Dr. West
A
violent clap of thunder jolted me awake. My bedroom was dark and blurry. I
reached over to my nightstand and grabbed my glasses. A soft moan beside me
made me look over. Tanina was back. The pink lace bra and panty set she had on
did nothing to bring out her pale skin. She’d shown up out of the blue. Said
she was in Atlanta on last-minute business. Called me and asked if I had time
for dinner.
I
didn’t, but I did. I needed to talk to her. Needed to end this thing we had
going on. To her, it was leading somewhere. To me, it was just something to do.
There was no need for me to lead her on any further. That had been the plan
until we’d gotten back to my place, and that wouldn’t have happened if she
hadn’t gotten too drunk to drive back to her hotel. She stripped out of her
clothes and danced around my front room. She’d tried her hardest to seduce me,
but I wasn’t with it. It was time to move on.
I’d
left her in my front room on the sofa. After I’d fallen asleep, she must have
found her way in bed beside me.
I
shook my head as I stood then headed to the bathroom to see a man about a
horse. Once done, I washed my hands. I walked out the bathroom to find Tanina
had awakened. She was sitting up in my bed, rubbing her forehead with a frown
on her face.
“What
time is it?” she asked when she looked over and saw me.
“Three-thirty
in the morning,” I responded.
She
sighed then stood. She looked around confused for a moment as if she couldn’t
remember where she was and how she’d gotten here.
“I
drank entirely too much,” she said, barely above a whisper.
I
didn’t respond as I pulled my shirt on. She sauntered over, more like staggered
over, and then tried to kiss me. She tried to cup both sides of my face with
her hands, but I grabbed both her wrists before she could. She looked up at me.
Her quizzical gaze said she was somewhere between offended and confused.
“So,
I can’t kiss you now?” she asked.
I
shook my head and moved her back a few paces. “We need to talk, Tanina,” I
said.
She
yanked her wrists out my hand, stepped back defensively and then folded her
arms. “About what?”
“Us,”
I said.
I
could have sworn her cat-like gray eyes turned to slits. “What about us?”
I’d
never been a man to mince words. So I gave it to her straight. “This thing
we’re doing, it has to stop. You want one thing and I want another. Getting
into another relationship right now isn’t something I want to do.”
She
was silent for a moment as she gawked up at me. Her face turned a ruddy
undertone and her eyes watered. I wasn’t sure if that was from the alcohol or
if it was because of what I’d just said to her. Without a word, she turned and
headed to my bathroom. I was left standing there trying to figure out why she
didn’t respond. I’d expected some kind of emotion, some kind of rebuttal.
But
for all of five minutes, Tanina remained in the bathroom. I heard her use the
toilet. I heard when the water came on and I assumed she was washing her hands.
As a violent flash of lightning ripped across the sky, the bathroom door
opened, and she walked out.
She
paced the floor in front of my bed before she looked over at me.
“You
didn’t know that before you let this go on for a year or so, Roger? So you led
me on all this time?” she asked.
“Led
you on? No. I told you from the beginning—”
“No,
what you said was we should just let the chips fall where they may and let time
tell the tale. If you knew a relationship was never going to come of this, then
why keep it going for this long?”
“I
can’t answer that at the moment… Wait, I could, but I don’t think you’d like
the answer,” I said.
“Try
me,” she demanded.
I
inhaled before speaking. “Over time, what we had became convenient. You became
familiar and I just rolled with it. I thought we had an understanding until
your language and behavior took a turn I wasn’t ready for. What I should have
done is told you long before now—”
Tanina
interrupted me. “Did you feel this way the last time I was here? The last time
we had sex?” she asked.
I
answered honestly. “Yes, Tanina. Nothing changed for me from the moment we met,
until now.”
She
shook her head as she bit down on her bottom lip. “So all those dates, all the
laughs, all the sex, all the pillow-talk meant nothing to you?” she asked.
“Not
in the same vein that it may have meant to you…”
She
gasped, and her hand flew to her neck as if my words had physically assaulted
her. She stopped pacing the floor. For a long while she stood there and stared
at me. I didn’t know how to feel. I was numb in a sense. After what my ex had
done to me, it was hard to put my trust in any woman. That was why I’d told
Tanina up front, not to expect a relationship from me. I’d asked her not to
expect anything more than what I gave her. In essence, I’d given Tanina the
best that I could offer.
I
didn’t want to come off cold and heartless, but I knew that in this moment and
in Tanina’s version of things, I’d be the bad guy. I didn’t know if I was okay
with that, but there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t let what we
were doing go on any further; lest she be hurt even more.
Tanina
stormed from my room. I knew she was probably going to retrieve her clothing. I
gave her a bit of space. I heard her moving around. Her sniffles were the only
thing that could be heard throughout my condo minus the hard pour of rain outside.
I assumed she had started crying. After a few minutes, I heard her on the phone
with a cab service.
When
she was done, she walked back in my room, fully dressed in the black skirt and
cream blouse she had been wearing.
“One
day, you’re going to know what it feels like to love a person who doesn’t love
you. One day, this will all come back to you.
To lead me to believe that what we were doing would lead to something
more when you knew it wouldn’t is...” Tanina stopped talking and bit her bottom
lip while looking around as if she was searching for the right words. “It’s
cruel, Roger, and one day, you’ll get it. You’re so fucking cold and heartless.
You don’t feel anything. Even when we’re having sex, yes, it feels good, but
that seems to be all you feel and nothing more.”
I
didn’t know what she wanted me to say or if she expected me to say anything at
all. She tsked like she was disgusted and walked back to the front room. A few
minutes later, she was gone, and I was left to my thoughts…and my demons.
My
dreams haunted me once I called it a night again. As always, my mother was the
victim. My father was the assailant, and I was the bystander. I sat up and
gazed at the clock. Only an hour had passed since Tanina left.
I
thought about my father. Thought about the man whom I looked identical to, who
beat my mother because he could. If anything had gone wrong during the day, he
found a way to make it my mother’s fault. I’d been ten-years-old when I first
saw my father hit my mother. Lionell and Ron, my two older brothers, had told
me about it, but I’d never seen it until that day…
I’d
just gotten home from school. I had been excited because my big brothers had
picked me up from school and all my friends had seen it. Things like that were
a big deal to kids like me back in the day who had older, popular siblings. I hopped
out my oldest brother’s truck, ran through the courtyard, and rushed up the
stairs to the front door. I turned the knob to see it hadn’t been locked and
burst through the front double doors.
Mama
had warned me about running through the house plenty, but my ten-year-old self
couldn’t seem to help it. I ran into the sitting room to see my father standing
over her. The panic-stricken horror written across my mother’s face would
forever be etched in my memory. She was already on the floor, one hand thrown
up to shield her face and the other behind her, propping her up.
My
father’s fist landed against my mother’s face so swiftly, it was almost as if I
hadn’t seen it at all. But that wasn’t what had shaken me to the core. No, it
wasn’t how fast the hit had been… It was how hard my father had hit her. I saw
my mother’s face cave in just as his fist connected to it. He’d hit her so hard
I swore every bone in her face had cracked.
My
father was not a small man. He stood at six-foot-ten inches tall. My mother was
only five-seven. No bigger than one hundred thirty pounds, and she was well
toned. My father wouldn’t have had her any other way, and considering she had
pushed eleven, ten, and nine-pound babies out of her body, she looked damn
good.
My
mother fell backwards, the upper half of her body now obscured behind the sofa.
All I could see were her hands and feet as she tried to shield and defend
herself against my father any way she could.
At
ten-years-old, seeing and hearing my mother scream and beg my father to not hit
her anymore scarred me. I would never see my father the same. Up until then, he’d
been my hero. Up until then, it had been hard to understand why my brothers had
been so rebellious. I never understood why they were always in trouble because
they had to always give Dad a hard time. My whole world changed that day.
My
bookbag hit the floor with a loud thud. It was only then that my father
stopped, his hand frozen in midair as if someone had pressed pause on a movie. My
father’s eyes turned to me. I screamed for my mother. By now, my other brothers
had come running in. Later they would tell me I’d yelled for Dad to stop.
My
mother dragged herself further behind the sofa.
“Roger, baby go upstairs to your room, honey,”
she said.
Her
voice was shaking. She didn’t sound like herself. I wanted to see her. I needed
to see her. No way my father had hit her like that and she was okay. I heard my
brothers say something to Dad. I didn’t know what it was. I ran toward my
mother, only to have Dad demand I stop where I was.
“Roger,
Lionell and Ron go to your rooms…please…” she said again, her voice barely
above a whisper.
She
kept telling us to go to our room, but I wanted to see my mother. Wanted to see
if he had really hit her that hard. My father stopped me right before I got to
her. He made us all go upstairs. He was acting like he was nervous. He walked
me upstairs to my room and kept trying to explain to me what I saw. He was trying
to get me, his ten-year-old son to understand why he had no choice but to hit
my mother. I didn’t understand it then and as I got older, I still didn’t get
it.
From
that day forward, I resented my father. I heard my mother screaming at night
for him not to hit her again. Saw when he hit her another time. It had been so
hard she fell into the glass cabinet that held the liquor that she started
indulging herself in. She didn’t get up that time. All I remember was her going
away in an ambulance then coming back three days later.
By
the time it was all said and done, my father had beat all the life from my
mother. She stopped going out. Stopped all her work with different charities.
Stopped being as active in our schooling… slowly but surely, he killed her
spirit long before he killed her.
Ms.
Jones crossed my mind. As hard as I tried not to, I couldn’t help but remember
her working the stage at Magic City. She was one beautiful, well put together
young woman. All of her physical attributes mixed with her intellect made for
one hell of a treat. Any man with good sense would know what a gem she was.
I wondered
if she had stayed away from her abuser. I hoped she knew that her situation
could only lead down one road. I wondered if one time had been enough for her…
I
got my answer Monday morning. The class had known about the two-hour class
ahead of time. It was no different than every other Monday except this Monday
classes included a one-hour lecture and a one hour test right after. Ms. Jones
had always been punctual. She’d never been late to a lecture that included a test.
All my students knew tests were a huge percentage of their grades.
However,
I was ten minutes into my lecture when I noticed Ms. Jones frantically waving
her hand outside of my locked classroom door.
“Excuse
me,” I said to the rest of my class before walking to the door. I opened it and
stepped outside. “May I help you, Ms. Jones?”
She
looked disheveled. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her clothes looked worse for
wear.
“Please
Dr. West, I know I’m late, but you have no idea how hard I tried to get here on
time,” she said. “I had an emergency—”
“Ms.
Jones,” I said, stopping her. “You know my rules. I clearly stated them on the
syllabus at the beginning of the term. Once class starts, once my door is
closed, I don’t permit students in afterwards.”
“I
know, but—”
“No
exceptions.”
“Oh
my God,” she said, barely above a whisper. “But the test… I can’t…I need that
grade.” Her eyes watered as she looked up at me. “Please…”
Since
I’d started teaching at Clayton State, I’d never gone against my rules and let
a student in after I started class. It would have been unfair to the single
mothers I’d turned away and all the other students who may or may not have had
legitimate reasons for being late if I allowed Ms. Jones the privilege now. Now
matter how badly I wanted to…
“I’m
sorry, Ms. Jones. No exceptions,” I said.
“Fuck,”
she spat as she dropped down on the bench beside the wall.
She
shook her head as tears rolled down her face. I knew Ms. Jones was an overachiever,
but I suspected something more was at the helm of her breakdown at the moment.
I hated to leave her—I meant, I hated to leave any student in such distress,
but I’d already taken away from lecture time.
“Look,
I’m going to give three more tests in the upcoming weeks and of course midterms
are coming. If you pass all three with high marks and do well on the midterms,
you still have a chance of passing this class with a low A or high B, again,
depending on how well you do. Why don’t you focus on that and getting to class
on time? I wouldn’t miss anymore days if I were you either. Okay?”
I moved
toward her. She jumped back like I was about to attack her or something.
She
stood abruptly, nodded her head, but it was as if she wasn’t even there. I watched
her as she picked up her book bag up and walked slowly down the hallway.
Isis
The
last few days had been rough for me. I’d never been to jail a day before in my
life, and, after forty-eight hours inside of one, I never wanted to go back. Louis
really flexed his muscle. While my friends
had no trouble getting bonds, I had no such luck. I didn’t even want to think
about what being inside of that holding cell and then marched down a long
corridor that was built of concrete and painted gray had done to my mind. I
couldn’t even talk about it. I didn’t want to.
When
Monday morning rolled around, and I was finally released, I’d rushed right to
class, trying to make the quiz Dr. West had given to no avail. I smelled awful,
like something akin to wild onions and stinky dirt. When Dr. West tried to get
close to me, I backed away in fear he would smell me.
Louis
was ruining my life. No, you’re ruining
your own life over a nigga who clearly doesn’t want you. You didn’t have to go
to that man’s house, my mind screamed as I laid in bed.
I
was no longer lying to myself. Louis had left his mark on me and seeing him
with another woman had hurt. I still wondered how it was possible he had a
wife. Where had she been the whole year and some change that I’d been dating
him? How is it that his house had showed no signs of a child or woman?
Those
were my thoughts until my phone rang and jolted me back to the present. I
looked at the caller i.d. to see it was my mother. I was somewhere between
shocked and pleasantly surprised. I hadn’t heard from her in about two months. We
had been playing phone tag. She would call me when I wasn’t home or when I
couldn’t answer my cell. She would leave a message. I’d call her back only to
have her not answer so I would have to leave her a message. She must have
sensed something was wrong.
“Hey,
Mama,” I answered.
“Hello,
Baby Cakes. How you doing?” she asked, joy in her voice.
She’d
called me that since I was old enough to remember. I smiled, imagining her
sitting on the front porch of our old house while on the cordless phone. She
sounded to be in good spirits. More than I could say for myself.
“I’m
okay, Mama. How are you?”
“I’m
a bit tired. The hospital short on nurses again so I’m pulling double time.
Other than that though, your old girl is hanging in there. How school going,
baby?”
I
chuckled low and then stood up to walk around my room as I talked. “It’s going okay.”
“Hmm…
that don’t sound so convincing, Baby Cakes.”
“It’s
okay. I just missed a major test today and was trying to figure out how to make
up for it.”
“How’d
you do manage to do that, Isis?” she asked in her motherly tone of voice.
There
was no way I would tell my mother that I ended up in jail because some nigga
had made me lose my mind.
So,
I lied. “I overslept—”
“Overslept?”
she repeated like she couldn’t believe I would do such a thing. “Didn’t you
know you had a test today, Isis? How you oversleep? You can’t be doing no mess
like that, baby.”
I
sighed and shook my head. With the way she was reacting to me “oversleeping”, I
knew it was a good thing not to tell her about my stay in jail over the
weekend.
“Geesh,
Mama. Calm down,” I said.
“Child,
don’t tell me to calm down. First of all, respect me. You may be grown and away
in college but I’m still Mama. You got that?” she fussed.
“Yes,
ma’am.”
“Second
of all. You have plans, baby. You told me you were going to get out and stay
out of this town come hell or high water. Now I’m sorry my money ran low and I
ain’t been too good at supporting you financially as I should, but I’m going to
always be in your corner with any other support you need. You been doing good. Been
keeping ya grades up and such. We not going to be let no sleep get in the way
of your dreams and goals. You hear me?”
“Yes,
ma’am,” I said.
She
was about to say something else until someone interrupted her. I heard a male’s
voice in the background along with the squeaky screen door that my mother still
hadn’t fixed apparently.
“Foods
done,” I heard him say.
Whoever
he was, his voice was deep as ever with a husky undertone that made me quirk a
brow. There was a rustling noise like my mama was trying to cover the phone.
“I’ll
be there in a minute,” she said low as if she was trying to whisper. “Ah,
hello?” she said into the phone.
“Who is that?” I asked.
“Stop
being nosy. Back to you and this test. How is everything else in school? You
passing still?”
“Yeah
so far, so good,” I said.
I
heard that man again. “Are you talking to her?” he asked.
That
rustling noise sounded on the other end of the phone again. “Yes, and I already
know what you’re about to ask. The answer is no. Now please, go on back inside.
I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Mama
who is that?” I asked, this time more urgent that before.
“It’s
ah—It’s nobody, baby. Stop being so nosy. Mama can have a friend, can’t she?
Now you calm down.”
“Mama—”
“So
when are you coming home?” she asked, cutting me off.
“Mama?
Who—”
“Isis,
I don’t feel like discussing that at the moment and not over the phone, okay? Now
when are you coming home?”
I
was quiet a moment before answering. I wanted to know who that man was and why
he was asking about me. “The plan was to come home after graduation for about
two weeks, but do I need to get there sooner?”
“No.
No, nothing like that,” Mama said then laughed, although it sounded a bit off. “I
just wanted to know when to expect you is all.”
I
didn’t know what was going on with her, but something told me my mother wasn’t
being truthful with me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was off.
My mother and I talked for a few more minutes before she rushed me off the phone.
She said it was because she didn’t want her food to get cold, but I suspected
the man I’d heard in the background had something to do with it.
Copyright © 2005 by Nikki Michelle
All rights reserved
Singleton’s Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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