by Cortney Gee
I quickly donned some underwear and blue jeans. Then I applied some deodorant and Lagerfeld cologne before slipping into a blue Cleveland Indians jersey with a Chief Wahoo hat. Pacino was excited. His docked nub of a tail wagged furiously when I put on my red Air Max Trainers. I didn't know if he thought we were headed for a walk or overjoyed that I had washed my ass.
The travel gods had blessed me to be able to kennel my over grown puppy with my vet. After dropping him off, I headed east to catch my flight. Burbank Airport wasn't as large nor as congested as LAX. I was traveling light, so getting my ticket and going through security was a breeze. After a quick pat down, I was headed toward my gate and awaited boarding.
The mildly attractive brunette who took our tickets as we boarded the plane made a snide comment about my Indians gear. I figured her smug ass to be a snooty Dodgers fan and half smiled at her unwarranted remark.
Southwest's policy of choosing your own seat and no class destination found me in the emergency row for comfort. It was an hour long flight and I wasn't trying to be cramped. While the rest of the passengers embarked onto the 737 painted to look like Shamu, I rested my eyelids. I must have dozed off because when I awoke, there was the same brunette gate agent tapping my shoulder, stirring me.
"Yes. May I help you?" I questioned.
"Mr. Bernard, there seems to be a problem with payment. If you will be so kind as to follow me. I'm sure we can clear this up," she told me.
I played it cool getting off the plane. I was surprised to see two security guards waiting to assist me back up the jet way. Their presence didn't alarm me. I was always prepared with my explanation that I was traveling as an entertainer and had enough pocket cash to purchase passage. What I wasn't prepared for was the aircraft's door to be closed and my flight to be departing without me.
"This must be some misunderstanding. When is the next flight to Oakland?" I asked the brunette when she returned to the gate.
"Your method of payment was rejected. We have another flight that departs in thirty minutes and I can only accept cash as a method of payment."
She was lucky that the heat was on the Kwan currency and Karen had taken the last of it in my possession. Had that not been the case, I would have slid her two hundred worth of the fraudulent funds. She took my cash and printed me a ticket. I made a mental note to cross off the credit information that was burned up and awaited my flight. I rested my eyes again and fell into a deep sleep.
When I awoke in the uncomfortable chairs at my gate, I had missed my next flight.
"Motherfucker!" I exclaimed, as I watched my flight pull back from the gate through the large glass window.
"Excuse me, but that plane that just left? Was that the one headed to Oakland?"
"That would be it, yes, Mr. Bernard, we called you several times," said the brunette whom I was beginning to believe was a bad omen.
I explained to her that I was sitting in the chair sleeping. She, in turn, explained to me that waking me wasn’t her job as she rebooked me on the next flight.
Not trusting myself to stay awake, I purchased some black coffee from the restaurant by my gate. I was anxious to get to the Bay and it seemed the universe was working against my efforts. Or was the universe working to save me from a fate far worse than losing Jessica and my unborn child, I wondered.
The black liquid coursing through my system was doing its trick. I was wide-awake from the caffeine. When I walked up to board the next plane, I was pleased to see an attractive blonde taking my boarding pass instead of the raven-haired schleprock. When I sat down in my middle seat, I was grateful to be sandwiched in. At least I was securely on the plane and on my way.
"Well, if it isn't Mr. Funny Man." I looked up to see the sassy flight attendant from Phoenix.
"Oh, hey Jodi. How are you?"
"I'm fine, not that you'd care. I have to admit I was sure you would call me. But, nope, you didn't," she said in a manner so dry I could see sand as she headed to the front of the cabin. Now not only was I sitting between two big broads, but they were staring at me like I wasn't shit.
The woman next to me started speaking. "Young man, it ain't my business, but if I was you..."
She was right, my business didn’t have shit to do with her. Instead of being rude I acted as if I didn’t hear her and played some music over my headphones.
I was thankful that Jodi ignored my presence for the entirety of the flight.
Damned if the big bitch to my right in the window seat didn't have a weak bladder. We couldn't get to Oakland fast enough as far as I was concerned. When we touched down and pulled up at the jet way, I was first to get up and head for the door. Not having any bags kept me from wasting time at the baggage claim. I moved in speedy fashion, as quick as my ex-athletic legs and Air Max Nikes, could carry me through the arrival doors to hail a cab.
I couldn't believe how barren it was outside the terminal. Had I not been sure I was in Oakland, I would have thought I had landed in Tombstone. All that was missing was tumbleweed and Wyatt Earp.
"What's up? Why are there no cars lined up to pick up arriving passengers?" I asked the tall brother in police uniform.
"I heard there was a major accident on the exit. Traffic is backed up for miles. I'm sure as soon as they can clean up the wreckage, everything will be back to normal," he replied.
I called Jessica, even though I knew she wasn't answering her cell anymore.
"We're sorry, but at the subscriber's request this phone is not accepting incoming calls."
Had she already left before I could get here? Was she just not answering calls for fear her line was monitored? These questions played over and over again in my mind while I waited for a taxi.
People from my flight had begun to gather outside. There was grumbling amongst the crowd. Folks had begun making phone calls to their loved ones trying to figure how long they were going to have to wait to be picked up.
"You know everything is hotter in Phoenix, including this pussy I've tried to offer you that you've been ignoring."
Even if she hadn't given me GPS coordinates to her place of pleasure, I would have known it was Jodi behind me.
"I bet it is. I haven't been ignoring you. I've been really busy working on a television project and this tour. Please accept my apology," I replied.
The traffic must have been cleared, because before Jodi could engage me in a conversation I wasn't prepared or interested in having with her, I hailed a cab and her shuttle drove up.
"Keep it hot," I teased as I climbed into my cab.
"You just make sure to reach out and touch me," she quickly quipped back.
I gave the taxi driver the address to Jessica's condo and told him that there was a big tip in it for him if he got me there in a hurry. "If you get me there fast, the whole hundred is yours." I held up the bill with Ben Franklin on it.
My cabbie was properly motivated. He hauled ass getting me to my destination. I hoped and prayed that I wasn't too late.
I hopped out of the cab before it had come to a complete stop. I hurled my driver what I promised, and sped toward the double glass doors. When I entered the building, I pushed the button to call for the elevator.
What seemed like forever for the lift to come back down, made me forsake waiting. I sprinted up six flights of stairs. Sweat had formed on my forehead and I was short of breath. When I finally reached her door, I knocked three times. When there was no answer, I used the key that Jessica had given me and unlocked the door.
There was a stillness in the place that told me a truth I didn't want to believe. She was gone. So was my unborn child. So was the half million dollars in bad money.
I looked around the spacious condo. From the looks of things, Jessica had traveled lightly. Her walk-in closet looked rummaged through, but it still housed the wardrobe that could only fit her fine figure. I guess she figured her shape would soon change and the flashy gear would cause too much attention for someone on the lam.
After relie
ving myself in her bathroom, I walked into the dining room and sat at the table. Along with a glass, a bottle of Jack, and my favorite cigar, a Monte Cristo II, were the keys to both vehicles and the deed to the condo. There was also the last communication from my soul mate.
My second Dear John letter within a week.
I took the double shot I poured to the head and lit my stogie. I began reading her letter after blowing out a cloud of smoke.
Cameron,
I'm sorry I couldn't wait any longer for you to arrive. Time was of the essence and my window of opportunity was small and closing. I didn't want you to feel fucked over, so I'm leaving you the deed to my home and the titles to both my vehicles. I would have left you the cash, but as you could guess I will be in need of all the untraceable funds I can find.
I don't want you to think I've chosen anyone over you. It was that I couldn't fathom having our child behind bars. I would rather chance raising our baby on the run with Kwan watching over us. I won't tell you not to worry about us because if you love me like I believe you do I know you will.
I'll be in touch when the heat has cooled down.
Love You Always,
Jessica
Jessica's final message to me could have been taken one of two ways. One being a half million-dollar kiss off, but receiving the lovely parting gifts of two whips and a piece of property I didn't want. Or two, her love for me was real enough that running away from the law was her only option to keep both of us free.
I wanted to believe the latter was true.
I put a huge dent in the dark spirits from Kentucky and smoked the cigar down to the nub. My high from the Jack and my low from Jessica's departure paralyzed me. I couldn't get on a plane in that condition. I slept in the comfortable big sized bed that my lover and I would share no more.
I didn't know much about that night, but I was sure I had phoned Karen and Jessica several times. I vaguely remembered talking dirty to someone. I looked at my last outgoing call and it was a 602 number.
"Oh shit. I called Jodi!" I could only imagine the lunacy that my horny, lonely, drunk and depressed ass could have spoken.
I raised my cotton mouthed butt naked body from Jessica's bed and walked barefoot into the kitchen. My head wasn't pounding, but my pipes were hot. I opened the stainless steel door of the refrigerator and drank orange juice from the carton. If Jessica had been here, she would have freaked out. Sadly, she wasn't nor was she going to be, and it had me bugging!
The very thought, coupled with my boiling stomach ruined any appetite I might have had. I had to get my day going. There were decisions that had to be made. One being, what I was going to do with this condo. With Jessica gone and Tasha in a real relationship, having a crash pad in the Bay was senseless. I was either going to sell it or rent it out. My second problem was two-fold. I had two luxury cars at my disposal and only one me to drive them. I decided to drive the BMW back to L.A. and leave the Mercedes Benz to be driven back at a later date.
With my make shift plan in place, I jumped into the shower to wash away last night’s gloom.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
"You know they say a drunk ain't shit. You talked all that shit about what you wanted to do to me, then fell asleep and left me hanging. I waited for you to come to my hotel all night," said Jodi over the phone.
"I apologize for my naughty potty mouth last night. I was feeling some kinda way and that Jack didn't help," I replied as I navigated the Grapevine Highway South in the powerful sleek Bavarian motor car toward my Canoga Park home.
I purposely waited to call her when I was far enough away from Oakland to not be able to back up the talk my drunk dark-side had spewed. Though I was sure my penis was up to the task of rearranging her insides, my heart wouldn't have been in it. My heart was with someone somewhere with no extradition laws.
My heart was taken with Jessica.
"Oh, it's okay. I didn't mind at all your off-color commentary concerning what you wanted to do. I rather enjoyed that. Just know that next time I need to put my soul through the carwash, you owe me a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on."
"Agreed."
Jodi disconnected the phone call when she reached her departure gate. I was happy to get back to concentrating on the road and cranked up Bootsy's Greatest Hits cd. Between the roar of the V12 engine and the thunderous thump of Bootsy's bass, I was in road trip nirvana.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
"So Karen bounced to Georgia and Jessica is in the wind? Damn, that's some heavy shit, man," Marc said over the phone.
"Yeah. I don't know why I thought the universe was going to ignore all my bad karma and allow me to win," I replied, and sunk in my leather recliner.
"I don't know if it's safe to blame the universe. I mean, you still have your freedom and you just picked up a new piece of property and two nice whips."
"Marc, I never believed I would be saying this, but without the love of that woman, freedom doesn't mean shit," I replied, swirling around the Jack I had in a glass, and contemplating what I had just said while considering drowning my sorrows in brown liquor.
"You just need to get a new girl to take your mind off of your troubles. That Jodi chick sounds like just the medicine to cure your ills."
His suggestion was so typical. Fuck away my troubles, like pussy was the cure-all. In the past, that might have been the case. But I had tapped into something deeper with Jessica...that love and happiness Al Green sang about. My former shallow self was all that my friend could identify with. There was no way I could explain to Marc that Jessica loved me without being square. Marc would have written it off as me being pussy whipped for a week, maybe both.
We continued to talk.
I changed the course of the conversation by asking how he was digging his new housemate.
"Beijing is really liking L.A. She has hung up her six-inch heels and put her skimpy outfit days behind her."
"That's cool, man. You solid on bread? You know if you get in a bind, I'll look out. I might be a half a million short, but I can always look out for my folks," I told him before I had to cut the conversation short. Pacino was sniffing around looking for a spot to handle his business. I hurried to the kitchen and retrieved his black leather leash. We hustled out of the house and began to walk.
"I thought you had to really go badly and here you are smelling every sign post and fire hydrant," I scolded him, though my harsh tone didn't move him any. I'm sure if Pacino could talk, he would have told me to kiss his ass and wait for nature to take its course.
In my haste to make it out the door before Pacino had made my hardwood floors his litter box, I had forgotten to grab a plastic bag to collect his excrements. I also left my phone in the house. I knew better than to do either one. My uppity neighbors had come to my door complaining enough to train me.
While Pacino finally squatted and relieved himself, I looked aver both of my shoulders to see if anyone might have spotted him making his deposit. From what I could see, the coast was clear. We hustled back to my house, much to Pacino's dismay. He tried re-sniffing the whole block.
"If you don't bring your ass on," I spat, pulling him. When we entered the house, I took off his leash and put it back in the kitchen where I kept it.
I sat back in the black leather recliner and fumbled with the remote to my Sony stereo system. I was in the mood for some jazz. After selecting Miles Davis' “Bitches Brew,” the music and my mood made the Jack sitting on my coffee table all the more appealing. Before picking up Pacino from the vet’s after this last trip, I purchased some Parteguese Series D Robusto sticks from the Cigar Warehouse on Ventura Blvd. If I was going to be without my soul mate and children, Miles Davis, whiskey, and smoke were just going to have to do.
I had contemplated calling Karen again, but my pride couldn't take her ignoring me and feared if Karen had answered the phone, she would have detected my troubled soul. Yeah, it was just me and Pacino, a stiff drank, smoke and Miles. Pacino was sleeping at the door and
even he was awake. I was sure there would be no conversation between us. What worried me more would have been if he did begin to speak.
Maybe Marc was right. Maybe I didn't deserve happiness after making the decision to jettison my twin sons to pursue a life with Jessica and my unborn seed. But could it be that simple? I questioned as I knocked back the Jack and poured me another four fingers. My phone rang and the caller ID alerted me to Lisa being on the line.
I dreaded talking to her. As was her custom, she would have told me to tell the boys "hi" and ask how Karen was. I would have had two undesired choices to make. One being to tell her the truth and have her berate me, or two, lie to her, which would have found me beating myself up for not keeping it real. I took the cowardly approach and let her call go to voicemail.
Pacino was preening his ears, the hair on his back stood up, and a low growl was growing in his throat.
When the doorbell rang and Pacino's growl erupted in a full fledge bark. I figured it was one of my neighbors coming to scold me about not scooping poop.
"Hold on...I'm coming, I'm coming," I said lifting myself from the prone position in my Lazy Boy. "Give me a second, I need to put away the dog," I said, grabbing Pacino by the collar and putting him out back.
It didn't dawn on me that Pacino was alerting me to possible danger and putting him out back would leave me vulnerable to what or whoever was at my front door.
I opened the door fully prepared to apologize for my not being a good neighbor. "Hey, I'm sorry about the dog..."
"So you stepped up your security game I see."
I was at a loss for words. The cat at my door wasn't supposed to be at my house. He wasn't supposed to be in Los Angeles. I expected him to be anywhere but at my doorstep. Yet, there Lance was, smiling from ear to ear.
"I know I said we were even. But a brother could use a favor or two," he said, walking in.