Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game

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Tale of the Tigers: Love is Not a Game Page 17

by Juliette Akinyi Ochieng


  library door.

  Stopping for a second on the steps, she did a quick scan of the surrounding area, mentally planning her route to her car.

  Just as she stepped onto the walkway, she noticed a tall, dark and familiar figure out of the corner of her eye, coming out of the library. She turned around.

  “Malik! Thank goodness. I didn’t see you in the library.”

  “Yes, I know. Fine women are always glad to see me,” he grinned. “Besides, us jocks gotta hit the books for finals, too. What you doin’ out so late, girl? Kevin’s gonna whip your behind for worryin’ him.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, so he won’t. But I bet your parents will.”

  “Uh...maybe. Anyway I’m glad to see you. You can walk me to my car, pretty please?”

  “Oh, I love it when women beg.”

  She playfully pushed him.

  “Sir Malik Hayes at your service. Always happy to assist a damsel in distress.” He gave her a courtly bow.

  They walked in friendly silence for a few seconds. It was a beautiful, cool, clear night, contrasting the relentless June heat of the day. Felice was just beginning to think of Albuquerque as her home. She looked up at the sky,

  marveling at the myriad stars. This was one of the many advantages, she was discovering, to living here. She had never seen so many stars when living in L.A. She turned and looked at Malik. He seemed to be enjoying the desert climate also.

  “Sure isn’t like L.A. here, is it, little girl?

  “Nor like Detroit, I imagine.”

  “Hell, no. In Detroit, you’d have to wear a flak jacket to school.”

  “In L.A., you’d wear one of those, too, along with a gas mask.”

  “So, you and White Lightnin’ are gonna take the plunge, eh?”

  “Yep.” She smiled in wonder that it was really going to happen. “I guess we’ll invite you.”

  “You better get with the program, girl. I am the best man. I might even push your pops out the way and give away the bride.”

  “Yeah, okay. Daddy was a defensive back in college. He might have slowed down a step or two since then, but I bet he could probably still give a good hit or two to some scrawny little receiver like you, given a good reason.”

  “Maybe so, but he’s gotta catch me first. Anyway, there’s gonna be a whole lotta white girls cryin’ on that day.”

  “Hey, that’s not my problem. They had their chance.”

  “A few brothas’ll be cryin’, too.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Sure they will.” He grinned at her. “Like me, for instance. You know if Kev wasn’t my boy, I’da taken you away from him by now.”

  “Nah. It would have been too much like incest.”

  “Now I know I’m slippin’ when a fine woman thinks of me as her brother! Are you going to invite Amanda?”

  “Why not? She’s chilled out a lot. I had a great time when the four of us went out. I guess you two have become pretty good friends.” She grinned at him.

  “I guess.” Malik paused for a second then grew serious.

  “Felice--change of subject. I have to tell you something and you’re not going to like it.”

  “Please don’t confess your undying love for me, Malik. It might complicate the wedding a little.”

  “I’m the one who told Kevin about your...reputation. It was before I knew you and found out how cool you were.” Malik began to speak quickly and desperately. “You and Kevin didn’t even know each other then! I had heard it from some of them tired Taus. I didn’t mean any harm! I...”

  “Malik, Malik! Stop. I already knew this.”

  His eyes widened. “You did?”

  “Well, I didn’t know for sure, but I could figure it out. When I used to see you in the African Cultural Center, you’d be with them....”

  “Not with them.”

  “Okay, talking to them sometimes. I put two and two together.”

  “So...how come you’ve always been so nice to me?”

  She looked over at him solemnly but confidently. The words, which had been rolling around in her head for some months now, flowed easily.

  “Let me explain something to you. What I did, I did because I made bad decisions. No one put a gun to my head and made those decisions for me. My parents have told me for years that when a person does something, good or bad, that person has to live with the consequences of whatever they did, whether they’re good consequences or bad ones. I didn’t really listen when they were telling me this. I had to knock my head against a brick wall to learn that lesson. My bad decisions resulted in me gaining a reputation as a ‘ho.’

  My good decisions resulted in me staying in school in spite of that and gaining Kevin as my fiancé and you as my friend.”

  “Oh.” Malik thought for a second. “Hold up! A minute ago I was your brother!”

  “You’re that, too.” She grabbed his arm and stood on tip-toes to give him a peck on the cheek. Malik’s caramel-colored face reddened slightly.

  “You better stop that,” he said with slanted grin. “Folks might see you kiss me and start sayin’ that you going to be practicin’ a little double husbandry.”

  She burst out laughing. “Screw folks.’”

  “Watch your mouth, girl! Who’s gonna be your maid of honor? Is it gonna be that big, fine Adrienne? She can wrap those dreads around me anytime! Hmm, I can’t wait!”

  “I’m going to tell Mandy what you just said.”

  “No...no please?”

  Felice laughed. They continued on their way, with Malik chattering his usual stream of comedy, punctuated by Felice’s laughter.

  The secluded area that Felice had feared walking through, a small cul-de-sac bordering the parking structure, was about a hundred feet away, but it seemed that several people were in there. Both Felice and Malik stopped talking because they heard a familiar voice.

  They rounded the corner in time to see Kevin surrounded by five men. One was about five feet away from Kevin and pointing a gun directly at his head. Malik was immediately on the dead run just as the gun went off.

  Tale of the Tigers

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kevin was heading toward the parking lot, his mind swirling with all of what had become his life, his wonderful life. He was finally graduating with a degree in business. He was going to marry a beautiful, intelligent woman whom he loved and who loved him. And to top it off, he had a career that he loved and would get rich on.

  The representatives of several NFL teams pursued him relentlessly, pressuring him to make that final decision. Which team would he choose? So many offers to choose from; how could anyone possibly choose?

  He would meet tomorrow for dinner with a representative for the New Orleans Saints. As always, his

  father would accompany them. Boy, was it nice to have a father who was a lawyer, Kevin thought. It takes a shark to know a shark. Herbert’s soft, easy manner hid his steely determination. The word was out now among NFL scouts and sports agents. When dealing with Kevin Hart, watch out for the Old Man.

  What had he done for his life to be so wonderful? He had a beautiful fiancée that he loved and liked. He looked forward to having a job that he loved doing. One of his father’s friends, an Air Force fighter pilot, had told him when he was a boy, that the only jobs worth having were rock-and-­roll star, movie star, professional athlete or an Air Force fighter pilot. “Or a lawyer,” his father had added hopefully. Well, he had one of those jobs.

  Kevin didn’t know what he might do after football. All he knew is that God had given him the best life in the world and that he would do his best to make the most of it.

  With his head spinning with his great good fortune, he paid no attention as he walked into the false cul-de-sac that led into the parking structure. Hearing the murmuring of several deep voices, he looked up. There were five black men standing in front of him. He recognized a couple of them. They were from that Tau Sigma Pi fraternity. He rememb
ered

  a couple of them from the dinner. Some of them had been the ones who had forced him out of the back door of the dinner hall and tried to tell him why he shouldn’t have been at the dinner with Felice. He fractionally relaxed. These guys were students. They might want to do a little intimidation but no real harm. Then he remembered what Felice had told him about their confrontation with Adrienne.

  Kevin steeled himself, and then nodded his head in greeting at a couple of them. He got no response, but it seemed as though they would let him pass. Then one moved to block his progress.

  “Hey, ain’t you that white punk that likes himself a little black pussy?” sneered a voice behind him.

  “Well he sure don’t like it fresh, because that one’s been used a bunch of times,” said another at his back.

  “Ain’t that damn good, either. I guess you white boys like fourth-hand goods.”

  Kevin turned around to look at the four behind him.

  “Nice to see you fellas again. In my experience, a woman is only as good as the man she’s with,” he said, remembering his father’s words to him. “If she’s got one who knows what he’s doing and who cares about her, she’ll be the best thing a man’s ever had. Guess you guys didn’t know which buttons to push.” Kevin smirked.

  “A woman’s got three buttons. I will do y’all a favor, not that you deserve it, but I will. I’ll tell you where the two main buttons on a woman are. They’re here and here.” He pointed at his head and his chest.

  “Once you realize what’s going on in those two places, that third button is a cinch. You guys must not be too bright. A couple of you had a brilliant and beautiful woman with a good heart and you used her for a mattress tag. Just because you didn’t realize what you had, don’t blame me.”

  Kevin turned back to the man blocking his way. What was his name? Kevin racked his brain; Trevor--one of the ones who had been with Felice.

  “So, what now?” He said to the man, obviously the leader.

  “What happens now is this,” said Trevor. “Apparently, you don’t understand talk, so we’ll make you understand that you have no right to disrespect black men in public, nor do you have the right to take our women for yourself.”

  Kevin was astounded.

  “Your women? You treat her like crap, turn her name to mud all over this campus, but now all of a sudden she’s yours? Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t they outlaw slavery in this country about one hundred thirty years ago?”

  “Do not take your ancestors’ dirty deeds and twist them to suit your own purposes. We are not like you!” Trevor’s teeth were clenched. “Even if none of us want her, she should be with an appropriate man--a black man.”

  “Yeah, she tried that, but you screwed that up for her, too. I know all about it.”

  “It would be better for her to be alone for the rest of her life than with one of the children of slave-owners.”

  “So now you, someone who doesn’t give one damn about her, are going to decide how she should run her life. Sounds like slavery to me.”

  Kevin felt the wind of swift movement and heard the unmistakable ‘click’ of a cocked revolver behind him. He whirled around. The first man that had spoken to him was holding a gun pointed directly at his head.

  “Didn’t my big brother tell you?” yelled the man. “Do not twist our words or our actions and make us like you! You are the devil, the white enemy! You are the one that deserves to die!”

  Kevin looked at the man’s eyes, then at his gun. Here was a factor he had never considered when he first noticed the fraternity brothers, nor at anytime during their conversation. They were going to kill him. They had planned

  it, laid in wait and now, they were ready to execute their plan and him. Kevin decided that he wasn’t afraid. His life had been short, but it had been everything that anyone could ask for. He found himself thinking of God and became calm.

  In his unruffled state, he was able to take his eyes off of the man with the gun and look at the other three men in front of him. He now saw clearly that the plan hadn’t been to kill him, for all three had expressions of shock and fear on their faces.

  “Don’t do it, man,” said one. “They’ll put us all in jail forever! This one isn’t the one! Let him have Felice if he wants!”

  “‘Dre,” said a stunned and trembling voice behind Kevin. “Little Brother, this isn’t what we wanted. We want to teach him a lesson, make him understand, but not kill him. He can’t understand if he’s dead.”

  Trevor stepped out from behind Kevin and approached the gunman.

  “You’re right, Little Brother,” he said. “We are not like him or his kind. We may debate, demand, or even explain with force, but we aren’t murderers.” His voice was soft and pleading. To Kevin, he seemed to be almost in tears. Trevor stopped at the gunman’s side.

  “Little Brother, I love you. I don’t want to see you go to prison or get a death sentence.” Trevor was almost whispering into the man’s ear. “There are far too many of us there already. Think, Little Brother.” Andre began to lower the weapon.

  Then Kevin, in his fearless state, made a mistake. He spoke to the man.

  “If you kill me, you won’t hurt me. You’ll hurt the people that love me, yes; my father and my girl. But, the person you’ll hurt the most is yourself.”

  “Shut up, white punk!” Andre raised the weapon again. “I don’t care about your devil-father or your race-traitor bitch! It will be worth it to go to prison if I can send you to Hell!” Then, just as Trevor grabbed his shooting arm, he fired.

  For an instant, Malik halted in his tracks, his eyes wide with disbelief as he watched his friend fall. Then, he rushed Andre Carter, tackling him using his football expertise. The gun went flying, clattering on the concrete. Malik, who hadn’t been in a fistfight since his early high school years, got up with Andre’s collar in his hand and began to pummel and curse the man as tears streamed down his own face. Andre’s fraternity brothers made no move to assist their comrade.

  Felice’s backpack lay on the ground behind her. When the gun had been fired, it seemed as though all time had stopped for her. She stood, unmoving, in one spot as if rooted there. She had turned to stone.

  She was only dimly aware of the commotion around her. Her eyes were fixed on Kevin, his long body lying prone on the concrete with a pool of blood spreading beneath it.

  Tale of the Tigers

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tom Wade’s mind was on automatic as he patrolled the first floor of Parking Structure A. His wife would probably have chicken made, ready for him to microwave as soon as he got home after his shift ended at twelve. He hated working the late shift, mostly because it was so boring. There was no one to talk to, no students hustling their way to class, no pretty, young girls to ogle. The few cars that were still there

  would likely be there for the night.

  However, this state of events would change in the summer session. Tom had managed to trade shifts with a young single, guy. He would be able to spend more time with his family, be there when his son got home from school, be there to eat dinner with his wife, be there to check out the TV shows they were always talking about, and be there for Major League Baseball.

  But, most of all, he could have a little excitement at work. It was June and the coeds were wearing their shorts, halters, and mini-skirts. A little visual stimulation never hurt anyone.

  He looked at his watch. It was ten-ten PM. Another hour and fifty minutes left on his shift, just four more boring patrols around the structure and he’d be done. As he passed the west exit, he thought he heard soft murmuring. Slightly tensed, he glanced through the egress, but in the darkness, he could see no one, nor detect any movement. You ain’t but thirty-five, he chuckled to himself. You’re way too young to be imagining things.

  He headed toward the stairs to patrol the second floor. Just as he made it to the top of the first flight of stairs, the

  unmistakable sound of a high-caliber wea
pon assaulted his infantry-trained ears. He whirled around, nearly leaping to the bottom of the stairs. Then he remembered that he wasn’t carrying a firearm. None of the campus security did. At a campus in a relatively crime-free city, the security management hadn’t deemed it necessary.

  A lot they knew.

  Tom inched his way up to the entrance as his infantry training kicked in like an old, forgotten instinct. Suddenly, on this relatively cool night, he was drenched with sweat. He hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t be able to smell him.

  There was a trashcan close to the exit that he used for cover. This was one of the few times that he was happy to be a short, slight man. He could fit his body easily behind the trashcan and slip out to hide behind the one that was right outside the building. Crawling on the ground, as he had done in the verdant green of Germany’s Black Forest and of Grenada, he made his way outside.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to make out the forms of five people. Blacks. No wonder he hadn’t been able to see them when he had looked out the doorway.

  Niggers always mean trouble, he thought as he tried to see more.

  After the Army, he had moved his family to Albuquerque, a city that didn’t have too many niggers. A situation like this was proof that it only took a few of them to cause trouble.

  Tom was beginning to be able to make out more details. One of them was a woman. She appeared to be just standing there. She was standing so still that, if Tom hadn’t known the layout of the campus so well, he would have thought she was one of the statues erected to depict NMU’s founders. She seemed to have her attention fixed on something on the ground.

  The others were not quite so stationary. Their attention was directed at a commotion between yet two other people. One was beating up another one.

 

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