Army of One

by A. K. Henderson

  Shamar had to admit that he had a point. At the time that Chrissy and Shamar hooked up, she was already stuck in a worthless relationship with some goofy white boy who was infatuated with black girls. Chrissy, however, was half black and half white. Since the child she had already had was white, no one would have guessed that when she popped up pregnant just weeks after she and Shamar slept together, the pale-skinned baby might have been his.

  “Hey, I don’t even know what to think right now. If I go after her about it and I’m wrong, my family name is burnt out here, and her marriage is over.”

  Kaduwey had a disgusted look on his face while having to listen to Shamar sidestep the issue with his compassion for Chrissy and her family. “Yo, for real, Shamar, the Army done made you hella soft. Since when did you start worrying about these bust downs? I’m just saying don’t let that ho play you for no sucka. I don’t care how light-skinned that little girl is, she look just like Mya. You always did like those crazy broads, but I can see you ain’t up to dealing with it. But I’m telling you, folk, you better deal with it before it’s too late,” he warned him.

  For a moment Shamar found himself reliving the time he met Chrissy. It was still vivid in his mind.

  * * *

  In the Chi

  Shamar made it to the corner of the block, highly irritated after the argument with Mrs. Turner, or “the old bag” as he put it. He stopped near a street sign to spark up the blunt he had rolled. With nothing actually planned for the day he continued walking and smoking, waiting for his buzz to kick in. The fall air had a slight sting to it and was cooler than usual that Friday morning.

  Shamar made it to his usual hangout spot: a park just a few blocks from the group home. He never walked farther than four or five blocks. He always made sure if he ran into trouble he wouldn’t have to run that far. Sitting on the edge of a picnic table Shamar continued to medicate, occasionally choking on the smoke. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the bracelet. Man, Joe, I wonder what she doing right now? I can’t believe it’s been this long. I wonder if she still remembers me, Shamar wondered about his mother in heaven. He didn’t know if she could but, if so, did she even think about him as much as he did her?

  “Who is this fool here?” Shamar said under his breath. He noticed an image walking toward him from the other side of the park. He looked around, quickly taking note of every escape route just in case this stranger was a stick-up kid. Shamar tensed up when he ran his hand across his waist and realized he didn’t strap up. “God,” he mumbled.

  As the image got closer, his heart pounded rapidly, and adrenaline started pumping. Suddenly the image, who turned out to be a young female, reached her hand in her pants pocket. He slowly slid off the table. In the Chi you never know what was up with people; females would jack you and set you up just as quickly as niggas would. I should have worn my contacts. I can’t see for nothing. Who is that? Just my luck I would be the one today, Shamar said to himself.

  The female’s hand appeared out of her pocket, and she began to raise it. Just when he was about to make a quick dash she called out, “Shamar, what’s up, boo? Why did I just have a whole argument with these Arabs at the gas station over some stupid Cheetos? I was about to cut one of them goofies.”

  Shamar let out a huge sigh when he realized it was his homegirl Chrissy. She kept rambling on and on until she noticed him staring at her in a daze. He couldn’t believe he let her spook him like that.

  “Dang, boy, snap out of it. You staring hella hard right now. Why is you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  “Oh, my bad, Chrissy. I didn’t know who you was coming over here. I was about to get ghost on you real fast, Joe. You lucky I left the Tre at the crib,” he joked as he stood up all the way and began walking toward her with his hands open for a hug.

  “Yeah, right, nigga. You lucky ’cause I would have cut yo’ ass before you had the chance to take that little raggedy burner off safety,” Chrissy replied, meeting his gesture for a hug. After they had separated, the two walked back over to the picnic table and sat down.

  Now Chrissy was a live one for real. Her five foot four frame and squeaky voice were deceiving to the unsuspecting Opp. It didn’t take much to set her off, and not even her crush on Shamar was enough to calm her down if he was there when somebody set her off. “What’s up with you, girl? Where you say you were coming from again? I’m sorry them jeans kind of caught me off guard,” he said, licking his lips and giving her the once over.

  “Boy, you stupid. I said I just came from the gas station messing with them Arabs. You know how they are. Stupid woman told me I was trying to steal some funky bag of Cheetos. What I look like?” she said, smirking with an attitude.

  Chrissy liked to pick with the Arabs at the gas stations and corner stores. She always thought it was funny to see them get mad and try to chase people out. Shamar always had a thing for her, but sometimes she was way too childish for him. He figured out awhile ago that she liked him; but she was nineteen then and, to him, it wasn’t worth it to get involved with someone who was so unpredictable.

  He responded, “Chrissy, you play too much. Keep on messing with them folks and they gon’ get you one of these days. What you do this time? Walking around eating those chips before you paid for them, weren’t you?”

  Chrissy smiled and nodded in agreement. “Let me hit that,” she said, nodding her head toward the half-smoked blunt in his hand.

  Shamar took a puff and handed it over to her. He watched as she licked her thick, glossy lips before wrapping them around the tip of the blunt. Looking her up and down, he traced her curves with his eyes, wishing that she weren’t so young minded. She thick as hell. He then teased her, saying, “Chrissy, you sexy as hell, you know that?”

  She choked on the weed smoke, caught off guard by his version of a compliment. “Boy, shut up! You play too much,” she snapped back playfully.

  Shamar grinned and laughed. “What? I ain’t playing.”

  “Then why you ain’t cuff me yet? You know I’m a rider, and I got that,” she said as she bit her bottom lip and started twerking on the edge of the table. It drove him crazy.

  “’Cause you too high-strung, Chrissy. I can’t take you nowhere. You always trying to fight somebody,” he answered.

  She knew Shamar was right and she hated that he teased her like he did. She would do anything for him, and no one could ever say anything bad to her about him. She was his little bad chick, and they had history.

  She was quiet back then, but one day while Shamar was out two boys cornered her and tried taking what they thought she was flaunting. Chrissy, already tired of them picking on her, caught one of them slipping. While he was trying to rip her skirt off, she slipped a razor from under her tongue and sliced the side of his face up. Just as the other one tried to move in on her Shamar showed up.

  Without hesitation, he jumped in and put the beats on him. Because of that, Mrs. Turner and the social worker were ready to throw baby girl out for using violence, but Shamar managed to sweet talk Mrs. Turner and explain everything. From that point on, Chrissy’s loyalty lay with him and, after going back home with her mother, she still came to see him almost every day.

  Chrissy moved closer to Shamar, put her hand on the inside of his thigh, and blew weed smoke at his crotch. She looked up at him seductively and said, “I know I’m a little crazy, but you’re the only one who can tame me.”

  She licked her lips and took another hit and Shamar caressed her cheek, gazing back into her eyes. Then he leaned down until their foreheads met and said, “Girl, give me back my weed. You trippin’! I was just messing with you, goofy. Stop playing.”

  Chrissy leaned back up with a disappointed look on her face.

  “Aww, poor baby. You mad now?” Shamar teased, knowing that he really wanted her to wrap those juicy lips around something else.

  “I can’t stand you boy, ugh!” she said.

  Shamar snickered and finished off what was left of
the blunt, and before he knew it he got the munchies. “Come to the corner store with me real quick. I’m hella hungry,” he said, hopping off the table.

  Chrissy followed suit. “All right. Can you buy me a soda?”

  “Yeah, a soda . . . pop!” he said, smacking her butt as she walked in front of him.

  “Boy, you better stop. You know I like that stuff.” Chrissy laughed.

  The two headed back across the park to the main road toward the nearest corner store. Chrissy had completely taken Shamar’s mind off of everything that had transpired earlier. Things were good, and he hoped they would stay that way. However, they wouldn’t. After a night alone with each other, out of nowhere one of Shamar’s uncles came to pick him up and it would be years before they saw each other again.

  * * *

  After hitting the mall for some gear, Kaduwey and Shamar headed back to the city to catch up with the homies on the south side. Jelisa was enjoying her day off since the shop was unusually closed this Monday. The only thing she could think about was the fact that Shamar hadn’t called at all. The reports on the news were talking about soldiers who had been killed, and she prayed that she never got that kind of call. She hadn’t spoken to her mother but once since their fallout, and that was only because Shawnie made them talk.

  Later that evening, all of the sisters were at Sandra’s house having dinner when Shawnie heard a light knock on the door. Jelisa was standing in the living room, talking to TT. The house was loud and the combination of the TV and stereo playing drowned out the conversation. When Shawnie opened the door, Shamar stood before her, motioning with his finger over his mouth for her not to say anything. He gave her a quick hug and slowly crept up behind Jelisa, who was a couple shots in and fully distracted by her conversation. Everybody grew slight smiles on their faces as Shamar inched closer to her. He gently wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on her neck.

  “What the hell?” she said as she spun around and jumped back. Seeing Shamar standing there left her speechless and tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t believe he was actually there.

  Jelisa experienced a rollercoaster of emotions as she embraced Shamar. The past couple of months had taken her to places within the depths of her heart that she never knew existed. She didn’t want this moment to end. As Shamar wiped the tears from her face, she was reminded why she fell in love with him in the beginning; he was her protector and her lover. Seeing him made her forget that she hadn’t heard from him in so long. Her mind reasoned that it was to build up the anticipation for his surprise return.

  “You know I missed you, right?” Shamar said, helping her to the couch. He quickly gave everyone hugs and sat down next to her.

  Jelisa nodded, still wiping the tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? I was so mad at you for not calling me. You don’t know what I’ve been through without you here.” Not wanting to let the moment be spoiled by complaining, Jelisa tried her best to calm down.

  “I know, love; and I wish I could have been here for you. There’s a reason why I haven’t called, but we’ll talk about that later. I just want to spend some time with y’all. I’ve got two weeks before I have to go back so let’s just enjoy it.” Shamar’s attempt to put her at ease was working; and they spent the rest of the night laughing, joking, and catching up.

  Once Mya was put to bed, Jelisa and Shamar headed back to her apartment to spend some time alone. Jelisa knew it would be hard for her to keep him to herself for the whole time he was home.

  Shamar was impressed with the way Jelisa had the place decorated. “You did good, honey. I like what you did to the place. What you got to drink up in here?”

  Shamar made his way around the apartment, giving himself a tour. He noticed there were no pictures of him anywhere in the apartment, which made him feel a bit slighted, especially with her supposedly missing him so much. He shook it off and joined her at the kitchen table, where she had poured two glasses of E&J.

  Jelisa, thumbing through her phone, felt Shamar looking at her. “What? Why you looking at me like that?” she asked.

  Shamar was staring off into the space behind her. “Oh, my bad. I’m just thinking, wishing I didn’t have to go back. I miss regular life, just being able to do normal stuff. Know what I’m saying?”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean. I think about that sometimes too. But how was it over there? Is it as bad as they say it is on the news?” Jelisa asked, placing her hand on his knee. “I mean, you would tell me if something was going on with you, wouldn’t you? I hear about all of these soldiers coming back after seeing so much over there, and they aren’t the same anymore. I just—”

  Shamar cut her off before she could finish. “I know where you’re going with this and I’m telling you I’m straight. Don’t worry about me. I haven’t seen nothing over there that I hadn’t already seen out here on these streets. Anyway, what’s really been up with you?” he said, pointing at her freshly done hair and the red bottom heels she was wearing. “Is this what you’ve been spending all my money on?”

  Jelisa couldn’t tell if he was serious or just messing with her, so she brushed it off. “Boy, please. I got my own money. Quit playing. Besides, you know I’m wearing the hell out of these heels. It’s all for you, Daddy,” she whispered seductively in his ear as she slowly stood up and walked past him, purposely swaying her hips to show him what he’d been missing out on.

  Jelisa walked over to the sink and began rinsing off the few dishes that were still there from earlier. Shamar slipped off his Pelle Pelle coat and pulled his white tee over his head, revealing his rock-hard abs hidden under a wife beater. While the shirt covered his head, Jelisa glanced over her shoulder just in time to see his accidental strip tease and she immediately got moist. The sight of Shamar standing there in that wife beater, jeans, and brand new Jordans reminded her of the first time they met.

  He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she poked her butt out, welcoming him to come closer. He leaned in and kissed her on her neck, making her knees nearly give out on her. Shamar received no resistance as he took her right there in the kitchen. He picked her up by her waist as she wrapped her legs around his and her hands held on to the back of his neck. He spun around and laid her on the table and feasted on every part of her. They rekindled their love for each other for the next two hours; and, by midnight, the bottle of E&J was empty, and they were fast asleep in the living room on the couch.

  As her body lay on top of his, she was suddenly awakened by the twitching of his muscles. Jelisa looked at Shamar’s face, and she could see his eyes racing back and forth behind his eyelids. He moaned and groaned in anguish. Whatever he was dreaming about was tormenting him, and she had to wake him.

  Patting him on his chest gently so as not to startle him, she called out to him, “Babe, babe. Shamar, wake up.” He wouldn’t budge. She rubbed her hand on the side of his face, calling his name out louder. “Shamar, please wake up! Wake up!”

  Suddenly, his eyes sprang open and, without warning, he grabbed her by the throat, flipping them both off of the couch and onto the floor. Jelisa struggled for air, kicking and clawing away at his chest while begging him to let go. There was a deadness in his eyes and, as she could feel the life escaping her, she reached over to the coffee table and grabbed the empty E&J bottle, smashing it across Shamar’s head. He blacked out; and when he came to, he awoke to a terrified Jelisa trembling in the corner, naked and wrapped up in a blanket.

  Shamar’s head was pounding and he felt dizzy. He had no idea what had just happened. The last thing he could remember was falling asleep on the couch. The next thing he knew, he was dodging bullets in Iraq. “Baby, what’s wrong? Jelisa, why is there glass all over the place?” He tried getting up but was quickly knocked back down by gravity and the huge headache he now had.

  Jelisa didn’t reply; she stayed in the corner, shaking her head and crying. “Stay away from me!” she cried out.

  Shamar stood
up, put his boxers on, and cautiously approached Jelisa. “Jelisa, please tell me what happened. Why are you crying? What did I do?”

  For a second she couldn’t believe he was even asking this question, but the look on his face told her that he genuinely had no idea what had just happened. “You . . . you choked me. I was just trying to wake you up, and you choked me,” she said as she continued to cry.

  Shamar reached out to her, and she shrank back farther into the corner. “Baby, come here. I swear I won’t hurt you. I can’t even remember what happened. You’ve got to believe me.” Shamar helped her to her feet and walked her over to the couch that they were lying on before he tried to choke the life out of her. He wrapped his arms around her as they huddled underneath the cover.

  “Jelisa, I am so sorry. I swear I don’t know what happened. You know I would never put my hands on you, or any other woman. You believe me, right?” Shamar pleaded with her to forgive him. He searched his mind, looking for an explanation of what had just taken place.

  “I can’t do this right now. The person I just saw with his hands around my throat was a totally different person. I don’t know who you are anymore. Please just leave me alone.” Jelisa pulled the cover off of her and got up. She went to her room, locking the door behind her, and cried herself to sleep, confused about what had taken place. What would have happened if she hadn’t been able to get him off of her?

  Shamar remained sitting on the couch with his face in his hands, trying to understand what came over him. He eventually fell asleep on the couch around 5:00 a.m. but was awakened by an eerie feeling that somebody was watching him. As he came to, Jelisa sat in a nearby recliner, partially hidden under a blanket. She sat silently drinking a cup of tea, trying to nurse her bruised and sore throat.

  Sitting up, Shamar cleared his throat and greeted his weakened wife. “Hey, Jelisa, how you doing? Listen, I’m sorry for what happened last night.”