The Pact (9 page)

Marcus

The
restaurant was decorated in bright yellow, red and orange. Spanish music played softly in the background, and Mexican spices were in the air. My stomach growled as I checked out what some of the other patrons were eating: tacos, enchiladas, burritos. Chips were being dipped into salsa, and wineglasses were being turned up by some of the ladies in the place. There was laughter in the air as we stood there waiting to be seated.

“
Hola,
Leon!” A beautiful Hispanic woman approached, wearing very provocative clothing and bouncing her hips way too hard.

“
Hola,
Marianna.
¿Cómo está?
” Leon started speaking Spanish very fluently, and I was in awe.

I remembered taking Spanish when I was in the eighth grade. I’d just barely passed with a low C. Spanish was not a class that interested me, and the teacher I’d had, Ms. Callahan, wasn’t a very good one in my opinion. Each day she loaded us down with homework assignments and projects that I didn’t understand, and she never even attempted to make the class interesting. Even though Ms. Callahan explained that it was essential that we learn a second language, I swore that I would never need Spanish again in life. But now I wanted to know what they were saying.

“Estoy bien, Leon. ¿Y usted?”
the woman responded, telling Leon that she was doing fine. She asked how he was doing.

“Estoy bien,”
Leon responded.

As southwestern-style music continued to drift throughout the place, the Hispanic woman, who had round hips and large breasts, escorted us to a table near the window. Her face was a pretty vanilla color, and she had long, black, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her smile brightened the room, and deep dimples danced across her round cheeks. I could’ve sworn that she was flirting with Leon or he was flirting with her as I slid into the booth and opened my menu. I took a peek over the top of the menu and caught Leon giving Marianna a glance that made me want to pull my cell phone out and take a picture so that I could show my mother.

“This is Marcus,” Leon said to Marianna.

“Very nice to meet you, Marcus,” Marianna said in her broken English. “You’re a very handsome young man.”

“Thank you,” I said to her, trying my best not to blush. I couldn’t help it.

“What can I get you to drink, Marcus?” I just knew my face had turned beet red as Marianna flashed her award-winning smile my way. She was beautiful, and she made me nervous.

“I’ll just have a Cherry Coke,” I told her.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have Cherry Coke.” She smiled. “I can bring you a Coke and add a cherry. How ’bout that?”

I was mesmerized, and smiled back. “That’s cool.”

I didn’t even drink regular Coke, but here I was ordering one. And when Marianna disappeared, I couldn’t help wishing she would return soon, just so I could look at her.

“Snap out of it.” Leon laughed, and I wondered how long he’d been watching me watch her. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

“She’s all right,” I lied, and then hid my face behind the menu.

Browsing through the menu, I decided on a combination meal that included tacos, enchiladas and a chicken burrito. I had a huge appetite, and since Leon was paying, I didn’t mind ordering exactly what I wanted. I needed to check him out, anyway, see if he was the guy my mother thought he was. She kept raving about how wonderful Leon was…Leon this and Leon that. I needed to check him out for myself. It was her idea that we get together and get to know each other, but I was all for it. And what better way to do that than to hit him in his pockets, see if he was cheap. I wanted to feel him out, see if his intentions were good or if he was just a playboy out to stomp on my mother’s heart. I wasn’t having that, and I wanted him to know that up front.

“So, Leon, do you have any kids?” I asked the question that had been burning in my mind since I first met him.

“I have a daughter, Marcus. She’s about your age,” he said as he perused the menu. “Her name is Jasmine, and she lives in Maryland with her mother.”

“Why doesn’t she live in Texas with you?”

“Well, it doesn’t really work like that. Her mother wanted to have custody of her. She’s really better off living with her mother. Girls need that motherly love, you know what I mean?” he asked. “It’s just like you, living with your father. It’s always good for a young man to grow up around his father. Right?”

“I guess,” I said, a million other questions zooming around in my head as Marianna brought our drinks.

My eyes took in all of her as she placed my Coke with the cherry in it on the table. When she smiled my way, I began to blush again. Marianna had a strange effect on men, and I could tell that Leon felt it, too. It was as if the two of us were frozen in time as she took our orders. She disappeared, and I was glad because I needed to regain my composure before I lost all my cool points in front of the man I was supposed to be investigating.

“Why do you live here instead of Maryland?” I asked. “What brought you to Texas?”

“I came here to work for a law firm that made me a great offer, one that I couldn’t refuse.”

“So you chose your career over being near your daughter?” I asked. “You sold out, huh?”

“I didn’t sell out. I made a career choice that was best for both of us…my daughter and me. The more money I make, the better off Jasmine is.”

“Even if it means you can’t see her that often?”

“It’s really not that serious, Marcus,” Leon said. “I see Jasmine during the Christmas holidays and on spring break, and that’s plenty for us.”

“Why did you break up with her mother?” I asked. I knew I was being nosy, but these were important questions that needed a response.

“Well, Jasmine’s mother and I were divorced five years ago. She decided that my long hours did not work for her any longer. She accused me of being a workaholic,” he said. “That’s what I like about your mother. She’s a hard worker, too, and doesn’t mind my long hours.”

I guess he had a point. Mom was definitely a workaholic. But in my opinion she needed someone to help her relax, not someone who was just like her. I sat there across the table from Leon trying to determine what it was that my mother saw in him. He was a normal-looking man—he wasn’t Denzel or anybody. It wasn’t his looks that attracted her to him, that was for sure. He was skinny, and didn’t appear to be someone who spent much time at the gym. He had money, but so did Mom. She was very successful and could buy just about anything she wanted. I had decided that Leon was a guy of mystery and it was up to me to crack the code.

“Did your daughter have to go through therapy over your divorce?”

“No. Over time, she was okay,” he said.

“Well, I had to go to therapy when my parents got a divorce. My grades dropped and everything.”

“But you snapped out of it eventually?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

“The important thing is, your parents are happier apart than they probably ever were together. I don’t believe that people should stay in unhealthy relationships just for the heck of it. Everybody loses in that situation.”

I didn’t comment. I still believed that my parents could’ve made it work if they’d really wanted to. I think they gave up hope.

“You play ball?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I can play a little bit.” He smiled. “You wanna hit the courts later?”

“Yeah, that would be cool.”

I wondered if Leon could shoot hoops and couldn’t wait to get him out there on the court to find out. After dinner, we ended up at a local YMCA. In the locker room, Leon tossed me a pair of his old shorts and a T-shirt. Both of us changed quickly and rushed out onto the shiny buffed floor, where guys twice my age ran up and down the court. Some of them had bellies like Pop’s that hung over the elastic in their shorts. Leon’s legs were ashy and the size of light poles, and his shorts hung just past his knees. He ran out onto the court and joined his middle-aged buddies as they started running around and doing fancy moves like the Harlem Globetrotters.

One of them yelled my way, “Hey, young blood, come on out here and get this whipping, boy.”

He obviously didn’t know that I was Rufus Carter’s boy, the kid who’d played in every league there was since the time he was five years old. The one who could run rings around the best of them on a basketball court. The starting forward for his school’s basketball team. My right-hand layup was the prettiest in the entire Atlanta metro area, and they didn’t even know it. I doubted that any of these old guys could whip me, but it would be fun watching them try. I jogged out onto the court, and someone immediately tossed me the ball.

“Take it out, boy,” the man said, and I did as I was told.

I took the ball out and threw it to him. He dribbled down court, his belly bouncing with every movement. He and the other older men started passing it around to each other, tossing the ball behind their backs and dribbling between their legs. When it finally reached the last person, he tossed it into the basket with one hand, the ball rolling off his fingertips. To my surprise, these old guys were good, each displaying their own fancy jump shot. Even Leon could handle the ball like a pro, and I wondered if he had played on the team when he was in high school or college. I was worn-out by the time the game was over.

The car reeked with perspiration and funk as Leon and I headed home in his Lincoln Navigator.

“So did you have a good time, Marcus?” he asked.

I couldn’t lie. I did have a good time. I had to admit, I had misjudged the old men on the court. I had misjudged Leon. I was so busy trying to find things that might be wrong with him that I forgot to find something right. I wasn’t sure if he would make a good husband for my mother, but one thing I knew—he could shoot some hoops.

Marcus

I
splashed into the water feetfirst and then came back up for a breather. Michelle jumped in behind me. Andre turned a flip into the pool and landed just a few feet away from me. The girl from the other day—the one wearing the yellow bikini—tossed a beach ball into the water and then dove in after it. She ended up just inches from my legs.

“Hi. Wanna play catch?” she asked.

“I do!” Andre answered, even though she wasn’t talking to him.

Her eyes were focused on me.

“I’m Tiffany,” she said, and then tossed me the ball.

“I’m Andre.” He swam over and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Andre,” Tiffany said, and then looked at me. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Marcus.” I laughed at Andre. I would have to teach that boy how to keep his cool points, because he was losing them so fast, he was almost out of them. “And this is Michelle.”

“Nice to meet you, Tiffany. You’re new around here,” Michelle said.

“I just moved here from San Diego. My dad’s job transferred us, and so here I am. We live in Building C.”

“I live in that building right there,” Michelle said, and pointed at our building.

“I don’t live in this subdivision,” Andre said. “I live a few blocks away. I just come over here to swim in the pool.”

“That’s nice,” Tiffany said. “So, Marcus, you live here?”

“Yes, I just moved here from Atlanta,” I said. “I live in the same building as Michelle.”

“So you’re staying, Marcus?” Michelle asked, a grin on her face.

“Yeah, I think I might.”

“You didn’t tell me.” Michelle splashed water in my face.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to.” I splashed water in her face.

Before I knew it, we were all splashing water at each other, having ourselves a nice little water fight. I laughed harder than I had in a long time after I dunked Michelle’s head underwater. She threw water at me in retaliation. Tiffany jumped on my back and tried to dunk me, but she didn’t have enough strength. Instead, I put her in a choke hold and dunked her. When she came back up, she splashed me and I ducked. Instead of hitting me, the water splashed across Andre’s face, and he grabbed Tiffany’s legs and pulled her under. We were all laughing and having fun. I barely heard the screech of the whistle and almost didn’t see Rena standing at the edge of the pool with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.

“No horseplay in the pool,” she said. “Either cut it out or I’ll have to ask you all to get out.”

Everyone stared quietly at her. After she walked away, we all busted out laughing. I grabbed the beach ball and tossed it at Tiffany. She caught it and then tossed it to Andre. Andre tossed the red, white and blue ball to Michelle, and we continued like that until we got bored. Horseplay, as Rena put it, was so much more fun.

“Let’s go to my house and watch DVDs,” Tiffany finally said. “Maybe we can even order a pizza.”

“What kind of DVDs you got?” I asked.

“I have everything you can think of. All of Tyler Perry’s movies, including a bootleg copy of
Why Did I Get Married?
”

“That movie was so good,” Michelle said. “I saw it twice at the theater.”

“It was pretty good,” Andre said, “but what kind of action-packed stuff do you have?”

“I have a few Bruce Willis action flicks. Most of them are old, though.”

“That’s cool,” I said. “I can get down with some pizza.”

“How much does something like that cost…pizza, I mean?” Andre asked, and dug deep into the pockets of his trunks, as if he actually had some cash there. “Because I have like…zero dollars.”

“It’s okay, I have my dad’s credit card,” Tiffany said, and pulled herself out of the water. “Let’s go.”

Tiffany’s house was decorated in cream-colored furniture with black accessories. Expensive art hung on every wall, and the carpet was as white as snow.

“Take your shoes off and leave them in the foyer,” she said. “I’ll get the movies.”

She disappeared into one of the back bedrooms while Andre, Michelle and I took a seat on the living room floor, a towel underneath our bottoms. We were all still soaking wet from the pool and didn’t want to soil the furniture. Tiffany handed me a stack of movies and then started punching in numbers on the cordless phone. She ordered two pizzas and a bottle of Pepsi.

I started flipping through the stack of movies and passing them on to Andre.

“Let’s watch this.” Michelle held an old movie,
Friday,
in the air.

“Yeah, let’s watch that,” Andre said. “Even though I’ve seen it a million times, it just gets better and better.”

Tiffany slipped the movie into the DVD player, and we all laughed our hearts out until the pizza man finally tapped on the door. I grabbed two slices of pepperoni and slapped them onto my plate. I filled my glass with Pepsi, even though I was a diehard Coke man. Andre had finished three slices of cheese pizza before I even had a chance to bite into my first one. Tiffany and Michelle each started off with one slice, and before long, Andre and I had finished off the pepperoni.

Several hours later, the four of us were old friends, laughing at movies that we’d all seen a million times each. We’d finished watching
Friday
and
Next Friday
by early afternoon.

“Anybody up for
Friday After Next
?” Tiffany asked after the credits from the previous movie had rolled up the screen.

“I gotta get home,” Michelle said, and stood. She slipped her flip-flops back onto her feet. “I gotta clean up the house before my mom gets there.”

“I better get going, too.” I stood. “Andre, you coming?”

“Nah, man, I’m gonna stay here and check out
Friday After Next,
” he said.

Tiffany didn’t seem to mind that Andre was the only one staying, and I couldn’t help laughing inside as I slipped my flip-flops on. I followed Michelle down the wooden steps and across the parking lot. As we passed the pool area, I noticed that it was still crowded. Lots of girls in bathing suits bouncing around in the water. Rena was no longer on her throne; in her place was a redheaded white guy with freckles all over his face.

When I stepped into the breezeway of our condo unit, I was surprised at what I saw. Rena was sitting on the stairs, her hands clasped beneath her chin. Michelle and I both stopped in our tracks at the sight of her.

“Hey, Marcus,” Rena said.

“Rena, what’s up? What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for you.”

I didn’t know what to say. Both Rena and Michelle stared at me, waiting for my response. I didn’t have one. I didn’t know what was going on in this girl’s head.

“Hey, I’ll catch you later, Michelle,” I said, trying to dismiss her.

Michelle hesitated for a moment, as if she was waiting to hear the conversation between Rena and me. I gave her a look that said “You can go now.” She sucked her teeth, rolled her eyes at Rena and then tramped on up the stairs.

“You want to walk over to McDonald’s later for ice cream, Marcus?” Michelle hollered back down the stairs.

“Yeah, that’s cool. Just come and get me when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be done cleaning up in about an hour,” she said, and then unlocked the door of her unit.

“What’s up with you and Nerdy Girl?” Rena asked.

“She’s my friend,” I said. “What’s up with you?”

“I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon, Marcus,” she said. “Did you enjoy spending the entire afternoon with little Miss Yellow Bikini?”

She was jealous. That explained why she was camped out at the bottom of my stairs. I laughed, stepped over her and went up the stairs. She sat there and watched me as I stuck my key in the door.

“You coming?”

She stood and walked slowly up the stairs and into my house. Just as I was shutting the door, Michelle stuck her head out of her door, shook it from side to side with her lips pursed. “McDonald’s…ice cream…in an hour.” She sighed and then slammed her door. I shut my door and locked it behind me. Rena stood in the middle of the foyer, waiting for me to tell her where to go.

“You wanna watch some TV?” I asked.

“Can I have something to drink, Marcus?”

“Yeah, okay. You want Cherry Coke or bottled water?”

“I’ll take some Cherry Coke.”

I pulled the two-liter bottle out of the refrigerator, grabbed two cups from the cabinet. I poured a cup of Cherry Coke for Rena and passed it to her. She grabbed it and started looking around the house, checking things out.

“Your mother is a good decorator, Marcus. The house is very pretty.”

She walked into the hallway and observed the photos on the wall. There were several of me—one of them was my second-grade photo and my two front teeth were missing. Another was my sixth-grade photo and I was sporting a lopsided Afro. Rena talked about how cute I was in the second-grade photo and then turned to me.

“What was up with your hair in this picture, Marcus?” she asked, pointing to my sixth-grade photo with the nappy Afro.

“What you mean? I was cute then, too.”

“If you say so.” Rena started laughing and I had to laugh, too.

She made her way all the way down the hall and took a peek into my mother’s bedroom.

“My mom’s room,” I said.

“Where’s your room?” she asked.

I nodded toward the room across the hall. She peeked into the bedroom and then went inside, plopped down on my bed.

“You comfy?” I asked as she made herself at home.

“Yes, I am, Marcus Carter.” She leaned back on my bed. “What’s your middle name?”

“Frederick Henry.”

“Is it Frederick or Henry?” Rena giggled.

“It’s both…Frederick and Henry.” I laughed. “My name is Marcus Frederick Henry Carter. Marcus, named after Marcus Garvey. Frederick, named after Frederick Douglass, who fought to end slavery. And Henry was my great-grandfather’s name on my father’s side of the family. Anything else?”

“Nope, nothing else.” She smiled.

I plopped down on the bed beside her. I brushed her hair out of her face and caressed her cheek.

“So you were jealous of Tiffany, huh?”

“What? No, I wasn’t jealous,” she said.

“What do you call it, then? I come home and see you posted up on my steps. What was that about?”

“Okay, maybe I was just a little jealous,” she said. “I like you, Marcus.”

“I like you, too,” I told her, “but what happened the other night at the beach? Why you start tripping like that after we kissed?”

“I guess I didn’t know I was so attracted to you…until that moment, Marcus. It scared me a little bit.”

“You don’t have to be scared with me, Rena. I won’t hurt you.”

She was beautiful, and my heart started to pound as she ran her hand across my waves. Pretty soon, her lips were against mine again, just like they were when we were at the beach. I wanted to pull away, didn’t want to feel uncomfortable again. It had been a long, quiet drive from the beach that night, and I still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong. I wanted to pull her arms from around my neck, but they seemed to belong there as her tongue made circles inside my mouth. I gently laid her back onto the bed and was on top of her in an instant, both of us breathing heavily.

I pulled her lifeguard T-shirt over her head, and she didn’t fight it. In fact, she helped me take it off, and soon she was lying there in her bikini top, chill bumps up and down her arm. I unzipped her khaki shorts and pushed my hand down into them. I helped her out of them as they dropped to the floor. I hopped up and shut the blinds. As I pulled my wallet from my top drawer in search of a condom, I took a glance at the beautiful girl stretched out across my bed wearing nothing more than a sexy bikini. I was in the zone. My hormones were out of control as I continued to search for the one condom that I kept in my wallet at all times in case of emergencies like this one.

“Big Things Poppin’,” the ring tone on my cell phone, interrupted my flow. It was a ring tone that Indigo had insisted on, since she was in love with T.I. At one time, I thought I was going to have to hunt him down and mess him up because she talked about him so much. He was her favorite artist. Out of habit, I grabbed my cell phone out of the pocket of my jeans and looked at the screen.

Speak of the devil,
I thought as I stared at Indigo’s name on the screen. Why was she calling? And why now? Was she psychic or something? Before I could think it through, I hit the green button to answer the call.

“Hello,” I said, but nobody responded. “Hello…anybody there?”

She was gone, and so was my mood. I glanced over at Rena, who was patiently waiting for my return.

“Marcus?” My mother was in the house, and my heart started to beat at an uneven pace. “Marcus, are you home, baby?”

“Is that your mother?” Rena asked, and immediately started putting her shorts and T-shirt back on.