Fast Life (4 page)

T
he Cheesecake Factory, with its yellowish-pinkish curved walls and ceilings and its casual, relaxed atmosphere was the perfect place for their farewell.

They were seated in a round booth, Natasha and Mercedes on either side, and Kyra in the middle. They had been gabbing away all night, laughing and joking, reminiscing about old times. Their chatter stopped when their meals arrived—hot, delicious and scrumptious-looking.

“I'm about to tear it up!” Mercedes rubbed her hands together as she eyed the shrimp New Orleans dish being set in front of her by the waiter.

“I know that's right,” Natasha agreed.

“Enjoy your meal, ladies,” said the blue-eyed waiter whose name tag read ANDREW in bold black letters.

“Oh, believe me, we will.” Mercedes shot the waiter the eye before he walked off—blushing—to attend to other tables.

“Cedes, you know you need to leave that li'l white boy alone. Flirting with him like that,” Natasha giggled.

“Don't sleep on them white boys. They be havin' money! I mean, look, he got a job and it's legal. Plus he's a cutie. Maybe he'll give me a discount or something if I keep it up. Who knows? But hey, a number is good, too, 'cause to be honest, I'd do him,” Mercedes shamelessly admitted as she stuffed a forkful of food into her mouth.

“Oh yeah, before I forget, Kyra, I got something for yo' spoiled ass,” Natasha said, changing the conversation. She reached down into her purse and pulled out a thin box in shiny purple wrapping paper.

“Me, too,” Mercedes chimed in, pulling up a long royal blue box. Kyra knew by instinct it was jewelry.

“Aww, you guys didn't need to do that for me!” Even though she acted surprised, deep down she had expected something.

She started with Natasha's gift. She tore the wrapping paper and revealed a CD.

“Aww, cute, really cute.” She smiled at the memory of the day they'd played hooky at her friend's house.

“Okay, open mines now.” Mercedes' anxiety was a sure sign that Kyra was bound to like her gift.

Kyra picked up the thin box and slowly removed the lid. There were three white gold bracelets, each holding part of a shimmering pink-rhinestone-encrusted letter.

“It's a three-way friendship bracelet. I had it specially made. It's rare, just like our friendship, and when you put it together, it makes a C for Chicago. I just had to make sure you never forget where you came from,” explained Mercedes. Kyra passed each of her friends a bracelet, and they put them on, connecting the pieces that linked them as friends.

 

At the top of the John Hancock building was where Natasha and Kyra stoodside by side, looking at the Chicago skyline—the lights, the buildings, the water and everywhere across the city. Kyra took it all in. She was so comfortable and took the city's vitality for granted. She never wanted to forget it.

“I'm gonna miss you, you know that?” Natasha broke the silence.

“I'm gonna miss you, too. I don't wanna go. I just…wish things were different.” Kyra sighed as she looked out over the city.

“I don't want you to go, either, but I mean, look at the bright side. It's really nice there. It has all those white-sand beaches and crystal-clear water. It might not be so bad. I mean, you'll be basking in the sun while we're all up here freezing our asses off.” Natasha never failed to try to put a positive spin on things.

“But it's not Chi-town. I don't care how much sand and water it has, it will never be here. It'll never be home. I mean, if this was a vacation, I would be geeked as hell. But to live? No!
Hell
no!”

“Well, you'll only have two years there, right? Then you'll be eighteen and old enough to do what you wanna do, including come back to Chicago and live with me and Cedes.” Natasha grinned at her friend. She was still trying to lift Kyra's mood, even though she knew it was useless.

“But while I'm there, I won't have nobody, Tash. Not you, not Kai, Cedes, nobody. I leave and at least you still got Cedes.”

“Yeah, you're right, I guess. But you can meet new people while you're down there. Ain't nothing wrong with that. I mean, don't get it twisted. All three of us are tight, but me and you, man, we been down since kindergarten! Cedes came in the picture in junior high. You got years on her! I mean, she's a good friend, don't get me wrong, but she ain't my sis like you are.”

“I'm your sis? Fa real?”

“You know I never lie! And you know I'm gonna be down there for summer vacation, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Aww, girl, come here! I'm going to miss you something crucial!” Natasha tried hard to smile and laugh and hold back the tears as she hugged her longtime friend. It hurt her to be so helpless when someone she cared about was down and out.

Kyra wished she could confide in Natasha as she rested her chin on her shoulder. All she needed was a moment to tell her how, deep down, she was really scared. She was afraid of this huge change in her life, afraid she wasn't ready for it. But telling someone she was afraid was something she could never do. “You can't show your weakness” was advice Makai had passed on to her, and she followed his advice as if it were scripture.

The two of them broke free of their hug and fell silent again. Since neither of them really knew what to say, silence seemed best. Eventually, a security guard in the building came to tell them it was time to go, and the building was closing.

They exited the elevator and spotted Mercedes as Andrew was leaving.

“I see someone's awfully happy,” Natasha commented.

“Yup, another success. But I got a problem.” Mercedes held a small piece of paper on which seven digits and his name were scribbled in blue ink. “I don't know whether to get his ass to buy me a pair of Gucci boots to match my purse or if I should get him to pay for my hair and nails every week.”

“Oh Lord. She got herself another victim,” Kyra chuckled.

“It's not like we're getting married or anything. By the time he realizes what's happening to him, he'll be too damn broke to do shit about it.”

The conversation on the way home had been buzzing over the radio, but as soon as they pulled in front of Kyra's, things fell quiet.

“Well, y'all, I'm gonna go. I'll talk to y'all later,” was all Kyra could manage to say on her last night. The three had one last tight group hug.

Kyra had to avoid goodbyes, to avoid any kind of emotional moment. She wanted to keep the situation under control, and that meant not seeing anyone cry and holding back her own tears. She stepped out of the car and walked toward her house.

She stood on the porch in the chill of the winter's night and watched the Altima drive down her street and vanish.

 

F
LIGHT
2353
TO
N
ASSAU FROM
C
HICAGO
, 1:00 A.M. scrolled across the large electronic screen in bright orange letters as they sat and waited. Kyra looked at her watch. In just half an hour, she would be on a plane headed to what many people considered paradise. She, however, considered it hell, and it was hot, too.

While waiting to board, she tried to call Makai. She just wanted to hear his voice one more time. She wasn't sure she would make it through the flight if she didn't. When he didn't answer after a barrage of calls, she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth in frustration. Aside from his disappointing call that morning, she hadn't heard from him all day. He hadn't even sent her a text message. Nothing.

“What's wrong?” her mother said, sensing her daughter's frustration.

“Nothing. I'll be back,” Kyra snapped as she snatched her carry-on bag and marched to a nearby kiosk.

Her eyes were blurry as she fumbled through the racks of magazines and rows of snacks and candies, but she ignored the impulse to break down. Instead, she quickly settled on
Ebony, XXL
and
Jet
, along with a king-sized Snickers bar, a snack-sized bag of Cheetos and a Pepsi. To her, they were not just the perfect snacks—they were now essentials for the trip.

“Flight two-three-five-three to Nassau from Chicago will now begin boarding. If you are an unaccompanied minor or a first-class passenger you are welcome to board.”

The announcement echoed through the terminal as Kyra made her way back to the boarding area with a plastic bag of goodies and her small carry-on bag. She began heading toward the gate but stopped when her mother didn't follow.

“Mom, come on. We gotta board.” She motioned for her mother to come along.

“They didn't call us yet. Sit down.”

“We're not in first class?” Kyra said, as though she couldn't believe it.

“Since when do I have first-class money?” Her mother chuckled, but Kyra didn't find anything funny.

 

Seat 26A, a window seat, was Kyra's. She and her mother were among the last group of passengers to board and were now seated near the very back of the plane. As the plane took off, Kyra sat in the stuffy cabin and listened to her headphones. When the flight attendant came around, she didn't eat anything or drink anything. She didn't even speak. She just sat there going through her iPod selections, finally choosing several menu tracks. In between burying her head in a romance novel, her mother took a nap and ate the snacks the flight attendant doled out. Kyra scowled at her in disgust, barely able to control the urge to choke her mother in her sleep.

As tired as she was, Kyra couldn't sleep. Insomnia left her cranky. Kyra flipped through magazines, and even though they didn't hold her attention for long, she forced herself to read every article in each issue twice. She sometimes felt herself drifting off, but with the sudden jerks of the plane and a crying baby, a nap was impossible.

Man, this is some bullshit! Here I am on this big-ass plane that's stuffy as hell and smells like shit. That bitch back there needs to change that little rug rat's diaper and shut him the fuck up! He sounds just as happy about leavin' as I am, though, so I guess I can't really knock him for it. And Mom. Look at her ass. Over there all asleep. Lookin' all comfortable, too. Like this was nothin'! Like this was no big deal! Man, if I couldparachute off this plane and go back to Chicago, I would in a heartbeat. But no, here I am goin' to a whole other country with nobody. I mean, Mom can be cool sometimes, I guess. But more times than not, she's too uptight. Why are we movin' here? This still don't make no sense to me! I mean, we could've found a solution. There had to be some way to fix the problem. But naw, she just wanna up and ruin my life. I feel robbed, robbed of my life or somethin'. I feel incomplete. It's like somethin' is missin'. And now here I am, on this plane that keeps rockin' and shakin'. Yup. This is it. I'm goin' from bein' one of Chi-town's finest to bein' some island girl.

Kyra looked down at her watch for about the millionth time. It was about seven in the morning. They would be landing soon.

Thank the Lord this flight is just about over. I've been on this plane long enough. Got me sittin' next to a woman I despise with every fiber of my goddamn being right now. I could just choke the shit out of her for doin' this! For makin' me go through this shit! For makin' me miserable! For makin' everythin' change! This is by far the worst day of my life!

K
yra and her mother spilled out of the plane in the middle of the crowd of passengers. They had reached Nassau, Bahamas. The island was captivating. The sun was shining bright, the air was warm, and there were rows upon rows of palm trees. Yeah, Florida had these things, too, but Nassau had a much more exotic appeal.

They made their way outside with their baggage, trying to catch a ride to the ferry that would take them to the island of Prince Paul. Kyra stepped outside into the heat, which forced her to take off her leather jacket. It didn't take long to hail a cab.

Their cabdriver was kind, maybe a little too kind. He got lost driving to the dock, all the while engaging in friendly conversation with her mother as though nothing were wrong or out of the ordinary. He had that thick West Indian accent Kyra had imagined, and the looks to match.
This is goin' to be a long two years
, she thought. She sighed and leaned her head against the window.

 

Vomit floated in the water as Kyra hung over the side of the boat. She had gotten seasick on the ferry. Her face was pale and her stomach did more flips than a gymnast. She had ridden in small tour boats in Chicago before for fun, but that was a long time ago. Her body wasn't used to the swaying of a boat anymore.

She sat down on a bench on the top deck. She was tired and nauseated but refused to close her eyes. Her body was tense and aching. She stared out at the light blue water and the islands in the distance. She even thought she spotted a dolphin fin at one point. Her head tipped back and she looked up at the sky as birds glided through the air. She didn't like the new place, but she couldn't deny its beauty. She kept her comments to herself, while her mother was the complete opposite. “It's so beautiful!” she said to Kyra nearly a thousand times, and that was no exaggeration.

At around one o'clock in the afternoon, they pulled into a dock with a sign that read W
ELCOME TO
P
RINCE
P
AUL
, P
OPU
-

LATION
: 5,078. Kyra couldn't believe it. There were probably more people in her old high school than on the entire island.

“Okay now, we're up the road a mile or two,” said Geneva Jones as she read aloud from the directions to their new address. “I can't wait to see the house up close. I bet it's gorgeous!”

“You want me to go find a cab?” Kyra asked, sipping her now warm Pepsi to ease her stomach as she stood on the dock.

“No. There aren't any. The island is only a few miles long. No need for one, really. We're just going to have to walk.”

“Walk! In this heat? For a few
miles?
I don't think so.”

“Don't start acting up already. You don't have a choice, so let's go.” By the tone of her voice, it was clear that she wouldn't tolerate her daughter's attitude. Kyra huffed in exasperation but didn't say another word.

They strolled side by side down the dusty dirt road, passing what seemed like hundreds of palm trees and other plants whose names were unfamiliar. They passed by dozens of one-story homes and little shacks that served as tiny shops.

The homes were well kept and painted bright and lively colors. They were not run-down like Kyra had thought they'd be, and their colors blew the dull grays and browns of Chicago away. They had porches and green, grassy yards where, in some, children played as they were watched over by their elders.

As Kyra and her mother passed, heads turned. It was as if everyone knew they were foreigners. With a population of only 5,078, it wasn't difficult to tell.

Kyra and her mother had been walking for what seemed like infinity and a day when they finally stopped in front of a baby blue house. It was one story, like all the rest, and had a white wraparound porch with a chair swing in the front. There were white shutters flanking the windows, and a white door with a circular glass window in it. The stained-glass window had a design of flowers and small birds. There was a large front yard with the same thick green grass as the other houses on the block, and a dirt driveway, where a Jeep Cherokee just like their old one was parked. This was to be their new home.

“Oh, it's even more beautiful than I imagined!” Geneva Jones was giddy as she ran up to her new house, keys in hand. It was more than Kyra had expected, too, but her expression remained cold.

The inside was even lovelier than the outside. There was lots of white wicker furniture, some deep, dark mahogany tables, and in the living room, an entertainment center that held their TV and stereo system. There were a few colorful African paintings on the walls, as well. And there were small lamps and wide, leaf-shaped ceiling fans.

The dining room and kitchen were joined. There was a window over the sink looking onto the backyard, which had a small garden with colorful tropical plants and a patio set. There were also wide floor-to-ceiling sliding doors to get there from the kitchen.

Kyra's room had all white wicker furniture and soft pink walls. There was a queen-sized bed with a fluffy white comforter and lots of pillows, all in different shades of pink. There were a few chairs, a small glass table and a vanity. A nightstand on each side of the bed held a small lamp and pink flowers. The house left them both speechless, but Kyra refused to admit it. She made sure to find fault.

“My favorite color is blue.”

It was around seven that evening when Kyra opened her eyes again. She got up and changed into a short jeans skirt and a light green tank top. She put on her white and light green Air Force Ones that Makai had had specially made for her the previous summer. She smoothed her hands over her braids and took a deep breath. She was here. This was it. There was no going back—not for two years, anyway. She remembered the promise Makai had made to her before she left. She was missing him like crazy, and a full day hadn't even gone by.

Kyra walked out into the hall to hear her mother's voice coming from the living room. She assumed her mom must be watching TV, since she was in the habit of talking to the characters as though they could actually hear her advice. But she was on the telephone.

“Yes, we just got in not too long ago. The place is wonderful…amazing. Oh, tomorrow at noon? Sure, sure.…Yes, she'll love it. That'll be great. Okay, see you then. Bye.” Geneva Jones placed the phone in its cradle before turning to address Kyra, who was now staring blankly at the television. “Are you ready to go to the market? I found out that they have one a mile or so down.”

“Who was that on the phone?” Kyra didn't bother to so much as look at her mother. The television had her in a daze.

“Oh, that was my boss. He wants us to go up to Providenciales for the day tomorrow to have a tour, grab some lunch and show me around work.”

“I don't wanna go. Can I stay home?” Kyra's complaints came between her glances at the commercials flashing across the television screen.

“No. Don't be rude. You were invited, and there is no reason for you not to go. You don't have anything else to do. Now come on. Let's get to the market before it gets too dark.”

“Man, I do have a reason. It's called emotional distress.”

“You're so damn dramatic. You act like this is the end of the world,” her mother said, laughing off her statement.

Kyra redirected her focus and looked directly at her mother and said, “It is.”

 

Kyra hung back while her mom walked ahead along the dirt road. She was in no rush to do anything. She made painstaking efforts not to dirty or crease her shoes. She kept her head down, watching for every hole and puddle while contemplating the fact that she had gone from a city to an island in a matter of hours. Oh, what time could do.

The market was busy with chatter that was audible from around the corner and aromas that filled the air. There were stands overflowing with an array of fruits and vegetables in every shape and color one could imagine. Kyra had never seen anything like it in her life. It was almost fascinating. Almost.

Kyra wandered around glancing at things, stopping to pick up carvings and beaded jewelry to admire their craftsmanship. Her mother headed off in search of food items. But Kyra didn't mind making her way through the market alone. She was exhausted from thinking and was still in no mood to entertain her mother in conversation. The reality of her move weighed on her, and she was helpless to do anything about it. She was on the island now. But she was miserable in paradise.

After discovering a tobacco stand, Kyra bought two Cuban cigars, wondering if they would live up to their reputation. Then she slowly drifted to another stall that caught her attention. Her eyes roamed over all the candles. No two seemed to be the same. She picked up several, smelled them and set them down only to pick up yet another. As she sniffed each candle, she couldn't help but feel uneasy. Someone was watching.

Kyra lifted her eyes and spotted a group of boys standing in the shade of a neighboring tree. They appeared to be her age, maybe a little older. One had butterscotch-colored skin and a freshly cut head of hair. From his posture alone, she could tell he was muscular underneath his white T-shirt. Another one, tall and lean, had long cornrows and a light brown skin tone that was reminiscent of walnut.

Of the three guys, only one had dreadlocks, and he was the culprit. His skin was the shade of milk chocolate. He had a mustache, and a thin beard ran along the edge of his face and chin. Their eyes locked. And no matter how hard Kyra tried to turn away, she couldn't break his stare.

“How are you doing today, miss?” He spoke with a slight accent and was very polite. He blew all of Kyra's prejudices out of the water.

“I'm fine.”

“So are you new to the island? I've never seen you before. What is your name?”

“None of your business.” For the first time in their conversation, Kyra looked the stranger in the eye. She clutched the things she had bought as she gave him the once-over from head to toe.

“Well, None of Your Business, I'm Justin. And over there is my brother, Quentin, and my best friend, Michael.” Justin smiled at her feistiness and pointed in the direction of his friends. “The one with braids is my brother and the one in the white shirt is Michael.” Kyra could instantly see the resemblance between Justin and the boy he said was his brother.

“Look, that's nice and all, but if you came over here to get my number or somethin', then you're wastin' your time. You might as well walk over to your friends and make up a lie to tell them to keep you from bein' embarrassed.”

Without another word, Justin smiled and rejoined his boys. They exchanged words for only seconds before heading in the opposite direction. As they walked down the dirt road laughing, talking and kicking up dust, Kyra stared at them curiously.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Her mother's gentle tap on her arm made her jump.

“Yeah.”

“What are you looking at? Uh-oh, I see. You like one of those boys, don't you? Which one?” She poked fun at her daughter.

“None of 'em. You know I'm with Kai.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway, what did you buy?” her mother asked looking at the bag resting in Kyra's hands.

“Some candles. I got some pink and white ones to match my room,” she said, leaving out the exact inventory.

“That sounds cute. We should get going, though. We have to walk all the way home, and I still have to fix dinner.” She shifted the full basket of goods in her arms. It was obvious that her energy was dissipating.

“Okay,” Kyra said, still preoccupied, making sure to glance down the road one last time before starting on their trek back home.

Something inside Kyra had clicked when she saw Justin. She didn't understand it. Something she didn't understand made him linger in her mind all evening. She didn't like his dreads, but he was very, very, very attractive. Occasionally, she would snap out of her infatuation when thoughts of Makai resurfaced. Kai was her heart, even if her mind played with the memory of her encounter with Justin for the rest of the night.