The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
THE HEART IS A LONELY
HUNTER
Bertrand E. Brown
iUniverse, Inc.
New York Lincoln Shanghai
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
Copyright © 2005 by Bertrand Brown
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ISBN-13: 978-0-595-36178-6 (pbk)
ISBN-13: 978-0-595-80623-2 (ebk)
ISBN-10: 0-595-36178-1 (pbk)
ISBN-10: 0-595-80623-6 (ebk)
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
“C’mon Stacy, the party’s supposed to start in fifteen minutes and I’ve still got to take these rollers out and do my hair. I really don’t have time for you and your little Dear Abby routine right through here. So, if you don’t mind, Miss Thang, would you please stop minding other people’s business and concentrate on doing my hair and make-up. Boy, you let a sista get one semester of psychology under her belt and she thinks she can cure the problems of the world,” Monica laughed.
“Whatever.. .I was just trying to help girlfriend out a little. This is supposed to be her night you know and instead of comin’ in hear singin’
Joyful Joyful
or
Oh, Happy Day
she comes in lookin’ like someone died and forget to include her in the will. I was just tryin’ to lift her spirits a little,” Stacy replied.
“Let me guess? Chad again?” said Monica.
“Who else? That fool could fuck up a wet dream at the Playboy mansion.”
“Damn! I knew there was something wrong. What did that asshole do now?” Monica asked.
“Same ol’ same ol’. Sylvia said he was supposed to pick her up at her dorm an hour ago and she ain’t seen the boy yet.”
“And she ain’t going to. He’s wit’ that lil’ freshman with the J Lo ass and real cute smile that lives right under me. Saw them going up to her room when I was getting off the elevator.” Monica stated matter-of-factly.
“Uh uh.” Stacy was shocked. “Did he speak?”
“Of course he spoke. He always speaks. He doesn’t care. Hell, but then why not speak. Everybody in the dorm knows he’s been seein’ her. That’s common knowledge. Chad’s been hittin’ that thing all semester. Shit, he’s been up there so much that her neighbors nicknamed him ‘the chef.’”
“Uh uh! Please tell me you’re lying. Why do they call him that anyway?” Stacy asked.
“Would you lower your voice. You know Sylvia’s in the next room,” Stacy whispered
“But anyway, from what nosy-ass Annette and Sheila tell me, they can hear everything being that their right next door and the walls are so thin. And the way they tell it, it must be Miss Thang’s first time getting some ‘cause they say they can hear her hollerin’ anytime Chad gets ta workin’ that thang. And from what I hear she’s down for everything. Said she’s even gotten to the point that she’s instructin’ Chad each and every step of the way now.”
“But you still haven’t told me why they call him the ‘chef’,” Stacy added as she rubbed the blush into the young woman’s cheeks.
“Will you hush! You know Sylvia’s in the next room and you’re all loud and shit,” whispered Monica. “Now hush and I’ll tell you.”
“Okay, okay. Go ahead.”
“Well, from what Annette tells me, they gave Chad the nickname, ‘the chef’ because they say he’s steady servin’ up sista girl a new dish every week.
Annette said that on some nights he just stops by for five or ten minutes and gives her a little appetizer. Then at other times he tosses that poor girl’s salad like there ain’t no tomorrow. Said she loves it too. Annette said those are the nights the whole floor can hear her yellin’ just beggin’ him for more. Said she one time she stood right there in the hall half-naked and cried ‘cause he didn’t finish. I’m talkin’ real tears too, girl.
Then they say there’s other nights when he’s got a little more time on his hands and brings her to a slow simmer before makin’ the cream rise to the top. But they say the days they
really
hear her is on those weekends when Sill goes home. They say that’s when he really gets ta cookin’ and pulls out all the stops. Say he shakes it and bakes it and gets to blendin’ it just right before he brings the whole damn thing to a boil with her screamin’ and hollerin’ and tellin’ everybody all the secret ingredients and then when it’s over and it cools, they say he chows down,” Stacy said laughing hysterically.
“Oh, get the hell out of here. I know you’re not saying what I think you’re saying? You know sometimes I have to wonder why I listen to your crazy ass at all,” Monica replied.
“I don’t know how true it is ‘cause Annette’s a freak herself and probably has her ear pressed to the wall but ya gotta admit, it’s funny and it sounds good and if you know Chad then you know anything’s possible ‘cause he ain’t worth his weight in.. .So, it could very well be true. But there’s one thing I do know.
He does spend an awful lot more time with her than he does Sill. That I do know. What I really don’t understand is why she even bothers dealin’ with his shit but then I guess we’ve all done the same thing at one time or another.”
“No doubt. But you know, I can feel the tide changin’, Stace. And who knows tonight may be the beginning of something new for all of us. The three of us have been together for four long years and none of us has met a man yet we’d wanna write home about.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Monica replied.
“Never know though. Like I said, tonight may be the start of something new for all of us.”
“That’s wishful thinkin’ but I ain’t even thinkin’ about men tonight. This is our night. This is the night we celebrate four years of having the top sorority and the largest chapter in school history and nobody else can take responsibility for that but us. You, me and Sill. When we came on campus what did they have? Four members. Now what are we lookin’ at? Close to a hundred members and fourteen more on line. We did that. We accomplished that shit. And we accomplished it without a single man’s assistance. Now there’s definitely somethin’ to say about that. Who needs ‘em. We can just as well do without ‘em and all the drama an bullshit they bring to the table.”
“HELLO!”
Monica shouted. “Wait a minute, now. I feel everything you’re sayin’ but let’s not get carried away. The brothas do have their usefulness.”
Hearing all the yelling and commotion, Sylvia came running from the living room.
“Damn, I thought something was wrong,” Sylvia said staring at her sorors.
“No, ain’t nothin’ wrong, Sill. How could anything be wrong on a night like this? In fact, things couldn’t be much better especially with you being voted in for the fourth straight time. And who deserves the credit? Hello. None other than your campaign manager and brain trust. Thank you very much,” Stacy said grinning.
“Yeah yeah! Here she goes pattin’ herself on the back again, Monica.
“I know. She’s so busy tootin’ her own horn that by the time she gets finished makin’ doin’ my hair the party will be over.”
“Girl please! You ain’t worried about nothin’ but tryin’ to get there before someone else steals your man,” Stacy laughed.
“What man? Don’t tell me you’re still tryna push up on Zach. Girl you need to give that up. There’s a line a mile long in front of you. Especially since they say the boy’s going in the top ten of the NFL draft,” Sill said feigning a smile.
“That’s alright. You know what they say about the cream always risin’ to the top. When he comes to his senses he’ll recognize the fact that he’s not going to do much better than moi.” Monica replied.
“Whatever. I’m in no shape to say anything with that sorry man I’m stuck with. I just wish you more luck than I had with this piece of shit. But anyway, I’m going to go on ahead since I’m supposed to be the guest of honor or whatever and you two look like you’re going to be here awhile,” Sill said closing the bathroom door on her way out.
“Alright Sill, I’ll be there as soon as I figure out how to fix this child’s face. Ain’t enough L’Oreal in the world to help her but she insists on me working miracles. Anyway, we’ll be there in a few. Save us a plate,” Stacy yelled.
“And a man,” screamed Monica. “You know how I like ‘em, Sill.”
“Yeah, with all there limbs,” Sill yelled back.
“Well, that’s not a lot to ask, now is it?” Monica laughed.
“Don’t take much does it?” Stacy said as the two women waited to hear the door close and bolt lock fasten into place.
“She seems awfully down doesn’t she, Stace?”
“Wouldn’t you be if you were in her situation? This is supposed to be her night and that stupid ass wannabe playa should be by her side, but no. Oh, the hell with Chad. He doesn’t deserve this much conversation. What we need to do is make Sill’s night a night to remember? After all, she’s the first sista ever to be elected president four times in a row in the history of the chapter and besides that, you couldn’t ask for a better friend. Sill’s the shit but just because she’s a little odd and ain’t out there, this motherfucker ain’t tryna give her no respect but let’s make it a night she’ll never forget. Sylvia didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there in the living room thinking, waiting for Chad to show up.
The least he could have done was call. Picking up the phone, she tried calling his dorm room again. Still no answer, Sylvia said goodbye to Stacy and Monica, grabbed her jean jacket and headed for the door.
Little whore is probably running the streets or up in one of the girl’s dorms, chasing some little freshman that don’t know no better. Sylvia thought about checking Van Sykes Hall, the girls’ dorm adjacent to her own and one of Chad’s favorite hangouts, then decided against it. If she found him, all hunkered up with some female then what? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Besides, he’d just lie like he always did and after a week of not speaking, she’d end up taking him back until he did it again.
She kept telling herself that she didn’t need this madness but in the end she always took him back despite the rumors and the snickering. Even those closest to her, her own sorority sisters, had spoken to her from time to time about Chad and his midnight rendezvous. How many times had they mentioned the fact that they’d seen Chad sneaking out of one of their dorms, shirttail hanging out of his pants, hair undone in the wee hours of the morning? It was nothing new. It was just the way he was. What she couldn’t understand was why she stuck with him. They’d been together ever since they were sophomores and she had lost count of the times he had cheated on her.
Every time there was a new freshman class, he felt compelled to conduct the welcoming tour, which was comprised of him showing her the campus and she showing him her—.
Angry and oblivious to the world, Sylvia crossed the lush lawns of Tech’s campus. On several occasions, she was sure she heard her name being yelled from a dorm window or from across the street. But not once did she turn around to see who was calling her. Brothers she had class with or who were simply trying to hit on her from time to time spoke in passing but she ignored them for the most part.
“Stuck up bitch,” one of them remarked, as she passed.
It was starting to drizzle. Sylvia donned her pink and green, AKA umbrella and made her way past the crowd of young men who stood crowded under the eave of Smith Hall. She cringed at the thought of what was to happen next.
After four years, she still hated walking past the guys’ dorm. The lewd remarks were bad enough when it was just one or two guys but they seemed to grow in intensity when they were in a crowd, showing off for each other. Surprisingly enough, they were not quite as obnoxious as they usually were. She thanked her lucky stars that she was at the tiny girls’ college across the street. At least there, she wasn’t subjected to this on a daily basis.
As the drizzle began to pelt the pink and green umbrella harder, Sylvia picked up her pace hoping to hit the student union before it came down in buckets. She wondered if Chad were downstairs in the lobby of her dorm waiting for her or calling her room. One thing was for sure. Wherever he was, she was sure
he
damn sure wasn’t getting wet. That little bastard had probably forgotten all about their date, the party, and her being sworn in as president of her sorority. Sure, it was her third time being elected to the post but if it meant something to her, he could have at least shown some empathy, some damn concern and escorted her. The more Sylvia thought about Chad, the angrier she became.
