by Tiana Laveen
Yet, after many failed attempts at conformity, he’d thrown in the towel. He never did quite fit in for he was too large for the place people attempted to shove him inside. It became painful trying to squeeze his over-sized essence into a two-dimensional hole chock full of nothingness. And besides, nothingness was boring, stale, and dismal. He always dreamed big, wanted more. The stifling feeling was an affliction, and he was cursed.
Regardless, he refused to let any motherfucka chase him out of Alabama. Surely, he could find his niche. There was still time. Besides, leaving wasn’t an option. His wife’s family was there, his daughter’s roots; it was home, albeit now a sour home – and home was where the bullets lived. He’d been threatened, attempts made to get him to confess, but he refused. Rather, he opted to lie with a straight face. As he was considered to be on the up and up and a square allowed the inquisitions to die down for the time being. He was lucky he’d been asked at all…
The code of the street was to shoot a fucker dead and ask questions later. Corpses don’t talk, but no one cared. Life was as important to many of his peers as a falling leaf from a tree. Trees stood tall during storms, and he followed suit. Besides, there was no concrete proof that he’d stolen Terence’s phone at that party and when the accusation made its blood sniffing round for the one hundredth time he denied the shit once again, but many doubted him all the same. Ironically, Go-Go wasn’t one of them – he’d vouched for his innocence, but that did little good. You didn’t need proof in the hood; only an inkling and a shard of a suspicion was as solid as word being bond.
He had a mark on his back now, the kind that didn’t scrub off with prison soap or disappear with wishful thinking. This went much further than an anonymous call to the police precinct regarding footage to prove Aaron was provoked and defending his own life. Due to his untimely actions, Aaron’s case rang the alarm, and before anyone could blink an eye, the man was out on the street again after the previously hidden video went viral.
Worse yet, since Clarence passed away, there was a civil court case from the family of Mr. Clarence Gable that had been filed, a wrongful death that was sure to get them a large sum of money. Aaron had some shit. Everyone knew it, and most wanted a piece of the pie. He owned a profitable business that specialized in private armed services for quite a few local companies, people needing an extra bit of protection for an event and wealthy clients who required 24-7 observation and care. He was living that ‘white man on cloud 9 racist dream’. Yet, now, that civil case was as good as the Titanic – sunk, minus the band still playing until the last drop of ocean had taken them down whole.
He peered at his watch, ticked off that his lunch break had almost come to a finish. Tapping the final ashes of his sad little cigarette butt into the receptacle, he worked out in his mind that he had to memorize the new order numbers for the catalog. There was an umbrella series that was all the rage. The cheap, plastic things came in various colors of the rainbow. He hated rainbows…
Just then, a tall man shrouded in his own shadow slammed the door of a shiny, jet black Chevrolet Silverado pick-up truck. The enormous vehicle picked up his reflection as he stormed towards him like a lightning bolt. His big, long arms swung back and forth, fist balled tight as if he were coming in the place to go postal. The man’s face was partially hidden under a Montgomery Biscuits baseball cap that covered his eyes and only allowed a glimpse of his shaded face.
“Who the fuck is this comin’ up here like the huntin’ knife he ordered from us was made of rubber? Another unsatisfied customer…”
He took another puff of his cigarette before the thing tapped out. With a grimace, he crossed his ankles and tried to stay calm. This was his quiet spot, his little oasis and reprieve. It didn’t matter that he was standing close to the front door; everybody used the back door for the majority of tasks. No one came out there unless it was quittin’ time, and that was just how he liked it.
“Marcus,” the man said gruffly as he slowed and came to an abrupt stop before tipping the brim of his hat back.
“Ohhhh shit!” He chuckled, falling into a barrage of gut busting laughter. The two slapped hands, and then, he caught himself, drew serious. “Damn man, you really shouldn’t be here. What you come around here for?”
Marcus let annoyance seep in his tone. The consequences of this could be heavier than Aunt May’s cornbread, but still, he couldn’t help but smile. There was something rather refreshing about seeing Aaron, regardless of the hot water he was in due to the affiliation.
“To see you, actually.” The guy put his hands on his waist and offered a tilted smile, as if they went way back, were the best of friends, and had happened upon one another by mere chance. “I found out where you worked. Don’t worry.” He put his hand up. “I didn’t ask around. I found out on my own and I wasn’t going to make a scene or draw attention. I know you bein’ seen with me probably ain’t the best idea.”
“Really? You and a team of top-notch scientists came up with that all on your own, didn’t you?! Maaan, you tryna get me killed! How tha hell you gone come up to my job, Aaron?!” He hated himself for turning coat so quickly, but the realization of the matter grew limbs and raced up and down his body, leaving him frightened to the core.
“I tried calling you but didn’t want to leave a voice mail, you know, just in case someone else was able to listen to them. You never picked up!”
“Rule number one: I don’t answer numbers I don’t recognize.”
Aaron rolled his orange-fire eyes and continued with his spiel.
“So can you get in my truck and give me like five minutes of your time?” The bastard sounded like a vacuum cleaner salesman.
Marcus looked down at his watch, feeling almost as if a damn grenade had been thrown at his feet. Aaron was no fool; the fucker knew the kind of trouble he could get into being seen with him. After all, the ‘Uncle Ruckus’ title he’d been given was beginning to stick, and being a black man proven to have aided a white supremacist in the Deep South in getting out of prison was not exactly a goal one wished to reach.
“Yeah, I guess I can… gotta make it quick. My break is almost over.” Aaron nodded in understanding, then cast his cigarette in the can and marched over with him. When Marcus opened the truck door, the new car scent accosted him and coated him in a thick layer of jealousy. “Man, look at this shit!” He slid into the passenger seat, taking note of the tan leather, a slight sheen on it as if it had been oiled.
“You like it?” Aaron asked slyly and leaned back in his seat.
“Hell yeah, I like it.” Marcus grinned a bit wider as he kept looking around the thing.
“Yeah, well, I just got it… a little gift to myself. Look, you don’t have to admit anything, but I know it was you that released that tape. I’ve been hearing the rumors, and it keeps coming back to you.” He pointed at him. “That’s why I know us bein’ seen together isn’t too great for a number of reasons, but I had to tell you in person: Thank you… thank you so much, Marcus.”
He looked at him, not sure he should even admit the shit or not. He hadn’t confessed to anyone, not even his wife, fearful she could somehow get wound up in the shit. The less anyone knew, the better.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I didn’t release no tape, man.”
Aaron turned away, a slight smirk on his face as the sun acted like a gangbuster and unexpectedly burst through the dismal sky, chasing the darkness and clouds away.
“Okay, Marcus… well, thank you nevertheless.” He slid a business card out of his pocket and handed it to him. “Call me if you need something.”
Marcus looked at the black, matte card with the business name, Brother’s Keeper Security written on it in bright red font.
“Mmm hmmm,” he took the card, looked both ways to see if all was still clear, and tucked it away in his pocket. “How you been?” he mumbled.
“Good, very good.”
“You and your girlfriend fine? I know that uh, well.” He
nervously scratched his forehead as he peered down at the floor mat. “I remember you said she was the reason you talked to me in the first place.” He slowly glanced back at the man.
“Yeah. She’s good, she’s real good. Look, Marcus.” He tapped the steering wheel and looked straight ahead, his brows drawn and his expression concerned like he’d gotten lost, taken a wrong turn. “I need to know why you did what you did, alright?”
Marcus looked down at his watch and swallowed the accumulating spit in his mouth as his nerves worked themselves up to the next level.
I can sit here and keep lyin’… but who would he tell? He is the one that benefited from this so that would make no sense…
“’Cause there’s right and there’s wrong and when you know the difference, your actions are supposed to show it.”
Aaron cracked a grin. “My girlfriend just said something similar to me.”
“Well, she’s right and besides, I’m a man not a boy…can’t let repercussions stop me from doin’ what I know in my heart to be the answer. Sometimes doin’ the right thing can cost you your life, but if we don’t live for the truth, then what’s the use of breathin’?”
Aaron sat quiet for a moment or two, as if stewing in his own thoughts, marinating on the information. “You’re something else, you know that?” He chuckled.
“Yeah,” Marcus looked down at his lap and picked at a barely visible lint ball that clung to the dark blue denim along his knee. “And you are, too, but it still didn’t stop me from callin’ the police.”
They looked at each other for a twinkling of time and both erupted in stilted chuckles. Soon after, silence reigned, a stretch of quiet filled with the words neither of them wished to utter.
“You’re a hell of a man, Marcus Cunningham. I appreciate what you did. It took guts. I sure as hell didn’t deserve it. Ain’t no arguin’ that fact. Promise me something.”
“What else could you possibly want? I think the request line for you in regards to me has been disconnected.”
They both burst out laughing again until Aaron drew serious once more.
“No, seriously… I need you to do this.”
“What?”
“You’ll call the number on that card… let me know how you’re doin’, if you need some help, alright?”
“I could use another pack of cigarettes.” Marcus grinned. Aaron immediately reached past him, opened his glove compartment, and handed him an unopened box of Winston Superslims Blue.
“I ain’t never tried these befo’e.” He gave the pack the once over. “Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it.” Aaron leaned forward and turned the key in the ignition. The engine grunted then settled down, turning butter smooth and easy.
Marcus wrapped his fingers around the gleaming handle where he caught his as well as Aaron’s reflection and pushed the door forward to exit. But, before he could get out and wave goodbye, Aaron tugged at his shirtsleeve and had him turn to face him.
“Marcus, you turnin’ in that video… I… I just can’t thank you enough. It was a real godsend ’cause… well, things would’ve ended up not in my favor had that not happened. But I want you to know something else before you go.”
“What?”
“The best gift you ever gave me was when you talked to me in the yard.” Aaron’s eyes were filled with emotions Marcus would never truly understand. “You helped change my life; you were a catalyst for something bigger than you could ever fathom and you will never know how much I appreciate you for not only taking a chance on me, allowing me a moment of your time, but for helping me, twice.” With a shaky hand, he then slid out a white envelope from his back pocket and waved it frantically in his direction.
“Here, take it.”
The thing appeared padded, as if something thick and bulky were wadded up inside. Marcus stood there and simply looked at it. He got ready to refuse it, fix his mouth to say the words, but Aaron shook his head, stopping him in his tracks with not so much as a word.
Marcus reached out and took it from the man’s grasp. Aaron sported a faint scowl and perspiration beaded around his hairline. He brushed it away, but didn’t blink as they continued their stare contest. Marcus knew better than to hand that thing back from the way the man glared at him, and he knew without looking inside what it was; and he also knew that Aaron, in some way, understood how much he needed what he offered more than ever. He slid the unopened box of cigarettes into one pocket, and the envelope in the other.
“Alright. Well, I’m glad you considered what I was sayin’ to you,” he choked out. “With so much hate in the world, ain’t no use in makin’ any more. We got an overabundance of the shit, a surplus, but have a big deficit of love in the world. It’s time we start sayin’ ‘enough is enough.’ To start makin’ something out of nothing and doin’ right by one another.”
“I like how you talk. I don’t know what I did to suddenly deserve all of this, but I’m thankful for it. I been living in the dark, Marcus, seeing things only in black and white.”
“Ain’t no black ’nd white, man. It’s just humanity…and humanity is all we got.” He swiftly closed the door and walked away without looking back. He heard the truck drive off. As he reached the front door of his job, he caught his reflection in the glass entrance. He paused, looked himself in the eye…
It wasn’t no mirage after all. His reflection was just right. His skin was something special; matter of fact it looked good on him. For once, it felt virtuous to be in the skin he was in. No shame, no remorse, no hiding his true self behind glass walls just to please others…. no, none of that. He was just wearing the garb of the man he was trying to be. He’d become an adult and so far, that skin God gave him was just what the doctor ordered. A custom, perfect, fit…
“SO YOU JUST gone hog all the Kool-Aid?” Trudy questioned as she shoved her hip into Mia’s. While they lounged on the porch, the notes of Shura’s ‘Touch’ drifted in the wind. Mia gave her the side eye as she leisurely poured another glass of the bright pink concoction over perfectly cubed ice. A colorful white and green striped straw danced amongst floating lemon and lime wedges.
Mia set the pitcher back down on the porch. “It’s not Kool-Aid. It’s my cherry-lime surprise,” she corrected.
Trudy rolled her eyes, reached around her, and snatched the thing up to drink directly from it.
“Oh my God! How you gonna just drink straight from the pitcher?!”
“Ahhhh! Refreshing!” She giggled as she placed it back down and wiped her lips with a slow slide of the back of her hand. “Serves you right for not answerin’ my calls and not giving me a glass. This ain’t the way you supposed to treat company.”
“You lucky I didn’t call the police and have you escorted off my property. You ain’t company and you sure didn’t act like family!” Mia sighed, settled back down, and crossed her ankles as she wiggled her toes in the delightful breeze.
“Well you look mighty fancy. Where you goin’?” Trudy questioned.
“Out.”
“Hmmm, you got a date, huh?” Her brow rose. “It’s wit’ that convict, ain’t it? I saw the news… that boy on the loose.”
“Look now, don’t come ’round here startin’ no shit. You’ve done enough. And he ain’t on the loose. He was cleared of the charges. I’m sure your nosy behind saw the tape, too.” Mia took another sip from her glass, trying to not curse the damn woman out.
“I came over here to talk you about that.”
“Save your breath. I don’t have anything to say to you, Trudy. I thought we were better than that and the way you did me at my parents’ home was all kinds of wrong, and you know it!”
“Look, Mia, you can be mad at me if you want to.” She stared her in the face. “But I love you, and I was lookin’ out for you. You know damn well that if the shoe was on the other foot, you would have been concerned about me, too!”
“Concerned? Yes! Call a family emergency and treat it like a damn drug intervention, n
o!”
“Look now, ya hard headed! You always been,” Trudy complained. “I didn’t know what else to do!”
“You coulda just spoke to me, or been quiet. That’s what would have truly been refreshing for a change.”
Trudy huffed and turned back around, looking rejected and defeated. Mia tried to feel something for her, besides animosity, but as of yet, it just wasn’t working.
“Mama and Daddy spoke to Aaron on the phone,” she offered.
Trudy threw her a brief glance. “Did they? When? How’d that go?”
“…This mornin’.” She took another sip from her glass. “I’m gonna take him to church soon so they can meet him. Let me tell you, he talked to my father for over an hour, just the two of ’em. Daddy started out mad as hell but Aaron got a way with words… It blew my mind. I wish I had recorded that shit.”
Trudy looked at up at her, her face split in a smile. “You can’t just leave me like that. You got to tell me what he said.”
Mia took a slow sip of her drink, and continued. “He said, ‘Mista Armstrong, I know you’ve already heard of me but I’m still going to offer you a formal introduction. My plan was to come and see you, but I understand that I will be meeting you soon anyway. I didn’t want to have to wait a week to talk to you though. So, if you’ll oblige me, I’d like to just tell you a bit about myself.’”
“What did Uncle Lance say?” Trudy asked, clearly already engrossed.
“Daddy said, ‘Mr. Pike, my children and I are close. Nobody below or above can tear us apart. I’m not afraid of you, and you can go ahead and tell me about yourself before we meet at church but I’m not really about a bunch of talk. I’m about action. Seein’ is believing. I believe everyone is worthy of God’s forgiveness, but that sure don’t mean that you are going to waltz into my family without showing us that you have changed. Your background is disturbing, but none of us are without sin. Mia believes this is all about her choice and what she thinks, and it’s her life to do with as she pleases. But if my baby’s heart gets broken, Mr. Pike, on account of your foolishness and sick ways, it then becomes about me and her mama, and her brothers and sisters, too. Now go on ahead with what you have to say.’”