Keyshia and Clyde (6 page)

Keyshia gasped for air as she kicked and flung her arms around. The whites of her eyes began to turn bright red. Just as she felt she would pass out, she heard a loud thud at the door, and seconds later her lungs filled with air. Gasping heavily, she watched the masked gunman beat down her molester with the weapon.

Rubbing her throat, Keyshia gained her composure and stood up and pounced on her assailant. “You fuckin' tried to kill me, you punk bastard!” she screamed, and began kicking and punching him.

Clyde pulled Keyshia's frail body off of Sugar, who then rose from the floor with the stealth and quickness of a black panther. All Clyde saw before a crushing blow landed to his head was a black streak of lightning. Clyde was down and dazed. Sugar Bear's three hundred–plus pounds were on top of Clyde as he rained down on his head with his fists for what seemed an eternity. All Clyde remembered before he passed out was stars.

When Clyde regained consciousness, he was facedown on the bed with his hands tied behind his back and his feet bound at the ankles. “Yeah, wake up, bitch.” Clyde looked around in a panic and saw Sugar Bear, who was still buck bone-ass naked, standing over him and smiling wickedly as he pointed the shotgun at him. “Yeah, yo' bitch ass done fucked up royally, nigga.”

Clyde tried to break free but realized that he was tied down. His eyes scanned the room, and he saw the girl on the floor in the corner. Sugar Bear walked over to his prey in victory. “Oh, nigga, me and you”—he paused to savor the moment—“we 'bout to get down and have ourselves a party.” He then put his heavy body on top of Clyde and said, “Now let's see what you look like.” Clyde could smell the alcohol on his hot breath. Sugar Bear slowly pulled off Clyde's mask.

Keyshia looked at him and squinted. She recognized him immediately as the boy who'd stolen her wallet. Clyde and Keyshia locked eyes, his pleading for help. Sugar said with excitement, “Oh, shit, you's some young pussy.” To Clyde's dismay, he felt Sugar's penis grow hard on his backside. “Oh yeah,” he salivated, “we gon' have ourself a good time.” Sugar Bear looked at Keyshia and said, “Bitch, I'm gonna let you leave.” He grabbed the stolen loot bag from off the floor and removed one of the wads of money and handed it to her. He clutched the shotgun in his hand and stared at her and gave her a stern warning: “Forget about everything you saw here. If I ever hear my name mentioned in the streets about this, I'm killing you and ya whole family.”

Keyshia believed him and nodded rapidly. Sugar put the shotgun aside by the wall and pulled down the boy's pants as Clyde wiggled and struggled violently. Keyshia picked up her purse and watched the terror in the helpless boy's eyes. She watched Sugar fight and punch the boy as he stuffed a sock down his throat. Keyshia watched Sugar mount Clyde's backside till his entire body was nearly undetectable under him. Sugar Bear looked up at Keyshia, frowned, and said, “You ain't gone yet, bitch?”

She made her way to the door. She was relieved when she exited the door, using the wall of the motel as support. She gathered her bearings and started to walk off but stopped in her tracks when she heard the muffled screams of the boy who had saved her. She fought with herself to keep moving on, but she couldn't walk any farther. She cursed and opened up her purse and stared at the money. She cringed once again as she closed her eyes and reached in her purse and pulled out her knife. Turning on her heels, she ran toward the door and entered and saw the big man brutally raping the other. Sugar didn't even have a chance to react as he watched Keyshia run toward him at full speed and embed the knife deep into his right eye. Clyde hurriedly rolled off the bed as Sugar Bear screamed in pain, bouncing off the walls, holding his bloodied eye. Keyshia ran toward Clyde and tried to untie the belt around his wrist, but her hands were trembling so badly that she made little headway. Sugar Bear managed to get on his feet and charge at Keyshia, knocking her off Clyde and into the wall, nearly rendering her unconscious. Sugar landed on his stomach, and he probed the floor for Keyshia and found her leg and pulled it toward him. Keyshia kicked him violently in the head and face, but he refused to let go. Just then, Clyde got his hand free and began to untie his legs, eyeing the shotgun near the wall. Finally free, he ran and retrieved the shotgun and took aim at his rapist's wide body.

“I'll kill you, I'll kill you!” Sugar Bear cursed as he pounded on Keyshia.

Keyshia fought viciously to ward off the beast, but it was a losing battle. She spotted Clyde with the weapon and yelled, “What are you waiting on . . . shoot this motherfucka!”

Clyde waited for a good shot with Keyshia out of the way, but he couldn't get one; he aimed again, then lowered his gun in frustration. Clyde knew the impact from the shotgun blast would have torn them both to shreds. He gripped the shotgun tightly and hit Sugar with the butt instead. He pounded and pounded him until Sugar finally collapsed on top of Keyshia. Blood and brain matter was everywhere, including on Keyshia and Clyde.

Chapter 8
_______________

Clyde and Keyshia drove inside the stolen car in silence. Both were numb, because they'd killed a man tonight and the bloody evidence saturated their faces and clothing. Keyshia curled up and began sobbing softly. Clyde wanted to tell her that she was going to be okay, but he didn't have the words at that moment. He was scared, too. He didn't bother to ask her if she wanted him to drop her off somewhere, because he knew it would be in his best interest that she was in the proper state of mind before they separated. He decided to drive to New Jersey and stay at a hotel so they could get cleaned up and buy some new clothing, and most important, he wanted to make sure Keyshia wouldn't rat on him, although he wasn't too worried since she was just as guilty. Clyde didn't know any particular place in New Jersey to go, so when he saw a sign that read, atlantic city, he said, “Fuck it,” and took that course. He had a bag full of money and jewelry, so he felt confident he could hold it down out there for a minute.

After pulling into a hotel in Atlantic City, Clyde parked the vehicle far away from the front entrance of the hotel's parking lot. Twenty minutes earlier, he had stopped off at a gas station and removed his bloodied getaway clothes and washed his face and hands. He looked over at Keyshia, who slept like a baby and was still curled up in a near fetal position, and smiled. She looked so much like an angel compared with the wild woman she was last night. He still couldn't believe that the little girl next to him had saved his life, twice.

“Yo,” Clyde said softly, not wanting her to panic from a loud sound. “Yo,” he repeated.

Keyshia opened her eyes and looked around slowly, unsure of where she was at that moment. She looked at Clyde and asked, “Where we at?”

“Atlantic City.”

Keyshia was confused and frowned.

“Jersey,” Clyde explained.

“New Jersey?” she asked. “Why's we all the ways in anovah state?” For the first time, Clyde heard the thick country accent in her voice.

“ 'Cause I ain't had nowhere else to take you,” he said flatly. “Plus,” he continued, “I didn't think you wanted me to take you home with all that blood on your body and clothes.”

It was daylight, and for the first time Keyshia noticed that Sugar Bear's blood was all over her. Knowing the answer, she had to ask anyway. “He dead?”

Clyde nodded and said, “I think so.” Keyshia turned and gazed out the window. Clyde was speechless. He didn't know what to tell her because he'd never killed before. “It's like this: I know how you feel about that. I feel the same way, and I ain't never killed nobody either.” Keyshia turned slightly and glanced into his eyes. “But that big nigga was trying to kill you and me!”

Keyshia thought back to the pain and remembered how Sugar's hands felt around her throat. Clyde shrugged and said, “I'd rather be feeling guilty and alive than dead and stinkin' any day.” Keyshia searched his eyes and knew he wasn't lying. Out of nowhere, she started to laugh to mask her fear.

Clyde said seriously, “Listen, I think it's best if we lay low for a minute to get our weight up.” She stared at him, confused, and he rephrased it: “Get some food and rest.” Keyshia nodded in agreement. “You think your mom would miss you if you gone a couple of days? 'Cause if so, you better make a phone call and let her know you all right.”

Keyshia put her head down and said, “Naw, nobody that matters will be looking for me.”

Clyde watched her for a moment and then said, “Okay, we good then.”

Keyshia agreed. For some reason, she trusted her coconspirator. Maybe it was his reassuring eyes and soft tone, his strange, bad-boy persona, or maybe it was the fact that he'd risked his life and came back and saved hers.

“I'm gonna pay for the room, so just chill for a minute and I'll be right back.” He didn't even wait for a response before he was out the door. Clyde gave himself a once-over, and after making sure no blood was visible, he swaggered with authority toward the hotel's entrance.

When they entered the room, they both noticed how much bigger and cleaner it was than the motels they were used to in the city. This hotel room had two full-size beds, a bathroom, and a Jacuzzi. Keyshia walked over to the bathroom and peeked inside, obviously impressed, and then went over to the Jacuzzi and said, “They musta made a mistake, 'cause they got two tubs, one in the bathroom and one right in the open.”

Clyde didn't say a word. Keyshia walked over to one of the beds and was amazed at the size and the amount of pillows and sat down to test it. Lying backward, she melted from the comfort of the padded mattress and stared up at the ceiling, smiling all the while. “Dag, they got two tubs, two beds, a telephone, room service, and mad pillows. I could sleep forever.” Clyde watched her act like a child's first time at Disneyland and smiled. She popped up suddenly and stared at Clyde and asked, “You ain't gonna try ta kill me or nuffin, are you?”

Clyde chuckled. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have did it in the car while you was snoring.”

Keyshia smiled smugly and joked, “I's don't snore.” They both smiled and stared into each other's eyes.

Clyde snapped out of it first and said, “But, yo, you could take a shower first. I already ordered housekeeping to bring up some robes and shit.” He looked at his disheveled clothing and said, “Later, we can go to a mall or something and get me and you some outfits, 'cause we got to get rid of everything we got on—everything!” She nodded. Clyde shrugged and said, “What's your name, anyway?”

“My name is Keyshia.”

“My name is Clyde.”

Chapter 9
_______________

Keyshia awoke in a cold sweat. She was having a nightmare of the event that transpired nearly twenty-four hours ago. She jumped off the bed and cowered between the two beds. Her eyes searched the room for the enemy as she gripped the covers. It took her several moments to realize exactly where she was. Looking around, she noticed Clyde standing behind her with an expressionless look on his face. Finally, he held up two plastic bags and said, “I got breakfast. You hungry?”

Keyshia stood up and adjusted her bathrobe and looked around for her clothing that she knew she'd placed on top of the bed.

“I told you we had to get rid of our clothes, so I got rid of 'em,” Clyde said. A mean scowl came over Keyshia's face, but before she could respond he added, “Don't worry, I put your
crack,
” he said, “and the other thing, if that's what you're worried about, on the table.” Keyshia looked at the table, and everything that she had in her pocket was there. She felt relieved yet ashamed.

They sat on the bed and ate their food in silence until Clyde asked, “Yo, if you don't mind me asking, what the fuck was you dreaming about?”

Keyshia stopped chewing her food and hesitated before she spoke. “Like you don't know?” she answered. “I don't go 'round killin' people for a livin'.”

Clyde smirked and took the slight on his chin and continued, “I don't either, 'cause I don't usually stick around long enough to catch beef, instead of playing ‘captain save a ho.' ”

Keyshia rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but this ho saved yo' punk ass from getting a black dick stuck up it. Right?”

“Yeah, but 'least I wasn't giving it up for free. I saw you enjoying that black dick down your tonsils when I busted in, though.”

Keyshia stood up and flew into a rage. “Motherfucka, I don't give shit up for free, that was business, my business! And what yo' punk ass need to do is be thankful, 'cause I saved yo' ass twice—
twice,
motherfucka—so you just remember that shit when you look at this ho!”

Clyde stood up and gave her an icy stare and wanted to counter so badly that he turned red, but he knew she was right and simply yelled, “I'm fuckin' thankful!”

“You're fuckin' welcome!” she screamed back.

They both sat down and continued eating their pancakes and sausages in silence.

Earlier that morning, Clyde had gotten rid of all the clothing and wiped down the car in a 7-Eleven parking lot. He'd gotten some basic clothing such as underwear, shorts, T-shirts, and flip-flops in the hotel lobby store for Keyshia to put on until they got to the mall.

That afternoon, he called the front desk and requested the location of the nearest shopping center and a taxi. Keyshia stared out the window of the taxi as they passed hotel after hotel. Each one seemed to have huge electronic billboards advertising upcoming performers.

They rode in silence until Keyshia suddenly asked him, “How much did you take him for?”

Clyde was taken by surprise by the question, “What?”

“You heard me, how much did you take off of Sugar Bear?” she repeated.

Clyde looked at the driver, who seemed to be paying attention to traffic. He turned his attention back to Keyshia and whispered, “What the fuck are you asking me some shit like that where anybody could hear you?”

“Fuck him,” Keyshia said as she gestured toward the driver. “I want to know how much money and jewelry you got off of him!”

Clyde wanted to kick her out of the cab right then and there, but he knew he wouldn't do it. He also knew that he couldn't outtalk her, so he relented, for the moment. “All right, I'll tell you, but keep your voice down.” She folded her arms and twisted her lip at him. “He had three bankrolls with a total of two thousand dollars in each, so that's a little more than six g's in cash.” Keyshia's heart jumped, but she kept a poker face as she listened to Clyde talk about more money than she'd ever seen in her life. “As far as the jewelry goes, I can only guess.” Clyde frowned and began calculating, “Umm, he ain't have nothing but gold; it ain't like he was pushing platinum or something, that nigga was still old school. But it was quality and had good weight and some diamonds, so I guess I could get from my connect 'bout another three or four g's.” He nodded more to himself and asked, “Why you asked about that, anyway?”

She put on her best sass face and said without hesitation, “ 'Cause I should get half!”

Clyde stared at her as she returned his look without so much as blinking. He thought about all he'd put her through, plus the fact that she'd come back to get in the mix with that fool when she could have bounced with the knot of money he'd offered her.

“I'll give you two thousand,” he said, stone-faced.

“Three thousand, plus half the jewelry,” she countered.

“Three thousand, cash money now, and another two when I get back to the city.”

Keyshia paused and looked at his face for a moment, then agreed. “All right,” she said slowly. She extended her hand and said as she rolled her eyes, “But money in hand is the best plan.”

Clyde knew this girl was game tight as he reached in his pocket and counted out three thousand in front of her and put it in her hand. She took the money and put it in one hand and extended her hand once again. Clyde frowned as if she were buggin'. “Fuck you still got your hand out for? I told you I'll hit you off with the jewelry money later.”

Keyshia looked him in the eye again and said, “Don't think I forgot the wallet you stole from me at Marshall's that day. It's time to pay the piper.” Clyde could only envy her tenacity, and he chuckled.

Inside the huge mall, Keyshia looked around in awe; she had never seen so many stores under one roof. They walked together slowly, undecided about what store they should patronize first, until Keyshia spotted Macy's. Her eyes lit up and she turned to Clyde. “Oh shoot, they got a Macy's!”

Clyde didn't see what all the excitement was about. “So, you act like you ain't ever been to a Macy's before. You never went to the one on Thirty-fourth Street?”

Keyshia was still ogling the store and answered, “Yeah, I been there plenty of times, but this is gonna be the first time I went there with money!” She grabbed Clyde by the arm. “Come on!”

Clyde stood by and watched Keyshia try on pair after pair of shoes and one outfit after another. Every time she tried on a pair of anything, she posed for Clyde and asked his opinion, which he gave her. For some reason, he enjoyed seeing her pick out clothes and shop wide-eyed like a child, as if she'd never had an experience like this before in her life.

Glowing, Keyshia ran up to Clyde with yet another outfit on, waiting for him to give her his opinion. “Well”—she turned around—“how's do I look with this on me?”

Clyde noticed how whenever she was relaxed and calm, her country accent came out, but whenever she was angry, her language was straight out of the garbage can. He looked over Keyshia's shoulder and watched a security guard standing fifteen feet away, watching their every move.

Keyshia caught Clyde's eyes and turned to where he was looking. She noticed the security guard acting as if he were concentrating on the rack in front of him. She turned back to Clyde and said, “You worrying 'bout Po-po behind you?” She sucked her teeth and told Clyde, “You ain't got nothing to worry 'bout. We's normal today, and you got to learn to play the role sometime. Acting like you belong here is how you get over.” She continued doing as she was and said, “Let that motherfucka look all he want, and ignore his ass. In the end he gon' wind up feeling stupid.”

Boxes of shoes were scattered all over the area where Keyshia sat. Trying on the last pair of shoes, she called the sales manager for the umpteenth time, and even Clyde knew the lady was getting frustrated with her finicky ways. “Yo, why you keep bothering that lady like that? She gonna get tired of you after a while.”

Clyde's statement didn't even move her to answer him. She simply stayed in character and said, “You want to know why, Clyde Barker?” Coming out of the last shoe, she continued, “ 'Cause I know she ain't doing her job. I useta go downtown and spend hours just wanderin' around stores like these. I useta see white ladies buying up the store, and I saw how they got treated. They be yellin' to salesladies that they like this and like that, they carried it fo' them as they stood by waitin' ta carry another piece like they their own personal clothes carrier.” She looked at Clyde. “If I'm gonna spend this kinds of money, that bitch gonna do her job to earn her commission.”

The sales manager came over, frustration written on her face. “What can I help you with now, or did you finally find a pair that you like?”

Keyshia remained calm as her voice changed. “Yes, yes, I did, and would you be kind enough to have them rung up and packed for me?”

The sales manager scanned the dozen boxes of shoes and boots and asked, “Okay, which one do you want?”

Keyshia said, “Why, I want all of them, and I'm paying cash.”

The saleslady smiled as she repeated, “You, you said you want all of them?”

Keyshia nodded. Clyde enjoyed watching her work the lady over. The manager let out a goofy laugh and said, “Well, all I got to figure out now is how to get all these boxes over to the sales register.”

Keyshia suggested, “Well, there a big strapping-looking employee right over there.” She pointed at the security officer who was stalking them. “And I'm sure that he may be more than willing to assist you.”

She smiled at Keyshia and said, “Thank you, I think I will ask him.” The saleslady raised her hand in the air and snapped her fingers in his direction. The security officer ran toward her at breakneck speed, knocking over a few items in the process. He was a huge, grim-faced man. By the time he got to them, he was out of breath and his barrel chest moved in and out, ready to rumble. The sales manager simply pointed to the floor and told him, “Carry all these boxes over to the register for our guest.” She walked away.

The security officer stood there like a dunce, so Clyde jumped in and said, “You heard her, you peeping motherfucka, carry all our boxes to the register!”

After Keyshia paid the bill, she asked the saleslady to hold on to the boxes of shoes because she hadn't finished shopping. She was more than happy to oblige. Keyshia then turned to Clyde, smiling. Clyde scratched his head as he looked at the long white receipt in her hand and said, “I see that you are one of those expensive girls.”

Keyshia unfolded the receipt and continued smiling. “You only live once.”

Not convinced, Clyde said, “True, but when that shit runs out, what are you gonna do then?”

“I just worry 'bout that when it happens. It wouldn't be my first time or gonna be my last time I don't have shit.”

“But still, jerking your money on material shit ain't the answer. You never gonna know when you gonna need it.”

Keyshia dismissed him again. “You sound like you old. You worry too much. Clyde, you got to learn to live a little or you life gonna pass you by. I don't know how happy your life is, but nobody never gave me shit!” Clyde remained silent. Keyshia picked up on it and said, “Yo, I don't know 'bout you, but I ain't never shop like that before. I ain't ever have nobody ta do something like that for me. I watched other people do it, I dreamt about it, and I promised myself first time I get a chance, I'm gonna see how it feel.” She grabbed his arm and looked in his eyes. “Because of yo' help, I's know how it feels ta be special.”

Clyde nodded. “I feel you, nobody ever did that for me either. I always had to go out and take mines, so I guess I wasn't too concerned about that other shit.” They walked to a bench and sat down.

Keyshia asked him, “You live with yo' momma and pa?” Clyde put his head down and shook it slowly.

“Where they at?” she asked.

Unable to look her in the eye, he stared at the floor and said, “My mother's been in the hospital since I was three, and my dad's been in prison about the same time.”

Keyshia saw him growing uncomfortable and changed the subject. She put on an excited smile and said, “Guess what?”

Clyde began to grow fond of her childlike smile and said, “Oh no. What now?”

“I'm taking you out to a concert!”

Caught off guard, he asked, “What concert?”

“Lyfe . . . Lyfe Jennings,” Keyshia said excitedly. “You heard of him before?”

“Hell, yeah, that's my nigga. He sings my anthem, ‘Stick Up Kid.' ”

“Well, I saw one of the billboards at a hotel we passed in the taxi on our way here saying he gonna be there tonight. You down?”

She stuck out her fist, and Clyde tapped it lightly and said, “I'm down.”

Keyshia grabbed him by his arm. “Good, now come with me to get my hair did and then go find you something to wear for the show!”