Afterburn: a novel

by Zane

  “Very cute, Rayne. You know good and damn well that I’m dating Truck.”

  “Humph, oh yeah, Truck.” I held the door open while I placed my briefcase on the table in my foyer. “Come on in.”

  Truck and my mother had this on-again, off-again thing going that was sickening at best. They’d be together for a few months and then she’d go out on a “whore binge” as she called it. They called him Truck because of his massive size. He had to be at least six-eight and weighed at least four hundred pounds, which made him about three of Momma. Personally, I couldn’t understand how she could have sex with him. The thought of him laying on top of her, pounding his dick into her, was mind-boggling, and her riding on top of him wasn’t a pretty picture either. Yet, they’d found something special in one another. Who was I to judge them? I was simply glad to be the hell away from them, in another state.

  “So where’s Truck tonight, Momma?”

  She smacked her lips at me. “In his skin.” She pointed to the hallway. “Aren’t you going to bring my bags in?”

  I went back out in the hall and froze. I’d been so shocked to see her that I hadn’t even noticed the three suitcases sitting beside her. “Momma, what’s with all the luggage?” I asked as I struggled to bring the heaviest one in first.

  “Don’t have a baby. I’m not staying long. A woman like me can never decide what to wear so I have to bring a lot of shit, so I can look good at all times. You know how I roll.”

  “Whatever you say,” I replied as I carried the last one in and tossed it in the corner with the other two. “How long are you going to be here?”

  “Oh, who knows? A week or two, or maybe three.”

  “I see,” I said, beginning to feel heated. “Will Truck be able to live without you for that long?”

  “Shit, he’s had to do it before.” She plopped down on my sofa. “Besides, I haven’t seen my baby in a while. I decided that I needed to come check on you.”

  I sat down in the armchair and glared on her. “Check on me? Since when has that been a priority for you?”

  “I call you all the time, baby.”

  “Only when you want money,” I stated with disdain. “When you call, you rarely even ask me about my life. You talk about yours, and yours only, and then ask for money.”

  You could’ve cut the tension in the room with a knife. For a few moments, we stared at each other. I could tell that she wanted to curse me out, but realized doing that would defeat her ultimate purpose. It had to be about finances; it always was.

  “It suddenly dawned on me,” I said, breaking the silence. “How can you take off work for three weeks? You do still have a job, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I have a damn job!” She shifted in her seat. “A shitty ass job but I have one.”

  “Are you still working at the drugstore?”

  “Yes, night shift. Sick fuckers.”

  “What sick fuckers?” I asked in curiosity.

  “Rayne, you wouldn’t believe the sadistic shit that goes on in there all night. Can you believe that we had to start keeping the Preparation H behind the counter?”

  “That’s ridiculous! Why would you have to do that?”

  “Thieves! Druggies!”

  “Okay, I’ll bite, Momma.” What she was saying made no sense. I’d heard of people stealing cigarettes but Preparation H? “Why do people steal it?”

  “Drug addicts use it to rub inside their noses so they can continue to snort shit. Then they steal a ton of lotion also, to rub on the tracks on their arms.”

  “Okay, I guess that I understand.”

  “And check this out,” Momma said, moving up to the edge of the sofa in excitement. “Some of the bastards are bold as shit. They’ll come in, head for the paper goods aisle, open up boxes of aluminum foil, use some to smoke crack and then leave their trash back there. Nasty asses.”

  “Hmm, I’m not too sure about you working there,” I said with genuine concern. “That doesn’t sound too safe; for you to be in there at night. Can you at least switch to the day shift?”

  “I’m not trying to work there period. I hope they do fire my ass before I get back. Let someone else deal with those addicts. I’m above all that.”

  While I knew it was going to be a low blow—a very low blow—I couldn’t resist. “But aren’t you still addicted to alcohol?”

  I saw her ball her left hand into a fist and figured she didn’t even have the nerve to come at me with it. She’d punched me quite a few times when I was a child but once I’d turned into a woman and headed off to college, I’d set her straight. The night that I was packing for school, she came into my room in a drunken stupor and started going off about how I was deserting her. I attempted to explain to her that it wasn’t a matter of desertion but simply me trying to move on with my life. Although, truth be told, I couldn’t wait to escape the nonsense.

  The argument had escalated until she’d tried to punch me in my face. I grabbed her fist and flung her backwards, halfway across the room. “Momma,” I’d said. “The days of you laying your hands on me are over. Don’t ever try to hit me again, or I will hit you back.”

  Those words must’ve been resonating through her head at the same time they were echoing through mine because she relaxed her hand.

  “Rayne, why must you insist on hurting my feelings?” she asked in her most pitiful sounding voice. “I know that I like the liquor, dammit! But that’s a far cry from doing crack and heroin.”

  On one hand, I agreed with her. On the other hand, an addiction was an addiction. I decided not to comment further. I knew that before her visit was done, she’d prove my point for me without me having to utter another word.

  Sure enough, before I knew it, she was pulling a bottle of vodka out of her suitcase and getting the ball rolling.

  Twenty-three

  Yardley

  I got to Rayne’s apartment at nine o’clock on the dot that night. I was feeling good about the activities that I’d planned for us and couldn’t wait to see what she was wearing.

  When she answered the door, the first thing I noticed her wearing was a gigantic frown. “What’s the matter?” I instinctively asked.

  She shook her head and folded her arms in front of her. “I’m so sorry about this, Yardley.”

  I was completely puzzled. “Sorry about what? Are you okay?”

  Suddenly, a hand appeared over her right shoulder and pushed her to the side. A woman who had to be Rayne’s mother stood there, eyeing me up and down like she was deciding whether or not she wanted to be in my presence.

  “This.” Rayne nodded toward her mother. “I’m sorry about this.”

  I cleared my throat and said, “Hello. How are you?”

  Her mother wriggled her mouth around like she was trying to find her tongue and bellowed out, “How the fuck are you?”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” I held out my hand. “I’m Yardley Brown. You must be Rayne’s mother.”

  “Fuckin’-A, I am.” She glared at my hand and refused to reach for it. Instead, she turned around and headed deeper into Rayne’s place. “So you’re the latest panty sniffer, huh?”

  Rayne had told me very little about her mother; like she was ashamed of her. Now it was obvious that her mother had a drinking problem; evidenced by the bottle of vodka she picked up from the coffee table and started guzzling down.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, not quite believing that she’d actually asked me if I was a panty sniffer.

  “Panty sniffer!” she repeated, shouting it louder this time. “Pussy hound! Cat chaser!”

  Rayne took a deep sigh, livid from her mother’s comment. “Momma, go sit down!”

  “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I’m Arjay Waters, the heifer that birthed you! You go sit your ass down!”

  Rayne took my hand and guided me over to her dining room area. “Yardley, I’m so sorry. I’m not going to be able to keep our date tonight.” Rayne looked like she was close to tears. “I wasn’t exp
ecting Momma. She simply popped up.” She moved closer to me and whispered, “More like touched ground like a tornado.”

  I embraced her tightly. “It’s no problem. I understand.”

  “Do you really?” She leaned back from me so she could see my eyes.

  While I didn’t really understand, being that Rayne was a grown woman and her mother had decided to barge in without notice, I still lied. “Sure, I’m disappointed. But I understand, Rayne.”

  She kissed me on the cheek and I craved her to do more than that; not a possibility at the moment. I did take her face in my hands and plant one long, soft kiss on her lips and then let her go.

  She blushed. “Thanks. You’re so sweet.”

  We stood there, captured by one another. I could tell that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Damn, why did her mother have to show up!

  “Hey! Hey!” her mother yelled out at us from the sofa, where she’d decided to take a seat despite Rayne ordering her to do so.

  Rayne broke our gaze and turned to her mother. “Yes, Momma?” she asked, disgust permeating her voice.

  Her mother crossed her legs and took another sip of her vodka. “Ya’ll don’t have to cancel your plans. We can still hang out.”

  “We?” Rayne asked in dismay. I was sure that Rayne wasn’t about to have either one of us sitting in a cozy restaurant on Valentine’s Day with her mother in between us, ranting and raving loudly.

  “Yeah, we.” Her mother pointed at us and then back at herself. “Rayne, Harley, and Arjay. The three musketeers.” When neither one of us responded, she added, “I know your ass doesn’t expect me to sit up in this shithole by myself.”

  Rayne started for her and I managed to grab her by the elbow and pull her back. “Momma, first of all, my apartment isn’t a shithole. You need to take a look at your own home before—”

  “There you go again, smart ass!” Arjay catapulted up off the sofa and came for Rayne, since I’d stopped her. She got within a foot of us and asked me, “Do you see the way my baby talks to me, Harley?”

  “His name is Yardley, Momma. Yardley!” Rayne screamed out in anger.

  “Harley! Yardley! What the fuck ever!” She still stared at me with bloodshot pupils. “Do you see the way she treats me?”

  I wasn’t about to get into the middle of the mess between Rayne and her mother. The embarrassment Rayne was feeling was obvious by her facial expression.

  “Mrs. Waters. That is your correct name, right?” I asked, knowing she had already stated it earlier. I was trying to change the subject anyway I could.

  “Yes, and I like being addressed that way. It makes me feel like a lady,” Arjay replied, smoothing her dress down over her hips. Then she looked at Rayne and added, “Now that’s what I’m talking about. A brother who acts like a gentleman. He might have some potential after all.”

  “Ma’am, my parents raised me that way. In fact, it would be an honor to escort both you and your lovely daughter out to dinner this evening.”

  “Yardley, you don’t have to do that!” Rayne exclaimed. “We can do it another time.”

  I smiled at Rayne. “I beg to differ. I made reservations for us at the Iron Gate Inn and it’s a dining experience that we all must have tonight.”

  Her mother whistled, reached behind me, and grabbed one of my ass cheeks. “My, my, my! This might be your lucky night, Harley. I mean, Yardley. You ever had a mother and daughter in your bed before?” She came closer to me and licked my earlobe. “At the same damn time!”

  “Momma, get off him!” Rayne yelled out, pulling her away from me. “That does it! I’m going out on my date tonight, with Yardley, by myself.”

  “What about me?” Arjay asked. “You can’t leave me here by myself.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. And to think, I almost let you sucker me into canceling my date to stay here with you. I’m keeping my plans.” Rayne headed toward her bedroom. “Yardley, give me about ten minutes to get ready and we can roll.”

  “Not a problem,” I said, feeling like a mouse in the middle of a brawl between two pitbulls. “Whatever you wish.”

  Rayne’s mother hissed under her breath and headed to the kitchen. Before I could get situated on the sofa properly, she was headed back with a new bottle of vodka in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. She slammed everything down on the coffee table and sat down beside me.

  “Do you drink?” she asked me.

  “From time to time. Mostly beer,” I responded.

  She placed her hand on my knee. “Care to take a walk on the wild side?”

  I politely removed her hand and placed it on her lap. “I appreciate the offer, Mrs. Waters, but I’m trying to get to know your daughter. One day, I hope she and I can have a serious relationship, so I can’t…”

  She started giggling and slapped her hand across her chest. “I’m not talking about fucking,” she said. “I’m a whore and a proud one at that, but I was teasing with you earlier. I’d never fuck the same man as my daughter. Even whores like me have limitations.”

  I couldn’t think of a thing to say so I finally uttered, “Well, that’s certainly good to know.”

  “When I said wild side, I meant vodka. Beer’s nothing but a chaser for me. Vodka’s the real shit.”

  “Oh, I see.” I held my palm up. “No thanks on the vodka. I have to drive and I’d never jeopardize your daughter, or myself, by driving drunk.”

  She glared at me for a moment. “You really do seem like a good man. Are you?”

  “I like to think that I am. I try my best to be a good man.”

  “Well, Rayne’s a good woman,” Arjay said. “She’d never believe that I’d tell you as much. She thinks I hate her, but I don’t. I love my baby. She doesn’t love me back.”

  “I’m sure Rayne loves you, Mrs. Waters.”

  “Really?” She scooted over closer to me as she poured a shot of vodka for herself and downed it in one gulp. “Does she talk about me a lot?”

  “Well,” I started, reluctant to tell an all-out lie, “Rayne and I have only been dating a little while but she’s definitely mentioned you.”

  “That’s good. That’s good,” she said, seemingly content with my response. “Yardley, let me say this and then I’m going to take my two cents and zip them in my mouth.”

  “Go ahead and say it.”

  “Rayne has problems when it comes to men.”

  “What kind of problems?” I asked curiously.

  “She has some trust issues and I’ll admit that a lot of it is my fault.”

  “How so?”

  “When Rayne was younger, back when the panty sniffers first started zeroing in on her, I broke it down for her and she couldn’t handle the truth.”

  “What truth is that?”

  “The fact that men only care about money and pussy.”

  I suppressed a laugh. “Not all men think that way, Mrs. Waters.”

  “Bullshit! Yardley, can you honestly tell me that, on any given day, you’re not concentrating on money and pussy the majority of the time?”

  “There may be some men out there like that.” I thought about Felix. “In fact, I’m positive there are men out there like that, but I’m not one of them. I’ll be honest by saying that I enjoy sex, but I won’t sleep with just anyone. A woman has to stimulate me on various levels for me to enjoy her company.”

  She poked me in the chest. “Make sure you don’t hurt my baby or you’ll have to deal with me. I’ll chop that dick and those little ass balls clear off your body.”

  I chose to ignore that statement.

  “Arjay, I can honestly say that my mind is not zoned in on sex. I concentrate on my patients while I’m at my medical office and I concentrate on many other things in the evenings.”

  “Medical office? Aw shit! You mean to tell me you’re a damn doctor?”

  “A chiropractor.”

  “Ain’t those the doctors that crack backs and shit?”

  “Sometimes
but there’s a lot more to it than that. We can do everything from help people recovering from car accidents to preventing menstrual cramps.”

  She giggled and slapped me on the thigh. “Damn, you can cure cramps?”

  I laughed right along with her. “I’ve been known to cure quite a few cramps.”

  That must’ve really excited her because she inched her way even closer to me. “So you must have some magical hands in the bedroom, huh?” she asked teasingly.

  Thank goodness Rayne returned right on time. In fact, I jumped up and said, “Right on time! We don’t want to lose our reservation.”

  Rayne was gorgeous in a black skintight dress and three-inch pumps; simple yet elegant. She had on moon drop pearl earrings and a small strand of pearls adorned her neck.

  “You look fantastic!” I exclaimed.

  She blushed at me. “Thanks and so do you. I didn’t get a chance to mention that earlier.” She eyed her mother, who was sitting on the sofa—acting like she wasn’t trying to feel me up a second ago—hanging on our every word. “Well, goodnight, Momma.”

  We’d almost made it to the door when her mother jumped up and strutted toward us. “So I’m supposed to sit here and starve tonight?” she asked Rayne.

  Rayne reached into her purse and pulled out two twenties. “There’s a stack of delivery menus in the top right-hand drawer in the kitchen; beside the sink. I have every type of food you can imagine in there, so order whatever you like.” Rayne opened the door, then paused, reaching back into her purse. “Here’s another twenty. The liquor store is two blocks down to the right, on the corner; in case you decide you want some more vodka for dinner.”

  Her mother grabbed the money out of her hand. “Very cute, missy! This is truly fucked up, but you seem dead set on treating me like a stranger. So be it,” Arjay said.

  “I’ll see you later, Momma.” Rayne leaned in and made a smacking noise with her lips. “Give me a kiss. M’wah!”

  “Get the hell out of here already,” Arjay stated vehemently. “But if I’ve jumped out the window by the time you get back, it’s all your fault.”

  Rayne grabbed my arm and led me out of her place. “Let’s make a run for it,” she whispered.