Authors: Carl Weber
Lookin' For Luv (2 page)
Mama exhaled loudly. Her voice was calm but full of intensity. “Just you wait one damn minute, Mr. Kevin Raymond Brown. I didn’t go through seventy-two hours of labor to have just another guy. You been special since the day you was born, son. Your problem is that you think havin’ a bunch of gold-diggin’ tramps chase after you makes you special. Well, I got news for you—it doesn’t.” She paused, but not long enough for Kevin to respond. “What you really need is to find yourself a nice church-goin’ girl and settle down. But don’t you worry, son, Mama’s gonna get the whole church to pray on it.”
Kevin cringed as he heard his mother mention her church. Mama had always been a strongly religious person, and while Kevin respected her for her faith, he didn’t necessarily want all the good people of Hopewell Baptist Church knowing about his dating problems.
“Mama, do you really think gettin’ the church to pray for me is somethin’ you wanna do?” Kevin asked, imagining his mother standing in front of the whole congregation saying “Would you please bow your heads and pray for my poor, lonely son to meet a real churchgoin’ girl?”
He could practically hear the chorus of amens that would follow her request and was sure Old Miss Williams would offer to send her homely daughter up to New York. The thought made Kevin’s temples throb, so he quickly changed the subject
“Mama, why you callin’ me at this time of night anyway? You know I call you every Sunday when the rates are lowest.”
There was a pause before she answered, still lost in her thoughts of matchmaking. “Lord have mercy, why did I call you? Oh, yeah, the coach from that Italian basketball team called here today. He wanted me to give him your phone number. But I told him I’d have to call you and see.”
Kevin released a long, sad sigh at the mention of basketball. Since moving to New York, he had done everything in his power to forget the sport entirely. Basketball had been the center of Kevin’s universe from the time he was old enough to tie his first pair of high-tops. He spent four years at Virginia State University, where he was captain of the team and the top scorer, leading his team to a NCAA Division II Championship. Becoming a professional basketball player had been his only goal after graduation, and he seemed well on his way to achieving that dream when the Charlotte Hornets offered him a chance to try out as a walk-on.
Kevin spent a month in Charlotte trying out, and his performance was strong. After practice one day he had a particularly encouraging conversation with a Hornets coach, who told Kevin he was a shoe-in to make the team. Still a little immature, and feeling triumphant from the good news, he skipped curfew and spent the night partying at a University of North Carolina frat house. During the party he hooked up with a particularly wild group of his frat brothers, who convinced him to go into a private room to share a joint with them. Normally Kevin treated his body like a temple, staying away from drugs of any kind But this night was different. He felt like his life had just begun, and in his jubilance he threw all caution to the wind and got high.
That joint turned out to be the destruction of Kevin’s dream. Three days later he discovered that before he could officially be signed to a contract, he had to take a drug test. He seriously considered packing his bags right then and there but decided he couldn’t give up that easily. In a panic he resorted to drinking gallons of goldenseal tea, which was rumored to mask marijuana in a drug test, and spent many hours praying for a miracle. When the test results showed evidence of drug use, Kevin was denied a contract and returned home to Hopewell empty-handed.
Back in his hometown he tried to hold his head high and find a new direction for his life as a physical education teacher. He began teaching “phys ed” in the small rural school, but the town’s residents had viewed Kevin as their own hero, and now looked on him with pity. When a local radio station called to ask him for an interview about his fall from grace, it was the final blow. Kevin quickly decided to move as far away from Hopewell as possible. With the encouragement of his church pastor he completed the necessary paperwork to have his credentials transferred to New York and took the first job he was offered. He packed his bags, drove his Toyota Celica to Queens, and vowed to forget he had ever wanted to play basketball.
Now Mama’s phone call was threatening to stir up painful memories for him.
“Aw‘ight, Mama, you can give him my number,” he told her sadly. “That way I can tell ’em that I’m not interested.”
“If that’s what you want, baby.” She wished her son would reconsider and decided to try one more time to change his mind. “Son, all your daddy’s life he wanted to be a train engineer, and he knew those trains good too. But them white folks wouldn’t even let him try on account ’a he was colored. So he ended up becoming a repairman just to be close to those trains, hoping one day he’d get his chance. Well, when that chance never came, he died more of a broken heart than he did from the alcohol. If you really love basketball like I believe you do, I think you should go to Europe and show the NBA they made a big mistake. Baby, this is your chance.”
“I ‘preciate what you’re tryin’ ta say, Mama, but this is my life, and I have to live it.” There was true love and affection in his voice. “Basketball’s just not an option for me anymore.”
“Aw’ight baby, if that’s how you feel, Mama’s gonna leave it alone. Now let me get off this here phone. I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Mama. I’ll call you Sunday.”
Kevin hung up and picked up his to-do list. He scribbled down
Send Mama some flowers
. Then, trying to relieve the stress that his basketball memories had stirred up, he went back to his push-ups, working his powerful dark arms until they began to ache. Satisfied with his workout, he peeled off his tank top, wrapped his towel around his neck, and sauntered into the bathroom. The towel dropped to the floor and Kevin slid his tight Calvin Klein underwear down his muscular legs. The cold air hit his naked body and he shivered.
Send Mama some flowers
. Then, trying to relieve the stress that his basketball memories had stirred up, he went back to his push-ups, working his powerful dark arms until they began to ache. Satisfied with his workout, he peeled off his tank top, wrapped his towel around his neck, and sauntered into the bathroom. The towel dropped to the floor and Kevin slid his tight Calvin Klein underwear down his muscular legs. The cold air hit his naked body and he shivered.
“Damn, it’s late,” he said aloud as he took off his watch. Frustrated, he turned the water on and stepped into the warm spray. The soothing warmth soon turned scalding hot. “God damn you, Monty,” he cursed, glaring at the ceiling and wishing his landlord would separate the plumbing. “Every time your fat ass flushes, my cold water shuts off. It’s almost like you know when I get into the shower so you run to the john to flush.” Disgusted, Kevin shut off the shower and stepped out. He shivered as the cold air hit him, wondering if Monty realized it was fall, time to turn on the heat. Grabbing a plush towel, he paused. His eyes closed and his shoulders hunched. As was happening more often lately, the pressure of being an unsuccessful black man fell upon him.
Look at my life
, he thought, staring at the dingy walls.
Barely a year ago I was bragging about this great NBA career I was going to have. Now I’m blacklisted from the league and I’m too embarrassed to show up at homecoming.
, he thought, staring at the dingy walls.
Barely a year ago I was bragging about this great NBA career I was going to have. Now I’m blacklisted from the league and I’m too embarrassed to show up at homecoming.
Wrapping the towel around his hips, Kevin walked into his bedroom and searched for a pair of boxer shorts to put on. His bedroom was small. Assorted boxes of clothes filled much of the space, holding most of his extensive dasigner wardrobe. Although living from paycheck to paycheck, Kevin took enormous pride in his appearance. He chose to spend his money on clothes rather than a dresser to keep them in. Digging through a box, he finally found a pair of silk boxers.
Kevin sat and watched the Playboy Channel for about fifteen minutes. He was not really interested in naked women playing volleyball, so he checked his
TV Guide
to see what was playing on BET. He grinned when he saw they were running
School Daze
. A good Spike Lee movie could always take his mind off his problems, even if only for a while. Scanning the channels, he arrived at BET just as his favorite Chris Rock 1-800-COLLECT commercial was ending.
TV Guide
to see what was playing on BET. He grinned when he saw they were running
School Daze
. A good Spike Lee movie could always take his mind off his problems, even if only for a while. Scanning the channels, he arrived at BET just as his favorite Chris Rock 1-800-COLLECT commercial was ending.
The commercial faded and a gorgeous woman appeared on the screen. Kevin thought it was Melanie Mann, an ex-girlfriend from Virginia State. He had many fond memories of their dates. Grabbing the remote, he turned up the volume to find out why his ex was on the screen. As he heard the woman’s voice, he realized it was not her, though she looked like she could have been her twin sister.
“Hi. Are you lonely?” the woman asked, flashing a brilliant white smile. “Are your weekends filled with too much TV and takeout?”
“Yeah,” Kevin answered the television pitifully.
“Well, I was that way too.” She put her arms around a Denzel Washington look-alike. “That is, until I met Derrick.”
Kevin laughed out loud as he opened a bag of chips.
“All I had to do was call 1-900-BLACK-LUV and before I knew it I had a date for each night of the week. I finally settled on Derrick, and in three months we’re getting married!” The two actors kissed.
“Yeah, right!” Kevin groaned as the words 1-900-BLACK-LUV flashed underneath the kissing couple.
Like either one of them has ever had trouble finding a date.
Like either one of them has ever had trouble finding a date.
When the commercial ended,
School Daze
came back on and Spike Lee’s character was begging every woman he met for sex.
School Daze
came back on and Spike Lee’s character was begging every woman he met for sex.
That’s one desperate brother
, Kevin thought, watching another woman turn Spike down.
Jeez, the stupid thing is I’m starting to feel a little desperate myself. Maybe not for sex so much, but for a quality relationship. Damn. It would be nice just to hold a good woman.
, Kevin thought, watching another woman turn Spike down.
Jeez, the stupid thing is I’m starting to feel a little desperate myself. Maybe not for sex so much, but for a quality relationship. Damn. It would be nice just to hold a good woman.
He looked at the phone a long while and finally grumbled, “What the hell. It can’t hurt if I call.” Reluctantly he walked over to the phone and dialed 1-900-BLACK-LUV
Lord, what am I doing to myself?
he thought. He almost hung up as he heard the connection on the line.
Lord, what am I doing to myself?
he thought. He almost hung up as he heard the connection on the line.
“Hello, you’ve reached 1-900-BLACK-LUV, the ultimate African American date line. If you are a woman, press one; if you’re a man, press two; if you’re calling to receive your mail, press three.” Kevin began to pace across the living room floor but hesitated before responding to the prompt.
He pushed two and heard, “Hi, brother. Your mailbox number is twenty-nine twenty-nine. Please write this down so you will be able to retrieve any and all messages in your mailbox. Now you have the option of listening to other callers’ personal ads or leaving one of your own. If you would like to listen, please press one. If you would like to record your message, please press two and start talking after you hear the tone.” Thinking that he’d seem less desperate if the women came to him, he chose to leave his own personal ad. He pressed two and waited for the tone.
“Hi,” he said in the sexiest voice he could manage. “I’m Kevin and I’m a twenty-three-year-old phys ed teacher from Queens. I’m six feet one inches tall, dark-skinned, with a very athletic body. I’ve been in New York only a few months, and I’m really a country boy at heart. I like reggae music and all sports. I’m not interested in playing games. I want some-one who’ll keep it simple and down-to-earth, so if this sounds like you, please leave me a message at box twenty-nine twenty-nine. Thanks.”
Listening to his message play back, he decided it was adequate. At least it was honest. He wasn’t about to start lying just to get a date on some phone service. He saved the message and hung up, still not sure about what he had just done. The whole idea of leaving a message on a 1-900 number left him a little queasy. No longer in the mood to watch television, he turned off the set and headed into his bedroom. As he drifted off to sleep, he wondered what types of women might answer his ad, and if he could admit to his friends at work how desperate he had become.
The Alternative High School for Boys in Queens, formerly known as Jackson High School, was considered one of the worst high schools in the New York City public school system. Jackson High, once a pillar of the Queens community, was closed down by the city in the late eighties due to gang violence and poor test scores. During the late nineties, as overcrowding became an enormous problem for the city schools, Jackson High was reopened with a new name and an entirely different population. The Alternative High School for Boys in Queens, as it was now called, serviced two thousand adolescent boys whose behavior had gotten them suspended or expelled from schools throughout the city. The student population was tough, and the teachers worked under a great deal of pressure. Many faculty members left before they even finished a year, and those who stayed on had to find coping mechanisms to keep them from losing it.
Kevin had been in a state of shock during his first few weeks as a teacher at the school. He had not been prepared for just how difficult these students would be, and many nights he went home to search the classified ads for a new job. One particularly bad day he had started searching the ads in the faculty room during his lunch hour. An English teacher who had become well liked among the students spotted Kevin’s distress and explained to him that the best way to deal with difficult students was to get to know them. He offered Kevin a position with the after-school program so that the boys would have an opportunity to interact with Kevin on a social level. The man’s name was Antoine Smith, and Kevin accepted his offer like a drowning man accepts a life preserver.
The two men spent countless hours after school each day counseling and advising young minority boys on how to survive the rat race of inner-city life. What began as a mentoring situation developed into a steadfast friendship for Kevin and Antoine.
During their afternoons at the school the men got to know many of the building’s security guards. One guard, Tyrone Jefferson, entertained them with his quick wit and generous laugh. He would stop by briefly at first, but as the men became more familiar with one another, they each looked forward to their afternoon meetings, and a true bond developed between the three.
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