The Graffiti Effect

by Forrest, Perri

  “Yeah . . .”

  “I knew that was you.”

  Her brown face opened up into a wide grin. She walked further into the room her dress clinging to her with each step, the white open-toe heels clacking against the floor. She took a seat on the sofa, crossed one well-oiled leg over the other, and began writing on the clipboard that she had with her.

  “Do I know you? I mean, I never forget an attractive woman, but I—”

  “It’s okay. You don’t know me. But I know you. I’ve seen your moves,” she said, blushing. “You’re very talented. I was impressed.”

  “You weren’t too impressed,” I said, sitting next to her, and taking in just how pretty she was. “You didn’t stay long enough for a meet and greet so we could get better acquainted.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t. You had a full house vying for your attention that night—so I called it a night.”

  “That’s too bad,” I commented, looking into her big brown eyes.

  She broke eye contact and lifted a few sheets of paper at a time, applying what looked to be her signature, as she went along.

  “I’m here to discharge you,” she notified me, still not looking up.

  “Discharge, huh?”

  She looked up. “Yes. I’m sure you’re eager to get home. You’ve been our guest for an entire week.”

  “Yet, you never came to see me before today. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself for that, Miss . . .”

  She laughed out loud. “It’s Stacy. No ‘Miss’ needed. And I’m absolutely not ashamed of myself.” She removed the top sheet from her clipboard then handed it over to me. “Everywhere you see my initial, read and then sign.”

  I accepted the item from her. “And what do I get when I do that?”

  “Released . . .” she responded matter-of-factly.

  I picked up on her playing hard to get, and as entertaining as it was, I wasn’t really in the mood for it. We’d done cat and mouse long enough, and now I was just ready to get my John Hancock on all of the papers and wait for Bash to come and pick me up.

  “Here you go,” I said, returning her clipboard, then standing up from the couch.

  “Thank you, and I hope that—”

  “My boy!” Sebastian yelled out on his way into my room. “What’s good?” He came over to issue our handshake, then asked, “You ready?”

  “Yep, I’m ready.”

  He looked down at Stacy who was still seated. He had that look in his eye that he gets when he sees a pretty girl. I held my laughter, choosing to shake my head, instead.

  “And what about this beautiful woman? You ready too?” he asked, Stacy directly.

  “Uhh, no . . .” she chuckled, standing from the sofa and smoothing out the body sheath that laid across her curves. “I have some more patients to check out, so I’ll leave you guys to your day. After that, she quickly headed to the exit.

  We both watched in admiration as Stacy left the room. Sensing our eyes on her, she shot a quick glance over her shoulder before she was completely out of view.

  Sebastian turned to me. “Damn, that was a beautiful black woman right there,” he said.

  “Beautiful indeed,” I responded.

  “What was that exchange I saw?” He laughed out loud. “Shit, is there any goddamn where you go that the chicks ain’t sac-chasin’? I guess it’s that goddamn Graffiti Effect, huh?!”

  We both guffawed as we exited the room, and as I got closer to freedom.

  “That Graffiti Effect wasn’t affecting her, though,” I confessed.

  “Word?”

  “Yep. You should drop me off at home and then come shoot your shot,” I coaxed him.

  “Shit, I might just do that!”

  “Cool. Now, let’s hurry the fuck outta here before they come in here with one of those damn wheelchairs, talkin’ about hospital policy.”

  -51-

  KASSIDI

  “Mama, chill. Please.”

  If it wasn’t for the beautiful view I had of the Las Vegas cityscape, I wouldn’t have been able to listen to my mother. That cityscape literally saved my sanity. It sat there staring back at me, luxury hotels and buildings everywhere, beautiful homes spoiled with square footage, and enough glitz to last a lifetime. It’s what kept me in a semi-state of serenity—for the moment. It didn’t bother her one bit that I was in the middle of my workday; all that mattered to her was that she got to speak her peace. Even though there were several hours between the time I got off work and went to fuckin’ bed, where she could’ve called! She chose to call when I was in the throes of work, never once stopping to ask if I was busy. And God forbid asking if I even wanted to talk about what the fuck she was letting fall out of her mouth like diarrhea.

  “I’m not gonna chill on this, Kassidi. I just don’t get it. I was quiet for a while and now some time has passed. You’ve had more than enough time to discuss this!” she screamed all the way from Atlanta in my ear.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back trying to channel. I needed that calm place I went to whenever she rattled my nerves too bad. But today it wasn’t coming to my rescue. Then it hit me. I didn’t need to be rescued. I was an adult. I was at the onset of a new life and I deserved to live that new life on my terms.

  “With all due respect, Mama, I don’t have to explain anything to you at all. Not anything. It’s not like any of the wedding’s expenses came out of your pocket. It’s not like you were here to help with any of the planning. You were flying out two days before the wedding. So, please stop acting like it was a major investment that you took a huge loss on.”

  Whew, chile!

  A weight had been lifted when let out what I wanted to say. Did I feel guilty? Not at all. What I felt was closer to relief. I was tired of her thinking she was going to bully me, into discussing a part of my life, that I was well on my way to being over.

  “You got a lot of fucking nerve, talking to me like that, girl,” she spat. “I’m here worried about what the hell is going on with my child and this is—”

  “Worried about me?! Really?! That’s how you see it?! I don’t. I see it like you trying to live your fantasy out through my life. That’s what I see. You’re worried about your friends asking why you didn’t leave to go to California for your daughter’s wedding. You’re worried about what other people think of you. This don’t have a thing to do with me.”

  “How could you even crook your damn mouth to say some shit like that?!”

  “Easy. Did you jump on the first flight to even check on me after the wedding was called off? Did you even ask what I needed from you? Did I need to talk? Hell no! Did none of that, Mama! So, do not act like this is your way of making sure I’m good. This is your way of segueing to how I fucked up, when in actuality I didn’t fuck up at all. Well, wait . . . I did fuck up. I fucked up with you chanting in my ear every chance you got about my biological clock ticking. When you were gonna get some grandbabies. That’s where I fucked up. That’s the only place I fucked up—by giving in to peer pressure from my own mother!”

  “Hmph . . .” I heard her say from the other end of the line. “Accountability, never has been your strong suit, girl.”

  “Incorrect. When I need to be acc—”

  “So, I guess you fucking another man before you made it to the altar . . . wasn’t you ‘fucking up?’”

  She was so smug when she said it, that I could almost see her expression through the phone. I could almost see the tight, thin grin stretch across her face. It was a touché moment for her. She’d been waiting to hit below the belt. She’d been waiting to go for the jugular and now I’d opened the door wide open for her to do just that. I was stunned into silence at how disrespectful she could be towards me. Her words were drenched in disdain.

  I was outdone. Devastated. The only thing I could say after that was, “Are you done?”

  And while her response was delayed, my move to disconnect the line, was not.

  Standing in the mirror of my office’s bath
room, I looked into my bloodshot eyes. The hurt and pain staring right back at me. Luckily, I hadn’t worn that much makeup this morning or I would’ve been ass-out. My eyeliner had been ruined, and there were patches of black from the mascara, but nothing a little bit of water couldn’t wash away. I grabbed the small rag from the rack next to the toilet and wet it with warm water. It took a few minutes, but I managed to make sense of my face all over again. Now, it was just a matter of reapplying what had been washed off.

  I made my way back into my office feeling better than when I first ran off to cry. Inside the small closet, I got my purse and took out my pouch of makeup and went to work. As I was putting on a layer of lipstick, someone knocked at my door.

  “Come on in!” I stated, hoping my voice reached across the room.

  “Am I interrupting you?” Kandice asked, peeking inside the cracked door. She was sporting her signature sleek ponytail with the bangs. The hairstyle fit her perfectly. “Because if so, I can come back.”

  “Not at all, Kandice. Come on in. She stepped further into the office and closed the door behind her. “What’s going on?” I asked her, giving my best impression at being okay. “Is everything okay?”

  “Umm, yeah. All is good with me,” she responded, taking a seat on the other side of my desk. “But I’m here to find out if all is well with you.”

  My head nodded involuntarily. “I’m good,” I lied, producing a smile to go with the fib. I snuck my pouch back into my purse since I’d finished fixing my eyes and lips. Kandice sat for a few seconds looking at me inquisitively. I became nervous under her gaze. I feared transparency, so I tried to deflect. “Why would you think I wasn’t okay?”

  She waited a few seconds, then responded. “I came all the way in earlier. I’d knocked and you didn’t hear me, so I came inside.” She hesitated a few seconds. “You didn’t sound okay.”

  -52-

  KASSIDI

  Busted . . .

  I guess the look of astonishment on my face caught Kandice off guard because she was all over herself with apologies.

  “I honestly wasn’t trying to be in your business like that, Kassidi. I really just came in here to chat you up and see how things were going, tell you that the consensus among your staff is that we all love you, girl. I didn’t expect to hear you crying. I didn’t want you to know that I was here, so I left quickly. But then I didn’t feel right about leaving you in that state. So, I came back to see if you needed anything.”

  “That’s very sweet of you, Kandice.”

  “If it’s about the job, I really want to know, because I’m sure they’d hate for you to be unhappy after moving and—”

  “Kandi, it’s cool,” I said cutting into her rattling on.

  She put her hand on her chest in relief. “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  She let out a puff of air. “Good. And for the record, I didn’t run out of here telling anybody that you were crying or anything like that. I’m not that girl.”

  I waved my hand in front of me to signal to her that I wasn’t worried about it. “It’s okay. Even if you did, it’s cool. I appreciate you circling back to check on me. I really do.”

  “So . . . is everything okay?”

  Initially, I was going to be quiet and dredge up a lie to feed her. However, after the conversation with my mother, I needed a release.

  “Do we have any meetings coming up in the next half hour?” I asked her, having decided that I might confide in her. “I haven’t had a chance to check my calendar yet.”

  “We’re good until this afternoon’s staff meeting.”

  “Okay.”

  I let out a trapped sigh of relief. I didn’t know how much I was going to share with her, but I already felt a little better knowing that I was going to at least get some of it off my heart. She seemed trustworthy, and non-judgmental.

  I guess I had been silent for longer than I realized because before long, Kandi commented, “There’s no pressure, Kassidi. Really. If you want to talk at any point, I’m here.”

  “No. I want to tell you. See . . .” Then came another pause. I think it was more about me being scared to speak the words out loud. “I moved to Vegas after a huge breakup. Not just any breakup—a pre-wedding breakup. Like, days before the wedding breakup.”

  “What?! Really?!” Kandi asked, shock on her face. “A planned wedding and everything?!”

  “Yeah. Planned and everything.”

  “Damn. So, what happened?”

  “It was a lot of stuff, but ultimately, I . . .”

  I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. It was crazy to hear it come out into the air—to an almost-stranger.

  “You what?” Kandi asked, eagerly. Her eyes widened and I could tell she had the answer. “You cheated?”

  “Would you think negatively about me if that was it?”

  “Girl, please. I may look innocent, but I’ve been through some shit myself. So, hell no.”

  “Okay, then yeah . . . I cheated.” And the words were spoken. “I cheated on him. During my bachelorette party weekend.”

  “You’re not the first, girl. And you won’t be the last. You weren’t really ready, huh? Felt pressured?”

  Kandice was so matter-of-fact with her responses, that it made me more relaxed with the conversation.

  “I had my mother in my head, and I was in my own head, about my biological clock ticking. Everybody around me being with somebody and starting families . . .”

  “Okay, first of all, biological clock? What are you in your early 30’s? Girl, please?”

  “Try mid-thirties. That, to me, signifies forty.”

  “And? Girl, bye!” Kandice remarked with a roll of the neck and a wave of her hand. “I’m thirty-nine and feeling zero pressure to give in to society’s standards. You need to adopt that. They got us thinking we’re old maids if we don’t have a ring on our fingers by twenty-five. Sheeiit! I still got too much kickin’ it to do.”

  I noted that the more Kandice talked, the more comfortable she became. There was a realness about her that she hadn’t shown before. It was so refreshing!

  “Girl! And that’s how I used to feel, until I just started listening to everybody else and subscribing to the bullsh . . .” I cut myself off before saying the whole cuss word.

  “The bullshit. You can say it. You’ll get to know me better, girl. You don’t have to censor yourself with me. And I get it. You felt like letting loose one more time before you got married, but in the end, you were probably happy that you gave yourself an out. Because it doesn’t really sound like you wanted that whole marriage thing just yet.”

  I inhaled a pocket of air and then released it. This conversation was the therapy I needed. Even though Brianna and I were back talking, there were still pieces of the conversation I didn’t have with her. Not about all my inner feelings were. Why, I didn’t know. But it was a relief being able to do it now.

  “I needed this talk. Thank you. I’d gotten so comfortable in that place, that I didn’t stop to think about everything. His family didn’t even like me. The two main women in his life, at that. I loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him. I cried when it was all said and done, but not because I lost him or missed out on the dream of a wedding. It was because I knew that I’d gone through it for a reason—to see that I didn’t need to rush life. That I didn’t need to take the first offer of marriage—from the first man to offer it.”

  Kandi looked down at her vibrating cell. “Exactly. Now, look. I have to go and get these numbers straight that I took a break from. I’m glad you’re good. I’m glad that we got to know each other a little bit better. And I’m hoping you’ll come to this party with me this weekend.”

  “I need a party,” I told her without giving it a second thought. “So, count me in!”

  -53-

  MARCO

  I had been under my rainfall forever. While standing underneath the downpour of hot water, I came to appreciate the design of my stall eve
n more. When I first got my house, enhancements to the master bath wasn’t an interest of mine. All I really cared about were my bedroom and getting the lower-level together for a mancave. But the chick who designed the house snuck one up on me when she sent me pictures of bathroom models, with the shower water falling from the ceiling.

  The one she wanted me to get was amazing. I mean, you literally walked up to that fucker and turned on the water, without stepping over anything! But something about that felt weird as fuck. So, I ended up with a large glass enclosure that had a black marble bench in the corner. When it was finally done, I spent so much time in there I couldn’t believe I fought it so goddamn hard.

  And now I was glad, that in that moment, I let somebody else take control because I was convinced that nothing felt as good, as what that water was doing to my body. It was soothing, and felt like a water massage. As good as it felt, though, I knew it was time to hurry and get out when I felt the effects of my pain meds creeping up. I stepped to the side of the downpour and washed my hair for the finale.

  When I emerged, I dried off and then unpackaged the kit I was given at the hospital. I went to the mirror and stood at an angle where I could see my wound. It was healing nicely. The slash itself, was about four inches long; depth, I wasn’t sure about. I couldn’t tell if they stuck me and then dragged the knife downward or if the weapon’s blade was just that goddamn big. But looking at it, made me want to find the motherfucker myself, and do grave damage to them.

  I was stabbed in my upper back, a few inches below my shoulder blade. Shit could’ve been a lot worse, but because there was so much muscle there, I was spared from greater damage. I had never had anyone target me like that. I had been in my share of fights behind whatever—jealousy, girls—whatever. But to be hunted on the street. Shit was new. And for it to happen in my back told me it was a fucking coward. I stopped staring at my wound because I was getting wound up, when all I wanted to do was relax to some music.