Beautiful Otherness

by Shirley Simmons

  “A clock, Kennedy? What in the hell made you grab the clock?”

  ‘‘Girl, it was the first thing I saw. I wanted to throw it at him but realized that it was plugged in. Turned out better than if I’d planned it that way. Man, swinging that thing felt good!”

  “You were swinging it like you were possessed. Did you see the fear in his eyes? That brother looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in that room with you. And why were you naked?”

  Giving her a stern look, I replied, ‘‘I was sleeping. And why weren’t you in the room with me? You and I were supposed to share that bedroom since we were sharing that suite with them.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Besides, when I get hot during the night, I take my bottoms off. That’s why most of the time I sleep naked.”

  “Do you sleep naked at home?”

  ‘Yes. Somehow I even manage to take off clothes in the winter.”

  It was at that moment I realized that ever since middle school I had begun to undress during the night because I would get hot. I never gave it much thought, and I am sure Chase didn’t mind it at all. But it left me pondering the outcome on this occasion.

  “If I’d had any idea either of those guys was coming into our bedroom, I surely would have had on something.”

  “I’m so sorry about what happened, Kennedy. When they came in, he wanted to continue to talk to me, and I did not want to wake you just to tell you I was leaving the room. When I stepped into his room to talk, that asshole was in the game room shooting pool and watching TV. New rule, if that situation should ever happen again, and I pray that it won’t, we are sleeping in the same bed, and I will make sure you are properly dressed unless we discuss it.”

  “I have been sleeping naked this entire damn trip, Murphy! That little pervert tried to go down on me. I thought I was dreaming when he tried to open my legs. I better never see him again.” I could feel the anger returning just thinking about it.

  With a sigh, Murphy asked, “Are you okay? And who is Phillip?”

  Just as Murphy asked about Phillip, two guys were walking into the café, which was good because I was once again about to think of a way to deflect the question. They stopped at our table and said we were the prettiest things they had seen that morning. Big whoop! False flattery got them nowhere, but thanks to them I had successfully managed to sidestep the question of Phillip.

  After spending about an hour strolling around Bayside admiring the yachts, sights, sounds, and smells of the city, it had us craving more, and the afternoon sun was inviting us to the beach. South Beach was just around the corner, a fifteen-minute drive away. En route, we stopped to fill up the Vette. My mind wandered while I pumped the gas. Murphy slumped in the passenger seat to relax.

  “Hey, you two!” Looking over from the pump, Roderick and Tim, the guys we’d met earlier at the cafe, were walking out of the gas station. “Man, Miami got some beautiful women. What a beautiful day.”

  His words caught me by surprise because I had not heard anyone say that since my father died. After some small talk, I told them that it was Murphy’s first time visiting Miami and we were going to South Beach to tan and see the Versace mansion. They insisted on being our tour guides and taking us to lunch on South Beach. So, we agreed to it because frankly at this time, we were winging it and trying to decide if we were going to head back to Orlando and then Little Rock.

  As Roderick and Tim showed us around the beach, they explained how it was divided into groups. Models, gays, locals, and tourists. They all had an unwritten section on South Beach. To the untrained eye it went unnoticed, but Miami had a lot of unnoticed things taking place right before our eyes.

  After a quick class, we could spot the locals from the tourists, gays from straights, and models from everyone else. It was interesting how a lot of the models looked. They looked like most people but only thinner and taller. I was shocked to see that most were not as pretty as they appeared in print or on the runway.

  After our lesson, the tourists began to quickly stand out. They all seemed to be overdressed for the city. Most wore matching outfits or clothing that they clearly had given a ton of thought to, while the locals seemed to have on get-up-and-go clothing, the kind you would wear at home on any day of the week. Except here in Miami, no matter what they wore, it was sure to be tiny and revealing.

  We found a wonderful place on Ocean Drive for lunch. The guys told us what parts of the city to avoid and where to go for entertainment and food. The conversation was light and without any particular purpose. Murphy and I were pleasantly surprised but happy they weren’t trying to hit on us or pick us up. During lunch, we shared with them that we had traveled, unplanned, to watch a concert - a concert that offered more fun and adventure than we could have imagined. We told them we were low on money and thinking of going to Orlando to stay with a relative. Before we could finish, Tim interrupted.

  “I have a friend with a condo over on the beach. Would you girls like to stay there for a night? You’re more than welcome.”

  Of course, we gladly agreed.

  “Are you sure, Tim? We really wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Believe me. This is not a problem.”

  “Hmph. Whose place is it? And don’t go thinking we’re some kind of freaks because we’re not. Don’t make us call Phillip,” Murphy sarcastically replied.

  I looked at Murphy, shocked by her response. I had still not provided her any information about him. She must have read my mind and saw the confusion on my face. With a wink from her, I knew to just go along.

  “He’s my business partner, and I, for one, don’t think y’all are freaks,” Tim tried to assure us. “I know what freaks look like. He lives in Palm Beach and bought the place as an investment. He got tired of driving back to Palm Beach when he was here, partying in Miami.”

  “Like I said, we are not no freaks!” Murphy poked out her lips.

  We all laughed.

  He made a phone call, and we were on our way, following Tim and Roderick in their car to spend a beautiful night in a condo in Miami Beach. Free of charge. Once we arrived, we had the concierge escort us up to the room just to be safe. Tim assured us that everything was legit and there would be no funny business. They had no ulterior motives. Once we felt secure in our room, Tim and Roderick told us that they would return in the morning to take us to breakfast.

  The following morning, Murphy and I sat on the balcony in disbelief at how things were going. We laughed thinking no one would ever believe any of it. What great luck!

  At breakfast, Roderick and Tim continued their hospitality. Roderick explained that he was from Nashville. He said he had lost his mother and grandmother within the year and moved to Miami to be close to his best friend because he needed a break. Tim owned a business making gold teeth--mostly for rappers. The two men were completely different in every way, but they said they had formed a brotherhood at Tennessee State.

  Back in the condo, I stared at the ocean from the balcony. We had come back up so Murphy and I could change our clothes. My mind drifted to Chase and what he was doing. I thought of calling him but scratched that idea rather quickly. I wondered why life could not be this peaceful always. What was preventing me from living in a high rise overlooking the ocean, not having a care in the world? How much work did it take to get there? I glanced up to find Tim standing at the doorway looking at me.

  “You look like you were having a moment. I didn’t mean to interrupt it.”

  “Um, I was. This view is absolutely beautiful.”

  “Yea, I know. I come here to get away from it all, to clear my mind and think about what I need to do next.”

  “Can I ask you something? What made you stop and speak to me and why are you being so sweet?”

  “You mean you really don’t know?” Tim looked shocked at the question.

  Shrugging my shoulders. “Not a clue!”

  He sat down and pointed toward me.

  “You’re necklace. It’s what ma
de me stop.”

  “My necklace. What does it have to do with anything?”

  “It’s not just the necklace. It’s the charm that you wear. You’re an AKA!”

  “Skee Wee,” I held up my pinky finger as I said our sorority call.

  “When I was pledging at Tennessee State, if I did not learn anything else, I learned to take care of my sorority sisters. They constantly pounded that into us in the mornings, afternoons, and evenings. Take care of your sisters. It was preached almost as much as brotherhood.”

  “You mean to tell me you’re my brother? You’re an Alpha?”

  “That’s right. I’m an Alpha.”

  “Wow. This is crazy. I pledged earlier in the year.”

  “Basically, it’s imperative to make sure you thrive while you’re in my presence. The thought of just leaving you in a time of need simply wouldn’t sit well with me, sis.”

  ‘Thank you so much. I’m—we’re very grateful.”

  It should not have come as a surprise that he was an Alpha. His impeccable manners and behavior toward me showed me he was different. A guy who was not just after a date, a pickup, a party. Tim was my brother in Greekdom. He told me that he had an obligation to take care of me. People often say that historically black colleges and universities are special places. All I know is Tim’s generosity was developed and learned at an HBCU.

  I was blown away by his words and began to cry. I could not thank him enough that morning.

  Before we left for Orlando, they filled up the Corvette, and checked the tire pressure and fluids. They even gave us travelling money. We never made it to the Versace mansion, but entering the on-ramp of I-95 north, Murphy and I had the biggest smiles you could imagine.

  I think Murphy kept repeating, “I’m pledging all the way to Stuart, Florida.”

  The first thing I did when we arrived at my godsister’s house was call Tim. As soon as he picked up the phone, I shouted, “Thank you, Tim. We made it safely.” Murphy also screamed thank you in the background. I told him we intended to stay with my godsister before continuing on to Little Rock. We made plans to stay in touch and to visit him once he returned to Nashville.

  Although our visit was unannounced, Sonya welcomed us. Sonya was a few years older than me and her sister, Lynn. Lynn and I became friends in 1986. We developed our friendship at church, and once my mother died, her parents became my godparents.

  Sonya told us she had a guest coming over, a promoter from New Jersey. It was during the time of Def Comedy Jam, so promoters were going all over the country trying to cash in on the explosion of young comics. She offered us tickets to the show, but we declined. Murphy and I were exhausted from the drive. All we wanted was sleep. Besides, we did not want any more surprises. We had concluded that we had pressed our luck the entire trip. All we wanted to do was shower and go to bed.

  We were awakened early the next morning to the sound of screaming and yelling coming from the kitchen. We lay in the bed motionless with the comforter pulled up to our noses listening to the argument.

  I contemplated going to see what was going on, but I was too afraid, so I just lay there. We did not know what to think. The promoter seemed to be mad. He was screaming and cursing. Things were escalating to the point we thought that they were going to fight. We were scared.

  Sonya hurriedly came into our room to tell us that he was angry because some of his money was missing. I looked at Murphy and threw my hands in the air.

  “Sonya, why is he yelling at you?”

  Putting her finger up to her lips, she whispered, “Shut the hell up. I have the money. This asshole wants me to undress to see if I have the money.” Reaching between her huge breasts, Sonya pulled out a big ass wad of money. She handed the money over to me and whispered.

  “This is what we are going to do. Get y’all asses dressed and meet me at Publix in thirty minutes. I will give you a cut and don’t say a word when you leave this room.”

  Sonya turned and exited the room, returning to her yelling. I assumed she was thinking, “Let me get these chicks out of my house, then we can finish.”

  Murphy and I quickly dressed and got the hell out of there. Sonya was standing in the living room in nothing but her bra and panties.

  “I told you I didn’t have your money.” I could hear her say as I closed the front door.

  As soon as we stepped out of the house, we were relieved to be removed from the situation, but Sonya had placed us right in the middle of it. We immediately counted the money once we parked. Forty-eight hundred dollars! The thought instantly came to my mind, as I put all the facts together. No wonder that promoter was so angry. I knew that Sonya would never give us more than one hundred dollars being the cute little hustler from Jersey that she was. I also knew she hadn’t counted the money.

  I told Murphy that we should take twenty-five hundred out of it, give her the balance and tell her that was all she gave us. Sonya would never think that I would know how to beat her at her game. As a matter of fact, it was not the kind of thought I would have normally had. But it came to mind very quickly after I thought about all the times she had blackmailed and gotten over on me and Lynn.

  When we met up with Sonya, I gave her the money and she raised her eyebrows in surprise; she obviously thought that there was more money than that.

  ‘‘Sonya, that’s all of it. That’s all you gave us.’’

  But she knew the wad she gave us was larger. She was mad as hell. She unfolded the cash and counted out two hundred dollars and gave it to us, then put the remaining cash in her purse. Slipping into her car, she looked at us and smirked.

  “I know you pretty bitches got me.” Then she sped off.

  We got into the car giddy with excitement and started to scream. We had been so lucky! We could not believe all we had been through. It had been a crazy six days. We toured with a band, stayed in a condo on Miami Beach and then took twenty-seven hundred dollars home. It felt like we had won a lottery. With our sudden influx of cash there was no need to get the advance from one of my inherited businesses. The drive back to Arkansas had never been so nice.

  Once we arrived in Little Rock, we decided to deposit the money into our respective bank accounts. The idea of having twenty-seven hundred dollars in cash at the house was not a good one. Murphy exited the bank in full laughter.

  “What is so funny?”

  “She put money in my account! My mother put two-hundred fifty dollars in my account the very same morning I told her we were in Miami.”

  “You mean to say we went through that thinking we didn’t have money? I don’t believe you.”

  Murphy held up a statement. “Here’s the proof, oh ye of little faith!”

  PARTY, PARTY, PARTY

  My mother had the habit of praying for me. She had tremendous faith. It was a faith she had perfected every Sunday for hours on end in that little, hot sanctified church. The congregation only consisted of about fifteen people. They waved their fans and shook their tambourines waiting on the presence of the Lord. I remember sitting there as a child bored out my mind. I remember, in the middle of what seemed like chaos and noise, my mother smiling at me and whispering, “Kennedy, the Lord has ordained your life. He has great blessings for you.” Even though I hated those long boring Sundays as a child, I now missed them and my mother.

  ____

  But this is something I’d told Greyson long ago. He already knew that part of my history. My walk down memory lane was interrupted by the doorbell. The hair and makeup team had arrived, which meant it was four o’clock. They shuffled into the living room with all their equipment before I escorted them to my master bathroom.

  *

  Murphy and I had taken week off from school to stay “on tour” with the band. We had the craziest encounters along the way, most of them being lessons that could not be taught in a book. All of it was worth it for the experiences we shared.

  After returning from our trip, Murphy and I rented a four-bedroom house. Our fri
end, Leonard, rented a room from us, and since my line sisters, Jamie and Lori, were always over visiting, they decided to just share the fourth bedroom.

  Leonard was from Toronto. To this day, I have no clue how or why he was living in Little Rock; he did not go to any of the colleges and looking at him you just knew he wasn’t from there. He spoke several languages and always talked about things none of us had a clue about.

  We met Leonard at a trendy downtown restaurant one evening after a basketball game. He worked as a server. We had an enjoyable conversation with him while he waited on us and we gave him a bit of a good-natured hard time because we smelled weed on him. The three of us laughed so much that it must have taken thirty minutes just to take our order.

  We even bought a puppy for our new home, a black Chow with a grey nose that we named Cornell. We gave him the name after Dr. Cornel West because we thought his big fluffy mane and grey nose reminded us of the political activist.

  Our house was the best around. We always had parties that were loud and late, so I’m sure our neighbors hated us for that.

  For months, we planned an over-the-top party for my twenty-second birthday. Leonard made an incredible breakfast for the four of us that morning. We loved having him as a roommate because he prepared meals for us every day (promising to give us his secret) and we never had to do laundry. These were life skills I never learned as a child—or yet as an adult--so this was great for me.

  Our house was like a black version of Three’s Company plus two. Besides, I’m sure he loved seeing four beautiful college girls: three of them constantly walking around in their bras and panties. Jamie was ultra-casual and lived in pajamas and sweatpants, but she had a conservative streak and could never bring herself to walk around in her underwear. We thought of Leonard as a brother. Besides, he was big into white girls at the time. Plus, he always paid his rent on time.

  The guests all arrived with gifts and the right attitude to make the perfect party.

  The thirty carefully selected guests were chosen because I knew they would not mind if the party were to get out of hand, which we had every intention of making happen.