When All Hell Breaks Loose (14 page)

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you’ve worn that magazine out.”

“She’s beautiful, man,” Eric says. “The perfect black woman. I’d be her slave anytime, no pun intended.” He laughs. “So, what’s up?”

“I was just coming up to see what you guys were doing. It’s quiet downstairs. All of my groups are working on projects and I just finished setting up presentations with two more prospect companies.”

“That Dillinger account put us all over. I went looking at some Land Cruisers yesterday. I was checking out the FJ80 fully loaded with dual battery kits, side steps, and a Pioneer sound system.”

“You thinking about buying one?”

“I don’t know. I’m not ready to pay that kind of car note, but my sister and her husband have one and it’s nice as shit.” Eric looks around, making sure none of the other accountants heard him cuss. “They even have New Zealand sheepskin seat covers.”

“I feel you. I may get a utility vehicle after Adrian and I get married.”

“Yeah, because when you start having crumb snatchers you’ll need the extra space. Your Accord may not take the punishment a child gives a car.”

“You ain’t lying, man. Adrian would probably shit in her britches if one of our kids wasted a Happy Meal in her leather car seats.”

I look over and Tim is hanging up the phone. He sees me and smiles. I walk over to his desk.

“Tim, what’s happening?”

“You the man, you tell me.”

“I was just coming up to hang around for a bit.”

“How are the wedding preps coming along?”

“Cool. As a matter of fact, by the time March rolls around, we won’t have to do nothing but show up dressed and ready to get married.”

“What about your wedding night? You ready for that?”

“What do you mean?”

Eric leans back in his chair. He’s smiling. “Greg, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about the wedding night.” He runs his hand over his cut, causing some of the blond hairs to move out of place.

“Yeah man, you got to set it out right for your girl,” Tim adds.

“What are y’all talking about?” I feel incomplete as two of my best friends toy with me.

“You know—rose petals in the bed, giving her a foot massage, making her beg,” Eric says.

“Adrian gets all that now. As a matter of fact, Adrian gets enough lovin’ from me,” I brag.

“Oh—well then, you’re going to have to set the real shit out for her,” Tim whispers. He has a crazy expression on his face. “Man, you just might have to visit the dark land.”

I revert to stupid again, not knowing what they’re talking about. Eric starts laughing so hard his face turns crimson. “I’ve only been there three times. Remember that chick Peaches I dated?”

Tim shakes his head. “That dark land is some serious shit, Eric. I can’t believe you’ve gone there that many times.”

“Well, you know I like adventure, and Peaches spelled adventure from the time I met her.”

“Eric, I can’t believe you dated a sister named Peaches.” I laugh. “Even the hardest of brothers know to stay away from black women named Peaches.”

“For real!” Tim scoffs. “That’s like asking for chitlins, ham hocks, and collard greens on the same plate at a Juneteenth family reunion!” He snickers at his own joke.

“Well, her real name was Dana, but her girlfriends called her Peaches. Anyway, I went to the dark land on her and she called me for months after that. I couldn’t get rid of her.”

I become curious again about this sacred talk of the so-called dark land. “Were you two serious?” I ask, still ignorant about the unknown place.

“Yeah, but she had some hangups about me being white. Most of them do. They want to be with me, but are too afraid to take me home to meet the relatives.”

“Well, Eric, what do you expect after four hundred years of slavery?” Tim asks.

“Tim, don’t start that shit with me, man. I ain’t never cracked a whip on nobody’s back and I have never acted any different toward you guys.”

“Listen at that. ‘You guys.’ ” Tim laughs, imitating Eric’s deep voice.

I interrupt to keep Tim and Eric from getting into a heated debate about race and get them back on the subject at hand. “Anyway, what does slavery have to do with the dark land?”

“Man, the dark land is the freak move you pull on a woman you really dig,” Eric says. “It’s where you explore the most intimate part of a woman’s body to achieve maximum pleasure for that special woman.”

“Yeah, like she’s the only woman in the world deserving of the critical steps a man takes in the bedroom,” Tim adds. “It’s the freak move of all freak moves.”

“Between the sheets,” Eric adds. “If you do this, Adrian will have Greg on the brain and she will be at your beck and call.”

“She might get your name tattooed on her cookie.” Tim laughs hard under his breath.

“Well, what the hell is it? You two sound like you’ve discovered the Dead Sea Scrolls or the lost island of Atlantis.”

“Greg, visiting the dark land is basically licking the crack of a
woman’s ass in the heat of the moment,” Tim whispers. He begins to giggle like a Boy Scout looking through his first issue of
Playboy
. “Right before she reaches her climax, you take your tongue and lick her ass. Make it wet.”

My stomach flutters at the thought and I groan out loud. “You muhfuckas is crazy!”

Eric and Tim are staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I ain’t licking the crack of no woman’s ass.” I try to keep my voice low. “That is foul. Straight foul!” I continue to laugh, knowing that these two have actually done it.

“Greg, you got to be down on your wedding night with Adrian,” Eric says. “You love her, don’t you?”

“Look, I don’t give a damn if you pay me a million dollars, I ain’t licking the crack of her ass.” I point at them accusingly. “You two are out of control. Next time you come to my house, bring your own glasses, ’cause you can’t drink out of mine anymore.”

Eric leans back in his chair and continues looking at Tyra Banks. “Suit yourself, man.”

“I can’t believe you would even consider putting your tongue there.”

Tim shakes his head. “Hey, sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.” He pats his chest.

“Well, Greg, if you ever decide to go to the dark land, let us know. We’re here for you,” Eric says.

I laugh nervously. “With friends like y’all, I don’t need crack cocaine.” I head back to my office. Tim and Eric’s words of advice are lingering in my head. I picture myself going down on Adrian, but not to her butt. I shake my head again in denial of the thought, but can’t help smiling at Tim and Eric.

I finish the rest of my workday, trying to figure out what man in his right mind started that freak move and why did he have to tell the next man? I would do anything to please Adrian, but sometimes you have to set limits. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a square. A continuous L7. I’ll think about it some more. I mean, if Tim has done it, then it can’t be that bad. I hate to say it, but I’d expect some old crazy shit like that coming from Eric Giles’s mouth. He’s my
friend and all, but we all know that white folks are the masters of freaky-deaky.

When I get home, all I want to do is lie down and take a nap. Before I do anything, I need to call my sister to tell her Louise will be in town soon. This time when I call, a male voice answers. “To God be the glory.”

“Is this 555-7567?” I ask.

“Yes it is,” the thick male voice answers. “Can I be of some service to you?”

“No,” I said with direct irritation in my tone. “Is Nina Alston available?”

“Oh yes. Sister Alston is here. Please hold on, brother.”

What in the world is going on?
I think.
And who in the hell is he calling “brother”?

“Hello?” Shreese’s voice takes some of the edge off my anger.

“Shreese, who was that answering your phone?”

“Oh, Gregory, this is you. I didn’t know who this was demanding information without saying hi or how are you or nothing. That was Pastor Dixon that answered my phone.”

“What is he doing over there?”

“We’re studying some scriptures together. We’re in the glorious book of Proverbs. The practice-what-you-preach book of the great Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth. You need to be over here.”

I ignore the last remark. “Are you alone together?”

“Yes.”

“Shreese, get that man out of your apartment. Have you lost your mind?”

Shreese sits quiet for a moment. “Gregory, I will talk to you later. Now is not the time for this kind of discussion.” She’s angry and I can tell she’s trying to conceal it.

I lower my voice quickly to try to calm myself and make her feel at ease. “Shreese, I was calling to tell you that Louise is coming to Dallas at the end of the month.” I don’t like to upset my sister, so I hope mentioning our mother will change her mood.

“How do you know?” she asks with challenge in her voice. She has
every right to not believe me. It’s no secret that I call Louise on a less-than-regular basis.

“I called her and told her I was getting married, so she’s coming up to stay until the wedding.”

“The Lord is good all the time!” she yells.

In the background I can hear Reverend Dixon respond, “And all the time the Lord is good! Yes He is!”

“Shreese, do me a favor,” I say with a serious tone in my voice.

“What, Greg?”

“Get that man out of your apartment for me.”

“Gregory, I am a grown woman, a God-fearing woman, and I don’t think who I have in my apartment is any of your business. All I’m trying to do is be faithful to the works of the Lord and Savior. Why are you so against that?”

“Shreese, I’m not against you trying to be a better Christian, I just think—”

“Well, Gregory, I don’t care what you think.”

Click!

I can’t believe my sister hung up on me! Shreese has never in a million years hung up in my face. Fuck it, I ain’t calling her back. If she wants to hang out with that pimp preacher then so be it! She just better hope God can keep her safe from him, because I’m not going to. I have too many other things to worry about. Most important, my mother’s upcoming visit. She’s not even here yet, and already shit is starting to fall apart.

B
efore I know it, the end of September has arrived. Dad and I are at the airport waiting for flight 1702 from France to come in.

I feel distant from what’s about to happen. I feel like a friend of the family just present to support my father, who is obviously glad to be here. He’s dressed up in some khaki slacks, a green shirt with brown suspenders, and some chestnut-brown casual shoes. At his request, we went to the mall and searched hours for his outfit. Pops went and got a fresh haircut and shave, too. He actually looks ten years younger. He talked all the way to the airport about anything and everything just to show he wasn’t nervous, but I could tell he was. I’m a little nervous too, but I refuse to let it get me excited. I know he’s still in love with her, so he has good reason to be nervous. Hopefully, he has thought about this visit and won’t get his hopes up. I don’t think I can stand to see him vegetate any more than he already has from her leaving the first time.

The terminal is packed for a Thursday and I’m surprised at how
many people I see. It’s funny because when I was little, airports used to scare me. The planes seemed like steel bird-monsters as they came and went. Then, to be walking among all those strange people from strange places really freaked me out. Now, they just appear as faces without names. No threat at all. One of the airline workers comes and unlocks the terminal door.

The 747 pulls up to the gate and turns facing the window we’re looking out of. Pops stands up and walks around to the entrance. I sit waiting for the passengers to begin coming from the walkway between the terminal and the plane. After several minutes, the airline worker finally opens the door and passengers begin flooding out to greet their loved ones.

I join Pops at the entrance. He’s smiling, and I can tell that his hopes are up by the way he stands near the gate peeping down the corridor looking for her. When he sees her, he quickly steps back, runs his hand over his new shirt, and waits.

I immediately notice Louise when she steps off the walkway and into the terminal. Her smile reveals the glow she passed to Shreese. Same petite face. Same pecan skin tone. She’s wearing a peach silk pants suit with a white silk shirt underneath. She’s beautiful. Her skin is smooth and her eyes are beaming. She looks untouched by time except that she no longer sports long hair. It’s short to her head, but it’s perfect on her face. She has picked up some weight but she still looks like she could go an extra mile or two. Her face lights up more when she sees me and Pops standing at the doorway.

“Adolphus and Gregory! Oh, it’s so good to see my family!” She walks up and hugs us both. Pops hugs her back, but I just stand there like a bump on a log, unwilling to place my arms around her. I don’t feel connected to this woman who is holding on to us as if this one hug will make us know each other again. She smells like gardenias. It’s a smell that I’ve been familiar with all my life because it’s the perfume she wears. I can’t believe she still wears the same scent. Her soft skin against my face reminds me of nights when I was small and I sat in her lap as we sang songs together, so I pull away lightly to keep from insulting her and to maintain my hard feelings about her return. The smell still lingers against my skin, and my mind
flows to the nights when we would sing and the smell of gardenias cascaded across the room comforting me as a child. She taught me the words to “Embraceable You,” and it became our song. We would sing it every night before I went to bed. Every single night until she left. When Nina came along, our duet became a trio. I miss the smell of gardenias, but as I stand back and look at Louise, I hate the fact that she is the one who makes me miss that smell. Pops grabs her bags and she walks between us, holding his arm and my hand.

“So, how much has Dallas changed since my last visit?” she asks. “It already feels different and I bet it has changed a lot.” She looks around us, but I can tell she’s not really interested in the surroundings. For just a second, I can see that she’s nervous too, but I can also see she’s sincerely happy to be with us. The spring in her steps forces me and Pops to keep up with her.