“China, you really need to lighten up.” She sauntered across the floor of the motel room and sat down upon the edge of the bed. Smiling, Jamaica lay back, sprawling out her arms and legs until she covered the entire lower half of the bed.
LaChina knocked Jamaica’s arms away. “Hey, watch my legs, Nature Girl.”
Jamaica shook her head. “Ha, ha, real funny. You really need to unwind, relax, get a little.”
The toilet flushed, and Jamaica bolted upright. She turned toward LaChina as the bathroom door swung open.
LaChina waved her hand. “Troy, I’d like you to meet Jamaica. Jai, this is Troy.”
Jamaica covered her open mouth, and Troy, who was wrapped inside of a wet towel, quickly stepped back into the bathroom.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company,” Troy said, smiling sheepishly. His gaze shifted from LaChina to Jamaica. “Nice to meet you.” He quickly closed the bathroom door.
“Oh my God,” declared Jamaica. She turned toward LaChina, who shrugged her shoulders.
“I got bored, so I went to the club,” LaChina explained.
“China, you didn’t!”
“You did!” LaChina retorted. “I needed to unwind.”
Jamaica slapped her friend across her shoulder. “I can’t believe you!” She waved her hand toward the bathroom door. “You just met him!”
“It was a reward.” LaChina leaned back and crossed her legs.
“A reward?”
LaChina wrapped the covers around her body and stood. “Yes, a reward. I’ve wrapped up all of the loose ends and successfully closed the Sea World video shoot.” She turned toward Jamaica and frowned. “You won’t believe how protective they are of those damn things.”
Jamaica fell back onto the bed. “Yippie. Now I’ve got to kiss a big, slimy whale on video for several minutes, for all the world to see. Tiera, the fish kisser.”
LaChina knelt next to her friend. “Think of it like this, we don’t have to stay here any longer. No more boy toys, no more cold, just fun in the sun, surrounded by half-naked island men, catering to our every wish.”
Jamaica turned and rolled over on her stomach, so that she could come face-to-face with her friend. “Well, I was thinking about…you know…maybe hanging around until Christmas.”
LaChina bolted up from her position on the floor.
“What?” It was a shout. “Hang around until Christmas!”
Jamaica nodded. “Yeah.”
LaChina adjusted the blanket around her body and began pacing. “Uh-un, no way.” She shook her head. “Jai, it’s going to snow.”
“So? Christmas should be spent in the snow. How else can you make snowmen?”
LaChina stopped her pacing and frowned at Jamaica. “You know what, I’ve just noticed something. One, your vocabulary has gone to hell, and two, you’ve gone crazy.”
Jamaica smacked her lips. “China, what are you talking about?”
“You’re crazy,” LaChina told her, as she resumed her frenzied pacing. “Weren’t you the one, who only last year…and a few weeks ago, said…and I quote, ‘China darling, Christmas should be spent somewhere warm, somewhere tropical.’ That was you, wasn’t it?”
Jamaica extended her hands in a calming motion. “Okay, okay. So we did the tropical thing, now let’s do the winter thing.”
LaChina stopped once again, and stared at Jamaica. “We can do the winter thing in New York.”
Jamaica shook her head. “I’m not going.”
“What? What do you mean you’re ‘not going’?”
“I’m not going,” Jamaica repeated.
LaChina sat down on the bed next to her friend. “Jai, I was kidding when I said that you were in love.” She tapped Jamaica’s shoulder, causing her to look up at her. “You haven’t really fallen for this boy, have you?”
“Of course not. I mean, how could I? What does he possibly have to offer me?” Jamaica asked.
LaChina stared at her. The silence combined with LaChina’s steady gaze caused Jamaica to shift nervously and shake her head.
“Nothing. He had nothing!” Jamaica said forcefully. “I mean, I’m a superstar, right?” Her eyes met LaChina’s for a brief moment, before she cut them away.
LaChina shook her head. She knew her friend.
“What has this boy done to you?” she asked with an exhale.
Jamaica rolled over onto her back and gazed at the ceiling. “The same thing Tyrone did to you.”
“Troy, his name is Troy.”
“Whatever.”
LaChina stared at Jamaica for several moments. Jamaica continued to avoid eye contact. LaChina shook her head.
“Like I said a minute ago, Jai, when I said that you were in love, I was only kidding before. But now…” LaChina shook her head. “Jai, what are you going to do with him? Girl, you’re from two different worlds.”
Jamaica exhaled forcibly and shook her head. “I don’t know, China.” Her fist rose to her mouth, where she bit down upon her knuckle and stared off into space.
“I don’t know,” she repeated softly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The lighting was dim. The darkness of the room allowed the flourescent blue lighting which rounded the stage, and the massive mirrored columns throughout the room to show brightly. Its blue radiance reflected off the numerous chrome fixtures scattered throughout the room, creating a cool, modern ambiance.
The atmosphere inside of the room was expectant, restless, festive. Jamaica leaned back inside of her thick, overstuffed, blue leather chair, and sipped patiently on her gin and tonic. She watched as the first act appeared.
He was a young comedian. Slick, hip, urban. He dressed well for a comedian, Armani, she noticed. It spoke volumes about his talent. This guy was in demand, and he got paid.
“Welcome to the Comedy Club on The River Walk, my name is B, and I’ll be your worst nightmare for the next ten minutes,” he told them. “Like I said, my name is B, but all of my friends call me BB. I want y’all to know, that it has absolutely nothing to do with my hair, though. Hell, if that was the case, it would be a whole lot of people in here named ‘Nappy’!”
The crowd laughed.
“And quite a few named ‘Ugly,’” the comedian continued. He pointed. “And this one over here would be named ‘Fat Ass’!”
The audience laughed hysterically.
“Damn, I’ll bet your momma and daddy were fat too, ’cause that shit you got has got to be generational!”
The crowd responded with laughter, whistles, and cheers.
“Oh, so y’all like fat jokes, huh?” the comedian asked.
The crowd clapped wildly.
“Okay, well try this one,” he told them. “Your momma is so fat, when her beeper goes off, people think she’s backing up!”
The crowd went wild.
“Your momma is so fat, when she wears her yellow raincoat, people run after her yelling TAXI! Your momma is so fat, she left home with high heels, and came back with flip-flops! She is so fat, she has to iron her pants in the driveway! Your momma is so fat, she puts on lipstick with a paint roller!”
The crowd was laughing out of control. The young comedian nodded, laughed, and continued.
“Your momma is so fat, she sat on a quarter and got two dimes and a nickel! She is so fat, she sat on a dollar bill, and blood came outta George Washington’s nose! Your momma’s so fat, her senior picture had to be an aerial view! She is so fat, that she qualifies for group insurance! Your momma is so fat, I swerved to avoid her on the road, and I ran outta gas! Your momma’s so fat, she sells shade in the summer! Your momma’s so fat, her nickname is DANG! Your momma’s so fat, she’s got tan lines from the refrigerator light!”
By the time the young comedian finished, the crowd was laughing hysterically. He bowed politely.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is B. Brown. I hope that you enjoy the show. Good night, and God bless!”
“Yeah! Yeah!” Jamaica stood laughing and c
lapping wildly. She even ventured a few whistles. It felt good to applaud someone else’s talent. “He’s good, huh, T?”
No one answered her.
Jamaica turned toward Tameer’s seat, only to find herself alone. Curious, she remained standing, and gazed around the club in a vain effort to find him. She could not.
Where in the devil did that boy go now, she wondered.
Soon, the clapping subsided, and Jamaica had to take her seat.
In all probability, he went to the restroom, she told herself. Well, he sure did miss a good act.
Tameer’s voice was what drew her attention to the stage.
“I…I had written a poem to read, but I don’t want to read it anymore,” he told the audience. “Upon coming here, I realized that it didn’t really say everything that I wanted to say. So, I guess I’ll wing it instead.”
Silence engulfed the audience, and all eyes in the room were now trained upon him. Nervous, and visibly showing it, Tameer cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and pressed on.
“My life had some unexpected turns, and I found myself lost. I found myself having my dreams shattered, and not being able to pick up the pieces and move on. You know how when you know, or always have known, how things in your life would be? Well, that was how I was. I had a plan, and it was a pretty good plan. But you know what? I didn’t have a backup. I was devastated, reeling.”
Tameer walked down the steps leading from the stage, and into the audience. Jamaica’s hands were covering the lower half of her tear-filled face, wiping away the moisture. It hurt her to hear him say those things. Tameer continued, as he slowly walked toward her.
“I went on with the motions of life, but not on with life. I could see the colors, but I didn’t understand them. I could smell the fragrances, but I didn’t recognize them. Then…then one morning God sent me an angel. One morning he gave me two beautiful sunrises. One in the sky, and another in the form of a gift named Jamaica.”
Tameer stopped in front of a balling Jamaica and stared into her eyes. “I…there…there’s not one night that goes by, that I don’t fall down on my knees and thank Almighty God for her. She…she gave me my dream back. She gave me life, she gave me breath, and now I feel as if I can’t breathe without her.”
Tameer held the wireless microphone in his fidgety left hand, as he slowly knelt down in front of Jamaica.
“Jai, I love you. I don’t want you to leave. I…I know that I don’t have anything to offer you right now. I have no money, I can’t give you diamonds, or expensive furs. I can’t give you exotic cars, or a big, fancy house. But, Jamaica, I promise you this. I will love you for all time. I will love you when my last breath leaves my body. I will love you on Earth, and I will love you in Heaven. I will love you while you’re young, and I will love you when the years have gone by. I will love you deeper than the furthest depths of the mightiest oceans, and more infinite than the stars in God’s Heaven. For in you, I have found my Heaven. Don’t ever leave me, Jamaica. Don’t ever take my Heaven away.”
“I hate you, Tameer!” Jamaica screamed.
Tameer closed his car door and engaged his alarm system. “What are you talking about?”
Jamaica wiped another tear from her face. “Because you…I just hate you!”
Tameer walked around the car and wrapped his arms around Jamaica. “That’s not what you said at the comedy club.” He smiled and pulled her close.
Jamaica placed her hand in between their bodies and pushed away.
“That’s why I hate you! You…I’ve never met anybody like you!”
Jamaica broke away from Tameer’s rapture and walked into the street. It was cold, and with each of her breaths, puffs of smoke appeared in the air.
“Before I met you, my life was simple,” Jamaica continued. “I knew everything I wanted to do, I had everything I wanted. I was happy.”
“And now you’re not?”
She stomped the ground hard. “Damn you, Tameer! That’s not what I meant! You know what I’m trying to say. I…I…I don’t know anymore.” She folded her arms and frowned in frustration.
Tameer smiled and closed in on her.
“Well, my life is clear. I don’t know why yours is so confused.”
“Because, Tameer, I already had a life before I met you. And now I have this life with you, and it’s just as good.”
Tameer laughed. “Jamaica, you don’t have to choose! Just make me a part of the life you already have.”
Jamaica unfolded her arms, and walked to Tameer. She lifted her hand and caressed his face.
“Baby, I wish it were that simple.” She turned away from him, and again folded her arms. “I wish life were that simple.”
Tameer walked up behind her, and pulled her close.
“Life is what you make it. If you make it complex, it will be complex.” Gently he rocked her from side to side. “Feel how warm it is in my arms?”
Jamaica closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against Tameer’s chest. It did feel good in his arms. She wished they could stand there, with him holding her all night long.
“Tameer, I love you. I…I don’t want to leave you.”
“Then don’t.”
Jamaica turned and faced him. “Christmas…. After Christmas, I’ll tell you something about me, and then we’ll decide.”
“Tell me now.”
Jamaica shook her head. “No, not now.”
It hurt him that she didn’t trust him enough to tell him or feel that she could share with him. He stepped back from her, and tried in vain to create some levity.
“What, are you a man, or something?” he asked with a smile.
Jamaica folded her arms and shifted her weight to one side. “Ha, ha, real funny. Was I a man last night?”
She shook her head and turned away from him. His attempt at levity only angered her. She had too much on her mind right now, for his stupid jokes. But still, she didn’t mean to slam the door on him so hard. She smiled at him again.
“You watch too much Springer,” she told him.
Tameer laughed, and his laughter became infectious. She joined in.
“Jai, whatever it is that you have to tell me, I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”
She shook her head. “It’s not, trust me.”
Jamaica turned away from him. Trust me, she thought. He wouldn’t be able to do that after she told him who she was. She wouldn’t be able to say those words to him any longer, after all of the misleading that she had done. She had lied to Tameer for weeks.
Tameer wrapped his arms around Jamaica again. “I’ll wait, but if it’s not such a big deal, then I don’t see what the big deal is about telling me now. Whatever past you have, whatever mistakes you’ve made, Jamaica…I love you.”
It hurt her even more. Still, she turned and kissed him.
“I love you too,” she whispered.
A drop of moisture landed on Jamaica’s nose. It was followed by several more drops on her uncovered face. She peered up into the sky.
The snow was thick, moist. It fell in solid clumps of moth ball-sized crystals, thin at first, but it quickly turned into a solid sheet of continuous snowfall. She loved it. He loved it. Quickly, the child came out in both of them.
Jamaica extended her arms out to her sides, turning her palms toward the pinkish-blue, evening sky. She stepped away from Tameer and looked skyward, as the crystals fell onto her face and melted on contact. Her smile was enchanting.
“I love the snow!” she shouted.
“Enjoy it,” Tameer told her. “It doesn’t happen often around here.”
Jamaica stared at Tameer in disbelief.
“Really?” Snow was a given in New York, especially around Christmas.
Tameer nodded. “It happens every eight to ten years. But when it does happen, it’s a gift from Heaven. A miracle almost.”
Jamaica peered up into the puffy snow-filled sky and smiled. “A miracle.” She nodded. “I like that. God’s granting us a m
iracle.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The first snowball she threw landed against the headboard, disintegrating and sending puffs of liquid crystal falling down upon Tameer’s face. The coldness startled him into consciousness. He awoke in time only to present Jamaica with a better target for her second snowball.
Tameer’s arms flew up to his face after the snowball hit, in case Jamaica had prepared a third.
“Dang it, Jamaica! That stuff is cold!”
“It’s supposed to be cold, silly, it’s snow!”
“Oh yeah, well, how would you like for me to show you how it feels?” Tameer asked gruffly.
Jamaica smiled like a child about to show their parents their newly captured garden snake. She produced a third snowball which she had hidden inside the pocket sewn into her hooded sweat shirt.
Tameer’s hands flew up to block it.
“What are you going to do with that?” he asked. Goosebumps appeared over his shirtless torso, as he imagined the frozen compacted snow striking him.
Jamaica took a step backward toward the door. The wetness from being outside caused her fleece-lined Ugg boots to squeak. Tameer looked down toward the floor where the noise had come from, and the snowball was lobbed.
It landed on the top of his head, and splattered onto the nakedness of his back, causing him to let out a wild Banshee yell.
“War!” he shouted, pointing at a running Jamaica. “You have started a war!”
Tameer leaped out of bed wearing only his polka dot boxers, and pursued a fleeing and screaming Jamaica down the creaking stairs, and out of the front door.
Tameer was naturally faster than Jamaica. Her bulky clothing and hulking jacket made her even easier to catch. He quickly tackled her, and they fell into the dormant, wet grass and soft mud hidden beneath three feet of soft, wet snow, which cushioned their landing. Jamaica’s bright red-and-yellow knit bini flew off of her head upon impact, sending her hair flying all over her face. Neither cared.
Jamaica quickly broke away from a nearly naked and freezing Tameer, and was able to form the first snowball. Her quick launch scored a direct hit against Tameer’s bare chest. His snowball returned, though with much more force, and scored a direct hit on Jamaica’s now frozen forehead. They laughed and screamed, and they engaged in an impromptu snowball fight, with only the screaming red convertible Mustang in between them.
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