by RM Johnson
“What is your son’s name?” Asha asked, softly.
“Kyle.”
“And who is Deric?”
“He’s the man I live with, the man Kyle thinks is his father.” Angie glanced over at Asha, but Asha looked away from her at that moment.
“So what’s going on with that?” Asha asked, sounding a bit jealous.
“He’s a friend, someone who used to work near me, and needed a place to stay,” Angie said, in a tone that suggested there was nothing to be concerned about. Angie brought the car to a stop at a red light and felt Asha’s eyes on her.
“Do you love him?”
Angie turned to her and said sincerely, “That’s not really important. He’s a father figure to my son, and a respectable representation of what people think my life should be like. Okay?” Angie gave Asha a slight smile, which Asha tried to return but couldn’t.
“Anyway, on the way home, Kyle wasn’t his normally cheery self. When I got him home, it took me half an hour and eight cookies to get him to tell me that some bigger boy was picking on him. I did what I could to cheer him up, said what I knew about situations like this, which was nothing at all. Needless to say, he remained depressed for the rest of the evening. When Deric came in, I told him what was going on. He told me don’t worry about it. Then he walked over to Kyle, said, ‘Come here, Cowboy.’ We call him Cowboy. He threw him on his shoulders and walked him upstairs. ‘So, I hear some kid’s been messin’ with you, hunh?’ I heard him say as they climbed the stairs. When they came down a little while later, Kyle was his happy self again.
“Mommy, look what Daddy showed me,” Kyle said, and Deric threw up both his palms, and Kyle went to attacking them like a little Mike Tyson. They both looked so happy,” Angie said, a smile on her face, still staring out the windshield.
“Deric, because he was able to help Kyle, and Kyle because he had Deric there to help him.”
Asha sat up in her seat, and the content smile on Angie’s face made her afraid to ask her question, but she did anyway. “Why are you telling me this?”
The smile fell from Angie’s lips, and she turned toward Asha.
“Because I can’t do this with you anymore, Asha. There are things that my son needs, that I can’t always give him, and that another woman wouldn’t be able to give him either. He needs a man in his life. He has one, and what kind of mother would I be to take that away from him?”
Asha couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It had to be a dream, a nightmare of some sort, for her to lose her best friend, her fiancée, and the woman she had fallen in love with all in a matter of a few days. It just couldn’t be.
“No,” Asha said, shaking her head, then lowering her face into her hands. “No. You’re the one who brought me into this. You’re the one who made the move on me, convinced me to let go, and now you’re telling me you can’t do it. No. I can’t hear this,” Asha said, raising her voice.
“Asha, calm down,” Angie said.
“I won’t calm down! Do you know what I sacrificed for this, for you? Angie, I love you. Did you know that?”
Angie just looked at Asha, not speaking.
“Did you know that I love you, Angie? Yes, or no. Answer the question.”
“Yeah. You told me you did.”
“And what? That doesn’t mean a damn thing to you?”
“Asha. It means something. I just have to put my son first. Deric is an important part of his life.”
“Is Deric an important part of your life?” Asha asked.
“Yes. He is.”
“Do you love him?”
“That’s not what’s important here.”
“I see. So you’re letting me go for a man you don’t love, but who’s important in your son’s life,” Asha said, wiping a tear away from her cheek that had fallen.
“That’s right, because I love my son.”
“And I’m sure he loves you too. But I wonder would he like to know that you stayed with someone you didn’t love for his sake, when you could’ve been with someone you really did love.”
“But he loves that man. Deric makes him happy,” Angie said, fighting with her emotions.
“And is that the only thing that’s important. Kyle would love anyone you love, don’t you know that?” Asha said, taking one of Angie’s hands in hers. “I know it seems right to have that man raising your son, but don’t you think sooner or later he’s going to realize that you aren’t happy?”
“His happiness is worth the sacrifice,” Angie said, looking away from Asha.
“Do you love me?”
Angie pulled off the road and stopped the car, still averting her eyes, not answering.
“Angie, just tell me. Do you love me?”
Angie slowly turned her face to Asha. There were tears streaming down Asha’s cheeks.
“Yeah. I think I do love you,” Angie said, managing to keep her own tears from falling.
“And you still want to end this with me?”
It took a moment for Angie to answer, but she simply said, “Yes.”
More tears seemed to roll from Asha’s eyes. With both her hands, she brought Angie’s hand up to her lips and kissed it. “Then I should be going,” Asha said, only able to look into Angie’s eyes for a second, before pushing her way out the car, and walking away. Angie watched her go, and finally a single tear fell.
33
Yesterday evening, after leaving my place, I drove back over toward Gary’s house. I parked two houses down, sitting there in my car, the music low, the windows rolled down, because it was a particularly warm evening. It was half past six, and I didn’t know if he had already come home from work or not, but I was hoping that he hadn’t. Lottie already knew my face, so I had to catch him before he got to the front door.
I was sitting out in my car for almost an hour, ready to start the engine and drive off, when I saw their front door open. I ducked some behind the steering wheel, trying not to be seen, but slowly raised my head, when I saw two boys, somewhere between the ages of eight and twelve bound out the door, onto the front lawn, tossing a football back and forth.
They threw the ball four or five times, when the door opened again, and this time it was their father who came out. He was still wearing his white-collared shirt, obviously from work, but he had taken off the tie, unbuttoned it some, and had thrown on a pair of old jeans, the shirt halfway tucked in.
“Throw me the ball,” he said, running out across the neighbor’s lawn. The older son threw him the ball. He caught it and walked back toward them smiling. He rubbed both his sons on the head, and told them to run out for a pass.
They ran as fast as they could, jostling for position, smiling and laughing back at their dad. What a picture perfect scene this would’ve been, I thought, if their father wasn’t into ruining the lives of other people by fucking the women they loved.
I watched that man play loving father and devoted husband, watched him laughing, wrestling with his sons, watched him as he looked into their faces with pride, and how I hated him at that moment.
He had such a wonderful life, or so it looked to me, but this wasn’t enough for him. He had to have more. And what he’d decided to take was mine. He was wrong about that, and he had to pay, I thought, as I stepped out of my car and started to walk toward the house.
Gary had overthrown the ball to his younger son, it dropped ten or so feet in front of him, rolled some, and landed at my feet. I bent down and picked it up, and held it till his son came to take it from me. When he grabbed for it, I wouldn’t let it go, and said, “What do you say?” in an overly nice, sing-songy voice.
“May I have my ball, please?” the boy said.
“That’s right. Yes, you may,” I said, handing him the ball.
“Thank you, mister,” the boy said. I noticed he was missing his two front teeth.
“You’re very welcome,” I smiled and rubbed him on the head like his father had done. When I looked up, I noticed there was something near w
orry on his father’s face.
I raised my hand to wave at Gary, not knowing if he remembered just who I was or not. But then the expression changed from slight worry, to extreme surprise, and I knew he recognized me.
“Rodger,” he cried for the boy. “Come here, son.”
“See you, mister,” the boy said, looking up at me.
“Okay. Run along.”
When Rodger reached Gary, his father grabbed him by both his shoulders and quickly examined him, as if I had somehow secretly molested the child in six seconds, right there in front of him.
Gary started walking toward me, and I started toward him.
“Nice boys you have,” I said.
“What do you want?” he said with a serious tone that sounded like he was ready to lay down his life in defense of his family.
“And nice house, too.” I looked it over, as though I had never seen it.
“How did you find out where I live?”
“Calm down, Gary. You sound pretty riled. I don’t know why you should be so upset. You have a beautiful home, a wonderful family.”
“You leave my family out of this,” he warned.
“All that, and my fiancée to boot. You should be the happiest man in the world.”
“What do you want?” he asked again.
“Dad, you still playing?” the older son called, tossing the ball up and down in his hand; Rodger, his younger brother, standing near him, wanted to know the answer to this question as well.
“You guys go ahead. Dad’s talking, he’ll back in a few minutes.”
“Uh, no he won’t,” I said.
“What did you say?” Gary said, turning back toward me.
“You asked me what I wanted. I want you to come with me.”
“You know what?” Gary said. “You need to get off my property.”
“Or what?” I said. “You’ll call the police?”
“Or I’ll throw you off.”
“I’d like to see you try that,” I said, looking at Gary, as if comparing his smaller, less muscled body to mine.
It seemed he was doing the same thing, because then he said, “Fine. Stay out here as long as you want. I don’t have to stay out here with you. “Boys,” Gary called, turning to walk away.
“No, you don’t have to stay out here with me,” I said, walking behind Gary. “But you have to go with me, or I’ll go in that house and tell your wife everything I know about you and my exfiancée Faith, and the years you all have been dating, even about the time you got her pregnant and convinced her to have an abortion.”
At that remark, Gary spun around, looking at me as though I had spoken of something that never should’ve been heard of again while he was alive.
“I’m not going to hurt you or anything like that, Gary. I just want you to come with me. It’s that, or the consequences. You choose.”
By that time, his boys were standing in front of him with their ball, like two eager dogs waiting for their owner to throw their favorite stick.
“You two go on in and tell Mommy that I went to the store with a friend from work, okay?”
“Okay,” the older boy said, looking suspicious, while the younger boy just smiled innocently at me.
“Go on now,” Gary said, watching them as they went in the house.
“That was a very smart decision,” I told Gary as we walked toward my car.
When I turned the car off, we were in the parking lot of a Circuit City electronics store.
“What are we doing here? You didn’t take me away from my family to go shopping, I know,” he said.
“Just get out,” I said, pulling the key from the ignition and getting out of the car myself.
Once inside the store, I walked over toward the televisions and VCRs. They were all lined up on three shelves, the smaller models on the top shelf, the larger ones, the thirty-two-and forty-seven-inchers, on the bottom. This wouldn’t do, I told myself, and walked away from that section, heading down an aisle where the portable TVs sat. Gary followed dumbly behind me, questioning me with each step I took, but I just ignored him.
After finding the set I was looking for, a small one, down a vacant aisle, with a VCR attached to it, I turned it on, the volume low, and stood in front of it.
“So you brought me out here to get my opinion on a fucking TV?” he said, looking like he wanted to beat me, if he could.
“No, I brought you out here to tell you what I want you to do for me.”
“I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Oh, but you are!” I said, smiling kindly in his face. “You are, because you have no choice. You don’t do it, and your wife will know everything. Now, are you ready to hear what’s going to happen?”
“Go ahead,” Gary grunted.
“You’re still seeing Faith, aren’t you?”
Gary didn’t answer, looking as though he was trying to decide the best way to answer the question.
“Are you still seeing her or not?”
“Yeah.”
“And I assume you have a key to her house.”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” I said. “What’s going to happen will be a kind of reenactment of what already happened.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“You know how I caught you with Faith in that hotel room. You’re going to get caught again, but this time not by me, but by Faith; and not with Faith but an escort I will arrange and you will pay for; and not in a hotel room, but in Faith’s house.”
“Fuck that. You’ve lost your damn mind. I’m not doing it.”
“Yes, you will, or I’ll tell.”
“You go ahead and tell,” Gary said, his finger in my face. “It’s your word against mine, and who do you think my wife will believe? Her husband, or some damn psycho like you. Fuck you,” and he turned to walk away.
“Um, Gary,” I said, very coolly, pulling the videotape out of my inside jacket pocket. “I think there’s something here that might convince you.”
“Nothing will convince me to do what you’re talking about,” he said, stopping.
“Take a look anyway,” I said, making sure there wasn’t anyone in the aisle we were in, then sliding the videotape into the player. The screen went black.
“Keep watching, Gary. You’re going to like this.”
A second later, I heard him gasp when he saw the images of Faith on her knees giving him head, himself whining in ecstasy.
“Turn it off,” Gary said, his face flushed. “Stop it.”
“What do mean, stop it? You didn’t want it to stop when you were actually getting it done to you.”
“Turn it off!” he said, yelling.
I punched the Stop button, then the Eject. I took out the tape and slid it back into my jacket.
“Now, you’ll do what I want?” I asked, confident that he would.
“I still can’t,” Gary said, looking defeated.
“And why not?”
“I fuck some freak in Faith’s house, betray her like that, she’s going to go right to my wife to get back at me, so I lose either way. I don’t do what you want, you go to my wife. I do what you want, Faith goes to my wife. I’m fucked both ways. But I’d rather be fucked and still have Faith in my corner, than to have you.”
“No, Gary. You can still do this.”
“I told you I can’t.”
“I know you’re sending your family down to D.C. in a few days, and I know you’re going down there after them for a new job.”
Gary looked at me astonished. “How did you—”
“That doesn’t matter. You get busy with this woman in Faith’s house after your family is gone, then you’ll have nothing to worry about. You can’t beat it, Gary. You’ll get away with fucking Faith for two years, and still have your family thinking you’re a faithful man. Hell, you would’ve even gotten a shot of some professional pussy. That should make you very happy, Gary. Because isn’t that what you’re all about anyway? Fucking around on your
wife as much as you can.”
Gary flinched at that remark, his hands tightening into fists at his side.
“Go ahead, Gary. Take a swing at me,” I urged him. “So I can do to you what should’ve been done in that hotel room when I found you with Faith. Take a swing, please.”
He backed off.
“There’s something else I want to ask you before I take you back home. Faith still thinks you’re getting a divorce, still thinks the two of you are getting married, doesn’t she?”
Gary looked at me through evil, squinted eyes, not answering.
“Doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, so what?”
“You didn’t even tell her that you’d be leaving. You’re just going to up and disappear on her. Do you know how much that’s going to hurt her?”
Gary turned his face up to me, the angry scowl still there, and said, “Why should I care? She doesn’t mean anything to me.”
I wanted to put my fist through that man’s head at that moment. I guess to defend Faith’s honor. But then I realized, why would I do that when I don’t mean anything to her.
34
Everyone and everything were gone, Asha thought as she sat behind the wheel of a rented Oldsmobile Alero heading east toward Indianapolis.
After receiving the news from Angie, Asha wandered about downtown, trying to stop herself from crying, but unable to. She didn’t know if she was crying more because of Angie or Jayson, or if she was crying because she’d lost them both. She couldn’t run to Gill either, to hide behind him again and try to reclaim her false identity.
Asha finally got a cab home and after failing at trying to relax in front of the TV and forget all about the past few days, she decided to get up and start packing. She wasn’t able to make herself at home there anyway anymore, because it no longer felt like her home. Jayson wanted her gone, and now she had to find a new place.
Asha pulled armloads of clothes out of the closet still on the hangers, and dropped them across the bed. She dug out a dozen boxes of shoes, stacked them just outside the closet door, and all the while she was doing this, she kept telling herself not to think about Angie, not to think about Jayson.