Chasing Taboo

Olivia was suddenly restless. It was a warm, beep-free night in Hero’s arms and the soft blanket of sleep had long since washed over the cluttered household.  Hero was stroking Olivia’s hair. She wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep or how long he had been touching her hair, and she was even less sure how long she was supposed lie there pretending to be asleep before she made a move. She decided not long, and sat up.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry.” He spoke in a low, sleepy groan. “Did I wake you up?”

“Is this what you’re gonna do? I’m gonna lay here asleep and you’re just gonna stroke my hair?”

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Where are the smartass remarks? The hateful jabs? The spiteful sentiments?”

He looked aside. “Uhh… you’re a bitch?”

 “Christ, is that all you got?” She fell back into bed with a defeated sigh. “Why are you being so nice to me all the sudden?”

He shrugged. “I’m happy.” He started touching her again. “You look like a little bunny when you’re sleeping.”

“Okay, this is just getting weird now.”

He pulled his arm back. “Look, bitch, if you want a shitty relationship, pack up your shit and get the fuck out of here, I don’t need any drama queen bullshit in this house.”

She smiled. “That’s better.” She kissed his forehead. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he grunted, turning away. “And stop stealing the damn blanket. Sleeping next to your frigid ass is cold enough.”

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

“Psst. Olivia.”

Olivia stirred, but Hero was fast asleep. She tried to shake off the moment of confusion, not sure where the whispering voice was coming from.

“Pssssst! Olivia!”

Olivia looked toward the blurry glow around the bedroom door until her sleepy eyes gave her clearance to recognize shape. It was Mixer. He didn’t speak further, he just gestured to her to get up. She did, and followed him down the hall and into the bathroom.

“Mixer, what’s going on?”

He looked in the mirror and tugged on his hair. His pupils were dilated.

“Mixer, are you high?” asked Olivia, stepping gingerly toward him. “You okay?”

He reached forward, took something into his hands, and turned around and faced her. He took her hand, and put the object into it. It was a pair of drug store sheers. She wrapped her fingers around the scissors and gently lifted her head, waiting for a cue from the emotional, drugged boy in front of her

“Olivia,” he said, sniffling slightly. His eyes were red. “Will you cut my hair?”

She laughed a little and tightened her grip around the handle. “Sure.” She ran her fingers through his hair with a comforting smile. “Sit down. Grab a towel and put it around your shoulders.”

Olivia sat with her legs crossed, her nearly bared ass heating Hero’s thigh. She gently sipped on her apple soju as Ace and Cojack were laughing and carrying on between drinks, the meat of their exchange barely hanging onto a hard bone of unintelligible, ghetto vernacular.

Wildcard, who had apparently enjoyed a generous serving of liquor along with Seneka’s last stage, fell into the VIP lounge with a grandiose thud, collapsing into a drunk pile right in the middle of Cojack’s personal space.

 “What it is, nigga.” Wildcard grabbed Cojack’s hand.

“Fuck you, you know I don’t like you callin’ me nigga.” Cojack pulled his hand back.

“Shit, nigga, don’t trip on what you is,” smirked Wildcard. “Where the soju at?”

Mixer started to pour him some, but Hero gently places his hand in Mixer’s way. Wildcard had clearly had enough tonight.

“Anyway,” said Cojack. “Like I was saying, Tyrone had a crowbar ready when Ray-Ray was comin’ down the stairs, so we was ready to take him out. Tyrone swung at his legs, so then that motherfucker hit the ground, and I went buck wild on that bitch ass nigga, and Tyrone told ‘im ‘fuck you nigga, leave Tashawnda alone!’”

“That dumb nigga’s beatin’ on Tashawnda?” Wildcard said. “Shit, man, that nigga’s fucked up.” He shook his head. “If he had a daddy, maybe he’d know how to be a man. Shit, sometimes I think I’m the only nigga from 8th Block who got a daddy! Maybe that’s why I’m good to my woman.”

Cojack stared at Wildcard, cutting a deep silence into VIP.

Wildcard looked up with baffled innocence. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” asked Cojack. “Only nigga from 8th Block who what, bitch?”

“Bitch, you know I’m just playin’—”

“Bitch-ass chink-ass muh-fucker, shut the fuck up—You are Asian!” snapped Cojack. “Act like a goddamn Asian!”

“Well you a man, why don’t you act like that?”

A well-deserved ‘ooh’ reverberated through room.

“You disrespectin’ me now?” said Cojack. “I earned my keep with you and all y’all fuckin’ dog-eatin’ muh-fuckers, I didn’t come here to be called no nigga.”

“But that’s what you are,” bellowed Wildcard. “You a dumbass nigga.”

“Call me a nigga again, you fuckin’ chink!”

“Don’t call me a chink!”

“You are a chink. You a slanty-eyed rice-eatin’ chink.”

Olivia snickered.

“Did that bitch just laugh at me?” snapped Cojack, eyeing Hero.

Wildcard shoved Cojack. “Don’t call her a bitch, ya dumb nigga!”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Wildcard, stop being an asshole—”

“I’m the asshole?” asked Wildcard, his eyes begging. “He’s the asshole! He called Hero’s woman a bitch!”

Cojack pointed to himself. “Oh, so I’m an asshole now?”

“Come on…” Mixer stood up and opened his arms, palms forward. “Does it really matter who the asshole is?”

Cojack scoffed. “I didn’t ask you, sit yo’ chinky ass down.”

Mixer pointed at the redhead. “I thought Dub C was the chink.”

“Dub C is a fuckin’ chink and you a fuckin’ chink too.”

“Will you please refrain from calling my boys chinks?” Hero groaned, placing his brow in his hand.

“Fine,” snapped Cojack. “How about gooks? Rice niggas? Zipperheads?”

Olivia kept laughing.

“That bitch is still laughing,” hissed Cojack. “You find something funny, miss thang?”

“Sorry,” said Olivia, raising her hand to her mouth. “I just think I got lost. Who’s the asshole again?”

“Cojack’s the asshole,” said Wildcard. “And a dumb nigga.”

Ace stood up. “Enough!” He faced the table, pointing at them all one by one. “Cojack’s a nigga, Wildcard and Mixer are both chinks, Olivia’s a bitch, and we’re all assholes!” He sat back down. “Except Mixer. Mixer’s a pretty nice guy.”

Mixer smiled. “Thanks hy’ung!”

“No problem.”

Hero turned toward Ace. “Ace, don’t call my woman a bitch.”

Ace didn’t even turn his head. “Eat my ass. Olivia is a bitch.”

Olivia frowned.

“What?” asked Ace, eyes wide. “I love you to death, baby girl, but you are kind of a bitch.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Hero. “Nobody calls me woman a bitch but me.” He looked at Olivia. “Ain’t that right, bitch?”

Olivia nodded. “That’s right.”

Wildcard pouted. “Can I still call Cojack a dumb nigga?”

Hero leaned back weakly and sighed. “Cojack. Wildcard. Get the fuck out of here.”

“But hy’ung—”

“Get. Out.”

Grumpy and irritated, they did, bickering the whole way out.

“Yo, Mixer.” Hero nodded to the youngest. “What’s up with the hair?”

Mixer sparkled. “Olivia cut it last night.”

Hero looked back at Olivia. He smiled. “Good job.”

She smiled distantly with a slight blush to her cheeks. “Thanks.”

“What’s the matter with you?” He stroked her shoulder. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

She clearly wasn’t. Hero pouted. “You worried about something, chag’ya?”

“You mean besides the whole just-moved-out-of-my-parents-house-to-live-with-Asian-gangsters thing? Nothing, I’m peachy.”

“You ain’t gotta be scared of shit, you know we got you,” said Ace.

“You won’t ‘have me’ if you guys all get arrested,” said Olivia. “You’re still criminals.”

Hero laughed. “We own the cops.”

“Yeah, I know, you say that but—”

“Seriously. Chag’ya. We own the cops. I’ll prove it. Call 911.”

“What?”

“Here.” Hero handed her his phone. “Use my phone, even. Call 911 and tell them… tell them I’m raping you.”

Olivia looked to Ace and Mixer. They didn’t budge.

“Tell them what!?”

“Call them. Tell them Hero Vem is raping you at Club Lanka.”

She grasped the phone, giving the VIP room another look over. Still, no one flinched.

She shrugged. “Alright…” Olivia called.

With her best distressed voice, she whined and pleaded with the operator. She said Hero Vem had raped her, she had stolen his phone in the scuffle, and she was trapped in a room at Club Lanka. She was asked to calm down, as expected, and that someone would be there soon. The most reaction she got out of the Blades was a couple light snickers. She hung up the phone.

“Hero, this isn’t funny,” she said. “Cops are going to come. There are no cops on earth that won’t respond to a call like that.”

“I never said they wouldn’t respond,” said Hero.

Olivia’s eyes bugged out. “Hero, you—”

Hero lifted his finger. “Shh. Wait for it.”

Ace and Mixer sat silently in waiting. Five, four, three…

Ace’s phone buzzed. Hero indicated to everyone to stay quiet as he grabbed Ace’s phone and hit the speaker button.

“’Sup Officer Jensen? It’s Hero.”

A quiet voice emerged on the speaker. “…Hero?”

“Yessir?”

Mixer held in a sharp giggle. A long awkward pause took its toll on VIP.

“Hero…” said Officer Jensen, voice lowering into a grave hiss. “…what the fuck you doing, man!?”

Ace, Hero, and Mixer burst into hysterics.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny, you piece of shit!” cried Officer Jensen. “You scared the shit out of me! I’m sitting here thinking Hero Vem has lost is goddamn mind, raping women—what the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“Did your wife get her birthday present?” Hero smirked.

“Yes, my wife got her birthday present, asshole, and if you send her any more goddamn jewelry I’m gonna start asking some fucking questions.”

“Why? I taught her that thing you like.”

“If you taught my wife anything, you taught her not to listen to a goddamn thing I say. Fuck. You. You hear that!? Fuck. You.”

“Fuck you too. Have a good night.”

Click.

As Ace and Mixer laughed and laughed, Hero leaned over to Olivia. “See? I’m the law down here. Don’t worry.”

A little while after the giggles subsided, Hero got a call from Stone. Hero answered, and as Stone spoke, the joyous glow in Hero’s eyes fled the scene. His face read half confused, half worried. He hung up.

“Come on, O, we gotta go back to the office.”

“Why?”

“Seneka wants to have a word with us. Stone says it seems important.”

“Both of us?” Olivia asked. Now the confusion in his face made more sense.

Olivia followed Hero up the dark stairway. She could see Seneka waiting in the room down the hall, shoulders forward, arms crossed, and Stone nodded at Hero as he passed down the hall.

“Hold up, lemme talk to your girl for a minute,” said Stone. “She’ll be right in.”

Hero nodded and closed the door behind him when he got in the office.

“Why does everybody want to talk to me all of the sudden?” said Olivia.

Stone held out his hand. Olivia took it. Once he had her, he pulled her body close and gave her a big, tight, manly hug.

“Um,” gulped Olivia. “Right, uhh, okay—”

He pat her back. “Thank you.” She could feel his breath over her shoulder. “Thanks for bringing my boy back to life.”

She laughed. “Wow. You really are kind of a girl for a gangster.”

Stone let go and gave her a warm smile. “And you’re kind of a gangster for a girl.” He was still glowing, gold and shiny, as he made his way down the stairs.

Olivia walked through the office door and straight into a heated argument.

“Absolutely not, and that’s final!” Hero shouted. Olivia shut the door behind her.

Seneka rushed to Olivia, face flushed and desperate. “Tell him to give you the safe combination.”

“Whoa, what?”

“Tell him!” said Seneka. “If not for me, for Pansy and that little girl!”

“You’re talking like Death himself is waiting for me around the corner!” said Hero. “It’s fine. The streets are safe, safer than they ever been before, there ain’t no reason for all this shit.”

“It’s safe now, but who knows what could happen!?” said Seneka. “If something happens to you, what are we gonna do? Lug that safe around like them fools with the ATM in Barber Shop? Use your brain, Hero!”

“I am, and I ain’t gonna burden my girl with the safe combination, period!” said Hero. “Now will you get the fuck out of here and make some goddamn money?”

Seneka rolled her eyes and gave Olivia one more hopeful glance. “Talk to him. I know you know what he’s gotta do.” She left.

Hero didn’t look up. “Don’t even try it.”

“She’s right,” said Olivia. “It’s not safe for you to be the only one who can get to the money. You’re not as invincible as you think you are.”

“There ain’t no goddamn reason to think anything’s gonna happen to me!” insisted Hero.

“What the hell do I have to do to get you to trust me?”

“This has nothing to do with trust! I do trust you. I trust you with my life.”

She shook her head. “This is all about power and dominance. You won’t share any power with anyone will you?”

“This has nothing to do with power either!” he snapped. “That combination ain’t my power, chag’ya. It’s my burden, and I can’t share that burden with you. Having one person with that combination is for the protection of the crew. If the safe got opened and shit went missing, the boys know who to blame. If we all knew the combination and shit got stolen, shit would get fucking chaotic fast.”

“Nothing that you’re saying is of any consequence unless you think I might steal, but I won’t. Look at me.” He did. “If, God forbid, something were to happen to you, someone needs to be able to get into that safe. I know that having this responsibility alone is hard on you, but you don’t need to be alone with it. You need someone to carry it with you. You need to trust someone. I can be that person for you.”

Hero took a breath. “Sorry. My answer is no, and that’s that.”

Last call. Closing time. Cars were trickling out of the parking lot, and the crew and the flowers were congregating arond the front patio for their last round of cigarettes. Wildcard’s head lay against the grating of the table as a solid rod of ash crept to the butt of his cigarette.

“You fuckin’ drunk,” muttered Seneka. “Yo Ace, can I bum a square?”

Ace passed her one, but Pansy threw herself forward, knocking the cigarette onto the pavement.

“What the hell is the matter with you!?” cried Ace.

“Seneka can’t smoke!” Pansy cried.

Seneka gave Pansy a wicked glare, throwing Pansy’s eyes to the ground.

Ace raised an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

“Because,” Pansy gulped. “It’s bad for your health.”

Ace eyed the glowing end of her lit cigarette. “That ain’t stopping you.”

“It’s okay,” Seneka said. “I can do without, no big deal.”

“Yeah, but now you got me all curious,” said Ace, looking at Pansy. “Why you trippin’ over it like that?”

“Yeah,” frowned Mixer. “Let the girl have a smoke. She’s had a long night of work, she earned it.”

“Seriously, boys,” said Seneka. “I don’t want it no more.”

Ace looked back at Pansy. “Still, I just wanna know why—”

Pansy looked up. “Because it’s bad for the baby!”

Wildcard’s head flew upright with the imprint of the table on his cheek, and the rest of the crew was motionless. He looked at all of their faces, waiting for the laughter to start. It didn’t come.

“Is…” a very drunk Wildcard choked. “Is this a joke?”

Everyone looked at each other, searching for a verbal rim shot. None. Pansy’s eyes were pointed straight toward the street.

“Is…” Wildcard whispered. He looked at Seneka. “Is it m…” He pointed at himself.

“Oh, please, Wildcard. Don’t insult me by asking if it’s yours.”

Hero jumped to his feet so quickly the chair fell backward. He forced his fingers through his hair and turned his back to the group, bowing his head as he approached the wall.

Every muscle in Seneka’s body was as tight and stiff as spooled wire, unable to bend from its position unless someone gave her a tough tug. They were all quiet as mice, watching Hero with eyes pinned open as if the choice to stare at him didn’t belong to them. Wildcard, meanwhile, stared at nothing. Just forward.

Seneka gulped. My brother… is going… to kill him.

Hero stood still for a good five seconds, silent and reaction free. His head tilted forward, his back becoming an arched lump as he formed a fist and tapped it against the wall. Tap. Tap. Not a punch, just a tap. The lump of his back expanded and contracted with each of his deep, heaving breaths. In, out. In, out. In… and out.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he straightened himself and they watched his elbows bend and his hands reach his mouth. His back was still as his hands did this, and none of them knew what to expect when he turned around, if he would turn around at all. After another few solid, still seconds, he turned swiftly to face them.

His hands may have covered his mouth, but they could see his eyes were smiling. His eyes were smiling slits, glistening with tears and what appeared to be overpowering rapture. His joy illuminated his entire stance and full demeanor. Finally, his hands lowered to reveal the intense grin beneath. And he spoke in a weak, joy-choked tone.

“Congratulations.”

And Wildcard threw up.

Seneka ran toward her brother and gave him a huge hug, tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how I was gonna tell you, I just…”

Hero pat his sister’s back. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be a great mom.”

Seneka was weeping. “Thank you, Hi’luh. Thank you!”

Once the celebrating was done with, everyone began to make their way to their cars. Seneka looked back at her brother with a proud, tear soaked smile.

“You don’t need to be so scared of me,” said Hero. “I just want you to be happy. I love you.”

“I know,” she smiled with a sniffle. “I love you too.”

After the screech of oncoming tires and roaring pop of a close-range gunshot, Hero watched his sister’s head fall apart across the asphalt.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 22nd, 2010 at 2:26 pm and is filed under The Story. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.