touch my hair was about to wack Life in the back with the crow-
bar once again. I fired the gun. The sound was deafening. A blast
of orange exploded around my head. I was nearly knocked to the
ground but somehow I managed to keep my balance.
“
Muthafucka, get the fuck off of him! Now bitch, or I’ll blow
your muthafuckin brains out!” I yelled as spittle dribbled off my
lips like a deranged maniac on drugs. My hands trembled as I
aimed the gun. Tears streaked my cheeks. They all backed up off
of Life, leaving his lifeless body lying in a heap in the weeds and
28
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dirt. I called his name, “Life … Life!” He did not move. One of
the men was holding a knife in his hand. Oh my God! My eyes
darted to the knife and back to Life. A lone car passed. Three pairs
of eyes stared at me.
The leader spoke as he inched toward me. “Naw, Missy give
me dat dere gu–”
Pow!
I fired the gun at his head.
“
Get on the ground now!” I heard the crowbar hit the ground.
They all tried to get as flat as the dirt.
“
Please don’t shoot, lady,” I heard one of them cower.
As if being awakened from the dead, Life moved and sat up
rubbing his head the way people do when they are trying to get
over a hangover. I watched as he slowly rose and walked over to
me. There was a cut above his eye and his mouth was bleeding. I
swear to God I wanted to hug that man, that thug. There was no
doubt in my mind he would give his life for me.
“
Give me the gun!” he said with a tone in his voice that let me
know he was in control.
At that moment, I just fell apart, a fragile husk of myself. I fell
into his arms. He whispered in my hair for me to go sit in the car.
I walked to the car with legs that felt like rubber with weights
attached to them. Once inside the car, I looked at my watch–1:48
a.m.
Life now held a flashlight and rope he had taken off the men.
At gunpoint he made them all strip naked and walked them into
the woods. Fear danced with death’s flirtation as I sat in the car
praying to a god that not even I was sure of.
It seemed like Life had been gone for an eternity when I heard
the shots ring out, and then Life came running from out of the
woods. I noticed that he was limping badly.
“
What did you do?” I asked as soon as he entered the car. He
ignored me.
“
See if the car will start,” he said out of breath. His body omit-
ted an odor. I wondered if it was death. Another car passed and I
couldn’t help thinking I just wanted to get away, safe.
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I turned the key, praying with all my heart, that Betty would
start. Please baby, please start for mama. The motor turned over. I
knew the sound like I knew my own voice. She sputtered and then
died with a cough. Life watched me like I was a judge about to
decide his fate. I turned the key again and she started like a brand
new motor. “Thank you Jesus,” I mumbled. Life hopped out of
the car, picked up the hunting knife off the ground, sliced all the
tires on the truck and ran back to the car.
“
Let’s go,” he said with emotion in his voice. I eased the car
onto the road. I did not realize I was that cold until I felt the heat
on my feet. Life was jabbering away with the adrenaline rush of a
man who had just received a last minute reprieve from the electric
chair.
“
Goddamn, Hope, that was some gangsta shit you pulled back
there. I just wished you hadn’t taken so damn long. Them crackas
was tryin to kick the bone outta my ass-.”
We passed a sign that read “Kissimmee, Florida.” 176 miles to
Tallahassee. My mind was all over the place.
“
Life what did you do to those men? I heard shots.” My voice
cracked, like too much pressure on a dam.
“
Girl, do you know what them crackas was gettin ready to do
to us … to you?” His eyes finished the statement when he looked
at me saying that they were going to rape me. He fired up a ciga-
rette as I drove through the night wishing the car would go faster.
I turned on Route 19, a thoroughfare that goes through the hub
of the city. The town looked rural and antebellum; still I found it
comforting to be back within city limits. The streets were lined
with stores and small businesses, hotels and restaurants and the
speed limit was 35.
I passed through the toll booth and paid a dollar. On both
sides of the streets were police cars. “Smile,” Life told me. For the
benefit of the police, I spread my weary lips across my teeth and
displayed a smile as fake as the plastic fruit Grandma kept on her
dining room table. After what I had just experienced back there,
mentally and physically, I was exhausted. We drove in silence, and
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then it happened, the car slowed, kicked and sputtered. The
motor died. I coasted into a parking place on the side of the road.
Once we stopped, the reality of my grim situation pushed me over
the edge and I completely lost it!
“
Nooooo! Nooooo! Noooo!” I wailed, pounding my fists on
the steering wheel. The last twelve hours had been too much for
me to handle. It felt like I was having a nervous breakdown.
Slowly, I turned my head, and glared at Life. He was looking
at me with shock written all over his face, the way a person does
when they are trying to decide if you have lost your damn mind.
“
You!” I screamed at him, pointing an accusing finger in his
face. “Ever since I laid eyes on you, everything that can go wrong
has.” I felt tears brimming on the rim of my eyes. “I want to go
home. I don’t want to be stranded with you, and God please tell
me, what did you do to those men back there?!” My voice plead-
ed. I was winded. The police cruiser that was at the toll booth,
passed.
“
Smile,” Life said.
“
Shiiit,” I hissed, showing my teeth for a different reason,
looking like an angry possum about to attack his ass.
“
Listen Hope,” Life said. His voice was diplomatic, but I
could tell he was fighting for self-control. We were two people get-
ting on each other’s nerves.
“
You should have never attempted to make a trip in this car.
The radiator leaks, the motor is bad and some mo shit.” The
cadence of his voice changed almost as if he were talking to a small
child.
“
Hope we’re just about two hours outside of Tallahassee. We
can walk, sleep in the car, or we can get a few hours of rest at a
hotel while the car is getting fixed. I saw a Holiday Inn a few miles
back. I’ll call a tow truck and we can leave first thing in the morn-
ing.”
I slumped over the steering wheel placing my head over my
arms. I was exhausted, my head hurt and just the thought of a
long luxurious bath was tempting.
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“
We’ll sleep in separate rooms,” he assured. His words a gam-
bit. I figured, what did I have to lose? It was 2:00 a.m. and I was
tired. Spending the night in my car just did not appeal to me. So
I agreed under those conditions.
About thirty minutes later a tow truck was being hooked up
to my car. I grabbed my meager luggage and the three one hun-
dred dollar bills in the ashtray. Ever since I was a little girl, there
had always been something about hotels that I found alluring.
They made me feel like something I have never enjoyed, a vaca-
tion. At the Holiday Inn we got separate rooms with an adjoining
door. I kept mine locked.
As soon as we got our rooms, he walked me to mine like a
complete gentleman, and then went to the bar to get something
to drink. I took a long, hot luxurious shower that felt so good I
did not want to come out of there. After ward, I put on my night-
ie and crashed underneath the covers, but I could not sleep. Life’s
face kept appearing on the screen of my mind.
OK, I can’t lie, curiosity was killing me. It also killed the cat,
or in my case, I should say kitty.
*****
32
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
“
Fahrenheit of Lust”
–
Hope –
Curiosity got the best of me and I made the second biggest mis-
take of my life. The first one was helping him and now this.
I tiptoed to the door, unlocked it and then tried his door. It
opened. A single dim light shined in the room. Life sat perched in
a chair in front of a large picture window with the blinds opened
wide. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. The gleaming swimming pool in
front of his room reflected a kaleidoscope of colors off of his body.
A cigarette dangled from his finger as gray smoke ringed his head.
On the table was a bag of ice, a fifth of Hennessy and a shot
glass half filled. For some reason I just watched that man as the
smoke curled out his mouth, the stolid face of a Black man
impelled by his thoughts. Lord knows he had a lot to think about.
Again I wondered if he killed those men. I also wondered was I
attracted to him, a thug.
He took a sip of his drink, pinky finger extended, then he
made a face the way people do from a drink of strong liquor as he
stared at something out the window. Whatever it was held his
attention. Moments passed and he had me looking too, and sud-
denly it dawned on me what he was looking at–Me!!
“
Do you always creep into people’s rooms spyin’ on them
when you think they’re not watching?”
I was cold busted. The entire time, he was looking at me
through the reflection in the window. Slowly he turned toward me
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and I could see the scar underneath his eye. Something was miss-
ing, something was wrong. This was the intimate part of the man
without his mask, hur t prevailed on his face and instantly I regret-
ted coming into his room. His eyes roamed my body for a fleeting
second and then looked away, as if he were dismissing me.
“
Go and get some rest. We got a long day tomorrow with the
car and all.” His words were languid, he sounded tired. I just stood
there, lost for words, not able to describe what I was feeling for
this man. Maybe it was sympathy wrapped up in a big ole ball of
sorrow.
I was wearing practically nothing. My nightie was very trans-
parent. It was made of sexy satin and lace, cut short way above the
thigh. The cleavage was more than an eyeful since I wasn’t wear-
ing a bra. I was about as nude as a woman could get except for my
panties. Talk about a girl’s pride. “Can I have a drink?” I heard my
voice say, husky with a feminine timber of boldness.
“
Hope, I got a lot on my mind,” he said running his hand over