Alibi (14 page)

“Yeah, I guess, Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, Wednesday, you gonna be ready?”

“Mmm hmm,” she said, looking away from him.

“Look, man, I ain’t got time to be tracking you down, Daisy, man. Fuck that, I called you a hundred and one times, man. That
shit ain’t fucking cool, you playin’ games, Daisy.”

“Naw, naw, I’m not. I’ll be ready. I just was running around, Sticks, you just don’t know, times is hard, real hard. You got
money, I don’t. So, it’s easy for you.”

“Look, if you need a couple of dollars, Daisy, just let me know. What do you need?”

Daisy looked at Sticks as if he were from outer space.
Is this nigga serious? He ain’t never been this kind to me, never. I have to haggle this nigga all night long to get five
dollars, now it’s whatever I need. Is he serious?
Daisy figured she would try her luck, see what happened.

“You know what I really need, Sticks?”

“What?” he asked, but thought to himself,
What the fuck do you want bitch, ’cause I think you playing games.

“I need a car.”

“A car,” he responded.
Is she out of her mind? What the fuck I look like?

“Look, you want me to testify for some nigga I don’t even know. You want me to testify. Think about that, that’s not what
you said in the beginning. In the beginning you just wanted me to speak to some private investigator you said you hired. Shit,
had I known that shit six months ago, I would have never said that bullshit to that investigator you had sitting all up in
my kitchen. My momma told me not to do that shit too, but I didn’t listen. Now, you got me all caught up in the middle of
some shit, and I got to go to court and testify in front of a judge. Come on, for someone that I don’t even know. I think
that’s worth more than a car, don’t you?”

Sticks didn’t know what to make of Daisy. First she was missing in action, not taking his calls. Now, she was speaking as
if he owed her something, and technically he knew she had a strong point. He sat quietly looking out of the window, thinking
how to deal with her. He didn’t know if he should just punch her in the face, pummel her, and drag her into the courthouse,
or if he should buy her a car and kiss her ass. He figured that, since court was in a couple of days, it probably would be
better to do the latter and buy her a car and kiss her ass.

“You testify for me and I’ll have a brand-new Jaguar waiting for you outside the courthouse. Whadda you think of that?” Sticks
asked, having it all figured out.

“I think after I testify, you liable not to do nothing for me. I think you need to get my car before I testify. What you think
about that?” she said, tilting her head to the side and puckering up her lips and licking them with her tongue at him, ever
so seductively.

“A car, huh?”

“Yeah, Sticks, come on, please?” she begged as she moved closer to him, stroking his chest. “You know I take care of you,
right? Don’t I always look out for you? So, please, come on,” she said, rubbing on his chest.

“Come here, come here,” said Sticks, as he grabbed the back of her head with his right hand and with his left began unzipping
his pants. He pulled out his dick, thick and fat, not quite rock hard, but definitely ready to seize the moment at hand, adjusted
himself comfortably, and guided her head down.

Daisy obliged him, knowing that he would tip her, he always did, with a hundred-dollar bill. That was one of the problems
she had dealing with Sticks’s personality. Everything had to be done on his terms. If she took cash before sex services then
she turned him into a trick, a john, or a business transaction. That would never happen. Sticks wasn’t paying for no pussy.
Even though she was a stripper, she had to fuck him for free, and that was that. It would kill his ego any other way.

Getting out of the car, she looked at him and asked again. “So, you gonna take care of that for me, before Wednesday?”

“I got you, I got you.”

“Mmm hmm, right,” she responded, knowing better, but it was okay, none of it mattered anyway. She was holding close to fifty
thousand dollars in her bag and didn’t need Sticks or nobody else at that very moment.
You ain’t got to do nothing for me, Mr. Sticks, or whatever your real name is.
No, Daisy already had a plan and her plan was to get out of town, blow court, and take her fifty thousand dollars and start
a new life, and she knew exactly where she was going to go: Murfreesboro, Tennessee, with her aunt Tildie and cousin Kimmie
Sue.

D
aisy had a hundred and one things to do before Wednesday.
I only got one week.
She sat at her kitchen table sipping on a morning cup of coffee.
Should I pack and put my stuff in storage? I’ll be coming back one day, maybe? Should I tell evil-ass Lester I’m breaking
my lease? I don’t know, I just don’t know. If I go and get settled in Murfreesboro ain’t no need to come back here, right?
She didn’t know what to do about her apartment at all. That was a hard one.
Dr. Vistane got me scheduled for my abortion on Monday.
She began to look at Tuesday as her last day in the city.
I’ll leave out Tuesday night
. Just then the phone rang. Daisy jumped up and answered it.

“Hello,” she said into the phone receiver.

“Yo, Dais, the lawyer just called and said that they pushing the case back two more weeks. The prosecutors postponed it, okay.
The new court date is the twenty-third, so be ready, you understand?”

“Yeah, no problem, I’m gonna mark it on my calendar right now,” she said, taking a pen and scribbling “court date” inside
the twenty-third box on her calendar. She breathed a sigh of relief.
This is the best news I got all day. I got more time to disappear. Do I understand? Does he understand my black ass is getting
out of Dodge? Let’s see if you understand that!

“So, what you doing?” he asked coyly.

“Nothing, just got up. Why, what you doing?”

“Nothing, I’m outside. I got something for you.”

He hung up the phone, and Daisy looked at the receiver.
He got something for me?

She quickly looked around her apartment.
I wonder what he got for me.
She picked up a pair of sweatpants that were lying in the corner of her bedroom. She put them on and slipped on a pair of
slippers. Her hair was wrapped up in a scarf and she had on an oversized white T-shirt, complementing her baggy sweatpants.
She grabbed her keys and headed out the door, making sure it locked behind her.

She walked outside and stood on the front porch. “Hey, Sticks, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, just got something for you,” said Sticks, holding up the keys to a Cadillac Seville. She just looked at him.

“You made me come downstairs for keys?” she asked.

He didn’t say nothing, just picked up her hand and slapped the keys into it.

“What do I do with them?”

“I don’t know, they for your car, so you can do with them whatever you want to,” Sticks said as he motioned to a silver Cadillac
parked across the street.

Daisy looked at him skeptically.

“What the fuck you looking at me all crazy for? Shit, that muhfucker’s right, right there. They don’t make ’em like that no
more.”

“That’s my car?”

“Yeah, you rolling now, baby. And she’s clean.”

“Wow it’s beautiful. What kind is it?”

“It’s a 1979 Cadillac Seville. It don’t get more gangster than this, baby.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe you got me a car.”

“Well, technically, I didn’t get you no car. This here is from Nard. He’s the one that got you a car. He wanted to thank you,
for what you’re doing. So, he got you a car.”

“Wow,” Daisy whispered to herself, unable to believe that she had the most beautiful shiny silver Cadillac in the whole world
and it was all hers.

“He’s taking care of the paperwork. By the time you testify, he’ll have the title waiting for you,” Sticks said, matter-of-fact.
He had it all mapped out. Every detail was covered, and if it wasn’t, it would be. Nard would come home. The entire case was
circumstantial, even the girl who identified him from a photo in her hospital bed was dead. Who could be 100 percent sure
to take her word on that? Anybody could build doubt around that. No, Nard would come home. It was just a matter of time. All
they needed was one good witness to testify he was nowhere near the crime scene. Everything else was covered.

“Listen, Sticks, come here, sit down, please.” They sat on the steps outside her apartment. “I can’t take this car. I can’t.
It’s too much.”

“Yo, Dais, is you crazy, take the car. You saving a man’s life, so go ’head.”

“I can’t save that man’s life, Sticks. That alibi ain’t no good, it’s not gonna work.”

Daisy wished in her heart of hearts that she hadn’t said nothing, just took the keys and kept on going. She looked down, not
wanting to face him.

“Man, listen, that alibi is good, Dais, we straight,” said Sticks, confident and sure.

“No, it’s not. Calvin said that guy, Nard, wasn’t twenty-one and wasn’t old enough to drink.”

“What you mean, wasn’t old enough to drink, and who the fuck is Calvin?”

“Calvin own the club. The police done been talking to him. They saying he wasn’t twenty-one and can’t be up in no bar. He
said he wasn’t losing his liquor license behind it and said he already told the police I wasn’t working that night.”

“Was you?”

“I think so, but shit, I don’t remember.”

Man, what the fuck? Just when one problem is solved, here go another fucking one. I thought that nigga was twenty-one, he
stay in fucking neighborhood bars drinking. Fuck, why he didn’t tell me?

“Who the fuck is Calvin?”

“Calvin, Calvin Stringer, the owner, my boss, hello… he done told the police I wasn’t even there that night, he said I was
off.” She stopped and said nothing more. She didn’t want Sticks to know that the police had paid her a visit too.
That should be enough. Maybe he’ll figure out something else, so I don’t have to testify now.
“He was so mean to me, he threw me out the club. I mean you don’t know. I been messed up, I can’t even tell you. Calvin wouldn’t
give me my job back and I haven’t had no money, and nobody to help me.”

Sticks asked her a few more questions about Calvin Stringer, like what he drove, where he would be at, what he looked like,
how old he was, dark-skinned, light-skinned, and all the typical investigative questions. After being arrested and getting
interrogated and having a long-term relationship with the police and detectives, a brother learns a few tricks on gathering
information.

Daisy sat still and let Sticks think. He replayed what Daisy said one more time. He figured, from her telling him about Calvin,
that she was to be trusted. He pulled out a thousand dollars and slid it to her.

“It’s a grand.”

“A thousand dollars, for what?”

“You said you lost your job, right? And Calvin wouldn’t hire you back, right? Well that’s to hold you down, okay.”

“But, Sticks, the alibi, it’s ruined.”

“Don’t worry about that. Let me handle Calvin Stringer. I got it all under control, you understand?” he asked, passing her
the money.

“Yeah, I hear you,” she said, taking the money, but knowing in her heart that there was no way possible that he’d want her
to testify now.

“You sure you want me to take this money and the car, ’cause I feel bad?”

“Don’t feel bad, shouldn’t nothing be feeling bad about you, all that pussy you got, Dais,” he said, and then he stood up,
reached out his arm and helped pull her up as he felt between her legs. “I might come back over, check you out later.”

“You better call first. I got a couple of dollars, so it’s no telling where I might be,” said Daisy, hoping he wasn’t serious.
She still missed Reggie—actually, she still had a glimmer of hope that he’d be back.

Sticks left, and Daisy watched his taillights until they faded. She walked down the sidewalk to where the Seville was parked.
She sat in the driver’s seat, placed her fingers around the steering wheel, and pretended she was driving.
Why does life have to be so complicated?
She was caught between a rock and a hard place. There was no doubt about that. Sticks still seemed adamant that everything
would be okay, but deep down she had a bad feeling about the situation.
As long as I don’t have to testify, I guess it will be all right. Sticks said don’t worry about it, he said he’d fix it.

She sat in the car a long time, thinking. She had her own problems to fix. She rubbed her belly. This would be the first thing.
Deep down, she knew Reggie was the father, and she knew he wasn’t coming back. She was hoping he would, even gave him a couple
of extra weeks, but he had never showed up. She had waited long enough. Tomorrow was the big day, the big showdown. Dr. Vistane
had her scheduled for Monday at 7:00
A.M
.
At least I’m first thing, early in the morning.
She had strict instructions to follow. She wasn’t allowed to eat or drink after midnight. She had to have someone pick her
up and take her home. The doctor’s office was not allowed to release her because of the anesthesia that would be used. She
hadn’t quite figured out who she’d call on, if anybody. But the last time she had an abortion, the clinic let her take a cab
home, because she had lied and said her grandmother was at home waiting to take care of her. So, yellow taxi was starting
to look like the designated driver.
God I swear this is the last abortion. I swear I won’t get any more, ever.
She couldn’t help but talk to herself. She couldn’t help but to feel remorse about what had to be done. She honestly didn’t
mean to get pregnant. It just happened.
I wish I knew where Reggie was.
Then again, something told her that wherever Reggie was, he could just go ahead and stay there.
I know he’s with another woman, he’s got to be, to be gone this long. I can’t believe he never came back, just never came
back.