Lookin' For Luv (38 page)

Read Lookin' For Luv Online

Authors: Carl Weber

“You fucking bitch! How dare you talk about him like that at his memorial?” Sylvia reached across and snatched Blanche’s dangling earring off, ripping her earlobe open so that it began to bleed.
Oh, my God! What have I done?
she thought, looking at the earring in her hand.
“I’m bleeding, you fucking yellow bitch!” Blanche screamed as she grabbed her ear. She lunged at Sylvia, swinging as hard as she could.
Ducking out of the way of Blanche’s punches, Sylvia grabbed her hair and rammed Blanche’s head into the bar. It was as if years of pent-up frustration had surfaced, and now Sylvia found herself in the middle of the first physical confrontation of her life. She was in such a rage, she had totally forgotten about the crowd of socialites in the room to witness the altercation.
Blanche was down but not beaten. Holding on to the bar, she kicked Sylvia hard in the ribs with the spike heel of her shoe. Then, grabbing Sylvia’s blouse, she threw her into an unoccupied table, which broke under her weight. Sylvia grabbed hold of a saltshaker that was on the table, quickly unscrewed the top, and threw the salt in Blanche’s eyes, lunging toward her.
“Ahhrr!” Blanche screamed, trying to scurry away blindly.
“You must!”—punch—“think!”-punch “I’m!” punch—“playing!”—punch—“with!”—punch—“you bitch!” Sylvia yelled as she pounded her fists into Blanche’s head.
Blanche ran frantically toward the crowd that had formed. Following Blanche through the crowd, Sylvia caught her fifteen feet away from where Kevin and Antoine were standing.
Keisha, nibbling on an hors d’oeuvre, tugged the sleeve of Antoine’s tuxedo.
“Damn, baby, they sure have good entertainment at these high-society parties, don’t they?”
“Yeah, I guess they do at that.” Antoine laughed.
Tyrone was pulling Sylvia off Blanche and hugging her.
“It’s over, Sylvia. Let’s go into the auction room.” Tyrone pointed to the two security guards helping Blanche to her feet, and another two headed their way.
“All right.” She was trying to fix her clothes as she gasped for air.
As she struggled from a guard’s grip, Blanche was mumbling, “I can’t believe I let that yellow bitch embarrass me like this. Nobody makes a fool out of Blanche Peterson and gets away with it.”
“You okay, miss? Are you sure you’re all right to walk?” one guard asked.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Blanche watched as Sylvia and Tyrone embraced. Unable to stand the sight of the two of them, she darted toward Tyrone’s painting. Grabbing it from the easel, she ran toward Tyrone and Sylvia, lifting the painting high in the air. Baring her bloodstained teeth in a maniacal grin, she slammed it over both of their heads as she laughed uncontrollably.
“What the hell!” Tyrone screamed, hearing the canvas rip as it hit his head. Grabbing Sylvia tightly, he was not sure of what had happened until he saw the frame from his painting hit the ground. “Ohhhhh, no!” He let go of Sylvia and stepped out of the frame, heading for Blanche, when the two security guards stepped in front of him.
“Let us handle it from here, sir. I think we’ve had enough violence for one day, don’t you?” one of the guards addressed Tyrone as two others escorted Blanche out of the gallery.
 
Tyrone sat on Sylvia’s Mercedes, drinking a can of Old English 800 ale. Kevin and Denise had volunteered to take his daughters home, so Tyrone was waiting outside the gallery for Sylvia. She was still inside the building, trying to smooth things over with Raul, Bernard’s secretary, who had organized the memorial fund-raiser.
“Fuck!” Tyrone shouted, throwing the can. “Even Old English tastes like shit after you get used to Dom Pérignon. Why the hell did I ever think I could be a gallery artist?”
“Because I told you that you could,” Sylvia answered, approaching the car. “And I still believe you can. This was not your fault, Tyrone. It was mine.”
“What did Raul say?”
“Exactly what I thought he would say. As executor of Bernard’s estate, he has to run Ridgewood Galleries the same as Bernard would. He suspended both of us from the gallery for one year.”
“Damn! By that time all the name recognition I built up tonight will be gone.”
“That’s not definite. And besides, he did promise to let you do next year’s memorial. That gives you twelve months to paint the perfect picture.”
“I just don’t know, Syl. With all that’s happened lately, maybe someone’s trying to tell me this just isn’t meant to be. I mean, first Bernard dies right before he’s going to review my work, and now this. Maybe I need to stop dreaming and get on with my life.”
Sylvia held him tightly, determined to find a way to keep his dream alive until it became a reality.
31
 
SHAWNA AND KEISHA
 
Shawna pulled her Volkswagen Beetle out of the Gertz Plaza Mall parking garage onto Archer Avenue. She had spent the day shopping with her friend Roberta, happily looking for outfits to accentuate her new breasts. After the surgery had healed, she was determined to celebrate her bigger and better chest, showing as much of it as she could without getting arrested. She had worn a baby-blue halter that exposed her expensive cleavage, and men had been ogling her all day.
Roberta looked over at her. “I have to admit, Shawna, I’m jealous. You look good, girl.”
“All you have to do is save your money, Roberta. How long have I been tellin’ you? A nice C cup beats an A any day.”
“It’s just hard for me to save money. You know I’m a clothes freak, girl. When I die, just go ahead and bury me in Macy’s, ’cause that’s what I call heaven!”
“Well, you know the men seem to like bigger breasts.”
“Speaking of men. Have you talked to Antoine lately?”
Shawna hesitated. “No, I think he’s screening his calls.”
“I told you what to do when you first started dating him. If you had listened to me, you two would be together right now.”
“You’re right, but I hate to think sex is that important.”
“Well, it is. The sooner you realize it, the sooner you’ll get your man back.”
“You think so, Roberta? You don’t know how much I miss him.”
“Well, go over there and handle your business, girl. There’s more than one way to satisfy a man.”
“Yeah, and I’m good at that.”
“That’s right, girl. Virgin or not, a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do to keep her man. Listen, lemme borrow the car while you’re over there.”
“No problem. I plan on being there for quite a while.” The two women laughed, then spent the rest of the ride in silence as Shawna planned Antoine’s seduction.
 
Keisha sat behind the register of her beauty shop, cracking jokes about how ugly Blanche Peterson was at the memorial auction.
“I swear to God, y’all, after that Sylvia kicked her ass, that bitch was fugly.”
“Fugly? What the hell is fugly?” a customer asked.
“Well, she was ugly to start with. But after that Sylvia got to her ass, she was fucked up. So she was fucked up and ugly. You know, fugly!”
The entire beauty shop fell out laughing until Terri looked out the window and gasped.
“Speaking of ugly, isn’t that your man’s ex-girlfriend knocking on his door?”
The shop became quiet. Keisha jumped out of her chair and ran to the window. Antoine was gone for the weekend, fishing with his friends, so at least she knew he couldn’t have planned to meet Shawna here. But she still had to know what her competition was doing outside
her
man’s door.
“Terri, go get my sneakers out of the back room,” she told her friend.
She took off her earrings and jewelry, then reached into a cabinet and pulled out a large jar of Vaseline.
“What’s that for?” Terri asked, handing Keisha her sneakers.
“It’s an old street trick. You take Vaseline and put it all over your face and arms like this.” She smeared it liberally over herself. “Then she can’t scratch you or get a good grip if you have to wrestle.”
“Gimme some so I can help you kick that bitch’s ass,” Terri offered.
“No, little sister, you stay here. This is between her and me. I don’t want you to let anyone out of the shop until this is over.” She sat in the chair and put her sneakers on, then tied her hair in a ponytail. Taking a deep breath, she walked outside to face her competition.
Shawna looked at her watch. Antoine was usually home at this time on a Saturday. She was disappointed he wasn’t answering. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a pen and paper.
“Ain’t no reason to leave a note, bitch! He’s not gonna call you.”
“How the fuck do you know?” Shawna asked, surprised by Keisha, who was standing at the bottom of the steps.
“Because he’s my man now. And after I gave him some, I’m sure he doesn’t want your ass.”
“You know, Keisha, you’re pathetic. You’re lying just like the first time I met you.”
“Oh, yeah? Remember that lingerie he bought for the first time you gave him some?” Keisha could see Shawna’s eyes become smaller with anger. “Good thing we wear the same size, ’cause I wore it last night when he made love to me.” She laughed hard as Shawna came running down the stairs.
“I’m sick of you interfering with Antoine and me. I’m gonna kick your ass all over this goddamn block if I have to, but you’re gonna leave him alone,” Shawna screamed.
“You still don’t get it! He’s ain’t your man. I’ve been goin’ with him almost two months.” Keisha backed into the street, then landed a hard right hand to Shawna’s jaw.
Shawna was so angry, she barely felt the blow. Swinging wildly, she tried to scratch Keisha’s eyes out.
“I’m gonna kill you, bitch! I swear I’m gonna kill you.”
“I knew you was gonna try and scratch me.” Keisha laughed as Shawna’s wild swinging made her fall on the ground. “You ain’t gonna kill shit!” She kicked her ribs.
Bending over to catch her breath, Keisha waited for Shawna to get up, then ran at her as fast as she could. Shawna hit Keisha with a blow harder than she had ever felt from another woman.
“You don’t know how much I hate you,” Shawna screamed, punching Keisha repeatedly. “You’ve brought out a part of me I’ve tried to hide for years.”
Keisha fell backward from the barrage of blows to her head. Grabbing Shawna’s hair to soften her fall, she hit the pavement hard when Shawna’s weave ripped out of her head.
“Damn, you look like a man with no hair,” she jeered.
“Just ’cause I don’t fuck around don’t make me less than you. I’m just as much woman as you and more, bitch!” Shawna was enraged now. She dove on top of Keisha.
Roberta sat in Shawna’s car, laughing, as she watched the fight.
If that chick knew what I know, she wouldn’t be fucking with Shawna. Damn, she getting her ass kicked!
Still recovering from the punches she had taken, Keisha closed her eyes when she saw Shawna leap to finish the job she had started.
Damn, this bitch fights just like a man
, she thought Defensively she stuck her foot out to try to soften the blow of Shawna’s weight and accidentally caught the tall woman in the groin. Surprised when she no longer felt Shawna’s punches, Keisha opened her eyes and tried to get up. Catching a glimpse of Shawna balled up on the ground, she limped over to a metal trash can and grabbed the lid.
“Get up, bitch!” she screamed at Shawna, who had her hands between her legs. “I wanna see your nappy ass smile when I knock you out!” Taking hold of what was left of Shawna’s hair, Keisha drew back the trash-can lid and pounded it into her head. She was about to hit her again with the lid but was stopped when Roberta grabbed it from her, throwing it in the street.
“That’s enough! Can’t you see she can’t defend herself after you kicked her in the nuts?”
Keisha froze.
“Nuts!
What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Oh, Roberta, what have you done?” Shawna moaned weakly, trying to stand.
Roberta helped her friend up. “Girl, you ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of. Even with a dick, you look better than this bitch.”
Terri and a few girls from the shop came running out when they saw Roberta. “Keisha, you all right? I see her big-ass friend had to save her.”
“This ain’t over by a long shot, Keisha,” Shawna said as Roberta helped her into her car.
“Oh, it’s over. I can’t wait for Antoine to get home tomorrow so I can tell him what you really are!” Keisha threatened before Roberta closed the car door and sped away.
“What was that all about?” Terri asked.
“Nothin’. I just got myself mixed up in some Jerry Springer-type shit.” Keisha walked slowly into her shop. Every bone in her body ached.

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