Lookin' For Luv

by Carl Weber

  “I didn’t even know she was white,” Kevin protested.

  “Oh, sure, she put a magic spell on you so you couldn’t see she was white. Give me a break. I can’t believe you would insult my intelligence like that.”

  “It was a blind date. We met on the 1-900-BLACK-LUV line, and she didn’t tell me her race, so I assumed she was black. I had no idea what she looked like until we met at the Garden.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, why did you go out with her once you saw her?” Antoine was about to start his pro-black speech.

  “The woman had courtside tickets to the Knicks game. Do you really think I was going to miss that because she was white?” He was exasperated. He had struggled enough with his own conscience on this issue and didn’t want to have to explain himself to Antoine. As long as he didn’t plan to make this a steady thing, what difference did it make if he went to the game with her?

  “Besides, Antoine,” he continued, “if you had been in the same situation, I really wonder if you would have left the woman standing alone in front of the Garden. What can one night hurt? It’s not like I’m taking her home to meet Mama.”

  “I never figured you for a sellout, Kevin. I really thought you were one of the righteous brothers. Dating a white woman just to see a basketball game? That’s pathetic.” He wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

  “Wait a minute, Antoine. Who the hell are you to call me a sellout?” Kevin was defensive. “Besides, I was fifteen minutes late. What was I supposed to say? ‘Sorry, miss, I know you’ve been waiting in the cold for almost twenty minutes, but I can’t go out with you now that I know you’re white.’ I don’t care what your feelings are about whites, Antoine. My mama didn’t raise me to be rude. Denise has feelings too.”

  “The hell with her feelings!” Antoine shouted. “Did you think about the feelings of the sisters that saw you with her?” He picked up his gym bag to leave. He was visibly upset. “If you really want blond hair and blue eyes, Kevin, you can find them right here in your own race. Black women come in any shade or hair color you want. All you have to do is look.”

  “Hold on, Antoine. You’re getting this all wrong. I still don’t believe in interracial relationships. I went out with her not to be rude. I told her that we couldn’t see each other again.” Antoine tried to hide a smile when he heard this. He dropped the gym bag, indicating he was staying to hear more.

  “Don’t listen to this fool, Kevin,” Tyrone interrupted. “Antoine’s got his own agenda.”

  “I don’t have any agenda.” Antoine hoped Tyrone wasn’t going where he thought.

  “Yes, you do.” Tyrone smiled ear to ear. “I guess you never told Kevin your pops left your mom for a white woman.”

  Kevin was stunned. He had always thought Antoine’s dislike for white women was a little obsessive. But now it made sense. Antoine had told him once that his mother had committed suicide five years earlier and that he didn’t speak to his father because of it. Now Kevin saw the bigger picture. His mother’s death must have had something to do with her husband leaving her for a white woman.

  “Are you talking about my mother?” Antoine glared at Tyrone.

  “No, man, I would never do that.” He was serious. “I just think that you should let Kevin make up his own mind and not prejudice him because of the problems you’ve had. I mean, white people have done right by me.”

  Kevin watched his two friends during their disagreement. Both of them made good points. Tyrone was sold on the fact that a white counselor at his drug program was the one who had put him on the right track. The woman had gone above and beyond for Tyrone when she recognized his talent. Antoine, on the other hand, felt strongly that blacks and whites should be separated, because it would lead to the loss of identity for blacks. As the argument heated up, Kevin jumped in.

  “I know the white people in your program helped you out a lot, Ty.” Kevin got between his friends to separate them. “The truth is, I have a lot of white friends back home too. But this isn’t about friendship for me. This is about the feelings of my mama, my sisters, and every other black woman who is offended by a brother and a white woman.”

  “Well said, young man.” Maurice’s heavy voice startled them. “Just think about how you feel every time you see a beautiful black woman with a white guy, Mr. Jefferson.” Maurice didn’t wait for an answer but headed straight into the locker room.

  “Damn, I hate that guy. He’s always creepin’ around corners and shit, listening in on everybody’s conversations,” Tyrone whispered.

  “Believe me. You’re not the only one who can’t stand him,” Antoine chimed in. With Maurice in the vicinity, he knew they couldn’t continue their debate. He would just have to trust that Kevin would do the right thing and stay true to his race.

  “Anyway,” he told them, “I need to ask you guys a favor.”

  “What’s up?” Kevin was glad to be off the subject of Denise.

  “You know I’ve been planning on buying Shawna an engagement ring.” Antoine smiled with pride.

  “Get out of here, big man. You’re really gonna do it, huh?” Tyrone patted him on the back.

  “Well, yeah, that’s the plan. But I’m having some real problems with her Men’s Club job.” Antoine seemed embarrassed. “I was wondering if you guys would mind going over there with me some time this week? You know, to check the place out.”

  “That’s cool with me. Saturday’s the first day of midwinter break. I’ve got nothing planned all week.” Kevin looked at Tyrone, expecting him to agree.

  “Hey, I haven’t been to the Men’s Club in months.” Tyrone nodded approvingly. “I was planning on going over there to see your girl’s phat ass anyway ...”

  “Aarrrrr!” They were jolted by a scream from nearby.

  “What the hell was that?” They turned in the direction of the sound.

  “It sounded like someone screaming in the locker room,” Antoine shouted.

  “Post one, this is post three. We have a disturbance in the men’s locker room.” Tyrone spoke quickly into his radio as he ran toward the locker room with Kevin and Antoine in tow.

  Searching through the rows of lockers, the three men found nothing until they heard the hideous scream again. It was coming from the adjoining rest room. Rushing into the bathroom, they were all shocked to see Maurice lying on the floor by a urinal. Almost unconscious from pain, Maurice opened his eyes as the three men helped him to his feet.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” he grunted, pushing them away. “You act as if you’ve never seen a man get his zipper caught on his dick!”

  “Look, Maurice, we’re just trying to help you.” Antoine shot Kevin a raised-eyebrow glance. He couldn’t believe the principal was angry at them for reacting to his shrieks.

  “Just forget it,” Antoine said to his friends. “Come on, guys, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  No one bothered to ask Maurice if he was all right as the men left the bathroom. As they entered the weight room, the three men laughed out loud about how silly Maurice looked with his pants around his ankles and his penis in his hands.

  “Oh, I wish I had a camera!” Tyrone was laughing so hard, he was almost crying.

  “No! The funny thing was when he said he caught his dick in his zipper,” Kevin cracked. “I wasn’t sure he even had a dick.”

  “Hey, fellas.” Antoine cleared his throat. “Calm down a little.” He gestured toward the school secretary, who was approaching them with a large package in her arms.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Rogers,” all three said in unison. It was clear that they were fond of her.

  “Mr. Brown.” She smiled sweetly. “A messenger delivered this for you about an hour ago.” The secretary handed him a package with an envelope attached.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Rogers. That was nice of you to bring it down to the gym.”

  They watched her walk out of the gym.

  “That Mrs. Rogers is one fine sister,” Tyrone commented once she w
as out of earshot.

  “She has a beautiful spirit too.” Antoine didn’t want to disrespect the woman, even though she was already out of the gym.

  “Yeah, too bad she’s married.” Kevin handed the package to Tyrone and sat on the bench press to open the envelope.

  Dear Kevin,

  I wanted to let you know what a great time I had last night. I thought very hard about what you said, and I think you’re right. We are better off as friends. As a friend, I wanted to ask you a big favor, because I’m really in a jam. A girlfriend and I were supposed to go to St. Thomas tomorrow for a week, but unfortunately her father was just hospitalized. I’ve called all my friends and nobody can get time off with such short notice. So I was hoping since both you and my girlfriend are teachers that you have the same winter break. Look, Kevin, I totally understand if you don’t want to come, but the tickets and room are paid for. I just want to have a good time and enjoy a vacation with a friend. You do not need a passport, so don’t worry about that. I hope to see you on the plane.

  Your friend,

  Denise

  P.S. I hope you like my little surprise.

  Kevin looked in the envelope and found a first-class ticket for 9:00 A.M. the next day. He wondered what “little” surprise she meant, because these tickets were no small thing as far as he was concerned. He turned around to see Tyrone wearing the Tommy Hilfiger jacket he had admired the night before.

  “Kev, this jacket is so phat. When did you order this?” He took it off and handed it to Kevin.

  “It’s a gift from a very rich friend,” he grumbled, handing Antoine the note, then trying the jacket on himself.

  “This Denise must have money to burn,” Antoine concluded after quickly reading the letter. “You realize she’s trying to buy you, Kevin, as if you’re a piece of meat?”

  “Denise? Money? Don’t tell me that white chick sent you this coat?” Tyrone said enthusiastically.

  “Yep, and she wants me to go to St. Thomas tomorrow.”

  “So what you gonna do?”

  “I’m not sure yet. What do you think, Antoine?”

  “I think you should take off that coat and send it and the plane tickets back.” He was serious. “You’re not some poor nigger who can be bought with material things. Or have you decided to sell all our black sisters out like Tyrone?”

  Kevin ignored Antoine’s comment for the moment.

  “Ty, what do you think?”

  “All I got to say is, if you don’t want to go, gimme the ticket.”

  “You two are my best friends, the closest thing I have to real brothers. You know I’ve gone through a lot the last few weeks with Alicia. Now I’ve got the chance at a week’s vacation in a tropical paradise.” Kevin looked at Antoine, took off the coat, and handed it to him. “You’re right. I am going to give her the coat back.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” he said nastily. “Now, what are you going to do about those plane tickets?”

  “I don’t know Antoine, you tell me. Should I give up a once-in-a-lifetime trip because you’re going to be mad? If that’s the case, tell me right now and I won’t go.”

  “You know I’m not going to make a decision like that for you. But I know what I would do.”

  “Well, Antoine, I’m not you. So I guess you’re going to have to trust that I’m going to keep this on the friendship level. But I can’t pass up this vacation.” He turned to Tyrone and smiled. “It looks like this time tomorrow I’m gonna be drinking piña coladas on the beach.” He waved the plane tickets in front of their faces.

  “Oh, and, Antoine, I’m not gonna be able to make the Men’s Club this week.”

  “That’s okay, man.” Antoine was still angry but aware that his friend had to live his own life. “We’ll just do it when you get back.” He hoped he’d be cooled down by then, and that Kevin would keep his word.

  21

  MAURICE

  Maurice thanked the secretary as she showed him into the doctor’s office. He sat briefly in a comfortable leather chair in front of the doctor’s desk, admiring the family photos prominently displayed throughout the office. When he heard the door open, he stood and turned, smiling as he saw his best friend of thirty years walk in. Dr. David Jackson grabbed Maurice’s right hand and hugged him.

  “It’s good to see you, man,” David said joyfully.

  “It’s good to see you too, buddy. How are Rita and the kids?”

  “Good, real good, thanks. And what about Sylvia and that goddaughter of mine?”

  “They’re fine. Jasmine made the dean’s list again. Look, Dave, I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice. I know you’re busy.”

  “Give me a break. You’re my best friend, for Pete’s sake,” David chastised as he settled his chubby frame behind the large mahogany desk. “Why didn’t you come up earlier? I would have had Charlene set us up with a tee time at the club.”

  “Like I said when I called earlier, I just needed to talk.”

  Sensing that something was seriously wrong, David motioned for Maurice to have a seat. Maurice sat down in front of David’s desk and stared at the many plaques and certificates on the walls. He was stalling, unsure of where to start. Instead of beginning with the truth, he just engaged his friend in more small talk.

  “Your new office is beautiful, Dave. You’ve really come a long way in twenty years.” Unlike his friend, David had made it on his own, without the help of a wealthy father-in-law.

  “Hey! This is me, David. Enough with the fucking pleasantries. What’s going on that you had to come all the way to Westchester to talk? They no longer have phones in Queens?”

  Maurice bit his top lip, hesitating.

  “I didn’t come here just because you’re my best friend and I needed to talk. I came here because you’re my doctor also.”

  David raised an eyebrow as he listened intently. In fifteen years of practice, Maurice had never come to his office for anything other than a yearly physical. Whatever was bothering Maurice, David knew it must be something serious.

  “Dave, I think I have VD.,” Maurice answered directly.

  “Oh, shit!” David said, covering his mouth with his hand. “How the fuck did this happen?”

  “I don’t know. I think it was this slutty freak I fucked last week.”

  “I told you that fucking date line was a bad idea.” David shook his head in disbelief. “When did you first notice the symptoms?”

  “Friday. I went to take a piss and almost passed out because of the pain.” He grimaced at the memory. “Now there’s pus coming out of the head of my dick.”

  “Friday! You waited six days before calling me? What are you, fucking stupid?” David stood and leaned over his desk toward Maurice. “You didn’t fuck Sylvia, did you?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure she’s okay.”

  “Thank God for small favors.” David stared at Maurice in disgust. He pointed to the door to his private examination room. “All right. Go in there and take your pants off.”

  David purposely had Maurice wait in his examination room for almost forty minutes while he saw other patients. While he conducted the exams, he pondered the nature of his friendship with Maurice. He realized he didn’t really know the man. He had always been Robin to Maurice’s Batman. A short, average-looking man, he had been Maurice’s sidekick, taking the women he rejected over the years. He had even met his wife that way. Sure, they had been in each other’s weddings, been godfathers for the other’s children, but he really didn’t know Maurice.

  David was shocked by Maurice’s revelation. He believed that most men fooled around on their wives a little, but his friend took it to the next level. Even David was carrying on an affair with his secretary, but he couldn’t understand why Maurice wouldn’t grow up. He was such a successful man in so many ways, but he refused to stop playing this dangerous game.

  When he thought he had made Maurice wait long enough, he returned to the examination room where Maurice was waiting
in his boxer shorts on the examination table. Maurice looked nervous but turned his apprehension into aggression toward his friend.

  “Where did you go? I’ve been waiting almost an hour.”

  Maurice was angry. He was accustomed to David fawning over him as if he were a rock star and David was a groupie.

  “Don’t go there, Maurice. I have paying patients who keep their dicks in their pants,” David growled as he put on a pair of rubber gloves. Picking up a cotton swab, David gently took hold of Maurice’s penis, pulling the foreskin until yellowish-brown pus seeped out, running down the shaft.

  “I can’t believe you’re taking this attitude with me, David. It’s not like you haven’t had more than a few affairs of your own, my friend.”

  He spat out the last words with plenty of sarcasm. He had come there looking for some sympathy, and David was offering him judgment. David ignored Maurice’s last comment and continued the examination.

  “Yep, definitely infection there. Looks like gonorrhea,” he declared, taking the swab and rubbing the opening of the penis.

  “Arrrr! You son of a bitch, that hurts!” Maurice screamed in pain. “What the hell is your problem? Are you trying to kill me?”

  “You’re lucky I don’t treat you the way they did in World War One. Back then they would stitch the head of your dick up and send you back to fight until the pus hardened all the way down your shaft. Then you would go back to see the medic and he would put your dick on the table and smash it hard with a rubber hammer until all the hardened pus cracked. Then he would give you a pint of beer so that you could piss it out.”

  David grinned as he watched Maurice’s body contract. He handed him a wastepaper basket just as Maurice began to throw up.

  “Still got a weak stomach, huh?”

  “You son of a bitch, they didn’t do that,” Maurice mumbled as he wiped off his face.

  “No, but in your case they should.” David’s back was turned as he dipped the swab in a culture dish. “Now get dressed. We have a lot to talk about.”