Black Viper

by Christopher Speight

  Frank got up from the table and left his two bickering children sitting there. Although he would never admit it to them, he loved to see his kids competing with each other. Whether it be in cards, boardgames, or talking about how successful they would be when they became adults, they were always trying to outdo each other. Frank felt that it brought out the best in them so instead of discouraging it, he encouraged it.

  Ten minutes after leaving their house, Frank was dropping his kids off at school. He gave each of them five dollars apiece for lunch money and sent them on their way. He watched closely as they walked up the sidewalk and made their way toward the school’s entrance. When they were halfway there, he pulled off.

  From the time they got out of their father’s car, Frank Jr. and Rhonda both remained quiet. They continued to do so until they got to Rhonda’s locker. Neither of them cared for their father’s demand that Frank Jr. walk his sister to her locker every day. But Frank Sr. wanted to make sure that Rhonda was going to be protected, so he gave his son the task of escorting her to her locker daily.

  “Rhonda, what is your problem?”

  “Frank, what are you talking about?”

  “You’ve been acting crappy ever since yesterday. Did I do something to you?”

  “You’re imagining things, big brother.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Frank Jr. thought back to the day before and it suddenly dawned on him exactly when his sister started acting like a jerk.

  “Ooooh, now I know what it is. For some reason, you’re mad because I went to the movies with Kisha. What have you got against her?”

  “I just don’t like her, bro.”

  “Why?”

  “I just don’t. Do I have to have a reason? Dang!”

  “Uh, yeah, you kinda do.”

  “Well, I don’t.”

  “Bull crap! No one dislikes someone for no reason at all. There has to be a reason.”

  Rhonda took a deep breath and slammed her locker shut. With fire in her eyes, she turned to face her brother. “Okay, I do have a reason. I’m just not going to tell you,” she said and stormed off.

  All Frank Jr. could do was stand there and shake his head. By arguing with his sister, he’d cut down the time he had left to get to his homeroom. As he turned to leave, he spotted Harold and a couple of his friends walking on the opposite side of the hallway. The two of them eyed each other. Harold cupped his hand and whispered into one of his friend’s ear. The friend responded by slamming his fist into his palm a couple of times. The gesture caused Frank Jr. to burst into laughter.

  “What’s so funny, punk?”

  “You and that clown you’re walking with.”

  “Oh, I see you want some smoke, huh?” Harold said.

  Every kid in the hallway stopped as he started a slow walk toward Frank Jr.

  “You ain’t said nothing but a word.” Frank took off his backpack and was about to lay it on the floor.

  “I’ll hold that for you, man,” someone standing behind Frank said. When Frank turned to look, the right corner of his lip twisted into a smile. Reaching for his bag was his best friend Wallace. Other than Rhonda, Wallace was the only person in the entire school that knew Frank was taking boxing lessons. This fight was going to be a mismatch, and he was the only one, aside from Frank Jr. himself, who knew it.

  “Looks like I arrived just in time. Now it can be a fair one,” Wallace said when he saw Harold’s friend.

  “Hey, you ain’t got nothing to do with this, man,” Harold said.

  “Neither does your boy, but from the look on his face, he can’t wait to get involved. That two on one stuff ain’t happening. If they throw down, it’s going to be a fair fight.”

  “Man, please! I don’t need nobody to put the beatdown on this chump,” Harold bragged.

  “Let’s do this then, fool! Don’t talk me to death!”

  Frank Jr. knew that he would have to face his father’s wrath if he got suspended. He also knew that his father wouldn’t be happy if he backed down. Frank Sr. had always told him not to start a fight, but never back down from one. A half second after the two of them threw up their hands, the assistant principal made his way through the crowd.

  “Hey, what’s going on here? Does someone want to get suspended today?”

  Frank Jr. and Harold dropped their hands and walked away from each other, but they continued to eye each other until they were no longer visible to each other.

  18

  Because they had to hurry and get to their respective homerooms, Frank Jr. didn’t have time to explain to his buddy why he and Harold were about to throw down. But now that they were in gym class, Wallace was putting pressure on him to reveal what was going on.

  “Man, what was all that about?”

  “Man, that clown was just salty because he saw me at the movies with Kisha. You know they went out a couple of times.”

  “Wait. . .What? Man, you didn’t tell me you had a date with fine ass Kisha.”

  “I hadn’t seen you yet. I didn’t want to talk about it on the phone, so I figured that I would tell you in school today.”

  “Damn, man. How in the hell did you pull that off?”

  “Man, she came after me.”

  “What? Man, get the hell outta here.”

  “Nah, for real, man, I ain’t lying. She slipped me her number in English class and asked me to call her.”

  “Man, you lucky! Kisha is the finest broad in this school!”

  “I know, right?”

  “Stone! Grant! Get up and join the group! It’s time to run the mile!” the gym teacher, Maurice Howard yelled out. He was also the track coach and was always on the lookout for a potential track star in one of his classes. Frank Jr. knew this, and because he absolutely hated running, he always did less than his best for fear of being recruited. In his opinion, he ran enough while learning how to box. Eight laps around the track equaled one mile. Frank Jr. purposely slowed up the last two laps. He didn’t want to take the chance that his gym teacher was going to pester him about joining the track team. Thinking that his ploy had worked, Frank Jr. headed for the locker room after class. His lunch period was next, and he couldn’t wait. Running that mile had built up his appetite. Just before he walked through the locker room doors, his gym teacher called out to him.

  “Hey, Stone, come here for a second!”

  Frank Jr. and Wallace frowned as they headed back toward Mr. Howard.

  “What the hell does he want?” Wallace mumbled. As soon as they were within normal talking range, Howard addressed both young men.

  “Grant, why are you here? I didn’t call you. I called Stone.”

  “Oh, my bad. Peace out dawg. I’ll see you at lunch.” Wallace quickly scampered away, grateful that he didn’t have to stand there and listen to his gym teacher.

  “What’s going on, Mr. Howard?”

  “Stone, how long are we going to play this little game?”

  “Huh? What are you talking about, sir?”

  “I’m talking about you slowing up on purpose with two laps left to go in the mile.”

  Frank Jr.’s mouth fell open. He had no idea that his gym teacher was even paying attention to him, let alone figured out that he was slacking off.

  “Don’t look so surprised Stone. You think I just started teaching yesterday? You’re not the first person to get bad times in the mile because they don’t want to run track.”

  “I’m sorry Mr. Howard. I just don’t like running.”

  “How do you know? Have you ever run track before?”

  “No sir.”

  “Then how in the world do you know that you don’t like it?”

  “Mr. Howard, I just don’t like running far like that.”

  “Who said you had to run far? Son, track is more than running the mile. There’s the one-hundred-meter dash. The two-hundred-meter dash. The discus throw. The four-hundred-meter relay. It’s not just the mile run. You have several options to chose from.”
/>   Mr. Howard placed a gentle hand on Frank Jr.’s shoulder. “Just think about it, okay?”

  “Okay sir. I’ll think about it.”

  Mr. Howard smiled and walked away. As soon as he did, Frank Jr. hurried into the locker room to change back into his regular school clothes. Thanks to his gym teacher, his stomach had begun to rumble. He got dressed as fast as he could and ran out of the gym. On his way to the lunchroom, his cell phone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and checked the text message. Rage overcame him as he silently read Wallace’s message.

  Hey, man. You need to get here. This clown Harold just dumped a carton of milk on your sister’s head.

  19

  After dropping his kids off at school, Frank decided to call his partner and see if she wanted to get some breakfast before they went to work. The call went directly to her voicemail. Although he thought that was unusual, Frank just shrugged his shoulders and ended the call.

  “Oh well, I guess I’m going solo today,” he mumbled.

  Frank drove half a mile up the street and made a right into the parking lot of The Sidewalk Café. It was a small, cozy restaurant just off the freeway. Frank and Amber would occasionally meet there before their shifts and fill their bellies. It was their favorite place to get food before they went out into the world to fight crime. The thing Frank liked most about the place, however, was that they sold the kind of food that he would cook in his own kitchen. Grits, oatmeal, ham, biscuits, pancakes, and things of the like were all sold at The Sidewalk Café. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get that type of food anywhere else in the area. But at The Sidewalk Café, he could get them all in one place. He also liked their prompt service when he ordered food to go.

  As Frank entered the restaurant, he thought about ordering his food to go. The place was a little more crowded than it usually was, which made it louder. That, in itself, was enough to get on Frank’s nerves. He didn’t like a lot of excessive noise. Against his better judgment, he sat down at one of the tables. Two minutes later, a young, attractive waitress walked over to him and offered him a menu. Since he’d never seen her in the restaurant before, Frank assumed that she was a new employee.

  “Good morning. Do you need a menu?”

  “Nah, I know what I want.”

  It was an innocent enough statement, but the way it came out, combined with Frank’s baritone voice, made it sound sensual.

  “Is that right?” the waitress asked, lifting her right eyebrow.

  She was very attractive with honey-colored skin, a thin waist, chestnut eyes, and a very ample bosom. Her jet-black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The only flaw to be seen in her was a chipped upper front tooth, but her other attributes more than made up for her broken bicuspid.

  “Uh, yes,” Frank said, purposely twisting the wedding ring on his finger. He’d been around long enough to know when a female was flirting with him. Although he was a middle-aged man with two kids and a wife, his physical stature still made him desirable to most females. Frank was a shade over six foot one with a short Afro that carried a hint of gray on both sides. His muscular frame carried a weight of two hundred fifteen pounds. His thick mustache was always kept neatly trimmed. Before he could inform the waitress of his order, his cell phone vibrated. Frank raised his index finger, indicating to the waitress that he needed a second.

  “Hello?”

  “Yeah, it’s me,” Amber said.

  “You okay?” Frank asked. He thought he heard a quiver in her voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  It was fairly evident that something was bothering her, but Frank wasn’t about to pry.

  “Okay. Where are you?”

  “On my way to work. What’s up?”

  “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to stop at The Sidewalk Café before work.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Order for me. You know what I like.”

  Amber hung up and wiped her eyes. She was an emotional wreck. She knew that she had no business going to work, but in her line of employment, she had to keep her game face on at all times. Shortly after leaving Vicky’s the previous day, she’d received a call from her ex-husband.

  “Amber, we need to talk,” he said.

  Thinking that it was his sneaky way of trying to get into her pants, she blew him off. “Roger, I don’t have time to come over there for your BS. Whatever you want, tell me on the phone.”

  “No, I can’t. We need to talk about this face to face.”

  “Well, that’s just too bad. I’m tired, and I’m going home. Whatever you want is going to have to wait until tomorrow.”

  “Amber, it’s important.”

  “So is getting my damn rest. So, you can just–––”

  “Amber, it’s about our son,” he said, cutting her off.

  “What? What’s going on, Roger? Is there something wrong with my son?”

  “I had to take him to emergency earlier today.”

  “Emergency? What happened?”

  “His migraines returned,” Roger informed her.

  “What? I thought the doctor said he was cured from having them. And why in the hell didn’t you call me?”

  “First of all, I did call you! Your voicemail was full! I tried to call you again this morning when I took him to see his primary doctor and your voicemail was still full, so if you want to get mad at someone, then get mad at yourself,” he’d told her.

  Amber had tried to call her son, but he wasn’t picking up. She’d left him a message begging him to call her and it was killing her that he hadn’t.

  Ten minutes after hanging up from Frank, Amber pulled into the restaurant and parked. She made sure to wipe her tears away before getting out of the car. The last thing she wanted was for Frank to see her in an emotional state, and she definitely needed to get herself together before they got to work.

  Amber got out of the car and made her way into The Sidewalk Café. Her growling stomach reminded her that she hadn’t had anything to eat for the last sixteen hours. As soon as she entered the place, the intoxicating aroma of food seized her sense of smell. She walked over to where her partner was sitting, dropped into the chair, and quickly dug into her food.

  “Well good morning to you too,” Frank said when she didn’t speak.

  “Oh, I’m sorry partner. Good morning.”

  “Hungry?”

  “Starving. I haven’t had anything to eat since before we went to interview Victoria Baker yesterday.”

  “Wow. I guess you are hungry then,” Frank said, laughing.

  “Excuse me, sir. Would you like some more coffee?” the waitress asked.

  “Uh yes, thank you.”

  The waitress alternated her gaze between Frank and the coffee cup as she poured. While she was doing that, Amber’s eyes were locked on her. The waitress, however, never gave Amber a second look. As soon as she refilled Frank’s cup, she smiled at him before turning to walk away. When Amber looked back at Frank, she saw that he was busy looking at his cell phone. Shaking her head, she snorted out a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Frank asked her when he noticed her gaze.

  “The male species.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. You men are funny as hell.”

  “Amber, what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Can’t you tell when a woman is interested in you? That heifer was flirting with you.”

  “Wow. You think so?” he said sarcastically.

  Immediately, Amber picked up on his tone.

  “Don’t be a smart ass, Frank.”

  Now it was Frank’s turn to laugh. “I’m not being a smart ass, but don’t you think I know that? I wasn’t born yesterday, Amber. I definitely know when a woman is flirting with me.”

  “Oh, okay. I mean, you didn’t react to her.”

  “That’s because I’m not interested in her. Did you forget that I was still married?”

  “Not at all.”

  An a
wkward silence hung in the air before either of them said anything else. Although they were partners, they rarely discussed Frank’s marital situation. Amber knew that it was still very painful for Frank to talk about the accident that left his wife in a coma, but she did wonder if Marilyn was progressing.

  “How is she?”

  “About the same.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Me too. So have you thought anymore about the case?” Frank asked, purposely changing the subject.

  “Actually, I do have another theory about the murder. What if Wendy is the guilty party?”

  Frank gave Amber a strange look.

  “Hear me out,” she said, seeing his expression. “Wendy not only works for Victoria, but the women also seem to be pretty good friends. And what do female friends talk about the most? Men! What if Victoria had a habit of bragging about how wonderful her man was, and Wendy got curious. Maybe Victoria bragged to her about how good he was in the sack and Wendy decided to find out for herself.”

  “What? You mean to tell me that you women actually sit around and talk about how good men are in the sack?”

  “You mean to tell me that you didn’t know that?” Amber said, twisting the right side of her lip.

  “Of course I did. I’m just being funny because most women say they don’t do that.”

  “Well, they’re lying. Anyway, after hearing about how good her friend’s man is in the sack, Wendy puts the pressure on him to give her a roll in the hay. He sees this as an opportunity to screw his girlfriend’s best friend. What man can turn that down, right?”

  Amber paused for a few seconds. Purely out of curiosity, she wanted to see how Frank felt about such a thing. When Frank didn’t respond, she continued.

  “So, Wendy and the boyfriend agree to meet a few times to scratch their itch. But then something happens that Wendy never expected. Her feelings get involved and she falls in love with him, but he doesn’t feel the same way. What started out to both of them as having a little fun changed when her feelings for him did, but she can’t bear to watch another woman, especially her best friend, have the man she wants. And remember, she would have to sit back for the rest of her life and stew over the fact that her best friend is screwing a man she wants on a nightly basis. What do you think?”