Zora and Nicky: A Novel in Black and White (32 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NICKY

I get home and I feel like I’ve got freakin’ posttraumatic stress syndrome or
something. All I can think about is Zora, and I don’t know what to do about
that. I’ve got exactly four friends. Three of them go to Bible study with me,
not including Zora. The other is Pete.

I do
not
want to talk to Pete. I do
not
want to talk to anybody of the
female persuasion from the Bible study, except for Zora, and I can’t decide
whether I’m mad at her, depressed, or both. I just drained Richard, I’m sure,
so I’m on my own.

I don’t have much furniture. Just a cheap futon I got for a hundred bucks
at the Meijer in Ypsilanti, and a floor lamp and end table. In the corner is a
bookshelf, but I haven’t put many books on it. I feel guilty about reading the
books I want to read, and even more guilty about not reading the books Dad
gave me to prepare me for seminary.

I sit on the black futon. It matches my mood. Pull out my cell phone.
I’m going to have to torment Richard again, because God knows as much as I
want to have a little talk with Jesus, I need to hear a human voice.

I punch the numbers. He answers on the first ring.

“How are you, son?” he says.

“I suck, Richard.”

He chuckles. “You’re all right, Nicky.”

“How do you know when you’re falling in love?”

“I think one of the first signs is that you start asking people that question.”

“She came to our Bible study four days ago. Five days ago I didn’t know
a Zora Nella Hampton Johnson existed in this world.”

“Sure you did, Nicky.”

“I did?”

“Sure. Maybe you didn’t know it was her, but you knew there was
somebody out there who’d want to see you for who you really are. Who’d
want to know you. Somebody you’d want to know as deeply and intimately
as you can know another person.”

“That’s exactly how I feel, Richard. She’s going to marry Simba.”

“You should stop saying things like that, Nicky. I don’t think they’re
helping you.”

“I’m not going to get any help here, Richard. God made my dream
woman black. He puts me in the most racist family imaginable and makes
me fall in love with a black woman.”

“You sound very self-pitying. And you’re not even being honest.”

“I am being honest.”

“First of all, there are families far more racist than yours. Second, God
didn’t make you do anything.”

“Are you saying I’m choosing to feel what I feel?”

“I’m not saying that there isn’t a little magic and mystery happening. It’s
springtime. You and Zora are two young, attractive people. Love is in the air.
But the truth is, yes, you are making choices, many of which you didn’t have
to make at all.”

I think about what he says. Can’t even deny the truth of it. “I can’t help
myself, Richard. She captivates me.”

“I know, kid.”

“She’s gonna marry that guy.”

“I hope not. She’d miss out on you. I’d hate that.”

“I don’t understand those people. They took everything from her. He’s
supposed to be her boyfriend, but he didn’t stand up for her. I didn’t see one
thing in her apartment that I didn’t give her. Well, Linda said she and Billie
took her some food and stuff, but that was it. He probably made love to her
on the floor, Richard. He didn’t even spring for a hotel room. How could he
watch her be stripped to nothing, and then keep taking from her?”

“You don’t know what happened, Nicky.”

“Yeah, I do, Rich. He was buttoning his shirt when he came to the
door.”

“Don’t judge her, Nicky.”

“Why not? I’ve been celibate, trying to follow Jesus. Trying not to sin.”

“But you have sinned. You may not have been with a woman, but you’ve
sinned, even sexually, haven’t you, Nicky?”

I don’t say anything, because of course he knows I have. “I’m so sick of
everything. I’m sick of pious lies. Everybody cleaning up real nice, and all of
us full of filth on the inside. I’m full of filth, and you are, and Zora. But we
all say we love God.”

“Nicky, I know you’re upset today. But don’t lose perspective. We all sin.
I’m not crazy about being an alcoholic, losing my wife, making a mess of my
life and reputation. I’d rather be a good guy, but the fact is, I’m a mess, and
the best thing I know about God is that He loves people, even messy ones.
So even when I sin, I have an advocate with the Father. Don’t go all legalistic,
Nicky, just because you’re hurting.”

“I don’t want to be legalistic. I just want to be right with God. I want to
live a good life. Why is that so hard? To live a good life and maybe be myself.
Find somebody that can love me for me—all of who I am. Dude, Rebecca
thought I’d be writing like Max Lucado.
Dude
!”

“Do you want to pray again, Nicky?”

“Just pray for me, Rich. I’ve got a raging headache. I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, son.”

We hang up. I get some ice, even though my eye is swollen underneath
like crazy by now. My dad has never been much for hitting, even when I was
a kid. While my grandfather was a real “spare the rod, spoil the child” kind
of guy, Dad never did seem comfortable with corporal punishment. Maybe I
really am like him in some ways.

Nah.

I don’t give that another thought because my mind goes right back to
Zora and those sad-looking doe eyes. She doesn’t even have a phone to call
me. And I wonder if she will. I wonder if she’ll give me a chance to plead with
her not to marry the Lion King.

How can he be good for her? If she were mine I’d be her father’s nemesis
right now. Nothing would keep me from taking care of her. As it is, I’ve spent
almost all of the cash I have available to buy her things I thought she both
needed
and
wanted.

I should have done more. If I had, maybe she wouldn’t have walked to my
church, and none of this would have happened.

Again, I think about her sad eyes. I want to go to her, but she’s probably
with him.

You’re crazy, Nicky. She’s somebody else’s woman. You knew that all
along.

But it doesn’t change how I feel.

I hear a knock at my door. Nobody comes to see me. It’s after ten on a
Sunday night now. I don’t know who could be at my door.

I get up from the futon to answer it. The knocker is insistent. “Who is
it?” I yell to the door.

“Yo, it’s Pete.”

I don’t bother to mask my sarcasm from the God who knows all things,
except apparently how much I
don’t
want to see Pete. “How nice.”

I open the door. God must be really happy with me. Pete’s standing there
with my dad.

I let them in.

Pete shakes his head when he sees my face. “Yo, man, what are you doing?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking
who
am I doing, Pete? Because I’m thinking
that’s what this little visit with my dad in tow is about.”

I close the door, and they go right over to the futon and sit down. Now
I wish I had furniture. I drag a chair out of the two feet of space that passes
for my dining room. Slam it in front of the futon and straddle it for bad-boy
effect.

Why do this to me, God? Why tonight?

Pete tries for peacemaker.

“Yo, Nick. Your dad is upset.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to act all ticked off.”

“Then I suggest you go back to Ypsi, ’cause I’m ticked off.”

My father clears his voice. “Nicholas, I’m not happy at how things went
today either. I called Pete because I’m frankly bewildered by your behavior.”

“
My
behavior?”

“You attacked your grandfather.”

“I collared him. Then I got attacked.”

He holds his hands rigid on his lap. “I’ve never seen you in such a state.
I had no idea what you’d do.”

“Well, it looks like you figured out how to get the situation under control
pretty fast.”

“I’m not pleased that I hit you, son.”

For a moment I’m confused. The only person who’s called me son in years
has been Richard. “What?”

“I said, I’m not pleased that I hit you.”

He didn’t repeat the son part. Figures. “Well, it’s done. What do you want
now, Dad?”

“I want to talk to you about that woman.”

“Her name is Zora. Don’t call her that woman like she’s a White House
intern that I did naughty things with.”

At this he looks at Pete who takes over.

“Yo, Nick, man.”

“Pete,” I say, “didn’t I tell you not to say yo to me again?”

“Look, I know she’s hot.”

“Pete—”

“Your dad and I talked about this.”

“You really don’t want to go there, Pete.”

He puts his hand up with a “stop” gesture. “Yo, just listen, Nick. Okay?
I’m just keepin’ it real.”

“Why don’t you keep it
white
, which is what you are, Pete.”

“It’s what you are too, Nicky. Look, I’ve seen Zora. I totally feel you. She’s
hot, man, but you don’t bring her
home
.”

“First of all, I didn’t invite her to dinner. Dad did.”

My dad steps back in. “I realize now that was a mistake. I didn’t recognize
you were having relations with her. I should have, based on the things she
said.”

I run my hand through my hair. I can’t believe him. “I’m not having
relations
with anybody. She was nervous. Everything came out wrong, but nothing is
going on between Zora and me, meaning, we are not having
relations
.”