by Brother Dash
Chase sighs and looks away.
“You know what? You can use a refill right? Let me get these topped off for us.” He rises with their cups and returns a few minutes later with refreshed mugs of hot tea.
“Thanks for the refill,” she says. “Look, I know this is hard for you but stick with me. So anyway, one thing leads to another with this girl, and you guys go into one of the upstairs bedrooms and you have sex."
“Consensual sex Jenae. Consensual!”
“Yes, Chase I know. But the girl was only fifteen and she attended the rival high school you just beat.”
“But I didn't know she was fifteen, Jenae. I thought she was my age. She said she was a senior, and looked like it too. She even talked about how she applied to USC also. I mean if you would have seen her, there’s no way you would say, that’s a child."
"I get it. Will you let me finish the story please?”
“I’m sorry keep going.”
"So teenage boys being, well…teenage boys, they start talking. Word gets out that you…let me get the exact quote from the investigator…okay, here…word gets out that you scored another touchdown over General Lee High School that night. By Monday, it spread across town to her high school. Your rivals.”
"Yeah. And that's when my problems started. Aside from the crosstown hate, it turns out her father was a county politician."
“Yes, he was a state assemblyman. So you had politics, power, and probably old southern attitudes about black male/white female sexual relations all at play.”
"So when the news spread to him about me and his daughter—” Chase says.
"All of a sudden it went from consensual to rape. Her father pressured her into making the allegation and she was too afraid to challenge him. Through his political connections he got you arrested and things went haywire. You should never have been charged with, and certainly not convicted of, child molestation.“
Chase shifts in his chair. He curls his lips into his mouth and rubs his hands together.
“Chase I know this is uncomfortable. Teenagers have consensual sex all of the time. But here’s the thing. There was already a law on the books that should have been applied to your case. It’s called the Romeo and Juliet exception."
Chase's eyes pop.
“Yeah, I got that look too. Romeo and Juliet exceptions are when you have two teenagers who engage in consensual sex, but they are close in age. In Georgia, the female in this case has to be either fourteen or fifteen and the male can be no older than eighteen. Your age difference was actually only two years and three months. The prosecutor should not have charged you as if you were an adult and she were a child. He shouldn’t have charged you at all, and probably wouldn’t have, if those other factors weren’t present. ”
"This is crazy," Chase says.
"And to top it off, you had the kickback judge that sentenced you to five years."
"Kickback judge?”
“Judge Howard Steingard. He was the presiding judge at your trial. Check this out. He just got convicted last week on corruption charges. I said to myself, where have I heard that name before? That jogged my memory about the particulars of your case. Remember, I did this research almost three years ago so I had forgotten about him. He was getting kickbacks for sentencing mostly young black boys to a private prison. He and his cronies called it boys for bucks.”
"What? Why am I just finding out about this? This the nightmare all over again," Chase says.
"I know, I know. In your case you went to a state facility so you weren't a part of the official corruption and misconduct scandal. But all of Steingard's cases have now come under scrutiny. The judge’s name sounded familiar and then I remembered where I had heard it before. So whether I really wanted to see you again or not, I felt I had to. I had new information about your case so I decided to finally reply to your email.”
Chase leans back to process the waterfall of new information. Jenae ladles a dollop of dark amber honey into her cup. A hush in the conversation reveals the twangy strings and organ riffs of Al Green’s Love and Happiness streaming above them. Chase takes hold of his spoon and stares into the light green lagoon in his mug. He stirs and stirs.
"Chase?" Jenae says.
"I'm here. I’m just…just processing all of this,” he looks up with a forced smile.
“Look, the good news is you may be able to get your conviction overturned and clear your name. A clean record. Heck, maybe even a civil suit against the State. That’s why I brought all of this information with me in my bag. It’s for you. Give it to whoever is going to represent you.”
“Wow. Jenae…you’re something else…you’re amazing. After everything I put you through you still went and did all of this for me?”
She slurps her tea.
“So, what’s the title of your memoir?” she says.
“Ah, my memoir. Yes. It’s called, Chasing Tevarus: Finding my Truth in a Lie.”
Jenae lifts one eyebrow and curls her top lip.
“That sure is an intriguing title. Nice play on words. Chase, Ing, Tevarus. Cute.”
"Why thank you Ms. Dixon. It still is Ms. Dixon right? I don’t see a ring,” Chase says with a nervous chuckle.
“Well aren’t you Mr. Subtle. No, I am not married. I had a bad experience with that once. Wonk wonk," she says with a wink.
Chase's face turns sour.
"Relax, it's just a joke,” she says. “Humor helped me get through it all."
"I'm really sorry."
"You don't have to keep apologizing.”
“Can I tell you something crazy? Would you believe that when you threw your engagement ring out of Shauntelle’s car window, it landed in a pile of dog shit?”
Jenae spits her tea and chokes with laughter.
“Oh my God…” COUGH COUGH “…that’s hilarious. Kind of poetic when you think about it though,” she says.
“Yeah. Someone else said the same thing,” Chase says. “But listen, I have a question. Why didn’t you respond to me after you discovered the truth? It sounds like you understood."
"I did understand. It was quite a relief to be honest. It confirmed that you weren't the monster I was led to believe you were. I was considering taking you back."
Chase pins his shoulders to his ears and leans over the table.
“You were? Okay, so, so what stopped you?"
Jenae pauses. She sips her tea, leans back in her chair, and smiles. She doesn't respond. She lets the silence speak a little longer. She circles her manicured fingernail around the brim of the mug. Chase’s eyes stay fixed on her like a dog waiting for a treat. Jenae squints her left eye, rests her knuckles against her cheek and presses her finger to her temple like a famous Malcolm X photo.
“Let me ask you something Chase,” she says. “Is there anything you plan to leave out of your memoir?"
"What do you mean leave out? Oh, oh, oh. Jenae, listen if you're worried about me writing anything that would embarrass you, or hurt your career—“
"No. Nothing like that. I mean your memoir is about finding your truth in a lie right? That’s what you said right?”
Chase nods.
“Okay, so are there any other important truths and lies you failed to mention to me?”
Chase plops back in his chair. He knows Jenae well enough to know that she must be asking for a particular reason. So he combs through the drawers in the file cabinet of his mind. He searches through hidden folders and scattered thoughts. He can see a locked file labeled Eugene. His mind reaches for it. But he refuses to open it. He won’t share it. His lips part and close but the words won’t come out. Finally, he musters the courage to speak and says to her…
"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean."
Jenae's face turns from anticipation to disappointment. Like when you’re rooting for your favorite player to make the game winning shot and he just clanks it off the backboard.
“Okay, Chase," she sighs. “Okay,” she says with a soft frown.
She lifts the cup and takes a generous swallow. Her thumbs stroke the contoured edge as she ponders before speaking.
“Well, that’s why I asked you if there was anything else. After I got a fuller picture of your past, and the circumstances of your case, you were pretty much exonerated in my eyes. But I needed some advice on my feelings. Should I take you back or not? So I thought about the people in your life who knew you best. I thought about calling Tanaka and—“
"Who you never liked," Chase interjects.
"It's not that I didn't like him I just found him to be annoying. But I didn't contact him because that’s your boy. I knew he would just tell me to take you back no matter what. So then I thought for a minute and said, hey Jenae. Why not call the person who has known Chase the longest? So I contacted her. I called Andrea.”
Chase fidgets. His eyes contort. His forehead wrinkles.
"Andrea? I haven't spoken to her since...since everything ended with us. She never returned my calls, my messages, my texts. I even showed up at her place one day and turns out she moved. She didn’t leave a forwarding address. I called the psychology department at the university and they said she resigned. She just dropped off the radar. I assumed she must have gotten one of those packages too and didn't want to have anything to do with me."
“No, Chase. I don't think that was quite the reason. I mean, I don't know if she got a package or not, but she seemed surprised to hear about your past when I contacted her. I sought her out for advice because the two of you were such good friends. Of course, I didn't know how good until she invited me over to her loft for a chat over wine and dinner."
"A chat?"
"Yes, a chat."
“And she was drinking?”
“Yup,” Jenae says with emphasis on the puh sound.
It’s like a doomsday piano chord just played in his mind. Chase’s respiration increases and his heart rate ratchets up.
"So after I talk to her about the whole Tevarus Huxley thing, she proceeds to reveal something you never shared with me. She said that the two of you used to be quite the couple.”
“Uh, Jenae I—“
“I mean, girlfriend was going on and on about all the places you two used to go to, vacations in Aruba, how you used to lay it down and handle your business in bed. It was quite illuminating I must say. Huh, you think you know a person right?"
"Look Jenae. I—“
"I mean neither one of you saw fit to mention this cozy history between the two of you. And then you guys maintain this coziness as a friendship [Jenae flashes air quotes above her head] after I come along?”
“Jenae, Andrea and I were never anything more than just friends when you and I got toge—“
Jenae raises her finger. “Eh, eh, eh. I’m not done yet."
He grimaces like a child forced to eat Brussels sprouts.
“So since that wine she’s drinking is acting like truth serum, I’m like…here ya’ go. Bottoms up. I’m getting that Miss Chatty Patty all liquored up something fierce. She’s like an open fire hydrant of information at this point. And whoo boy was she mad at you. Hell hath no fury for real, for real. We’re in the living room and she stands up from her chair and starts moving from side-to-side, slurring her words. She’s got a glass in one hand and with her other hand she’s banging on her chest like she’s Denzel in Training Day. He gonna do this shit to me? To me?…I made Chase…I loved Chase. Gonna toss me aside like a rag doll? Gonna put a ring on some OTHER chick’s finger in MY goddamn muh-muh-fu-fuckin’ house? You should have been there,” she laughs.
“Jenae listen.”
“I mean can you blame her? I know men can do some dumb shit but, damn Chase. How are you going to propose to your girlfriend in your ex-girl’s living room? Where they do that at?”
Chase tries to jump in.
"Bup-bup-bup. Not done. Like the commercial says…And wait there’s more. Check this part out. She tells me this crazy ass story about you and a bunch of baby mama wannabes."
“No it wasn’t like that Jenae it—“
"Oh no, no, boo, boo. Write this down. This will be great for your little book,” she says, wagging her finger at his palms. “So Andrea tells me about that thug Eugene, who I discovered was Bam Hickson’s son. How the two of you cooked up some scheme to have women pay you to impregnate them. But no, not on some turkey baster do-it-yourself thing. It had to be the real deal. You had to actually have sex with these chicks.”
“Jenae, I was being blackmailed and I didn't actually have sex with them."
"Oh I know it was blackmail. Eugene is definitely his daddy’s son. Not as sophisticated as Bam, but I did discover that he was in the same prison, at the same time as you two. It didn’t take long for me to piece together that Eugene was holding your true identity over your head. It’s a classic, I’ll reveal your secret, blackmail. And you know something Chase? Even with her telling me all of this. All of this secret weird shit. Would you believe I could have gotten over it? Still could’ve taken you back.”
Chase looks at her astounded.
"I know. Crazy right? But that's just it. It was so damn crazy that it actually made perfect sense. I know you loved me Chase. You did all of this—“
“And I still—“ Chase interrupts.
“Shush. And you did all of this because you wanted to keep your perfect life. And you wanted to keep me in it."
“Yes, exactly. That's it. Babe you—“
Jenae ice grills him.
“I mean Jenae. You get it. You get it now. That was all I was trying to—“
"But there’s just one teensy, weensy, little thing," she says lifting the cup to her lips and tilting her head back with a final gulp. “Andrea took videos.”
Chase's mouth closes. Shit, I forgot all about those damn recordings, he thinks to himself. Jenae continues.
“Andrea stumbles down that long hallway of hers to her bedroom and comes back like the bumper cars on Coney Island, banging against the walls and carrying her laptop. She plops down next to me. She’s trying to get on some cloud storage website to show me a video. But she's totally wasted and just keeps pulling up these Los Angeles real estate listings she had bookmarked. So I took over and was able to log in since her web browser had her password saved."
Chase tries to interrupt again. Jenae just cuts him off.
"So I watch these videos and the first one was straight up hilarious. I mean that European chick was bat out of hell crazy. I don’t know where Eugene found that looney tune. And then you had the lesbians. Those two were a hoot as well. I mean the chunky one straight clocked you in the mouth. You were digging that pretty shorty though weren't you? Be honest?”
"Look Jenae. It wasn't like that. You saw I didn't even follow through."
"And then there was the last video. The woman wasn't crazy. She wasn't confused. She was smart, attractive, seemed really nice. A normal person this time and she was your type. I don’t know about the vegan thing, but not a deal breaker I guess."
"Jenae."
"Shhh, shhh it gets better.”
Jenae takes out her cellphone and starts typing.
"Jenae you saw in the videos that nothing really happened. I kept thinking about you all the time. I was in love with you. I kept thinking about protecting our life. Eugene was blackm—”
“Okay, done,” she says, as she presses send on her phone. “Look, Chase. This has been real. I appreciate the tea and the conversation and the clarity. I really appreciate the clarity.”
“Jenae a lot has changed. Just let me—“
“Okay, so to tie up the Andrea thing. She leans into my lap. Stanky alcohol breath fogging up the screen and she starts tapping on the display. Mind you, it wasn’t a touchscreen. Anyway she’s pressing and pressing and saying to me…Number three, number three. Press play, press play. So…I slid the mouse over and clicked play.”
Jenae goes in her bag and pulls out a trove of her Tevarus Huxley research documents. She stacks them on the table, rises,
tightens the strap of her coat around her waist, and turns up her collar.
“Wait, Jenae where are you going? Let's finish talking about this.”
“But we are finished. I came here because I wanted to help you with your past. These documents will help you reclaim it. I also came because I needed to confront a part of myself that I was avoiding. See, for one last time, if anything has truly changed. And I accomplished that too."
“Look, Jenae now that you know everything just give me a second ch—“
“A second chance? Is that what you were going to say?”
Chase starts to rise.
"No, no stay seated. You know something Chase? I do believe in second chances. We all deserve a second chance. And I promise. You’ll get your second chance."
Chase starts to beam.
“With someone else," she says.
His face goes blank.
"I made my peace a long time ago. I moved on. But you're still Chase Archibald. You proved it just now. If you want to actually be Tevarus Huxley then you need to accept who you are and own up to what you have done. Everyone you have hurt and lied to. Be the man you claim you want to be. The man I know you probably are deep inside. The man I fell in love with once. But this is going to be the last time we see each other.”
“The last time?”
“I sent you something when I took out my phone just now. Open it after I walk out. Consider it…a kind of gift. I hope it helps you find…well…I hope it helps you find yourself.”
She walks around the table, bends over the still seated Chase and tilts his head up. She draws her lips to his and presses. Her kiss is bliss. It is the warmth of a kindling fire. It is the comfort of the rug in front of that fire. He can smell her familiar sweet shea butter scent. It’s as if she never left. He savors the aroma like a water drop on an arid tongue. His eyes puddle as he can feel the approaching finality of her touch. A tear trickles from his eye. He could press his lips against hers forever. But this forever lasts all of two short seconds. With a soft pop, she breaks away; she strokes his falling tear with her thumb. And says nothing more. A final smile is her goodbye. She waves to the barista; he nods back. She exits through the glass doors and into the mid-afternoon sun. The sky is a bold indigo with puffs of white and a streak of gold. A few rays speckle her shoulders as she steps onto the freshly laid brick sidewalk; she turns and disappears down the boulevard.