“Coffee? Who needs coffee when I’ve got vodka? How stupid, Z. Come on, have a drink with me.”
I refused to answer her and got up and walked over to the corner that was supposed to be the kitchen. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and roaches were crawling everywhere. I felt my skin itching but tried not to think about it. I found the Joy and decided to clean up some while I made a pot of coffee. “How much?” I asked again.
“Shit, Z. About eight hundred smackeroos.” She started laughing after she said it.
“I can lend it to you,” I said before I even realized it. This was part of my studio money, which Franklin had no idea I’d saved. I never spent that five hundred dollars my Daddy gave me, but I wasn’t about to use it for a stupid car. For some reason, after looking at Marie, knowing how hard she’s been trying to get work, it felt like this was worth it. I couldn’t let her get thrown out, I just couldn’t.
“You don’t have to do this, Z. I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay you back. And hey, I’ll be okay, really.”
I turned the fire up under the water and put extra coffee inside the filter, because I knew it would take something close to espresso to sober her up. The sink was full of bubbles, and I figured I’d let some of the food soften up and soak off for a few minutes. I went and got my checkbook out of my purse. I was writing a check, when I looked over at her. She was spread-eagled on the couch, the bathrobe was on the floor, and she was massaging her breasts like she was in here by herself. “May I ask what you’re doing?”
“What does it look like?”
I ripped the check out of the book and threw it on the cocktail table. I heard the water boiling and got up. “You need help, Marie. Have you ever thought of getting some? I mean, joining AA or something—anything?”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it.”
“So why don’t you go?”
“I just haven’t had time.”
I forgot. You can’t talk to a drunk when they’re drunk. Nothing sinks in or adds up. So I figured I’d keep my little speech to myself. “Do you have any rubber gloves?”
“Try under the sink.”
I was afraid to open the doors, but I did it anyway, and to my surprise, the gloves were actually visible. I poured water over the coffee and looked inside the cabinet for a cup. I decided it would be best to rinse it off first, which I did, then filled it and took the coffee over to her. At least she wasn’t rubbing anything now, but she looked like she was in a trance or something. She was gazing up at the ceiling. “Drink this,” I said.
“I don’t want any coffee. I thought you were making it for yourself.”
“Look, Marie, I don’t know who you’re trying to kid, but you need to think about cleaning up your act before taking it back onstage. Staying drunk won’t get you out of this, and it won’t help you get another gig, but you know that.”
“You didn’t come up here to lecture me, did you?”
“No,” I said, and walked back over to the sink. I put the gloves on and stuck my hands into the scalding water, but I didn’t feel its intensity.
“How is Mr. Franklin doing these days?”
“Fine,” I said.
“Is he fucking you good?”
“Why?” I asked, as I put a plate into the dish rack. But Marie didn’t answer me. I cleaned and rinsed another plate, and was about to put it into the rack, when I felt her standing behind me—but I didn’t move. The next thing I knew, her hands had slid underneath my armpits and moved to my breasts. She couldn’t possibly be this damn drunk. I dropped the plate in the sink and spun around, but Marie didn’t budge. My face was against her neck—since she’s so tall—and I pushed her. “Are you losing your fucking mind, or what, Marie?”
She was grinning. “Don’t act so surprised, Zora.”
“Surprised? I’ve known you for almost two years, we’re supposed to be friends, I come all the way up here to help your drunk ass out of a fix—and you put your hands on my breasts and don’t think I should act surprised?”
“I’ve been wanting to touch ’em for a long time.”
“Marie, stop it. Right now! Go sit your drunk ass down and think about what you’re saying and what you’ve just done. Come on.” I really didn’t want to touch her, but I shoved her out of my path anyway.
“I know exactly what I’m doing and saying.”
“You need help, I swear, you need some damn help.”
“I need you to put your arms around me, that’s what I really need,” she said, and started coming toward me again. That’s when I hauled off and slapped the shit out of her so hard she fell on the floor.
“You’re past drunk if you thought I’d let you get away with some shit like this.”
She struggled to get up but didn’t have the energy. Then she started crying, but I didn’t feel sorry for her in the least. I reached for my coat and purse and walked over to the door.
“Don’t go, Zora, please. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Do you pull this shit on all your girlfriends?”
“No. Just you.”
“Oh, am I supposed to feel privileged, or what?”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were like this, huh?”
“Because you never asked.”
“Right. Look, you’ve got a choice, Marie. Give that money to your landlord, or fuck it up. But if you’re out on the streets in three days, don’t call me, okay?”
“I’m sorry, Zora. Where’s the coffee? I’ll drink it.” She tried to get up again, but without any success.
“Look, I’m still your friend, and I’m going to pretend like this little scene here never even happened. But try to pull a stunt like this again, and this friend is history—you got that?”
All she could do was nod. I left her there on the floor.
* * *
The apartment was dark, and I couldn’t wait to slide under the covers and feel Franklin. I needed him to put his arms around me and hold me all night. I couldn’t believe what Marie had tried. All the way home, I kept thinking about her and how pitiful she was. Why couldn’t I have read the signs? I wasn’t about to tell Franklin what had happened, because he wouldn’t empathize at all, with me or Marie—I know him.
I peeked inside the bedroom, and sure enough, he was lying there asleep. I took my clothes off as fast as I could and stood next to the bed and looked down at him. God, was he handsome, even in his sleep. I watched him breathe and could smell his body heat from here. My crotch started throbbing, and I was excited at the mere thought of what I was going to do. But I felt dirty, so I turned and walked to the bathroom and quietly closed the door.
I took a one-minute shower and was back before I knew it. Now my breasts were throbbing. All I wanted to do was feel his heartbeat against mine, smell him, rub my ears against his muscles, touch his tongue, and feel him inside me. I didn’t care what shape it was in. When I crawled into bed and put my hand around it, it felt strong and firm. I stroked it, then climbed over his thighs—which seemed warmer than usual—and eased down on him. Shit, Marie doesn’t know what she’s missing.
My hips began to move without any help from me, and that’s when I felt Franklin’s hands begin to slide up and down my back.
“You came home?”
“I came home,” I said.
He leaned forward and kissed me. When I closed my eyes, I could still see him. The hair on his chest brushed my nipples, and he pressed me so close that our heartbeats caught up with each other. I felt soft and electric, weak and strong. Then those wonderful hands of his cupped my hips. I was floating on him now, and when he looked at me as if he was asking me a question, the answer came all at once.
* * *
“Mornin’,” I said, trying to wipe the grin off my face.
“So what was you on last night?”
I started laughing. “You.”
“You ain’t woke me up like that in a long time. I love it when you want it. You act hungry, an
d you know how to give it up when you hungry.”
“Well, I’m glad you were here to wake up.”
“Sometimes I wish I was a woman, you know that? You make me jealous as hell when you come three and four times in a row and shit.”
“If I didn’t have the right man, it wouldn’t be possible. What are you doing up so early?”
“Starting a new job today.”
“Really,” was all I could say.
“Yeah. You seen my gray thermal undershirt?”
“Look in the third drawer, under the red one. You have time for coffee?”
“Yeah, but make it quick.”
“Make it quick, make it quick….”
I got up, and instead of going directly to the kitchen, I walked over and plastered a sloppy kiss on his lips—bad breath and all. “Go brush,” he said, and started laughing. “So what’s the deal with Marie?”
“She’ll be okay, I guess. She’s an alcoholic, you know.”
“I think you told me that. So what happened? I thought you was staying the night. Did you miss your Daddy that much?”
“Yeah, I missed you. But to be honest, her place was a mess, she was sloppy drunk, and all she needed was some money.”
“You lent her some money?”
“Yeah, I had to, or she would’ve been out on the street in three days. She got one of those seventy-two-hour eviction notices.”
“Just how much did you lend her?”
“Why?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Eight hundred.”
“Eight hundred fuckin’ dollars!”
“You don’t have to scream, Franklin.”
“You mean to tell me you lent a drunk almost a grand?”
“So what? She’s my friend, and she needed my help.”
“Yeah, but you couldn’t help me when I needed it for a car.”
“Franklin, the girl was getting evicted. Haven’t you ever been in this kind of position?”
“Yeah. As a matter of fact, I’m in this position right now. Jimmy’s in jail and needs to borrow two fifty and I was gon’ ask if I could borrow it from you—but I guess that’s dead.”
“What’s he in jail for?”
“What difference do it make? Why didn’t Marie pay her rent?”
“I can still lend it to you, Franklin.”
“Where you getting all this money? This ain’t your studio money, I hope.”
“Sort of.”
“Look, I can pay your money back, but what about Marie?”
“It’s a chance I’m taking.”
“Yeah, right. When Reginald is ready, and you ain’t got the cash, what you gon’ do then?”
“I’ll have it, don’t worry.”
“I just wanna make sure you get this demo tape, baby. You been working on this thing for a long time, and I don’t wanna see everything go down the drain over some bullshit.”
“It won’t, but sometimes things take longer than you think. You should know that better than anybody, Franklin. And besides, that’s what’s wrong with the world now. We need to exercise more faith in folks, you know?”
“Well, with this new job, together our shit could really kick off. I was thinking, we should try to get outta here by spring—get a bigger place, you know?”
“Why don’t we wait and see how long this one lasts?”
“I hear where you coming from, baby. And you right. I ain’t even gon’ tell you none of the details. I’ma let the paycheck and my union book tell the whole story.”
“Franklin, do me a favor. Understand that it’s not you I don’t have the faith in. It’s them. I’ve seen you get your hopes up so many times, and then the big letdown.”
“I hear you. Oh, by the way, speaking of letdowns, would you mind if my sister spent a few days with us? She’s sorta been under the weather.”
“No, I don’t mind. What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know. She’s just been real depressed and shit, and I figured we could cheer her up. Will you help me, baby?”
“I’ll try.”
“Thanks,” he said, and reached out to hug me. “I’m so glad you came home last night, ’cause I was beginning to wonder who you cared about more—me or your girlfriends.”
“Franklin?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“Tell me again.”
“I love you!”
“Tell me that you’ll never leave me.”
“I’ll never leave you.”
“Even if our shit looks like it’s going down the drain?”
“Even if our shit looks like it’s going down the drain.”
He threw me on the bed and squeezed me. “I love you too,” he whispered. “Yes, I do, I do, I do.”
16
Kendricks wasn’t bullshitting. I got put on as a concrete worker, which means I’ma spend all damn day building forms, then holding ’em in place, then stripping concrete when it’s finished. But it’s okay. Hell, I’ma be making $13.96 an hour, and I’ll be eligible to join Local 168 after working seven days, if the Italians don’t have no objections. My foreman’s name is Bill. After he saw how good I was—at least how hard I worked—right before quitting, he pulled me aside, away from the other brothers, and said, “Look, Frankie. You mind if I call you Frankie?”
“Naw. Everybody calls me Frankie.”
“Well, if what you showed me today is any indication of how good a worker you are, you can look forward to staying on.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning we’ve got five or six more jobs lined up after this one here, and if you don’t fuck up, have your ass in here on time, do what’s expected of you, and don’t slack off none, you can go places. Be part of the crew—understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
“And this is between me and you, not the world—got that?”
“I got it.”
All he meant was I was probably the only black he was even thinking about keeping. These motherfuckers really know how to put you on the spot. But fuck it. I wanna know what it feels like to bring home a paycheck for a few months without no breaks.
As I walked over to the shanty to get out of these dirty clothes, I started wondering if there was any other way to determine your worth as a man besides how much money you make.
* * *
One thing I love about Zora is that she keeps her word. The two fifty was laying on the counter, just like she said it would be. That meant she had to get her clothes on, run to the cash machine, then back home, and then back to the subway to get to work. To tell the truth, I don’t know if I’d go through these kinds of changes for any of her friends.
I got the creeps again, being in that jailhouse. No shit. It brought back memories like a motherfucker. I paid Jimmy’s bail and was sitting there waiting for him. Paperwork is a bitch, but it don’t take ’em but a minute to lock your ass up.
I was reading my horoscope in the Daily News, when Jimmy thumped me on the head.
“Thanks, brother. I owe you.”
“What you drinking? I wanna know the truth about what went down, man.” I folded my newspaper under my arm, and we left. We stopped in the first bar we came to on Atlantic Avenue.
“Remember Sheila, man?” Jimmy asked.
“I heard you mention her, but I wouldn’t recognize her if I saw her.”
“Anyway, she’s Puerto Rican. I shoulda never wasted my time and money being around her, I swear. Hindsight is a bitch, ain’t it, man?”
“Get to the fuckin’ point, Jimmy.”
“Wait a minute. Why ain’t you drinking?”
“’Cause I just started a new job today, and I don’t need my head to be all fucked up, that’s why.”
“Well, anyway, we got a little set going at Sheila’s pad, and there’s this loud-ass knock on the door, man. Everybody run and shit, start flushing shit down the toilet and what have you, but turns out it ain’t the man, it’s so
me dude Sheila owe all this money to, and as usual, she ain’t got it. He told Sheila she was dead, and this other dude, Jesús, was sitting in the kitchen, another PR, and he was so fucked up, all he heard was the word ‘kill,’ and he came out through the kitchen like Clint Eastwood and shit and shot the motherfucker.”
“So I don’t get it. Where do you come in?”
“It was my gun, motherfucker.”
“What was he doing with your gun?”
“What difference do it make? The bottom line is, the cops show up out of no-fuckin’-where man—I mean, the motherfucker wasn’t even cold yet—and Jesús split out the kitchen window and leaves the gun and naturally they trace the shit to me. And here I stand.”
“When’s your court date?”
“Sometime the end of next month. You know any good lawyers, man?”
“Me? Be serious. But Zora might. As a matter of fact, one of her girlfriends is a lawyer. I’ll ask her tonight. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, motherfucker?”
“I swear, Frankie, I ain’t shot no-goddamn-body. I swear. I may do some illegal shit, but I ain’t one for killing motherfuckers. I keep my piece to stop these son-of-a-bitches from misusing me, that’s all. It’s more like insurance.”
“So where you going from here?”
“I don’t know, man, I don’t know.”
“I suppose you broke?”
“Do a Chinese have slanted eyes?”
I took a twenty outta my pocket and gave it to him.
“Thanks, Frankie. I think you about the longest friend I ever had, and considering what I’m into and you all straight and shit, I don’t get it, man.”
“That’s what’s wrong with the world now, dude. We need to have more faith in people, ’specially our friends.”
“Well, I appreciate it. And I ain’t gon’ disappoint you, man. I’ma pay you back.”
“Look, you ain’t gon’ be in the streets and shit tonight, are you, man?”
“Naw, naw, naw. I got lots of places I can go. I just ain’t thought about it yet.”
“Well, you got my number, and call me in a few days, and I’ll find out what Zora can tell me, okay?”
Disappearing Acts Page 27