Pretty Boy

by Carlos King

  DAY 15

  Jovon is in his office, sitting at his desk with his face buried in his arms. It’s only when Julie walks into his office and calls his name that Jovon lifts his head. In just fifteen days, Jovon has gained a substantial amount of weight, lost an ample coverage of hair, and has spawned a number of blemishes and age lines.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Smooth, but you are aware that you’re scheduled to appear in court in an hour, right?” she said in a soft tone of voice. Although she’s grown accustomed to Jovon’s different look, it still boggles her mind.

  Jovon depressingly says, “Reschedule it for me please.”

  Julie takes a few steps closer, a regretful frown apparent. “I’m sorry, I can’t. The presiding judge is Judge Winters and he’s heard about how you’ve been pushing everything back lately. He won’t allow it.”

  Jovon laughs, sliding his chair away from the desk. “Well, I guess I’m going to court today.” Jovon pitifully gets up, grabs his briefcase and exits his office.

  An hour later, Jovon finds himself sitting within the confines of Judge Winters’ courtroom. Winters, a sixty-five-year-old man who’s well known for his no-none sense attitude and strict punishments. As the prosecution wraps up her case, Jovon folds a sheet of paper into an airplane. Sitting to the left of Jovon is his client, a burly bald white male who’s covered in tattoos and has a menacing glare exudes guilt.

  “And it is on these grounds that you should convict Henry Herman of assault and battery. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” the prosecution concluded.

  As the prosecutor sits down, Jovon continues to play with his paper airplane.

  Judge Winters clears his throat. “Counselor.” Jovon continues to play with his airplane, failing to acknowledge the judge. Judge Winters repeats himself, only with more force this time. “Counselor!”

  “Huh? What?” Jovon looks around in confusion.

  “Your closing remarks,” said the pasty old judge.

  “Oh! Yeah,” Jovon retorted. “I forgot I was my turn.” Jovon gets up and makes a futile attempt to improve his sloppy appearance. His erratic behavior has become apparent to everyone in the courtroom, including Judge Winters. “Alright,” Jovon said, addressing the jury. “How y’all doing today? Look, my client is no angel as you all can clearly see”—Jovon turns back to client and then back to the jury—“But come on, how many of us haven’t had those days where we didn’t wanna strangle somebody?”

  The jury members exchange odd glances with one another as Jovon virtually admits his client is guilty of assault.

  Jovon continues with his argument. Let’s just say some short little witch, who’s virtually begging for you to wrap your hands around her fat little neck, keeps taunting you on a daily basis. You try resisting, but she keeps taken things you hold dearest to you away. So you imaging getting a ball ping hammer and”—

  “Mr. Smooth!” Judge Winters cut him off before his tirade could go any further. “Approach the bench please!” Jovon walks over to the bench. Judge Winters angrily whispers, “I know it’s not standard procedure to interrupt closing arguments, but what you’re saying is completely inappropriate.”

  “This is why I tried to get you to push this case back,” Jovon explained, just as frustrated as Judge Winters appears to be. “I haven’t been feeling well lately.”

  Surly Judge Winters gives Jovon a fed up glare. “Mr. Smooth, I’ve been keeping track on you and your antics for quite some time now. This would’ve been the fourth case you would’ve rescheduled in two weeks. Now if you’re not up to performing the tasks your entails, maybe you should take a vacation or consider a change of occupation.”

  “Thanks for the advice, Judge,” said Jovon, turning his back towards Judge Winters as he moved toward the jury box. But before he could put a safe enough distance between he and the bench, Jovon utters under his breath, “Asshole.”

  “Excuse me,” Judge Winters scowled. “What did you say, young man?”

  Jovon turns back to the judge with an innocent gape. “Nothing.”

  Judge Winters isn’t buying Jovon’s guiltless façade. With his beady eyes narrowed, Judge Winters tells Jovon, “I don’t know what your problem is, but you better fix it quick before you find yourself in contempt.”

  Jovon unexpectedly blows a fuse. “You want to know what’s wrong with me?” he snapped. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. For one, I’m stuck defending an asshole in the courtroom of an even bigger asshole! Two, I look like the lead character in a Steven King movie! And three”—Jovon rotates his sights between the spectators of the courtroom and the jury members—“don’t think I didn’t hear all you assholes making fun of me in here! I might look like shit now, but in my good days, none of you fuckers could hold my jock! So fuck all of y’all!”

  Judge Winters erupts, banging his gavel hysterically. “Mr. Smooth, you are now in contempt!” Winters turns to the bailiff. “Bailiff, get him out of here!”

  In all, it takes three bailiffs to drag an irate Jovon out of the courtroom.

  Still filled with fight as the bailiffs pull him out of the courtroom, kicking and screaming, Jovon continues to shout to the top of his lungs. “THIS IS BULLSHIT!! I TOLD YOU I DIDN’T WANT TO TAKE THIS CASE TODAY!!”

  Minutes after being dragged out of court, Jovon has finally calmed down as he finds himself sitting alone in a holding cell. A little while later, one of the bailiffs brings another person into Jovon’s cell for containment. Too bad for Jovon, it just so happens to be the person he was defending. Once the bailiff secures the prisoner behind bars, he uncuffs the skinhead and walks away.

  The tall, muscular white male maliciously stares at Jovon, giving him a sadistic grin. Stepping towards Jovon, the skinhead fiendishly asks, “So I’m an asshole, huh?”

  Clearly scared, all Jovon can say is, “Fucking figures.”

  Chapter 14

  Jovon is still in custody, but is now being given the opportunity to make his one phone call. As he stands there holding the phone, black eye and all, he can’t help feel a little frustrated with his current situation. After several rings go unanswered, Mike finally picks up.

  “Yo’ Mike,” said Jovon, relieved someone finally picked up. “I need a favor, man. I need you to come down to the courthouse and bail me out, alright?”

  “I wish I could, man, but I can’t right now.”

  “What you mean you can’t? Why the hell not?”

  “Because I’m on the toilet,” Mike quickly came back. “Since you got to be all up in my damn business.”

  Irritated, Jovon pulls the phone away from his ear briefly before continuing. “Then get yo’ ass up, wipe off and get down here and bail me out!” his tone growing urgent. “Do you know how many of these fools in here staring at me like I’m a god damn video vixen?”

  “Not as many as it would’ve been two weeks ago,” Mike inserted as a joke to himself.

  “Now ain’t the time for that shit, Mike,” said Jovon, unamused.

  “Why don’t you call Vinny or Lew, J? You know I’d normally have your back in a heartbeat, but right now me and this porcelain taking care of some serious business, man.”

  “Because they’re at work, Mike,” Jovon informed. “You’re the only one I could call. So are you coming or not?”

  Mike struggles to answer. It’s clear he wants to help his friend, but his current circumstances won’t allow it. “I want to man, but I got this piece of shit that’s halfway in and halfway out right now. The fucker must be stuck or something. If I get up and start wiping now I’ma fuck around and go through a whole roll of toilet paper. You know moms be tripping about that shit…And with this being the last roll she definitely gone trip the fuck out.”

  “Way too much fucking information,” Jovon said with a look of disgust. “Look, just call one of them fools and tell them to come pick me up. This was the only phone call they’re going to give me.”

  “Alright, J” Mike grunted, renewing
Jovon’s disgusted expression. “I’m on it.”

  Jovon sets the phone back on the hook.

  After a few hours’ wait, a guard walks up to Jovon’s cell. “Jovon Smooth,” the guard began, “you’re outta here.”

  Jovon gets up off the bench he was lying on and follows the guard towards the front. When they finally enter the main office, Jovon learns that it wasn’t Vinny or Mike who paid his bail, but Shanti. The two exchange brief smiles as they near each other. Amazingly, she’s also grown accustom to his altered looks, but she quickly picks up on his fresh black eye.

  “Are you okay?” she worriedly asked.

  “Does anything about me look okay to you?” Jovon grieved.

  “Good point.”

  “Yeah.” Jovon turns to a guard working behind a desk and collects his belongings. “So Mike called you, huh?” he asked Shanti as he signed out.

  “Yeah,” she answered, fiddling with the strap of her purse as it hung from her shoulder. “But I’m curious to why is it that you didn’t call me first.”

  Jovon turns to her. “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

  “You would’ve bothered me, Jovon. You know me better than that. I would do anything for you if need be.”

  Jovon and Shanti both smile at one another, but this endearing moment is suddenly disturbed when Jovon’s cell phone rings. He removes his phone from the large yellow envelope the guard gave him and answers. “Hello…” Jovon’s eyes bulge. “What!!?”

  Jovon’s Chrysler 300 comes to a screeching stop a few houses down from his own. Yellow caution tape and numerous police cars prevent him from getting any closer in his vehicle. But the darkness of the night undoubtedly brings forth the horrifying truth that Jovon feared the entire drive. His beautiful home is completely engulfed in flames.

  Jovon leaps out of his car and walks up to the yellow police tape the police have set up around the perimeter. “What the hell happened?” Jovon asked a cop who was standing guard behind the tape.

  The guard places a hand out towards Jovon’s chest. “Stand back, Sir.”

  “I live here!” Jovon screamed. “What the hell happened to my house?!”

  “Oh,” the cop softened. “Sorry about your home, Sir. It appears there was a breaking and a few guys tried to make off with your things. But don’t worry, though, we have them both in custody. Dumbasses had most of your house packed up in their truck, but it seems that one of them admired your high tech stove and had to have it. Fucking idiot ripped it right outta the wall. Meanwhile, another one of the perpetrators just so happened to be smoking at the time…Needless to say, the place turned into an inferno shortly after.”

  Jovon’s emotionless eyes are fixated on his blazing home as the firefighters try their best to extinguish the flames. The cop, who feels genuinely bad for Jovon, begins to look at him with a strange expression when Jovon begins to laugh maniacally as he slowly makes his way back to his idling Chrysler.

  DAY 18

  Jovon is sitting in the doctor’s office, awaiting the results of his test. Dr. Lee enters with Jovon’s health chart in hand.

  “So what’s the diagnosis, Doc?” Jovon eagerly asked.

  “Okay,” Dr. Lee began. “I’m not quite sure how I should say this.”

  “Just say it,” Jovon said anxiously.

  “Alright.” Dr. Lee takes a single breath and says, “Jovon, you’re falling apart. Your body is literally deteriorating at an unprecedented rate.”

  Jovon shrugs and sarcastically asks, “Now was that so hard?”

  Dr. Lee places Jovon’s chart under his arm and takes a seat. “You’re only twenty-nine, yet you have the physical features and the metabolism of a seventy-one-year-old man, which would explain why you’re gaining all of this excess weight so suddenly.”

  “Is that all?” Jovon asked, hopping off the examination table.

  “Have you been under extreme stress lately?” Dr. Lee asked, making Jovon smile.

  “You mean aside from losing my house, getting thrown in jail, and turning into Mr. Burns from the Simpsons…No, none at all.”

  Dr. Lee lowers his head for a split-second before resetting his eyes’ on Jovon’s. “I only asked because the last time you came in you were an even six feet tall and weighed 180 pounds. Now you’re 231 pounds and only five-foot-eight. And this is all in two weeks. You’re shrinking, which is only known to happen during bone loss, but that mainly happens in senior citizens…Mainly woman.”

  “Figures,” Jovon replied flatly. “So now what?”

  “I’d like to put you on bed rest for the next couple of weeks. Just to make sure you get the proper amount of rest.”

  Jovon puts his jacket on. “Easy for you to say, Doc. Your bed isn’t the couch of your best friend’s house.”

  “No,” Dr. Lee shook his head, “no it isn’t.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Jovon said with a derisive tone. “You’ve been so helpful.”

  Jovon walks out of the Doctor’s office and heads back towards the parking lot. As Jovon nears his car he notices it’s surrounded by several police officers and yellow “Do Not Cross” tape. When Jovon approaches his car to investigate, he’s stopped by the same officer who informed him about his burning home the day before.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” said the cop, stopping Jovon from getting any closer to the blocked off scene, “you can’t come any closer, pal.”

  Jovon sighs, “Come on, man, that’s my car. What happened now?”

  The cop’s eyes lit up. “Hey it’s you—you’re the guy from last night. Wow!” he said with a disbelieving excitement. “I guess this just isn’t your week, huh, buddy?”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. Now what happened to my car?”

  “Damnedest thing really,” said the cop, scratching he balding head. “Some old guy was walking through the parking lot and the poor son-of-a-bitch had a heart attack. According to witnesses, he stumbled for a few feet and then collapsed right on the hood of your car. He probably would’ve fallen to the ground, but his cane propped him up.”

  Jovon angles his head in order to look pass the cop to see his car. Jovon watches as another officer pulls a tarp over his car. But before the car is completely covered, Jovon notices the chalked outline of where the old man’s body was. The outline started at the front bumper and stretched hallway up the hood. Jovon simultaneously shakes and lowers his head in despair.

  Talking to himself, Jovon murmurs, “Damn shame.”

  Just as Jovon starts to walk off, he can’t but overhear the cop talking he was just speaking to tell another cop about his streak of bad luck.

  “Hey, John!” said the cop. “You’ll never guess whose car this is! You remember that poor bastard whose house burned down last night?! Talk about being on God’s shit-list.”

  Chapter 15

  With his car being impounded by the police department, pending the results of the Medical Examiner’s investigation, Jovon decides to make the four mile journey to Vinny’s house, where’s his been residing ever since his house was burned to the ground.

  As Jovon enters Vinny’s home, he immediately spots Vinny and Natasha on the couch, necking. The two pull away from one another when they hear the front door close, probably because Jovon made it a point to slam it close.

  “Oh, hey, buddy,” Vinny said, wiping any possible lipstick from his mouth. “How you doing, J? I thought you would’ve been back hours ago. Did the Doctor have any good news for you?”

  “Actually he did,” Jovon said with a phony smile. “He told me I have the bones of an eighty year old woman.”

  “Oh,” he answered inattentively, distracted by Natasha’s cleavage, “that’s great, buddy.”

  Natasha turns to Jovon. “Hello. How are you doing, Sir? I’m Natasha. I’m dating your son Vincent.”

  “Ouch,” Vinny said under his breath.

  Jovon gives Natasha a stern stare. “My son?”

  Vinny places a hand on Natasha’s knee. “Honey, that’s not my father. That’s my gu
y, Jovon. The one I was telling you about. You know…J.”

  She turns back to Jovon, her jaw dropped. “Oh! I’m sorry about that. Your name is Jovon Smooth, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Jovon nodded, moving towards the backrooms. As he does so, he muffles some choice words for Natasha under his voice. “High price hooker.”

  Jovon walks into an unfurnished room and sprawls out on the carpet, aimlessly staring up at the ceiling. “Okay, twelve days left before I become a permanent leper,” he said to himself. “Maybe I should start trying to find my significant other before it’s too late. Yeah right,” he scoffed at the thought. “Who the hell could love me now? I’m hideous. Shit, I can’t even stand the sight of myself, so how the hell could anyone else?”