Sweet Bye-Bye (22 page)

I could write a book on being left. Too much. I was just going to pretend we were little-kid-best-friends again.

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I stumbled back into the conversation. “Do you ever feel like you’re wearing a mask?”

“A mask?” he asked.

“Yes, you know, like, for example, one moment I have to be an advertising expert, and the next moment, I’m . . .”

“What? Diva extraordinaire, or little spoiled Chawnee, with the sad angel eyes?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I’d guess that we all have roles in life. The trick, I think, is to stay humble and not get lost in them.”

“How do you do that?” I wanted to know.

“Well, I don’t know, Chantell . . . I guess you have to know what you value. Me, I value jazz music. I value sunsets, and waterfalls. I value God, who is the head of my life and whom I trust completely. Do you feel me?”

Mmm-hmm, I thought, but it didn’t come out. I was speechless.

“You there?”

“I’m here.”

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

“Umm, no, Keith, I can’t.” My life was a little too heavy right now.

“Why not?”

“Well, I have a lot going on at work, and you have a lot going on until late hours. I’m helping to take care of my daddy. I am not getting home until late. And you know that you’re leaving soon.” Oops, I didn’t mean to say that last part.

“Huh?”

“I just mean that you have so much work to do before you leave, and I’ve been really tired, you know. Stuff like that.”

“Well then, we don’t have to go bungee jumping or anything. We can rent videos and eat popcorn. C’mon, Chawnee, it’s me.”

Why was I afraid of him? He was my friend, and he just wanted to spend a little time with me. Renew our bond.

I was quiet. “Okay. When?”

“That’s my girl.”

38

On the Road Again

A
fter the hectic workday I’d had Friday, I thought Saturday would never come around. I was looking forward to my little date with Keith. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do. Keith said it was a surprise, but that I should dress casual. He told me to wear something that I could move around in.

I was excited, and rechecked myself in the mirror. I wore a cotton Gap T-shirt with a red number 52 on the front and long red sleeves. My jeans were cuffed up to my calves and bent with me as I moved, and my new K-Swiss sneakers were a beaming white. Tia straightened my hair, and I combed it in an off-center part, then bumped the ends upward into a semi flip at my shoulders. I thinly lined my eyelids sleek black, thanks to my swift hand and my new black liquid liner. I topped them off with a smudging of white eye shadow. And of course, my ever-shining lips looked great. I had on a new nude lip gloss that dazzled and was outlined by a soft pink lip color. Simple but pretty, I hoped.

The doorbell rang. When I opened it, Keith’s six-foot frame appeared and the gentle scent of spices drifted through my doorway, delicately teasing my nostrils. I smiled and thought of the fun that we would have together. Keith’s head was freshly shaved. His goatee was perfectly lined. His chocolate skin shone. He had on a silver watch, a white shirt with big blue and beige stripes. He also wore beige khaki pants with pockets on the sides down by his calves.

“Hi.” Keith looked at me. “You look good, Chantell!”

“Thank you,” I said. “So do you.”

His brown skin radiated like he had bathed in milk, and his eyebrows looked like they had been groomed with care, the way they had since he was born.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes, are we taking my car?”

“Nope, not today.” He grabbed my hand.

I locked the door and we left.

When we got into the borrowed Town Car, Keith put the key in the ignition and the car dinged, reminding us to close the doors. He took a deep breath and said, “Chantell, I’ve always thought the world of you.”

He is so sweet, I thought. “And I you,” I said. “Shoot, for a while there, you were my only friend, remember?” I laughed at my joke.

He smiled. Then he put his hands on both of my cheeks, gently turned my head toward him, and kissed my forehead. “Now let’s go have some fun.” He started the car, and we were off. I looked straight ahead and tried to gain control of my chest, which was rising and falling uncontrollably.

I could have taken his kiss for more than what it was, but I knew better. I thought about Tia’s ridiculous comments. “You shy away from attachment when it comes to your heart.” That girl didn’t know nothin’. The divorce rate was over 50 percent, spouses cheated, they ran off, and they died. I had no intention of getting caught up in any unnecessary pain. With relationships, you should be cautious, and you should plan them out. Then you know what you get. And when it’s over, it’s over. No hard feelings. And when Keith Rashaad left, it would be the same way. I’d just give him some dap and say, “Alright, dude. I’ll see you when I see ya!”

With Keith behind the wheel, we rode for nearly two hours. We found an oldies station that played James Brown and the Jackson 5. We laughed, and danced as much as we could in the car, which mainly consisted of us rolling our heads from side to side, doing “the snake,” and shaking our shoulders doing “the shamrock.”

39

K-I-S-S-I-N-G

W
e ended up at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. All my life I’d lived in the Bay Area, and I’d never stopped in Santa Cruz for any time longer than it took to gas up. We got out and I surveyed the place. It looked just like it did in the commercials. Before me stood an amusement park on a beach, with a huge Ferris wheel, and skateboarders. Lots of families. Kids running around. Popcorn. Cotton candy. People with surfboards under their arms. The sun was shining on everyone. The sound of roller-coasters zipped through the air. To me, it looked unreal, like at any moment a director would come from behind a scene and say, “Cut! Okay, that’s a wrap!”

I faced in the direction of the boardwalk, but Keith took my hand and led me the other way to a little nearby bike shop. The “shop” looked more like a hut from
Gilligan’s Island.
Leaning against it were surfboards, bikes, roller skates, and baby strollers.

Keith looked around at the ten-speeds and mountain bikes with special gears. Then he went over to two very old bikes tied together, one orange, one black. They had no fancy gears. They had big fat tires, maybe three or four inches wide, with thick whitewalls on the sides, and big fenders that covered the top of both the front and back tires. The handlebars looked like straws that had been bent up into a U. Keith picked up the orange one and motioned for me to come and sit on its heavily cushioned black triangle seat. I complied. It felt comfy, like a favorite old housecoat. Keith went into the shack to rent the bikes, while I practiced ringing the bell on the handlebars.
Ting-ting, ting-ting,
it rang. I kinda liked the thing. “Hurry up, Keith Rashaad, your putt cycle’s awaiting,” I said.

He came out, got on the old black bike, and we started our journey. Keith’s bike had a horn made of a black rubber bulb. “Push it!” I said. “I want to hear how it sounds.”
Honk-honk
—it sounded like a duck on the water. I laughed. This could really be fun. He looked at me, smirking, and shook his head. I put my feet on the pedals and rolled down the walkway. I was a little wobbly at first, but then it all came back to me.

We rode along the beach and past the people. We rode until we came upon a group of surfers, three guys and a girl. We rode as close to them as the sidewalk built on the sand would permit. I stood there, one foot on the ground, the other on a pedal, while we looked out at them. They would swim out with their boards, wait for the right wave, and then jump on the boards and let it take them in. Unfortunately for them, there wasn’t a whole bunch of breaking waves this day. Nevertheless, their group, and Keith and I, would get excited each time a wave broke, hoping that the water would swell up enough to bring them in stronger than the last.

“Look, here comes one, Keith,” I would say. Or he would say to me, “Okay, this is a big one!” Only to have it never materialize into much.

I rested on the seat of my bike and sneaked a glance over at Keith. He wasn’t sneaking, he was looking at me directly. I stood up and walked, straddling the bike, toward him. He sat on his bike and watched me come closer and closer. I was feeling bold, and silly, and when I got close enough, I looked at him dead square in his eyes, and I sucked my jaws in and made a fish face.

Keith just shook his head and laughed. “Little Chantell. You are so funny!”

“Why, thank you, sir, I try . . . Hey, Keith,” I said, “remember how we first started talking?”

“Do I? You were really fast, and you walked over and kissed me in the church.”

“No!” I cracked up. “No!”

“Yes, you did! Then you tried to cover it up by calling me a name.”

“I told you it was because of a bet,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “Keith, I was six years old!”

“Umm-hmm. That’s what you say.”

“Stop!” I laughed. After I’d kissed him that day, I remembered feeling dazed and starry-eyed. It was his positive vibe, his energy. It was good even when he was a child, and he was delightful now.

Keith Talbit stood next to me and rubbed my back through my red T-shirt. He ran the tips of his fingers gently back and forth over my shoulder blades. I closed my eyes and felt his touch. I inhaled the scent of beach water. There were seagulls chirping and flying nearby. I thought about his kiss in the car, and wondered what it meant. I closed my eyes and absorbed the peace. I wanted to lock this moment in my long-term memory forever. Because if there was one lesson I had learned in life, it was that all good things come to an end. After Keith’s project was over and he was long gone, I wanted to remember this moment forever.

“It’s been so long since we just broke bread like this. Just me and you,” he said. I opened my eyes and looked at him for two seconds. I really loved being with him. I really loved that he was a goal setter. I really loved that he spent time at the local Boys and Girls Club talking with teenagers. I really loved that he loved God and put Him first in his life. I put my lips on his and kissed him just as a big wave hit the shore.

“Thank you,” he said to me in a whisper almost.

“Why are you thanking me?” I asked.

He said, “Chawnee, I know it’s not your thing to show people your feelings. In fact, it’s not your thing to let your heart show at all.” He paused. “But your eyes, they tell on you.”

I really loved Keith Talbit. I drew close to him and put a thousand gentle kisses on his lips.

“Wheew! Look-it, Mommy! They’re
kissinn’
!” said a little voice that passed around where we stood blocking the sidewalk.

“Yes, Alexis,” said the mother. “That’s because they are in love.”

The little girl giggled and squealed some more as she walked hand in hand with her mom. Then she started singing:
“First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage!”

“Oh, Lexy!” said the mother.

Keith laughed, and I tried to smile too. I wanted to, but the truth was, she reminded me of what I was not supposed to be doing.

Keith must have felt the tension in my body. “Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

But I wasn’t. I’d made an oath to protect myself. “Can we ride some more?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

He led and I followed. We rode until we came upon another sidewalk. We followed it out of the beach area and through a neighborhood. We were famished when we came upon a little pink building that was a Thai restaurant.

“Do you eat Thai food?” asked Keith Rashaad.

“Yes, I love it.”

“Good, me too. Let’s go eat.”

We parked our bikes and went in to eat. Though small, the restaurant was elegantly designed.

I tried to stick to my guns and block out my feelings, but it had been a whole hour, and I’d forgotten about my little oath again. We were laughing out loud, like kids in puberty.

“Your Grandma Edna was a wise woman,” I said.

“Yeah, my Grandma Ed was a straight shooter. She taught me so much.”

“She taught me a lot too.” I thought about her. “Hey, remember when we were nine years old, and you said that we should steal the Lemonheads?”

“Nope! And don’t try to blame that on me,” said Keith, laughing. “
You
said we should steal the Lemonheads!”

“I don’t think so!” I said.

“Yes.” Keith pointed at me. “You said that we should put them under our shirts, and they were rattling around like marbles. And we tried to walk out of the store like that!”

I laughed. “I remember. I was so nervous, I let go of my shirt, and mine fell out! Dude, I think that was your idea.”

“Yeah, whatever, I remember it all. Then the store owner called our parents, and I got a beating, and your daddy gave you a good talking to!”

I was in tears laughing.

“I will never forget what Grandma Edna said to me either,” Keith said, staring down at his napkin. “She said, ‘Boy, I love you dearly, but if you gone be stealin’ you need to know that Momma ain’t comin’ out to the jailhouse to visit you.’”

We burst out laughing again.

“Oh, I loved your grandmother. She was no joke.”

We reminisced some more until our food came.

“Keith, thank you so much; I haven’t had this much fun in I don’t know how long.”

“You’re welcome, Chantell. I’d do just about anything for you.”

I played with the fork on the table in front of me and waited for him to laugh it off, but he never did.

“You know what? When I was little I used to always say that you were my girlfriend, and that when I got big, you’d be my wife. Then one day you just kissed me.”

I spun the fork around and respread the napkin that was on my lap. I smiled and tucked my hair behind my ears. I hadn’t realized before how hot it was in there. Before he could go on any further, I said, “Umm, excuse me. I need to go to the ladies’ room.”

In the bathroom, I paced. I wanted to say, “Keith, people I love always seem to leave me.” And he thought he knew a lot about me, but did he know that I never cried at my own mother’s funeral? What he saw was an infatuation, an illusion. I played with the little diamond studs in my ears. I wouldn’t let it get any further. We weren’t really dating anyway. Plus, he was leaving soon. I reapplied my lipstick.