Gumbo

by Tiana Laveen

  He took another sip of the wine before continuing.

  “Then, the money started getting low. Mom didn’t have much to send me; the money I had saved up was pretty much exhausted and without me helping to pay any bills, she was on her own. So I had no one to help me, but I needed things. Some of the guys had jobs, like in the kitchen, cleaning, stuff like that, but you had to have a squeaky-clean record to be chosen for that sort of thing—I’d already been in a couple of fights by that point and not only that, you had to have seniority. So, I started drawing for some of the inmates. Homemade greeting cards, portraits, shit like that, to make money. Then, this guy named Dennis was about to get out. He was an artist, too, but he did tattoos. I didn’t know shit about tattooing, especially not prison tattoos, but he showed me how, or at least explained it.

  “I ended up being a natural at it. It was one of my favorite things to do. Okay, I much preferred pencil and paper, but that’s where the bigger bucks were at. So, I used art to get money, keep people off my back and be valuable enough that most didn’t want to start any shit with me. If you have a much-desired trade, basically, you can make it and the time goes by faster.”

  Cassidy was both intrigued and heartbroken by his story.

  “That makes sense.”

  “Yeah, so five years came ’round and I had a hearing to see if I could get paroled. They denied it, which shocked everyone, including my mother and lawyer. I had been on my best behavior, besides the illegal tattooing of course.” He smirked. “But I tried to come across as remorseful, learned my lesson, all that jazz. The board didn’t believe me.”

  “You said tried to come across as remorseful. You mean you don’t regret shooting Street?” She couldn’t believe it. How could he not feel regret about such a thing, after all of this time and what he’d endured?

  “Cassidy, I’m going to be 100% honest with you. I only feel somewhat remorseful over it because I lost you in the process.” Their gazes hooked, then he turned away. “If there was a sure way I could have still offed his ass after he killed Maize and got away with it, I’d do it all over again in a fuckin’ heartbeat.” Sadness shone in his eyes. “None of you really understand what that was about. What you saw was just a little part of the story.”

  “What do you mean?” She slid down the wall and sat right next to him, their knees bumping.

  “See, Street and I had a long history over the years… it was ongoing. He fucked with me and several others that I was cool with. He was a bully when we were kids, but as I matured, he saw he couldn’t punk me anymore; in fact, so many people were tired of his shit that it’s like we banded together to fuck him up on sight. When he killed Maize, that was the final straw, Cassidy. It’s like he murdered everyone’s favorite homeboy.” Cassidy nodded… She couldn’t agree with him more. “Street was a fucked up human being, period. I mean, he was seriously crazy and it had nothing to do with being on drugs, a pill head or an alcoholic. I don’t think he was any of those things. He was just plain out of his mind.” He laughed dismally. “He was out robbing people, breaking into people’s houses… he raped a couple broads from what I understand. He was fucked in the head.”

  Cassidy swallowed and looked away.

  Danica just told me he’d raped Tiny… that son of a bitch.

  Tiny was a short little woman and a sweetheart, quite childlike. Everyone knew her, but she was a little slow, as folks would say, so she rarely got out and about due to her protective aunt who raised her.

  “So, there was something that happened that I hadn’t told you…”

  “What?” Tony had a look of complete and utter disdain in his eyes.

  “One night, when you and I weren’t talking because you were mad at me, you know, about the dealing, I saw him snoopin’ around here.”

  “Grandmama’s house?!”

  “Yeah. I had just pulled up. It was like two in the morning. I had taken care of some business. I saw him, then cut my lights… watched him try to get open one of the side windows…

  “Wait, wait, wait, wait!” She waved her arms about. “Why did you never tell me about this?”

  “Because there was nothing you or Grandmama could do. I didn’t want you worried even more than you already were. I paid a hell of a lot more attention to your house though after that, and I asked my mom and brother to look out, too, without telling them why. That’s another reason why I would ask Grandmama, even though she didn’t too much care for dogs, to let Jasper sleep out on the front porch sometimes.”

  “I remember Jasper!” She smiled. “He was so sweet.”

  “Yeah. He just passed away three years ago. My mom took him back to Jersey with her when they moved. Anyway, I told E.T. and Maize what had happened, and before you know it, Street got jumped.” He cracked his knuckles, a proud smile on his face. “He got the message loud and clear to stay the fuck away from my girl’s house. So, back to what happened that night he tried to break in… I took out my gun and chased after him, but he got away.

  “He didn’t know it was me, or at least, I don’t think so because as soon as I shot at him, he didn’t look back or anything. He just ran as fast as he could up the street and slipped behind some other houses. I don’t know what his intentions were—robbing or raping, I have no idea—but I knew in my heart that I was going to have to deal with him again sooner or later down the line. I just didn’t know it would be in that manner, in that capacity where he ended up killing my friend.”

  He hung his head for a spell. “So no, I know you probably expected me to be sorry about it, Cass, but I’m only sorry because I got caught. Seems the parole board knew that, too. Like you, I’m a terrible liar.”

  He got to his feet and mumbled something about needing to piss, leaving her there by herself, her thoughts swirling like cigarette smoke. The music played on as she sipped her wine. ‘Can’t Stop the Feeling’ by Justin Timberlake made the mood a bit less dismal as she sat surrounded by Grandmama’s worldly possessions. She picked up a few pieces of paper, smiling as she read her grandmother’s Bible study notes, and then came across an old grocery list:

  1. tomatoes

  2. white onions

  3. Apple juice

  4. Milk

  5. Butter

  6. Eggs

  7. Pancake Batter

  8. Birthday card for Evette

  9. Chicken thighs

  10. Flour

  11. French Dressing

  12. Pepsi

  13. Cassidy’s damn Doritos

  14. Fun Yuns

  15. Black pepper

  16. Garlic Powder

  She read number thirteen a hundred times it seemed, laughing herself silly.

  Grandmama musta wrote this when I was about ten or eleven. I went through a phase where it seemed all I ate was Doritos and all I drank was grape Kool-Aid.

  Just then Tony returned to the room, zipping up his pants. He grabbed another box and sat back down, and the sorting continued.

  “Danica wants to see you soon.” She smiled while still clinging to the grocery list.

  He paused. “I thought she went back to Texas. I was sad I didn’t see her at the funeral.”

  “Yeah. Her plane got delayed, but she was at the dinner. Why didn’t you stay for that?”

  He pulled out some papers from the box.

  “I dunno… not really my thing. I don’t like funerals, period, but I knew I had to go. The idea of sittin’ around eating after someone dies just kinda rubs me the wrong way.” He shrugged.

  “Well, I guess some people could feel that way.”

  They were quiet for a spell.

  “I’d like to see Danica. When is she going back to Texas?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. She said she might come back by herself though if I need more help.”

  “Okay, well, uh, tell her to stop by tomorrow morning or something… maybe we can all have breakfast together?”

  “All right, I’ll let her know.”

  “What’s that you’v
e been holding all this time?” He pointed to the grocery list.

  “Grandmama wrote this. It’s funny. She didn’t keep grocery lists after she used them but for some reason this was in the box. Probably an accident.” He peered over her shoulder and pointed at number 13, then busted out laughing. “I know, right? Too funny.”

  “Doritos were my favorite, too. What was the flavor you liked most?”

  “Taco.”

  “Me too! Cass, I’m tellin’ ya, if you melted cheese on them too you were really in business! Did you know that was the first flavor, ever? Now it’s back in the grocery store like it’s new and hip, with classic packaging. These bastards will take something old, from when we were kids, slap on a ‘NEW’ sticker and add a couple of ingredients to make it legit then market tha fuck outta it so they can get new money for old concepts. These kids have no idea they’re just chuggin’ down our leftovers!”

  “I know! I saw that, too. Chuggin’ down? Tony, you are a mess!” She cackled. “You know, in California we have a grocery store called Albertson’s. There was a huge display of them. It’s like in a kinda plain bag, but of course I bought some even though I don’t like them much anymore… probably burned myself out.”

  “Yeah. It feels nostalgic, ya know? Like the good ol’ days,” he said.

  He reached over and rested his hand on her knee. Her heart raced as he softly massaged it, looking her in the eyes.

  “You know what? Speaking of food, guess what I found?” She quickly pulled away from his touch and got to her feet.

  “What?”

  “Grandmama’s cookbook! I was with Danica and there it was!” she squealed.

  “Cookbook? But she told me that she didn’t use—”

  “I know, I know! She told everybody she didn’t have any recipes, but that isn’t true… she had them all! I wouldn’t have started to search for anything like that, except for the fact that in her will, she had written that she had a book of secrets, basically, based on food. She was talking in code, like she was Yoda or something.” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “I think Grandmama kept a lot more secrets than anyone gave her credit for, but anyway, she most definitely had a cookbook. You want to see it?”

  “Hell yeah, I wanna see it!”

  She burst out laughing. Tony used to always say, ‘Hell yeah.’ She’d forgotten about that.

  “All right, I’ll be right back!”

  She raced into the kitchen to retrieve it. When she returned, she stopped in her tracks. Tony was removing his shirt, which he cast on the floor. Standing behind him, she pressed the book to her chest and ran her fingertips against her collarbone, caressing it. Tony’s back and arm muscles were ripped to perfection. The definition and tone encapsulated the essence of masculine beauty. She was shocked to see so many tattoos on his body, most of them absolutely stunning, though that wasn’t particularly her thing. He suddenly turned and looked at her from over his shoulder, then smirked.

  “I thought I felt you there…” He got to his feet and stood before her, a towering, powerful spirit who suddenly made her feel like a kid again… safe in his presence. “You see my tattoos, huh?” She nodded. “Yeah, got my first few in prison, practice work. I designed each and every one of these myself. Look at this.” He pointed to a big pot with a heart on it. Inside the heart were the words ‘Grandmama Betty.’

  “Oh God, Tony…” She pressed the book even closer to her heart.

  “Check this out.” He pointed to a detailed, realistic flower over his heart. Inside of the petals were two hands reaching out to one another. And then she saw it… her name written in calligraphy on the stem. “I had your name put right there ’cause see, petals wilt and fall, but as long as the flower is always rooted, they’ll grow back. I saw you as a stem, my stem; you kept me grounded.”

  She blinked several times, cleared her throat, then made her way past him, pulling out a chair from the dining room table.

  “Uh, come on over here and sit down.” She forced a smile. “You have to see this.”

  He stood there for a spell, as if confused, but she refused to make eye contact. She simply couldn’t…

  He’s loved me all of this time! Danica was right… He was telling the truth! How is that possible? That tattoo doesn’t look that old; it’s not even faded. What am I going to do?! Grandmama, tell me what to do!

  Her pulse raced and she began to sweat as he pulled up the chair beside her and sat down. When he leaned in close, she could smell his cologne, aftershave, and his natural scent that she knew so well, recalling it like her very own name… And then she remembered the way he’d wrap his body against hers when they’d make love, enveloping her, making her feel him all around her. Sometimes, over the years, she’d walk somewhere, like in a mall, and get a whiff of a similar scent and it would take her back to that time in her life. Tony always smelled so good.

  “So, see?” Her hand shook ever so slightly as she turned the pages. “It’s all here, Tony. Grandmama thought she was slick!” She laughed nervously.

  “Yeah?” He wasn’t looking at the pages, but staring at her, the intensity in his eyes making her want to run away and hide somewhere. She could see him out the corner of her eye. Intimidating. Yes, that was a good word to describe her Tony… wait, HER Tony?

  Yes… her Tony…

  He’d always been intimidating, even when he was only fifteen with more fat around his face and no facial hair. He walked around like he was the Grand Dragon, a king amongst many…

  She smiled right then, remembering how he used to brag on himself—but at times she realized he’d only been half joking. He reached for a curl of her afro that she had pinned to the side with a gold flower pendant clip and lightly twisted it, his gaze on her neck.

  “I like your hair like this. It’s different. You can wear just about any hairstyle and look great, I bet.”

  “Thank you.” She turned another page of the cookbook. “Now here is that spaghetti recipe she’d make with the… Shit!” She hissed, clamped her eyes shut when his warm lips dragged up and down the side of her neck. Her pussy pulsed as he kissed her tenderly, but with passion and ownership…

  “I like whatever perfume you’re wearing.” He paused, his breath caressing her flesh. “Nice.”

  She shivered when he went right back to tasting her, nibbling her up like a delicious cookie.

  “Tony… Tony…” she said breathlessly, barely able to pull away. “Come on, now. Please don’t do this.” Why was her tone so insincere?

  “Why not?” He sat back a bit.

  “You know why.” She sighed. “I can’t… I can’t handle this right now.”

  She closed the cookbook and pressed her forehead against it, closing her eyes, losing herself. She felt his hand going up and down her back—not in a sexual way, but in a comforting way.

  “All right. Here, let me see that.”

  She sat up and pushed the cookbook toward him. For the next five minutes, she watched him scan several pages, giving it his full attention.

  “You know what? While we’re here, we should make some of these recipes.”

  “What?” She grinned. “Really?”

  “Hell yeah, why not?” He threw up his hands. “It’ll be fun. In fact, because this cleanup effort and you placing the house on the market could literally take weeks, we should both make it a part of our routine. So, let’s clear out the kitchen as much as possible tonight, keep whatever seasonings we can, pans, things like that, then go out and get whatever else we might need.”

  “Are you serious?! There’s like a hundred recipes in there and I’m certain she made them all, at least a time or two.”

  “We can just narrow it down to the ones that interest us the most. We can randomly choose, or whatever, go in order, doesn’t matter… we can decide that later. What’s nice too is that this could be a final tribute from us to her, to make her food one more time in her home.”

  How the hell did he come up with that? He knows just what to say to ma
nipulate the hell outta me… But, he has a point.

  “You know what? This may not be such a crazy idea after all. Okay! Let’s do it!”

  “Okay, so let’s go clean up.”

  A little over a half hour later, they had several bags of garbage pushed to the side in the kitchen and a big box full of all the items they wished to keep for their new joint endeavor.

  “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s pick what we’re going to make tonight.”

  She shook her head. “Tony, It’s late. You must’ve lost track of time.”

  “No, I didn’t. I know exactly what time it is.”

  “I can’t believe you are serious!” But she had to admit, it sounded fun.

  “Get your jacket on. Let’s make a grocery list and then go right now. You pick something first, any recipe you want.” He quickly grabbed his shirt and thrust it over his head. She turned to the cookbook and flipped through it, feeling a bit indecisive. Everything sounded so good.

  “I haven’t cooked in like forever, Tony… It’s been months.”

  “You won’t be alone. Don’t forget, I’ll help ya. I’m not a great cook, but I take instructions well.”

  She nodded then tapped the page, a big grin on her face.

  “I got it. Let’s make Grandmama’s shrimp and grits.”

  “Oh shit! I remember her cooking that. It was amazing!” She wrote out a quick list of items they’d need, got up from her seat, and grabbed her jacket and purse. A strange new joy filled her to the core.

  “I can drive.” She offered as they made their way out the front door. “We can go to Walmart. It’s a little farther but—”

  “No… let’s go to the same places she’d go, stay right here in the hood. She found everything she needed here.”

  Her eyes glistened with appreciation as she looked at the man, then nodded in agreement.