Authors: James Henderson
He imagined himself in the hospital, burned head to toe, his skin shiny with butter or whatever the hell doctors applied to burn victims.
The doorbell rang. He got up and tiptoed to the front door and looked in the peephole. Darlene. He opened the door wide. Darlene gasped and stepped back. “Come on in, Darlene,” he invited, smiling.
Darlene looked stricken, not knowing where to rest her eyes. “I-I-I….” She quickly turned and skipped down the four steps, dismissively flipping her hand. “You should be ashamed
,” she said.
“Ashamed!”
Eric scoped the neighborhood. No one in sight except Mr. Joyner sitting on his porch.
He stepped outside. “What you come over here for? You know Shirley gone.”
She stopped, turned, flipped her braids back with a long fingernail and said, “For your bee’s wax, I came to give you a message.” Not once did she look at him, choosing to stare up at the sun, blazing hot and bright. “I’m going to tell Shirley what you doing.”
“Tell it, smell it, go downtown and sell it! What message?”
“Duane called and told me to tell you Sheriff Bledsoe is looking for you.”
“Looking for me. For what?”
Darlene turned on her heels, braids fanning out behind her, and started toward her mobile home, only a few yards away.
In her doorway she stopped and looked him straight in the eye, a big smile on her face. “What rhymes with attempted rape?” she said, and slammed the door.
Eric went inside mumbling to himself, “Tempted fate…jail bait…
suicide date…What the hell she
talking about?”
Ruth Ann!
Sheriff Bledsoe thought he’d attempted to…He couldn’t finish the thought; the words were too ridiculous to associate with his name.
Eric Barnes and attempted rape in the same sentence--Ha! Women attacked him, not the other way around. Everyone knew that. Everyone except Sheriff Bledsoe, or he wouldn’t be looking for him.
In the bedroom he put on khaki shorts and a blue shirt. He checked his billfold. Two dollars. No better time than now to go to Little Rock and visit Uncle June. Stay a week or two.
What if Shirley got her share of the money while he was piddling around in Little Rock? She might put her ass in a bag, claim he deserted her and not give him a dime. With women you really needed to be there during the pivotal period, the interval between check deposited and check cleared.
Another disastrous possibility came to mind: Shirley finding out about him and Ruth Ann. He gulped.
Shit!
If that happened, not only would he lose a chance at the big money, he would have to change his name to Eric Burns.
A long while he sat on the bed, chewing his thumb. Finally the answer struck him. “Yeah!”
He would call Ruth Ann and demand she set the record straight. If she refused, he would threaten to tell Lester and Shirley everything--the cheap motels, the fantastic oral sex, the little trick she did with ice cubes.
Everythang!
He slid his feet into sandals and hurried next door to Darlene’s to use the phone.
“Hell no!” Darlene said, shaking her head. “You must think I’m a lollipop, a reusable sucker. I politely came over and delivered you a message, something I didn’t have to do, and you opened the door naked. Before that I needed to gain some weight. ‘Narrow-ass, don’t come back to my house no more.’ Go use somebody else’s phone.”
“Aw girl, you know I was just joking with you. Go get the phone and stop playing.” He showed her his best smile. “If you don’t I’ll tell Shirley how I really feel about you.”
She slammed the door
in his face. He was taking
the steps when the door opened again.
“Here,” Darlene said, putting the phone on the porch. “Use it out here. Don’t make a long distance call on my phone.”
“Is Jamaica long distance?” She slammed the door again.
Ruth Ann’s phone rang and rang. He wondered if she had also gone to the jail.
He started to hang up when someone answered. “Hello.” A man’s voice.
In falsetto voice, Eric said, “Is Mrs. Ruth Ann there? Can she come to the phone?”
“Who is this?”
Before Eric could respond, Paul
rode up on his bike. “Daddy, can I ride my bike to the store?”
Eric covered the mouthpiece: “I don’t give a damn!” Resuming falsetto voice: “Linda.”
“She’s not here. Would you like to leave a--wait a minute, that’s probably her coming in now. Hold on for a sec, I’ll go see.”
Lester, Eric thought, what a wimp. “Hey, Lester, what gives good head and has a mole on her tail? Got you stumped, Hot Lips? Here’s another clue, the answer rhymes with
your wife
.” He laughed.
“Hello,” Ruth Ann said.
“It’s me, Eric.”
“Oh, Linda. What a surprise. How you doing?”
“You need to call Sheriff Bledsoe and set him straight. Today. Right now!”
“Girl, you don’t know how surprised I am to hear from you. It’s a shock, I tell you, a real shock. I don’t know what to say.”
“What? Is Lester nearby?”
“You got that right. How’s your mother--”
“Tell Lester to move his ass!”
“--doing? Good. I’m glad to hear she’s doing fine.”
“I need to see you so we can straighten this--”
“No thanks.”
“Tell Lester go outside and play with hisself.”
“Girl, I couldn’t do that.” Eric heard a door shut in the background, then Ruth Ann said, “Why the fuck you calling my house?”
“Sheriff Bledsoe’s looking for me. He thinks I tried to rape you.”
“Not my problem,” and hung up. Eric called right back and she picked up on the first ring. “What is your problem? What is your problem? It’s over! Why can’t you understand that? It’s over. O-V-E-R! Understand? Stop calling my house!”
“Uh-huh. Guess I’ll tell Shirley and Lester about our little four-year fling. Wonder how Lester will react when I describe the birthmark on your yingying. You don’t think he might try to off hisself again, do you?” He paused to let that sink in.
Adopting Alex Trebek’s voice, he said, “Sorry, Lester, though you gave the correct answer to Who Gives The Best Head West of the Mississippi, you should’ve put the answer in the form of a question.
Who
Is Ruth Ann, my wife?”
“I will kill you, you sick sonofabitch!” Ruth Ann hissed. “I swear I will!”
“Yeah, I know you will. Let’s not forget Shirley. You remember her, don’t you? You have any idea how much she looks up to you? Always talking Ruth Ann did this, Ruth Ann did that. She wants to lose weight and be just like you one day.
Skinny and scandalous.
It’ll break her heart when I tell her the skills dear Ruthie has with a string of beads.”
Ruth Ann laughed. “You’re so full of shit…so full of shit! You had me going with the threat to tell Lester. You and I both know you’re not telling Shirley a damn thing. You do and she’ll stomp your ass a hole in the ground.”
This wasn’t going as he
expected. Yes, she was right, no way in this lifetime would he tell Shirley a word of him and another woman. He tried to think of a snotty rejoinder. “Uh…”
“Listen, Eric. You leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone. This is not necessary.”
“Are you going to call Sheriff Bledsoe and clear my name?”
“I’ll call him. But don’t ever call here again! Is that understood?”
“No problem. Just one more thing…meet me at the motel one last time. Please! Meet me one last time.”
“Are you crazy? Seriously, are you crazy? I said it was over and you can’t comprehend the fact. It’s over, Eric. Get it through your thick head!”
Just then Shirley drove Darlene’s car into the yard. “Gotta go,” he said, and hung up.
“Who were you talking to?” Shirley asked.
“I was trying to get hold of Sheriff Bledsoe. What happened with your mother?”
Darlene stepped outside. “Shirley, is everything all right?”
Shirley walked up the steps and handed her the keys. “Thanks, Darlene. Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Tell me about it,” Eric said. “Tell me about it now. Is she charged with murder? Not that I want her to be--you know we need the money.”
Shirley and Darlene both gave him a look. They stepped inside and once again Darlene slammed the door in his face.
Chapter 11
Leonard and his mother sat opposite each other at the kitchen table, a half-eaten apple pie between them.
“It’s for the best,” Leonard said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “They’ll only serve as a painful reminder. I also think we should sell the truck.”
Ida groaned. “Your daddy loved his truck. Each morning he got up at five o’clock and washed it, even when it was raining.” She sighed. “His clothes, I don’t think he could stand someone wearing them.”
“Mother…Daddy is…”
What’s the right word here?
“He’s at rest. He wouldn’t want you keeping his stuff when doing so caused you more sorrow. Trust me, okay? I’ll handle everything.”
Ida looked at him through puffy, red eyes. “I…” she started, couldn’t finish.
Leonard crossed to her and hugged her. “This will pass, Mother. It’ll pass in time.” He held her for a while. “Come on, let’s go into the living room and watch something funny.” He helped her to her feet. “There’s a comedy show on BET I know you’ll like.”
“Is it on satellite?”
“No. Not in Chicago, it isn’t.”
“We don’t have satellite. Your daddy said cable is cheaper.” She sat on the couch and Leonard couldn’t tell if she or it sighed.
“Anything in particular you’d like to watch?”
Ida didn’t respond, just sat there staring blankly. He channel-surfed and stopped at an
Everybody
Hates Chris
rerun. “This is funny. Have you seen it?”
She shook her head. “Turn to
The Discovery Channel
. Your daddy loved to watch it.”
On
The Discovery Channel
, three lions chased a boar into a hole. “You sure you want to watch this?”
“Yes.” Leonard started to leave the room when she said, “I thought you were going to watch with me.”
“Yes, sure, Mother.”
The lions took turns inspecting the hole into which the boar escaped. Then, squealing for dear life, the boar shot out, only to be instantly pounced upon and seized by the throat by one of the lions. The feast began.