sorry to wake you up, but these dreams, man, damn, they mess me up so bad, I have to talk to somebody for a few minutes.”
He was searching for somebody on this earth that he could trust with the weight on his soul. And that was either me or Stephan, but Stephan didn’t take too kindly to middle-of-the-night phone calls from Jake. The talks about dreams left bed-hopping Stephan just as rattled.
Most of Jake’s anxiety crept back as he said, “There’s another part I ain’t told nobody about.”
“What?”
“This part scares me more than anything, because it makes it feel so real.”
“What part you talking about?”
“One of ‘em looked like my momma, another looked kinda like my daddy.”
Carefully I said, “Maybe you just miss your folks.”
His voice softened. “Fifteen, almost sixteen years. God bless ‘em. I miss ‘em all the damn time. Man, Momma
made the hell out of a pineapple cake. She made me one for every birthday. Made it from scratch.”
“I know that’s right.”
“Yeah. Miss ‘em all the time.”
Jake’s parents died in a fire at their house in L.A., off Crenshaw on Sixth Avenue, That was when he was fifteen. When he was tall and skinny. Before he buffed up. Bad wiring set their house ablaze. The bars on the window turned their home into a deathtrap. His daddy had barely saved him, dragged him out on the lawn, then he went back for his mother.
I said, “Your folks were good people.”
He chuckled out some sadness. “They had their problems.”
“Everybody does. I understand that better than anybody.”
“One girl that had me cornered, I swear she looked like she was Daddy and Momma put together. She had their features.”
I closed my eyes and pretended we were two old men resting on a wooden porch down somewhere where peace came to roost, imagined that off-and-on click on the phone line was the sound of crickets chirping, talked to Jake for a while.
It sort of reminded me of the old days. Law school, marriage, and a ruling wife like Dawn, all of those things have made me unavailable for my friends for a long while. But whenever I was stressed, Jake was always a phone call away.
But I had to go to work in the morning, so I couldn’t stay up all night and baby-sit him. After he’d calmed down enough, I babble-babbled a few more minutes, then got ready to let him go.
I asked him, “What you going to do?”
“Call Pamela.”
I said, “You ain’t worried about Charlotte waking up?”
He chuckled. “She sleeps like a log. Don’t even wake up to go pee in the middle of the night. Pamela pees about ten times a night. That pisses me off because she wakes me up every time. But she likes to get some in the middle of the night. Then there’s Charlotte. Man, after Charlotte gets
to sleep, don’t even think about waking her up to make love.”
“Maybe you should try. Kiss her neck.”
“It wouldn’t be worth it. It takes her too long to get off. I just don’t feel like working that damn hard. Pamela don’t take but a hot minute. If I’d have known that Charlotte was gonna sleep the whole time, I would’ve gone by Pamela’s tonight.”
We talked about five more minutes.
When I pulled the covers back to crawl into my bed, Dawn said, “Tell Jake not to call here this late anymore.”
“He was having some problems.”
She repeated what she’d just said.
9 Chanté
Thaiheed is cute, heading toward handsome. He has an oval-shaped head, keen gray eyes. Hypnotic eyes. Conservative haircut, thin mustache. Stands about five foot eight, so he’s barely taller than I am, meaning I have to wear flats when we go out. Nice runner’s build. Doesn’t eat pork. Spiritual.
The brother knows how to treat a woman. He took me to lunch three times in a week. When the weekend rolled around, he called and told me that he was going to the Shark Bar in Los Angeles. So me and my girls—Tammy and Karen—wanted to get out of the Pomona valley, and we went up there to hang
He was searching for somebody on this earth that he could trust with the weight on his soul. And that was either me or Stephan, but Stephan didn’t take too kindly to middle-of-the-night phone calls from Jake. The talks about dreams left bed-hopping Stephan just as rattled.
Most of Jake’s anxiety crept back as he said, “There’s another part I ain’t told nobody about.”
“What?”
“This part scares me more than anything, because it makes it feel so real.”
“What part you talking about?”
“One of ‘em looked like my momma, another looked kinda like my daddy.”
Carefully I said, “Maybe you just miss your folks.”
His voice softened. “Fifteen, almost sixteen years. God bless ‘em. I miss ‘em all the damn time. Man, Momma
made the hell out of a pineapple cake. She made me one for every birthday. Made it from scratch.”
“I know that’s right.”
“Yeah. Miss ‘em all the time.”
Jake’s parents died in a fire at their house in L.A., off Crenshaw on Sixth Avenue, That was when he was fifteen. When he was tall and skinny. Before he buffed up. Bad wiring set their house ablaze. The bars on the window turned their home into a deathtrap. His daddy had barely saved him, dragged him out on the lawn, then he went back for his mother.
I said, “Your folks were good people.”
He chuckled out some sadness. “They had their problems.”
“Everybody does. I understand that better than anybody.”
“One girl that had me cornered, I swear she looked like she was Daddy and Momma put together. She had their features.”
I closed my eyes and pretended we were two old men resting on a wooden porch down somewhere where peace came to roost, imagined that off-and-on click on the phone line was the sound of crickets chirping, talked to Jake for a while.
It sort of reminded me of the old days. Law school, marriage, and a ruling wife like Dawn, all of those things have made me unavailable for my friends for a long while. But whenever I was stressed, Jake was always a phone call away.
But I had to go to work in the morning, so I couldn’t stay up all night and baby-sit him. After he’d calmed down enough, I babble-babbled a few more minutes, then got ready to let him go.
I asked him, “What you going to do?”
“Call Pamela.”
I said, “You ain’t worried about Charlotte waking up?”
He chuckled. “She sleeps like a log. Don’t even wake up to go pee in the middle of the night. Pamela pees about ten times a night. That pisses me off because she wakes me up every time. But she likes to get some in the middle of the night. Then there’s Charlotte. Man, after Charlotte gets
to sleep, don’t even think about waking her up to make love.”
“Maybe you should try. Kiss her neck.”
“It wouldn’t be worth it. It takes her too long to get off. I just don’t feel like working that damn hard. Pamela don’t take but a hot minute. If I’d have known that Charlotte was gonna sleep the whole time, I would’ve gone by Pamela’s tonight.”
We talked about five more minutes.
When I pulled the covers back to crawl into my bed, Dawn said, “Tell Jake not to call here this late anymore.”
“He was having some problems.”
She repeated what she’d just said.
9 Chanté
Thaiheed is cute, heading toward handsome. He has an oval-shaped head, keen gray eyes. Hypnotic eyes. Conservative haircut, thin mustache. Stands about five foot eight, so he’s barely taller than I am, meaning I have to wear flats when we go out. Nice runner’s build. Doesn’t eat pork. Spiritual.
The brother knows how to treat a woman. He took me to lunch three times in a week. When the weekend rolled around, he called and told me that he was going to the Shark Bar in Los Angeles. So me and my girls—Tammy and Karen—wanted to get out of the Pomona valley, and we went up there to hang
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