The Pact

by Monica McKayhan

  Chapter 11

  Indigo

  Nana and I strolled down the Magnificent Mile, sunshine beaming down on our foreheads. We popped our heads into Filene’s Basement to look around a bit, and then stepped into Macy’s so that Nana could pick up a pair of panty hose for church on Sunday. Nana bought me a pair of sandals and a purse at Payless. And then we dropped into Barnes & Noble. We stopped at Gino’s for a pan of Chicago’s deep-dish pizza. At Gino’s the walls and tables were covered with graffiti. Everyone who ate there, no matter where they were from, left their names carved into the wooden tables and on the wall. There were so many names that I couldn’t even read them all. Nana and I sat at a table near the window, and I sipped an ice-cold root beer while we waited for our pizza.

  “So how did you enjoy your little outing the other night with Sabrina? Did you girls have a good time at the teen club she took you to?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Teen club? Sabrina had obviously made Nana believe that we were going to a teen club instead of the adult one we actually went to. I didn’t like lying to Nana, and so to avoid the conversation, I changed the subject.

  “You think we can take some pizza home for Uncle Keith, Nana?”

  “Child, Uncle Keith is a grown man and can take care of himself.” She chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe we will take him a slice or two—if there’s any left.”

  “You think he’ll ever find his own place and move out?”

  “I can only hope, sweet pea. Don’t look like it’s going to be anytime soon, though.”

  “I kinda like the thought of him being there with you…so you don’t have to be alone.”

  “I don’t mind being alone. I’ve been alone since the day your grandpa passed away.”

  “Do you get scared in the middle of the night sometimes…I mean in that big old house and all?”

  “Child, I have lived in that house since your daddy was ten years old. I know every little nook and cranny, and I recognize all the noises. There is nothing in that house that makes me afraid,” she said. “Now back to your little night out with Sabrina. I noticed you tried to avoid talking about it.”

  “I wasn’t trying to—”

  “Let me tell you something. I love Sabrina to death. I changed her diapers when she was a baby, just like I changed yours. But I don’t necessarily approve of that little lifestyle she got going on over there. Now, she asked me if you could hang out with her the other night, and I want you to have a good time while you’re here, but you won’t be hanging out with her that often. You understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “It’s not cute to have a two-year-old child at seventeen. Although I know we all make mistakes. But don’t you go getting all glassy-eyed over somebody else’s life.”

  “But, I didn’t say anything about—”

  “You didn’t have to say anything, missy. I know you better than you know yourself,” Nana said. “You make sure you stay in school and make good grades…and, Indi, continue to make good choices. You hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “That’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

  It was as if Nana had read my mind, because I did think that Sabrina had the perfect life. Even though she had made a mistake by getting pregnant and had disappointed her parents, she still had it going on, in my opinion. At seventeen she had her own apartment and could come and go as she pleased. She hung out with the big people in Chicago and had an older boyfriend—a hot older boyfriend. I’d have said she had more right in her favor than wrong.

  When the waitress placed our piping-hot pizza in the center of the table, it was still sizzling. I didn’t waste any time digging a slice out and placing it on my plate. Nana did the same, and we ate until we both were too stuffed to walk another block. Not to mention it had started pouring rain. I pulled my cell phone out and tried to reach Uncle Keith so he could pick us up, but he was nowhere to be found. At the curb, Nana hailed us a Yellow Cab, and we hopped into the backseat and headed home. As the rain trickled down the windshield of the cab, I thought about Sabrina and wondered how I could make my life turn out just like hers.

  Chapter 12

  Marcus

  The restaurant was decorated in bright yellow, red and orange. Spanish music played softly in the background, and Mexican spices were in the air. My stomach growled as I checked out what some of the other patrons were eating: tacos, enchiladas, burritos. Chips were being dipped into salsa, and wineglasses were being turned up by some of the ladies in the place. There was laughter in the air as we stood there waiting to be seated.

  “Hola, Leon!” A beautiful Hispanic woman approached, wearing very provocative clothing and bouncing her hips way too hard.

  “Hola, Marianna. ¿Cómo está?” Leon started speaking Spanish very fluently, and I was in awe.

  I remembered taking Spanish when I was in the eighth grade. I’d just barely passed with a low C. Spanish was not a class that interested me, and the teacher I’d had, Ms. Callahan, wasn’t a very good one in my opinion. Each day she loaded us down with homework assignments and projects that I didn’t understand, and she never even attempted to make the class interesting. Even though Ms. Callahan explained that it was essential that we learn a second language, I swore that I would never need Spanish again in life. But now I wanted to know what they were saying.

  “Estoy bien, Leon. ¿Y usted?” the woman responded, telling Leon that she was doing fine. She asked how he was doing.

  “Estoy bien,” Leon responded.

  As southwestern-style music continued to drift throughout the place, the Hispanic woman, who had round hips and large breasts, escorted us to a table near the window. Her face was a pretty vanilla color, and she had long, black, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her smile brightened the room, and deep dimples danced across her round cheeks. I could’ve sworn that she was flirting with Leon or he was flirting with her as I slid into the booth and opened my menu. I took a peek over the top of the menu and caught Leon giving Marianna a glance that made me want to pull my cell phone out and take a picture so that I could show my mother.

  “This is Marcus,” Leon said to Marianna.

  “Very nice to meet you, Marcus,” Marianna said in her broken English. “You’re a very handsome young man.”

  “Thank you,” I said to her, trying my best not to blush. I couldn’t help it.

  “What can I get you to drink, Marcus?” I just knew my face had turned beet red as Marianna flashed her award-winning smile my way. She was beautiful, and she made me nervous.

  “I’ll just have a Cherry Coke,” I told her.

  “I’m sorry, but we don’t have Cherry Coke.” She smiled. “I can bring you a Coke and add a cherry. How ’bout that?”

  I was mesmerized, and smiled back. “That’s cool.”

  I didn’t even drink regular Coke, but here I was ordering one. And when Marianna disappeared, I couldn’t help wishing she would return soon, just so I could look at her.

  “Snap out of it.” Leon laughed, and I wondered how long he’d been watching me watch her. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

  “She’s all right,” I lied, and then hid my face behind the menu.

  Browsing through the menu, I decided on a combination meal that included tacos, enchiladas and a chicken burrito. I had a huge appetite, and since Leon was paying, I didn’t mind ordering exactly what I wanted. I needed to check him out, anyway, see if he was the guy my mother thought he was. She kept raving about how wonderful Leon was…Leon this and Leon that. I needed to check him out for myself. It was her idea that we get together and get to know each other, but I was all for it. And what better way to do that than to hit him in his pockets, see if he was cheap. I wanted to feel him out, see if his intentions were good or if he was just a playboy out to stomp on my mother’s heart. I wasn’t having that, and I wanted him to know that up front.

  “So, Leon, do you have any kids?” I asked the question that had been burning in m
y mind since I first met him.

  “I have a daughter, Marcus. She’s about your age,” he said as he perused the menu. “Her name is Jasmine, and she lives in Maryland with her mother.”

  “Why doesn’t she live in Texas with you?”

  “Well, it doesn’t really work like that. Her mother wanted to have custody of her. She’s really better off living with her mother. Girls need that motherly love, you know what I mean?” he asked. “It’s just like you, living with your father. It’s always good for a young man to grow up around his father. Right?”

  “I guess,” I said, a million other questions zooming around in my head as Marianna brought our drinks.

  My eyes took in all of her as she placed my Coke with the cherry in it on the table. When she smiled my way, I began to blush again. Marianna had a strange effect on men, and I could tell that Leon felt it, too. It was as if the two of us were frozen in time as she took our orders. She disappeared, and I was glad because I needed to regain my composure before I lost all my cool points in front of the man I was supposed to be investigating.

  “Why do you live here instead of Maryland?” I asked. “What brought you to Texas?”

  “I came here to work for a law firm that made me a great offer, one that I couldn’t refuse.”

  “So you chose your career over being near your daughter?” I asked. “You sold out, huh?”

  “I didn’t sell out. I made a career choice that was best for both of us…my daughter and me. The more money I make, the better off Jasmine is.”

  “Even if it means you can’t see her that often?”

  “It’s really not that serious, Marcus,” Leon said. “I see Jasmine during the Christmas holidays and on spring break, and that’s plenty for us.”

  “Why did you break up with her mother?” I asked. I knew I was being nosy, but these were important questions that needed a response.

  “Well, Jasmine’s mother and I were divorced five years ago. She decided that my long hours did not work for her any longer. She accused me of being a workaholic,” he said. “That’s what I like about your mother. She’s a hard worker, too, and doesn’t mind my long hours.”

  I guess he had a point. Mom was definitely a workaholic. But in my opinion she needed someone to help her relax, not someone who was just like her. I sat there across the table from Leon trying to determine what it was that my mother saw in him. He was a normal-looking man—he wasn’t Denzel or anybody. It wasn’t his looks that attracted her to him, that was for sure. He was skinny, and didn’t appear to be someone who spent much time at the gym. He had money, but so did Mom. She was very successful and could buy just about anything she wanted. I had decided that Leon was a guy of mystery and it was up to me to crack the code.

  “Did your daughter have to go through therapy over your divorce?”

  “No. Over time, she was okay,” he said.

  “Well, I had to go to therapy when my parents got a divorce. My grades dropped and everything.”

  “But you snapped out of it eventually?”

  “Eventually, yeah.”

  “The important thing is, your parents are happier apart than they probably ever were together. I don’t believe that people should stay in unhealthy relationships just for the heck of it. Everybody loses in that situation.”

  I didn’t comment. I still believed that my parents could’ve made it work if they’d really wanted to. I think they gave up hope.

  “You play ball?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “I can play a little bit.” He smiled. “You wanna hit the courts later?”

  “Yeah, that would be cool.”

  I wondered if Leon could shoot hoops and couldn’t wait to get him out there on the court to find out. After dinner, we ended up at a local YMCA. In the locker room, Leon tossed me a pair of his old shorts and a T-shirt. Both of us changed quickly and rushed out onto the shiny buffed floor, where guys twice my age ran up and down the court. Some of them had bellies like Pop’s that hung over the elastic in their shorts. Leon’s legs were ashy and the size of light poles, and his shorts hung just past his knees. He ran out onto the court and joined his middle-aged buddies as they started running around and doing fancy moves like the Harlem Globetrotters.

  One of them yelled my way, “Hey, young blood, come on out here and get this whipping, boy.”

  He obviously didn’t know that I was Rufus Carter’s boy, the kid who’d played in every league there was since the time he was five years old. The one who could run rings around the best of them on a basketball court. The starting forward for his school’s basketball team. My right-hand layup was the prettiest in the entire Atlanta metro area, and they didn’t even know it. I doubted that any of these old guys could whip me, but it would be fun watching them try. I jogged out onto the court, and someone immediately tossed me the ball.

  “Take it out, boy,” the man said, and I did as I was told.

  I took the ball out and threw it to him. He dribbled down court, his belly bouncing with every movement. He and the other older men started passing it around to each other, tossing the ball behind their backs and dribbling between their legs. When it finally reached the last person, he tossed it into the basket with one hand, the ball rolling off his fingertips. To my surprise, these old guys were good, each displaying their own fancy jump shot. Even Leon could handle the ball like a pro, and I wondered if he had played on the team when he was in high school or college. I was worn-out by the time the game was over.

  The car reeked with perspiration and funk as Leon and I headed home in his Lincoln Navigator.

  “So did you have a good time, Marcus?” he asked.

  I couldn’t lie. I did have a good time. I had to admit, I had misjudged the old men on the court. I had misjudged Leon. I was so busy trying to find things that might be wrong with him that I forgot to find something right. I wasn’t sure if he would make a good husband for my mother, but one thing I knew—he could shoot some hoops.

  Chapter 13

  Marcus

  I splashed into the water feetfirst and then came back up for a breather. Michelle jumped in behind me. Andre turned a flip into the pool and landed just a few feet away from me. The girl from the other day—the one wearing the yellow bikini—tossed a beach ball into the water and then dove in after it. She ended up just inches from my legs.

  “Hi. Wanna play catch?” she asked.

  “I do!” Andre answered, even though she wasn’t talking to him.

  Her eyes were focused on me.

  “I’m Tiffany,” she said, and then tossed me the ball.

  “I’m Andre.” He swam over and shook her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Andre,” Tiffany said, and then looked at me. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Marcus.” I laughed at Andre. I would have to teach that boy how to keep his cool points, because he was losing them so fast, he was almost out of them. “And this is Michelle.”

  “Nice to meet you, Tiffany. You’re new around here,” Michelle said.

  “I just moved here from San Diego. My dad’s job transferred us, and so here I am. We live in Building C.”

  “I live in that building right there,” Michelle said, and pointed at our building.

  “I don’t live in this subdivision,” Andre said. “I live a few blocks away. I just come over here to swim in the pool.”

  “That’s nice,” Tiffany said. “So, Marcus, you live here?”

  “Yes, I just moved here from Atlanta,” I said. “I live in the same building as Michelle.”

  “So you’re staying, Marcus?” Michelle asked, a grin on her face.

  “Yeah, I think I might.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” Michelle splashed water in my face.

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to.” I splashed water in her face.

  Before I knew it, we were all splashing water at each other, having ourselves a nice little water fight. I laughed harder than I had in a long time after I dunked Michelle’s h
ead underwater. She threw water at me in retaliation. Tiffany jumped on my back and tried to dunk me, but she didn’t have enough strength. Instead, I put her in a choke hold and dunked her. When she came back up, she splashed me and I ducked. Instead of hitting me, the water splashed across Andre’s face, and he grabbed Tiffany’s legs and pulled her under. We were all laughing and having fun. I barely heard the screech of the whistle and almost didn’t see Rena standing at the edge of the pool with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

  “No horseplay in the pool,” she said. “Either cut it out or I’ll have to ask you all to get out.”

  Everyone stared quietly at her. After she walked away, we all busted out laughing. I grabbed the beach ball and tossed it at Tiffany. She caught it and then tossed it to Andre. Andre tossed the red, white and blue ball to Michelle, and we continued like that until we got bored. Horseplay, as Rena put it, was so much more fun.

  “Let’s go to my house and watch DVDs,” Tiffany finally said. “Maybe we can even order a pizza.”

  “What kind of DVDs you got?” I asked.

  “I have everything you can think of. All of Tyler Perry’s movies, including a bootleg copy of Why Did I Get Married?”

  “That movie was so good,” Michelle said. “I saw it twice at the theater.”

  “It was pretty good,” Andre said, “but what kind of action-packed stuff do you have?”

  “I have a few Bruce Willis action flicks. Most of them are old, though.”

  “That’s cool,” I said. “I can get down with some pizza.”

  “How much does something like that cost…pizza, I mean?” Andre asked, and dug deep into the pockets of his trunks, as if he actually had some cash there. “Because I have like…zero dollars.”