Soulful Strut (17 page)

“Candi, let’s go,” LeAndre yelled to her.

“Come on, Monette. Between work and them
watchin’ us back at the house, I don’t get to be with LeAndre
enough. Not nearly enough,” Candi said with a sigh. “We really do
care about each other.”

“What you waitin’ on, baby? I’m ready.”
LeAndre did a bump and grind.

“Yeah. Y’all like Romeo and Juliet,” Monette
retorted. She shook her head.

“That’s my girl. Go dance some more with that
fine Trey. He’s a real player in this town.” Candi darted off.
“I’ll catch you in a minute.”

“Candi, don’t be stupid,” Monette yelled.
Another burst of loud music and the crowd drowned out her words.
Candi and LeAndre vanished in seconds.

“Your friend is gonna be busy for awhile.
Gives us time to take a ride over to the club I told you about I’ll
get you where you need to be by midnight” Trey held his palms out
as though that should reassure her.

“No, thanks.” Monette tried to walk away, but
Trey put a hand on her arm.

“I don’t think your friend is going to be
happy if you bust in on them.”

An image of what she might see flashed in
Monette’s head, and she stopped. “Right.”

“So like I was saying—”

“I’m not leaving without my friend. Besides,
I’m not into clubbing.” Monette crossed her arms and leaned against
the wall.

“Why you all tense and stuff? This is a
party.” Trey massaged the space between Monette’s shoulder blades.
“It’s gonna be awright”

“Sure it is.”

After a few minutes Monette let him lead her
back to the living room again. She refused a slow dance with him.
The crowd seemed to have gotten wilder. Several couples were wound
around each other, kissing. Monette watched three men come in the
front door. They looked around as though hoping to find trouble.
When Trey’s smile froze, Monette sensed something bad in the air.
Several people glanced at the newcomers, then left. A tall,
dark-skinned man appeared at Trey’s shoulder.

“We need to handle this, man,” Trey’s friend
mumbled.

“I got it.” Trey pushed his way through a
knot of couples bouncing to the music.

“Damn it, Candi. Fifteen minutes is up.”
Monette got to the door of the kitchen when someone shouted.

She turned around in time to see Trey’s head
snap back from a punch. His friend shoved aside one man, then
slammed his fist into a second man’s stomach. Women screamed as the
crowd pushed away from the fight. A heavy woman almost ran over
Monette in her quest to escape. The force of her bulk propelled
Monette ahead of the stampede into the kitchen. Gunshots exploded.
Monette kicked and clawed her way against the flood of sweaty
bodies running for the back door. She finally stumbled down the
hallway where Candi and LeAndre had gone. One door banged open, and
a half-naked couple raced out past Monette. Le-Andre ran out of a
second bedroom door.

“Candi,” Monette called out.

“You chump! Look what you done, Monette. I
was just gonna— Shoot.” Candi pulled down her shirt with a
frown.

“We gotta get the hell outta here fast.”
Monette went to a window, only to find burglar bars blocking that
means of escape.

When gunshots boomed again, Candi’s glazed
expression cleared up instantly. “I’m ready to go now.”

“No kiddin’.” Monette glanced around.
“Where’s another way out?”

“I, uh.” Candi ran in a circle, unable to
decide which way to go.

Monette cursed and clutched the hem of
Candi’s shirt. “C’mon.”

They ran toward the kitchen. Sirens squealed
closer by the minute. In seconds Monette got them to the back door
and through it. When they jumped a fence, a dog barked and jumped
around frantically. Neither of them paused to see how big or
dangerous it might be. Instead they sprinted to a gate and
scrambled over it. More people raced ahead. Monette heard footsteps
behind her.

“Hold up. I hurt my foot,” Candi panted.

“You better heal fast unless you wanna go
back to prison,” Monette said over her shoulder. When a police car
pulled up, Monette swore.

“Let’s take this back alley.” Candi turned,
but Monette caught the belt loop of her blue jeans.

“Run and they’ll chase us down,” Monette
whispered.

A white female officer gave them a stony
stare. “You ladies live in this neighborhood?”

“Yeah. We were walking home from the bus stop
and heard a pap-pap-pap. Around here that’s probably a gun, so we
took off runnin’. Think it came from a house back that way.”
Monette pointed down the street

“Oh yeah?”

The officer looked skeptical. She continued
to stare at them for a few seconds, then started to get out of her
car. A voice crackled through a speaker that a male suspect was
headed east on North Street so she sped off instead. Monette
finally let out a breath when the patrol car vanished around a
corner. Candi groaned with relief. She limped behind Monette for
two blocks before she spoke.

“Hey, slow down. I think I sprained
something.” Candi took off one shoe and rubbed her right foot.

“Exercising it should help. Keep moving,”
Monette snapped and kept walking.

“I’m not jokin’, girl. Ouch.” Candi leaned
against the post holding up a stop sign.

Monette let out a long hiss. She stopped,
counted to ten, and then went back to where Candi stood. “Let me
see.”

“Them fools better not have made me break my
foot,” Candi whined. She flinched when Monette first touched her
ankle, but relaxed a second later.

“Does it hurt when I press?” Monette put her
skills learned in first-aid classes at the prison to use.

“No, but it feels sore.” Candi watched
Monette gently probe with the tips of her fingers.

“You didn’t break anything. Probably just
twisted it a little. If any bones were broken, the pain would be a
lot worse.” Monette glanced at her wristwatch and started off.
“We’ve got plenty of time to make it back.”

“Let’s stop someplace to rest first. There’s
a fried chicken place still open down the street. I could use
something to eat anyway.” Candi put her shoe back on. She smoothed
down her clothes.

“You got to be out of your mind.” Monette
spun around to face her, both hands on her hips.

“It ain’t even eleven-thirty. We can have a
bite to eat, call a cab, and get back by curfew no sweat.” Candi
smiled as though they’d had a normal night on the town.

Monette marched up to her until they were
nose to nose. “I was stupid enough to listen to you once. It won’t
happen a second time tonight. Now you can come with me or chow down
on greasy chicken by yourself. Choose.”

“You need to stop trippin’, gurl. We both got
out okay, didn’t we? And you got to admit that was a jammin’ party
until some fool started shootin’ up the place. No harm done.
Anyway, I can’t walk four or five miles on my sore foot back to the
halfway house.” Candi waved her arms, as though frustrated with
Monette.

“I should break more than your foot for
getting me into this mess,” Monette yelled over her shoulder.

Candi half jogged, half limped until she
caught up to Monette. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know all that was
gonna happen. You actin’ like I planned it.”

“You knew thugs and chumps would be there.
Wouldn’t take much common sense to figure there might be trouble,”
Monette shot back.

“Up until tonight Faye had some good parties
with nice folks like us,” Candi said. She huffed at the pace
Monette forced her to keep.

Monette let out a loud, gruff laugh. “Like
us, huh? We’re not exactly members of the Junior League.”

“We don’t go around shootin’ folks, though.
I’m tellin’ you Faye’s parties have always been people just lookin’
for a good time. Never been a big problem before,” Candi
replied.

‘Trey and LeAndre are gangstas. I know the
type and so do you, so don’t even try it.” Monette stopped at a
street corner when the traffic light turned green. Cars whizzed
by.

“Thank you. I need to catch my breath.” Candi
leaned against her. “I’m really sorry, Monette. Come on now. I
didn’t eat any supper at the house cause you know I hate tuna
casserole. Let’s go over to the Chicken Shack. Please?”

“Ten minutes. After that I leave with or
without you.” Monette scowled at Candi when she grinned.

“That’s why they call it fast food. Come on.”
Candi walked ahead as though her foot had healed.

They followed the smell of fried chicken to
the bright yellow building. Candi went in and greeted the woman
behind the counter. In minutes she’d bought a three-piece dinner
with French fries, coleslaw and a strawberry soda. Monette got a
diet cola. They went to a booth and sat down. The Chicken Shack did
a brisk late-night business. Monette watched customers come and go
while Candi ate.

“Hmm, now this is good food. You oughta have
some. Here, take this drumstick. I can’t eat all this anyway. These
pieces are huge. I never saw chickens this big on my grand- mama’s
farm.” Candi waved at a couple across the room.

“I don’t want any.” Monette stared through
the glass window at traffic passing in front of the restaurant.

Candi threw down a bone and wiped her hands
on a napkin. “Look, get over it. I didn’t drag you over to Faye’s
place at gunpoint, ya know. Damn! All of a sudden you too good to
hang with me.”

“Quit the guilt trip. You’ve been playing
that card since I got to New Beginnings, and it’s old. Sure, things
are different for me. I wrote a book, got a radio show and some
attention from the press. So you get over it.” Monette glared at
her.

“Fine.” Candi picked up a plastic fork and
stabbed it into the container of coleslaw.

“Yeah, fine,” Monette shot back. Neither
spoke for another ten minutes.

“I’m finished so we can go,” Candi said
finally.

Monette went to a pay phone in the corner
near the restrooms and called a cab. She went back to the booth.
“The guy said fifteen minutes.”

“ ’Kay. Let’s not fight. I should have
listened to you when you wanted to leave. You always had a nose for
trouble.” Candi shrugged.

Monette sighed. “I could have said no. To be
honest, I wanted to party.”

“It’s tough being out in the world again.”
Candi leaned forward with both elbows on the table. “That’s all I
thought about for eight years, all the things I’d do once I got
out. Funny how much stuff can change in a short time. I got off the
Greyhound bus and it was like I’d got off a time machine or
somethin’. You know what I mean?”

“No kidding. I was inside longer than you.
I’m not sure of anything most days. I wake up at two o’clock in the
morning sometimes with this sick fear in the pit of my stomach. I’m
wondering if this is the day I screw up and go back to prison. I’ve
screwed up so many times before.” Monette picked up the paper cup
of soda to keep her hand from shaking.

“Damn, you got a lot goin’ for you out here.
If anyone can make it, you can.” Candi gave a sharp nod to show she
had confidence in Monette.

“I’m like everybody else in that house in one
important way. I’m one phone call from being revoked and sent back
to prison,” Monette reminded her.

“Ain’t gonna happen. You’ve got more sense
than any of us, me especially,” Candi said.

“Uh-huh. That’s why I was right there with
you jumping fences and dodging the police a while ago,” Monette
wisecracked.

Candi grinned at her. “A momentary lapse in
judgment ’cause you wanted to hang with a friend. Hey, I had fun
even with my hurt foot”

“You’re a drama junkie.” Monette relaxed
against the yellow plastic bench. “Didn’t know I could still move
that fast.”

‘Tell me about it I was working hard to keep
up.” Candi pursed her lips.

They looked at each other and burst into
laughter. They traded jokes for another few minutes. A group of
rowdy customers came in. Two teenagers got into a playful shoving
match that quickly turned serious. The six-foot-five muscular
manager came out and made them behave. Monette glanced past Candi
and saw a black-and-white taxicab pull into the parking lot.

“Our ride is here. Not a moment too soon.”
Monette waved for her to follow.

“Great. We’ve had enough excitement tonight.”
Candi slid from the booth.

“There’s always tomorrow, though.” Monette
laughed again when Candi’s eyes widened in fear.

Monette and Candi got to the halfway house at
five minutes before midnight. They hurried down the driveway to the
back door. They rang the doorbell and stood under the floodlight so
they could be seen through the peephole. The night staff on duty
let them in, then glanced at the kitchen clock. Mrs. Inelle Mason
still had the novel she was reading in one hand. Everyone called
her Miss Inelle.

“You ladies cut it close. In by midnight does
not mean walking down the driveway at the stroke of twelve.” Miss
Inelle clicked the three locks back in place. She went to the table
and sat down. She wore a hairnet over her neatly combed gray
hair.

“Lucky for us Nita ain’t on duty tonight. She
would have locked us out and written up a report for Trudy.” Candi
gave the older woman a hug.

Miss Inelle brushed her off. “You saying I’m
a pushover, that I violate rules and don’t do my job?”

“No, ma’am.” Candi’s smile vanished under
Miss Inelle’s stare. She stood to attention.

“Don’t mistake kindness for weakness, missy.
I’ll write your butt up if you cross the line.” Miss Inelle pointed
at her.

“We appreciate you being tough but fair. Miss
Inelle. Next time we’ll be back well before curfew,” Monette chimed
in.

“Better be. Don’t know why ladies need to be
rambling around in the streets this time of night anyway. Ask me,
the curfew should be nine o’clock at night Monday through
Sunday.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Candi and Monette replied in
twin respectful tones.