So You Call Yourself a Man

by Carl Weber

  “I know. I was looking them up on the Net. But they’re expensive. I don’t have any cash to spare right now, and I’m not getting one from the court or worse, on one of those talk shows. You know that’s how Michelle found out her boyfriend wasn’t Marcus’s father? She went on the Two Sides to Every Story show.”

  “Get the fuck outta here. She went on TV and got caught out there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Dammmmn, now that’s what I call triflin’.”

  “Don’t I know it?”

  “Speaking of triflin’, where is his mother? Why you got him so early in the morning, anyway?”

  “She had to work some mandatory overtime, so I had to keep him this morning.” James sighed. “I’m supposed to take him to her after I drop you at the airport.”

  “I gotta give you credit, brother. Ain’t no way I’m getting outta bed to go across Queens to get him, then come back across Queens over here to Long Island to pick me up, then go back across Queens to LaGuardia Airport.”

  “I didn’t have to go across Queens to get him. I had him last night too.” James’s voice went low, as if he really didn’t want me to hear his explanation, but I heard every word.

  “What?” I was in disbelief. “You bullshitting me. How’d you get away with that? I know you didn’t bring him home.”

  “Hell, no. Are you crazy? I spent the night at Michelle’s house.”

  “And Cathy didn’t say anything?”

  “Nope. She thought I was out with you last night. And around three, when Michelle called talking that mandatory overtime crap, I called and told Cathy I was over here and I was too drunk to drive home. I needed her to pick me up. She wasn’t about to get out the bed, get the kids dressed, and come get me. I’m safe as long as I get my ass home before the boys’ baseball games at noon.”

  “Man, you got some shit with you.” I laughed.

  “It ain’t like I wanna lie to my wife, Sonny. I just think I would hurt her more if I told her the truth.”

  “I hear you, man. What she don’t know won’t hurt her.”

  “Exactly. I’m just afraid of the day she finds out the truth.”

  “I’m afraid for you,” I chimed in.

  He glanced at his watch. “Look, not to change the subject, but it’s getting late. We keep putt-putting around and we’re not gonna be able to stop for breakfast, and Marcus and I haven’t eaten.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “So, you ready to go?” I nodded and he opened the sliding glass door to tell Marcus to come inside.

  “Why don’t you put my bag in the car? I just have to call my wife and let her know I’m on my way to the airport.” I pointed at my luggage, but James didn’t move. “What?” I asked.

  “You one henpecked dude, you know that?” He picked up my bag and headed for the door, followed closely by Marcus. “I’ll meet you in the car. Come on, Marcus.”

  I ignored him, reaching for my phone and dialing my home number.

  “The number you have dialed is not in service. No further information is available,” a recording informed me.

  “What the fuck you mean, no further information is available? That’s my fucking home phone. Somebody’s gonna tell me something,” I cursed. I dialed the number again, this time using speed dial. I was hoping I’d made a mistake when I punched in the number.

  “The number you have dialed is not in service. No further…” This time, I didn’t let the recording finish. What the hell was going on? It was impossible that our phone could be disconnected. I gave Jessica all the household bills to pay right before I left two weeks ago.

  I was starting to get a little angry at Jessica, but then I cooled down. It was my fault for not putting the bills in the mail in the first place. The frustrating part was that it was only six in the morning on the West Coast, and the telephone company wasn’t going to be open for another three and a half hours. Jessica would probably go crazy if she couldn’t contact me before I got on the plane.

  “Hey, Sonny?” James yelled. “You got a delivery man.” I walked outside, still confused over the phone call, to see a uniformed man standing in the driveway.

  “Is this 44 Lawrence Street?” he asked.

  “Yeah, it is, but I’m not expecting any packages.”

  He looked down at his clipboard. “Does Sonny Harrison live here?”

  “I’m Sonny Harrison.”

  “Well, then I have some packages for you. Where should I put them?”

  “I don’t know. Bring them inside,” I told him, then looked to the sidewalk, where I saw a half-dozen large cardboard boxes. As I watched him carry them into the house, I wracked my brain, but couldn’t think of any explanation for what could be in these boxes.

  I checked the return address on one of the labels: SONNY HARRISON, 44 LAWRENCE STREET, ELMONT, NEW YORK.

  “Hey,” I called to the driver, “I didn’t send anything to myself.”

  “Sir, I just bring the boxes to the address on the label,” he answered without turning to face me. He was too busy unloading another five boxes from his truck.

  After he left, James came in the house. He must have strapped Marcus in his car seat because the boy wasn’t following behind him this time.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “Yeah, just give me one second. I wanna see what’s in these boxes.” I tore open the first box. My computer equipment was neatly packed in this one. Perhaps Jessica was sending some of our stuff ahead so we wouldn’t have the truck so loaded down when we made the move from Seattle. That was smart, I decided, but I was still going to get on her about the phone not being paid.

  There was a letter taped to one of the boxes. I ripped it off, thinking I would read it at the airport since we were starting to run a little late, but something made me open it. My heart nearly stopped when I read the enclosed letter.

  Dear Sonny,

  I packed up all your stuff and put it into these boxes, so there’s no need for you to get on a plane to come back to Seattle. And if you do, that’s on you, because there’s nothing here for you. Me and the kids are gone. I know what you’re thinking. Why is she doing this to me? But deep down inside, you know exactly why I’m doing this. You need to learn how to treat a woman, Sonny, and stop taking advice from those low-rent friends of yours. I hope you enjoy being back in New York with your friends. The three of you deserve each other.

  Please don’t try to find us, Sonny. We’re moving on with our lives. And if you don’t understand what that means, let me make it very clear: It’s over. I don’t love you. I haven’t in years. I was just playing along until I could have my freedom.

  Your ex-wife, Jessica

  P.S. I sold the car and took all the money out of the bank, so there is really no need for you to come back.

  “Oh, no, not my ’Vette,” I mumbled.

  “Sonny, what’s the matter?” I could hear James’s words, but I couldn’t answer as I read the letter again. I think I was in shock. This shit had to be a joke of some kind. “Sonny, what’s the matter?” This time James was shouting.

  I handed him the letter, then ran to the front door. Jessica was probably playing a trick on me. She probably flew in this morning and was waiting outside the house to surprise me. Knowing James and Brent, they were probably in on it. But when I looked outside, nobody was there. I pulled my cell phone out and dialed my home number. I got that stupid recording again and almost threw my phone across the room.

  “She can’t do this to me, James. She can’t just up and leave me and take away my kids.”

  His response was anything but supportive. “I told you she wasn’t no good. She’s been a gold-digger since you met her. And who the hell she think she’s calling low-rent?”

  “No, man. It’s got to be a mistake. I gotta get home. Somebody could have kidnapped her or something.”

  “Sonny, be real. Do you think a kidnapper would take the time to pack up all your shit and mail it to you? She probably had some other ma
n on the side the whole time. Just was waiting for you to leave so she could make her move.”

  I wanted to grab him by the head and scream, “Nooooooo!” at the top of my lungs, but instead I said, “James, she’s never cheated on me. I’m sure of that. And there is no other man, aw’ight?”

  “But—”

  “James, I don’t wanna hear it, okay? Just take me to the airport.”

  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  16

  Brent

  Alison and I left Paradise Island more in love and devoted to each other than when we arrived. I’d never enjoyed a vacation as much as I enjoyed my honeymoon. We’d been close before our marriage, but now our relationship was more tightly bonded on a spiritual and emotional level. We prayed together, ate together, slept together, and woke up to pray again together. I’d never felt closer to anyone than I did to her, and that included my boys, Sonny and James. She was no longer just my girlfriend or even my wife, she was my new best friend, and we had no secrets—except for the one I kept. And as far as that was concerned, I made a promise to God that I would not break my marriage vows and fall into the temptation of lust with Jackie Moss or any other vixen who might try to come between me and my wife.

  But promises to God or not, the devil was always going to throw out his temptations, and I was going to have to be strong. I once read somewhere that the road to hell is paved in acid-laced roses, very appealing to the eyes and nose, but as dangerous to the touch as a cobra’s bite. Well, that was the first thing I thought of when Alison and I stepped into the baggage claim area of LaGuardia Airport, and instead of the bishop and the first lady being there to pick us up, it was Jackie Moss standing by the carousel in front of a baggage cart. The first word that flashed across my mind was Trouble, and that was Trouble with a capital T. Jackie was looking sexy as hell in a navy-blue pinstriped suit and a tight-fitting, pale-blue designer shirt. It took all the resolve I had not to think naughty thoughts.

  “Hey, Jackie, it’s good to see you.” Alison grinned, wrapping her arms around our church organist. Jackie did the same to Alison, winking at me over my wife’s shoulder. I didn’t say anything, just stared, hoping Jackie could somehow read my thoughts of contempt.

  “It’s good to see you too, Alison. How was your trip?”

  Alison gave Jackie a smile and an exaggerated sigh. “Ohhh, Lawd, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a beautiful place. It was like heaven on earth, simply magnificent. Oh, and the company wasn’t bad either, if you know what I mean.” Alison nudged Jackie with her elbow.

  “Well, good, good.” Jackie’s attention turned to me. “How about you, Brother Williams? Did you enjoy your honeymoon?”

  I wrapped my arm around my wife. “I don’t think I could have gone with anyone else and had such a good time.” I bent down and kissed my wife, making sure my lips locked with hers longer than our usual peck. When I broke the kiss, Jackie was looking in the opposite direction. Hopefully that would get my message across.

  “So, where are the bishop and first lady? I thought they were picking us up.”

  “The bishop couldn’t make it, so I volunteered to pick you up.” I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to shake my head at Jackie’s nonsense. I had a bad feeling about this because I couldn’t remember Jackie volunteering for anything at church.

  “Everything all right?” Alison asked.

  “Ms. Alison, I’ve got some bad news.” Jackie paused, and I wasn’t sure if it was for dramatic effect or if things were really that bad. “First Lady Wilson is in the hospital. The bishop took her in the other day because she’d been having some pain in her lower abdomen, and they had to keep her. It doesn’t look good.”

  Alison put her hand over her heart and gasped. “Oh, my Lawd! What do you mean, it doesn’t look good?”

  Once again, with all the thespian flair of a Shakespearean performer, Jackie’s green eyes rolled back, head shaking in pity. “Cancer…The first lady has pancreatic cancer. She’s going to die, Ms. Alison. The doctors say she only has about six months to live.”

  Alison threw her hands up in the air, closing her fist, as if imploring God to turn back the angel of death. She and Charlene Wilson were thick as thieves, and I’m sure this news must have hurt like it was her own sister. I couldn’t imagine how I would feel if I’d just gotten the news that James or Sonny were stricken with cancer. Knowing me, I’d probably fall to my knees and beg the Lord to take me instead of them.

  “You all right, baby?” I soothed her, easing my arm around her shoulder. I held my wife tightly as she broke down and wept. Jackie was studying my face each time I looked over Alison’s shoulder. I tried to ignore the stares, but I was drawn to those green eyes as I tended to my distraught wife. “Baby, it’s going to be all right.”

  “I need to go to the hospital,” Alison insisted. “I’ve got to see Charlene. I’ve got to be there for her, Brent. She’s always been there for me.”

  “I know you do, honey. As soon as we get home, I’m going to drive you over there. What hospital is she at, Jackie?”

  “She’s at Saint Joseph’s. It’s on the way to your house. Why don’t I drop you over there now, Ms. Alison? Then I can drop Brother Williams off at your house with your bags. He can get his car and come back and get you later. That way you can spend more time with the first lady.”

  Alison nodded her head, looking up at me. “That makes a lot of sense. What do you think, Brent?”

  What I thought was just what I suspected in the first place, that this whole thing was all a ruse for Jackie to spend some time alone with me. It angered me that Jackie would purposely put me in this position, and trust me, it was done purposely.

  “I don’t know, Alison. We don’t wanna put Jackie out. Why don’t we just go home and I’ll take you to the hospital?”

  Jackie flashed me a coy smile. “Nonsense. You’re not putting me out at all. It’s times like this that we have to help each other. That’s what being good Christians is all about. Isn’t that right, Ms. Alison?”

  “Mm-hmm. Jackie’s right, Brent.” Alison was giving me little or no recourse. So on that note, it was settled. I just hoped my wife—and I, for that matter—didn’t live to regret it, because Jackie was like the apple the serpent offered Adam and Eve—so tempting, yet one taste could destroy everything.

  It didn’t take long for us to get our bags and find Jackie’s Lincoln Continental in the airport parking lot. I opened the front door for Alison to get in, but Jackie put a quick halt to that by opening the rear passenger-side door.

  “Why don’t you sit in the front, Brother Williams? You’re going to be sitting there once we drop Ms. Alison off at the hospital anyway. No need to be moving around like we’re playing musical chairs.” Jackie turned to my wife, politely blocking her way to the front of the car. “Don’t you think that makes sense, Ms. Alison?”

  Alison shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter to me. I just want to get to the hospital and see Charlene.”

  “That’s the most important thing, isn’t it?” Jackie smiled, ushering her into the backseat and shutting the door.

  I glanced at Jackie, who was now walking around the car to the driver’s side. What the hell are you up to? I thought as our eyes locked. I hated moments like this because somehow Jackie always managed to make me smile. It was those eyes, those damn beautiful green eyes. They were the reason for my weakness. Whenever I looked in those eyes, I just couldn’t be mad at Jackie anymore, but that still didn’t mean I was going to break my marriage vows.

  I got in the car and Jackie followed suit. Five minutes later, we were on the Grand Central Parkway, and I was nodding my head and clapping my hands as I sang along with Kirk Franklin’s new CD. I loved me some Kirk Franklin. Unfortunately, I must have been so into his music that I didn’t notice Jackie’s spider-like fingers inching their way across my seat and into my lap. When I did realize what was going on, I immediately took hold of Jackie’s hand and removed it fro
m my crotch. I glanced at my wife, who didn’t seem to notice what had happened because of the large luxury seats of the Lincoln Continental. This only brought a smile to Jackie’s face, who tried it again.

  “Will you stop it?” I shouted. I swatted Jackie’s hand so hard that it made a loud smacking sound.

  Jackie yelped. “Ouch!”

  “What happened?” Alison sat up and looked over the seat. I didn’t say a word, but Jackie’s quick thinking saved the day.

  “Your husband had the nerve to smack my hand because I was trying to change the CD.”

  I turned toward my wife and Alison glared at me, looking embarrassed. “Brent, you know better than that. You’re a grown man, and this is not your car, and that is not your CD player.”

  “It’s okay, Ms. Alison. If he likes the CD so much, he can have it.” Jackie flashed a grin at my wife and I lowered my head. I didn’t think it was possible, but Jackie was making me sick. Thank the Lord that a few minutes later we pulled in front of the hospital.

  I got out of the car and opened the door for Alison. She gave me a peck on the lips and I told her I would be back shortly. When she was out of sight, I stuck my head into the car and told Jackie I needed to get something out of my bag in the trunk.

  Jackie popped the trunk, then stepped out of the car. I took all our bags out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m catching a cab home.”

  Jackie frowned. “What? Why?”

  “You know why, and you know what you’re doing.”

  “Oh, what am I doing?” Jackie asked in a mocking tone, looking down at my crotch.

  “You just don’t get it, do you? I love my wife.” I started walking toward a cab that was letting off some passengers.