"Yeah, wanted to see if there was anything else you could squeeze outta our girl, right?" someone else interjected.
Clarke looked around. He wasn’t really afraid, thinking what’s the worse that could happen? It was a bunch of women after all. If he was forced, he’d go straight for the tits, start swinging and make a break. But for the moment, he was cool.
"Yeah, that’s a dog for you. When he finds a good spot to piss, he keeps coming back to piss some more," Menesha giggled.
Clarke looked around hoping to see Kelsa. He didn’t need this shit.
"Whaaat’s going on here?" he asked. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so shaky.
"Well, if you must know," the group parted enough for Kelsa to emerge. She had a roll of duct tape in her hands. "Everyone’s having a Pity Party for little ole’ me," she said with a grin. "Imagine the cause of my pain and embarrassment showing up, right on cue!" She winked with a wicked smile on her face.
"Let’s string his ass up!" someone yelled.
With his hands up in a defensive mode, Clarke stepped back. "Whoa! Hold up! Wait a minute here. Ain’t no need for anybody to get hurt. Let’s just chill out for a moment."
Before he could swing at a single breast, he was on the floor and hands were coming at him from all directions. Soon Clarke felt himself struggling to breathe. He wanted to tell someone that he couldn’t breathe and that they really needed to get off of him. But someone was sitting on his chest and when he opened his mouth to speak, the words wouldn’t come out.
Clarke couldn’t believe this shit. Maybe the cab driver would sense something was wrong and come to see about him. If only he could send a signal out to Kelsa that he was just here to talk and to try and work things out. But soon the music was back up again.
He told himself not to panic. He wasn’t sacred. These were just women, all women were loving and docile creatures. Most had a soft spot and wouldn’t hurt anybody. He should know, he left many hurt and heartbroken, and most of them still wanted him back.
He figured the best thing to do was to just let them have some fun, get out their frustration and then he and Kelsa would send everybody off and they could talk. And if she behaved right, he’d even consider tapping that ass. He knew she was long overdue, probably horny as hell.
But his chest, it almost felt like it was caving in. He wasn’t about to panic thouh, they’d get up soon. Besides, he couldn’t let them see him sweat.
A few minutes later, Clarke felt as though he was living a nightmare. His eyes fixed on the clock. He wondered if he’d been in the house for 20 minutes already. He wished for a way to call the cab driver in, to send a message of distress, but he knew that brotha was long gone and 50 dollars richer.
Later, sitting in a chair with his hands tied behind his back and each foot strapped to the legs of a chair, Clarke was in disbelief. And to make matters worse, his mouth had been taped shut. This, he finally decided, had gone way too far. He had had enough and he wanted somebody to release him. It wasn’t funny anymore.
At the moment, Kelsa was pacing back and forth in front of him.
"Made fun of me all those times, talking about doing a thangie smell check and so forth," she snickered. "When all along you had some skank ho right up under my nose, living in my own fucking house!" She slapped her chest. He’d never seen her so expressive.
"Umph, umph, umph, umph," someone chimed in.
Clarke didn’t have time for this mess. He couldn’t believe how these bitches had him strapped up like he was some kind of animal.
"Now whatchu gonna do, Clarke?" Menesha said. "Kelsa, didn’t you say you walked in on some chicken head sucking his dick?"
"Yeah, chica," Kelsa answered. "He’s got a thing for blowjobs. As a matter of fact, I want to say that exactly whee he is sitting may have been the exact spot he was getting his dick sucked! Yup! Right here in my fucking house, the house I pay for ‘cause his sorry-ass paycheck goes toward plants and flowers and shit like that."
"Wwwwhat?" another woman screamed. "Gurrrl, you better than me! I would’ve cut his dick off! Sliced it up then served it to him and his nasty-ass ho!"
"Sho’ nuf!" somebody screamed. Then they all started laughing and giving each other high-fives.
Shit! Clarke thought. He couldn’t believe they were talking about cutting his dick off. He started wriggling to free himself, but it did no good. He was strapped tightly to the chair. All he knew was that if these crazy bitches thought he was gonna sit here and be sliced to pieces, they had another thing coming. But no matter how much he wiggled, he couldn’t break free.
"Aw, look!" Menesha screamed, drawing everyone’s attention. "I think he’s nervous. Are those little sweat beads forming on his forehead?" Her laugh was mincing. She pranced over to the chair.
And to imagine, he had once thought about getting with her back in the day when Kelsa first brought her to their home and introduced them. It was after they’d both worked a double shift. He actually thought she was fine, even with that long ass weave she wears.
But now, after spending some time around her ignorant ass, he knew for sure that she was way too loud for him. All up in his face now. Oooooooooh, if only I could get my hands free. I’d slap the shit out of her ass.
"Kelsa, you notice how men start sweating when you start talking about cutting thangs off? Kind of remind you of that Loriana Babbitt!" Menesha taunted.
"Forget about Loriana. What about that Mexican woman? Remember, it was right here in Houston? She cut off her man’s thang then fed it to a damn dog!" someone chirped in.
"Oh yeah! She was the girl!" Menesha replied. "But I’ll bet he wasn’t sweating like this when that skank ho was on her knees sucking his dick. What y’all think?"
The cheering section went wild. Everybody was laughing, slapping high-fives, doing a few girlfriend snaps, and so forth. Clarke didn’t like the situation. He didn’t like how they were going on and on about him being a dog and talking about damaging his family jewels.
He needed them to keep things in perspective. He was very uncomfortable with this kind of talk.
But, trying to relax, he sighed a bit, because so far that’s all it was, talk, and he wanted it to stay that way. He had to remember not to roll his eyes and watch his facial expressions. He didn’t need to piss them off any more than they already were.
Just when he was about to relax and ride this thing through, his heart sank to his toes when he heard Kelsa say, "Let’s take off his pants and see if we can’t cut that thangie off. You know, since he ain’t shy about sharing it and all."
Dreadfully, Clarke closed his eyes as the cheers grew. obviously everyone agreed with that idea. Now he was scared.
~ Persha
Persha felt like some silly little teenager; knocked up, abandoned, and fat. But she wasn’t a teenager though. At the age of 33, she was from it. She couldn’t believe she’d allowed herself to get into this situation.
And for whom? It had been way past a month since she saw that worthless bastard, Clarke. Well, in her opinion, maybe worthless Bastard was a bit too steep.
She was trying to understand what he must’ve been going through. After all, he was about to have to fight for everything he had worked so hard to obtained. She thought about him possibly losing that beautiful house, his luxury car, and maybe even his prestigious position at the AD agency. Men don’t take things like that lightly.
If only she could get through to him. She wanted to let him know they could work this thing out. She’d wait until the divorce was final, but she still thought it would be a good idea for them to move in together.
Maybe instead of buying another condo they could put their money together and get a house. She had to find a way to appeal to his sensible side. Persha was watching Girlfriends on UPN, Urban People’s Network, as she and her friends referred to the network that showed more black sitcoms than any other. Just as she was getting into the show, the phone rang.
Her Caller ID showed her mother’s number and she was tempted not to answer. But then she figured that she might as well get used to the nagging calls. She had no intentions of severing ties with her mother. They were still all each other had.
"Hi Ma," Persha answered the phone.
"Persha, baby, are you okay?" her mother asked.
"Yes, I’m fine. Why do you ask?"
"You didn’t sound yourself, that’s all."
"No, Ma, I’m doing just fine." She smiled at one of the character’s antics.
"How’s the baby?"
"Huh? What’d you say?" Persha pushed mute on her remote and sat up.
"I asked how’s my grandchild doing? Despite what you think, I do care about you and my grandchild." Paula cleared her throat. "I know we don’t see eye to eye on lots of things, but I was kind of hoping we could get a fresh start and I think that’s what this baby represents for us both."
Persha listened as her mother went on about their fresh start. She looked at the clock and realized that she had been on the phone for nearly ten minutes with her mother and there had been no scripture quoting. This had to be a record, she thought.
"Lord knows," Paula paused. And Persha figured she’d spoken too soon. She braced herself for a religious reading. "Lord knows I haven’t been perfect. Maybe if I’d been honest about some of the things I went through you’d be on a different path today. You know I only wanted you to have more opportunities than me. When your father died, I knew the task ahead, and I was prepared to take on the challenge of being a single mother. Honey, fate dealt me that hand and I did the best I could. I may have wanted better for you, but just because you didn’t take the route I wanted you to, it doesn’t make me any less happy with the outcome."
By the time Paula paused a second time, Persha was in tears. That was the first time in years her mother had been so forthcoming. She wasn’t critical, and most importantly, she didn’t beat her up about her spirituality, or lack thereof.
"Persha, baby, you still there?" he mother said into he phone.
"Yeah, Ma, I am. I’m just, I can’t believe what you’re saying."
"Why? You know I’m still your mother no matter what. I will love you whether you’re a wife or a mistress. I may not agree with your choices, but that will never change my love for you. And don’t you ever doubt that. Now, with that done, I need to check for airline tickets."
"Airline tickets?" Persha asked, still sniffling.
"Chile, I’ve got to come see my grandbaby, and your worrisome auntie is already talking about pictures ‘cause she can’t picture you with child!"
They laughed. "Well Ma, the baby won’t be here for another five months. I think it’s a bit premature for visits don’t you?"
"Chile, hush your mouth. If I want to come see my babies, I can come whenever the good Lord carries me. I’ll be there next weekend."
"Really, Ma?" Persha started smiling and wiping her eyes.
"Just as soon as Southwest Airlines or the Greyhound in the sky, gives me the stamp of approval. I’m staying for a week. After that I’ll be back once a month until you have the baby."
"Oh, Ma, I love you! I can’t wait to see you. I’m gonna take a couple of days off so I can show you around Houston. You’ll like it here."
"I’ll like seeing you, but I sure hope you have an air conditioner there in that apartment of yours. I’ve been looking at the weather channel and, chile, everyday they’re talking about hot temperatures and humidity there."
Persha started laughing. "Yeah, Ma, most places out here come equipped with central air."
"Good. Well, let me go make my reservations. I’ll call you later with my flight information okay, baby?"
"Okay, Ma."
"Oh, and Persha?"
"Yes, Ma’am?"
"I’m still keeping you and the baby in my prayers ‘cause we all need as many blessings as we can possibly get."
"I know, Ma, and thanks. See you soon!"
Hours after the phone call, Persha still got chills when she thought about it. It had to be the very best conversation she and he mother had ever had. There wasn’t much that could change her good mood, she thought, as she leaned back in search of something to watch on TV.
The next day, Persha nearly floated into the office. Brenda noticed her new attitude right away.
"Oooohh chile, you sure look perky today. Must’ve got some good rest last night," Brenda guessed.
Persha turned to her and smiled. "Actually I did. I had a great evening."
"Is that man of yours finally acting right? I sure hope so. These men these days…boy I tell you."
"My good mood has nothing to do with a man and everything to do with my mother. As a matter of fact, I need Thursday and Friday of next week off and I’d like to invite you to a dinner party I’m throwing."
Brenda’s bushy eyebrows eased up a bit. She smiled and shook her head. "A party? I’m thrilled to death you’d think to ask me. Of course I’ll come, chile. What we celebrating?"
"We’re celebrating my mother. She’s flying in Saturday night and she’ll be here until the following Sunday."
Making a clapping motion like a thrilled child, Brenda smiled. "Yippe! I get to meet your mom too! That sounds wonderful. You want me to bring something? I make mac and cheese from scratch and folks just rant and rave about it. Or I could bring a cheesecake. I make that from scratch too."
"Hmmm, let’s see. I want mac and cheese, but," she touched her portly stomach and said, "this one might enjoy the cheesecake." She and Brenda both laughed.
"Well, cheesecake and mac and cheese it is!" she said. Brenda looked up. "And by the way, you can have those days you want off. And if you need any help getting the party together, just call me."
"Thanks, Brenda," Persha said with a smile.
When Persha pulled up to the Airport, she wasn’t sure how to react at first, she’d been thinking about it all day.
But that uncertainty didn’t last long, when she saw her mother walking out of baggage claim, Paula dropped her bag and pulled Persha into a tight embrace.
"Oh, how I’ve missed you," she said, pulling back to look at her daughter.