Chapter 4
M
atthew moved closer to a boisterous crowd, with signs proclaiming, “No justice, no peace!”
For whom? For what? Aside from a few Occu-parties a few years ago, Williamsburg has been deathly quiet. Nothing has happened in Queens since some Sikhs fought with cricket bats and a sword at a Sikh temple. Wasn't the last “Stop and Frisk” protest back in 2011?
He stood next to a short black woman standing on the edge of the crowd. “Excuse me, but what is he protesting?”
“The usual,” she said. “Police brutality. Stop and Frisk. Racial profiling. He'll be done in a minute. He's already wrecked and wants to get his drink on like the rest of us.” She smiled up at Matthew. “Just another excuse for someone to throw a block party, huh? I ain't complaining, though.” She held up her cup. “You should get you some.”
“I will. Where . . .”
She pointed to a keg in a garbage can filled with ice, and Matthew filled a red cup to the top.
“Stop and frisk ain't worth the risk!” the man shouted, and then he stumbled off the little stage as a DJ started playing some loud stomp music.
Matthew returned to the woman and sipped his beer. “Is that the end of the protest?”
“The protest never really ends around here, but yep.” She squinted up at him. “What brings you over here from Brooklyn?”
She has a good ear. All those earrings studding her ears must amplify speech.
“How do you know I'm from Brooklyn?”
“I can hear, can't I?” she said. “You ain't from around here. Why you really here?”
“Adventure.”
As he drank, he drank her in. She had brown skin, short reddish hair, and a few tattoos leaking out from her arms, neck, and chest.
She's definitely thick in those jeans, but why is she wearing sunglasses on her head? This is another fashion statement I don't understand.
Matthew did, however, like what he saw.
This is one rugged yet feminine woman.
“You came to the right place for adventure.” She peered around him. “You ain't with anyone?”
“No. I'm a free man.”
“Every man here is a free man once he gets his drink on.” She licked her lower lip and smiled. “Why you free, Brooklyn?”
“My girlfriend left me yesterday for a man named Carlo, who took her on a plane to the Dominican Republic.”
“Damn,” she said. “That's harsh.”
Do I mention the condiments? No. Maybe later.
“Tell me about it.”
She stepped closer. “I'm Jade.”
I'm not “Matty” tonight.
“Matt.”
“What you do, Matt?” Jade asked.
“I'm a lawyer.”
Jade narrowed her eyes. “What kind of lawyer are you?”
“I have my own practice.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes relaxed. “What you practice?”
“You name it, I do it.”
“You got a card? I may need your services before the night is through.”
Matthew patted his jacket. “Fresh out, I'm afraid.”
She pulled a pack of Newports from her pocket. “You smoke?”
“No.”
She returned the pack to her pocket. “Nasty-ass habit. You got any bad habits, Matt?”
“I hook up with the wrong people.”
Jade nodded. “Don't we all? If you don't mind hanging with me, I think we can have some adventure together.”
“I will enjoy hanging with you, Jade.”
This woman has adventure written all over her. Are those prison tats? They might just be
.
“All Eyes on Me” it says on her chest. I'll bet the actual eyes areâ
“You into sisters, Matt?” Jade interrupted.
“Tonight, I'm only into you.”
Jade smiled. “Cool. Very cool, Matt from Brooklyn.” She jerked her head to the right. “Shit. I knew that ho would be here. I heard she was out.”
Matt looked through the crowd. “Which . . .”
Jade pointed toward the stage. “Nasty-looking, snaggle-toothed bitch over there, the one with the blonde extensions. She shouldn't have come here. She probably tryin' to get back with me.”
O . . . kay.
“She's trying . . .”
Those
have
to be prison tats on Jade's chest. Jade is feminine in all the right places, but that woman over there is kind of butch, at least six-two and outweighing me.
“Oh. She's your . . . ex?”
“Somethin' like that.” Jade grabbed his arm, pulling him up the stairs and into the nearest brownstone. “But that's past history, from when I was in jail.”
They walked up a narrow set of stairs through a fog of marijuana smoke. “You were . . .”
“In jail?”
Matthew nodded.
“Yeah,” Jade said. “You got a problem with it, Brooklyn?”
“No.”
Jade nodded at several people in the first crowded, smoky room, many of them piled onto several couches. “Most men don't have a problem with it.”
Matthew looked into her eyes. “Are you still . . .”
“I'm holding onto your arm, man,” Jade said. “What you think?”
Matthew put his lips close to the gleaming hardware on her right ear. “I'm thinking . . . cool.”
Jade smiled and winked. “Come on.”
They weaved through dancing couples into the kitchen, where Jade handed him a cup of red liquid. “Drink it slowly, all right? No tellin' what all's in it.” She pulled him into a less-crowded room, a card game going on around a table. “You sure like to stare, Brooklyn. I got something on my face?”
I wasn't staring at your face.
“No. I was just wondering what . . .”
Just say it!
“You have a lot of tats.”
She took his free hand and put it around her waist. “Yeah, and they're all over my body.”
“I can imagine.”
Whatever is in this drink is going straight to my libido. I should have eaten dinner.
Jade rubbed her hip on his leg. “You want to know why I got locked up, huh?”
Matthew nodded. “I'm a curious guy.”
“I like a curious man.” She rubbed her nose on Matthew's neck. “Oh, assault, malicious wounding,” she whispered.
Wow. Anything Jade whispers, even “assault” and “malicious wounding,” sounds sexy
.
“I'm past all that now,” Jade said. “You ever been with a sister, Brooklyn?”
“Do women from Honduras or Trinidad count?” Matthew asked.
Jade smiled. “Oh, you like them light-skinned bitches.”
“I like color in all its many forms.”
Jade moved his hand into her left back pocket. “I got lots of that. All over, too.” She finished her drink and dropped the cup onto the floor. “How tall are you, man?”
“Six-two.”
“You tall all over?” she whispered.
What a question!
“I . . . yeah. I think so.”
Jade kissed his chin. “Good. So you been to house parties before, right?”
“Yes.”
But nothing quite like this.
“Then you know the drill,” Jade said. “Get your drink on, don't look cross-eyed at no one, dance only if you can or you don't give a shit if people talk bad about you cuz you can't, and don't play cards if you don't know what the hell you're doing.” She looked around. “And don't let go of me at any time.”
Matthew nodded. “Them's the rules, huh?”
“Them's the rules.”
Matthew and Jade floated from room to room sipping from Matthew's cup, watching games of spades, and getting a contact high, occasionally stopping to dance, her hips to his thighs, the bass making the floor jump.
During Fantasia's “When I See U,” Jade put her lips on his ear. “I want to be alone with you.”
Matthew felt Jade's heat. “I like the sound of that.”
“You do, huh?”
Matthew's hands filled her tiny back pockets. “Very much.”
“Let's find us some privacy,” Jade said.
Here?
Jade dragged him to a door in a dark hallway. After a flushing sound and a man emerged, Jade pushed Matthew into a tiny bathroom, closing and locking the door behind them.
“Here?” Matthew asked.
Jade slipped out of her shoes, dropped her pants, and hopped up onto the sink. “You wanted some adventure, right?”
I'm in a brownstone in Queens, and there's a half-naked brown woman balancing her gorgeous booty on a white sink. Look at those tats snaking in all directions from under those tight red panties.
“Yeah,” Matthew said. “I wanted some adventure.”
“Then let's get to it.” She unbuttoned her shirt, unsnapping her bra, two tattooed breasts spilling out.
Those aren't breasts. They're art. Just look at those eyes!
Matthew's interior brakes, slowed by the alcohol, eventually caught.
I should have borrowed some condoms from Monique
. “I don't have a condom.”
Jade pulled one out of her shirt pocket and handed it to him. “Let's see what you got.”
Matthew looked at the condom and smiled.
XL.
He then felt the floor sway as he began unbuckling his belt.
Whatever was in that drink is kicking my ass.
As he started to unzip, someone pounded on the bathroom door.
“Jade, you ho!” a woman yelled. “What the hell you doin' in there?”
“Shit,” Jade whispered. “The ho found me.”
Matthew froze in mid-zip.
“I'm gettin' some, bitch!” Jade yelled. “Come on, Matt,” she whispered. “We ain't got much time.”
Matthew hesitated, then continued to unzip, his pants falling to the floor.
“You ain't bad-looking for a white man,” Jade whispered. “Got something goin' on down there, too. I see it peeking out at me.”
Jade's ex pounded harder on the door.
Jade held out her arms. “Come on, Matt.”
Matt fumbled with the condom.
The pounding continued.
“Come on, man,” Jade pleaded. “Let's do this so I can get out there and straighten that.”
The door seemed to move briefly off its hinges, dust floating into the air. “Get your ass out here, bitch!”
Matthew dropped the condom and backed away in search of it.
“Where you goin', Brooklyn?” Jade whispered.
“I can't,” Matthew said. “The pounding . . .”
“Get!”
Boom
. “The hell!”
Boom
. “Out here!”
Boom, boom, boom!
There's way too much bass in the music here.
Matthew pointed at the door. “That is ruining my concentration.”
The top half of the door began to splinter.
“Oh,
hell
nah!” Jade yelled. She put on her pants, shoes, and bra in a flash.
She has to be the fastest dresser on earth.
Jade buttoned up her shirt. “You stay put, Matt. I'll be back in a minute.” She stood at the door as a jagged crack formed in front of her. “Step back, bitch! I'm comin' out!” Jade looked back at Matthew. “Don't go nowhere. We ain't done yet.” She jerked open the door, slammed it behind her, and the cursing began.
Matthew looked down.
We have major shrinkage.
He pulled up his pants, zipped, tightened his belt, found the condom, and tossed it into a wastebasket. As he turned, he saw a picture of black Jesus on the wall.
What would You do? I know. You wouldn't have gotten into this situation in the first place. Could You help me get out of here? I'd really appreciate it.
He checked the window.
Painted shut and two stories up anyway.
He eased open the door and saw two women scrapping in the hallway, a whirlwind of hands and feet and hair, a tremendous amount of skin, pictures falling off the walls, and drunken people cheering them on. When Jade and her ex tumbled down the stairs to the cries of “Oh, shit!” and “Watch out below!” Matthew heard one last “Bitch!” and then . . . silence.
Is it over?
He edged out the door and down the hallway, stopping at the top of the stairs to see flashing red and blue lights. A man talking to another man at the bottom of the stairs laughed and said, “She knocked her ass
out.
That bitch can punch, yo.”
Should I go investigate? I have no doubt that my date “lost.” Should I use the back door?
He moved slowly down the stairs and into the doorway in time to see an officer handcuffing Jade, the
other
woman laid out on the ground with two women fanning her face, while other police held back a huge crowd. One officer sat on the sidewalk holding both hands over his bloody nose.
Matthew slipped outside to the stoop, the red and blue lights crisscrossing his body.
“That's my lawyer right over there!” Jade yelled.
Oh shit. Now all eyes are on
me.
I wanted to be incognito tonight!
The officer holding Jade's arm summoned Matthew to him.
Matthew nodded at several people in the crowd as he approached, hoping that by nodding he could clear his head enough to sound lawyerly.
“You're her lawyer?” the police officer asked.
This is no way to get a client.
“Yes.”
I am now.
“Matthew McConnell. What are you charging her with?”
“What
aren't
we charging her with?” the officer said. “Parole violation, disorderly conduct, drunk in public, assault, and assault on a police officer.”