Street Soldier

by Silhouettes

  The judge took his seat, and about thirty minutes later Romeo came out and stood before the judge. He was handcuffed, his hair was nappy as hell, and it looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks. When he spotted me he cracked a tiny smile. I knew he was disappointed that his grandmother wasn’t there. He stood next to the public defender, and when the judge asked Romeo to state his full name, he also read the charges against him and asked for his plea. Romeo said his full name—Romeo Lee Robertson—and then pled not guilty. The prosecutor then went on to tell the judge why Romeo should be denied bond. The public defender argued that Romeo shouldn’t. I guess it really didn’t matter either way, as Romeo’s grandmother wasn’t putting up her house, nor was I capable of getting the kind of money he would possibly need to be free.

  When all was said and done, the judge looked at Romeo with disgust and quickly made his decision. No bond would be set, he would be tried as an adult, and Romeo would remain in jail until his trial, which was scheduled in two months. Romeo turned to look at me, shaking his head. I cut my eyes at the judge, and before I said anything that got me in trouble, I rushed out of the courtroom. I put my hoodie over my head, realizing how much Mama’s words made sense. The white man ran this shit, and there wasn’t much especially a black young man like me could do about it.

  No sooner had I walked through the door than the phone was ringing. Mama wasn’t there. When I picked up the phone, it was Romeo. As always, he said that he didn’t have much time to talk, but wanted me to talk to his grandmother about bringing him some money and books to read. He was disappointed that she hadn’t come with me today, but I had no control over her decision. He then advised me not to worry about his case, but admitted to being afraid about what would happen. I told him that I was worried too, but would do my best to get some money and books to take to him. As soon as we ended our call, I grabbed the car keys so I could go see what was up with his grandmother. Romeo said that she hadn’t been answering her phone, and it wasn’t like her not to at least talk to him.

  A bunch of cars were parked outside of Romeo’s grandmother’s house, and when I knocked on the door, his uncle came to it. Out of the five uncles that Romeo had, Trevor was the only decent one in the family. He stepped on the porch to talk to me.

  “My mother isn’t here,” he said with a blank expression. “She died yesterday in her sleep, and my family is here to go over the arrangements. I know she was supposed to go to Romeo’s arraignment today, and tell Romeo that I’m sorry, but . . .”

  He got choked up and started to cry. I really didn’t know what to say, but I knew the news would be another setback for Romeo. He loved his grandmother, and I was sure that he would feel as if her worries about him contributed to her death. I wasn’t even sure if I would tell him, and, at this point, I was going to leave it up to his family to do so. I told Trevor how sorry I was for his loss, and left. I couldn’t stop thinking about how, over the years, his grandmother had been nothing but nice to everyone. Thinking about her had me thinking about Mama. I hoped that our relationship didn’t come to an abrupt end as this one had.

  Mama hadn’t been home all day. I was hungry again, but at least there was some bologna and cheese in the fridge for me to make a sandwich. I also made a pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid, then headed for my room to chow down. I sat on the floor with my PS3 controller in one hand and my sandwich in the other. My thoughts were about Romeo and his grandmother, but then I started to think about Ms. Macklin. I wanted to be alone with her again, and there was no way in hell I’d let her stop me again. I felt a bit let down. It had seemed as if the moment she got a glance at my dick, she shut me down. Maybe it wasn’t big enough for her, or maybe my kissing techniques weren’t right? Older women expected more from sex, and I had to admit that I wasn’t always as creative as I could be. Most of the time, I found myself in stick-and-move situations. It was all about getting a nut, but I couldn’t approach Ms. Macklin in that manner. I’d have to take my time with her, making sure that every inch of her body was satisfied. I had watched numerous porn movies in my day, but it was time for me to brush up. I took a few more bites of my sandwich, then looked in the closet for one of my porn DVDs. I put one in the DVD player, and began to take notes. I’d never eaten pussy, but the man in the video was fucking the woman with his curled, pointed tongue. I stuck out my tongue, trying to make it flow like his. The woman in the video was pulling her hair out, telling the man how spectacular his performance felt. I wanted to make Ms. Macklin feel that way, and as my tongue started to get into a rhythm, I looked in the mirror to see how I looked doing it. I closed my eyes, visualizing how pretty her pussy looked at the strip club that day. In my mind, I was tearing it up, too. I became even more anxious about being alone with her again.

  I put my tongue back into my mouth, stroking my hardness down below. I was just about ready to get off, but the phone interrupted me. Without looking at the called ID, I answered.

  “Jamal Perkins?” the stern voice on the other end asked.

  “Yeah, who’s callin?”

  “This is Monesha’s father. My daughter is pregnant, young man, and from my understanding, you’re the father. You need to get with Monesha’s mother and me, and tell us how you intend to take care of your baby.”

  “I don’t need to do nothin’. You need to set up a spot for your daughter on the Maury show, because I am not the father of that baby. Until you have proof, don’t call my house disrespectin’ me no more.”

  I hung up. How dare Monesha’s trifling ass try to put her baby off on me? These girls were proving themselves to be something else. Before it was all said and done, I was gon’ have to hurt somebody for lying on me. I lay across my bed, and quickly got back to my thoughts of eating Ms. Macklin’s pussy.

  Chapter 10

  Mama had been whack. We were constantly arguing about stupid shit, and since she didn’t have Raylo around no more to gripe with, she turned her bullshit on me. I almost fucked her up last night, but instead I left the house and went to one of the football players’ houses to chill. His name was Cedric, and I’d known him since elementary school. We hadn’t gotten close until recently, and that was because Romeo wasn’t around. Cedric was hooked up in some gang shit, but he always treated me with respect. Next to me, he was also good at playing football, so that’s why we pretty much got along. Just this week, he and I had robbed a lady coming out of a bank that was near his house. She had over $1,600 on her, so we both split it. I went to go see Romeo, but they wouldn’t let me see him because I was under-aged. They said I had to have a parent or guardian with me, but so much for that shit. Still, I left some money for him and some books to read. I had to coax a guard into letting me do that, but I guess she felt sorry for me. A few days later he wrote me, saying that he was bored out of his mind, and he thanked me for being there for him. He asked about his grandmother, but in the letter I wrote to him I simply told him that I couldn’t get in touch with her. According to his letter, no one from Romeo’s family had reached out to him, and I knew he felt alone. Hopefully, he knew he had a true friend in me, and forever would.

  We were on winter break at school, and prior to that, Ms. Macklin had not been at school for two weeks. Football season had wrapped up, and we lost the last two games. I didn’t even play in one of them, only because I wasn’t feeling up to it. Coach Johnson wasn’t the kind of man who inspired me, and he could tell that I wasn’t feeling nothing about him. I had an awkward feeling that Ms. Macklin hadn’t been to work because of him, and I had planned to drop by her place to see what was up.

  For now, though, Christmas was next week and so was my birthday. Cedric and I were in the streets, straight up getting it done. We’d been to the mall, shoplifting our asses off. I had so much shit, and kept most of it at his house. My intention was to sell all of the items I’d gotten, and I’d already unloaded about two grand worth of merchandise to everyday, ordinary people on the streets. Between stealing at the stores, and robbing folks on parking lots, I ba
rely had time to do anything else. Making money this way was a’ight, and the scared looks on people’s faces were priceless. Everybody wanted to live, and it was all about calling on God. Cedric liked putting fear in people more than me, and as we sat in the car eyeballing this Uncle Tom–looking black man, we suspected he would be our next victim. He was busy on his cell phone, carrying numerous bags from shops at the mall. As soon as he clicked his chirper, we saw the lights to a black BMW come on. Cedric hopped out of the car, bumping the man’s shoulder with his. The brotha took the phone away from his ear, irritated by the bump.

  “Excuse you,” he said to Cedric. “Didn’t you feel how hard you bumped me?”

  As the man’s head was turned, I crept up on him. I cracked him upside his head with my Glock, and the abrupt blow sent him staggering to the ground. Cedric grabbed his bags, and as I tried to reach into his pockets for his wallet, he struggled with me. I punched his face, and I’d be damned if he didn’t punch me back. I figured that the ongoing struggle would draw attention, and as I looked up, I saw two white women peeping over the cars to see what was up. They picked up their pace, I guess not making such a big deal of two black men fighting. Cedric thought fast, and when he placed his Glock against the man’s temple, that’s when the man calmed down and backed away from me. I stood, stumbling backward with his wallet in my hand.

  “Don’t shoot me, please,” the man’s voice shivered with his hands defensively held out.

  I could see the fury in Cedric’s eyes, and I ran off to get the car. After all of the begging and pleading the man had done, I heard the gunshots ring out like firecrackers. I saw the man’s body drop to the ground, and sped up so Cedric could get in the car. He dove into the front seat and I skidded out of the parking lot.

  At first, things were pretty quiet in the car. This was the first time we’d had to shoot somebody. I suspected that it wasn’t Cedric’s first time, as he seemed calm as ever. We drove back to his house, and searched through the bags and man’s wallet. He had a measly twenty dollars, but lots of credit cards. Inside the bags were some cashmere sweaters, a pair of jeans, women’s negligees, a pearl necklace, and some items for kids. Yeah, he was a family man, and the wedding band on his finger implied it. Cedric and I divvied up the items, and couldn’t help but tune into the news, where the reporters were discussing what had happened at the mall. According to one reporter, the man was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. The police had no suspects or motive.

  Cedric stood, sliding his Glock down his pants. “And they won’t ever find any suspects or motives, either.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I said, somewhat on edge about somebody seeing us or getting the license plates on Romeo’s car.

  “Man, as long as it’s a black person, the police don’t give a damn. That’s why I don’t even fuck with white folks. They will hunt a nigga down if a person is white, but rarely catch a black man’s killer.”

  I started thinking about Romeo’s case, and what Cedric said was right. Nah, they didn’t give a damn about that man and his family, and, obviously, neither did we. It was all about making money for me, and if somebody got hurt in the process, so be it. The man should have upped his shit without a fight. It’s only when a nigga play gangsta that I gotta get gangsta back. That’s what he got, and I damn sure wasn’t gon’ sit there and fight with his ass. That would have sparked more attention. The more I thought about it, the more I had to say that Cedric did the right thing to protect us.

  My birthday had come and gone, and so had Christmas. I hadn’t seen Mama in days, but she did call on Christmas morning to tell me she was at a friend’s house and wasn’t sure when she was coming home. She claimed she needed a break from the house, but that actually meant that she needed a break from me. I wished her a Merry Christmas and ended the call. She hadn’t even called to wish me a happy birthday, but Romeo did. Our conversation was short, but it did me justice to hear his voice. He seemed a bit down, and was ready for his case to go to trial. We hoped for good news to come out of it, and with the truth being told, how could it not work out in his favor?

  Nadine had also called on my birthday. She left a message on voice mail. I didn’t call her back, as I didn’t want her getting any ideas about me accepting the baby she was carrying. Some of the other chicks from my school had called too, and, just for the hell of it, I drove to Sabrina’s house so I could get the birthday present she had waiting for me. This time, sex was better with Sabrina, especially tackling it without Romeo. I finally tried to experiment with eating pussy. It was okay, but Sabrina didn’t have her stuff together like Ms. Macklin did. Her bush was too hairy and the Brillo Pad feeling had me thinking that I was gon’ cut my lips. I went with the flow, simply because my performance had her screaming at the top of her lungs. She kept screaming my name, and I liked that shit. It let me know how much I was in control, and that was a good thing. Then again, maybe not. She had been working my nerves, begging for me to come over every day since then.

  Today, however, I didn’t have time. School was back in session in two days, and I wanted to see what was up with Ms. Macklin. I drove by her apartment, making sure that Coach Johnson was nowhere in sight. He wasn’t, so I went to the door and knocked. Moments later, Ms. Macklin opened the door looking somber as ever. She didn’t have on a drop of makeup, her hair was brushed back into a ponytail, and the smile I expected to see wasn’t there.

  “Jamal, what are you doing here?” she asked without inviting me inside.

  I put my hands in my pockets, shivering from the cold and gusty wind.

  “I just stopped by to check on you. You hadn’t been to work, and I hope it didn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “No,” she said, widening the door. “Come in.”

  I was delighted that she invited me in, so I stepped inside and removed the hood from my new leather jacket. I followed Ms. Macklin into her spacious kitchen that was separated from the living room, but visible. She leaned against the counter with her arms folded, and I took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “I don’t like you showing up like this,” she said. “But please don’t think that my absences had anything to do with you.”

  “I apologize for poppin’ up like this, ma, but I was worried about you. You’d been on my mind, and I figured you wasn’t comin’ to work because you were tryin’ to avoid me.”

  Ms. Macklin rubbed her hair back with her hand, then tightened the belt on the pink silk robe she wore. It revealed her shapely, smooth legs. If only I could see, taste, and touch what was underneath.

  “I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I was trying to avoid someone else. The situation with you hasn’t helped me one bit, and I feel terrible about what happened the last time you were here. I crossed the line, Jamal, and I am deeply sorry for doing so. That should have never happened.”

  “I disagree, and there is nothin’ that you can say to me to make me regret it. As for you tryin’ to avoid someone, would that person be Coach Johnson?”

  She hesitated to answer, but nodded.

  “If you don’t mind me askin’, what’s up with y’all? Why you always letting that nigga get you down?”

  Ms. Macklin rubbed her forehead, then came over to the table to take a seat. She had a sad look on her face, and all she did was move her head from side to side. “Let’s just say that I should have known better, Jamal. I’ve been making some really bad decisions, and getting myself involved with Coach Johnson was the worst thing I could have ever done.”

  “I don’t mean to sound harsh or anything, but didn’t you see this comin’? I mean, he’s a married man, and married men always lie to their mistresses. You kind of come off as bein’ naïve, and I hadn’t pegged you as bein’ that way.”

  She shrugged. “I thought I was in love with him. He told me that he and his wife were having major problems and they would soon be divorced. As much time as we spent together, I truly believed him. That is, until she followed him over here and he was force
d to confront both of us together. Needless to say, he told me he’d made a mistake and he went home with his wife. I’ve called him several times for an explanation, but he won’t even return my phone calls. I . . . I feel so betrayed and hurt.” Ms. Macklin paused, taking a hard swallow. Her eyes watered, and she continued. “I thought he cared, but he obviously doesn’t. I can’t even look at him right now, and that’s why I haven’t been coming to work.”

  I was blunt. “That’s stupid. Why you lettin’ that nigga get to you like that and you got kids at that school countin’ on you? Especially me. My motivation just ain’t been the same. Honestly, I looked forward to seein’ your pretty face every day.”

  I smiled, and, lucky for me, so did Ms. Macklin.

  “Jamal, that’s kind of you to say, but I don’t want credit for motivating you. You have missed too many days of school, and with me there or not, you’d better start thinking about how you’re going to make it out of that school.”

  “I’ve been thinkin’ about it, but I’m tellin’ the truth about how excited I be to see you. If you can promise me that you’ll come back to work, then I can promise you that I’ll show up every day, until the end of the year.”

  Ms. Macklin blushed, then playfully cut her eyes to look away. “I can’t make you any promises, but we’ll see how I’m feeling in two more days. School starts back then, and hopefully I’ll be feeling better. For now, I need some time alone to clear my head and figure out what I need to do.”