Her eyes widened as cool curiosity blew through her.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this…” He swallowed, looked towards an older couple sitting close by, then continued. “But you seem pretty upset with me when I don’t tell you everything. And, I’m still not going to tell you everything, but I’ll get better and better about opening up to you, ’cause you deserve that. It’s only right.”
“Aaron, you’re jumping all over the place and not making sense. Don’t try to protect my feelings. Tell me what’s on your mind; let’s get all of this out in the open.”
He nodded in agreement.
“When I confronted you, I had already seen signs prior that made me believe you weren’t who you said you were.”
The coolness inside of her dropped a few degrees, grabbed onto her bones, and threatened to give her teeth-chattering chills. When the man had looked at her while he’d played basketball in the prison yard so long ago, it had felt as if he was looking
through
her… like he’d already known her from another day, another year, another lifetime. And now, she realized, that uncomfortable dis-ease may have been in fact true…
“Yeah, you still had the same personality, the same spirit and sense of humor, but I pretty much knew you weren’t white, Mia.” He coughed into his balled up fist and cut their mutual glances short.
“What?” she gasped as her head began to throb and she fell into a deep well filled with perplexity.
“I tried to convince myself otherwise. I made excuses and there’s no point in you knowing
how
I knew; all of that is just bullshit, not really important, but just know that I
did
. The only reason why I’m telling you now is because I think you need to understand that I hated myself for several weeks for still bein’ in love with you after I couldn’t shake my suspicions. It got to a boiling point when you’d written your actual name, ’cause you left me no choice but to confront you at that time… I hated that you made me say somethin’, but I
knew
, Mia.” his voice trailed as he rubbed hands nervously against one another. “Yeah… I knew…”
“Oh my God.” She fell harshly against the back of the bench seat, closed her eyes, and shook her head. “You know I have questions, Aaron.” Then, opening her eyes, the tears she could no longer hold back started to fall. “But, maybe you’re right. Maybe none of that matters now.”
“I had to do it just like I did, Mia, because … after I realized what you’d done… how you hid the truth from me about who you really were, I hated not only you, but myself, too.”
“Why?”
“Because I still loved you anyway and I didn’t want no excuse to stop!” His eyes glossed over. An employee moved about the area, picking up empty trays and discarding plastic utensils from the tables. An occasional burst of laughter came from a table chock full of teenagers, their lives in full bloom, protected by the unknown.
“You haven’t stolen from me, Aaron. I need to make that clear. I
gave
you my all. And nothing was given to you that I didn’t
want
you to have.” Steel, ice, and a few razor blades danced in her tone, though she didn’t mean it that way. She softened the edge of her delivery at the end, though she meant the words just the same. “It was a mutual exchange. Some were beautiful gifts we gave to one another, some were painful lessons we each had to learn, but we’ve both given to one another. This wasn’t one sided. I’m kind, yes, but not a fool.”
The man nodded and smiled at her, then reached out to hold her hand in his. Starting a slow caress along her knuckles, he warmed them with the simple touch. They simply stared at one another, forging a commitment, making oaths, vows, and unspoken declarations.
“I need to get ready to go to spend this evening with my daughter. I promised her I’d be back later on, like I told you.” Mia nodded in understanding. “Tomorrow, I want to take you out on a date, okay? A
real
date.”
She nodded and smiled as her cheeks heated with sentiment and love for the man sitting across from her.
“Okay. That sounds good.”
“I’m going to pick you up ’round six. I’ll ring the bell, like a gentleman. Then, I’m goin’ to take you out and we’ll do the things we’ve been daydreamin’ about – some elaborate, some just every day, simple things.”
“Simple things are many times the
best
things…”
“I want to court you, honey. Treat you like a
real
lady; treat you how you deserve to be treated. No, I take that back.” He shook his head as if he’d spoken out of place. “You deserve
way
more than I can give, but I’ll try to come as close as possible. When I want something, I never give up, and I want you more than anything in this whole world.”
She smirked at the man as he laughed lightly.
“Aaron, in time, you will see that I was right about you.”
“Really? That I’m this great, fantastic man, right?” He chortled. “I
am
fantastic.” He caused both of them to burst out laughing louder. “No, really I am, but I’m fucked up, too. It’s fine.” He shrugged. “Don’t they say knowing is half the battle?”
“Yes, but it’s not just that. We’re all messed up, Aaron. No one is perfect, especially in this crazy world. Dysfunction is reality.”
“Yeah, I’d have to agree with that, Mia. We’re all fucked up, huh?” He smirked.
“Yes, and we can both be fucked up together,” she said. He smiled real wide at her then, causing her to return the gesture in kind. “There are just different levels of the fucktivity, and we want the playing field to be a bit more even.”
At this, he burst out laughing so hard, the thick vein in his neck protruded.
“I’ve never heard you use that word before!”
“What?” She grinned sheepishly, knowing damn well she dropped F bombs at least a few times a month. He’d find out soon enough.
“Oh don’t give me that
‘what?’
shit.” He imitated her, batting his thick eyelashes in a girly fashion. “And then the way you just used it…fucktivity…man.” He leaned back in his seat and sighed as if finally at peace.
Sweet relief.
“That was funny… damn funny.” She smiled at the man, so happy she was the cause of him relaxing a little, taking it easy.
“You deserved the forgiveness you received.” She winked at him. “You know yourself better now. You’ve turned a new leaf so to speak, but now, I need you to see yourself as worthy of having all the good luck and love that has come your way. There are a lot of ugly words in this world, but the F word, in this case, stands for forgiveness, and that word sure ain’t a bad one. You didn’t steal anything from me, Aaron. You did give me something though. Now, it’s time to give yourself something, too.”
“What?”
“Give yourself the gift of forgiveness. It’s long overdue…”
Chapter Ten
S
OMETIMES YOU SEE
a mirage and then realize it ain’t no mirage after all. Instead, it’s just a warped, smudged mirror, and in that mirror is your sad little reflection lookin’ back at you…
Marcus leaned against the wall of the building, nursing a crooked cigarette that would have to last him ten more minutes. The damn thing was so tiny and used up, he wasn’t sure it would make it, but his budget told him he better make that shit ride on out until the last drop of ash fell off. He took another toke, feeling a bit uneasy as he stared up at the deep, mauve sky, where the clouds gather together like handfuls of cotton while threatening to do something ugly, downright heinous.
Life had been just as foul and unkind. So much so, he questioned at times whether he was in his right mind. He’d made an anonymous call some time ago and once he did, everything, within reason and out of scope, had changed. The police demanded he come in, explain himself… and that’s when shit got real.
Being dubbed a damn snitch was not a good look. He could no longer move about in his own skin, but that skin never fit him well anyway. No tailor could fix it, and a seamstress would surely just be wasting her precious time. Conceivably it wasn’t that at all; maybe he had it all wrong? Perhaps he fit in his skin just fine, but others around him—the clouds so to speak—thought he looked a bit out of place, needed him to find a costume of sorts to hide his true self.
Yet, after many failed attempts at conformity, he’d thrown in the towel. He never did quite fit in for he was too large for the place people attempted to shove him inside. It became painful trying to squeeze his over-sized essence into a two-dimensional hole chock full of nothingness. And besides, nothingness was boring, stale, and dismal. He always dreamed big, wanted more. The stifling feeling was an affliction, and he was cursed.
Regardless, he refused to let any motherfucka chase him out of Alabama. Surely, he could find his niche. There was still time. Besides, leaving wasn’t an option. His wife’s family was there, his daughter’s roots; it was home, albeit now a sour home – and home was where the bullets lived. He’d been threatened, attempts made to get him to confess, but he refused. Rather, he opted to lie with a straight face. As he was considered to be on the up and up and a square allowed the inquisitions to die down for the time being. He was lucky he’d been
asked
at all…
The code of the street was to shoot a fucker dead and ask questions later. Corpses don’t talk, but no one cared. Life was as important to many of his peers as a falling leaf from a tree. Trees stood tall during storms, and he followed suit. Besides, there was no concrete proof that he’d stolen Terence’s phone at that party and when the accusation made its blood sniffing round for the one hundredth time he denied the shit once again, but many doubted him all the same. Ironically, Go-Go wasn’t one of them – he’d vouched for his innocence, but that did little good. You didn’t need proof in the hood; only an inkling and a shard of a suspicion was as solid as word being bond.
He had a mark on his back now, the kind that didn’t scrub off with prison soap or disappear with wishful thinking. This went much further than an anonymous call to the police precinct regarding footage to prove Aaron was provoked and defending his own life. Due to his untimely actions, Aaron’s case rang the alarm, and before anyone could blink an eye, the man was out on the street again after the previously hidden video went viral.
Worse yet, since Clarence passed away, there was a civil court case from the family of Mr. Clarence Gable that had been filed, a wrongful death that was sure to get them a large sum of money. Aaron had some shit. Everyone knew it, and most wanted a piece of the pie. He owned a profitable business that specialized in private armed services for quite a few local companies, people needing an extra bit of protection for an event and wealthy clients who required 24-7 observation and care. He was living that ‘white man on cloud 9 racist dream’. Yet, now, that civil case was as good as the Titanic – sunk, minus the band still playing until the last drop of ocean had taken them down whole.
He peered at his watch, ticked off that his lunch break had almost come to a finish. Tapping the final ashes of his sad little cigarette butt into the receptacle, he worked out in his mind that he had to memorize the new order numbers for the catalog. There was an umbrella series that was all the rage. The cheap, plastic things came in various colors of the rainbow. He hated rainbows…
Just then, a tall man shrouded in his own shadow slammed the door of a shiny, jet black Chevrolet Silverado pick-up truck. The enormous vehicle picked up his reflection as he stormed towards him like a lightning bolt. His big, long arms swung back and forth, fist balled tight as if he were coming in the place to go postal. The man’s face was partially hidden under a Montgomery Biscuits baseball cap that covered his eyes and only allowed a glimpse of his shaded face.
“Who the fuck is this comin’ up here like the huntin’ knife he ordered from us was made of rubber? Another unsatisfied customer…”
He took another puff of his cigarette before the thing tapped out. With a grimace, he crossed his ankles and tried to stay calm. This was his quiet spot, his little oasis and reprieve. It didn’t matter that he was standing close to the front door; everybody used the back door for the majority of tasks. No one came out there unless it was quittin’ time, and that was just how he liked it.