Pernicious (12 page)

         
“So,” eyes resting everywhere but upon her, “you’re inquiring about a house?”

         
“Yes, I am.”

         
“Well, you do understand that here at Plantation Realtors…we’re not equipped to handle HUD applications.”

         
Perry had anticipated this. “Is it my shoes?” stomping her foot. A small cloud of dust rose from her loafers. The man coughed. “My shirt?”

         
She pulled a strand from an already torn fishnet shirt, causing another tear, exposing more of her bare breast. “My shorts?” She ripped a handful of threads from cut-off blue jean shorts.

         
“Miss, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave,” the man said, looking aghast.

         
Three white men stood in the doorway, abject disgust painted on their faces.

         
“Edgar,” one of the men said, “should I contact the authorities?”
  

         
Perry leaned back in the chair and rested her dusty loafers atop the desk, executive-style. Another cloud of dust rose up.

         
She coughed daintily in her fist. “Excuse me, Igor! I would like to buy a house, preferably in Chenal Valley. I’m prepared to pay a half million dollars…in full…today!”

         
“W-wh-what?” Edgar stammered.

         
“What my ass!” She leaned to her left and pulled a checkbook out of her back pocket and tossed it on the desk. “If there’s any doubt, call the bank. Meanwhile, you either show me something that tickles my fancy…or kiss my stanky black ass!”

         
After calling the bank, they chose the former. Three agents, each praising her effusively, rode her around in a van.

         
“I want this one,” Perry said the moment she saw the pink house.

         
“Don’t you want to view it first?” asked Edgar.

         
“No,” Perry said.

         
“Are you sure?”

         
Perry turned on him. “You thought I was a HUD hoe stumbled into the wrong office you were ready to call the police. When you discovered I have money, you and your partners fought to be the first to kiss my ass. I said I want this one. Hook it up…or kiss something else!”

         
Edgar cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

         
Where did you get so much money? Perry knew that question troubled their minds, yet they never asked.

         
She dusted off her clothes and stepped into the house.
        
Where did you get so much money?

         
She walked upstairs to the bathroom and sat on the rim of an antique metal tub, which had also cost her a small fortune.

         
“Tyrone,” she said as the water cascaded against metal. “Tyrone gave it to me.”

         
She undressed and eased into the water and allowed her thoughts to float back…
 

         
There was a soft knock at the door.

         
Tyrone stood there, his expression solemn.

         
“Aren’t you coming in?”

         
“Perry, I’m sorry. I really need to go home and be there for my kids. My youngest boy, Donny, he’s having problems at school.” ”

         
“He’s retarded. Tell him to start studying for the GED. Are you going to stand there or come in?”

         
He obviously did not want to enter, but he did, his eyes never leaving hers.

         
Perry closed the door and locked it.

         
“Tyrone, I’ve always wanted what you wanted. You know that. If you want to go back to your kids, though most of em old enough to take care of their damn-self, then I want you to be with your kids. Why are you looking at me like that?”

         
He sat down on the arm of a black loveseat, wringing his hands. “Are you serious? I really thought you would…”

         
“Would what, Tyrone? Throw a fit?” She strolled to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “Really, Tyrone, you don’t know me very well.”

         
“Maybe I don’t. I’m just glad you’re taking it…Hey, look at me, a fat old man. You can do better than someone like me.”

         
“Have you filed for divorce yet?” She handed him a glass.

         
“Uh, I will later today.”

         
“Our accounts…the insurance policies, four-o-one-K, mutual funds.” She twisted the top off the bottle. “Do you intend to leave them intact, as they stand now?”

         
Tyrone cleared his throat. “No. I think I should change everything for the kids.”

         
“Not a problem,” pouring champagne into her glass. “I have one request, Tyrone. One. Is that too much to ask?”

         
Tyrone looked uncomfortable. “What?”

         
“A toast to what we had…and what we could have had.”

         
Tyrone stared at the bottle as if it were a snake.
Perry put the glass to her lips, winked at him and drank it dry. “You don’t think I’d poison you, do you?”

         
Tyrone glanced at his watch. “Really, I should be going. I left the truck running.”

         
“Gosh, Tyrone. You can’t even have a toast? Don’t you at least owe me that?”

         
Tyrone sighed. “Okay…just one.”

         
Perry filled his glass to the rim. Tyrone sniffed it, his eyes searching hers.

         
“It’s better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all,” Perry said, and clinked his glass.

         
Tyrone took a modest sip and sat his glass on the table. “I better get going.”

         
She crossed to him and kissed him. “One last time, Tyrone.”

         
He shook his head.

         
Perry stepped back and loosened the sash on her terry-cloth robe. “One last time, Tyrone. One for the road. Tell me you can walk out the door without enjoying this pussy one last time.”

         
She let the robe slip to the floor.

         
Tyrone looked conflicted; he wanted to go right now, but before him…Perry stood stark naked.

         
No way could he resist.
 

         
“Al’ight, already,” he said, going to her. “One last time.”

         
They kissed furiously, gasping for breath. She worked him toward the loveseat and they fell down on it, their lips never departing. She grabbed his sex, rock hard.

         
“Wait,” she said, getting up. “I’m dirty. Let me take a quick shower. It won’t take a second.”

         
Before he could respond, she was skipping off toward the hallway.

         
Perry entered the bathroom and turned on the shower faucet, but did not get in. Instead she tiptoed into the hallway and peered at Tyrone. Naked. He was, like he’d said, a fat old man. His distended stomach appeared larger than his entire body, and his ashy, dark skin hung loosely around the arms and thighs. He sat there on the loveseat staring at his erect penis.

         
“Hey,” he yelled, “you better get out here! I don’t know how long I can keep this boy up.”

         
Perry tiptoed back into the bathroom and shut off the faucet and waited a few minutes more.

         
She re-entered the room, wet with nervous perspiration.
     
“You ready?” she asked.

         
“I’m ready and willing!”

         
“Let me lie down.” Tyrone got up and she stretched out on the loveseat, throwing one leg up on the headrest. “Come get it!”

         
 
Tyrone had to have surprised himself; he was still going, huffing and puffing like a truck hauling an oversized load, yet still going…and going…Perry sped up the action, pushing her pelvis up to meet his down strokes…“Fuck me, baby!” she encouraged him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” She moved even faster. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!…Faster!…

         
“…Faster!…

         
“…Faster!…”

         
A while Tyrone kept up, matching her stroke for stroke, then suddenly he wailed, “Aaaaaaugghhh!”

         
Tyrone often wailed during intercourse; this time, however, he clutched his chest.

         
Perry pushed him off and he rolled to the floor. “Call an ambulance,” Tyrone gasped, sweat blotching his anguished face. “I think I’m having a heart attack!”

         
“Are you really? A real bona fide heart attack? Tyrone, a heart attack can kill you. Of course, you know that--you’ve had one before.”

         
“Call an ambulance…please!”

         
“Hmmm! Call an ambulance? Do you think that’s a good idea? I’m naked, you’re naked. What will my landlord think? You’re still hard, Tyrone. We were so close, a grunt or two shy of rapture. An inconvenient time to have a heart attack, Tyrone, sugar. Couldn’t you have waited till you got back to your ex and your kids, who you rant and rave about so much. I’m sure
they
would know what to do in an emergency such as this.”

         
Tyrone groaned. “Just…call an ambulance…please!”

         
“I guess I should, Tyrone.” She started toward the kitchen…stopped. “Naw, I think not. They might think I put something in your drink, you know, a little something to get you worked up.”

         
Tyrone started clawing his way to the kitchen. Perry stepped over him, disappeared a few seconds before returning with a gold Princess phone, unhooked.

         
“Help me, Jesus…please, Jesus! Help me!”

         
“Help him, Jesus! Help him die!” Perry laughed, knelt down beside him and grabbed his sex. “The sooner you die, Tyrone, sugar, the sooner I collect the insurance money, the retirement account, the whole fucking shebang! The sooner I can buy a house and get out of this funky, little apartment.”

         
Shaking her head: “You should have known I wouldn’t let you give all my money to that lazy lush and her dimwitted delinquents.”

         
“Our Father,” Tyrone sputtered, his breathing labored, “whose art is in heaven. Hallow be Thy name…Your kingdom calm…”

         
“You haven’t prayed in a long time, have you, Ty, sugar? Well, I hate to tell you, it’s a little too late now. You’re dying, man-up and deal with it!”