Twisted (16 page)

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Authors: Tracy Brown

BOOK: Twisted
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Ishmael wanted to defend himself but thought better of it. Instead, he headed out the door and shut the door on a lifelong friendship as he made his exit.
 
 
“Jackie, can you wash Sabrina's hair for me, please? I need to take the next customer. It's getting too crowded in here.”
“No problem.” Jackie escorted the client to the sink while Nina called the next lady to her chair. Nappy Nina's was packed for a Thursday afternoon. Nine women sat patiently waiting their turns as Nina, Jackie, and Alesia (the salon's braider) worked busily through the steady stream of clients. KISS FM was playing an old Stephanie Mills joint, and several of the patrons and stylists sang along.
Nina took one look at a client's weave and shook her head. “Uh-uh!” she said emphatically. “You gotta go across the street to the Dominicans and let
them
wash your hair.” Nina continued to shake her head as she looked at all the woman's nappy new growth while cutting the weave tracks out of her hair. There was no way Nina was going to dig her well-manicured hands into this woman's matted mane. Nina cut out the last track and repeated herself, shaking her head. “Mmmmm. Go across the street, let them wash you, and come back.” The client looked slightly offended, but she grabbed her bag and strolled right across the packed Brooklyn street, looking like Buckwheat's mama.
“No shame!” another client called out. Everyone started laughing.
Nina began applying a relaxer to Ms. Turner's hair, while noticing Ishmael pulling up outside in his truck. She frowned and kept working, wondering what the fuck he wanted.
As he entered the shop, she saw a heated expression on his face. When he approached her, she avoided his gaze and said, “I can't talk right now, Ishmael. You see how packed it is in here.”
Ishmael ignored her statement and said, “I need to talk to you outside for a minute.”
Nina frowned slightly. She motioned to Ms. Turner and shrugged. The woman had Creme of Nature slathered throughout her head. She wasn't going anywhere. “I can't leave a perm on her, Ishmael. Let me rinse it out and I'll—”
“It can't wait, Nina.” Ishmael was dead serious. He hadn't stopped scowling at her since he got there.
“Ish, I can't leave a relaxer in her hair. There's lye in it. It'll burn her hair out. What's the matter with you?”
He stared at her blankly.
“What?” she demanded.
“Get your shit out of my house,” he said matter-of-factly. “I'll give you one week and then I want you and all your shit gone! You betrayed me, you little bitch! I know what you told Rah-lo and I swear I want to fuck you up right now. So before I hurt you, get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.” He stood with his chest heaving and his hands balled into fists in his pockets. The customers in the shop ceased all conversation and began to pay close attention to Ishmael and Nina's conversation.
“Aww shit,” one client said under her breath.
Ms. Turner was all ears. She was glad to have a front-row seat—Nina's chair—for the drama unfolding before her.
Nina was astounded. “Get out of
your
house?” She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Your fucking house? I don't think so. My name is on the lease and—”
“Your name ain't on shit,” he said. “Don't make this hard on yourself, Nina. If you don't have your shit the fuck out of there in one week, I'll throw all your shit out. Word. Don't test me.” He turned to leave, but Nina was hot on his trail.
“Ishmael, it's like that now? Why? 'Cuz I went through your fucking phone?” she demanded.
“What the hell did you tell Rah-lo for?” Ishmael barked, turning to face Nina. He knew that he had beef now.
Nina stood speechless. Ishmael looked at her in disgust. “Get the fuck outta my face.” He turned to leave and Nina grabbed his arm.
“Wait a minute!” she cried out desperately.
“Nina, my scalp is tingling!” Ms. Turner called out to her.
Nina ignored Ms. Turner. “Ishmael, how the hell was I supposed to feel, knowing that you been creeping on me? Huh? What about Robin? That shit don't count? I was mad. You gotta take it this far?”
Ishmael shook his head as he looked at her. “You can't be that dumb. Really. You knew when you told him that bullshit that I would never fuck with you after that. Don't act surprised now. Just stay away from me.”
“I'm not going nowhere!” Nina stepped back and put her hands on her hips.
Ishmael chuckled right to her face. “You're a crazy bitch!”
Nina hauled off and slapped Ishmael so hard that clients ran for cover, assuming that Ishmael was going to beat the hell out of her in response. He pushed her hard enough to
make her stumble backward slightly. She charged at him again, and he pushed her back again, this time causing her to stumble backward into one of the chairs. He didn't want to hurt her, but if she slapped him like that again he knew he might do just that.
Frustrated, Nina began to cry. “Fuck you, Ishmael!” She was embarrassed in front of her clients and her employees and she was losing the man she had wanted to spend her life with. Nina struggled to her feet.
“Nina!” Ms. Turner was not playing anymore. “My fuckin' scalp is on fire. I need to rinse this shit out of my hair now!”
Other clients began to grumble about the scene playing out before them. “This shit is so unprofessional!” one client exclaimed. “If that was me and my hair fell out, I would kick somebody's
ass
up in here!”
Ishmael rubbed his face, which was still burning from the impact of Nina's hellified slap. He wanted to slap her back to show her how that shit felt, but instead he shook his head at her in disgust, turned around, and walked out.
Nina was left standing there with all eyes on her. Jackie mercifully stepped in and ushered Ms. Turner to the sink to rinse out her relaxer. Nina watched Ishmael drive away and she walked out of the shop and stood there, thinking about what had just happened. Behind her she could hear the whole shop buzzing about the scene Ishmael had caused.
“That muthafucka is
fine
! How did she fuck that up?”
“I hate guys like that. He cheated on her and then he turns it around to make it seem like it's all her fault. He did that shit just to embarrass her. He knew what he was doing. Coming in here to tell her to get out of
his
house. He wanted to make her look like a fool.”
“She should learn to keep her mouth shut. When I used to get my hair done at Dime Piece, she was always in there telling Charly that she talks too much. Looks like she talks too much, too.”
“You know what they say about people in glass houses,” another lady observed.
“Did y'all see how hard she slapped him, though?”
“Yeah, but then he pushed her like he wanted to choke the shit out of her instead.”
“She's lucky it was him. 'Cause if it had been my man, he would've knocked her straight out!”
“That shit was hilarious. He kept pushing her and she was so mad!”
“I got it on my camera phone!” one girl exclaimed. Everyone in the shop crowded around her to see the instant replay.
Nina had never been so embarrassed in her life. She walked off toward her car, climbed inside, and sped off toward home.
 
 
Charly's shop was so packed that there were no more chairs available for the clients to sit in. Every dryer, sink, and
stylist's chair was occupied. The seats set up around the perimeter of the salon for customers to sit in while they waited were all taken. There were women lined up against the walls and some sitting outside of the salon, waiting their turns.
Charly had never seen this before. Especially not on a Thursday! She walked over to the sink where Robin and Lauren were washing hair and shook her head. “I wonder where all these people came from. I need y'all to speed it up a little so no one gets impatient and leaves before we get a chance to get that money.”
Lauren nodded. “The girl in the red shirt said that there was a fight at Nina's salon and they closed early. So her and her friend came here to get their hair done.”
Both Robin's and Charly's ears perked up. “A fight?” Charly asked. “Who was fighting in there today?”
Robin kept washing her client's hair but was focused on the dirt Lauren was dishing. Lauren shrugged her shoulders. “I don't know. I'll ask her when I'm finished with this shampoo.”
Charly had no patience. She rolled up her sleeves and stepped in. “I'll finish her shampoo. Just go and find out what happened. The suspense is killing me!”
Lauren laughed and stepped away from the sink. She took a towel to dry her hands and headed over to the girl in the red shirt. Robin and Charly were too far away from the conversation to hear what was being said. So they both watched the body language of the client and Lauren's reaction to what
she was telling her. Lauren held her hand over her mouth in shock. The client was animatedly describing the scene in Nina's salon, sitting on the edge of her seat and motioning with her hands as if hitting someone. Robin could hardly stand the wait as Lauren continued to talk to the girl in the red shirt. Finally, Robin saw Lauren making her way back to where the sinks were. When she got there, Charly and Robin were putting conditioner in each of their clients' hair and eagerly waiting to hear the juicy details.
Lauren wasted no time. “She said that Nina's man came in the shop and broke up with her in front of everybody.”
“Well, we know he doesn't mean it, because he told her that the other day and he's still dealing with her.” Charly was unimpressed with the way this gossip was shaping up. Plus she wanted to rub salt in Robin's wounds. Charly suspected that Robin was still feeling Ishmael.
Lauren continued, “This time the shit sounds serious. She said that Nina punched him in the face and he hit her back and knocked her out.”
“What?” Robin was floored. “That doesn't even sound like Ishmael.”
Charly cut a look at Robin and wondered how the hell she could possibly know what Ishmael would or wouldn't do. All Robin had ever been to him was a one-night stand. “So what happened after that?” Charly asked.
“Then he left. But some lady got all her hair burned out with a relaxer that Nina left on during the fight. So all their
clients came here.” Lauren winked at Charly and she smiled. Nina's loss was certainly their gain.
Charly headed back to the front of the salon while Lauren escorted the client to the dryer. As Charly called the next customer, Robin was on her cell phone, calling Ishmael.
 
 
The Second Time Around
I
t was close to noon when Ishmael got a call from Robin. She was whispering so that nosy Charly wouldn't hear her. “What happened at Nina's shop, Ish? A whole bunch of new clients have been coming in here and saying that you and Nina had a fight.”
Ishmael sighed as he leaned his head back against the pillows on the bed in his secret apartment. He figured he'd lay low for a few days to let the drama die down with Rah-lo. “We did have a fight. She told Rah-lo that I had a conversation with Celeste. Now I got this dude looking at me like I can't be trusted or like I double-crossed him or some shit.”
Robin listened to Ishmael admit to fighting with Nina
and was surprised at him. “You knocked her out, Ishmael? I heard she punched you in your face, and that's fucked up. But you didn't have to hit her back like that.”
Ishmael frowned and cursed the ghetto grapevine for the umpteenth time. “I didn't knock nobody out,” he said. “And she didn't punch me in my face, either. We had an argument. She slapped me. Then she kept trying to hit me and I pushed her off me. That was it. Then I left.” He sighed. “You see how people lie?”
Robin was relieved to hear that Ishmael hadn't hit Nina. She would have looked at him much differently if he had. “I thought you said that you were helping Rah-lo try to find Celeste. Why would he be mad at you for talking to her?” she asked.
“Yeah, I was helping him find her and I found her before he did. I sent her a message on MySpace and she sent me her number. Our whole conversation was about five minutes long,” Ishmael said. Another lie, but he didn't want Robin to suspect that he felt more for Celeste than he should.
Robin wasn't sure she believed him, but she shrugged it off. Celeste was miles away. “You sound tired. Where are you now?”
“At my apartment. Why? You want to come over?”
Robin sighed. “No. I have about three more clients to do and then I have to get home to Hezekiah. My sister won't watch him tonight. She's going out.”
Ishmael couldn't help feeling disappointed. “I'm starving right now. I was hoping you could come over here and feed me.” His tone was suggestive and Robin smiled, remembering.
“Let me see if I can make that happen. I'll call you when I leave here.”
Ishmael agreed and Robin hung up and got back to work.
Two hours later, she called Ishmael on his cell phone. When he answered she was parking her car outside of his house. “Are you still up for company?” she asked.
Ishmael had just woken up from a catnap. “Yeah. You coming over?”
“I'm outside. Come open the door.”
Ishmael hung up the phone and trotted downstairs to let her in. He couldn't wait to get her in his bed once again. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Robin standing with Hezekiah beside her. Ishmael's expression changed visibly and Robin noticed.
“I know this wasn't part of the plan,” she said, nodding discreetly toward her son. “But my sister wasn't trying to hear me and I had no choice. You sounded like you needed a friend today, so I came over with food.” She held a casserole dish in her hand. Looking at the disappointed expression on Ishmael's face, she wasn't sure that this had been a good idea after all. “If you want, you can take the food and
I'll come back for my dish tomorrow. I understand if you have other plans.”
Ishmael wasn't thrilled about kids. He rarely dated women who had them and had only made an exception with Robin because she was so sexy. He looked down at young Hezekiah and the little boy peered back at him through wide eyes. He was a cute kid, Ishmael had to admit. And Hezekiah seemed calm enough not to fuck up Ishmael's high. “Nah,” he said. “I don't have any other plans. Come on in.”
Ishmael ushered them inside and up the stairs to his apartment. When they got inside, he heard his cell phone ringing and knew without looking that Nina was calling for the millionth time. He picked up his phone and turned it off. While Ishmael and Hezekiah sat awkwardly beside each other on the couch, Robin went to the kitchen and began heating up the chicken, macaroni and cheese, and cabbage she'd made.
Ishmael looked at the little boy and smiled. Hezekiah smiled back and looked around the room, taking it all in. Silence filled the space as Robin got Ishmael's food together. Hezekiah wondered why they were there. He wondered who Ishmael was and why his mom had gone through so much trouble to make sure that dinner was perfect tonight. Ishmael caught Hezekiah staring and he looked away quickly. His gaze fell on a video game system and he shifted excitedly in his seat.
“Is that Xbox 360?” he asked, his voice revealing the enthusiasm bubbling just below the surface.
Ishmael nodded and smiled. “Wanna play?”
Hezekiah nodded quickly and Ishmael passed him the wireless control. Picking up the second control, he challenged the little boy to a game of Madden. “You don't mind if I beat you, do you?” Ishmael asked jokingly.
Hezekiah laughed. “You can't beat me! I'm nice at this game!” Hezekiah sat Indian-style on the floor and prepared for war. They started the game and chose their teams, both of them talking trash. Robin watched them from the kitchen and smiled. They laughed and yelled at the TV when their plays didn't go as planned. It felt good to her to see Hezekiah finally have the chance to interact with a man other than his grandfather. Ishmael connected with the little boy easily and found himself enjoying the game so much that he didn't pause to eat when Robin brought his plate of hot food to him. Instead he gulped down the delicious meal in between plays, genuinely enjoying the battle with the six-year-old. Hezekiah beat him fair and square and Ishmael demanded a rematch. As they played a second game, Robin washed the dishes and imagined that every day could be like this—her, Hezekiah, and Ishmael, one big happy family.
It was close to eleven o'clock when Ishmael and Hezekiah prepared to play for a third time. “I hate to interrupt this little
male-bonding session, but Hezzy's bedtime passed a long time ago. I need to get him home.”
“Aww w, Mommy! I was gonna beat him again!” Hezekiah protested.
Ishmael laughed. “I let you beat me once; you can't do it again.”
“Yes, I can! Don't be embarrassed to tell your friends you got beat by a little kid.”
Ishmael liked Hezekiah a lot. “Okay. I see you got a lot of confidence, kid. Tell you what. Next time Mommy brings you over to visit me, we'll play our tiebreaker. Whoever wins is the ultimate Madden champion. Deal?”
Hezekiah liked the sound of that. “Deal!” He put the control down and followed his mother to the door.
Ishmael stood tall over Robin and smiled at her. “Thanks for dinner. It was really good. I don't believe you cooked all that all by yourself. I didn't know you could cook like that.”
Hezekiah chuckled. “She said it had to be perfect for you—”
“Stay out of grown folks' conversations, Hezzy!” Robin chastised him, embarrassed. She looked at Ishmael and said, “I'm glad you liked it. Next time it's your turn to cook.”
Ishmael laughed at that and gave Hezekiah five. “We'll see. See you next time, little man.”
“Okay,” Hezekiah said, wondering why his mother seemed so shy around Ishmael.
Ishmael smiled at her. “I had fun. I'm glad you brought him over.” Ishmael didn't kiss Robin good-bye out of respect for her son. Instead he pulled her into a firm hug and whispered in her ear, “Good night.”
She melted. “Good night,” she said, and then she and her son went home. On the way, Hezzy couldn't stop talking about Ishmael. Hezzy really liked him. Robin did, too. And she spent the whole drive home reminding herself that Ishmael wasn't the kind of man whom it was safe to give your heart to. Trouble was, it was already too late.
 
 
“You dirty, nasty, rotten pussy bitch!”
Robin sat up in bed and held the phone steady, hoping that her ears were deceiving her. “What?” she managed, her voice thick with sleep. It was one o'clock in the morning.
“You wait till I see you, Robin. Just wait. I know where you live, where you work, where your son goes to school,” Nina said. “I will catch you. And when I do I'm gonna kick your filthy ass!”
Robin couldn't believe her ears. “Nina, you can't be serious. I know you're not threatening my son, you stupid bitch!”
“I'm not making threats, Robin. I'm dead serious. You'll see.” Nina hung up the phone and Robin sat in the dark in disbelief. She dialed Ishmael's number and he answered on the fourth ring.
“Yo, Ish, your girl is really bugging out. She just called me and threatened me
and
Hezekiah.”
“What?” Ishmael rubbed his hand across his face in exasperation. “What did she say?”
Robin recounted her conversation with Nina, and Ishmael listened closely. He knew that the shit was out of control now. “I'm sorry, ma. But she ain't really gonna do shit. She's just talking.”
Robin shook her head. “I'm not taking no chances, Ishmael. I can't fuck with you no more. If she comes near me or Hezekiah I will kill that bitch. Seriously. And I can't deal with you anymore. This is too much.”
Ishmael sighed. “Come on, ma—”
“Nah,” she said. “It's over. Deal with your bitch and keep her away from me.” She hung up the phone and Ishmael was left sitting in his apartment alone in silence. He lay back on his bed and looked at the ceiling feeling drained. He wished this was all a bad dream. In one day he had lost his childhood friend and Robin as well. As much as Ishmael hated to admit it, he was beginning to develop strong feelings for Robin—and her son. And now, thanks to Nina, Ishmael's relationship with Robin was over.
His phone ringing snapped him out of his trance. He saw Cito's number and quickly answered. “Whattup?”
Cito sighed. “Ish,” he said in his heavy Spanish accent. “I cannot do business with you anymore, my friend.”
Ishmael frowned. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Rah-lo gave me a call,” Cito said. “He said you told him about our deal and he was very unhappy. Basically, what he told me is that if I keep dealing with you, he will find a new supplier. I can't afford that, Ish. Rah-lo brings me a lot of business—more than you will right now. And I assured him that I would not fuck with you anymore.” Cito spoke very matter-of-factly and Ishmael was livid.
“Come on, Cito! You can't do this shit to me. I've been working with you just as long as Rah-lo has. How you gonna choose his side in this shit?”
Cito wouldn't budge. “You have both been dealing with me. This is true. But now Rah-lo has the bigger clientele, the bigger empire. He told me that you walked away from your partnership with nothing. That you will be building from the ground up. All the soldiers will remain with him. That means he will be doing bigger business with me than you will right now. You can't give them what he's giving them and therefore you won't bring in the money that he does. It's simple arithmetic, my friend. Rah-lo is a bigger player in this game. So I have to do what's best for my business.”
Ishmael couldn't believe his ears. “So now I gotta find someone else to get my shit from. I got money, Cito. I got clientele. You gonna cut me off just like that?”
“I'm afraid so. It's nothing personal. I like you, Ish—”
“Fuck you, Cito!” Ishmael hung up and paced the floor in a rage. Rah-lo was playing hardball.
Ishmael picked up his cell phone and scrolled through
the numbers until he found Celeste's name. He dialed the number.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey,” Ish said. “Change of plans. I think I'm gonna come down there sooner than I thought.”

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