Texts from Bennett (34 page)

“He was? You were?” I said, looking at Bennett, then Leshaun.

“Yeah, homie. If shit goes down, I’m there to bang. But most of the time, shit don’t go down. And I hate . . . fuckin’
hate
listenin’ to niggas argue. I don’t make my presence known unless I have to. On Crip, I’m like Spider-Man, fool. All in da shadows and shit.”

“No, man, Batman was the one in the shadows,” I said.

“Mac, fuck you and your fuckin’ comic book undwears. I’m like all them Bat, Cat, Spider, one-half animal, one-half man, niggas. I’m
in the shadows, ready to fuck shit up, and I’m ghost after I do it,” Leshaun proclaimed.

Visions of Bath Salt Cindy somersaulting midair occupied my mind. Made sense.

“Okay, so I have some good news and some bad news, my sweet family,” I said.

They all looked at me silently, clearly unsure what to expect.

“It’s time for you guys to move out. That includes you, Leshaun.”

All three of them looked at the ground with hurt, puppy-dog eyes. Not a single one of them could’ve even been fathoming an argument against it. They had to know this day would eventually come.

“Yeah . . . well . . . that sucks,” Bennett said.

“Now, now, my precious cousin. You didn’t even hear the good news!” I said.

All three of them looked up at me, with optimistic eyes, but still had frowns on their faces.

“Guys, I’m not
kicking you out,
” I explained. “I mean, you can’t stay here, but don’t think I’m kicking you out. I can’t thank any of you enough. The pain I went through with the Harper breakup . . . you guys all being here for me. Telling me amazing stories about my mom. It healed me. Made me a better person,” I said.

I pulled my checkbook and a pen out of the end-table drawer next to the couch. “What I’m getting at is that it’s just time for you guys to get your own place. You know? Before you overstay your welcome. Does that make sense?” I said.

“No,” Bennett said.

“Yeah, we give you all our Southern Baptist pimp wisdom and you boot us out? Damn, homie, I see how it is,” Leshaun said, clearly hurt.

“Guys, listen. I actually met a new girl last night! Because of you! We’ve been texting all day today. This wouldn’t have happened without you guys! I’m realizing you’re my friends now. Not just my family. But my friends. And I don’t want to ruin that friendship. Does that not make sense, guys?”

“Yes it does, Pookie,” Aunt Lillian said. “And we are grateful for all you’ve done for us, honey. Let’s give Mac a round of applause
boys, come on,” Lillian said. With a little more prodding from her, Bennett and Leshaun broke into a full round of applause.

“Uhm, thank you. I’m not sure if that’s an appropriate time to clap. But thanks. Anyway, that’s as bad as the bad news is going to get,” I said. “Now here’s some good news for you guys.”

I set the checkbook on my lap and popped the pen cap off with my teeth. “All the money you guys have given me, all the cash that Bennett has busted his tail for, all that money? I put in a savings account for you guys. I didn’t spend it. I’m not even going to keep it. It’s for you guys.”

“What?” Lillian said.

“For real?” Bennett said.

“Yep. I love you guys. Leshaun, you’re like my little brother or somethin’. I aspire to have your type of swagger, dude. And, Bennett, I just wanted to show you that hard work pays off. You’ve been putting in the work. Now it’s time for the payoff. Bennett, man. I had my doubts about you. I don’t agree with everything you do in your life. But I couldn’t be prouder to call you my cousin, dude. You’re a top-notch guy and an inspiration. And, Lillian, you’re just such a pure person. I’ve learned so much about life and being a person through you. I just . . . I’m proud of you for being the nucleus of this household.”

“Oh, Pookie, you’re just the sweetest thing!” Lillian yelled.

“You know, Lillian? It’s not me being sweet. Your son worked his butt off and deserves this money. And you inspired us all. Why don’t you take this money and go get started looking for a nice lil’ apartment? There’s tons in this area, renting right now. You guys could be moved in in a week, week and a half if you find one,” I said.

I decided to donate a little money myself, throwing in some extra cash and wrote the check out for $5,000, handing it to Bennett.

“Man . . . hell yeah,” Bennett said. He stood up and stuck his hand out. “You my nigga for life, Mac.” I shook his hand and hugged him.

“Bennett. You’re my friend and cousin for life,” I said.

“Leshaun, honey, you just plan on movin’ your ass in with us. Okay?” Lillian said. “We’ll hide you from the cops for a while.”

“On Crip, nigga,” he said, throwing up a C sign to Aunt Lillian. She smiled and closed her eyes.

“It’s Raining Men” began playing on my phone. I opened my texts, and while the rest of the family celebrated the news, I got a surprise of my own.

CHRISTINA:
By chance are you hungry?

ME:
Yes actually, why?

CHRISTINA:
I had to return a sweater at this boutique I shop at, which is pretty close to your area. Wanna take me out to eat?

ME:
You’re by my house right now?

CHRISTINA:
Yes. It’s not a coincidence. I kinda decided you were going to take me out to eat tonight.

ME:
Okay. Sure. Wanna meet me here in 15?

CHRISTINA:
Sure, what’s your address?

ME:
12345 Fake Address St.

CHRISTINA:
Oh, you can’t give me your real address because this is an internationally published book, right?

ME:
Exactly. So for a deus ex machina, I’m going to just telepathically provide you with my address so you can meet me here in 15 minutes.

CHRISTINA:
Perfect. See you soon!

“All right family, I’m gonna get ready to go on a date. The new girl is coming by!” I said.

“Ay, wait, Mac. I’mma go get somethin’ real quick, aiight? Don’t leave yet. Okay?” Bennett said.

“Uh, okay. I’m gonna change clothes, then go wait outside for Christina so she can find the house, okay?”

“Fa sho. I got somethin’ for both you and the new girl. Leshaun come peep this shit too, Cuz.”

I was guessing he was going to give us Molly powder, or Xanax, or a joint, or something we would throw away up the street. Either way, he was being very nice, and I had to get ready.

I stood outside on my driveway waiting for Christina. Across the street and one house to the right, Edgard was removing Jean Paul’s training wheels from his bike while his son sat on the driveway, drawing a picture. Mariam sat in the crisp, evening sun.

A black Range Rover pulled up to my house and slowed to a stop in front of it. I had no idea Christina drove such a dope-ass car.

The window rolled down. “Hi,” she said, smiling wide.

“Well, hello,” I said. “Nice car.”

“Thanks. It was my mom’s.”

The front door opened and out came Bennett and Leshaun.

“That must be Bennett. And what’s the other kid’s name again?” she said.

“Leshaun,” I said.

“Thaaaat’s right. Leshaun.”

“What up? How you doin’, girl? Welcome to Da Mafia house. I heard you a boss bitch. My nigga Mac kinda feelin’ you, so you must be good shit!” Bennett yelled.

“I’ve heard good things about you too, Bennett!” she yelled.

“For real?” Bennett yelled.

“Yep! But I better stay away from you. I heard you’re quite the expert at making chicks feel bad about your ex-girlfriend Leah,” she yelled.

Bennett and Leshaun started laughing and walking down the driveway toward us.

“Don’t give my secrets away, mothafucka!” Bennett said, sarcastically.

“I won’t. Your secret is safe with me. Mac was telling me about all of it today over text. I gotta make someone bow to the KK at some point in my life,” Christina said.

“Word up. Okay, so I wanted to kick a lil’ sumthin’ for y’all. Jus’ to wish you luck on yo’ date and shit. Dis is jus’ some shit I was workin’ on. Tryin’ to expand niggas’ minds and shit.”

We stood silently as he flipped through some pages in his notebook.

“Aight, y’all. Dis one is called, ‘Gregarious Gangsta,’ ” he said.

He proceeded to rap the lyrics for us:

Yo.

I’m a gregarious gangsta, lugubrious thirst.

I flummox meloncholy niggas with vociferous ominous words.

I refrain from utilizing curses or showing ephemeral insolence to bitches.

I’m nefarious, gratifying, and rapacious in cobalt stitches.

I’m a orthogonal symbiotic nigga with—

But suddenly a booming voice cut Bennett off: “Well, well, well. Looks like we got some racism going on up ova here!”

From the side of my house emerged Franklins, the Yorkshire terrier; Milton Cole, my backyard neighbor; and Carletta Cole, Milton’s enormously big, black, beautiful (according to herself) and proud of it, wife.

“Man, fuck! Why I can’t ever finish my raps! Fuck!” Bennett yelled.

“Now which one of y’all was just yellin’ some old racist shit at my house? Huh? Bow to the KKK?” Carletta yelled.

Carletta Cole was no less than four hundred pounds of pure corn syrup and bleached flour–fed fat cells. She was wearing a nightgown that was the size of a parachute and sported very short, butch hair.

Christina appeared mortified. I stood in front of her to make sure Carletta didn’t try to dogpile/smother her.

“Y’all wanna yell some ole KKK shit at my husband? Huh? Y’all wanna make fun of his stutter? Do ya? Well that shit don’t fly with Big Mama. We don’t do racism around here on the wireless internet. No, we sure do not.” Up within about fifteen feet of us now, she was looking each of us in the eyes, one by one. You could hear her lungs laboring to suck in adequate oxygen, making it sound like she was choking, but it was just her breathing. Milton stood behind her quietly.

“Chill. Ain’t nobody here racist. These are all my friends,” Leshaun said, “It was a inside joke. Damn.”

“A inside joke, was it?” Carletta said. “Whas’ yo’ name?”

“Leshaun, aka Loony. So fall back—ain’t nobody racist over here.”

“How do I know you ain’t a slave bein’ told to say that by these white devils?” she pressed him.

“Haha, what? A slave? Yo, go on with that shit.”

“Hmmm. Nope. I don’t believe you. You on the payroll, Dejuan.”

“Leshaun. Not Dejuan. Not Tyquan. Not Tyshaun.
Le-shaun,
” Leshaun said.

“So who was it?” Carletta said. “Which one of you wants to get beat the fuck down, right now on this driveway?”

She poked her bottom lip out and eyeballed all of us back and forth. She was
furious,
like she was ready to eat someone maybe. Part of me started to seriously worry about this.

“Oh. My. God,” Christina whispered.

A little too loudly. D’oh.

“It was
you
!” Carletta said, barreling toward Christina. “Bitch, don’t you see Big Mama could eat you alive? Now you better go over and kiss my husband’s feet before I tear yo’ face off.”

For her part, Christina said nothing.

“Leave her alone. She didn’t do anything,” I said, remaining tightly in front of Christina. “Like Leshaun, our
black
friend, told you. It was a joke. It has nothing to do with you guys. It was an accident.”

“Four-hundred-thirty-nine years of oppression wasn’t no accident, white boy. Yo’ little girlfriend about to get body slammed like WWE wrestlin’. Get out of my way before I reverse suplex you too.”

She clearly loved and studied professional wrestling because she was doing a great impression of the Rock, making the same face he did in the intros. Except she was five times bigger than him, and five million times uglier.

“Now I’mma count to three. And if by the time I get to three, this little skinny bitch ain’t kissed my beautiful handsome prince Milton’s feet and apologize for traumatizin’ him, I’mma DDT her into this driveway.”

Edgard picked Jean Paul up and gave him to Mariam, who carried him into the house. He stood quietly, staring at what was transpiring in our driveway, before pacing backward into the dark pit of his garage’s shadows.

“One . . .” Carletta said, cracking her knuckles.

I felt Christina latch onto my back. As intense of a situation as this was, it felt good to be touched by her for the first time.

“Two . . .” Carletta said, crouching down into the same stance as an NFL linebacker. “Move out the way, honkey. This is woman-on-woman business.”

I had no idea what was going to happen when she said “three.” It felt so inevitable that I was going to be in a bonafide fistfight with this giant woman that I began quivering, waiting for it. I knew Brazilian jujitsu, but it’s not exactly easy to perform the mounted triangle choke on a woman who is five times bigger than you.

Here it comes.

“Thr—”

My front door slammed open, nearly shattering. Every single person in the driveway was startled by the noise and twirled around to see where the noise came from.

Mercedes. And she was revved up. “Nah, fuck dat, nigga! This right here is gangsta-bitch-on-
fat
-bitch business!” she yelled.

Carletta stood back up and cocked her fists back, ready to throw a punch. Mercedes began to unhook her earrings and hand them to Bennett. Bennett looked at me. I looked at him.

“Sorry, homie, she slept in da basement last night. Dat sex just too good, mane. I’m weak for it,” Bennett said.

I didn’t care. A crisis was under way—Mercedes had burst out of my front door like an act of God, but she and Carletta were about to massacre each other in the driveway.

“What? You wanna get put in the sleeper hold, lil’ white girl?” Carletta said.

Mercedes walked up to Carletta without a skip in her step and put her nose against Carletta’s.

“I want yo’ 958-pound ass to listen to me real fuckin’ carefully. My name is Mercedes. No, that ain’t a nickname, my mama named me Mercedes. She in prison for grand theft auto. She used to steal Mercedes cars. She gave birth to me in prison and named me that. Now. Every single mothafucka you see here in this driveway knows I’m about the craziest fuckin’ bitch that ever lived. They see you and think about Twinkies, and HoHos and Snickers ice-cream bars and too much Dr Pepper and shit. They see me and think about blood, missing teeth, and crackin’ a bitch’s skull like I wanna hold her fuckin’ brain or somethin’. Now I got some really mothafuckin’ friendly advice for yo’ water-buffalo-lookin’ ass. If you lay a
finger
on that beautiful girl right there”—she turned to smile at Christina—“who I haven’t met yet but I hope to soon”—she turned back to She-Rock and continued to point at the rest of us—“or you lay a
finger
on Mac right there, or you lay a
finger
on Leshaun right there, or you even
look
at my king right there, my royal beast of love, Bennett, fuck a
finger
, ho. You even
look
at Bennett like you wanna hurt him, or fuck him, or touch him, I’m gonna have ten different ambalaaances pullin’ up in about ten minutes.