Chapter Fourteen

FOURTEEN

I slowly turn and let out a laugh when I fully face him. "How long have you been there?"

He begins to move in. " Long enough to see a different part of you."

Suddenly lacking words, I walk to the chips and pick it from the floor then I return to the window and begin to chew carelessly with my eyes in his direction.

Dwayne keeps his palms on the back of the long Sofa, facing the television - facing me.

"Where is your family?" he asks.

I say nothing.

"Were you married, Imani?"

That question makes me smile and then I exhale. Some of the weight dissolves and spreads again inside me returning to their crooks.

"Well, did you have a child?"

I do not understand the pamphlet his questions are coming from. The absurdity is pushing me to laugh out loud. He seems to be randomly throwing out these questions expecting one to hook.

"You'll have to give me something else," he says, coming closer to me." The last lie you told has expired."

I place a hand over my mouth. "Oops, too bad."

"If you think I'm a problem here, then I'll go," I say.

"Then you should," he says, matching my stare. " Leave tomorrow."

I did not expect him to agree to sending me back to the streets but he seems to think I am running away from something that I do not want to talk about. But what's wrong with secrets?

He is standing close to the television now. He bends and reconnects the wires then sits on the single sofa. He is waiting for me to do something, probably fall into his bait. I weigh my options and decide.

"I had a daughter. One day she bled out wearing my dress. I have no husband."

I wish the lights were on so I could see if he believed me.

"Every other thing I told you is true."

He is silent for a while. He could be asleep there and I won't even know.

I sniff. "I'm no danger. I just need this shelter."

He gets to his feet and disconnects the television that it starts to cackle.

"You should have some sleep, Imani," he says. He walks to me and I stare back . He's so close that I will be stupid to fake a cry.

"When you say something true, I will know."

" Your girlfriend is ugly."

I can tell he's amused by the snort he lets out and the way he bends his head.

"She's just a lay."

"A lay is not someone you sleep with more than once."

" You are a lay then?" he says, " my lay."

He says it hoping to annoy me but I smile. " If you are desperate to give me a title."

He shakes his head and steps back. " It won't happen again."

I laugh. " I have a feeling that as your honey stick has dipped into my honey pot, we're going to be doing that more."

Dwayne picks up the remote before going to reconnect back the television. He settles on a couch and throws his legs on a table.

"I know girls like you. They can have sex with anything," he says, " I just let it happen. I did want you to feel rejected. You are bruised enough."

What a poor excuse he had for pleasure.

I am not offended. It just feels as though he told a lie he thinks I believe but I choose to indulge him. "Why will you say that of me?"

From where I stand, I can not see what's playing. He turned off the volume and he is watching the muted television now without paying attention to me.

There is nothing to say. I'm sure he hopes I understand that I should let him be alone. I walk to my room leaving him with the mute television.

He already knew I needed that television to sleep. I have been awake for so many days now without getting a proper sleep. Right now, I wish I could buy it.

Zuri is still on the floor in my room. I drag her out of the room into the corridor. Then I kick the door closed.

I pick a carton, tear off the upper layer and begin to squish it in my palms while counting numbers backwards.

I know when Zuri is lifted and taken to her room. That he found her on the floor makes me feel satisfied. My lips move to the side with a small smile.

I expected Zuri to have a hangover in the morning of the next day and she did not disappoint.

Dwayne left very early for work. His shift must have changed. He told me where I could get the pills to give her from. I said nothing as he dished out the instructions, but he did not believe I would help so he wrapped some drugs and placed them on the kitchen table.

Did he not think of how perfect the timing was to give her some sodium cyanide?

Zuri is still sleeping and it's noon. I have been tempted to crawl out of the window because I do not like the idea of feeling confined or taking care of Zuri.

I walk to the kitchen window and look down. Business is going on as usual. Children are playing around. A bike hoots as it approaches and everyone clears off as he passes. The bike does not belong here. It seems out of place. It was a shiny dark color and looked quite expensive. It's too expensive to come to this area.

The rider is wearing a helmet but from the stature, I can tell it's a woman. I put my head outside the window as if I could get a closer look from up here.

The rider is wearing a kind of shirt that is all too familiar to my eyes. As she moves down, the shirt flaps in the air, waving at me.

The sound of a knock at the door makes me look away briefly before returning my attention to the window. The bike was still there progressing at a slow pace because of the crowd on the road.

The knock sounds again. This time I move away from the kitchen and sit in the parlor. I grab a book from the pile under the television and spread my legs on the couch.

A phone begins to ring under the couch. I kneel and retrieve it. Zuri's picture is the wallpaper of the phone.

I settle on the floor and begin to go through the phone. Zuri is more wild than I have seen judging from the photos in her phone.

A message pops:

"Come get the door."

I decided to go to Kent's Instagram page. He only posts on his story, not his feed. There is an update there. One picture was a quote, the other was of a beautiful mansion. So he is alive. He was not kidnapped either.

I still wonder if anyone looked for me or if I was a nightmare that vanished.

Another message:

"Zuri WTF! I'm at the door."

A knock follows the message. I sigh and walk to the door. I unbolt the door and part it slightly to see the girl that was sitting beside Zuri yesterday. Well, it's not Lamar. I'm relieved a bit.

She must be wishing she could strangle me. I can even smell the fumes of her anger.

I slowly unhook the chain after we did an eye battle. She pushes past me and enters the house. Seeing Zuri's phone in my hand, she tries snatching it but I hold on to it.

"Psycho," she says, walking away.

I laugh and walk to the cushion. I drop the phone on the center table and return to my room with a book. Soon I'll have all the words in this book memorized so when I am alone, lines from it will freely fall out from my mouth.

I think Dwayne called her to babysit his sister. He must have felt that a hangover was something to be scared about.

I have had alcohol many times but I have never been drunk before. It could be that I know my limit or I can not get drunk.

The power comes on and I walk to the sitting room. I find the disc containing Zuri's military movie and insert it then I lie on the couch.

Footsteps approach the living room. I remain as I am, uninterested in the newcomer till she stands in front of me now wearing her high waisted shorts with a bra.

"You have to move out of my way," I say.

She bends down and goes through the names at the sides of the disc packs then selects one.

She stops the movie I'm seeing and looks at me. "We want some music right now."

Zuri walks in, draped in a blanket and pink socks on her feet.

"I want my head off right now," she says as she falls into the single sofa.

I raise my head and look at her disheveled hair that is standing in spikes. "Take the drugs on the table. Your brother recommended them."

" Thanks," she says and begins to walk to the kitchen.

Their music comes on. It begins with crazy beats and vulgar lyrics. I love music but I will definitely not play this genre at noon in a place that does not have one single fan.

Zuri's friend hops and goes to the kitchen. I sit up and watch them. She is pulling Zuri to her body for a dance. I wish Zuri would slap her after refusing but she does not.

Zuri settles her head on her body and her friend wraps her hands around her.

Soon they kiss. Zuri moves back and leans on the table. They kiss some more before they part, looking into each other's eyes.

"So did the drugs work!" I yell, louder than I am supposed to.

Zuri moves to the door of the kitchen and looks at me before closing the door.

I feel thirsty so I walk to the kitchen and open the door. Zuri's friend is standing in between her legs. Their lips are locked and the straps of her bra are off. They disjoint and look at me.

I grab a bottle from the fridge. "I'm thirsty."

"You should be," her friend or lover says, leading her out.

The satisfaction I feel from this singular act is not much. It feels like I got dried bread without cream.

I drink my water and shrug before going to change the music back to what I was watching.