Going Down (2 page)

“Oh, shit!” I screamed as I drenched his hand. “Shit yes!”

I pushed his hand away and got up on my knees. “Lay down,” I said; and he quickly complied with my wishes. I got on top of his body and grabbed his dick.

“Yeah,” he said and watched as I slowly lowered myself down on him. I moved a little bit until I got comfortable and had taken him all in. I sat straight up on him and rode him slowly, and he closed his eyes and moved in and out of me. I leaned forward and laid my body against his, and slid my hand under the pillow. I began to move a little faster as I pressed the tip of the silencer to his forehead and pulled the trigger. “
Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh
!” I screamed and slammed my body against his, until I all but passed out on his chest.

Once I had caught my breath, I got up and headed for the shower so I could wash the blood and his scent away from my body. When I was done, I got dressed and wiped the room down so there wouldn’t be any fingerprints. I took one last look at him, put the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door and left for the airport.

I opened my eyes slowly and scanned the room. The first thing I noticed was that I was still fully dressed. I took a look at the clock. It was 10:45, on the Saturday before Labor Day. The second thing slapped me in the face: I grabbed my head with one hand and covered my eyes with the other to block out the sun. I had the serious head-throbbing hangover. Blazing sunshine was the last thing I needed after last night.

Last night’s poker game was too wild.

I dragged myself out of bed and staggered into the living room; it was trashed. Empty glasses and beer bottles were everywhere, every ashtray in the house was full and empty Krystal hamburger boxes and half-eaten burgers were everywhere. And to top it off, somebody had crashed on the couch.

Wonder who that is?

But I simply could not find the motivation to walk over there to find out. I shook my head, turned around and headed back to bed.

I’ll deal with this mess later.

I tossed and turned, rolled around and tried to hide under the covers, but the sun was inescapable. To further complicate matters, the telephone rang. My mind told me don’t answer it, but instinct had already taken control. “Hello.”

“Hey, Tavarus.”

“What’s up, Angelique?”

“Did you have fun last night?”

“Other than drinking too much, yeah, we had a good time.” Once a month my boys, Zack and Chris, and I, along with a few of my friends, get together to play a little poker. “Way too much to drink,” I answered rubbing my head.

“You got a hangover, huh?” She laughed.

“I think hangover is an understatement. Angelique, I swear, I’ve never felt this bad in my life.” I’d tried massaging my temples, but that wasn’t helping either.

“You shouldn’t have drunk so much.”

“Yeah, I know. But I had a ball.”

“How many women did y’all have over there?” Angelique asked.

I took the phone away from my ear and began tapping it. I liked her, but it wasn’t my place to tell her. Angelique was Zack’s wife, so if he wanted to tell her that we had a couple of strippers over, that was his business. “Hello, hello. Angelique, we must have a bad connection.”

“Yeah, see how you do me? You ain’t right, Tavarus. Anyway, as much as I’d love to sit and chitchat with you, I have to say good-bye. You know what a busy woman I am,” she said jokingly. “So—is, Zack there?”

“I don’t know? Somebody crashed on the couch; it might be him.”

“You don’t know who’s sleeping in your condo?” Angelique asked.

“Hey, hey, they got a coat over their head. But hold on and I’ll see.”

I put down the phone and sat up in the bed. I shook off the nod and stood up too quickly. I had to steady myself before I attempted to make way through the mess. I snatched the coat off and it was Zack.

Zack came here to Atlanta from Boston to go to Morehouse on a basketball scholarship, but he blew out his knee in tryouts, and so ended the scholarship. Zack dropped out after his sophomore year due to lack of money, and not to mention a lack of interest.

I’m an
ATL
transplant, too. I grew up in Detroit. I’m the oldest of three children. Me and my two sisters, Pat and Anita, were all born fourteen months apart, almost to the day. Growing up in Detroit, both of our parents worked for GM on the second shift. They met on second shift, he asked her to marry him on second shift, and they got married the next day while they were on break. Pops had Reverend Jenkins meet them there. They got married and were back on the line in fifteen minutes. They wouldn’t work any other shift but second shift.

After school, we’d go to my grandmother’s house until they got off. When I was thirteen, my grandmother died in her sleep. After that, a whole new world opened up to us. As long as we made it home by the time Moms and Pops got there, everything was cool. It must have been funny some nights to see the three of us come running up from different directions, trying to make it home. All three of us were pretty wild. Anita finally chilled out after she got married and had a baby a couple of years ago. But not Pat, that girl is still wild. They were into everything, and then they got boy happy. Anyway, my parents realized this about them early. So in a vain attempt to slow them down, my parents sent them to private school.

Now my pops is a working man—don’t know nothing but work. Other than women, I mean. All his money went into trying to keep my sisters out of trouble.

When I was seventeen and started thinking about going to college, my parents were in the middle of an ugly divorce. Pops was messin’ around; got caught with a younger woman. My mother caught him coming out of the motel. He ended up marrying the woman he got caught with. He was forty-one; Simone was twenty-five. My stepmother Simone, she’s pretty cool and she still looks good. Matter of fact, she’s fine! They’ve been married for fifteen years. Now Pops is damn near sixty and has four more teenage girls to get through. I feel for him. Anyway, when it came time for me to go to college, there was no money.

Pops told me that if I’d be a little flexible, he could hook something up for me. But I wasn’t interested in waiting around for a job at the plant. I was going to college one way or another. I joined ROTC and juggled any part-time job I could find around my classes. I waited tables, been a cook and a bus boy. I hate the name bus boy, but shit, that’s what I was. I sold shoes, did security. Did all kinds of warehouse jobs. It was hard some days, but I got through it. When it was all said and done, I graduated with a degree in accounting, served three years in the Army and got out.

I shook Zack. “Yo, man, Angelique’s on the phone.”

“Huh?”

“Angelique’s on the phone, man,” I said louder, handing him the cordless phone. Zack sat up and looked around the room. “Damn, this place is fucked up. What time is it anyway?”

“I don’t know. Ask Angelique, she should know. You know what a busy woman she is,” I said and dragged myself back to bed.

After a while, I heard Zack hang up the phone and start cleaning up the room. “Yo, Tee!” he shouted on the way to the kitchen. “Come on, man, let’s get this over with!”

“Shit.” I had counted on him running his mouth with Angelique for at least a half an hour. I really didn’t want to stand up, much less deal with that mess. But Zack was right, the sooner we got started, the sooner I could go back to bed.

“Wake up, Tee man, let’s get this over with.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you call some of your women to come clean up this place?” I said, but Zack didn’t answer. “What time did Chris cut out?”

“About six. After everybody left. I think he left with one of the dancers. You had passed out long before that,” Zack replied, slamming the refrigerator door.

“Is there anything left to drink?” I asked, plopping down in a chair.

“Hell no! You know niggas didn’t leave until every drop of alcohol was gone.”

“We need to go get some brew or something. I can’t do this sober.”

“Let’s go,” he said, removing his cell from his pocket. As soon as he turned it on it started ringing. Zack checked the number. “Hold up, man, let me see what Lana wants.”

“You know what she wants,” I said and sat back down in the chair. Zack put the call on speaker. “It’s about time you answered the phone. I’ve been calling you all morning. I was beginning to think you were trying to ignore me.”

“I turned my phone off. I wanted to enjoy myself last night,” he said.

“I see. So, what are you doing?” Lana asked.

“I’m here with Tee cleaning up. Say hello, Tee.”

“Hello, Lana,” I said and shook my head.

“Hey, Tee. Zack, take me off blast, please.”

“Okay,” Zack said, but he didn’t do it. “You’re off speaker.”

“I wanna see you.”

“Well, like I said, we’re cleaning up and then I’ll get Tee to take me home. Why, you gonna come help clean up?”

“I’ll help you,” she said.

“Well come on then,” Zack said quickly.

“But I want to be compensated for my efforts.”

“Just come on, if you’re coming.”

“I’ll be there soon,” she said and quickly hung up the phone. Zack hung up the phone, picked up his keys, and started out the door. “Lana said she’s coming to help clean up.”

“I heard,” I said and shook my head. I don’t why Zack feels the need to put the girl on blast like that. Probably because he knows she hates it. That and the fact that he has no respect for her. “Let’s go. She’s not coming,” I said and locked the door. Lana wasn’t exactly the most reliable woman in the world. She would say anything, and most times did nothing. So, I have no respect for her either.

We drove to the store, picked up a twelve pack and went back to the condo. When we pulled up to the gate, Lana was there waiting. “And they say that miracles never cease.” I was shocked that she actually showed up. “I don’t know why you keep fuckin’ with her, Zack.”

“’Cause she’s fine and the pussy is all that. That good enough for you?”

“That’s good enough for me.”

We went inside the condo and got started. Me and Zack cleaned up the living room while Lana got busy in the kitchen. When we finished in the living room, I disappeared quietly into my room. Didn’t take long after that before Lana followed Zack into the other bedroom to receive compensation for her cleaning services.

I just have to laugh sometimes. Women talk about us being dogs. But just who do they think we’re out here dogging around with.

Women ain’t shit.

Hold up.

That’s not fair. Some women ain’t shit.

I have a problem with women. Not getting them. Some women find me attractive and I have the kind of talent women appreciate, so keeping them isn’t a problem, either. My problem is I don’t understand them and they don’t understand me. Maybe I never have really been in love with anybody, so I don’t understand why a woman in love does the things she does. Why so many equate love with orgasms. Why they call you on the telephone and say, “I didn’t want anything.” And why hearing the three words “I love you” means so much to them. Words are meaningless. Anyone can invoke the words without meaning them.

So I find myself constantly in search mode, looking for the perfect woman, or at least the perfect woman for me. I want her to be intelligent with a degree of sophistication. Without being snobbish of course. I want her to be a beautiful lady on my arm, but be able to fuck like an animal.
That doesn’t seem like too much to ask.