Lookin' For Luv

by Carl Weber

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” The officer smiled at his partner. “And just where is this tape, sir?”

  “It’s in the safe in my home. I can take you there to get it right now if you’d like.”

  “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Johnson. But just to make sure I’m getting this right. You are admitting to having sex with Miss Gordon?”

  “Yes, I did have sex with her, but it was consensual.”

  “Mr. Johnson, would you place your hands behind your head?”

  “What? Why?” Maurice pulled his hands away from the officer.

  “You’re under arrest for the rape of Valerie Gordon.”

  “I didn’t rape her! I told you it was consensual. Look at the tape.”

  “Valerie Gordon couldn’t consent, Mr. Johnson. She’s only sixteen, and that makes you a statutory rapist among other things.”

  “She told me she was twenty-one!” Maurice cried.

  “Next time maybe you’ll ask for ID. If there is a next time.” The tall officer chuckled.

  Maurice was in shock as the officers cuffed him and read him his rights. He was led out of the school in handcuffs for the entire student body and faculty to view. And if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Tyrone and Sylvia were standing at the school exit when the police brought him out of the building.

  The next day Sylvia pulled her car into an illegal parking space and ran up the stairs to Tyrone’s apartment. She dropped her key three times before getting it in the door, and she was bubbling with excitement as she finally turned the knob. She’d just left the post office, where she received a very important certified letter.

  “Tyrone!” she screamed, bursting into the studio apartment. Tyrone was sitting at his easel, painting a picture of his two daughters, and immediately jumped out of his chair.

  “What? What is it?” he asked, concerned. “Somebody bothering you outside?”

  “No,” she said breathlessly as she raced toward him, “but I’ve got the answer to all your dreams right here in my hand.” She waved the manila envelope in the air.

  “What are you talkin’ about, Syl?” She reached into the envelope and pulled out a smaller one, addressed to Tyrone. She handed it to him with a huge grin.

  Tyrone ripped the envelope open quickly and pulled out a letter.

  Dear Mr. Jefferson,

  It was a pleasure speaking to your agent, Sylvia Johnson. She has been a good friend for years and, I must say, a very tough negotiator. As you know, we had preliminary talks at Bernard memorial before “Children of Color” was destroyed. Now that I’ve had the opportunity to see your portfolio, I would like to offer you an exclusive contract to handle your work. Enclosed you will find a check for $100,000 as an advance. Ms. Johnson will be express-mailed the remaining contracts within the next few days.

  I look forward to having you as part of the Walter Black family of artists.

  Sincerely,

  Walter Black, Jr.

  “Is this what I think it is?” Tyrone’s eyes were wide with wonder.

  Sylvia nodded, waving the check for him to see.

  Tears began to roll down Tyrone’s face. He stood speechless with the woman he loved, staring at the picture he’d been painting of his daughters. Sylvia wrapped her arms around him, grateful that all the pieces were finally falling into place for her man.

  36

  ANTOINE AND KEISHA

  Antoine sat in his living room, staring at an unopened envelope from the Washington, D.C., school district. Impressed by the recent effort Tyrone made to further his art career, Antoine had decided to take a step up the education ladder and try for an administrative position. He had sent his resumé to over a dozen districts that had advertised openings for school principals. In the last two weeks he had received five envelopes similar to the one he was holding in his hands, and he was afraid this would be another nicely worded rejection. When he just couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, he tore open the envelope and read the letter inside.

  Dear Mr. Smith,

  Thank you very much for interviewing with the greater Washington, D.C., school district. After long consideration, we would like to offer you the position of principal of our new high school for literature and mathematics. As you probably know, the board was impressed with your curriculum ideas and strategies for increasing S.A.T. test scores, evidenced by your success in increasing the scores in your present school.

  We understand that a decision of this magnitude takes time, so we don’t expect an answer right away. But please understand that the district would like to have someone in place by the end of this school year. I look forward to hearing your answer within the next few weeks.

  Sincerely,

  John Diamond

  Superintendent of the

  Washington D.C. Schools

  “Yes! Yes!” Antoine jumped in the air, shouting. He headed for the door and ran down the stairs to Keisha’s apartment. Opening her door with his key, he danced his way into her apartment.

  “Keisha, honey, where are you?”

  “In the kitchen, Antoine.”

  Antoine ran into the kitchen and found her cooking dinner He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her gently.

  “Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes.” She closed her eyes and enjoyed his soft kisses against her neck. “Antoine, hon, you’d better stop or I’m gonna burn this chicken.”

  “Let it burn. I’m taking you out to dinner tonight anyway.” He placed kisses all over her neck and shoulders.

  “What’s gotten into you?” Keisha turned off the stove and faced him.

  “I was just offered a job as principal of a high school!”

  “Oh, Antoine, I’m so proud of you.” She kissed him excitedly. “I guess that means if I’m bad, I’m gonna have to go to the principal’s office.”

  “Yeah, I’m going to have to come up with a real special punishment for a bad seed like you.”

  “So what borough are you going to be in, sweetheart?” she asked as she led him into the bedroom.

  “I’m not. I’m probably going to have to move to D.C. at the end of the school year,” he replied, unbuckling his pants.

  “What?” she barked, snapping her head toward Antoine as her skirt hit the ground.

  “I’m moving to D.C. You knew I applied to a school district in D.C. I thought you’d be happy for me.”

  “You said D.C. was a last resort! There’s over a hundred high schools in New York City alone. What about the schools in Long Island you applied to?”

  “The city schools wouldn’t give me fair shake without a recommendation from Maurice, and the Long Island schools all hire from within.”

  “Well, maybe that was true when you sent out your applications, but what about now? Maurice is in jail. They should be givin’ you his job anyway.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Keisha? Wait around to see if they would consider me for that job? Opportunities like the one in D.C. don’t come around every day. I can’t just pass it up because of what might happen.”

  “Antoine, you can’t move to D.C.” She had stopped undressing by this point in the conversation.

  “What do you mean, I can’t? Look, Keisha, you’re my girlfriend, not my mother. Don’t you ever tell me what I can or cannot do,” he said angrily. “I don’t tell you what to do with your beauty shop. Don’t tell me what to do with my career.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I been bustin’ my ass, trying to conform to what you think a good woman should be, ever since we started going out. Then you give me shit because I want you here with me and your fucking baby? Fuck you, Antoine!”

  Behind all the attitude she was throwing, Keisha was close to tears.

  “You must think you’re talking to one of those girls in your shop. Don’t you dare use that kind of language with me.” He hesitated, then grabbed her shoulders. The true gist of her statement finally sunk in. “Baby! Oh, shit! Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”


  She nodded, looking down at the floor.

  “When the hell were you going to tell me? On the way to the delivery room? Jesus Christ! This can’t be happening.”

  “I just found out this morning when I went to the doctor. Why the fuck you trippin’ anyway? You’re gonna be a great father.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to be a father. You ever think about that? God! How the hell did this happen anyway?”

  “How the fuck you think it happened? You stuck your dick in me.”

  “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” he accused.

  “No, I didn’t do it on purpose! But I’m not ashamed of it. I’m thirty-five years old, Antoine. How many more chances am I gonna get to have a baby?”

  “Damn! Why couldn’t you have waited till we were married?” He was in a state of panic.

  “Because you never asked me to marry you. You’ve been layin’ up with me for over four months and I haven’t even heard you say, ‘I love you’ once. So why the fuck would I think you’re going to marry me?”

  Her words struck Antoine deeply. There was no way he could deny that they were true. In the time they had been together, she had told him she loved him on several occasions, but he just could not bring himself to say it to her.

  “You know how I feel about you, Keisha. I just don’t want a baby right now. This whole thing’s just going to fuck up my life.”

  She gasped, devastated that he could think their child would ruin his life. It made her furious that he was being so selfish.

  “If you were so damned worried about me getting pregnant, how come you never used a condom or even asked me about birth control?”

  “Birth control’s a woman’s job, not a man’s,” he argued, pounding his fist against the wall.

  “Oh, my God! I know you don’t believe that, do you? How can one man be so smart and so stupid at the same time?”

  “I don’t know what I believe. I’m not even sure if this baby is mine.” He regretted the comment as soon as he said it.

  Keisha, enraged, began to sob as she grabbed a heavy book from a shelf and threw it at him.

  “Motherfucker, if you don’t wanna be this baby’s daddy, you don’t have to be. But don’t you ever accuse me of being a slut. Now get the fuck out my apartment!” she screeched.

  He thought about apologizing for his last comment, but Keisha gave him no time as she continued her tirade.

  “You oughta be happy I can have your baby. That’s more than I can say about the last bitch you fucked with!” She grabbed her crotch as if she were a man.

  Antoine was too distraught to even ask her what the gesture was supposed to mean. He put on his clothes and walked out of her apartment back to his own. He was numb. He never expected to conceive a child out of wedlock. The truth was, Keisha was right. He had been stupid.

  In his apartment he slumped on the couch. He wondered how he could have had sex with her for months and not ever talked to her about birth control. He was not ready to be a father, and now he was feeling trapped because of his own stupid mistake. He picked up the phone and dialed Kevin’s number.

  “Hello,” Kevin answered, breathing hard.

  “Hey, Kev, this Antoine. You got a minute? I really need to talk.”

  “I’m kinda busy, Antoine. Can I call you back in about a half hour?” He was still breathing hard, and Antoine wondered if Kevin had gotten back with Denise when he heard a female voice in the background calling “Hang up the phone, loverman. I want some more.”

  “Okay, just make sure you call me back. Keisha’s pregnant,” he blurted out. The words had shocked Antoine with their directness, and they must have floored Kevin. There was silence on Kevin’s end of the call.

  “Kevin, did you hear me?”

  “Sorry about that. I had to go to another room to get some privacy. Did you say Keisha’s pregnant?”

  “Yeah, she is. And I don’t know what I’m going to do. Think you can sneak out and have a drink? I really need to talk things out.”

  “No problem, Antoine. You know I’m here for you, bro. But you should talk to Tyrone, not me.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Kevin. Tyrone’s my best friend next to you, but you said it best yourself. We’re like the devil and the angel. We never see eye to eye on anything.”

  “Look, Antoine, Tyrone’s matured a lot since he’s been with Sylvia. Plus, I don’t know anything about kids. You guys keep forgettin’ I’m only twenty-three. He’s been in your position two times, and you’ve seen what kind of father he is. Look, he’s gonna be at the school until nine. Miles is letting him clean out his locker. Why don’t you run on over there and talk to him?”

  Antoine had long forgotten how young Kevin was. He had taken for granted that his friend was older because of the maturity with which he carried himself. But young or not, he was right. Tyrone had more experience than both of them when it came to dealing with pregnancy and children. Antoine just hoped his friend could put aside the jokes for once, because he knew he would not be in a humorous mood.

  “You’re right, Kevin. I’m going to catch a cab over to the school right now.”

  Antoine walked down to the cabstand next to Benny’s Bar, at the comer of his block. He asked the dispatcher for a cab, then stepped outside to wait.

  “Antoine, what’s up, my man?” Benny the bartender was standing in the doorway of his bar and had spotted Antoine on the sidewalk.

  “Hi, Benny, how you doin’?” Antoine walked over to shake his hand.

  “Good, real good. I heard you and Keisha hooked up. Now, that’s what I call a woman. You better watch out. A girl like that will get you into trouble.” He winked.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Antoine replied sadly, but the sentiment went unnoticed by Benny.

  “Ay, whatever happened to that stripper, uh, I mean makeup woman, you used to go with?”

  “Man, we’d probably be planning our wedding now if she had quit her job at the Men’s Club, but I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “No problem, man.” Benny said good-bye and walked back into his bar.

  Antoine’s cab pulled up to the sidewalk, and he climbed in the backseat.

  “Where to, boss man?” the cabdriver asked in a heavy foreign accent.

  Antoine hesitated for a second. He had intended to go straight to the school to seek Tyrone’s advice about the baby, but now he knew he had something else to work out first. He could not begin to make decisions about his impending fatherhood until he was certain that there was no chance for him and Shawna to be together.

  “Six fifty-four Highland Avenue in Jamaica. I’m going to see an old friend.”

  37

  ANTOINE AND SHAWNA

  During the ride to Shawna’s apartment, Antoine changed his mind about fifty times and almost told the driver to turn around and bring him home. But he knew that if he didn’t face the situation then, it would come back to bite him later. And even though he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about Keisha, he knew he at least owed her a true explanation of his feelings. So he continued his cab ride to Shawna’s in the hope that he would be able to sort out his confused feelings.

  As the cab arrived in front of Shawna’s apartment, Antoine paid the driver, his hands shaking nervously as he handed over the money. The cabdriver smiled gratefully when he told him to keep the change. In his anxious state he didn’t notice that he had handed the man a twenty-dollar bill for an eight-dollar ride. He stepped out of the cab and walked slowly up the pathway, each step full of fear and anticipation.

  “Who is it?” Shawna asked when she heard his knock.

  “It’s Antoine, Shawna. Can I come in?”

  Shawna couldn’t believe he was standing outside her door. A million thoughts ran through her mind at once. She missed him deeply and was overjoyed that he was there to-see her. He had been her first real boyfriend and she could not deny the love she still felt for him. But her happiness was tainted, because she knew that if she ac
ted on her love and reconciled with him, Keisha would surely tell her secret to exact some revenge. As she looked through the peephole, her defenses melted with the sight of that baby face that she loved so much. There was no way she could ask him to leave without talking to him.

  “To hell with Keisha,” she thought. “I’ll figure that out later.”

  “Just a minute, Antoine.” She straightened out her tight-fitting dress and took a deep breath, praying silently that he and Keisha had broken up.

  Unconsciously she arched her back slightly, so the first thing he noticed when the door opened were her much-enhanced breasts.

  “Hi, Antoine, it’s good to see you. What brings you over to this side of town?” she asked as casually as she could.

  For a second he was speechless. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she looked with her face recently made up and her hair in braids. And as much as he tried not to stare, his eyes were drawn immediately to her shapely new breasts.

  Shawna blushed. There was no doubt about what he was looking at.

  “Like the new addition?” she asked proudly, doing a quick model turn right there in the doorway.

  Her boldness embarrassed Antoine, and he tried to take his eyes off her chest and look her in the eye. Almost involuntarily they traveled straight back down to her new curves. Shawna adored all the attention and could have stood there to let him stare all day, but she spotted her nosy landlord peering at them from his garden. So she invited Antoine inside.

  Nervously he stepped into her apartment and walked straight to the love seat in her tastefully decorated living room. The colors were muted pastels, the paintings that hung on the walls were mostly still lifes. As he looked around the room, he happily noticed that his pictures were still hung throughout. It felt good to know she still thought about him.