Fool, Stop Trippin'

by McKinney, Tina Brooks

  “So how do we get started?” Now I am eager.

  “Don’t you want to think about it for a while?”

  “No. I’ve done enough thinking. It’s about action now. Plus, I don’t know how long I’m going to be with you. They’ve bumped my trial up to this evening.”

  “Dag, they got you on a fast track. That ain’t necessarily a good thing.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Okay. I need some information from you. I need your full name and address, your date of birth, and the exact nature of the problem you’ve had with the person you want to put a spell on. I will also need his name, address, and date of birth. Make sure you write a statement as to what you want this spell to do for you, and I will start working on the rest.”

  “Wow, that’s it?”

  “For now. Oh and I need a lock of his hair or some other personal item.”

  “Will a sample of his blood work? Some of it got on my bra when I stabbed him.”

  “That’s perfect. Here’s some paper.” I take the pencil and paper and begin writing down the things Chauncey asked for. I was surprised that he is allowed to have these items in his cell but something tells me to expect the unexpected with Chauncey.

  “Shit, what do I put down for an address? Remember my apartment burned down. That’s what got me here in the first place.”

  “It’s still your residence. It’s where all your stuff is, burnt to a crisp or not.”

  “I don’t know his address either. We haven’t lived together for several months. He claims he is living at his mother’s house, but I doubt that.”

  “That’s not as important since you have his blood. Blood is the most powerful talisman in black magic.”

  “Talisman? I thought a talisman was an object, like an amulet or good luck charm.”

  “It can be. It all depends on what type of magic you’re practicing.” He is chuckling as if he said something funny and I begin to feel uneasy even talking to him.

  My mind is whirling a mile a minute. If I can use black magic on Kentee, I have to decide what it is that I want. Do I want him to be my love slave, or do I want to destroy every relationship he has after me?

  “I want a little bit of both. I want him to be impotent around any female except me. I want to ruin him financially and I want women to be repulsed by him.”

  “Do you want me to make him have an urge for men? Ummm…that could be fun.”

  “Naw, I ain’t trying to waste a good dick. Sorry.”

  “Well, if I were you, I would rethink this ‘financial ruin’ business ’cause a broke nigga ain’t no good to ya!”

  “Yeah, you have a point. I don’t want to be taking care of his grown ass.”

  “I know that’s right. That is the first thing that will foil a relationship, if the finances are fucked.”

  “Thanks, good looking out. When can we begin?”

  “Well, we don’t want to start the love spell until you get out of here because he will be trying to break in this mother-fucker and both of ya’ll asses will be stuck. But we can start the others right away. I just have to get a few key items.”

  “Wow, this is the best news I’ve heard since I’ve been in this bitch.”

  “Well, you be sure what you ask for is what you want because once we’ve started, there is no turning back.”

  Leah

  “I is married now!” I say out loud, admiring my ring as we travel back to Atlanta. But questions flood my brain and although I’m not ready to ask them, I feel I need to before we get home.

  “Craig, how are we going to do this marriage thing?”

  “I don’t understand, boo. What do you mean?”

  “Where will we live? How do we handle business?”

  “We will work it out, baby. Let’s just wait to get back to ATL before we start discussing the nitty gritty, but the logical choice of where we live is my house. We can talk about it later.”

  Instinctively, my backbone stiffens. I don’t want to be in another situation where I have no say-so in my house, nor do I want to put myself and my kids in a position where we can get kicked out at will.

  “Leah, I know what you are thinking. I am going to put the house in both of our names regardless of what it costs. I will not put you back in the same situation you were in before. And we ain’t going to be doing that dumb shit anyway. You are my wife for life.”

  Immediately, I feel at ease. Craig understands my painful past and is smart enough to know that I don’t want to repeat that behavior. That alone speaks volumes to me about my new choice in a husband. We stop at Waffle House to have breakfast. We choose to sit next to each other and even though it is a tight fit, I am glad to be sitting next to my husband instead of just being across from him. Living in his home is the best choice, although I am worried about all his beautiful things.

  When we are back on the road again my mind gets to clicking. Unable to put aside my fears, I continue to have doubts. Not about our marriage, but about the people who will be affected by it.

  “What about your ex? Do you think she is going to bring us drama?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know. But you are my wife and I ain’t going to tolerate no bullshit from her or your ex-husband. He is going to have to step off. I know he will have to see his children, but I will not allow him in our relationship.”

  “Hell, I won’t allow him in our relationship either. He chose the path that he wanted to take, so he can kiss my natural black ass as I twirl around in circles.”

  “Oh, no he can’t. That’s my natural black ass now.”

  “Craig, you know what I mean.” I punch him gently on the shoulder. Secretly I am happy at his playful possessiveness.

  “Oh, married less than twenty-four hours and already you are abusing me. What in the world have I gotten myself into?”

  “You can pull this car over and I’ll show you.”

  The car swerves to the right as Craig pretends to pull onto the shoulder, but he rights the car and keeps on driving.

  “I’ll wait because you know what they say about anticipation.”

  “Yeah, making you wait ain’t a bad idea.”

  We fall into a comfortable silence and I pull my book out of my carry-on bag. I am a read-a-holic and if I have the time, a book is stuck in my face. I am reading Pretty Evil by Lexi Davis. This is her first novel and her approach to her story is different and fresh. She has mixed the supernatural with a little comedy and I am enjoying it.

  “So how do you think your family will react?” I guess Craig is having a little trouble letting the details go too.

  “Mom may be a little pissed because she wasn’t invited but she’ll get over it. I know the kids will be cool since they are already in love with you.”

  “We’ll make it up to them with a huge reception. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds like I thought of it myself.”

  “And don’t forget we have to have a honeymoon.”

  “I thought we just did!”

  “No, baby, not like this. We have to take it to another level. Prior to meeting you, I promised myself that I would never marry again. You and your children changed my heart completely, so I want the world to know about it.”

  “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Did I tell you how much I loved you today?”

  “‘Loved,’ as in past tense? Are you over me already before the honeymoon?”

  “No, silly, you know what I mean.” I lightly punch him on the arm again.

  “I’m just saying, woman, you are going to be with me for the rest of our lives and you better get used to it.”

  “I love the way that sounds and when we get somewhere that I can show you, I’m gonna prove it to you!”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “No, my dear husband, it’s a promise. I don’t make threats.”

  Craig’s mouth opens and quickly shuts without any words coming out. Hah, I thought to myself. I shut his ass up. We
aren’t far from home and already I am planning on ways to seduce him.

  “Do you wanna stop by and pick up the kids before we go home or will tomorrow be soon enough?”

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough. It seems that I have something to prove to you that does not need witnesses.” Craig chuckles deep in his throat and rubs his hand up and down my leg, igniting a fire that I am prepared to put out as soon as we get to a private place.

  I root through my bag searching for my cell phone to make sure that everything is okay. I turned it off on Friday because I didn’t want anything to disturb my weekend with Craig. After a frantic search, I find it. I have seventeen messages, which is not a good sign since hardly anyone calls me on my cell. I chastise myself for being so selfish in turning it off in the first place. I’m on pins and needles as I listen to the messages.

  “Hey, Mommy, are you and Mr. Craig having fun? I’m having fun with Grandma.” I smile.

  “Hey, Mommy, Daddy is going to pick us up and we are going to spend the night with him. I love you.” Again the message is from Kayla. I smile again. I’m not upset that they were spending the night with their father because I had laid down the rules for Kentee. I feel confident that he would not jeopardize his visitation on anything foolish.

  Message three says, “Hey, Mommy, I love you. I hope you are having a good time.”

  Message four. “Mommy, the house is on fire.” Kayla’s voice is shrill and hurts my ears. I almost drop the phone because the message is so unexpected. I don’t know if she meant her grand-mother’s house or Kentee’s. Frantically, I pushed the buttons to hear the next message.

  “Mommy, where are you? I’m scared.” She didn’t say if anyone was hurt or anything. Craig notices my worried look and pulls the car over.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? You look like you have seen a ghost.” I wave at him to keep driving and he pulls back into traffic with his attention divided between me and the road. I heard him, but I cannot answer him. I have to hear the next few messages. My breathing is labored. Craig drives until we reach the exit, stopping at a gas station.

  Message six. “Baby, it’s Mom. Call me as soon as you get this message.” My stomach turns over but at least I know she is safe.

  Message seven. “Oh dear, Leah, I didn’t know that Kayla was calling you. Don’t panic. Everyone is fine, but we do need to speak with you as soon as possible. Don’t worry, sweetheart. Things are under control, but you need to know…” The message stops as if her phone died.

  Message eight. “Leah, it’s Kentee. I need to speak with you. Call me back please.”

  Message nine. “Leah, please…call me…I have to know…” I am sure Kentee hung up just to piss me off.

  Message ten. “Dammit, Leah, answer the fucking phone!” Kentee screamed.

  “We have to go to my mother’s house now. Something has happened and I can’t make it out.” I am trying to hold all my emotions in check, but something is very wrong. The rest of the messages are hang-ups.

  Leah

  The drive back to Peachtree City takes forever. I cannot relax or lose myself in sleep as I did when we first started our trip because my mind is in turmoil. Craig’s holding my hand tightly and is my pillar of strength. Every now and then he looks over at me and gives me an encouraging smile. My heart is swelling with love for him as I attempt to smile back while fighting tears of anguish. Through it all, he is managing not to break the law. I know that he is just as worried as I am, but he does not let it show.

  “How much farther?”

  “Sweetie, we have only traveled about ten miles since the last time you asked me. I know this is tough, but we will get there.”

  “I know I am being a pest, but my mind is racing a mile a minute.”

  “Obviously if it were a life-or-death situation, or if Mya was hurt, your mother would have called us back. I trust her enough to know that whatever the situation is, she has it under control.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. Why don’t you pull out one of those smutty novels that you are always reading and try to relax? We will be there before you know it.”

  Easier said than done, but I attempt to do as he suggests. It is easier to read than to think of all the what-ifs that are floating around in my mind. I search through my carry-on bag to find my worn copy of Pretty Evil. If this book can’t keep my mind off my troubles, nothing will.

  Craig drives until we almost run out of gas, but I hardly notice. I don’t realize that I have to go to the bathroom until we pull into a gas station and I see the icon of a lady on the wall. I jump out of the car without even bothering to grab my purse. I can hear Craig laughing behind me.

  I dash into the gas station and bum-rush the door praying the whole time that it will be empty. It takes all I have to run upright and not bend over while trying to hold my water. It isn’t until I am perched over the toilet seat that I realize that we are almost home. Craig only had to fill up one time on our way to the casino, so I assume we will be home within the hour.

  My stomach is starting to get queasy again and I fight the wave of nausea that is threatening to overcome me. I wash my hands and walk through the store as calmly as I can when I exit.

  “Everything come out okay?” Craig asks after I return to the car.

  “Smarty pants.”

  “I have to go too, but, I refused to walk in their carrying your purse.” I look down at the floor and remember that I had left it in the car. I smile as Craig goes into the gas station. He comes back with my favorite junk foods: Twizzlers, Sour Patches and Doritos.

  “God bless you.” I grab the bag of junk and rip open the bag of Twizzlers, pulling out a few before handing him the bag. I have turned him into a junk-food junkie as well. I resist the urge to ask how much farther and pick up my book. Craig rests his free hand on my thigh.

  “Are you all right? Do you want me to drive?”

  “I’m fine, baby. Finish your book. We will be home in no time.”

  “Home, I like the sound of that.” I shake away my dread at what could be waiting for us there.

  Jasmine

  It is only ten in the morning and already I have run out of things to do. Fighting depression, I decide to go to the gym. Things didn’t turn out quite like I expected at the cookout. While I had been trying to cheer up Sammie, I was suffering through the worst male drought I’ve ever experienced.

  While Sammie took Aunt Rosa’s comment as a barb aimed at her, I took it as a direct hit against me. She was implying I cannot keep a man and I am beginning to believe her. Ever since my divorce, I’ve had a series of one-night stands, but no one has held my interest longer than a month. Even though Aunt Rosa hasn’t had a man since the turn of the century, her words still had bite. Everybody has a man but me. Even Momma is getting back into the groove of things. Sammie was driving me crazy with her pity parties, so last night I turned off the phone. She was flip-flopping around on whether or not Buddy is her ideal mate. I had my own issues to deal with, so I took the night off for myself. I had only switched the phone back on for a second when it started ringing.

  “Hey, girl, whatcha up to?” Sammie asks.

  “I’m on my way to the gym.”

  “Girl, you stay in that gym. It ain’t like you got to work on your body with the way you be slinging that ass!”

  “Well, in order to keep slinging this ass, I got to put in a little work. Besides, working out is not the only reason why I go to the gym. It’s like forty percent working out and sixty percent shopping.”

  “Shopping? You’ve lost me.”

  “I go to the gym when I am horny and looking for a quick fix.”

  “Oh Lawd, I have heard everything now.”

  “Girl, I can’t believe you didn’t know this. I mean, that’s the very best place to scope out your next lover.”

  “Enlighten me, because I ain’t never heard no shit like that.”

  “As a rule, you want a man who can do at least one-hundred-fifty push-
ups without passing out or quitting. ’Cause a man who can do that will be just a man who will be underneath you and expect you to do the work.”

  “Dayum, I never thought of that!”

  “He also needs to be able to bench press at least two-hundred-and-fifty pounds ’cause you want to make sure he can lift you onto the dick and hold you there while you take a ride. While he is on the bench, check out the package. If he got anything, you’ll see the imprint while he’s lying flat on his back.”

  “Oh, stop, you’re killing me. Where did you come up with this shit?”

  “Girl, men have been doing this for years. I just figured it out.”

  “What else should I look for?”

  “I make sure that they can squat down and stay in that position for a while. That shows me he has staying power and can go the distance. Add looks to that and you’ve got the perfect male for a little afternoon fun.”

  “But what if he is gay? I heard a lot of those muscle-builders are really gay.”

  “I ain’t looking for a muscle-builder I just want a man who can perform for me when the time is right. Besides, I’ve thought of that too. This is Atlanta after all.”

  “Oh, no you didn’t just point Atlanta out on the gaydar chart.”

  “I’m not saying that Atlanta is the gay capital of the world but just in case it is, I have a way to protect myself. I find a way to make him drop off something to eat at my hairdresser’s before I sleep with him.”

  “Your hairdresser?”

  “Yeah, child, he can spot a gay man at twenty thousand feet.” Sammie drops the phone and I can hear her laughing hysterically. After a few seconds she gets back on the line.

  “Where do I go to sign up?”

  “Shut up, you’ve got a man.”

  “Yeah, Buddy is cool, but sometimes he ain’t feeling me.” Sammie sighs.

  “Girl, that nigga loves your dirty drawers! Stop trippin’.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, but he ain’t in tune with my sexual desires. I get tired of telling him what I want all the time.”