“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, finally lifting his head. “Damn, you look like shit. What the hell happened to your face?” Joe put down his fork and inspected my bruised face.
“Man, I should’ve never listened to your ass and went up to see that girl.”
“So you went up to Richmond last night, huh?” I nodded and he continued. “I take it things didn’t go so well. What’d she do, slap the shit out of you again?” Joe laughed, but I didn’t think a damn thing was funny.
I’d gone up to Jasmine’s place last night with the intention of mending things between us. I’d been trying to get in touch with her all week, but she’d changed her home phone number and her cell phone number. And when I tried to contact her at the post office, they refused to forward my calls to her office.
I’d been going crazy trying to get in touch with her. I knew I could make her understand that my kiss with Monica meant nothing. I just had to get her to listen to what I had to say. We’d been so close to making things work between us. I just wanted another chance at that. As far as I was concerned, Monica and the baby were just a little bump in the road. Well, maybe a big bump in the road, but we could still work it out. All Jasmine had to do was listen to me. By Friday I was really starting to get depressed, so Joe suggested that I go up to see her in person. He said if I showed up with a dozen roses in hand, she’d at least have to listen to what I had to say. Unfortunately, when I got there the only words I got to speak to her were from the ground. And they were a plea for help.
“So what the hell happened up there, anyway?” Joe asked, snapping me back to the present.
“Derrick is what happened,” I told him.
“Derrick, Derrick,” Joe repeated like he was trying to remember something. “Oh, you mean her boyfriend? I thought he wasn’t coming home for a couple o’ months.”
“That’s what I thought. As you can see, we were both wrong. He and his boys jumped me last night.” I lifted my shirt so he could see the bruises that covered most of my body.
“Damn! You want me to call up a few of the fellas? We can go up there and pay this Derrick a little visit if you want.”
I took a deep breath. Joe’s suggestion was tempting, but not anything I hadn’t thought about for most of the ride home last night. After Sabrina helped me into my car, I only had one thing on my mind: I wanted revenge so bad I could taste it. But the closer I got to Petersburg, the more I realized that it wasn’t Derrick’s fault at all. It was Jasmine’s fault. I would never have gone to her place if I had known Derrick was out of prison. All she had to do was answer one of my calls.
Derrick must’ve been outside with a few of his boys when I pulled into the complex. There’s always somebody hanging out in her parking lot, so I didn’t pay any attention to them. I was too busy noticing all the cars that were parked around the place. There was definitely someone throwing one hell of a party. And from the blaring music and people around her apartment, it was clear Jasmine was that someone.
I have to admit, I felt left out when I heard all the laughter coming from her place. A week before, I would’ve been right there, partying with them. Now it seemed like she was getting over me a hell of a lot faster than I was getting over her.
That’s why I decided to write a note instead of knocking on the door. The last thing I wanted was to walk in on her party uninvited. There’s no better way to make a fool outta yourself than to crash a party and then be asked to leave. I wasn’t about to risk that kind of humiliation.
So I sat in my car and wrote her a note. I asked her to please give me a chance to explain and to give us a chance at happiness. I planned to leave it with a rose on her windshield, so I picked up the flower and headed to her car. That was when the trouble started. When I reached her car, the door was unlocked like it always was. She had a bad habit of leaving her car door open, but I’d been trying to break her of that habit Not too long ago, she had bought a new car stereo, and I knew she would’ve been pissed if it was stolen like the last one. So I opened the car door to lock it for her. Big mistake.
“What the fuck you doing in my car, nigga?” I didn’t recognize the voice, but when I turned around I damn sure recognized the face. I’d seen it in dozens of pictures scattered throughout Jasmine’s apartment. It was Derrick. Only he wasn’t supposed to be out for at least two months.
“I asked you a question, nigga. What the fuck you doing in my car?”
“Yo, man. Take it easy.” Luckily, it was dark enough that Derrick didn’t see me toss the rose and stuff the note in my pocket. I held my hands up and stepped back from the car. “I was just locking your car doors. That’s all.” I smiled, trying to look cool, but I know I looked nervous. I could take Derrick in a fight. Of that I was confident. But his three friend, they were a different story. Those three brothers were huge, and the 40s in their hands could be turned into some serious weapons. If I was gonna survive, diplomacy was probably my best option.
“Is that so?’ Derrick laughed, and they moved in closer.
“Yeah, I was just locking your door. It looks like you got an expensive stereo in there. Can’t be too safe these days. You never know who’s gonna try and rip you off.” I patted the car.
He laughed again.
“Did you hear this, y‘all?” Derrick looked back at his friends. “He was locking my car ’cause he was worried about someone ripping me off.” They all laughed as they moved in closer. “Damn, that’s nice of you, brotha. And to think I thought
you
was gonna rob me of that stereo.”
“Who, me? Nah. I wouldn’t do that.” I shook my head nervously as I scanned the area for an escape route.
“I bet you wouldn’t. Why don’t you let me thank you properly?” He raised his fist, but I was ready for it. Before he could connect, I hit him as hard as I could right in the stomach. I didn’t get in a second blow, though, ’cause his friends were on me like white on rice. The next thing I knew, I was being stomped and kicked by all four of them. If it wasn’t for Jasmine’s friend Sabrina, I’d probably be in intensive care right about now.
“Yo, Dylan, you want me to make that call to the fellas, or what?” Joe asked again.
“Nah,” I exhaled. “Leave him alone.”
“Now that’s a first.” Joe looked skeptical. “You’re gonna let someone get away with jumpin’ you without putting up a fight?”
“Only because he didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done.”
“What are you talking about? The guy kicked your ass for no reason.”
“Oh, he had a reason....” I began to explain the situation to Joe, and when I was done, not only did he understand, he agreed we should leave Derrick alone.
“Damn, I thought Jasmine was smarter than this. All she had to do was call and tell you he was home.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“You know, you’re a bigger man than I thought you were, Dylan. I woulda bet money that you’d be up all night plotting and scheming like you did with Jordan.” Joe sat back in his chair and finished the last of his coffee.
“No, Jordan was different. He knew Monica was my woman. Jasmine, it seems, was never mine. I was just borrowing her until Derrick came home.” I took a sip of the coffee that Joe had ordered for me. “Besides, I had other things on my mind last night. Some very pleasurable things, I might add.” Joe studied my face, then broke out in a big grin.
“You tryin’ to tell me, after all this shit, you got some ass last night?” He laughed.
“Yeah” I couldn’t contain my pride.
“How the hell’d you do that with all those bruises?” Joe stared at me in amazement.
“Oh, very gingerly,” I grinned. “Very gingerly. She did all the work.”
Joe laughed. “You are crazy.”
“You’ll never believe who it was.”
Joe stared at me like he was tryin’ to read my mind. Then, all of a sudden his eyes got big.
“Oh, shit. I know who it is. You dirty dog. You got with Jasmine’s friend Sabrina, didn’t you? Didn’t you? Damn, I know she got some good-ass booty. Fine as she is.” Joe stuck out his hand, but I left him hanging.
“Nah, man. I ain’t mess with Sabrina. I’m mad at Jasmine, but I ain’t that damn mad. Those two are like sisters.”
“Then who?” Joe leaned forward.
“Let’s put it this way: she’s having my baby.”
“What? Oh, shit. Not Monica. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking with Monica again.” Joe’s grin turned sour and he lowered his head. “Damn it, Dylan. What the hell were you thinking about?”
“What was I thinking about? You actin’ like I was fucking your sister. This is my ex-girlfriend we’re talking about, Joe. I went with her for six years. Don’t act like you never thought there was a chance we might get back together. Especially since she’s having my baby.”
“No, I didn’t. I thought you were stronger than that. And how the hell do you know that’s your baby, anyway? Did you have a blood test? No!” He was really mad. “Don’t be tellin’ nobody that’s your baby, Dylan. You hear me?”
“Why not?”
Joe hesitated. I knew that look on his face. He wanted to tell me something, but he was afraid I might not like what he had to say. We’d had our wars over the years when it came to Monica. And I knew he didn’t especially like her, but true friends never let a woman come between them. So right now I wasn’t worried about him hurting my feelings. I needed to know if he had some information.
“Why, Joe? Why don’t you want me to claim the baby?”
He inhaled deeply before he spoke. “’Cause Monica’s a
crackhead
, that’s why. There’s no telling whose baby that is.”
“A crackhead? Monica ain’t no crackhead.” I almost laughed at him as I leaned back in my seat. Usually, Joe’s information was good, but this was so far off base, he must’ve gotten his stories confused.
“Yeah, she is,” Joe insisted. “That’s the real reason Jordan kicked her out. Not that bullshit she told you about the baby not being his. It’s because she was smoking that shit. Man, that brother got three kids. He ain’t had no vasectomy.”
“Who told you that bullshit, Joe? Monica ain’t no damn crackhead. I’ve been hanging with her all week and she damn sure don’t act like no crackhead. Now, she’s an arrogant ass, I’ll give you that, and she can definitely be a bitch. But a crackhead? No, I think you have the wrong woman.”
Joe exhaled loudly. “How does a crackhead act, Dylan?”
“They steal money and appliances and shit. And they all skinny like that Robin chick they call ‘Creature Feature.’ Monica ain’t stolen nothing from me.”
“Look, all I’m tellin’ you is that my man George seen her coming out the spot on East Washington Street. If it’ll make you feel better, maybe she’s not a crackhead Maybe she’s just a casual user. But let’s get one thing straight, my friend. If she’s coming out the spot, she had to go in there for something. Unless she got a job as a cop or a social worker, she went in there to buy crack.”
I wanted to call him a liar. I wanted to tell him he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. But in our seven years of friendship, Joe’s information had almost always been on the mark. And he did look pretty damn determined to convince me this time. Not only that, but an image of Monica snorting coke in Jordan’s living room invaded my memory. I didn’t wanna tell Joe, but it
was
possible that she had graduated from snorting coke to smoking crack. I hated to even entertain the idea, but I had to at least talk to her about it. Especially since she was moving her shit into my place as we spoke.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I just found out yesterday. You weren’t with her. You were chasing behind Jasmine, so I didn’t think it was urgent. I was gonna tell you this morning until you came in lookin’ so fucked up.”
“I’m not gonna front with you, Joe. I don’t think she’s using crack. But I’m gonna go talk to her about it. ’Cause if on the off chance you’re right, that shit could be affecting my baby’s health. And I do mean
my
baby.”
“Ah’ight. I can respect that,” Joe told me quietly. “I just hope you know I wouldn’t tell you this shit if I didn’t love you.”
“I know that.” I stuck my hand out and he grasped it. “I gotta go take care of this. I can’t paint Mom’s house today. Tell her I’m sorry, but somethin’ personal came up.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of Ma. You go handle your business.”
“Thanks, Joe. Breakfast is on me.” I reached in my pocket and pulled out my wallet. My heart sank when I realized there was no money in it. Well, at least not as much as I thought.
“What’s wrong?”
“I had eighty-five dollars in my wallet last night. Now I only have five, but I ain’t spent no money.” Joe and I stared at each other. I’m sure he was having the same thoughts as I was.
“Man,” he said, “now you really got to go home and handle your business.”
It seemed like it took forever to get home from Shoney’s. Then again, that might have had something to do with the fact that I took the long way home, trying to get my head together for the confrontation I was gonna have with Monica. I kept repeating Joe’s accusations in my mind. I really didn’t warn to believe Monica was doing drugs, but the evidence was staring me right in the face when I opened my wallet. As I drove home, I wracked my brain. Maybe I was so delirious after the fight with Derrick that I spent the money and just didn’t remember it. I was hoping Monica would have some type of logical explanation for being seen near a crack house.