Chameleon (13 page)

Lorenzo darted away. Me and Trent followed. Andre stayed, covering his mouth to keep from laughing. He almost fell into the room when the door flew open. His brother stepped out with a sheet wrapped around his waist.

“Boyyy!
What did I say?”

Andre hopped up, grabbed his ball, and ran out the door. “Let’s go!”

Me and Trent swiveled our heads and followed. Lorenzo hustled out of the kitchen, then out of the house, slamming the door behind him. His right hand clutched a sandwich as he raced after us.

“Ayyy . . . wait up!” he shouted between lip smacks.

We booked it up the block until we hit the corner where this whole thing started in the first place and broke into laughter that echoed throughout the neighborhood and probably all the way back to Andre’s brother’s ears.

“Man, can you believe that? Andre, your brother was doing his
thing
!” Lorenzo said with bright white mayo on the corner of his mouth. A collection of crumbs flew out as he spoke. Ugh — nasty.

“Dang, Lorenzo! Say it, don’t spray it. I want the news, not the weather!” Trent said.

“You got some mayo right here,” I said to Lorenzo, motioning to my face.

“Your brother don’t waste no time, huh, ’Dre?” Trent said.

The chorus of laughter died down until Lorenzo replayed the sounds behind the door: “Yeah, yeah!” He grabbed and clawed at his shirt like a girl trying to rip it off him.

Andre joined in, unable to contain himself:
“Oooooooooooooohhh, yes-yes-yes!”

Trent jumped in last but not least: “Oh, God!”

Lorenzo: “Yeah!”

Andre:
“Ooooooohhhhhh, yes-yes-yes!”

Trent: “Oh, God!”

“Yeah!”

“Oooooohhhhhh, yes-yes-yes!”

“Oh, God!”

“Yeah!”

“Oooooohhhhhh, yes-yes-yes!”

“Oh, God!”

“Oh, baby. Oh, baby . . .”

“Will you guys calm down? People gonna think we freaks or something if y’all don’t stop,” I said.

We were still outside for all the world to see. And hear.

That was the first time I’d ever heard . . . those sounds. I knew what they were doing, but I had to fill in the details with my imagination because I’ve never actually seen it myself. That didn’t keep me from laughing, though. It was still a funny thing to witness, even if it was only with our ears.

“You could learn a few things from your brother, ’Dre,” Lorenzo said, calm now.

“You know we gotta stop back in after the movies to check on him. There might be a sequel,” Trent said.

Andre slapped Trent on his arm.

“Now
that
was better than Bruce, right?” he said with a big smile.

“Oh, man!” Trent said, wiping the sea of tears from his eyes as he gathered himself and the ball.

We bounced back on our path, Trent leading the way. Each bounce of the ball was punctuated by the sounds of ecstasy repeated from what we’d heard behind closed doors. Lorenzo played the role of the headboard banging against the wall. Trent did his best to imitate a girl’s high-pitched voice saying “Oh, God” or “Yeah” in between headboard bumps. And Andre accented it all with sharp stabs of
“Yes-yes-yes!”

All eyes turned on us as we turned onto the main boulevard. The presence of others had no effect on the sounds coming out of the fellas’ mouths. Either their voices grew tired or they got tired of all the stares, because after a few strides, they quieted themselves. Trent fell back toward me, and Lorenzo approached Andre.

“So, your brother teach you anything to help you hook up?” he asked, slinging a mitt over ’Dre’s shoulder.

Andre shook his head. “Awww . . . you know. He’s always been a ladies’ man, so I picked up a few things here and there. I remember back when he was in high school playing ball, he had girls calling the house all the time. I don’t remember their names, but I remember their voices. Some were high, some low. All of them sweet. I asked how many he had, and he said he didn’t know and didn’t care. He said they all wanted him, so he went out with all of them.”

“You sure that’s all he did? Go out?” Lorenzo asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but my mom was pretty strict. He had to be home by a certain time, and he could only go certain places. He might’ve done it, but he never told me anything about it if he did.”

Andre turned back toward me and Trent, stole the ball from Trent, and dribbled between his legs.

Lorenzo slowed his stroll. “Maybe he’s playing catch-up for back when he was in high school,” he said to no one in particular.

“Nah, probably because he was at sea for so long. I couldn’t be on a ship that long. And with no girls — shoot . . . that would drive me nuts,” Andre said.

Lorenzo took hungry bites of the sandwich wedged in his paw.

“You still eating that?” I asked.

“I was laughing so hard, I almost forgot I had it,” he said, taking a huge bite. “Almost.”

A slice of bright pink ham with a bite mark and a thick glob of mayo hung on for dear life between the white bread. Without hesitation, he jammed what was left into his mouth, smacking his lips with each chew.

“Man, Lorenzo, do you have to do that in front of me?” I said. “Turn around or something. I don’t wanna see that.”

“For real, ’Zo, that’s nasty,” Trent said.

“Yeah”— Lorenzo chewed —“but not half as nasty as . . .”

Not again. “What? Not half as nasty as Andre’s brother doing it, right? Is that what you was gonna say, ’Zo? Huh?”

I picked up the pace, moving ahead of him. A check-cashing place had a line out the door, so I stepped into the street to get around it.

“Must be county day,” Lorenzo said.

“What?”

“I said it must be — forget it. Anyway . . . so, Shawn . . . I noticed you haven’t been saying much ever since we heard — you know — ‘Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God,’” Lorenzo said, catching up. His mayo-covered fingertips stained my shirt as he shook my shoulder.

“
Lorenzo,
do you
have
to keep saying that? We on a public street, man. People gonna think you all fruity or something, whispering that in my ear.”

“You ain’t never heard nothing like that before, have you, Shawnie-Shawn?”

He stepped in front of my path and forced me to stop. Bacon-and-sour-cream chips, ham, and mayo ignited my nose hairs as he got up close and personal. His eyes looked into mine and his breath heated my face.

I looked away to avoid his eyes and his breath. “Naw, I mean . . . yeah . . . you know . . .”

He moved his head around to lock eyes again. “Come on, Shawnie-Shawn . . . spit it out.”

“I’m just saying . . . it’s just . . . it was embarrassing listening to them . . . you know . . .” I said.

“Yeah, I know! Tell me about it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve come home to what I
thought
was an empty house only to hear my brother Dayshaun and some girl gettin’ down in his room,” he said.

We started moving again. Andre stood at the intersection punching the button as Trent dribbled out a beat.

Lorenzo continued. “You know, Shawn, you can learn a lot from them sounds. Most of the time, with my brother, it sounds like he’s running. You know, breathing all hard, trying to catch his breath and stuff. That’s him. But the girls . . .
oh, man!
They make all kinds of sounds! Like there was this one girl who sounded like she was in a fight; her voice was all mean and deep and stuff, and she’d scream every once in a while. Then there was this other girl —”

“OK, Lorenzo, I get it.”

As soon as the light turned red, Andre shouted: “Hurry up, y’all! It’s right over there.”

We dashed across the intersection. I scanned the block to get my bearings. Were we in blue territory or red territory?

The movie marquee greeted us on the other side with a bunch of titles I didn’t recognize, all misspelled.

“All I know is I’m gonna give her a reason to scream and shout,” Trent said, slapping five with Andre.

“Are we on this again?” I said.

“Shawnie-Shawn got embarrassed,” Lorenzo said, bumping my shoulder.

I sucked my teeth and folded my arms across my chest. I looked away to avoid the three of them and check out my surroundings. The movie theater was the largest building on the block with a Louisiana Fried Chicken on one side and a Lucky Liquors on the other side. Next to each of them stood stores with no signs on them. Across the street stood Maybell’s Beauty Parlor alongside yet another check-cashing spot. A long line snaked out in front of the check casher.

“Can we go inside now?” I said.

“What’s the matter, Shawn, you can’t handle the sounds of pleasure?” Lorenzo said, emphasizing “pleasure” by raising his voice and eyebrows.

Andre jumped in. “That’s cool, Shawn. I didn’t wanna hear it myself at first ’cause I was embarrassed too,” Andre said, then added, “But I’m glad I did.” He and Lorenzo slapped hands and laughed.

Trent was already at the window, raising four fingers to the ticket seller. We followed him inside but not before Andre finished what he started.

“I figure, that’s gonna be me someday, so I might as well get a sneak peek while I can. Fingernail scratches, moans, groans, and all,” he said, raising his voice at the end.

Lorenzo did him one better and shouted for all to hear, “Yeah, that’s gonna be all of us someday — soon. Hopefully
real
soon.”

“CAN WE GET SOME POPCORN or something with the one dollar we got left? I’m hungry,” Lorenzo said.

I didn’t see anything for less than two dollars as we walked past the concession stand.

“We can get something when we leave, man,” Trent said.

Lorenzo sucked his teeth. Then his eyes lit up and he raised a finger. “I almost forgot — I brought a little something with me.”

Master of the Flying Guillotine
— or
Flying Gillateen
as the marquee had said — was about to start, so we hustled to our seats. We fought over where to sit, settling on smack-dab in the middle. A couple of heads poked out here and there, but our group of four was the largest by far. I peeled my Stars off the sticky floor and propped them up on the seat in front of me. The fellas did the same.

Lorenzo stuffed his mitt into his sweatshirt pocket and wriggled out something none of us could see. “I brought these,” he said, pulling out what turned out to be a fresh pack of Ritz crackers. He put two in my hand.

Is he serious? “Gimme those. I’ll help myself,” I said.

I grabbed the package from him. He shrugged and looked to the screen. I passed them down, and when they reached Andre at the end, he said, “Lorenzo, you stole these from my house, didn’t you?”

Lorenzo gave no answer, and Andre remained silent. He must have not been too mad. The crunch of crackers mixed with the cheesy music on the screen as Master started chopping off heads, cutting a path through the Imperial Army on his way to Lord knows where.

Feet propped up, food in mouth, and eyes filled with action, I exhaled into my seat and relaxed. The fighting on-screen was replaced by talking, so I let my mind wander.

What’s Marisol up to today? When’s Janine leaving for UCLA? What’s Andre’s brother doing right now? What am I gonna find when I get back to Auntie’s? What’s Mama gonna do this weekend? Wait — it’s Dad’s weekend. I wonder what we’re gonna do. By the time the weekend rolls around, he’s tired and just wants to relax. At least his idea of relaxing isn’t cleaning the house, like it is Mama’s. He missed his last visit because he had to work out of town that weekend. San Diego, Santa Barbara . . . one of them Sans. No big deal. He still called me and we shot the breeze. I hope he brought me back something good.

“Lay down your weapon, or we will be forced to use our authority against you,” an imperial guard said, sitting on his horse, wearing a big ol’ Chinese triangle hat. His lips didn’t match the words coming out of his mouth.

Cut to the guillotine spinning out of Master’s hands. Cut to an image of four chopped heads with those funky triangle hats rolling on the dirt. Cut to an extreme close-up of Master’s eyes looking around, his head unmoved. Cut to a long shot of the imperial army facing down Master. Cut to the guards’ point of view looking at Master. His eyes narrowed. Cut to Master’s point of view of the army. About a hundred guards raised their red-tasseled white-feathered staffs into the air and spurred their horses.

“Here comes the big dance,” I said.

“You know Master is blind, right?” Trent said, sitting up.

“For real? How you know that?” Lorenzo said.

“I been listening to what they say. Haven’t you?”

“Man, I come to the movies to watch butts get kicked and heads get bashed. I don’t care about the story.”

“Yeah, but that’s how you know who’s gonna be fighting who, and why,” I said.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh!”
came from a couple of rows back.

I hadn’t picked up on Master being blind either. Probably because my mind was wandering.

“I couldn’t be blind,” Lorenzo said. “I couldn’t handle not being able to see all those fine girls in their fine outfits looking so fine.”

“Yeah, but you’d still have your other senses . . . like hearing,” Andre said, smiling.