by Brother Dash
"Eugene, we're in the middle of a meeting," Chase says.
"Oh I know, I know. You see I've been trying to get in touch with you for like the past three weeks. Phone, email, text, knocks on your door. But no Chase to be found."
“Everyone this is my old friend Eugene Merriweather. Some of you met him at my birthday party. Eugene my apologies for not returning your—“
Eugene raises his hand.
“Oh no it's okay. I know you're a busy man. The English department's secretary…” Eugene looks at Dean Ganges, “Carol is her name I believe? She is so sweet Dean Ganges…really great hire you made there.”
Ganges returns a polite smile.
“She said you were having this big faculty dinner and after I explained who I was, she was kind enough to give me the details for your little shindig. So here I be. Wasn’t that nice of her?”
Eugene grabs Dr. Scobee's wine glass and takes a sip.
"And now to my joy…I walk in just in time to hear this wonderful news.”
He leans his head back and lets the last few drops of wine drip into the well of his throat.
"You know I wish I would have known this fantastic news before. I could have shared it with our father. Me and Man-Man flew down to see him last week," Eugene says.
Chase’s eyebrows tense up. Dean Ganges seems puzzled.
"Father? Chase, Eugene is your brother? And wait, I thought your father died?" she says.
Chase's light mocha skin turns reddish brown. Eugene smirks and lifts one eyebrow at Chase.
"No, no Dean Ganges. Eugene and I are not brothers," he says.
“Nah, my Queen. I mean Dean. We’re not brothers like sharing the same blood. But after Chase’s Dad ahem died, my own father treated him like the son he never had. Which is strange considering I’m the son he did have? Well, can’t pick your parents. Anyway, Dean Ganges my apologies for the interruption. I just have a message for Chase. Chase should I relay that message right here or do you want to talk outside? Wait, you know what? You folks are having such a nice dinner why should I be the grinch to take Chase away? I’ll just spit it out in front of everyone.”
“Uh no, no,” Chase says waving his hands. “We don’t have to do that. Dean this will only take a few minutes. Is that okay?” Chase says.
He pauses for her response. She nods, but her lack of a verbal yes is not a good sign. Nonetheless, the three men walk out of the room and into the carpeted hall. Eugene starts to speak.
”No not here," Chase says. “Follow me.”
The three men power walk down the restaurant’s first floor corridor, past the last set of restrooms and around a bend where Chase stiff arms the swinging double doors open. They walk into a dank and gritty tunnel of cinder blocks and iron piping. A pronounced draft and the clanging of dishes and mumbled foreign conversations echo from farther down the corridor. It’s frigid and damp. The cement floor looks like it’s sweating. It reflects the dim light of the yellow bulbs dangling from the pipes above. The light casts a harsh shadow on Chase’s biting expression.
“What the hell do you think you're doing Eugene?" Chase says. He steps nose-to-nose and digs his index finger into the side of Eugene’s eye socket. Man-Man jumps to intervene but Eugene holds the hulk at bay with a firm tug on the big man’s elbow. Chase’s mouth inches close to Eugene’s nostrils.
“Oh please, playboy. I can smell the Similac on your breath. You don’t want none of this right now. Best get your hand out my face. Ain’t that right Man-Man?”
Man-Man slams his iron paw on Chase’s shoulder. The not-so-jolly giants puts the squeeze on. Chase does little to conceal a sarcastic smile as he backs off.
“I asked you a question Eugene,” Chase says.
“Why I crashed your little snooty college boy dinner? I don’t know, Chase. I guess I was feeling like someone wasn’t taking me seriously. So I went to visit my father.”
“You actually went to see Bam?”
“No doubt. I had to update him on your bullshit," Eugene says.
“Is that so? You know Eugene I've been thinking," Chase says with a squinted eye and crossed arms.
“What did I tell about thinking? Leave that to me,” Eugene says.
"Bam looked out for me. He took care of me when we were all in Georgia and got me set me up here in Brooklyn. So why would he send you up here to mess up a situ—?“
"Let me stop you right there. I know where you're going so let's just cut to the chase, excuse the pun."
“Wow, he knows what a pun is," Chase says.
Man-Man smacks Chase upside the head. Chase lunges at the six foot six, four hundred pound henchman and grabs his tree stump of a throat. They tussle with Chase trying to hold his own against the burly man. Eugene jostles between the tight quartered wrestling match.
"Okay, stop. Stop it. Everybody relax. Break it up. Break it up I said. Man-Man let go of Chase’s face.”
The giant finally relents.
“Look, just go chill out down by that light for a minute.”
Man-Man walks underneath a hanging light bulb ten feet away. Chase breathes heavily and tucks his shirt back into his wool trousers.
“Okay, now back to you. Look here Chase. You were well taken care of. Bam treated you like a son."
“Exactly which is why this whole scheme isn’t making sense," Chase says.
"Really? So you don't think you owe him anything for what he did for you?"
"Of course I do, but I've been thinking about it these past few weeks."
"Thinking? You’ve been thinking you say? Thinking about how you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain I hope? How you think that’s gonna play out with me and Bam huh?”
"Eugene your threats don't scare me. I’m starting to think Bam didn’t even send you. Why would he jeopardize what he helped create?"
"I already told you from jump what the plan was. We about making that money. All you had to do was your part. The part you know best. The part that got you in trouble in the first place or do we need to go back to you and the little white girl?"
“You know what? I’m done with this. I can't believe I even agreed to it in the first place. I know Bam. And I know you. This whole scheme sounds more like you than him. So you and fat boy can go back down South. We're done here. And don't you even think of going back into my dinner meeting," Chase says.
Chase turns to rejoin his colleagues.
"Not so fast playboy," Eugene says. “You know I thought your punk ass might try to put on the big boy pants since I ain’t heard from you."
Eugene nods at Man-Man. The behemoth comes and squeezes between the two of them. He slides his bear claw inside the breast pocket of his triple XL leather coat. Chase balls his fists. He tenses up as he can hear the gargantuan’s stubby fingers fumble against something that sounds metallic. Chase squares up, expecting the worst. Man-Man hunches. Chase hunkers. Man-Man looks from side-to-side, and whips out a long skinny piece of black metal; he displays it like a tray of food in front of Chase. It’s just a digital recorder.
"Well you certainly have a flair for the dramatic," Eugene says to Man-Man. Man-Man lets out a rare deep throated chuckle. Chase lets out a sigh. Eugene removes the device from Man-Man's palm.
"You see I kind of expected this little burst of courage from you. I told my father about our lack of progress…your lack of progress to be exact. Well you know Angelo “Bam” Hickson. He wasn't too pleased to hear that. What was that word he kept saying Man-Man? Oh wait I remember now…ungrateful. He wasn’t happy with you bro. But hey, I knew you wouldn’t believe me so here you go. Listen for yourself," he says.
Eugene holds the recorder high. A sudden rush of anxiety washes over Chase as Eugene presses play. After a few seconds of hearing what sounds like the shuffling of chairs and indecipherable mumblings…the clear, commanding baritone of a voice Chase has not heard in over seven years, blares from the recorder. Bam’s cadence is deliberate. His pronunciation is precise. But it is the anger…the
anger in his tone that punches Chase in the gut like a fighter about to hit the canvas.
The audio goes…
I don't ask I tell. I don't get told, I get asked. Somebody didn’t get the memo? Somebody needs some reminding as to who the fuck I am? What I can do? Defying me? Me? No, you say? That is a word that only I can use, not those who owe me their life [distorted audio]. BANG BANG [Bam’s fist slamming a table] Would have been ripped to shreds if it weren’t for me. I created [distortion] Chase. I built Ch-[distortion]Chase. And I can break [inaudible] him. I will not be defied. His [distortion] career? Done. A little boy he mentors? Over. Getting married to [distortion] the lawyer? I will destroy her too. [distortion] Her career? Over. Done. I will destroy everything. Let the world know everything. A debt is a debt. I demand [distortion] repayment. Chase better do this or I will [distortion] tell everyone who he really is.
Bam's voice detonates into a frenzy of expletives and restatements about who he is. The sound of furniture being shoved is followed by an explosive roar, hacking and wet gurgling. Eugene presses stop. Chase leans his back against the cold cinder blocks. He sucks the cold swells of tunnel air circulating through the innards of the restaurant into his nostrils. He bows his head. He misjudged…Big Time. He underestimated…Sorely. He miscalculated…Grossly. Eugene places a hand on Chase’s shoulder.
"That last sound you heard? That was him choking me," Eugene says.
Chase looks up.
"That's how angry he was at you. He couldn’t choke you so he took it out on me. As usual.”
"I-I had no idea he would—He’s never been—“
"Been like that with you?" Eugene interrupts.
"Yeah. He’s never acted like that towards me," Chase says.
“Yeah well you were always the golden child so you never got the real Bam Hickson. But we don't have time for this Dr. Phil shit. Enough time has been wasted and that chick you sent away was worth an easy ten grand. More, if we could have milked the conception thing somehow. Homegirl had some serious Euro trash dough."
“Yeah well homegirl, as you say, was seriously crazy. I tossed her out because she was a racist nutcase," Chase says.
"Oh stop being a whiny little bitch. She wasn't racist."
"Wasn't racist? She wanted me to be her slave and she the master."
"Look choir boy that's not racist that's just freaky. Normal people do kinky shit."
“Eugene she smacked me in the face and spit a loogie in my eye!”
Man-Man laughs like a hyena.
“Alright, Alright I get it," Eugene says, fighting back his own laughter. "We've already worked out a plan going forward."
“Fine. So what does Bam want to do?" Chase asks.
"Bam? No, no, no. When I say we, that means me and that redhead snowflake of yours," Eugene says.
"Redhead snow—? Wait...Andrea? How the hell are you talking to Andrea?" Chase says.
“She called me.”
Eugene pops a piece of chewing gum in his mouth.
“Called you? How did she even get your—“
Eugene stops Chase.
"That's not important right now. You can work that out with her later. But she's gonna help make this easier for all of us."
"This is not happening," Chase says as he tries to pace inside the cramped damp tunnel.
“Hey get a grip,” Eugene says as he squeezes Chase's cheeks in a pucker.
Chase smacks Eugene’s hand away. Man-Man clears his throat and slowly wags his finger at Chase.
"Listen. Snowflake is going to get the chicks for you now. She'll find them, screen them, and make sure they're not like the last one," Eugene says.
"She'll find? She'll screen? No, she’ll do no such thing. Whatever, I'll deal with her myself," Chase says.
"Do I need to replay this tape? You know who you're fucking with don't you? You've seen what Bam can do. He does good and he does bad. And his bad is worse. But make no mistake. What he did for you? Nobody does anything in this world for free. This is your debt to repay, playboy. Man up and pay. Or you can man up, don’t pay, and then deal with the consequences. It’s your choice. Hell, I'll make it easy for you. I'll march right back in that room and play this tape for that Dean Ganges of yours since you’re not afraid of the consequences.”
A silent pause.
“That won’t be necessary" Chase says.
“Good. Now your redhead is going to get these chicks for you. You just be a man and do what men do. Can you manage that?"
"How?" Chase says.
"What do you mean how? Joker, you don't know how to screw?”
“You’re a crass little man. What I mean is, how is she getting these women? I don't want a repeat of that experience. Which reminds me. How the hell did you find that Vicky woman?"
“Oh that’s easy. The internet. Ever heard of it?"
"You're just the king of comedy aren't you?" Chase says.
Man-Man smirks and wheezes with a grin.
"I went on this site called Sell 'n Serve. All kinds of products and services. So I listed you as a product and as a service."
“This is what goes on in your brain? I'm on some website called Sell ’n Serve?"
“Relax playboy. I didn’t use your real name…well…I didn’t use your real fake name if we’re being technical. I can't stand your punk ass but I—
“—The feeling is mutual,” Chase interjects.
“But I wouldn’t blow up your spot. At least not just yet. That would be bad for business. I just put you in as John Smith and told Vicky your name when she responded to the ad.”
“And that worked out so damn well Eugene. Thanks.”
“Look, I’m a humble brother. I can admit a tiny mistake. My bad. It could have gone smoother. But that's okay. We just need to do what you might call, a course correction."
"A course correction? Involving Andrea is a course correction?"
"Look she called me okay? At first I thought it was weird but I'll admit. She made a hell of a lot of sense. She knows you well. And she’s smart. Snowflake got a good head on her shoulders. She knows how to plan shit. I'll say that much.”
“Oh, she will be my first call believe me," Chase says.
“Well, whatever, just don't mess this up. Now, Man-Man and I have other business to attend to, so you go ahead and enjoy the rest of your little dinner meeting. Your ex has your instructions for next weekend."
"Next weekend?”
Man-Man opens the double doors leading back into the banquet hall's main corridors. Chase and Eugene follow.
”Oh and congratulations on your promotion. I'll be sure to tell Bam, you know, just in case he wants to give a call to Dean Ganges himself. But you wouldn’t go and give him a reason to do that, now would you?" Eugene says.
He waits for a response. Chase just glares at him.
“Yeah, I didn't think so. Good night playboy. Rest up. You got work to do."
Chase sighs. The wind from the hall whistles through the thin slit of the door. Although the corridor leading back towards the gathering is steaming from the banquet hall’s cranked up heat, goosebumps form on his skin as if he were standing in a chilly breeze. Bam’s anger and threats, replay in his thoughts. It causes his skin to percolate. When will this end? His mind is a hornet’s nest of anxiety, fear and anger. He paces and grinds his temples with the heels of his palms.
“Argh," he screams aloud.
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
His pocket vibrates against his thigh. He fumbles inside for his phone. He reads the screen:
Dean Ganges
You need to get back here. Dessert/Coffee being served. Not a good 1st impression 4 the next Chair.
Chase
Sorry. Coming now.
He straightens his tie. Blows on his hands twice and rubs them together like sticks in a forest. He cups the warmed palms on his cheeks and shakes his arms out at his sides. You can do this. Deep inhale. Deeper exhale. Fake smile on. Back to the dinner.
10 Double T
rouble

A soft amber bosom slumbers on a firm mocha chest. Their purring breaths curl within another like a poem of wordless whispers. The crumpled crimson bedsheets expose the indentations of his meaty, muscular rump and drape below her bared bottom. Their bodies appear gift wrapped in a silk ribbon. Points of light surf through the cracked shutters of the windows tiptoeing on the hunky bicep cradling her shoulder; it’s like the arm of a dark knight protecting his queen. The lovers are not simply asleep; they are at rest. That peaceful place of—
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
Technology. It’s like grandpa prodding his cane in your side to get your attention. It pokes a finger in his sleeping brain and jolts him awake. His protracted fingers fumble on the nightstand for the phone. It continues to vibrate as he shovels loose change, a purple dress sock, and the aloeswood incense burner, in a blind search for the electronic source of irritation.
"Chase get the phone," Jenae groans from under the frumpy pillow.
Chase accidentally knocks the phone to the floor as it rings a final time. He stretches over the edge of the mattress to retrieve it and swipes the screen:
ANDREA
(3) missed calls
He wipes the crust from his eyes and peaks over his back shoulder. His frizzy haired sleeping beauty is still buried under her silk pillow. Cradling the phone to hide the screen he thumbs a reply:
CHASE
Yo. Why so many calls?
Cant talk now. CB l8tr.
Chase puts the phone, screen side down, on the nightstand. Now, wide awake, he eyes Jenae. He traces the flawless contours of her shoulders and upper back with his gaze. He ingests her smooth slopes and cushiony curves. The fabric cloaks her tan posterior, like red velvet layered in moist, sweet cream. He loves to admire her succulence, especially, after the dawn when her beauty is at its most natural. It's not the first time he has risen by her side. But to Chase, the image of his love is always fresh. It’s like sipping chilled guava along the blue waters of the Aruban north shore. Jenae is that juicy glass of sexy sweet.