This Can't be Life

by Shakara Cannon

  It seems like everyone has someone in their family that has been molested by a family member or someone close. That shit is beyond revoltin’. I’d probably be ‘normal’ if my mother’s sick ass boyfriend hadn’t been fuckin’ with me when I was barely nine. Hell, I might have been somewhere married with children if he hadn’t done that to me. When I told my mom, she tried to kill that man. Luckily, he was prosecuted and sent to jail. He was sentenced to three years, although he should’ve spent the rest of his life in prison for fuckin’ with mine. My mother put me in counselin’ immediately and it helped me a lot. So, when people try to tell me that counselin’ doesn’t work, I tell them they were goin’ to the wrong person. Counselin’ definitely helped me understand that that shit wasn’t my fault and that he was, and probably still is, a very sick man. I had to learn how to deal with it, go on with my life, and not let it ruin me. Thankfully, I hardly ever think about it now. I’ve learned how to play the cards I was dealt and it’s gotten me through this far.

  Comin’ out to my family was much easier than I thought it would be. My mother cried. I know that she was hurt, wonderin’ if that man made me this way. My older sister, Joy, said she’d always known. I don’t know why I was so apprehensive about comin’ out to the two people who love me unconditionally. My family had my back 100 percent and I was grateful for that. I have friends that have been disowned by their families for bein’ gay and that would have totally devastated me. I would have killed myself because I couldn’t have lived my life without my mother and sister.

  I don’t understand why people would think that a man would choose to be gay anyway. You had to be a certain type of man to even think about bein’ with another man sexually. That shit wouldn’t even cross a real straight man’s mind. Just like a real gay man wouldn’t even think about bein’ with a woman. That shit has never crossed my mind. I’ve never in my life been with a woman before and couldn’t even imagine it, just like straight people couldn’t imagine bein’ with their same sex. It was just a natural feelin’ for me to want to be with a man.

  Now the reason I put emphasis on the real is because sometimes you run into those bi-curious people, or whatever they want to call themselves, who would fuck whoever. And that shit ain’t cool. I went through my stage where I didn’t want to be with a man that was already gay. I got a thrill out of fuckin’ with a straight man. But that was back in my dumber days, I’ve had enough heartache doin’ stupid shit like that for all the gay men in the world. They would just want to lay down and have sex. Most wouldn’t even want to kiss and don’t even think about going out to dinner and all the shit that normal people do when they’re datin’.

  That was why I was havin’ this dilemma. Tyron Marks was everything I wanted in a man, except gay. He didn’t think he was gay, which made no sense. He’d fuck a man and let him suck his dick, but he wasn’t gay? Yeah, okay. He can believe that shit if he wants to. I bet if I asked one of his boys, they’d call his ass a homo. Eventually, his ass is gon’ be pushed out the mothafuckin’ closet anyway, and he gon’ feel real stupid then. So, why prolong the inevitable?

  The last relationship I was in, I loved that man too much. I was blindsided when he decided that he didn’t want to have a relationship with a man anymore. He felt that he needed to get right with God. He had the nerve to tell me that he wanted to find a wife and have some kids. I went complete guerilla on his ass. I was with him for two years and didn’t know that he was even second-guessin’ his sexuality. If I'd known that, I wouldn’t have dealt with him at all. Yet, here I am, even thinkin’ about messin’ around with someone like Tyron, someone with a girlfriend that probably doesn’t even know that her man takes it up the ass or at least likes givin’ it. I was sensin’ trouble already. You would have thought my stupid ass had had enough heartache to know when to turn a brotha down…but this brotha was different.

  I couldn’t get him off of my mind. It seemed like it was meant for me to meet him, but still I was very apprehensive. I wasn’t for the bullshit and I didn’t have time to have my heart trampled on again. I had gone four months without intimacy and I could keep goin’. I was done with meaningless sex. The only thing a quick romp in the sack had ever gotten me was a damned dilemma, especially with someone I had no mental connection with. When all is said and done, it has always been about gettin’ the man out my bed and out the front or the back door as fast as possible. I am not with layin’ up with no man unless he has my mind. So, I called Tyron for some straight talk. When he picked up the phone, I got right to the point, straight up, no chaser or cordial greetings or shit like that.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked, after he announced himself. His voice sent chills through my body. Nothin’ turns me on more than a powerful man. If you haven’t tried one, you should. A man that’s signin’ checks, hirin’ and firin’ people, is the kind of man I like. Bein’ with a man that has so much money and power made my dick hard. Anyway, so when I asked him that question, he didn’t hesitate to answer and knew exactly who he was speaking to.

  “Stacey, you don’t have to question my intentions with you. I’m not the type that would fuck you over. I have too much to lose.” He told me that he’d been with three men in his whole life and kept the last nigga, as he put it, for five years. Homeboy decided that he didn’t want to live in his shadow. He went on to tell me how he took care of him, paid his way through law school, and spent a lot of time with him. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to be the one with him at events, takin’ pictures as a couple, walkin’ down the red carpet and shit like that.

  “I’d be ruined. I deal with gangsta niggas, niggas from the street. They wouldn’t understand. Shit, I don’t understand it and I’m a nigga from the street, too.”

  I understood everything he was sayin’ and I had to think if this was somethin’ that I could do. I had to weigh my options. I’m lonely with no one in my life right now. I make really good money, so it’s not like I need him. I could definitely stack some chips and open up a salon or two, take some vacations, and live in the lap of luxury. Hmmm, what to do? I thought it over for all of five minutes while he was still runnin’ his mouth and decided to go for it. But he’s gonna have to show me what he’s about before he gets anything from me. I ain’t stupid. A man can talk a bunch of shit and not back it up, and that’s grounds for me to start slicin’ and dicin’!

  I told him that I was interested in gettin’ to know him and spendin’ some time with him. He invited me over. I went and had the most wonderful time with him. We didn’t have sex but we did share the most wonderful kisses that I’ve ever had in my life. He invited me to go with him to Paris on business, said that he’d have a couple of meetin’s a day. I’d have to fly out there by myself but he’d make sure that I had a room adjoined to his so we could be together. He then handed me $10,000 in cash to take care of some of my bills and get whatever I might need for the trip. I almost pissed my pants. If it was about to be like this, hands down, I made the right decision fuckin’ with him. Paris, here I come!

  Simone

  It was 4:00 in the morning and I was lying in my bed wide-awake. The scene from my grandparents’ house kept playing in my head over and over again. I felt so lost. I don’t even know where I came from, who my mother is, or who my real grandparents are. I could have walked down the street and passed my own mother and not even have known it. Everything I thought to be the truth was a lie. Everything that I thought to be real was fake. Usually, when a child finds out she was adopted, there is a sit down, let’s break the news gently moment. I was completely blindsided. To say that I felt like I’d been dropped on earth from another planet would have been putting it mildly.

  When the phone rang, a multitude of things that could’ve gone wrong ran through my head before I finally found my cordless phone nestled in between my sheet and my goose down comforter.

  “Hello,” I answered, my voice raspy from not talking for hours.

  “Is this Simone Johnson?” an unfamil
iar male voice asked.

  “Yes, who is this?”

  “Ma’am, I’m detective Robert Liles with the Los Angeles Fire Department Arson Investigation Team. Your salon caught fire this morning. We need you to come down and talk to us.”

  “What? How did it happen? Is it bad?” Questions poured out of my mouth as I jumped out of bed and walked into my closet to throw something on.

  “We’re pretty sure that it was arson. And yes, ma’am, I’m sorry to inform you that it burned pretty badly. Can you come down so I can give you more information?”

  I wrote down the address to the precinct and told them they could expect me there within the next hour. My first stop would definitely be my salon. I couldn’t believe that this was happening and I knew I wouldn’t until I saw it. I picked up the phone to call Stacey when I remembered that he was in Paris. I dialed Talise’s number and hung up before the first ring. I knew they were tired of having to deal with my never-ending drama. I hated burdening my friends with my many problems; I’d unloaded too many on them already.

  The smell of smoke was still fresh in the air when I got to what used to be the salon. For some reason, I felt nothing. I felt numb. This was my baby. How could I not cry? This was all I had. I stood across the street long enough to watch the firemen load their equipment onto the two fire trucks that were parked in front of the semi-scorched building.

  I sat there on that curb for close to 30 minutes before I decided to head down to the precinct and find out how this happened.

  “God, what is going on? I can’t take much more. I can’t take much more!” I found myself whispering aloud to no one in particular, because there was no one around. I probably looked like a damned crazy person as I walked back to my car talking to myself as the numbness I’d previously felt started to wear off.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I whispered, through clenched teeth as I felt warm tears roll down my cheeks. I was pissed off to say the least. I needed to figure out who did this, because whoever it was meant business. I couldn’t even think of anyone I knew who would do some shit like this. As far as I knew, Byron didn’t know a thing about what I was doing. Plus, I kept his ass out of jail and I should’ve burned down his house. As I drove to the precinct, I kept brainstorming, trying to think of anyone else that would do something like this to me. I kept drawing a blank until I thought of the Jamaican that came to the salon looking for Al. Before that, everything concerning my business was fine. That’s exactly what I planned to tell the detective. I wanted to find out who was responsible much more than they ever possibly could.

  Talise

  I can’t understand why Stacey would go to Paris with a man who has a girlfriend and claims he’s not gay! That just didn’t sound like the smart thing for him to be doing. Instead of moving forward, I feel like Stacey is moving backward. Something about this new relationship worries me a lot. More than anything, I want Stacey to be happy, but I don’t know if he could handle another heartbreak. Stacey was not Stacey for about two or three months after his last breakup, and to be honest, I’m not sure how he would hold up if it happened again. All I could do is just be there to help pick up the pieces if and when they fell.

  I rolled over, figuring it had to be time to get out of bed and get ready to go into the office. I looked at my alarm clock sitting on my nightstand; it read 6:00 a.m. Up early and it didn’t surprise me nor piss me off this time. I looked to the other side of my bed, and my stomach fluttered at the sight of Malachi sleeping peacefully next to me. I kissed his forehead, rose from my bed, and walked into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee started. I picked up the phone to dial Stacey’s cell. I knew he would be up being that Paris was a good nine hours ahead of us. But, when I picked up the phone, there was no dial tone.

  “Hello?” I questioned.

  “Talise, it’s Simone. Are you awake?” Simone asked.

  “Yeah, I’m up. I was about to call Stacey, but when I picked up the phone you were on the line. What’s up, girl? What’re you doing up so early?”

  “I haven’t been to sleep all night. Someone burned down the salon this morning. They called me around 4:00 or so and I went down there. It was burned pretty badly. There’s a lot of damage.” Simone finished with a sigh.

  “What? Do they know who did it?”

  “No, they don’t, and I can only think of two people that would do this, and that’s Byron, which is highly unlikely, or that Jamaican man that came by looking for Al. I don’t know, Talise.”

  “Do they know for sure it was arson?”

  “They say it was definitely arson. I went to talk to the detective and he was acting like he thought I did it! He asked me about the deed to the building and how much insurance I had. He even had the nerve to say that it was a big coincidence that the salon burned down so soon after it was put in my name. I can’t believe this is happening. I don’t even care anymore. I’m just so tired, Talise. One minute I feel like crying and the next, I feel emotionally numb. I don’t know what to think or how to feel to tell you the truth.”

  “Damn! Have you talked to Stacey?” I asked.

  “I’ll wait till he gets back. I don’t want to ruin his trip. You know what, Talise? I don’t even think I want to do hair anymore. I feel like my life is in limbo and nothing is going to go right until whatever else that has to go wrong goes wrong.”

  “I’m so sorry, Monie. Has Deon called?”

  “Fuck Deon, Talise! Don’t mention his name to me anymore. I told you he wasn’t about shit and I was right!” I could easily hear the pain in her voice, although she was trying to be tough. “I knew this shit would happen! I told you Talise. I haven’t heard from his ass and I don’t ever want to hear from him. I’m just tired, Talise. I’m so fucking tired.” I could tell she was crying and my heart was aching for her.

  “What if something happened to him and…?”

  She cut me off. “We’re talking about Deon Bradford, Talise. If anything would’ve happened to him, the whole world would know!”

  “I just don’t understand why he would do that. He seemed so genuine,” I said, leaning up against the sink.

  “He’s a man! He got some ass and now it’s on to the next chick, like the majority of these men do. I knew better so we shouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

  “Not all men are like that, Simone.”

  “Yeah, whatever, Talise. I’m really not trying to hear that shit right now.”

  “Well, I’m about to come over there.”

  “No, you’re not! I’m cool, Tali. I promise. I’m about to go through all this paper work and find this insurance info.”

  “How much insurance did you have on the salon?” I asked.

  “I don’t remember exactly but it’s something close to a million for the structure and a few hundred thousand for personal property. This shit has me looking real suspicious right now, too, but I don’t care because I didn’t do shit!”

  “Damn, that’s a lot of money,” I said more to myself than to Simone.

  “I don’t even want to think about that right now, Tali. I’m just gonna find this paperwork and make the necessary calls. Then I have an appointment to see my shrink in a couple of hours.”

  “I hope they catch who did this.”

  “Me, too, but I doubt that they will. I’m gonna let you go so you can get back to what you were doing. I just wanted to let you know what’s going on,” she sighed.

  “Damn, girl. I’m just blown away by all of this. I’ll be over there after I get off work, no matter what you want.”

  “Okay, that’s cool.”

  “Monie? Get some sleep, please. You can’t just stay up all night and keep going like this,” I told her, hoping she’d take my advice.

  “I’ll try. I am feeling a little sleepy,” she replied, yawning.

  “Okay, get some rest and remember, call me if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll see you when I get off. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I hung up the p
hone and got back to making coffee when I heard Malachi coming down the hallway toward the kitchen. He stepped through the doorway wearing cotton drawstring pajama pants and no shirt; he looked good enough to eat. His hair had grown a bit and he was wearing it about an inch long. It was jet black, curly, and all over his head.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he sang, as he walked over and embraced me.

  “Good morning. Did I wake you?” I asked, placing a kiss on his lips.

  “Not really. I rolled over and you weren’t there. I didn’t want to waste another minute sleeping when I could be awake and all up in your face,” Malachi replied, smiling deviously.

  “Oh, really? All up in my face doing what?” I asked, kissing his neck, and then nibbling his ear.

  “Well, I didn’t really mean your face,” he said, kneeling down in front of me. He lifted the tee shirt that I’d slept in and began to kiss my belly button, slowly working his way down.

  “Well, what did you mean?” I asked playing along and enjoying every minute of the attention he was paying me.

  “Let me show you,” he replied, sliding my panties over my hips then down my thighs and legs. I lifted one foot off of the floor at a time so that he could get my panties from around my ankles. He put them in the pocket of his pajama pants, lifted my left leg, and draped it across his shoulder then buried his face between my legs.

  “Oh, okay. That’s what you meant,” I moaned with a big smile on my face. Damn, should I consider this a good morning or a bad morning?

  Deon

  I walked into Spondivitz on Virginia Ave from the back entrance and proceeded to the bar. I saw her sitting alone, sipping a glass of water with her back toward me. I could pick her out of a crowd of a hundred even with her haircut short. I knew this woman like the back of my hand. I walked up behind my college sweetheart and kissed her on the cheek. She turned around, startled, as if she wasn’t expecting me.