The Other Side Of the Game

by Anita Doreen Diggs

  Sitting in front of my bedroom window I watched the sun descend into the horizon, causing an array of colors to blend across the fading blue palette that was day. The bright fuchsia-colored clouds quickly swept towards the west, pushed hastily by the brisk January air. During a brief moment of drifting between thoughts, I remembered what I realized on the train to school this morning.

  A homeless man came into the first car carrying a cardboard sign expressing his misfortune, a soiled old coffee cup and an unbearable stench. I just happened to be looking around at the people’s reaction to him and they were all different. Some turned their heads in the other direction, some closed their eyes and pretended not to see him, some got angry that he was there, some looked at other people for someone else to share their disgust and some threw a few coins in his cup; but none of them actually looked the man in the eyes. The reason why I found this so interesting is because the way the people responded to the homeless man is the same way most people respond to the truth.

  They just don’t want to see it.

  Chapter 28

  ASHA

  Dr. Singh is supposed to get back to me today at three o’clock with the results of my blood pregnancy test and I’m nervous as hell. At the company meeting this morning while my boss rambled, all I could think about was my distorted body draped in a long sack-like dress with an ugly floral print on it. I was horrified by the visualization and I blinked hard to squeeze it out of my mind. The suspense is killing me and I’m seriously considering running to Duane Reade’s for a pregnancy test even though I don’t really believe in over-the-counter diagnoses.

  Patience is not one of my virtues and I can’t take it anymore. I jumped up from my desk, quickly grabbed my coat from the closet and bolted out the door. When I got to the store I was annoyed by the vast selection of products, so I just grabbed the one that showed the plus or minus sign.

  After squeezing a couple of drops of urine in the disk in the company bathroom, I carefully carried the gadget to my office wrapped up in some toilet tissue. I placed it on the desk and sat there staring at it. The laughter outside of my office broke my concentration and just when I was about to close the door, my supervisor walked in. I froze in place.

  “Excuse me, Asha, I don’t mean to disturb you but I just had to come and thank you personally for the wonderful job you did representing the company last week at the buyers’ conference. Everyone said you were quite remarkable,” he said, extending his hand in congratulations.

  “Thank you, Mr. Delrossi, I appreciate that. How have you been?” I asked, shaking his cold clammy hand.

  “I’ve asked you before to please call me Ralph,” he said, smiling, with his hands folded.

  “All right—Ralph. How is everything?” I chuckled.

  “Everything is fine, thank you. My eldest son Ted just got accepted to Yale and my wife and I are very proud of him.”

  “You have reason to be. He’s a very handsome boy.” I wanted to tell Ralph that his little Yalie was boffing his assistant but it seemed like a bad idea.

  “Why, thank you; good looks run in the family, you know.” He winked and smiled.

  I suppressed the desire to slap my knee as I looked at his big red sweaty face and sparse gray hair slicked down over a gigantic bald spot.

  “May I use your phone, please?” he asked, already motioning towards the desk.

  “Sure.”

  I was mortified as he moved the wad of tissue over to clear his way. As I turned my back so he wouldn’t see what must have been a real stupid look on my face, the unimaginable happened. I heard something drop on the floor and when I turned around, I could tell by his uncomfortable expression and the sheer brightness of the new shade of crimson he had turned that it was the test. Somebody just shoot me now I thought as I dived on the floor for the small plastic stick. It had managed to roll underneath the desk and I was forced to tap his leg for him to move over so I could reach it. What could he possibly be thinking as I scrounged around for a pregnancy test with my ass in the air?

  When I finally came back up grasping it tightly in my right hand, he was staring out the window muttering commands on the phone to his assistant but I could tell that he was just as embarrassed as I was because he was shifting from one leg to the other. Humiliated already, I decided to go ahead and look at the damn result and I was thrilled to see the tiny minus sign emblazoned in pink on the surface. I threw it in the garbage hastily and straightened out my clothes. My stockings now had a run on the left leg that went straight up to my thigh but that was irrelevant. I walked over to my fax machine and pretended to fax someone a letter but a stupid-ass computerized voice called me out by saying loudly “No receiver, no receiver!” I turned around to see if he was looking and we locked eyes briefly. As his conversation wound down I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.

  “Thank you for letting me use your phone, and I’ll see you later,” he said, smiling uneasily.

  “Good-bye, Mr. Delrossi,” I said softly.

  He waved without looking back and disappeared down the corridor. I have never been so embarrassed in my life. What a fool he must think I am and tacky too. Well who the fuck cares. The little stick says that I’m not pregnant!!!

  When I got home I saw the red light flashing on my answering machine and I couldn’t believe it said I had twenty messages. Two of them were from Saundra and the rest were from that crazy bitch Velma. I have had enough of this shit and I’m not taking this anymore. This whole scenario has taken too much of my time already and I’ll be damned if this ghetto heifer is going to keep me where I don’t want to be. I pressed *69 to tell this stupid-ass welfare-check-gettin’ ho of a sister to leave me the hell alone or I’m going to get her fat ass arrested.

  “Hello?” a little voice answered.

  “May I speak to Velma please?”

  “Hol’ on,” she said, dropping the phone to the ground. I flinched from the sound of the impact. “Mama! Mama!” I heard Alize frantically calling in the background.

  “What!” I heard Velma ask.

  “Some white lady’s on the phone, she wants to talk to you.”

  White lady? I thought to myself. This poor girl hardly hears proper English so she thinks I’m white. How unfortunate.

  “Hello?” Velma answered, out of breath.

  “This is Asha Mitchell. I really don’t appreciate your leaving messages on my machine and if you don’t stop harassing me, I’m going to call the police immediately,” I said crisply.

  “Bitch . . . I don’t give a fuck what you appreciate. You lucky I don’t put your ass right next to my brother!” she screamed.

  “I’m sorry about your brother but that’s not my fault. God just called him home, Velma.”

  “Fuck you, bitch! You don’t know shit!”

  “Fine. I will call the police if you continue and they will cut off your check and your food stamps, so do yourself a favor and stop.” I said firmly.

  “No you don’t. You fuckin’. . . !”

  Dial tone. I think I got my point across and if I didn’t, she’ll be in jail on Rikers Island by sunup, no problem.

  After eating a little and watching TV, I figured Saundra should be home by now. I smiled to myself as I thought about how I slammed the phone down in Velma’s ear, which was probably still ringing. There are two things I have learned from watching old movies: how to slap a man and how to hang up a telephone.

  “Hey, girl!”

  “I’m not pregnant!” I exclaimed.

  “When did you find out?”

  “At work. I went to Duane Reade and got a pregnancy test.”

  “I thought you wanted a blood test instead of the quickie kind. What happened to the doctor?”

  “He left a message on my voice mail saying the same thing.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, Asha.”

  “Well, whatever. I’m not a mommy and that’s all that matters right now.”

  “What are you doing this Saturday?”

>   “You know that I don’t do anything when I’m in between conquests.”

  “Asha . . . Remember you said you were going to try to change that, right? There’re not going to be anymore conquests, right?” she said, dragging her words.

  “Yeah, yeah . . . Why do you ask?”

  “I want you to come to a tea party with me in Brooklyn,” she said happily.

  “I heard you talking about those tea parties a while ago. Isn’t that where a bunch of you new age, ’70s rejects get together and complain about The Man?” I giggled.

  “Ha, ha, very funny; but it’s really not like that. We discuss a lot of different things and people, and also read their creative work; you’ll get to meet a lot of nice people and besides, its better than sitting in the house all weekend”

  “I don’t know, Saundra, you know I’m not into all that stuff.”

  “Well, let me know if you change your mind but I think you’d enjoy yourself.”

  “Anyway, guess what just happened right before I called you?” I said, changing the topic on purpose.

  “What?”

  “I finally got the balls to call Velma and tell her off.”

  “Did the sun pass the moon or something? What made you do that after all this time?” she asked.

  “When I got home, there were eighteen messages from her and I just got fed up.”

  “What did you say when you called?”

  “I told her I’d have her arrested and the police would take her welfare and food stamps away!” I laughed.

  “Oh, no, you didn’t say that! Are you serious?” She cackled.

  “Hell, yeah! And then she got all shanehneh on me and shit! She kept saying, oh, no, you don’t,” I said, imitating Martin Lawrence.

  “You are really too much but I have to go take a shower now because I’m going out with Yero in a half hour and the least I can do is not be funky.”

  “All right, I’ll catch you later.”

  “Peace,” she said and hung up.

  Maybe I should go out with Saundra this weekend. I haven’t been out in a long time and she doesn’t ask much of me. Besides, I need to escape.

  They are definitely on CP time. Saundra said they would be here to pick me up by one and it’s already two thirty-nine. In the meantime I decided to get some work done. Of course, as soon as I decided to do something else that’s when they showed up. Saundra yelled up to my window and I quickly ran downstairs to prevent any complaints from my neighbors. When she saw what I was wearing, her eyebrows shot up.

  “That dashiki is off the meter. Where’d you get it?” she asked staring at its swirling patterns.

  “I just bought it yesterday when I decided to come with you.”

  “That looks really good; you look beautiful,” she said, giving me a hug.

  “Well, you know what they say, when in Rome . . .”

  She rolled her eyes and walked towards the car. I couldn’t believe I was actually getting in this big lime green car to go to some damn tea party. Boy, did Randy screw my head up.

  Yero and I exchanged greetings and I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. I will never marry a poor man. Ever.

  Saundra glared at me and then turned around to introduce me to the two people in the backseat.

  “This is my friend Kimiko, the one I’m always telling you about from school, and this is Jazz, she’s going to be reading tonight.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand to both of them. Yero started the car and then he reached into the glove compartment to get a tape. I prayed for no sounds of nature or whatever shit they listen to. As he pulled away from the curb, Erykah Badu filled the car and I was relieved, I can handle her.

  The one thing that puzzles me is Saundra’s friend Kimiko. She is Asian but she was wearing a headwrap. If it’s all about being yourself and all that, why the hell isn’t she wearing a kimono or something? Why a headwrap? I’ll ask Saundra later when I get her alone because I can’t figure that out for the life of me. I didn’t speak much on the way there because I always like to know who I’m dealing with, but I would periodically laugh at some of the funny stuff they said. Jazz was the one who had everyone in stitches because she’s so blatant about everything she feels. Kimiko was extremely laid back but would put her two cents in when she felt it was necessary. I thought they would all be in here talking about the ozone layer or whatever but they were acting so silly, I actually found myself laughing. Maybe I won’t be in tears for Mother Earth by the end of the evening.

  The tea party place was cool, dimly lit and extremely mellow. There was one amateurishly set up spotlight that tilted slightly to the left but the sound system was on point. The music wasn’t too soft or too loud but just hung there in the background for those who wanted to pay attention.

  There was a mix of ethnic groups. Latinos, Asians, and Indians from the East and West. Everyone seemed so comfortable with each other and I now understood why Kimiko looked the way she did. There were no chairs, just big pillows for people to sit on.

  While Saundra and the rest of her entourage excused themselves to greet their friends, I sat there truly mesmerized by the beautiful artworks strategically placed along the walls. One in particular caught my eye. It was a painting of a black woman as the bark of a tree, her legs becoming one with the soil, limbs for arms, and colorful autumn leaves for hair. She was one of many trees in the forest but the farther the other trees were away from her, the more decayed they became. Her eyes were closed and her face had a look of peace and tranquillity on it as if she wasn’t concerned with dying or blossoming, she simply was going along with the cycle of life. The mixture of techniques and different paints such as acrylic and oil gave her such a rich texture that she looked carved and seemed to pop off the canvas. The artist was truly a master at the placement of color, recreating the feeling of dawn. Indigo, violet, scarlet and saffron lighting came peeking through the leaves, illuminating her surroundings.

  Saundra materialized at my side. “So, what do you think? Not so bad, right?”

  “No, it’s cool, but don’t get too excited,” I warned her. “I’m not ready to live in your world full time.”

  She sucked her teeth and sat down next to me on the huge orange pillow. “There are so many people who I want you to meet but I think we’re about to start so I don’t want to get the social train steaming just yet,” she said, pulling a bottled water out of her bag.

  “That’s fine . . . but . . . uh, do you know the person who did that painting up there, it’s bad,” I said, lifting my head up.

  “I know, it’s one of the best pieces in here. It’s called “Is.” My friend Derrick did that,” she said proudly.

  “He really has a lot of talent. Is he going to be here tonight?”

  “I’m not sure, let me ask Yero,” she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

  Yero was in a huddle with Kimiko and Jazz.

  “Excuse me, baby, but do you know if Derrick will be here tonight?”

  “He said he’s reading today so he should be here any minute,” he said quickly, turning back around.

  She looked at me and started grinning and I tried my best to have an innocent look in my eyes.

  “Why are you so interested in meeting Derrick?” Saundra asked, passing me an orange out of her bag.

  I began to peel the orange and avoided eye contact to hide my excitement. “I just think his work is phenomenal and I want to put a face with the painting; you know how much I like the finer things in life,” I said, biting into the juicy orange.

  “If you like that one, wait till you see his portfolio,” she said with her eyes wide.

  “What does he look like?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t dog-ass ugly.

  “He’s definitely not your type, he’s not all GQ or whatever.” She shrugged.

  “I asked you what he looked like, not for a synopsis of my taste.”

  “He’s very tall, slender, long locks, brown skinned . . . I think he’s gorgeous.”


  “How does he dress?” I asked, not impressed so far.

  “He usually wears jeans, cargo pants, T-shirts . . . very casual; but I’ve never seen him in a situation where that’s not appropriate,” she said.

  He definitely doesn’t sound like my type of guy because I’m not crazy about locks or the casual look, either. Oh, well, so much for that, but I still want to meet him anyway to discuss a possible business proposition. With his talent and my beauty, I’m sure he can do a masterpiece of me to hang up in my apartment. The walls in my apartment are way too bare, anyway, and I’ve always wanted a portrait of myself.

  The lights began to flicker and Jazz quickly ran “backstage,” which was simply a black curtain separating the huge floor space and the bedrooms. Saundra said it was about to start in five minutes and everyone began to settle down.

  Yero held Saundra and I saw an Asian guy with an afro sitting down next to Kimiko; I tried not to stare.

  “Asha, this is my boyfriend Lenny,” Kimiko said.

  Lenny smiled and extended his hand. “How you doin’?” he said, sounding Black.

  “Fine, thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “A’ight”

  “How long have you two been dating?” I asked, feeling insipid.

  “About a year now, right, boo?” Kimiko said, stroking the hair underneath his chin.

  He smiled again and reached over and smacked Saundra on the top of her head. Yero turned around in defense and then eased when he saw Lenny’s broad grin. Saundra gave him a pound.

  “Where you been, bugger?” Saundra asked, putting her locks in a ponytail.

  “Workin’, school, you know the deal,” he replied.

  “Yeah, I know; where’s your sister, she comin’?”

  “Nah, she couldn’t find anybody to keep Toshio so she just stayed home.”

  “But she could have brought Toshi with her; no one cares,” Saundra said, sounding disappointed.

  “I told her that but she said she hates when other people bring noisy children because it kills the effect.”

  “Tell her to call me.”