by Xyla Turner
Oh shit.
“Don, we don’t do that. Remember?” I said in a warning tone. “We don’t do that at all.”
“Yeah, well this is fucking war, Kat. They’ve taken our bodies and hung them on trees but this time they’re killing them in the fucking street on live social media and shit and we’re just supposed to let them keep doing it?” He was spiraling out.
“Don,” I yelled. “We do not do this. You got me? I’m fucking serious. We’re not letting it happen, we’re doing what we can. I know it’s frustrating, but we have to keep doing what we can because those people didn’t die for us to be locked up forever. This would not honor them.” I was pleading.
“Yeah, you right, sis.” Don paused. “I just feel so helpless, like I can’t do anything.”
“I understand. Believe me, but we are doing something. Seriously.” I said.
“Yeah. So what, you got a man that you taking spontaneous trips and shit?” He asked.
“What if I did?”
“Well, I’d want to meet him.”
“Ha,” I yelled through the phone. “The last man you met, you beat the shit out of him and made him propose.”
“No, no.” Don said, “Let the records reflect, he was my friend and did that shit behind my fucking back; both of you. He had that coming and what you didn’t know was that he was a serial dater and I knew that shit for a fact. He knew what the deal was. He fucking knew.”
“Right, Don. So whatever you have to tell yourself but when I’m good and ready, I’ll have the two of you meet. Not before I’m ready though.” I confirmed.
“Hmm, you must really like him. We’ll see,” he said.
“Aight, Don. I will talk to you later.”
“Yeah, aight sis. Later.”
I could only imagine Don and Vic meeting. Now, that would be prime time television.
Vic called me later that evening and asked if I had dinner yet. When I said no, he told me to open the door.
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“Open your front door.” He repeated.
I started walking towards the door and asked, “What, did you leave something here?”
The deadbolt clicked after I turned it and saw the tall, gorgeous figure in my doorway. To top that off, the aroma that was coming from the bags in his hand were intoxicating.
Yeah, this man could melt me to a blob.
“Look at that smile,” Vic laughed.
Shit, my thoughts must have been all over my face.
“That smells good.” I went to grab the bags.
“Damn, no kiss. No nothing.” He smirked. “Just the food.”
I snatched the bags and went back into the apartment.
“That's for making fun of my smile.” My hips swayed purposefully from side to side as I put the food in the kitchen.
His large hands grabbed my waist and pulled my body into him.
“I like your smile.” He kissed my neck. “There's nothing about that smile that I would make fun of.”
“Umm, hmm.” I murmured.
“Don't umm hmm, me.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth.
“Are you trying to start something or are we going to eat?” I practically moaned.
“Yeah, we may need to eat first, so I can have my dessert later.”
“Hmm, I like that.”
He kissed my neck again.
Vic and I talked, laughed and at one point; I spit out my lemonade all over my wood floor. He was showing me a video of a prank where a guy needed toilet tissue and when he went to get it from the guy, he touched him and had brown mess all over his hands. To top that off, Vic said he was called to one gas station and the guy had vandalized the bathroom and was covered in shit. He said he and his partner tossed a coin to see who would cuff him and the patrol car smelled like shit for a week.
I told him about the time a patient threw shit at me and how they let me off for two days because I told them she needed to be in psych but the doctor didn't listen.
We shared some more stories and laughed until it was eleven o’clock.
“We should get to bed.” Vic smirked.
I pointed to the front door and said, “Okay, I'll see you later.”
He looked at me and laughed, “The fuck you won't.”
Vic jumped up, pulled me from the chair and wrapped me around his neck, like I was a beach towel.
“I'll get the trash later.” He carried me back to the bedroom.
“You're such a caveman,” I laughed.
He threw me on the bed and crawled on top of me.
“Such a caveman for you,” he smiled.
“Only for me?” I asked.
“Yup,” he nodded. “Only you.”
Vic rocked me to sleep again and when I woke up the next morning, he had me wrapped up in a cocoon of all muscle and sweat.
“Vic,” I called.
He groaned but didn't move.
“Vic,” I called again and attempted to move.
“Uh,” he mumbled.
“I'm hot,” I said.
“Okay.” He mumbled again.
I continued to wiggle around in an attempt to get loose. Vic pulled me closer to him and then I yelled louder.
“VIC!”
He jumped up and said, “Yeah.”
His wild eyes searched my body and then my face.
“What's wrong?” He was frantic.
“Nothing,” I tried to calm him. “I have to go to the restroom.”
“Oh, okay.” His eyebrows rose in confusion.
“You had me in a tight grip,” I laughed as I rolled off the bed and ran to the restroom.
When I returned to the bedroom, he was sitting against the headboard staring off.
“What are you thinking?” I asked him.
“About us.” His eyes landed on me. Now, that caused me to stop in my tracks.
“What about us?” I asked.
“Our future, our fights, our compromises, our…” He chuckled. “Just us.”
This had me crawling back on the bed towards him. I was not a romantic person but I swear I felt warm inside.
“What else?” I asked, sitting next to him with my back against the headboard.
He grabbed my hand and chuckled, “What else, huh? I think you're going to ruin me.”
Vic was staring at our interlocked hands as if he wasn't present but elsewhere.
“Vic,” I called. “Where are you?”
“Huh?” His head jerked up, “Sorry, sweetheart. Just thinking about us and hoping we get to that good life.”
“How do we get there, old wise one?” I asked.
“Thanks,” he laughed. “We get there by sticking together, communicating, being real and honest with each other, empathetic with each other and making that shit happen.”
“That so?” I asked as I squeezed his hand.
“Oh yeah,” Vic scooted his bottom down the bed and turned over.
The side of his face rested on my stomach, his arms wrapped around my middle and the rest of his body laid flat on the bed.
My fingers began to run through his soft hair as the warmth started to spread from my heart to the other regions of my body.
Damn.
I was falling for this man.
“Sweetheart, let’s go,” Vic came back to get me from the vendor in the mall. “We’re going to be late.”
This was the second time I had stopped to look at something that caught my eye.
“Isn’t this cute?” I asked.
“Yes, this is cute,” he mocked. “Now, let’s go.”
“Ugh, you’re no fun to go to the mall with,” I joked.
“Yeah, that’s what D’asia’s for.”
My legs were practically running to catch up with his large stride. Vic’s arm was around my middle section as he hurriedly urged me along to see the movie, Central Intelligence, with The Rock and Kevin Hart.
It was dumb, as I suspected, but this was me compromising. He, of course, was
laughing so hard at scenes that I clearly missed or must have nodded off at the punch line.
As we were leaving, Vic’s arm was around my neck, he was still chuckling to himself, “That shit was funny.”
“No, it was not.” I dryly replied. “There were some parts where I attempted to smirk but it wasn’t even worth that shit.”
“Fuck, you wanted to see Ghostbusters, with Leslie and that chick from Mike and Molly, fighting fucking ghost.” Vic eyed me with a smirk.
“Now, they are funny!” I exclaimed.
“Ha! Bull…” Vic’s face turned and he stopped. “Can I help you?”
I looked up to see, none other than, Corey Lewis staring at us like he smelled something foul.
“Kat, the fuck you doing here?” Corey asked but was looking at Vic, who was looking back at him.
Oh shit.
This was what I had feared and despite what I knew in my heart, on some level I felt torn.
“Movies. How are you Corey?” I asked.
“Fine. We missed you at the black lives matter city shut down.” His voice almost resembled a robot and he never once looked at me.
“Yes, I was out of town.” I noted.
“I can see that.” He finally turned to me with judgment in his eyes.
“Corey, this is Vic and Vic, this is Corey, the leader for The Methods.” I announced.
Vic nodded his head but made no move to shake his hand or anything.
“Your brother knows you’re back in town?” Corey asked.
“Yup, talked to him yesterday.”
My patience was about to leave me as I could foresee where this was going.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll want to talk to you again,” Corey delivered that final blow, looked at Vic and stalked off.
Fuck.
“Something I should know?” Vic asked once we got in the truck.
I sighed but said nothing. My head was spinning a mile a minute and I knew that this was going to be a fucking nightmare. Don would lose his shit; try to fight Vic, who in all rights and reasons could lock his ass up. I didn’t want to cause conflicts but that’s exactly what would happen if this thing between Vic and me continued.
“Kat,” Vic snapped at me.
“What?” I snapped back.
“I called you like four times.” His tone lowered.
“Oh,” I exhaled. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“Is there something I should know?” He asked with both eyebrows raised with concern.
“Well, that’s Corey and he and my brother are close. I’m a part of the group of folks that marches and shuts the city down to protest. But, that’s really it.” I answered.
“What was his problem?” Vic asked. “It seemed like it was something more to his staring at me like that?”
“Well, Corey isn’t usually like that.” I didn’t answer his question.
“Kat, just fucking tell me what is going on?” He raised his voice, thus getting ready to lose his patience.
“He’s probably taken aback that I’m with a white guy. That’s the only thing I can think of. I’ve never dated white men before and I’ve never really been particularity interested in them. He may have seen you on television and knows that you’re a cop and my entire family are not fans of the police. Fuck, I don’t know, but that’s my guess.”
“Okay.” He paused. “What does that mean?”
I didn’t answer him because for some reason I felt like such a coward to even admit it out loud.
“Kat?” He said my name again and I knew that he knew exactly what it meant.
He pulled up in front of my place and said, “Am I left to assume your silence means we don’t even get a chance to begin?”
My eyes moved towards the window because I wanted to cry but Vic couldn’t see me. The tears panged my eyes but I refused to let them shed. He just said…he just fucking said, we’d have to communicate, fight and persevere if we were going to make it and not even twenty-four hours later, those very same words were tested.
“Kat,” Vic roared, causing me to turn to him.
“What!” I screamed back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? Huh? You’re a goddamn cop for fuck’s sake. You’re a white man, which equals the oppressor in my world and as I told you before, you wouldn’t be invited in. They’d never accept you and seeing Corey tonight, just confirmed that it wasn’t all in my head. There would be no weaning you into my world. What the fuck do you want me to do? This is my world!” My arm swept across the car to the outside of Manhattan. “These are my people. If I don’t stand with them, fight for them, or mourn about them, then who the fuck will? What do you want from me? Leave them and run and be with you at a lake house away from all the killing, injustice and bloodshed? You want to move out of the city, away from this shit and be amongst the interracial couples that will accept us. Huh?” I had gathered my purse, took off my seatbelt and was ready to leave. “Well, sorry, Vic. I can’t do that. Okay? Where am I going to go? What am I going to do? This is my family. The only family that I’ve known.”
I opened the door, bolted from his truck and ran up the front stairs. I didn’t stop, pass go or even look back because tears were streaming down my face as I slammed my door, locked it and slid down to my wooden floor.
What did he want me to do?
Chapter Eleven
Privilege
VIC
My dream last night was about me and Kat fighting against these ghosts and every time we separated, we started to lose or get overthrown. However, when we regrouped, we dominated even when we couldn’t see the ghost. It was crazy because we would fight them with our backs to each and it was as if we were synced into the other’s move. If she moved, I moved. When I moved, she followed. It was some Bruce Lee shit, but the key was we had to stay together.
I didn’t want to tell her the dream because as much as we were playing cat and mouse, it was only a good week that the two of us were together. Shit, we just had sex for the first time earlier in the week.
There was no way I was going to start talking about the future or the real meaning of the dream. I didn’t want to scare her and after she ran from my truck; I was glad I didn’t. As much as I wanted to negate the crazy shit she was saying, I couldn’t because it wasn’t crazy at all. That shit was her reality and not mine.
Her fucking world had been shaped by this way of life and here I come, asking her to choose me over it. No security, no guarantees, a good fuck and we both get off was all that I’d offered her up until this point. If anything, she’d offered me a whole lot more.
One of my friends in the academy tried to explain it to me but I just thought he was overly hype about his heritage. I was Irish but I didn’t walk around talking about my history all the time. Odomi, who was Nigerian, told me that I’d never understand the plight of the black man because I had white privilege. He claimed that was okay because there was nothing I could have done about my privilege, just like there is nothing that a black man can do about his plight. However, he said, the biggest mistakes white people make is acting like their privilege is available to everyone, when it’s not.
Again, I thought Odomi was full of shit. I argued with him almost all damn night and he said, that’d we would agree to disagree but he warned me that the day would come when I’d be confronted with his words.
That’s what Kat was screaming at me in the car and basically telling me that she didn’t have the luxury I had of assimilating anywhere and she did not. Therefore, she chose what she knew because it was safer.
The right side of my face felt like she’d slapped me hard but it was only her words that penetrated my soul.
Not giving a shit about the time or how many years I hadn’t talked to my friend, I dialed his number and on the third ring, he answered.
“My friend, how are you? Long time, no talk.” Odomi welcomed me.
“Hey O,” I wanted to smile. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been blessed. I won’t compl
ain. You seemed perplexed.” Odomi noted.
“Yeah, I am. Remember, we had that long, drawn out argument back at the academy about…”
“White privilege, eh?” He cut me off.
“Yes. So, can you explain it to me again? I mean, can you explain it and maybe give me some examples, so I can really understand it. Fuck, um, I understand it. I just don’t fucking agree or I guess I just don’t get it.”
“Hold, on my friend,” he said, then I heard a muffled voice. “Honey, I’m going to the yard. I must talk with my friend. Don’t go to sleep without me.”
Looked like Odomi had a woman, which made me think of Kat.
“Victor,” Odomi said as I heard a door close. “Why the inquiry?”
It was my turn to sigh.
“Man, I just.” I paused. “There’s a woman and she won’t be with me. There are some reasons and while I’m inclined to just let it go, she’s worth the fight. I know it. I just need to be equipped and I feel fucking lost. Like, I’m not sure who or what I’m fighting against in her head. She, uh, said some things that made me think of you and I guess…I just, needed to find out what I’m not getting.” I finally said.
“Ah, the heart,” his voice was low. “Well, I’ll explain a few things but to answer your question about white privilege, I find it best to say it this way. You, as a white man in American, can go anywhere, move anywhere, and not be discriminated against, not harassed, people asking for your identification, or why you’re in a certain neighborhood. You could even go to the hood, at this rate, and nobody would question you because of gentrification. I wouldn’t push that but it has nothing to do with your economic status. You turn on the television and you can find people that look like you everywhere. When you open a magazine, look at the traditional Ken and Barbie dolls. It’s privilege. Simply put, you’re privileged. A person of color has many more obstacles to overcome. There has been some change but it’s few and far between. The fact that there needs to be a Black Entertainment Television was due to the simple fact that black people were not getting the roles on any other station beside that one. That is why it needed to be created. There are historically black colleges and universities, (HBCU), because people of color were not admitted on a regular basis to these institutions. These movements exist because people of color lacked white privilege.” He paused. “Does that make sense?”