Street Soldier

by Silhouettes

  I slowly stood up, figuring that was my cue to leave. “I’ll let you get your thoughts together, but I’d better see you at school, a’ight?”

  She didn’t respond. She got up from the chair, and moved toward the door to let me out. I followed close behind her, gazing at her plump ass, which was moving underneath her silk robe. Damn, I wanted to fuck her so badly. My dick was about to bust through my jeans. I could feel it pulsating. My anxiousness caused me to ease my arm around her waist before she opened the door. She quickly turned around, staring face-to-face with me.

  “Jamal,” she said.

  “No. Prince. We’re getting on a more personal level, wouldn’t you say?”

  She hated to grin, but did. “Prince, please don’t touch me like that. You are taking us down a dangerous path, and I don’t see anything good that can come of this.”

  I took a few steps forward, backing her up to the door. “I think you’re so wrong about that. And, just for the record, my birthday just passed and I’m eighteen years old now. We can do this, and as soon as you get your head on straight, we will.”

  She shot me down by shaking her head. “No, we can’t.”

  I ignored her rejection. “Can I have a birthday kiss, or do I have to take it?”

  “Prince, stop,” she said, placing her hand on my chest that had gotten closer to hers. “You don’t understand how complicated . . .”

  I leaned in to silence her words. My soft lips touched hers and she mumbled. A few seconds later, she was silent and the kissing became intense. So intense that she lifted her hand to rub the back of my head. I wanted her to feel my hardness, so I pushed it in her direction. My hands lowered to her ass, and just as I was getting ready to search underneath her robe, she grabbed my hands.

  Our closed eyes popped open at the same time. “Happy belated birthday,” she softly whispered. “Now leave.”

  Was she fucking teasing me or what? This shit wasn’t going down like this. I was getting frustrated with her playing games. “What is up with you?” I asked in a begging and pleading manner. “You know how bad I want to do this shit, and you keep on playin’ a nigga like you ain’t feelin’ him. You messin’ with my self-esteem, and if you—”

  Ms. Macklin held the sides of my face to shush me. “I’m under pressure right now, and I don’t want to do something because I’m feeling hurt by someone else. Maybe our time together will come, but, please, not today. I don’t want to put you in the middle of this. Go home, and enjoy your next few days off. I’ll see you at school on Monday, okay?”

  I was hypnotized by her presence, and all I could do was nod. She laid an even better kiss on me this time, then opened the door so I could leave. I felt like a zombie, waving good-bye and telling her that I’d see her soon.

  On the drive home, my mind was cluttered with the thoughts of Ms. Macklin. She had me all fucked up, and I wanted to tell somebody what I was feeling. I hadn’t even told Romeo about us yet, only because she had asked me not to say a word to anyone. Also, I didn’t want him to feel bad about not having his freedom. I knew he was going crazy in jail, and the last time I’d spoken to him, he said just that.

  On Monday, I was lucky that I had made it to school. Just last night there was a serious bloodbath in my hood. Niggas were dropping like flies, and steel had been slinging everywhere. The news was reporting one murder incident after another, all Black-on-Black crimes. The chief of police was even on TV asking people to please come forward if they knew anything about the crimes. So much for that, because in my hood, people weren’t talking. No one wanted to be labeled as a snitch, and that in itself wasn’t a good thing. I had been involved with two of the fights that occurred, but my Glock had been pulled on no one. Some dope-pushing fools from the other side of town tried to jump on Cedric as we’d left a music store. Cedric started spraying bullets and had every last one of those fools running for cover. There was no getting away from me, as I was an extremely fast runner. I caught up with two of the brothas, and once Cedric met up with us, we delivered a bone-crushing beating that they would never forget. I had so much anger built up inside of me, and it felt good to let out my frustrations. The two brothas lay there in a pool of blood. At that point, using a gun wasn’t even necessary.

  My fists had done the job I wanted them to do, and that usually meant that somebody had been knocked unconscious. Even so, before Cedric and I made it home on foot, we were approached by another gang of niggas. Being with Cedric was bringing out too much drama, and I kept thinking about what Mama had said about watching the company you keep. This time, I sprinted down an alley to get away, hiding behind every trash Dumpster I could find. The brothas in a silver Cadillac were casing the alley and streets all night, trying to find me or Cedric. He was long gone; I’d seen him hop a fence to get away. We’d spoken on the phone last night, and it was good to know that he was safe. He talked about me joining the north-side gang he was in, but I hadn’t made a decision yet. I felt like I was living in another world without Romeo around, and even though I was happy about not hearing Mama’s sassy voice, I kind of missed her being around, too. I always wanted to belong to a family who had my back, and for the last month or so, Cedric had shown me that he had the qualifications of being a brother. I told him I’d get back to him about my decision to join a gang.

  Two days later, there I was laying my head on the table and waiting for Ms. Macklin to enter the class. She hadn’t made it in yet, nor had a substitute teacher. Nadine kept eyeballing me. I guessed she was mad because I hadn’t returned her phone calls. Sabrina was smiling at me, but there was only so much cheesing a brotha could take. That’s why my head was on the table, and having my ear against my arm helped drown out some of the loud talking in the classroom. What seemed to be only minutes later, Ms. Macklin came in, carrying a bunch of books in her arms. I jumped up to help her, but she ordered me to sit down.

  “As a matter of fact,” she said, “please take a seat at one of the desks. You no longer have to sit at the table next to me.”

  I sat at the table, denying her request. “Nah, I’m good. I like where I’m at, that way I can stay out of trouble.”

  Ms. Macklin didn’t respond. She placed the books on her desk and shouted for the students to be quiet. The room went silent.

  “Thank you,” she said, walking around to the front of her desk. She wore a khaki wrapped dress with high-heeled brown shoes. When she sat on top of her desk, she crossed her legs, displaying nothing but sexiness. I caught a side view of her, so maybe it was in my best interest to take a seat at one of the desks. I stood to go find the closest desk to the front.

  “Prince—I mean, Jamal—what are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m findin’ me a seat, ma,” I said, sitting at an empty desk that was in the third row, second seat. She waited until I was seated, then turned her attention back to the class.

  “Okay,” she sighed. “Has everyone been keeping up with the homework the substitute teacher gave you?”

  More “no’s” rang out than “yes’s.” I was a definite no.

  “How come?” Ms. Macklin asked. “Just because I’m not here, it doesn’t mean you all don’t have to do your work.”

  One of the cheerleaders, Elin, raised her hand. “Ms. Macklin, no offense to the substitute, but she didn’t explain stuff like you do. I couldn’t understand what she was saying, and she spent most of her time in here reading magazines.”

  Many people agreed. No matter what, Ms. Macklin continued to counsel us on how important it was for us to at least try to do it. Her words sounded like mumbo jumbo to me, and all I could do was sit there and scan my eyes up and down her legs. Damn, I thought. I actually know what her pussy looks like. I envisioned myself being inside of it, and, while deep in thought, I twirled around the new diamond-studded earring in my ear with my finger. I kept wetting my lips and rubbing my low waves that were cut and trimmed to perfection by a skilled barber. I couldn’t return to school looking like no bum, so I was dec
ked out in Rocawear gear from head to toe. Ms. Macklin seemed to appreciate my look, and every chance she got, she glanced in my direction. This shit was definitely working in my favor, and when she had mistakenly called me Prince, I knew she would soon be on my team. She went over several algebra equations on the board, then assigned us two pages to complete. For those who had done work in her absence, she advised them to turn in their papers for a grade and extra credit. Three measly people rushed up to her desk to turn in their papers, one being Nadine. Her belly was growing by the day, and when she looked at me, I turned my head in another direction.

  After the students took their seats, I went back to the table and sat near Ms. Macklin. She must have expected me to do so, and didn’t even look up. I started on my assignment, and before I knew it, the bell was ringing. Everyone rushed to close their books, and broke out toward the door so they could go. I took my time, and as Sabrina slowly made her way to the door, I followed her.

  Ms. Macklin called my name. “Jamal.” I turned. She held a red envelope in her hand. “Take this,” she said.

  I walked up to her, taking the envelope from her hand. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a birthday card, wishing you a happy one and thanking you for encouraging me to return to school. Now, go. I don’t want you late for your next class.”

  I was on cloud muthafuckin’ nine. I smiled, and moved a tad bit closer to her.

  “Thanks,” I whispered. “Can I have another one of those kisses, though?”

  She backed up. “No, and I mean it. Not here.”

  Never doing as I was told, I quickly smacked her lips and backed my way to the door. Our eyes stayed connected until I walked out of the door and made my way to my locker. I quickly opened the card to see what Ms. Macklin had written inside. It read, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PRINCE. THANKS FOR BEING THE KIND OF FRIEND YOU ARE, AND GOD BLESS YOU. IF YOU’RE NOT TOO BUSY THIS WEEKEND, I NEED HELP PAINTING MY APARTMENT. STOP BY AROUND NOON ON SATURDAY.

  The card wasn’t signed, but that didn’t matter. I knew who it was from and I could finally tell what she really wanted.

  Later that day, I sat in the cafeteria with Cedric and the rest of the football players. Our table was loud as ever, and we were talking about everybody and their mamas who came through the door. When Ms. Macklin came in, the fellas started talking shit. Everybody wanted to get hooked up, but little did they know I was getting so very close. I wanted to tell my secret, but I knew how much trouble it would cause her. She purposely walked by our table, and when Cedric called out her name, she turned.

  “Yes, Cedric,” she said, with all eyes on her.

  “I . . . I was wonderin’ if you would find time in your busy schedule to tutor me after hours. A brotha need some help, and the last time I checked, it was your duty to, uh, help a brotha out, right?”

  “No, my duty is to help those who want to be helped. The last time I checked, you dropped my class and haven’t been back since. I suggest you find yourself another tutor, Cedric, and good luck on doing so.”

  She walked away, and “dang’s” and “ooh’s” rang out. Cedric felt like shit and threw his hand back at her. “Man, fuck her. She ain’t uppin’ none of that anyway, and I bet her ass hollerin’ for a man to blow her back out.”

  I made no comment, and got back to my conversation with the fellas. I kept my eyes on Ms. Macklin, though, and when Coach Johnson entered the cafeteria, I saw them look at each other. He nudged his head, and a few minutes later, he left the cafeteria. Minutes following, she left. Just for the hell of it, I got up to be nosey. But as soon as I dumped my tray, Nadine approached me, holding up two fingers.

  “Can you find two minutes for me? I have something that I need to say to you, and I’ll be done with it.”

  I was in a rush to see where Ms. Macklin and Coach Johnson had gone to, but I knew Nadine wouldn’t let it go. We stepped outside of the cafeteria and I eased my hands in my pockets to listen.

  “Speak,” I said, displaying irritation on my face.

  “I’ve been thinking about quitting school. My mama said I’ll have to find a job to help take care of the baby, and since she works, I don’t know if I’ll have anyone to keep him. A few weeks ago, I found out it was a boy, and it would really mean a lot to me if you would consider helping me take care of him.”

  My face fell flat. I didn’t understand why this chick kept sweating me. I wasn’t even sure if the baby was mine, so for now I had nothing to offer her. “If you gotta quit school, then do it. Like I said before, I don’t know who the father of your baby is, and I ain’t claimin’ nothin’ until I’m one hundred percent sure. Stop fuckin’ harrassin’ me about this shit. I’m just about tired of hearin’ it.”

  Nadine’s brows went up and I swear she almost looked like the devil. “Harassing you,” she shouted with tears rushing up to her eyes. “I’ve barely said anything to you about this baby. I’m trying to deal with this by myself, Prince, but why should I have to? You know damn well that you’re the father, and you weren’t talking all this ill shit when you were fucking me, were you? You need to man up and take care of your goddamn responsibilities! I shouldn’t have to suffer like this. You have no idea what I’ve been going through.”

  People were starting to look at us, and, like always, I hated to feel embarrassed. I cocked my head from side to side and sucked my teeth. “I don’t give a fuck what you’ve been going through, girl. To hell with you and that baby. You—”

  Nadine caught me off guard and slapped the shit out of me. My cheek burned and I knew there was a handprint on it. My reflexes jumped, and before I knew it, she was against the wall getting the shit choked out of her. “You fuckin’ bitch!” I said, seething with anger. I was just about ready to tear her ass up, until Cedric pulled me off her. She gagged, coughing and screaming at the same time.

  “I hate you, Prince! I swear to God I hate you!”

  Cedric was holding me back only a few feet away from her, and that’s when she coughed out a gob of spit and spat in my face. I broke loose from Cedric’s grip, only to be stopped in my tracks by six other football players who pushed me away from Nadine and held me back. She was being consoled by some of her girlfriends, and I did my best to break away from the numerous players’ grips.

  “Chill, Prince,” one of the players said while gripping my neck. Two other players held my shoulders and one had my arm. I could feel Nadine’s saliva sliding down the side of my face.

  “You are lucky that I can’t get to yo’ ass right now,” I shouted, and struggled to get away from the players’ tight grips. Nadine had the nerve to taunt me while being pulled away by her friends.

  “Nah, that’s what you get! Bastard!”

  “Let me the fuck go,” I kept yelling. “I swear I’m gon’ kill this bitch!”

  The noise was too much for the teachers in the cafeteria, as well as for Coach Johnson and Ms. Macklin, who had come from nowhere. Ms. Macklin ordered Nadine’s friends to take her to the principal’s office. Coach Johnson called for the players to release me. They did, and I quickly wiped the spit from my face. Coach Johnson immediately reached for my arm, but I snatched it away. My face was still twisted from all that had happened.

  “Get your hands off me,” I snapped.

  He didn’t let go. “I’m taking you to the office. Let’s go.”

  I snatched away from him again. “To the office for what? She the one who put her goddamn hands on me! I’m the muthafucka who got spit on and slapped. I didn’t do nothin’ to her ass, but I guess I’m gon’ get suspended, too, right?”

  “I didn’t say that. All I’m saying is that you need to go to the office and cool down. Tell Mr. King what happened and ask him to question some of the students around here, so they can tell what happened. Now, if you’d rather stand here and argue with me, cool. Let’s do it, but I guarantee you that you won’t win an argument, nor a fight, with me.”

  Ms. Macklin stepped forward and reached her hand out to me. “Come with me,�
� she said. “Let’s go to the office to talk to Mr. King.” She asked two of the other students to go with us, and as we made our way to the principal’s office, they followed several feet behind us. I couldn’t help but ask Ms. Macklin where she and Coach Johnson had gone.

  “I’m not answering that right now,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s none of your business.”

  “I knew you would say that shit, ma. You got a smart-ass mouth too, and you’d better consider yourself lucky that it ain’t my business. If it were, shit would be goin’ down right about now.”

  Ms. Macklin halted her steps. She told the other students to meet us in the office and gave me a look that could kill.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” she shot back.

  “Take it how you want to take it. Teach.” I walked away.

  She rushed up from behind and turned me to face her. “So, now you think that you have the right to disrespect me? Is that what you think?” I didn’t respond. She pointed her finger at me and I could see the madness in her pretty eyes. “I am not like these little girls around here, Jamal, and you will not treat me as you do them. This is why I didn’t want you in my business, and damn you for stirring up my feelings, only for you to turn around and treat me ill. I’ll get someone else to help me paint my apartment, and, for now, you know what, Jamal? Screw you! Aside from that, stop referring to me as your darn ma. From now on, it’s Ms. Macklin to you.”

  She switched her sassy and sexy ass away from me, and left me standing there with nothing to say in return. I couldn’t believe that my own teacher had used that kind of language addressing me, but it was enough to make me chuckle. I heard someone clear his throat, and when I looked to see who it was, I saw it was Coach Johnson. He walked up to me, jiggling the change and keys in his pockets.

  “Did, uh, I just hear something that I wasn’t supposed to hear?” he asked.

  I rubbed the minimal hair above my lip, hoping that he’d heard everything. “Depends on what you heard.”