth. “Regina told me he got dusty a few days ago when you guys were in the restaurant.”
“No, he didn’t,” Yvonne snapped.
“Oh, so hold up, you knew he was smoking dust when he was in Philly, and you still let him move in here?” Regina said incredulously.
“He admitted he had smoked it a few times,” Yvonne said reluctantly. “But he told me he quit, and I believe him.”
“’Cause you wanted to believe him,” Puddin’ said with a snort. “And after I saw how big his dick is, I can see why. That boy is packing.”
Yvonne glared at Puddin’, then at Regina. “It has nothing to do with a big dick, okay? And I’d appreciate it if you two would stop ganging up on me in my own house.”
“Ain’t nobody trying to gang up on your ass.” Puddin’ waved her hand dismissively. “We’re your friends, so we just ain’t gonna stand by and let you pull some stupid shit without saying anything.”
“What I don’t understand is how the hell in this day and age would someone start smoking dust,” Regina said. “I mean, Robert? When we first met him, he was barely a social drinker. How the hell did he start on dust?”
“Yeah, I thought that shit played out in the seventies,” Puddin’ added. She stood up. “Yvonne, what you got to drink?”
“It was after we broke up and I left Philly,” Yvonne answered Regina and ignored Puddin’. “He was on the rebound and started messing with some girl from West Philly who got him hooked.”
“Oh yeah, so I guess it’s your fault for leaving his married ass, huh?” Puddin’ said as she walked to the kitchen.
“I didn’t say that,” Yvonne yelled after her.
“Yeah, if that’s the way he put it, then that’s what he wanted to make you feel,” Regina said angrily. “So you should feel guilty about his habit.”
“He doesn’t have a habit,” Yvonne protested. “I’m telling you this is the first time he’s used it since he’s moved in here.”
“You’re in fucking denial,” Puddin’ said as she emerged from the kitchen holding a bottle of wine and a glass.
“I have to agree with Puddin’,” Regina said with a shrug. “And if you’re not smart enough to throw his ass out on general principle, you should at least consider it because of Johnny. He doesn’t need to be around this shit. I’m glad Camille had a cold and had to stay home with Ray-Ray, or they would have witnessed him trying to make a baby with a damn tree.”
“Well, I guess I’d better go try and get him out of jail.” Yvonne sighed and got up from the couch.
“Sit your ass back down.” Puddin’ pulled her back down to the couch. “Chances are they took him to Bellevue Hospital to sleep that shit off. They’re not going to release him today. Worry about that shit tomorrow.”
“Yeah, she’s right.” Regina nodded. “You need to sit here and try to figure out your life. Do you really need him in here putting you and Johnny in jeopardy?”
“Yeah, I mean he’s got a big dick,” Puddin’ said, giggling, “but I’m sure if you try hard enough, you can find bigger.”
“You are so fucking crass.” Yvonne shot Puddin’ a dirty look. “We’re not together because of the sex. We happen to be in love.”
“You love his dick, and he loves his dust,” Puddin’ said as she took a sip of the wine. “Sounds like a relationship made in heaven.”
Regina stood up. “Slow down on that wine, Puddin’. I think I need a drink myself.”
chapter thirteen
That’s some crazy shit,” Little Joe said as he and Regina sat in Amy Ruth’s Restaurant having Sunday brunch. “You would think people woulda learned their lesson from all those people dying from dust back in the seventies and not be fucking with that shit now.”
Regina shrugged and took a forkful of her home fries. “All I know is Yvonne is out her damn mind. I just hope she wises up before she gets hurt.”
Little Joe nodded. “I’m just saying that angel dust is fucked-up. I never understood why people fucked with that shit. You couldn’t pay me to try it.”
“You mean there’s a drug you actually haven’t tried?” Regina teased.
“Shit, there’s a lot of drugs I ain’t tried,” Little Joe said, and took a gulp of his mimosa. “I was hooked on junk for almost eight years, and I had to OD and almost die before I got off that shit.”
“You were hooked on heroin?” Regina said. “I didn’t know that.”
“It was a long time before I knew you. I started using the shit when I was like twelve. Kicked it when I was like twenty. Natty was hooked, too, and we went cold turkey together. I ain’t used no drugs since then. Except you know I like to get my drink on,” he said, holding his mimosa up as if in salute.
Wow, Regina thought. A former junkie who made a fortune selling junk. That was unusual. Most former addicts did their best to stay away from the shit because the temptation was too great. Another tribute to Little Joe’s self-control.
“I ever told you I tried heroin once?” she asked suddenly.
“Get the fuck outta here.” Little Joe almost spilled his drink.
“Yeah, I was about seventeen, and someone had some, so I decided to try it. I didn’t shoot up, though. I just snorted it.”
“And did you like it?”
“Liked it way too much.” Regina shook her head. “Liked it enough to know I shouldn’t ever try it again. And anyway, it made me throw up.”
“Yeah, it does that to a lot of people the first time. Heroin’s a muscle relaxant, you know.” Little Joe stared at her intently. “I’m glad you made the right decision, though. It woulda killed me to come out and find you were strung out on smack.”
“No, I like myself way too much for that,” Regina said simply.
“And I like you way too much myself. I woulda had to come out and kick your ass and then dragged that same pretty ass into detox.”
“Aw, don’t you say the sweetest things?” Regina smiled as she cut into her sausage. She and Little Joe had been seeing each other for weeks now, though not on a daily basis. More like two or three times a week, but that seemed enough for both of them. She hadn’t let Little Joe stay over since that first night, but she’d been back to his big beautiful apartment at Graham Court with its high ceilings and glittering chandeliers a number of times.
He treated her like a queen, or as much as Little Joe knew how to treat someone like a queen. He wasn’t the type to pull out chairs or open car doors, but he showered her with affection and made her feel like she was the only woman in the world. She wasn’t sure that she was the only woman he was seeing, which was one reason she still insisted that he use condoms, but she had seen no evidence of another woman. It was her robe that hung in his walk-in closet. Her perfume and toiletries in his bathroom. Her picture on his dresser. If he was faking it, he was faking it well. And she was sure as hell enjoying it. The Broadway plays. The trips to Atlantic City. The sweet yet ferocious lovemaking.
“So have you been thinking about that weekend trip to the Bahamas?” Little Joe asked as if he were reading her mind. “We can leave on Friday and be back by Monday morning. Or even Sunday night, if you insist.”
“I don’t know—,” Regina started, but then abruptly stopped. Was that Charles sitting across the room looking at her? It was, she realized. He was at a table not twelve feet away, with a bunch of fat cats in business suits who were laughing it up over something, but Charles seemed oblivious to them as he stared at her. Her own stare made Little Joe turn around to follow her gaze.
“You know him?” Little Joe asked. “Oh, don’t tell me. That’s the honorable Charles Whitfield, isn’t it? Is that why you wanted to come here? To run into him?”
“No,” Regina said hurriedly. “I didn’t eve
n know he was in town. And I didn’t know he even knew about Amy Ruth’s.”
“Well, it certainly looks like he’s in town, doesn’t it?” Little Joe turned around to face her. “You wanna leave?”
“Yeah, maybe we should,” Regina said, wiping her mouth with her napkin before dropping it on the table and gathering up her pocketbook. “I don’t think he’s going to say anything to us, but I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. It might be kinda hard on him—”
“Hey, Regina, how are you doing? Good to see you.”
Regina looked up to see a smile on Charles’s lips that somehow didn’t reach his eyes.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said with a calmness she didn’t feel. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I just flew in this morning. I was going to give you and Camille a call after I was through with brunch. By the way”—Charles crossed his arms—“where is Camille?”
“Ray-Ray took her to the zoo.” Regina shifted in her chair.
“What time will they be back? I’d like to spend some time with my daughter before I fly back to Washington tonight,” Charles said, tapping his foot.
“Oh, is Congress in session?” Little Joe asked casually, then took a sip of his drink.
“Actually, no,” Charles said, turning his attention, though not his body, toward Little Joe. “But I have a couple of bills that will be coming up when it does go in session, and I need to get a head start. And you are?”
“Joseph Blayton.” Little Joe extended his hand, which Charles shook tersely. “Good to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine, I’m sure,” Charles said with sarcasm dripping from his voice.
Little Joe rose slowly from the table. “Well, I need a quick trip to the men’s room. I’ll be back shortly, Regina. Good meeting you, Congressman.”
“Well,” Regina said after Little Joe departed, “what brings you on a one-day trip to New York?” She tried to keep her voice light, but her stomach was doing flip-flops.
“Just schmoozing some of the local politicos about that possible senatorial bid,” Charles answered. “And what a surprise running into you. Having a nice brunch with your latest, I suppose?”
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