Midnight (44 page)

I ran down to the basement, showered, and changed. I had to be fresh all over. When I came around the corner, she was on the side of the building like when I first met her. She switched her style up again today. She had her hair zigzag-parted like a ghetto girl and pulled tight. The long ends were braided and wrapped around in two wicked braided buns that sat on both sides of her head like ram’s horns.

No gloss or lipstick, just a splash of glitter that made her eyes sparkle more.

Soon as she saw me, her pretty natural lips parted and her smile spread wide. She stopped leaning on the wall and stood waiting.

I wanted to take her to the store and buy her some pants to wear underneath the white linen dress she was rocking. But I took her to the jeweler and bought her some diamond studs instead.

“No gift wrap,” I told him. “Just clean ’em up with the machine and get me some alcohol wipes.”

I took her earrings out, cleaned her ear lobes with the wipes, put some alcohol on the stems and poked them through her two holes, which had healed nicely.

When I looked at her, it was perfect. Diamonds rock with linen, and expensive clothes like the ones she wore needed to be complemented with authentic jewels. They looked clean. She looked clean.

It set me back, money-wise. I had to dip into the money in my left pant leg that I usually keep just in case. But I was learning that when you are really in love with a female, you don’t give a fuck about spending your money on her.

Fingers, not chopsticks, that’s what we used at the Ethiopian restaurant where I took her for dinner. Now she was addicted to flavor. So she was real excited by the dishes of spicy foods. She dipped two fingers into a tiny sauce bowl and sucked them. Her pretty eyes filled up with water from the heat of the peppers.

I could tell she loved the scenery, the pictures, and cloths in this African restaurant. Her eyes shifted slowly from wall to wall and carving to carving. Everybody’s body swayed some to the voice of Bob Marley seducing his girl to “Turn Your Lights Down Low.”

On the warm streets of New York, her legs looked pretty in wedged Espadrille heels with a thick, pale-pink ribbon
that crisscrossed around her ankles and up until just below her knees, like a ballerina in pink toe shoes.

We walked in and out of some of the Manhattan shops, her curiosity constant, me waiting on the sun to ease down. Amusement parks always looked better in the night.

On the train I sat her on the inside. We rode hand in hand to Coney Island, home of the greatest ghetto amusement park. I passed on the idea of dropping two or three hundred at Great Adventure in New Jersey. Besides, in Coney Island, there were no searches or metal detectors.

She didn’t mind. When she saw the rides, the lights, and the swarms of people her eyes lit up. She was having a blast and wanted a little taste of everything. She wanted some cotton candy to try. I bought it. She took two bites and that was it. She ate a tiny piece of funnel cake, but mostly slid her finger in the confectioner’s sugar then sucked it. I bought two medium-sized colorful lollipops. She left them in the wrapper, stuck one on each side of her braid buns and rocked them just like that.

Most of all, she wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. We got on line. The metal cages swang down one by one, with couples jumping in and threesomes stuffing themselves in then being ordered out.

I helped Akemi inside, then climbed in myself. The joint rocked back and forth.

“Pull the safety bar,” the attendant reminded us. He left then to hit the switches.

The wheel jerked and took off. While the wheel spun around, we looked at the people way down below and the colorful lights that lit up the area. We could even see the dark waters of Far Rockaway Beach. I thought about how this was the first time in a long time that she and I had been alone. Now we were hanging in the air, swinging back and forth trapped in a cage.

•   •   •

She put her hand on the back of my neck. We started kissing. Between the rocking, and the light wind blowing into our faces, and her breathing, and the spinning, and the feeling of dropping when the ride swung down, the sensation was crazy.

The metal bar held our bodies back in one crazy uncomfortable position. But I could feel her tongue and her lips, and I was sucking her soft, smooth, and pretty neck.

When I touched her bare leg, she moaned. It was a kind of whining like a cat. She leaned her head back like the feeling was too much. Then suddenly, the ride jerked then stopped. We just sat there.

“Come on out. It’s over,” the ride operator said.

We were back on the ground. We walked a little.

The music from the DJ booth of the Himalaya ride was blasting. It was loud, crowded, and fun.

Next we hopped on the line for the El Dorado bumper cars. It was a mad rush like everybody had the same idea at the same time and wanted to get on the same ride. But as we stood there, I could see that every ride was packed with people tryna get on. It was a slow moving maze. Some people was pushing. Some people were cutting the line. The people on the line closed in tighter, trying to stop the cutters. It was a Brooklyn crowd.

Akemi was pressed against my back. When the heat from her body disappeared, I turned to her. Akemi gasped, and I figured someone had stepped on her foot. Then I saw that a female had her hand around one of Akemi’s braided buns and was pulling her backwards by the hair. She was falling. Just as I grabbed her away from the girl, another girl’s fist came crashing down on Akemi’s face. Akemi dropped to the pavement.

“You picked this Chinese bitch over me? You must be
fucking crazy,” the enraged girl screamed. Her face was all contorted like a evil comic-book monster. I took one real good look at her. It was Homegirl, backed up by a group of her female friends, including Redbone.

Hurt and shocked, Akemi held both of her hands over one eye. I picked her up from the ground and put both my arms around her. I froze. If it was a male attacker, I would’ve killed him. A group of boys, I would’ve fought ’em all. But, it was a group of girls led by one crazy broad.

On instinct, I pushed Homegirl out of the way so I could get Akemi out of the overpopulated, fenced-in line. Homegirl fell backwards but up against the bodies of her friends, who caught her. They all started screaming and three of them threw their drinks onto Akemi’s dress.

“That’s what you get, bitch!” Homegirl yelled.

“Fry me some chicken wings, bitch,” Redbone screamed.

“Paint my toenails, bitch,” the other one barked.

“And Brooklyn don’t wear white before Memorial Day, bitch!”

I held three of the girls back. But one of them snatched the lollipops out of Akemi’s hair and started beating her with them. A group of girls started leaping over the rail. They Brooklyn mobbed her. Akemi ducked down by the bottom of my leg where they couldn’t reach her. I kicked one of ’em with my one free leg. I pushed the rest of them down one by one. The crowd started spreading and splitting, until we was out of there.

Everybody watched the whole thing happen. They talked. Some cheered. Others laughed or screamed. Some fools even tried to block our exit to keep the fight going strong. There were no cops around. That was a good thing. The Coney Island ride attendants were caught up watching the brawl, so the bumper cars were at a complete standstill.

I grabbed a pile of napkins from Nathan’s. I was wiping
the soda off of Akemi, but it was sticky on her skin. Her hair was unraveled and fucked up from all the pulling. Now her right eye was swelling.

At a small clothing booth, I paid ten dollars for a blue XL “I Love Coney Island” T-shirt and pulled it over Akemi’s stained wet dress. We hopped in a cab. “Jackson Heights, Queens,” I told the driver.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, not knowing what else to say. I felt like shit. I had failed to protect her.

“
Hai
,” she said softly, but I could see her eye was already blackening.

I did not know what the fuck to do. Her dress was soaked in Coke, which looked like diarrhea on her expensive linen cloth. Her eye was black. I could also see how I had left a big purple passion mark on her neck. It looked like I had fucked her up, abused her, beat her with my fists.

I had to either take her to the hospital, or take her to her uncle’s house. Either way I was fucked. Trained not to panic, I took deep breaths. Calmly, I told the driver, “Turn around.” Then I gave him my Brooklyn address.

“For that address pay up front, twenty dollars plus whatever the meter says when we get there,” he said. I put my twenty-dollar bill in the metal cup attached to his shield that separated the driver from the passengers. He grabbed the money, made the turn, and sped off.

As we pulled up on my block, I saw Conflict sitting in his parked car, Heavenly at his side. They were both stretching their necks like giraffes to see what I was doing. I held Akemi close and tight on an angle away from the two of them. I walked her past and up the walkway into the building.

As I unlocked and entered the door to our apartment, I was already explaining myself to Umma. Naja was excited to see Akemi, but instantly her face went from joy to complete shock.

In rapid Arabic I recounted the events for my mother.

Akemi stood with her head down. Umma stepped in and put her hand below Akemi’s chin and pulled her face up. Umma’s eyes brought tears to Akemi’s eyes. Once she saw Umma’s expression, she knew exactly how bad it was. Umma took Akemi into her room. Naja followed them.

I went for the telephone. It was still early, 10:10
P.M.
I was hoping to speak to Akemi’s cousin to control the damage on the other side. I could easily see this thing blowing up into all-out war and complete mess and disaster.

Luckily the cousin picked up. I started putting my quick plan in place.

“I need your help. Don’t say my name please,” is what I asked her. The cousin was quiet on the phone for a few seconds.

“Are you in a room alone or with others?” I asked her.

“I’m alone now, why?” she asked.

“Listen, Akemi is all right. She is with me. We went to a park and she got jumped by some girls.”

“Oh no, why?” she asked.

“I don’t know, jealousy, robbery, something,” I said.

“Where were you? How could you let this happen to her?”

“I was with her. But, there were a lot of people there in a crowd and we got separated. I’m sorry. But she is at my house now and I am taking care of her,” I said.

“She has to go home!” her cousin said, raising her voice.

“I know, but she can’t leave just now. Her dress is ruined and my mother is helping her. I just need you to do us a big favor. Please call your uncle and tell him that Akemi is spending the night with you,” I asked her.

“I can’t do that! If this is some kind of joke, or if you two are trying to spend the night together, don’t include me. Akemi will get into sooo much trouble. Put her on the phone please.” The cousin was tensed.

“Listen, first. I’ll put her on. I called you because you know me and you know and love Akemi. This ain’t no joke. We need you to do this. It’s not a trick or a game or nothing. It’s more of an emergency.”

“Please put her on the phone,” the cousin insisted. I knocked on Umma’s door and asked her to hand Akemi the telephone.

As I listened to Akemi speaking fluently in Japanese, I couldn’t tell either way. She spoke so softly. As I watched her, I could not detect anger or fear or anything in her tone of voice. I returned to the living room and picked up the phone to listen in. There were three voices now all speaking Japanese, Akemi’s, the cousin’s, and the uncle’s.

I pictured myself in my imagination, standing at the door of the uncle’s house holding Akemi’s hand. When the uncle opens the door and sees the bruises, he draws his sword, the real deal one like Sensei’s, and chops off my fucking head. I don’t move. I let him. I deserve it. If it were my sister standing there at my house with some guy who failed to protect her, I would do the same.

Then I heard the click. I put the phone down worried.

Then the phone rang again and I picked it up. It was the cousin again.

“Midnight, I put Uncle on the three-way. He believes that Akemi and I are here at my house together. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t happen to speak to my parents before tomorrow. If this thing backfires I am so dead. I did this for Akemi’s sake. But she promised me she wouldn’t . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“I won’t,” I promised. “My mother and sister are here too. I have some respect, you know,” I reminded her.

“Bring her to her uncle’s house in Queens in the morning at 11:00
A.M.
No one will be home, because they will all be in Chinatown at the store by that time. I’ll leave my house early
and meet you two there. I’ll take care of the rest.” Now she sounded confident.

“Thank you. Don’t worry. Call back if you have to,” I told her.

Umma had Akemi lying down on her bed. She had prepared a solution in a silver dish, and was dabbing it onto Akemi’s eye. Then she placed the ice bag she prepared over her eye. Naja watched intently. Akemi seemed relaxed and somehow to enjoy the attention and affection. I understood. Umma had that effect. As I stood in the doorway looking in, Umma said to me in Arabic, “She’ll be okay in time.” I took it as a cue for me to leave. I went to my room.

An hour later, I looked out my door. Naja was washing Akemi’s hair in the kitchen sink. She had her bottles of Umma’s female potions, rose water and lavender and tangerine. She seemed to be thinking of Akemi as one of her dolls. I could tell by her expression that she was having the time of her life.

Umma was smooth at working her magic. Now the white linen dress was soaking in the bathtub in some type of cleaning solution. I didn’t think anything could remove those dark-brown stains. Meanwhile, Umma was speed-sewing. I’ve seen her do it before during some important rush job.

Akemi ended up sitting on a huge pillow on the floor, freshly showered and wearing one of Umma’s beautiful robes. Her hair was still moist. She had her arms wrapped around her legs, her long hair covering the blackened eye, the other eye peeking out. She still looked beautiful to me. Some scars and bruises are erotic if you could just look at them and block out how they got there. Plus she had ten perfectly shaped unblemished creamy toes.