A Good Dude (3 page)

Read A Good Dude Online

Authors: Keith Thomas Walker

Rilla told her that when it was determined they were a serious couple, and Candace said it was cool, but she never got used to it. She watched him now and a sneer marred her delicate features. An older woman wearing capris and a see-through blouse was getting a lot of one
-
on-one time. She pushed up on Candace’s man, rubbing her old lady titties all over his chest.

Candace shook her head and then stood and went to the restroom. When she got back, Rilla was waiting for her.

“You ready?” he asked.

“You through?” Candace asked with a hint of attitude.

Rilla smiled. “That bitch was wild, huh?”

“She’s old enough to be your mother,” Candace replied.

Rilla’s smile got bigger. The scant light caught his platinum grill, and Candace thought he looked majestic. For the show, he wore a huge Kobe Bryant jersey with dark blue jeans. He wore Polo boots and a bracelet tricked out with Lucky Charms. The only thing missing was his huge necklace, but that chain was property of his old record label.

“You know I don’t want nobody but you,” Rilla said, and Candace did know that. In the eight months they’d been together, she never heard rumors about his infidelity. Things might have been different if his career was successful, but Rilla was stable now. He and Candace had a home together. They had dreams together.

“You got lipstick on your face,” Candace said. She found a napkin in her purse and wiped it away.

Rilla leaned back against a table. He grabbed Candace’s hips and pulled her close. “Let me get some of yo lipstick now.”

Candace smiled. “I wear lip
gloss
.”

Rilla wrapped his hands around her buttocks and squeezed affectionately. “Well, let me get some of yo lip gloss then.”

He kissed her and embraced her in a full body hug. “You looked good up there tonight,” Candace said. “Yeah? I messed up that one part in ‘Mama Canales.’ ”

“I know,” Candace said, “but nobody noticed.”


You
noticed.”

“I hear
everything,”
she said. “I can’t believe you can’t get signed.” Candace regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. Rilla’s arms grew stiff around her. His smile faded.

“I’ma get signed,” he said.

“I know you will, baby.”

They smoked a blunt on the way home. Once there, Rilla took a shower while Candace put rollers on and stuffed her hair under a shower cap. They had a one-bedroom apartment. It was so small, you could stand in the hallway and see the whole place if you turned around a few times. Rilla sang Teddy Pendergrass as he bathed:


To be loved, and be loved in return, is the only thing that my heart desires
. What you know about that, shorty?”

“Huh?”

“I say what you know about that
Teddy P
?”

“Who’s Teddy P?”

“Yeah. That’s what I figured. Bet you don’t know nothing about no Marvin Gaye, either.”

“I do know Marvin Gaye,” Candace said as she undressed.

“Yeah? What you know about him?”

“I know he got shot by his daddy.”

“That’s just like a nigga to remember only the bad stuff. What about his music? Did you like any songs?”

“Didn’t he sing ‘Let’s Get It On’?”

“Yeah. That’s my boy. What ‘bout Sam Cooke?”

“Quit trying to act like you all old,” Candace said. “You’re only twenty-five. You don’t know all them people.”

“Who say I don’t?”


I
say you don’t.”

“Check this out,” Rilla said, and then went into an impromptu karaoke performance. He was a nice singer, but Candace had never heard him sound so good, so deep and soulful.

Candace was speechless. She opened the shower curtain and slipped inside. Rilla turned to face her and marvel at her nakedness. Candace marveled, too. Rilla had never been to prison, but he had the muscular features of an Aztec warrior. He had the name of his old record label tattooed on one side of his chest, and
RILLA TIME
scrolled across the other side. He had
817 SCC
, the name of his old gang, tatted on his forearm.

Candace took the washcloth from him and wrapped it around a bar of soap. “I didn’t know you could sing,” she said and lathered up his chest.

“Yes, you did.”

“You never sang like
that
before.”

“I never sang Sam Cooke for you.”

“You know some more Sam Cooke?”

Rilla smiled. His grill was gone now, and Candace was glad for that.

“How about this,” he said. “It’s old. Like Frankie Lymon old, but I still like it.”

Candace didn’t spoil the mood by telling him she had no idea who Frankie Lymon was.

Rilla put his hands on her hips and looked into her eyes. He softly crooned the words to an old song Candace had never heard before.

Again Candace was dumbfounded. This was the same guy who sold crack on the corner and penned catchy lyrics like,
Tell yo old-ass mama to stay out my business / Or I’ma kill yo little brother and rape your sister when I’m finished.

“That was beautiful,” she said.

“You liked it?”

“Yeah. I never heard it before.”

“We can look it up on YouTube later if you wanna hear how it really goes.”

“No, I liked it just like that,” Candace said. “That was perfect.”

* * *

 

In the bedroom, she tried to put on a pair of boxer shorts, but Rilla told her not to. She sat on the bed instead with her hands in her lap. Rilla stood between her legs.

“Scoot back,” he told her.

Candace inched back on the mattress, trying to keep her legs together.

“You uncomfortable around me?” Rilla asked. “No,” she said. “Not really.”

“Ain’t nothing wrong with being naked,” he said.

Candace took in his nude physique, her eyes settling on the limp snake between his legs. “No, there’s nothing wrong with that,” she agreed.

Rilla looked down at her and grinned. “Open your legs,” he instructed.

“Why?”

“I wanna look at you.”

“You’re looking at me now.”

“No, I want to look at you
down there
.”

She thought that odd, but did as she was told.

Rilla licked his lips, and that set off a fire in Candace’s chest.

“Hey,” she said.

“What’s up, girl?”

“I’m a
tasty lady
,” she announced with a wicked smile.

“Oh, yeah?” Rilla climbed onto the bed on all fours like a gorilla. He stopped when his head hovered over her belly. “How do
I
know that?”

Candace lay back and stretched her arms out. “I guess you have to taste.”

Rilla lay flat on his stomach, and ducked his head for a sample. His tongue was warm and wet. Candace thought she could feel every taste bud as he licked her. When he came back up, he was the one with lip gloss.

“You are pretty tasty,” he agreed.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think you got a good enough taste.”

“Why you say that?”

“Cause your nose is still dry.”

Rilla chuckled and went back for seconds. He could bring her to a climax immediately if he wanted to, but sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he licked and teased and pleased her for minute after wonderful minute.

Tonight the foreplay went on through two songs on the radio. When Rilla finally got on top, Candace could barely open her legs for him; they were shaking so badly. She only had two previous partners, and Rilla was by far the largest. When they first met there was a lot of pain involved in lovemaking, but now things fit perfectly.

Rilla was like a missing part of her own body.

When he was inside her, nothing felt more right.

She stared into his eyes and traced her fingers down his spine. At some point, these fingers became claws, inflicting light scratches that would be visible in the morning.

* * *

 

A knock at the door woke Candace, but not her boyfriend. She sat up and shaded her eyes from the light peeking through the curtains. It was already eight-thirty in the morning. She threw her legs over the bed and groggily dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt.

Rilla sold drugs, but his customers rarely came by the house. Candace couldn’t think of anyone else who would visit this early, so she shook Rilla’s arm before she left the room.

“Uh-huh?”

“Somebody’s at the door.”

“Who? Who is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s eight-thirty.”

He sat up quickly as if a firecracker went off in the room. “Shit! That’s CC. I gotta go.”

CC was Rilla’s closest friend. They grew up together in Overbrook Meadows, attending the same middle and high school. They both dropped out around the same time and went into crack sales as a joint venture. When Rilla’s rap fantasy became a reality, he left his best homey for a few years. When Rilla got dropped from his label and had to come home, CC was still there doing the same thing. Rilla got back in the game as if he’d never missed a beat.

“I kept them rocks warm for you,” CC was fond of saying.

Candace didn’t dislike CC, but he was definitely not one of her favorite people. She blamed him for Rilla’s lackluster efforts to get his music career back on track. She didn’t think Rilla would ever be hungry enough to give rap his all as long as he had a pocket full of dope and dope money.

“Why is he here so early?” she asked.

Rilla was out of bed now, looking for his pants. “He taking me to meet a new connection. I’m late. Let him in for me.”

“What about your CD?” Candace asked. “I thought you were going to work on a mixtape today.”

“I’ll do it later. Let CC in.”

Candace left the room and grudgingly made her way to the front door. CC was knocking again when she opened it.

“Calm down,” she told him.

CC stepped by her without so much as a
hello
. “Where my nigga at?” he asked.

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