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Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 02

By: dsoul



The rain was still falling but no longer where they under it. The room was dark -- Eric had killed the lights -- they liked it like that. They stood in its centre, naked, feeling their hands over each other's body. Their fingers intertwined and like lovers lost at sea, pulled themselves towards each other. His hands felt for her face and their lips met in a gentle kiss. The kiss at first seemed tentative, but then their tongues felt over each others, everything else followed suit. Eric led her towards the bed -- it was his apartment they were in -- and lowered her down on it. Shanice pulled him down to meet him. A flash of lightning illuminated their faces but only briefly. 

Eric kissed the side of her neck; Shanice shuddered slightly from it. Her hands held him down to her, feeling his chest press against her breasts, making her nipples tingle with excitement. Eric ran his tongue over the underside of her chin, and went downward to cup his lips over his her left nipple. He gave it a pinch, then a bite; Shanice moaned at the same time pushed herself upward to meet him. Eric jumped from one tit to the other, squeezing the other gently while he did, and when he was done he continued downward to the little patch of hair growth that on her pubic region. Shanice muttered a sigh. Her hands caressed Eric's hair while her hips pushed up to meet his questing lips. Eric probed her pussy with his tongue, inhaling the musky scent that was her scent. God, how she tasted so good, he thought to himself. Her planted his hands under her ass cheeks and gave her bottom a further lift to his face. Shanice squeezed her eyes and groaned so loud when she felt herself cum.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Oh God ... Eric, I want you right now."

She pulled him towards her. Her lips met with his. She tasted her pussy juice on his lips as his tongue slid into her mouth. Her hand grasped his cock and she spread her legs and slid it into her wetness. It was Eric's turn to gasp -- how wonderful it felt being inside of her.

Their bodies became one and they made love into the wee hours of the night.

The rain had long stopped its torrent; the world outside was peaceful and quiet. Eric reached across the bed and switched on the bedside lamp then turned his attention to the beauty sleeping in his arms. He gently traced a finger against her cheeks and then over her full set of lips. How beautiful she looked. At that moment he felt like he was one of the few luckiest men alive. He searched around his side of the bed till he found his wristwatch and glanced at the time. It was at that moment Shanice stirred in his arm, her eyes fluttering to wakefulness.

"What time is it?" she asked dreamily.

"Why, you got some other place you ought to be at?"

Shanice snorted. "Not right now do I."

"Well, if you must know, it's a little past two."

"Wow. I'm going to sleep like a dog when morning comes." She laid her head upon his chest, her hand caressing his arm. "That was wonderful for me, you know."

"It was wonderful for me too."

A moment of silence passed between then Shanice muttered: "Eric, what am I doing here?"

"You're here with me in my apartment, and I've just made love to a very beautiful woman."

"I know, but I mean really, what am I doing here? Aren't we moving a little fast?"

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

She raised her head to look at him. "I mean, we've only just met. You know so little about me as I do of you."

"What much could I possibly want to know about you besides the fact that you're beautiful and I'm so lucky to have met you?"

She smiled. "That's so sweet, but I don't know much about you. I don't know if this is going to turn out to be something or end up being so stupid one-night stand."

Eric paused to think for a moment, then said: "Pick a romance movie."

"What?"

"I mean your favourite romance movie. The one movie that gets you gushing with tears anytime you watch it. Which is it?"

Shanice pondered the question for a moment, and then answered: "Waiting to Exhale. Have you seen it?"

"No."

"Too bad, you'd love it. How about you?"

"Love Story."

"I've always wanted to see that movie but never found the time. So why did you ask me that?"

"Sometimes even the unlikeliest of things is strong enough to make two become one. Call it Fate, if you like, or call it Destiny, I don't really know. I don't know what lead me to that table when I sat across from you. I doubt if it was in my mind that you'd be there either. We're just two lost stars finding ourselves across the sky I guess."

Shanice laughed amusingly. "Where did you get that line, from Romeo and Juliet?"

He shared her laughter. "Actually I made it up."

"Look, Eric, I like you. I mean it, I really do. You've been a terrific company to me. But I just broke up from a relationship ... and I don't know if I ought to be rushing into another. Besides, I don't know if your white friends might be happy seeing a girl like me around you."

"I don't have many friends. Right now you're the second best friend I have, and I don't care what anyone things. I want to be with you. I want to laugh with you. Is that too much a thing to ask?"

Her brown eyes searched his blue. She found nothing in them that spoke otherwise.

"No, it's not much to ask."

She inched forward and kissed him. 

When Shanice woke up it was long past morning. Sunlight streamed through the room windows and from outside came the familiar sound of city traffic. She turned her head to Eric's side of the bed and felt sad seeing that his side was empty. Though he'd left a note for her resting on the top of his pillow. She picked it up and smiled as she read what he'd left her:

""Sorry I had to get up early for work

Would have loved to watch you come awake

-- Eric.""

She got up from bed and went into the bathroom to shower.

Half an hour later she was halfway up the stairs to her apartment's door when her phone started ringing. It was her friend Michelle.

"Hello," she said as she unlocked her door and stepped inside.

"Girlfriend, where on earth have you been?" her friend's voice rushed like a bullet train into her eardrum. "I've been calling up your number the entire yesterday but it kept taking me into your voicemail. I came by your pad but you weren't around. Neither your neighbours said they'd seen you. What's up?"

"It's alright Michelle, stop worrying. I was with a friend."

"Someone I know?"

"No actually it's someone you don't know. Look, I'll meet you at the park at the usual time today and then I'll tell you about it, okay?"

"Alright, you know where to find me. See you."

"Yeah, see you too."

She never felt so happy ending their conversation.

Plainview Park was less than three blocks from Shanice's apartment building. She knew already that Michelle will be there with her three-year old girl Monique at the kiddies' playground section by twelve, but opted to get there a little past the hour. She strolled past a group of youths playing hoops in a makeshift basketball court along the park. It was this same place where she'd first hooked up with Chris. She did a quick scan of their faces and was glad to see he wasn't amongst them. A few of them threw glances her way but she ignored their stare and kept on her way.

Michelle was seated at a park bench watching her little girl have fun on a swing when Shanice approached her from behind. 

"Hey girl," Michelle said, getting up to embrace her. "I thought you almost weren't going to show."

"I'm sorry. I stayed up all night and only got back to my place this morning," Shanice said as she shared the bench with her. "Monique's getting bigger."

"Yeah. If she keeps on like this, she's going to be lifting me off the ground." Michelle's eyes sparkled with unabashed love as they watched her daughter rolling back and forth on the swing. Monique was her pride and joy, and she'd give her right arm just to keep her away from harm.

"Heard from Lincoln since?" Shanice inquired mildly. 

Upon the mention of the name, a dark shade seemed to fall over Michelle's face. Shanice noticed it too and would have taken back the question except her friend waved her not to.

"No, I ain't heard from that asshole," Michelle answered. "Bastard is either dead or in jail. Just like the rest of them ingrates he used to roll with around here."

Shanice offered her a comforting arm. "Don't worry, he'll turn up."

"Will he?" Michelle turned to look at her, the dark look turning grim with anger. "Tell me Sha, what kind of man would wake up one morning and leave a note saying 'I'll be back soon' and then disappears off into the night without a single bother to call to ask how his little girl is faring. Tell me what kind of man does such a thing?"

"A stupid one."

"That's what I thought." Her eyes returned to her daughter, and gradually the dark cloud melted off her brow with a sigh. "Monique keeps asking me when her daddy's going to come home, and I keep lying to her. God knows I hate myself for doing it, but what other choice do I have. I've barely got enough time on my hands to do anything else than look after her. One minute he's in bed with me, and then come morning, all I'm left with is a stupid note."

Shanice felt sad indulging in her friend's love life ... especially when it concerned Lincoln.

"I don't know, Sha. Sometimes I just wish things were different, you know."

"Yeah, but how different."

"Well, for starters, I wish I'd never hooked up with that sonofabitch." She looked at her friend with a smile. "Just as you probably wished you never ended up with Chris."

Shanice laughed. "You've got that right."

"So, you going to tell me where you were and who you were with yesterday, or do I have to beg?"

Shanice then let her in on Eric. Michelle listened to her at the same time kept watch over her daughter and waited till she was done before she said anything.

"You crashed at his place?" she eventually asked.

"Yes, didn't I just mention that?"

"You did, I just wanted to hear it one more time." She fell silent for a moment, then inched closer to her friend conspiratorially. "Did you hit it?"

"Come on, girl. Why did you have to go there?"

"I just had to know. You said he's white, didn't you? Just how white are we talking about?"

"What do you mean 'just how white'? How white do you want me to say he is?"

Michelle shrugged. "I dunno. A lot of white boys out there these days that look more black than Shaquille O' Neil. Brad Pitt looks black."

Shanice burst into laughter. "What? Since when did Brad Pitt even look anything close to black?"

"I don't care -- he's fucking cute. Hell, if I ran into him, I'd snatch his dick out his pants faster than that white tramp he's got for a wife can squeeze a tit."

Shanice almost felt like bursting a gut right there and then. "Mich ... please don't try to kill me this early."

"Alright, my bad. So tell me, how white is he?"

"He's white as white can be ... but he's really nice. You'd like him if you meet him."

"Hopefully I will. So what's bugging you about him?"

Shanice looked up sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Come on girl, I know when something's bugging you and when something ain't. You're not thinking about getting back with Chris, are you?"

"Hell no. That's a done chapter of my life -- the last time I ever decide to play around with assholes. It's just ... I don't know ... I'm kind of unsettled about Eric."

"What you mean?"

"You know what I mean. Black girl and white boy -- that's not usually something you hear every day. If it's the other way around, well ... that would feel a bit alright."

"You mean if he was oil and you were sugar?"

"Something like that, yes."

"Maybe it would have been. But since it ain't like that then I guess you've got to settle with what you have, sister."

"I'm just afraid ... thinking maybe it's all for nothing."

"One step at a time, girlfriend. Take it from me -- one step at a time."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 03



Shanice waited tables at a Deli over on Charlton Street. The work was menial and the money and tips were modest enough till whenever she figured something better came along. She said goodbye to her friend and her daughter when it was a half hour towards noon and took off the Deli. She arrived with ten minutes to spare and went round the back to change into her work clothes before returning to attend to the costumers. 

Almost an hour later, just when the place was getting filled with rush hour commuters, she was returning with someone's order when she saw a face seated at a table that immediately brought a dark cloud to her features. He too had seen her and offered her a smile as she approached him. He wasn't alone. His typical three-man crew hoods were with him, all of whom also had their eyes upon her.

She was about walking past him to deliver the meal she had when he caught her arm, holding her back; she looked at him as one would look at a something they wish would up and vanish before their sight. 

"What're you doing here, Chris?" 

He gave her a lopsided grin, something she once used to melt for but not anymore. "Just thought I'd stop by to see how my baby-girl's doing. You're looking so fly every day, girl."

"I ain't your girl, Chris. And I would appreciate it if you stop coming here looking for me."

"What? Ain't nothing wrong with me stopping by to see my lady, is there?"

"You and I have got nothing more to talk about anymore."

Chris made a sad face. "Aww ... come on, girl. What do I have to do to make you forgive me for what I done said to you then?"

"Nothing, okay. Nothing except stay the fuck away from me. Now let me go of my arm."

She pulled her grip from his arm and went on to deliver the meal to whom it was meant for. She didn't bother looking at him as she went on with her work while he and his goons kept their eyes glued to her. Her boss, observed what had occurred from behind the counter and signalled her over.

"You know those group of boys, Shanice?"

She nodded and said she did.

"They come to give you any trouble? You know you can tell me if that's what they're after."

"No sir, no trouble at all." 

She went on with her work. She was barely aware of when Chris and his gang got up from their table and left. 

Her phone rang a while later and she asked one of the other girls to stay in for her while she rushed out back to answer the call. She recognised the number that was calling her -- once again a smile that had formerly left her face when she saw Chris returned to her lips.

"Hi there, white boy," she said into her phone.

"My Goodness, don't tell me that's what you've reduced me to," Eric's voice spoke into her ear. "Surely you can think of something nicer than that."

"Sorry, I can't think of any for now."

"And you think I'm going to just lie low while you start calling me names. You're in for a belt flogging when next I see you, young lady."

"Oh really? And whatever gave you the idea I'd want to spend another hour with you?"

"Simple: you're too in love with me not to want to see me again."

Shanice laughed. "Keep dreaming, white boy. Just keep dreaming."

"Alright then, at least allow me the benefit of taking you out for dinner tonight."

"What type of dinner -- lunch fries and a pizza takeaway?"

From the other end, Eric burst into laughter. "I wish. No, I'm talking about a real dinner date. Something I should have taken you out to rather than to see a movie."

"You know you're taking up much of my thoughts."

"Really? And I thought it was just me."

A dimple glowed on her cheek. "No, I too have been thinking much about you. I keep thinking about last night."

"Same here. I can't seem to get the smell of you off my thoughts. I ought to turn you into a bathing soap and have you clean me up every day."

"Get outta town!" she laughed.

"Now I'm being serious you're the one who doesn't want to believe me."

"I'll believe you when next I see you."

"Your place at seven tonight. I'll be there and we'll have dinner. You game?"

"You bring your ass over at seven, white boy, and then we'll see."

Chris was waiting for her outside her apartment building when she returned home around past five. This time he was alone, and he had a scowl on his face as she watched her step out of her taxi. Shanice was still basking in her upcoming date with Eric and really wasn't in the mood for unleashing any tantrum, especially one that comes with a nasty headache like Chris. She came to a halt before him, sighed.

"What do you want with me, Chris?"

"The fuck you mean what do you want? What do you think I could possibly want from you, Shanice? What do you got to treat me so mean, disrespecting me even in front of my boys?"

"Well if it hurts you so much, the least you can do is take a chill pill and remember what you called me the other day over on the phone."

"Look babe, I done told you how sorry I was about that, and really I am --"

"No, you're sorry, Chris. But I'm not. My mother never raised no hoe or cheating bitch in her house, and I'm not going to sit and take your stupid antics any more than I should. I'm moving on, Chris. I suggest you do the same."

She tried to walk past him but he held her. "Look, look, hold up, Shanice. Where's all this anger coming from? I ought to know me by now. Fine, I do act kind of stupid sometimes, especially when it's about you, but babe, that's just part of the love I've got for you. I act crazy sometimes, but that's 'cause I've got deep feelings for you, and I don't want to see anything bad come to you, you know what I mean. Why can't we just look past what's happened and move on with what we have?"

"That's just it, Chris," she said. "I can't, not anymore."

Chris turned angry at this. "Oh so now what -- you're going to up and dump me just like that? Is that what you're trying to tell me here, Shanice -- that I time with you is done, and you're going to be all by yourself now? Or have you got some other guy on the side?"

She looked at him. She didn't want to dare herself in saying what she would only regret afterwards.

"I want you to look me in the eye Shanice, and tell me right here right now. You really got somebody else on the side?"

"Goodbye, Chris," she said to him with a flat voice and then walked past him up the stairs into her apartment building.

There came a knock at her door. Shanice was just done applying a final pencil to her eyebrow and paused to check the result of her features in the mirror before heading out of her room to go and answer the door. She held her breath as her fingers worked on the lock and only released it when she opened her door and found Eric standing there and not Chris, whom she'd been afraid was planning to make her another visit.

Eric appeared casual in a jacket and open shirt with his hands folded behind his back and a smile on his face.

"Hi there beautiful," he said to her.

"Well, hi there white boy," she returned his smile. "You're right on time."

"I'm glad about that. Are we good to go?" 

"Oh yeah, just about." 

Shanice wore a dark purple dress that very much complemented her figure; Eric couldn't help soaking up the sight of her, seeing how different she looked now from the former night. She'd locked her apartment door and was about draping a scarf over her shoulder when Eric stopped her.

"No, let me get that." He came from behind, taking the scarf from her hand and acted like a gentleman and draped the scarf over her shoulder, at the same time presented her with what he had hidden in his hands when he appeared at her doorstep -- a white Rose.

"Oh Eric, you shouldn't have."

"I know, I just couldn't resist. It's just a little something to mark your beauty."

She was immensely touched. A warm glow light up her cheeks as he slipped the flower into her hand. She couldn't resist kissing him. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Thank you for being beautiful." He gave her another kiss and then led her out of her apartment building to his car that was waiting for them downstairs. He opened her side of the car door for her to step into become coming round to his side.

"I never knew you had a ride."

"I did, just don't enjoy taking her out much of the time."

"So where are you taking me to?" 

"Someplace cool and classy and by the sea. You'll love it." 

He started his car and drove into the evening traffic.

More than an hour later, while Shanice and Eric were having fun with their evening, Michelle was in her own apartment's kitchen having a late night coffee. Her daughter had gone to bed less than a couple of minutes ago; she'd just left her room after reading her a bedtime story. Michelle sat there in the comfort and quietude of her apartment, thinking, listening to the silence, and thinking. Thoughts too random to be called anything else flirted around her head. She couldn't put a pin to them, though she thought she caught a hazy portrait of what they were waving before her.

Lincoln.

It's been four months since she'd been with him. One morning he'd woken up and disappeared from her bed and sight. Except for a lone letter he'd left for her, explaining how he needed to get some things taken care of, she hadn't heard no word, not even gotten a phone call from him. But what was most hard on her was that she kept telling herself that she was done with him. She held unto this belief in her heart that he was never going to return to her anymore ... and still she was even more afraid admitting that to herself.

Lincoln had been a lot of things to her. He'd been her best friend -- whenever Shanice wasn't around -- her husband to her daughter (even though they were miles away from thinking about getting married, though it wasn't like she'd given up entirely on it), but most important, he'd been her rock ... though that had been tempered down when he developed himself a drinking problem. She many times she'd tried to help him, and each time he pushed himself further and further away from her. She realised that the moment was fast approaching when she'd either have to keep waiting on him showing up or moving on without him. It was going to be hard for Monique to come to terms with that ... but all things will heal. In time she knew they would.

Done with her coffee, she washed her mug in the sink and left it off dry and then turned off the light. Her next destination was her bedroom. There came a knock on her door. Wondering who it could, she asked first who it was. Getting no answer, she cautiously unlocked her door and pushed it open. There was no one standing there ... except for a plain envelope lying on the floor by her feet. The corridor was empty. She picked the envelope up and locked back her door.

There was only her name written on the envelope's back, and the sight of it brought a sense of déjà-vu to her eyes. The handwriting ... something familiar about it, she thought. Her hand ripped through the envelope and out fell a plain sheet of paper with this written on it:

""You're still looking lovely.

Alleyways, tomorrow at twelve

I will wait for you.

- Lincoln.""

She could immediately feel her heart beating fast. She reached out and pressed her palm against the wall, thinking she was seeing things; thinking that she was dreaming. Her eyes read the words over and over again, and then she realised it was no dream.

"Oh my God," she muttered to herself. "Lincoln."

Dinner over, they decide to go for a walk. They drove down to their pier; Eric parked his car close to the pier where they'd walked their first date and stood looking out at the harbour. He couldn't stop admiring the way the cool wind ruffled her dress, letting her scarf flutter behind her neck till eventually she had to take it off. Eric offered her his jacket to keep from the cold; they stood beside each other silent for a moment, each contemplating what to say next.

Eric decided to break the silence. "You looked absolutely beautiful tonight."

She looked at him. "You've said that more than fifty times already." 

"I'll keep saying it for another fifty if it's possible."

She had something on her mind. Eric could sense she was struggling with her words and opted not to hurry her about it. 

"Tell me something, Eric. Do you really want to be with me?"

"I thought I'd answered that question already."

"I need to hear you say it."

He turned to face her, taking her hand in his. "Well then hear me now as I say this: I really, really want to be with you, Shanice."

She was silent for a moment, soaking in his words, and then: "You know prior to when I met you, I was going out with someone. His name is Chris. I'd broken up with him that night you and I met."

"He cheat on you?"

She shook her head. "I can't really say if he'd done that before. No, he just ... let's just say he's the sort who refused to grow up. The funny thing is, if he were cheating on me, I think I could have handled that. What I can't handle is someone lying to me, especially about something they ought not lie to me about. So Eric, now that I'm here, are there any lies or secrets in your closet I ought to know about? If there is then please jus tell me right now, whatever it is. If you've got some woman on the side ... now's the time to come clean about it."

Her eyes bore into his. She searched for the lie he might be hiding behind his pupils at the same time searched for the truth. Her heart beat fast against her chest nervously.

Eric raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. "You're all I want, Shanice. I don't have anything aside from you."

"Is that the truth?"

"It is."

She felt her heart release a sigh as she came forward and rested her head on his chest. "I can't help myself from wanting to love you, Eric."

He touched her cheek and raised her head. Their lips met in a kiss, sensuous and loving. The kiss seemed to mould them into one being. Into one heart beating in two separate bodies.

"Want to go back to my place?" he asked her.

"I can't. I've got an early shift tomorrow at work. I can swing by your place later in the day though. I'll bring some pizza along."

"Sounds lovely. Bring a movie too."

"I thought that was on you."

"Alright, it's on me."

He wrapped an arm around her and together they walked back to the car. She rested her head on his shoulder even as he drove her back to her home. He arrived in front of her apartment building ten minutes later. She pulled his head towards her and gave him a lengthier kiss. 

"I'm so reluctant to let you go tonight," she muttered.

"Same with me. But we have the rest of tomorrow to look forward to. I can't wait to see you then."

"I can't too. Goodnight, darling." She gave him a final kiss before stepping out of his car. 

Eric waved at her as she climbed up the stairs of her apartment building; she too waved back before stepping inside. Neither of them was aware of the figure of a man hiding behind a tree across the street from them, watching everything that transpired between them. 

Chris stood there seething with rage as he watched Shanice disappear inside her building and watched as the guy whom she'd been out with drive off. He'd stopped by her place a while ago, still with the intention of apologising to her and wanting her to take her back but had met her door locked. He'd strolled down the block to kill time with one of his guys, figuring that by the time he returned she would be back. Now he knew why she'd been acting all heated up with him since -- she'd gone and gotten herself a white boy to be with. He raised his jacket's hood to his face and walked away, smiling to himself now he knew what she was about. Women, he thought sourly to himself, nothing's ever too good for them.



Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 04



Shanice had butterflies dancing in the pit of her stomach right as she got up the stairs of her apartment building and even after entering her apartment as she undressed herself and then went into the bathroom to wash the remains of the evening from her skin. She rested her head on the shower stall, feeling her hand over her erect nipples and wishing Eric was here to make her feel good. Her thumb and forefinger played with her tits while one hand went between her legs to massage her pussy and within moments she was murmuring soft moans of desire. Her middle finger slid into the warmth of her pussy, turning her moans into a yearning sigh. How she wished she hadn't let go of him when she climbed down from his car. He ought to be here with me right now, taking care of me, she thought to herself. 

Done with her bath, into her bedroom she went and still the mass of butterflies won't quit their flutter. The night was a never-ending sight as she rolled from one end of the bed to the other. Each time she turned to glance at the opposite side of her bed she saw him lying with his head on her spare pillow, smiling that boyish smile of his at her. Twice she murmured his name in her dreams. Her feet curled in a foetal mode and her hand kept on troubling her pussy, bringing her to slow, screeching orgasm. Her eyes went to her cell phone and she couldn't tell why she resisted the temptation of calling him. Even if she cajoled him to come round and be with her and he refused, just the mere thought of hearing his voice, and him saying something that would make her laugh¬—him being the ointment to her soul¬—or at least say something sweet that would knock her off to dreamland. 

He was everything she'd ever wanted in a man; all that she'd always dreamed of finding. Her eyes can still vividly imagine the bold outlines of his face: the tranquil blueness of his eyes—how those eyes seem to look into the very depth of her brown skin, and how she feels lost every time she gazes into his eyes like someone lost in an ocean current—the solid gentleness of his words and voice; there is the caress of his hand when they touch, the spark of electric it made her feel when they first kissed ... Though who would have thought he would be far from what she'd always desired. That she would ever end up dating a white boy was seldom a thing she'd ever given herself time to ponder on. It felt so much like she was still locked in a dream—an Alice lost in the deep woods of Wonderland—she wondered if she would ever make it out of the maze. Would her Prince Charming ever remain true or would it all turn out to be nothing but a dream?

That last thought made Shanice open her eyes and sit upright, her hand fumbling for her bedside table lamp's switch and then finally finding it and depressing the button, bringing light to her bedside. There was a trembling in her heart, and her eyes gazed either way of her bedroom as if she'd felt the presence of a ghost lurking about. She realized then that she was breathing heavily. She decided then that she couldn't hold the urge back any longer—she picked her phone and dialled Eric's number. It rang a couple of times unanswered and she was almost about to give up when the line got picked up.¬ 

"Hi there, pumpkin," came his familiar voice, although it sounded king of groggy like he'd been asleep before she called. Hearing the sound of that voice was like being rescued from drowning.

"I know it's rather late," she said. "I'm sorry for calling so late—"

"As long as it's you calling, there's nothing to be sorry about. How're you doing?"

"I'm doing alright. Was trying to sleep, but I kept having this crazy nightmare and it just wouldn't let me be."

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"It's okay. The nightmare's gone right now anyway."

"Was I of any help getting rid of it?"

She smiled to herself. "Hearing your voice was all I needed to drive it away. Why else do you think I called you at this hour?"

"I suspect you didn't just call to hear my voice because of a silly nightmare, so why do you confess."

"Confess to what?" she feigned surprise.

"Confess why you really decided to call me up at," he paused for a moment, and then: "at one-forty in the morning. You could have waited till morning to hear my voice."

"Didn't you hear what I said—I had a nightmare."

"Shanice, I know you. Or at least I know a little bit about you that there's more to your calling. Now are you going to come clean, or not?"

"Okay, okay," she grinned at the phone. "I was thinking about you. I wanted to tell you of how much I miss you and that I wished you were here in bed with me. You happy now?"

"Yes, very much happy," he muttered. "You could have said that earlier. It would have made things a lot easier."

"I know, and right now I wish I did. But is it too late?"

At the other end, Eric was silent for a moment. Shanice was about to call out his name to know if he was still there when he returned to the line. "It's never too late. I can still make it to your door, although I'm going to have to come by with my work clothes. Hope you wouldn't mind?"

"Just as long as you're here, I don't care."

"Alright then. Just let me go wash up my face and gather my stuff. I'll be there within the next hour."

"Make it thirty," she said before hanging up.

Eric didn't make it to her place in thirty but thirty-seven, which was far from being an hour. Shanice was groaning like an animal since the moment she dropped down her phone and began playing with herself while wishing for her lover to hurrying up and come be in her arms. She'd buzzed him upstairs when he arrived and appeared at her front door holding his clothes and a pair of shoes along with a little kit bag in his hands. She'd pulled him inside, slammed the door closed and let everything he had in his hands clatter to the floor while she jumped on him and began smothering his lips with kisses. Eric nearly lost his footing and had to rest himself against the door frame so as to obtain a fighting chance of getting back at her; their hands groped and cuddled each other's limb while they wrestled with their lips and flesh. This wasn't the Shanice he'd had dinner with hours ago. No, there was no way this could be her. He told himself that he was currently in the lair of a lioness, a rather hungry lioness, whose intention was to devour him with love and sex ...

And he loved it.

"What took you so long?" she muttered the question even as her lips were all over his face.

"Sorry. Needed to find a good toothbrush," he replied humorously.

They sauntered into the bedroom. Her hands practically ripped his shirt apart while her nightgown went sailing from her head; she slobbered her tongue across his chest, loving the taste of his scent. One of her legs encircled his thigh even as he held unto her and then dumped her on her bed. She pulled him along, not wishing to let go of him even for a second. They rolled over each other on the bed. Her hair fell over her face and she wiggled her lower body against him. His erection pressed against his pants and she took a short break to free his burden into the open, taking his erect cock out and popping it into her mouth. Eric fell his head on her pillow and muttered a loud gasp. There were the sound of Shanice's lips smacking against his erection, followed by her mouth swallowing as much of him as she could. She took in his pre-cum and just about everything else he could afford to offer her as he was at that moment a sacrificial lamb to her altar. The reign of butterflies was back in her stomach, except this time they were floating all around her. This wasn't a dream, she told herself. This was all real—the feel of her lover's body lying on her bed, the musky taste of his turgid cock right now in her mouth, the sound of his moans, and then there's the presence of his hands caressing her hair, pressing her face down to his pubic zone ... this was so very real, and not something in a dream. He was here in her bedroom with her right now, and she was at this moment making genuine love to him. This wasn't their first lovemaking, she knew, but the event seemed rather epoch-making, like the strange sight of the first creature of Dinosaurs on the world. She didn't want this moment to end, thus she kept on sucking him even as he pleaded for her to stop. And then he announced he was about cumming, and still her mouth remained tightly wound around his shaft. She produced throaty moans in her mouth, though they seemed to be coming from a distant part of her. Her other hand stroked his shaft, drawing him towards the precipice. Eric's hands held her head down as his body tensed up and then he cried out a he shot his load like a rocket into the deepest regions of her throat. His semen slammed into the back of her mouth with the force of streaming water, and Shanice gave an involuntary grunt as instinctively her mouth gulped his cum down her throat and then did the same with the continuous spurts he released. Her mouth still held his cock in its warm grip, and it wasn't until she felt him growing weak that she then let him go and slid up the bed to embrace her lover.

"You devilish woman, you," he cooed just as she kissed him. The kiss was long and passionate.

"I hope I wasn't too exciting for you," she said.

"Why don't you look closer, you'll notice you gave me a heart attack back there."

She laughed.

Eric turned her over on the bed—now was his turn to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

Her legs he pushed over her head while his lips searched out the sweet nectar of her sex all within the darkness of her bedroom. He didn't require a road map to find it—there was no X marking the spot—but there it was when he flicked out his tongue and she hissed when it connected with her clitoris. He gave her clit a couple more flicks before turning into a dive-bomber and planting his mouth on her gushing juiciness. His lips pursed together and nibbled on the outward jutting flesh that surrounded her labia before resuming to lick her juice. Shanice squirmed and whimpered like one who was at the throes of death. Gladly it would have been for death to arrive at that moment to lay claim to her, except in the deep recesses of passion she knew this was ten times—a megaton times—greater than dying. This was being alive, a rebirth the likes she wishes she could partake in over and over again. 

Her hands grasped and caressed her lover's face. She muttered incoherent words to him; her body shook and jived to his beckoning tongue till like an exploding rocket she too arrived at her own moment of climax. 

"Ohhhhh my God!!" she sighed while at the same time panting for breath. "Ohh God, Eric, you're just so wonderful!"

"Don't go thanking me yet, darling," he said to her as he then came up with his erection once more returned to its erstwhile stiffness and introduced it into her vagina. She was already well lubricated from the touch of his tongue, thus his cock slid into her with little effort to slow his down. Shanice raised her head halfway from the bed, grasped her lover's arms, and uttered a sharp cry of delight with it happened. She ground herself beneath him, gave him free reign to take charge of her body and soul as together they began riding the waves of spurious love like two lovers sharing a wild stallion on a lonely verdant land. 

"Oh my darling," she murmured breathlessly. "Oh love me ... make love to me ... don't you dare stop."

"I won't," he gasped fervently. "I swear, I won't."

Their bodies clashed in the night of her bedroom. Their fucking achieved rhythm just as their breathing became nearly as one while their arms pressed their torso against each other. They were joined to the limb as only one might picture a pair of Siamese twins: their sweat moulded into a stream, and the stream became a meandering river in search of an ocean. Eric's hands delved down between her backside and the bed sheets to cup the roundness of her ass as he then pulled himself up, taking her along with him, and then falling on his backside. His erection slipped out of her, but Shanice immediately reached for his shaft and returned it back into her warmth. She sat up on him, grinding her ass back and forth over his waist, letting free the doors of her kingdom to his enveloping exploration. She was at this moment more than a mere woman. She was Cleopatra. She was SHE, and he was her Caesar and Mark Antony rolled into one. 

"I want to love you always, darling," she breathed as she leaned towards his face. 

"I too want you just as much," he replied.

The bed groaned and shook from their screwing—it was the inevitable prisoner to their passion. Eric pulled Shanice towards him, wrapped his lips on one of her breasts at the same time steeled himself for the moment that was about to happen. Shanice felt it too—the rising tide of a super nova explosion and she muttered a sharp cry when their star exploded as one. For a moment neither of them was able to move. She wrapped her legs around her lover's waist while Eric gasped unto her chest with his arms still pressing her body tight to his. This moment was spectacular. This was indelibly how it was when God set forth his Creation, and they both wanted to savour the moment and hope it would remain entrenched in their hearts.

They fell gently back to the bed still with their arms wrapped around each other. Their lips acted as their search light, their tongues roamed and flicked against each other's skin like drawn swords even though neither of them wished to draw blood. Shanice felt the throb of his cock still inside of her, distilling more and more of his seed into her womb. How she would wish right this minute to bear his child. Her parents would huff and fret if ever they heard of her letting a white boy do this to her, but she didn't care, she couldn't care. She had gone past caring. She cared not if he was black, or that he was from Mars—he was hers to keep, just as she too was his.

"I'm yours," she whispered into his ear before sleep took her away.

Her eyes came awake to streaming sunlight coming from her window. The memory of the previous night flooded her thoughts as she gradually came to full wakefulness though she became momentarily frightened when she discovered she was the only one on her bed—it couldn't all have been a dream now could it, she thought startled.

Then her nose picked up the smell of coffee and bacons wafting from the kitchen. Her feet came off the bed and she picked up her bathrobe and wore it on before rushing towards the kitchen just as a shadow was about stepping out of the kitchen doorway. Eric held a tray in his hands and he was whistling a tune which quickly died in his lips when he looked up in time to see Shanice approaching him. They nearly collided into each other had she not seen him first and forced her legs to step on the soles of her brakes. 

"Wow there!" Eric too brought him himself to a stop, though it didn't stop Shanice from slightly bumping into the tray but not spilling off anything. "I thought you'd still be asleep?"

"I woke up and thought you had gone," she said rather sheepishly.

"Nonsense girl," Eric gave her a kiss. "I couldn't leave without fixing you some breakfast. I've got you some cornflakes and bacons, though I hope you like you eggs scrambled."

He brought the tray with meal to the bed and Shanice sat before him, crossing her legs like a prim school girl and feeding her eyes on the little growth of hair that littered his chest. Eric picked up a fork and started feeding her bits of scrambled eggs and bacons. The cluster of butterflies were alive and fluttering once more in her stomach—was it love or mere desire, she asked herself. Her hand went to her crotch, getting a hint of wetness there that was starting to wake up the tiger in her once again.

"What time is it?" she asked while busy munching on a bagel.

Eric reached behind his back in search of his watch. "6:25 a.m., it says. I've got to get to hour by the next hour."

"So do I. What's the rest of your day going to be like?"

He took little time to run his mind through his events for the day. "Don't really have much. For all I know, it's going to be another dull and boring day at work for me." He forked some eggs into his mouth.

"I don't have to get too lonely for you, you know," Shanice murmured, running her hand along his thigh and stopping short of his boxer shorts. Her eyes caught sight of his little man becoming awake from her touch and it made her smile. "As long as you've got me, I doubt if your day's going to be anything but dull."

"Now that I get to think of it, I doubt that too." Their lips meet in a kiss. The kiss was tentative at first, but right after their lips touched, it opened up and then their tongues met. Eric pushed the tray away and pulled Shanice towards him. Her breasts pressed against his chest and his erection pressed against her crotch as their kiss deepened. Eventually they let go of each other and lay there cuddling in their embrace.

"Let's do it at my place this time," he said.

"I can take your clothes back there if you want."

"Yeah, that will be really nice. And maybe you can dress up as a Playboy bunny before I return."

She laughed. "Very funny. But you're going to have to leave me with your key."

"That's no problem—I've got two."

"Great. So, how soon do you really need to get to work?"

"Not as soon as I ought to." His hand cupped one of her breasts while their lips met again.

**********

I'm goin' to kill him!

The taxi came to a halt by the curb. The back door flew open and Michelle stepped out and began walking the half a block to her impending destination. This was silly, a tiny part of her mind muttered to her. The taxi could have dropped her in front of the Alleyways, but instead she'd prefer to walk this short distance just so to gather her emotions ... to prepare herself for what was going to happen when she lays her eyes on him. His chin bore a two-day' stubble of beard, and that only added to the dull look about him. Though aside from that, everything else about him looked just fine, at least to her eyes. 

Lincoln! 

Sonafabitch! Oh boy, I'm really goin' to kill him!

But was she really going to do that? And even if she was, how did she intend on doing it—take a fork and hope to cut open an artery in his neck? Tell the truth, wasn't she just as anxious to see him? After all these months he'd been out of sight? She was divided: a part of her wanted very much to know why he'd taken off and how he'd been living with himself all this time. She knew Lincoln, he could barely get along with being alone, not unless someone is there to hold his hand. Such a big baby he often can be. The other part of her simply wanted to strangle his ass. The nerve of him to slip a note through her doorway last night when he could have just knocked. Still she really was itching to see him. Why else would she be wearing her colourful silk scarf today, the one she knew he always liked whenever she put it on. Memories of when they'd made love in her bedroom and she'd worn nothing but this same scarf. Michelle felt blood evidently rush into her cheeks as she recalled this memory, bringing a sudden blush to her cheeks. Anyone watching her at that moment would have noticed her stop to pretend to wipe something off her eyes and never actually realise she's merely stop to allow the wave of memory depart from her thoughts. The memory brought the onset of tears to her eyes and she took out a handkerchief from her handbag to wipe her eyes before continuing with her walk.

The glass doors of the Alleyway deli loomed before her. She got up the short flight of stairs leading to it and then pushed it open. There were few faces in there that she recognised and she paused to say hello to the proprietor before moving further into the big room, craning her head in every direction. 




Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 04



A hand suddenly grabbed hers, startling her momentously. She turned to her left and gazed into the familiar eyes of her former lover, Lincoln. For a moment neither of them said anything to each other, though he continued smiling at her, it was obvious it was a facade. His unsteady eyes told her so¬—he was just as anxious at the same time scared to meet with me as I am with him, she mused to herself. There was as well a certain weariness about him, she noticed. It made him look as if he'd aged ten years more than his present. 

"Hi there Mich," he finally said to her. 

She dropped her handbag on the table and then sat across from him. "Long time no see, Lincoln."

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I figured you'd be searching everywhere for me once you came in, so I figured I'd surprise you like this."

"Same old Lincoln. You always know how to pull a leg when necessary. Whatever made you think I was going to come?"

"I took a risk with that note."

"You took more than a dumbass risk," she retorted. "How come you didn't knock?"

He gave her a knowing look. "I assumed the first thing you'd done once you found me standing there is go grab a knife to stab me with. I am correct, aren't I?"

"Very correct," she gave him a cruel smile. "And you want to know what else¬? I would have enjoyed it."

"You're breaking my heart to hear you talk like this, Mich."

"Go fuck yourself, Linc," she blurted, unable to hold back the anger, though she paused to glance about the deli, not wanting to arouse any costumer's ears, and then leaned across the table to say to him: "I could do more than just reach across this table right now and squeeze the fucking life out of you for all the heartache you've caused me and Monique, especially Monique. Except I promised myself I wasn't going to do that." She sat back and straightened herself. "You asked me to meet you here, so I suspect you've got a good reason for it."

"I do," he said solemnly. "I know I'm stupid, Mich. You don't have to tell me, I know. I caused you some pain when I left—"

"You caused me more than just pain, Linc. You cut my heart off."

"And you've got all the right in the world to hate me for leaving the way I did."

She gave a bitter laugh. "Oh would you just listen to the genius. And how long did it take for you to figure that out?"

"Less than enough time I spent at St. Nicholas five months ago."

Michelle gave him a serious look. "What happened at St. Nicholas?"

"I went in for a physical. I was terribly sick back then, you remember. I needed to find what was up, and boy, did I ever." He then looked at her with surprise. "You know it's funny, we've been having this talk and since we haven't even ordered anything." 

"I'm not hungry," she said. "Tell me, Linc, what took you to the hospital. What did the doctors say?"

"You don't want to know, Mich."

Her hand reached across the table and held his and spoke to him with a firm voice. "I've got daughter asking me just about every fucking day for her Daddy. Don't you start playing footsie with me, Lincoln. Tell me what is it?"

The weariness came to his eyes and he struggled for a moment to find his next words. "You and Monique are going to be better off without me, Mich. It's partly the reason why I needed to see you. I don't ... I don't think I'll be coming back home anymore. I'm dying."

The words seemed to be coming from far away, and yet if it wasn't that she was holding unto the table's edge she undoubtedly would have allowed the impact of it to fall her to the ground. Michelle sat there in stunned silence, her mind recalled what he'd just said to her.

I'm dying.

She felt Lincoln shake her hand, bringing her back. "Mich, are you alright?"

"Yeah ... yeah, I am. Whatever is it that's killing you, Linc?"

He took her hand and began writing on her palm as he spoke. His voice was so low she had to inch forward to hear him. "I've got the virus. It's what the doctor told me."

She was about to ask—what virus? Then she looked at her palm, at the feel of his finger tracing the words for her and then horror lit on her face as suddenly she knew. 

HIV/AIDS.

"Oh my God, Linc."

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know. It's why I ran away."

Michelle didn't fight back any longer. She pulled him towards her and hugged him. Tears gushed out of her eyes and stained the collar of his jacket. "Oh Linc. Oh babe, I'm so sorry."

"So am I, Mich," he muttered. "So am I."

**********

Shanice got off early from work today. Though even if her reliever hadn't arrived early enough, she still had the good fortune to have brought her lover's clothes with her to work, folded inside a knapsack bag which she'd stowed away in her locker so as to take it straight down to his place without bothering to stop by home first to pick it up. The reason why she'd opted on this was upon her leaving her apartment in the morning only to run into Chris, her former boyfriend. He'd kept on pleading for her to take him back and still she'd given him the back of her palm and told him to shove off. It was a good thing he hadn't thought of following her to work, though that hadn't eased her mind into speculating he might be hanging around her doorstep, just waiting for her to return home. The stupid boy just wouldn't take no for an answer.

It was approaching six in the evening when the taxi deposited her in front of his apartment building. She knew he wouldn't be back from work yet—she had called him just before she left her place of work so as to let him know she was on her way there. He'd given her his spare key in the morning before he left, and she intended to cook him something special tonight.

Half a minute later she was standing in front of his door about to insert her key into the lock when she noticed that the door was already open. Shanice got immediately suspicious about that. Was there someone inside, or could he possibly have forgotten to lock up before coming by my place last night? Cautiously she pushed the door open and took a step inside his pad.

Everything was as it was the last time she was there; nothing appeared or seemed to be out of place or missing.

Just then a woman's voice called out from within: "Eric? Eric, is that you?"

Shanice let the knapsack bag drop from her shoulder, though she was still standing there in the middle of the living room when a woman came out of the bedroom and approached her. She was tall and slim, wearing a purple blouse and black slacks. Her hair was blonde and tied in a ponytail. Her face was angular, her eyes green and they instantly turned envious upon sighting Shanice. She was immediately branded an intruder by those pair of green eyes, and she could only wonder how come.

"Who're you?" the blonde woman asked with annoying bluntness.

"I'm Shanice. And who are you?"

She gave her a cynical smile. "I'm Tara. I'm Eric's wife."

To Be Continued...



Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 05



It was nearing the hour of six when Eric left his office for the day and began hurrying to get home. Along the way he stopped first at a gift shop to pick a bottle of red wine, along with a dozen white roses. Then he stopped at a movie shop and bought the movie Australia, as Shanice had opened up to him of her love for Huge Jackman's movies. He thought of calling her along the way but then decided not to; might as well surprise her with what I've got in hand. He was totally burning with excitement of seeing her, even though it was less than twenty hours since that happened, it felt almost as if an entire day had gone past since early in the morning when he last held her in his hands. How reluctant he'd almost being leaving her place to come to work today. What had he been thinking? It's not like there'd been anything special waiting for him when he came to work; he might as well should have called in sick today and spend the entire morning with her. Though he would have begged her too to skip work for the day, and no doubt she would have agreed to that. They would have stayed in bed all through the morning, make love and then take a shower together ... and probably make love again and again. Just thinking of the warm texture of her body was enough to entice him to step down on the gas so as to get home to her quick.

The sun was gradually going away from the sky to make way for a new moon when he approached his building and then parked his car in an empty space. As he opened his door and began taking out the items he'd bought, he failed to notice the young black man standing across the street watching him. There was an animal look in the young man's eye, one that spoke more of the way in which a predator would view a prey it was soon intending to come after. 

Chris had paid a visit to Shanice's work place more than an hour ago, wanting to try and talk some more sense into her fish brain, but one of the ladies had told him she'd already left. He'd gone by her place and hadn't found her there either. A good thing she had taped a note to that bitchy friend of hers, Michelle, to her door, saying that she would be spending the rest of the day at Eric's place. Chris wasn't any certified genius, but it didn't take him much solving to know that Eric was the name of the white boy whom he'd seen her rolling around with the other night. He'd used the remainder of the hour trying to locate the white boy's place, and he'd arrived there a good ten minutes before Eric arrived in his car. Chris still remembered the look of his car from that other night and when he'd arrived here and hadn't seen his vehicle parked anywhere close to his building, he'd decided then to prudently hover around just to make sure he got the right address. And now wouldn't you know it—the white boy has finally arrived.

Chris was of two minds, whether to walk over right there and then to confront him, or to wait till after the fool had gone up. Though he figured from what he'd read on Shanice's note that she would probably be up in his apartment right now, waiting for his white boy ass to show. And it wouldn't be any good him confronting the guy out here in the street for all eyes to see him do it. Though it wasn't like he had any intention of fighting the guy, he merely wanted to tell him to lay his hands off his woman. Seeing that he had nothing better to do, he decided to hang back and sat at a park bench across the street and watched as Eric locked his car door, and then with his items in his hand, walked into his building.

Eric was smiling and feeling very happy as he took the stairs one landing at a time till he got to the floor where his apartment was at. He transferred the wine bottle, DVD cassette, and the bouquet of flowers to one arm while his other reached for the door handle. It came open in his hand, and his smile turned into a grin as he took a step into his living room.

"Babe, I'm back home!" he called out, as is feet kicked the door closed behind him.

"Ohh Eric, I'm so glad you're home! I've missed you terribly."

Eric got the shock of his life and the grin on his face instantly melted away as his eyes quickly recognized the owner of the voice he'd just heard. He stood there unable to move as the blond-haired woman wearing a purple blouse ran towards him smiling, and then hugged him. He didn't hug her back, although the look on his face was at that moment the opposite of what it was prior to when he walked into his apartment.

Tara pressed her face against Eric's chest, still hugging him. When she realized he wasn't returning her hug back, she pulled her face from his chest and looked up at him. "Oh come on, darling. Aren't you going to hug me back?"

Eric instead pushed her off him and dropped the things he was carrying on a couch before turning to face her with his arms akimbo, looking like someone who was ready for trouble, which he knew he was facing right now. "What're you doing here, Tara?" his voice was as cold as an ice cube.

"Why? Aren't you any glad to see me?" she continued smiling at him, though Eric didn't return the favor.

"The hell I am." 

"It's been a while, Eric. Almost a year now, I think. You never called and you never wrote to me, not even send me a text message. Really, that's no way for you to treat your own wife, you know."

"Ex, Tara," he corrected her. "You're my ex-wife, and don't you forget it. Our partnership ended a long time ago, if ever we had one to begin with." "I was always good to you, Eric."

"Please. You were a slut and a tramp, and for you I'll wager that none of that has changed."

"Never the less, it doesn't make us enemies," she pouted indifferently. "I always wished we'd remain in touch. But I don't know why in heaven's name you just kept avoiding me for no reason at all."

"And since when did you become the caring type?"

"Inconsequentially, I've always been caring, Eric. I've always cared about you. Why else would I be here in the first place?"

"I wouldn't know. Maybe you drove around the city and suddenly lost you way, or you're in town searching for a new boy toy to hold your handbag for you. I know that's what you're into."

She gave him a sad look. "That hits below the belt, Eric. Really I've been wanting to see you, and that I haven't heard from you in a long while has got me upset." 

He looked at her with feigned incredibility. "Have you lost your marbles, Tara? You forget that it was you who took out a restraining order on me, remember? Nothing less than a hundred feet was what the judge stated, if I remember correctly. All that bullshit you and your fancy big-shot lawyer did to keep me away from Gloria. And now you dare come all this to ask why I haven't kept in touch with you so that your lawyer can see fit to get my ass thrown in jail, ain't that right, you stuck-up bitch?"

"Do you need to call me foul name's now? Yes, I did take out the restraining order on you, but it was for you own good. For my peace of mind, at least, and for Gloria, too." 

"Is that why you're here?" he spoke harshly. "You came all the way here to find me just to come throw Gloria at my face? You took her away from me, remember? You and your high-life type of living."

"Don't go blaming me for the way things went, Eric. You want to fight me over that then you take it up with the court system. That's not the reason why I'm here anyway."

Eric shook his head like someone faced with an un-winnable predicament. "Alright, Tara. I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt for now. Tell me then, why are you here?"

She approached him. She wanted to rest her hands on his shoulders but Eric drew himself backwards as if she carried with her a contagious disease he didn't wish to have a part of. Tara sighed. She looked at him with longing, as one would look to a former lover who'd once brought light to her light and then suddenly left.

"Isn't it obvious why I'm here?"

He shook his head.

"My reason for being here is simple, Eric. I want you back in my life."

Eric looked at her dumbly. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me. Eric, look, I know things weren't anywhere close to being good between us. I still think about those final months we were together, when we fought over just about everything ... about Gloria. And I know we caused each other a whole lot of pain during those court times. I'm willing to forgive you for all of that—"

"What'd you just say?" Eric interrupted her.

"I said that I'm willing to forgive you for all the hurt you brought to me and Gloria and, as difficult as this may sound coming from me, I also wanted to say that I want you back."

"I don't believe a word of what you just said."

"I figured you wouldn't, but it's the truth. Look, I'm trying to turn a new leave here, Eric, and I'd like you along for it."

He felt like laughing, though he knew if he opened his mouth, nothing of such would come out. "You really are impossible, Tara. Really you are, and I'm not going start now to deign you the patience of putting that through your head. If you don't mind now, I've other important things to take care of besides being here wasting time with you." 

He went to pick up the bottle of wine and bouquet of flowers and was about walking past her when he stopped. "I don't know how you found your way in here, but I'm changing the locks once you leave. And I hope you can do that right about now. I'm expecting company, and I'd hate for you to be around."

Tara followed him behind as he went into the kitchen. She stood by the doorway and watched him lay the roses on the table then put the wine bottle into the fridge.

"Who's the lucky lady, Eric?"

"I'd love to tell you that, Tara, but it's none of your damn business. You don't see me asking you how many men you've screwed since we broke up, do you?"

She gave him a kinky smile. "You know you could always ask. I won't bite."

"I'm not in the mood to play any one of your games, Tara." He closed back the fridge and came towards the doorway, about to walk past her. "See yourself out my apartment before I come out, and consider yourself not welcome here."

"There's no need getting hostile on me—I've already met your so-called darling girl."

Eric was heading towards the direction of his bedroom, about to free his arms from his jacket, when Tara's words stopped him in his tracks. He turned around and looked at her suspiciously; Tara smiled inward as she saw that she'd gotten through to him.

"What're you talking about?" he asked her.

"I was already here in your apartment, waiting for you when your new lover came by. Pretty girl she is, black and tall. Funny, I never knew you were into black women before, Eric. Is that a new thing you're trying on—wanting to get yourself a taste of that black skin?"

"Is this your way of wanting me to get back at you?" he replied her snidely.

"Nope, just curious that's all. I've dated one or two black men, and I can tell you, it's really worth it, so kudos to you." She laughed, though Eric didn't share it.

"How did you even get into my apartment in the first place?"

"Simple. I met the caretaker and told him I was your wife, and that I was pregnant. It didn't take him long to let me in. I would have called you, except I don't have your new number. I just sat here waiting for you to show, except it was your woman, Shanice, who showed up."

Eric was struggling hard not to come and grab her by the shoulders. Instead he continued to keep his calm. "What did you say to her?"

She turned away from him and went to sit down on his couch. Eric sat across from her, watching her as one would watch a hawk. 

"Oh nothing serious really, just this and that ... though we did talk about you. We talked and talked, and talked ..."

**********

"Why don't you have a seat, Shanice. Would you care for something to drink?"

Tara left her and went into the kitchen to look inside the fridge, making as if she were familiar with the apartment, when actually she'd stepped into it less than a half hour ago. She remembered correctly that Eric was always a wine person, and she wasn't surprised to find a Johnny Walker lying between two ice packs. She took out the bottle along with two glasses and returned to the living room, happy to find her ex-husband's visitor still seated there waiting for her. Shanice accepted the glass of wine she gave to her; she was still stunned with what the lady had said to her a few minutes ago when she walked in through the door. 

I'm Tara. I'm Eric's wife.

Wife!

"Does it surprise you?"

She looked up from her glass, startled by Tara's question as if she'd just read her mind. 

"Actually, no ... but, yes, I guess I am," she said. "Eric never mentioned anything about ... about being married."

Tara pretended to seem vexed by this, though inwardly she was. To think that all this time Eric hadn't bothered trying to get in touch with her, he'd been wasting his hours with this hood chick from the Bronx. 

"I'm not surprised by that. We haven't been what you'd call 'a healthy couple'. Basically we've been fighting a lot, so we kind of opted to give each other some space," She lied. "So how long have you both been friends?"

"Being a while now."

Actually what she wanted to say—what she ought to have said—was none of your damn business. Except somehow Shanice figured that would have been wrong. No, not wrong. That would have felt unnecessary. Except being in such a situation she was hardly what she had expected. Eric, you bastard! How couldn't you tell me you're married? And what a sucker I've been to think you were different.

The woman was saying something to her though at that moment she barely heard anything else aside from her inner self. She as well noticed the mocking look in the woman's eyes and even before then, she knew she wasn't the friendly type. 

"Excuse me?" she turned to look at her.

"I said I'm not any bit surprised Eric would fall for someone like yourself," said Tara with a condescending tone. "You're really up his alley."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh no, nothing at all. Just making a compliment."

Shanice pulled herself to her feet. "Forgive me for saying this, but that's as lousy a compliment I've ever heard. And it seems I've overstayed my welcome. I'll see myself out, if you don't mind."

Tara got up as well, positioning her glass of wine before her lips. "Suit yourself, though I really was enjoying your company."

Shanice picked up her knapsack bag, not bothering to give her a reply; Tara felt bitten by this. Her intention was to cause some measure of hurt in the young girl's mind before she decided to leave, though that didn't seem to be working as she'd expected. She followed behind as Shanice made her way out the door.

"Is there anything you'd like me to tell him when he gets back?" Tara asked while pressing her face at the doorway.

"You've been more than helpful, thank you." Shanice said this over her shoulder, not bothering to glance back at her. She took quick steps and in no time she was racing down the stairs, fighting inward to hold back her tears.

**********

"...and so she left," Tara said in mock conclusion. 

Eric stood there in dismay, listening to all what she'd said. She wasn't lying, that was pretty obvious, and just speculating how Shanice would be regarding him right now was far more unsettling to his thoughts than listening to his ex narrate about how she'd welcomed her.

"How long ago was this?" he finally asked her.

"Not long enough. If you'd been here twenty, twenty-five minutes ago, you probably would have caught her going downstairs. It's a pity about the way she left; she never even bothered leaving a forwarding address to keep for you."

She was rubbing it in, wanting to dig deep into the core of his apparent wound. Eric knew this just as much as she did. In the past, he would have conceded to her, would have allowed himself to play humble to her manipulative persona. How often she had used that side of her to win him over time after time, making him look ridiculous in his attempts of formerly getting rid of her from his life. 

But not anymore, as he came forward and grabbed her arm and without warning propelled her towards the door. 

"The fuck are you doing, Eric? Take your hand off me!" she spat and tried to take her arm back, but Eric held on. "Don't you even dare hit me, Eric. Or my lawyer's going to be onto you like flies on an animal."

Eric laughed at her face. "Bitch, you think I'm going to waste my time running your make-up. That's your business. I want you out of my home and out of my life, and STAY OUT!"

He shoved her out his door, took her handbag and threw it out at her as well and then slammed his door close and turned the lock. Tara was banging at the other side, spouting curse words at him, but Eric pretended not to hear. By the time she'd cracked her nails, then she'd probably leave him in peace, he said to himself as he went towards his bedroom to wash up. Now he had to think about how to repair the damages with Shanice.

**********

There was nothing left for him to do, no other options to take into consideration, at least for now. But then why was his black ass still seated out here, on this bus stop bench, across from the building where the white boy lived, and doing nothing but wait? His stomach was gnawing at him. He ought to be stepping by now—long gone—back to his crib. He figured he could always handle meeting the white boy afterwards when he felt like it. Except that just didn't seem right to him. Nah, it wouldn't feel like him at all to leave something half undone and then come back later. Who know, later could always be too late. So he sat there, lowered his hood jacket over his head and kept on with his vigil while around him evening commuters and old folks went on their way and city buses kept on stopping to deliver and take in more people before stepping on the gas and moving along.

Still Chris continued to wait.

His waiting soon paid off when he looked up and saw the pretty-looking white woman storm out of the building. He had no idea whom she'd come to see, but just a quick assessment of what she had on and the way she looked, and he could tell she didn't belong in this part of the city. She certainly looked pissed the way she was fuming. He watched as she got into her ride—a low-top Mercedes—and then screeched out of the parking spot. Chris watched her drive away, still wondering who she was, and then his eyes fell to his wristwatch. He figured now would be a better time to pay the white boy a visit. Nothing serious, just a chat man-to-man, and a warning, and then he'd be out.

He pushed his hood off his head and hurried across the street.

Eric had just finished taking his bath and was putting on a fresh pair of jeans with his towel still hanging over his neck when he heard his apartment door bell ring. He chose to ignore it, figuring it could only be Tara, coming back for another episode. But when the ringing got to persistent, he groaned and decided to give her another fighting round just to drive his point home.

His hands turned back the key and pushed the door open. "What do you want, Ta—" he drew to a stop when he saw it wasn't his ex standing there observing him, but a young black hoodie. A moment's silence passed through them as the hoodie gave him a scowling look that could probably have melted butter.

"Excuse me, who're you?" Eric opted to break the ice.

The hoodie looked at him, surprised. "What? You don't know who I am, white boy?"

Eric had an instant disliking to who the fellow is, and were it not for that he was fighting to calm his nerves, what he really wanted to do the moment the hoodie uttered those words was slam the door back close and return to what he was earlier doing. Instead he opted to play the fool, at least for the time being.




Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 05



"I don't know who you are, and for the record, my name ain't 'white boy'. You got that, or do I need to make it clear enough?"

"Oh yeah I got that," Chris snorted. "And I'm surprised that you don't know me, even though I know you pretty well, Eric."

Eric looked at him sharply. Chris laughed derisively.

"Looks like now I've got your attention, don't I, white boy. You're the dude who's been messing around with my woman. That's what got me here to wanting to talk to you about."

This certainly did fire up Eric's attention, and it took him less time to recall Shanice narrating to him about her former man—Chris.

"What can I do for you, Chris?"

Chris smiled. "Oh, so you do know my name? I guess Shanice must have told you a lot, hasn't she?"

"Yes, she did. She as well told me that you and she are in the past."

"Well, she was wrong about that," said Chris. "She's wrong about a lot of things, and so are you, white boy, if you don't learn to keep to yourself."

"I'm going to ask you one last time before I slam my door on you, Chris. What do you want?"

"What I want," Chris emphasized the words, "is simple, white boy: stay the fuck away from Shanice. She's still my girl, and she's going to stay that way till I see fit to let her go." He wagged his finger at him. "I don't want to see you and her holding hands anymore."

"This some dick-measuring competition with you, Chris?"

"I ain't playing with your ass, white boy," Chris flashed his eyes at him. "This ain't no chump-talk I'm doing here. You keep your white boy hands off from my woman, and that's it."

Eric left the safety of his door and came and stood before it; the coldness in his eyes matched that of Chris. "And if I decide not to do that, what are you going to do about it?"

"Something you wouldn't like me to do, white boy. I see you and her talking again, I'm going to come round here, and next time I do, we ain't going to be so friendly as we are right now. You feel me, white boy?"

"Oh yeah, I feel you perfectly," he leaned his head towards him and said: "Black boy. I feel you just fine, knowing you're going to be watching. And next time you ever decide to come round my place and threaten me like this, you'd better come with an ambulance so they can haul your ass out here when I'm done breaking it."

Chris laughed. "Whatever. Just know this—I'll be watching your ass from now on."

"Oh, I can hardly wait. Now how about you getting the fuck out of my sight." He returned into his apartment and closed the door, turning back the lock.

"Punk motherfucker!" Chris fumed before taking his leave. The white boy wasn't worth his spite after all. 



Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 06



Lincoln was just as nervous returning home with her. He'd tried talking her out of it, saying it didn't feel right, but she would ear none of it. It brought a smile to his heart—she hadn't changed after these months of being away from her. She was just as strong a woman as when they'd first met. His hands both rested on his knee, and hers draped over his while they rocked beside each other in the backseat of the taxi cab, listening to the driver mutter as curse as the cab's wheels stepped into another pothole. His thoughts went towards Monique. He wondered if she'd still remember him—of course she's a little girl, but who knows what little ones are able to remember? He still possessed a snapshot of her in his wallet taken when she was but a baby. The look of total baby-wonder on her face had kept him warm as if he were lying beside a fire these past nights that he'd been alone. Would she still remember him for what he was to her even when he was long gone? The fear ... the gnawing fear beat against his heart, mixing with his blood flow, it was something he knew he couldn't avoid¬—the inevitable. How soon? The doctor had told him anywhere between a couple of months onto a year. 

Still, who knows.

Suddenly his mind came away from his reverie as Michelle tapped his hand. 

"We're there," she said.

He didn't know whether to feel glad or saddened by her words as the taxi drew to the curb and eased to a halt for both of them to climb out. Settling the fare, Michelle noticed the hesitant look on his face and reached for his hand and led him into the building and from there up the stairs to her apartment floor.

"Monique's at the St. Michael Day-care centre," Michelle said to him as she turned her key in the lock and led him into her home. "A neighbour's child of mine will be bringing her home in the next couple of minutes. You need me to get you something?"

"Some tea would do, thank you," he said to her.

She took off her scarf and dropped her handbag on the centre table and together they went into the kitchen. He sat by the table while she heated some water on the stove and in no time had two tea cups ready. A few minutes later they were seated across from each other sipping their individual tea in silence. The silence was an awkward one, and Michelle sighed with relief when he broke it.

"You haven't done much redecorating," said Lincoln, casting his eyes around. "You always talked about giving the place a fresh coat of paint."

"I was thinking about doing just that. Don't know how come I never got the chance."

"You know you never quite liked this neighbourhood. I always figured you'd have moved out by now."

"Why the hell should I? The rent's cheap, even though the landlady's still a snotty old bitch."

Lincoln nearly sputtered out his tea as he tried to fight back his laughter but was unable to. Michelle laughed with him while she got up and picked up a cloth to wipe his tea off his shirt and from the table's surface. The laughter though didn't last long before they resumed their foreboding silence. She reached her hand across to touch his.

"Linc, are you scared?"

"You ought to know the answer to that, Mich. Hell yeah, I'm scared. Why else do you think I ran away from you and Monique? I was so scared, I thought I might have passed it down to her or something ... or maybe that I'd given it to you."

"I don't think you did. I had a blood test done for Monique and myself about a month ago. I'll have another done though, just to make sure."

"Yeah, you do that." He fell silent for a moment, then he brought his other hand and covered Michelle's. "I'm so sorry, babe. I'm sorry I left you and Monique. Believe me, I didn't mean—"

"You've got nothing to apologise, Linc. I didn't understand then, but I do now."

"It's not the fear of dying that scares me really. It's having that little girl think less of me after I'm gone."

"You're not going anywhere, Linc. You're back home where you once where. I'm going to take care of you¬—Monique and I, we're going to take care of you."

He looked at her, saw the seriousness in her eyes and knew it was a done deal, no use fighting back.

"You still love me, Mich?"

She drew her chair across to be beside him. "One time, all I tried to do was hate you. For being the man you are, but most especially for running away. But I guess that's water down the bridge. Yes, a part of me still loves you, Linc. You've done wrong, but you're home. For now that's all that matters to me."

She retrieved her arms and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. A dam had just been let loose inside her heart. She felt its waters rush on down like a turbulent wave, splashing over scorched earth and parched dry land. Once she'd thought she'd never find herself in such a predicament, yet here she was right back at it. Was she being desperate, she wondered? A part of her told her this was so, but she didn't seem to mind. She really didn't seem to care anymore.

They were still locked in an embrace when there came the sound of approaching footsteps. Lincoln let go of her, gazing past her shoulder at what had just walked in. Michelle turned in her chair and smiled with relief when she saw her neighbour's friend standing close to the kitchen's doorway holding Monique in her hand. Michelle got up and went to thank her neighbour, carrying her daughter in her arm as she saw her off her apartment before returning to Lincoln who was no standing beside the table, looking somewhat nervous and unsettled as if she were about to introduce him to his maker. Monique stared at him with interest as her mother carried her towards him.

"Monique-babe, do you know who this man is?" she whispered into her daughter's ear.

Monique shook her head; Lincoln swallowed a gob of saliva.

"Well, let me reintroduce you then. This is your Daddy. I want you to get to know him more."

She held the child before Lincoln who then carried her in his arms. Father and daughter stared at each other like half-felt strangers. Then Lincoln's eyes poured out tears.

"Hey there, pretty babe. Your Daddy's come home."

"Da," Monique muttered.

The sound was so infectious, Lincoln could stop himself from laughing. He wrapped an arm around his daughter's back and laughed, though this time tears poured from his eyes. Michelle came to his side and there the three of them stood with their arms around each other, looking like a perfect portrait of a family. The moment was soon broken by the sound of someone knocking at the door. Michelle left both of them to go see who it was. 

"Shanice?" she muttered her friend's name.

**********

Shanice spent the first twenty minutes since leaving Nigel's place lost in quagmire of roving thoughts which had begun beating against her brow with the force of a troubling headache. People went past her, some even bumped into her, and yet she was oblivious to this. Her feet simply took her towards a destination that was none of her choice. After some seemingly endless walking, she managed to get a bit of her thoughts on track. It would have been alright if she simply went back to her place, but that would seem rather easy on her part. Besides, what would she do with herself once she got there: fall on her bed and cry her eyes off till evening? Beat herself for falling in love with someone whom all this while she figured she knew but now seemed like she hardly ever knew? Reach for the phone and dial his number, curse him when he picks up for being a lying bastard and then hang up after swearing she never wants to set eyes on him again? 

Too late, her feet were taking her close to her apartment building. She was less than a block from it when she stopped and took a detour instead towards the direction of Plainview Park. She found herself a lonely park bench and sat there and watched other people strolling in and out of the park. She tried to empty her mind of the episode she'd encountered back at Michael's place, but even that was a hard thing to do. It was hard for her to avoid replying the words that the woman had mentioned to her, of being his wife. Shanice was unaware of her right hand curling into a fist and smacking into the palm of her left hand till after she'd repeated the action several times and then had to draw herself to a halt before anyone noticed her and began to assume she was losing herself.

Michael ... Michael ... how the fuck could you go and do this to me! She cried inside her head. 

She must have sat there for a long time before she finally got up and left. She needed some bit of solace, and the only person she figured could provide her with that right now was her best friend, Michelle. 

**********

Tara was huffing and puffing as she drove all the way across the city back to her condo located in a posh apartment building in the Upper West side. On arriving there, she threw her handbag across the room, kicked her feet out of her shoes and cursed while she did them both. She went into the kitchen and got out a cold bottle of Bacardi and poured herself a stiff one. She finished her drink in one swallow. Not satisfied, she was just about pouring herself another when she noticed a shadow standing behind her. She turned around, her face glaring with anger at whom it might be. 

It was her three-year old daughter, Gloria. She stood there cradling her teddy bear to her chest, staring at her mother with expressionless eyes. Tara never could get the fact out of her mind of just how much she looked like her father. At other times she was gentle with her, but now wasn't one of such times.

"What is it, Gloria?" she snapped at her. "Don't you have homework to do?"

"I don't have any," she answered.

"Where's Oliver? I thought I left him to look after you."

Gloria didn't need to answer that as soon there was the sound of a door slamming closed, followed by approaching footsteps. Gloria turned to see who it was and at the same time moved aside for the approaching shadow that was Oliver. He was eight years younger than Tara, and still he looked like he'd turned an adult merely months ago. His cheeks still bore some chubbiness to it, even though he was attempting to grow a goatee. His hair was stylish and he had a distinctive swagger that could only be found amongst college undergrads. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and flayed jeans. He walked past Gloria as if he'd barely seen her and smiled at her mother as he approached her.

"How're you doing, gorgeous?" he came towards her and planted a kiss on her left cheek. But Tara wasn't buying any of it.

"Where has your ass being, Olie?" she preferred calling him that instead of Olivier. He didn't like it as when coming from her she made him sound more as if he were still a kid. One of these days he was going to have a talk with her about that. Although a very careful one. Wouldn't want to upset his money machine, now would he? 

"I got a call from one of my boys, asking if I could meet him somewhere. I wasn't gone for long though."

"You expect me to believe that crap coming from you?"

"It's the God-honest truth, babe. Why would I want to lie to you about such?"

"I asked you to look after Gloria, didn't I? When I say 'look after', I mean don't let her out of your fucking sight. Didn't I mention that to you, or was I talking to someone else when I left here a while ago?"

He was getting irritated by her way of talking. "I know you told me to watch your girl, and that's what I've been doing since. But I just had to meet with this pal of mine, I couldn't skip that. And besides, she's been doing alright way before I left. It's not like she took a stroll or anything."

Tara shook her head with exasperation and pushed past him, walking out of the kitchen. "Ask someone to do a little something for me, and he gets to give me some jibby-jabber type of excuse. Sometimes Olie, I just don't know what I'm doing with you."

Oliver walked behind her. Gloria stood by the doorway watching both adults argue.

"Now why do you have to be all up on me like that, eh? I told you I had to go meet up with some friends of mine. You sound like I took a trip down to Mexico." 

Tara turned around to face him, jabbing a finger at his chest. "Personally, I wouldn't really give a damn if you said you'd been to the moon and back. But the least you could do is watch over my daughter before you ever decide to take off. I mean, can't you try helping me out sometimes."

"I am helping out, Tara, babe. But what else do you want from me? My blood?"

"You're so impossible," she retorted with anger.

"Who was it anyway that you went to go see? Her old man?"

Tara picked up her handbag from where she'd thrown it and started fishing inside till she found what she was looking for – a cigarette case. She opened it and took one into her mouth. Oliver was quick to produce a lighter from his jacket and lit her cigarette for her. She took in a deep drag and then blew a cloud of smoke on his face. Oliver coughed at the same time swept his hand across his face to break the smoke cloud.

"It's none of your business whom I went to see ... but if you must know, the answer is yes."

"I don't know, what do you still see in that loser, anyway? I thought you said you're done with him and all of that."

"I was done with him. But with you still acting up to your silly shenanigans, I'm just about thinking of getting back with him."

Oliver grunted laughter. "Yeah, right. Ain't you the one who always said that would be the last thing your ass ever thought of doing—getting back with that loser ex-hubby of yours? You ain't going to do such thing, so quit breaking my heart."

"I can do more than just break your heart, Ollie," she said to him. "I could smash it into tiny crystalline pieces that your other girlfriends are going to have a field day putting it back even if they've got tons of glue with them."

"Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me."

She turned around and headed towards the direction of their bedroom. Oliver followed behind her like a dog after its owner; within seconds of them entering the short corridor away from Gloria's sight, they were giggling and laughing together. Gloria remained where she was in the living room, watching them as they headed in the direction of her mother's bedroom. She knew what was soon to happen, though she yet couldn't find the words to it. Almost every night it was the same set of noise she heard coming from behind their door—their head hitting against the wall, startling her from sleep; the sound of her mom crying out ... no matter how much she shielded her ears from the noise, it wouldn't go away till about an hour or less than that. 

She wished her mother had taken her along to see her daddy.

She went to turn on the TV set and sat down on a couch to watch a tele-tubbies program.

**********

"Shanice? What's wrong, girlfriend?"

Michelle pushed her door wide for her friend to step into her abode. The dour look on her friend's face told her she'd begun her day on a sad note. Shanice stepped into her Michelle's living room. She figured they were alone; she wasn't expecting to find a male stranger carrying her daughter inside her home. Though it took little time for her to recognise who the stranger was, even though he looked far different from the last time she'd seen him. 

"Hi there, Lincoln," she waved a desultory hand at him. "Long time no see."

"Hi there, Shanice," replied Lincoln who came out of the kitchen when Monique in his arms. "You're still a fine-looking lady all this time."

Shanice managed a weak type of laughter. "I wish." She plopped herself on a couch and lowered her face into her hands, sniffling.

"Shanice, what's wrong?" Michelle came to seat beside her. She waved a hand at Lincoln, indicating for him to take Monique away from the living room. Lincoln turned and carried her towards the direction of her bedroom, leaving both friends alone. "Come on, girlfriend, tell who's messed up your day."

"I've fucked up, Mich," she murmured with her face still covered by her hands, sniffling some more. "I've really done fucked up big time."

"What the hell are you talking about, Shanice? Was it Chris? Did he get at you somehow?"

"It wasn't Chris," she said, finally withdrawing her teary face from her hands. "It's Eric. I found out today he's been living a lie the whole time."

"How come, girl?"

And like that, Shanice revealed to her best friend all what the mysterious woman she'd met at her lover's place had revealed to her. By the time she was through, Michelle too was speechless she couldn't think of what to say. In a way, it would have been wrong to think of anything worth saying. Instead she pulled her friend closer towards her and gave her a hug while she cried over her shoulder, mourning a love she thought was hers.

Lincoln was with Monique in her bedroom, and at the moment she was presenting him with her school books. She showed him a picture of a bird she had painted. Lincoln let her talk while he listened to her talk about her class friends and her favourite teachers. He ran his hands through the back of her hair, soaking in her beauty. How could he ever have abandoned such a beautiful child as she the way he had done? Even now as he sat here listening to her prattle about her school and about her mom, and her mom's neighbours, he couldn't help being afraid that all this was simply for the moment. That such niceness as that which he was experiencing right now wouldn't last long. He felt both saddened and depressed by thinking such. It wasn't until he turned his attention towards the Monique that he realised that she'd long stopped talking and was now paying close attention to him. 

"What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Nothing ... nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

She shook her head. "No, you're not. I know when mommy's happy or sad. You're not happy."

Clever girl, he thought to himself. "Well, actually, I was ... I was just thinking about something."

"About what?"

He decided to take a risk. "I was thinking ... I don't know ... if maybe your mommy would like for me to stay here or not."

"Why not?" she sat up on the bed and looked at him with wide, non-inquisitive eyes. "Why do you think she won't let you stay?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I used to stay here with her, but that was some time ago ... when you were very little." Now came the hard part, and his voice started to seem heavy for him. "I had to ... I had to go away."

"Why did you? Didn't you want to stay with mommy and me anymore?"

"No, no, honey ... it wasn't like that ... wasn't like that at all." he thought he could feel his heart aching to break, feel it beating heavy against his chest. He really felt like breaking down right now into tears, except he knew the tears wouldn't come. Though the breaking down would come pretty soon. "It wasn't like that, Monique. You see ... your daddy was sick ... has been very sick, and needed a lot of help. The type of help your mommy couldn't fix. I had to go someplace where people could help me ... that's why I had to leave."

Monique seemed to analyse this for a moment before asking, "The people, did they help you?"

"In a way, yes, they kind of did. Matter of fact, I'm happy they did."

"Your sickness now, is it gone?"

A tough question to answer, but he thought he'd give it his best shot. "No, it hasn't really gone ... being here and but seeing you once again has sort of made it worthwhile."

That brought a smile to her face. It was a smile unlike any he'd behold in a long time. 

"I'm going to talk with mommy, and I'll tell her I want you to stay with us. She'll listen to me."

"Something tells me she'll listen to you more than she would to—"

Suddenly he bowled over and grunted at what felt like a sharp pang bite through his stomach and then spread to further reaches of his innards. He heard Monique tap his arm, calling at him at the same time. Her voice asked what was wrong, but Lincoln was caught in the throes of his pain her voice seemed to be coming from a faraway place. Right at that moment he felt so much like wanting to throw up. There came another lightening strike of pain shoot across his stomach region, making him groan louder.




Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 06



Monique was shaking his arm frantically, asking him what was wrong. When that didn't work, she jumped down from the bed and rushed for the door, screaming aloud for her mom. Lincoln fell to his knees and from the rolled himself into a ball by the side of the bed still clutching his stomach and groaning from the terrible pain that was wracking him. He could hear the sound of voices approaching him but for the moment his eyes were watery with tears he could barely make out the forms that spilled through the room's door and came to kneel beside him. He heard his name being called over and over again. It wasn't until a hand wiped the film of tears from his face that he was then able to make out the worried features of Michelle who was crouched beside him. Behind her stood Shanice who was holding onto Monique who was already starting to cry. Still all he could do was remain there where he was, clutching his stomach and muttering groaning sounds. He as well was shivering all over like a fish that had been brought out of water.

"Linc ... Linc, speak to me." Michelle felt the back of her hand against his neck, feeling for a temperature. "Oh my God, Linc, you're starting to burn up."

And indeed he was. Large beads of sweat were popping all over the hurt features of his face as if he'd just been placed on a burning stove. He kept trying to speak, but it all sounded hitched and guttural.

"Get ... git ... get me ... th ... there ..." he managed to pull a hand from his stomach region and pointed a shaking finger towards the bathroom door. 

Michelle saw where his finger was pointing to and told Shanice to come over and help her lift him up to his feet. Monique stood where she was by the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself like an Egyptian doll, and bawling her eyes out. Michelle was too distracted at the moment to tell her to keep quiet.

Shanice forgot about her heartache problem for the time being and took one of Lincoln's arms and draped it over her shoulder while Michelle helped pull him up to his feet and together they dragged him past the door of Monique's bathroom and went inside. 

Lincoln was still struggling to articulate his words. "Toil ... toi ... UGHRRR ..."

Both Michelle and Shanice realised what he meant and led him to the toilet facility. Michelle kicked up the seat and they left Lincoln hanging there on his knees as it wasn't long before they heard him convulse and make harsh guttural sounds deep in his throat as suddenly he heaved out his bowel discharge into the toilet bowl. He did it a couple more times, all the while holding onto the toilet seat as if for dear life. Michelle led her friend out and back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. It was then she went to comfort her crying daughter.

"It's alright, little pumpkin," she soothed and kissed her forehead. "He's alright. Everything's going to be alright."

Monique made dry hip-cupping sounds, trying to stem down her crying fit. "Is he ... is daddy going to be okay?"

"Yes, sweetie. He's going to be just fine."

"He told me ... he told me that he was sick ... that he ran away because he was sick. He was afraid you wouldn't have him back. I told him that you would."

Michelle pulled her daughter to her chest. "He's here to stay, sweetie," she murmured. "He's here to stay."

It took an even longer time for Lincoln's bowel vomiting to quell to a stop. By the time he was done he was mortally exhausted. He slid along the floor and managed to give the door a couple of kicks indicating that he was just about done. When Michelle and Shanice stepped inside, holding their noses from the fetid smell that was now in the room, he was lying on the linoleum floor gasping like one who'd gone up Mt. Everest and forgot to take his oxygen mask. Trails of vomit were on his lower chin and shirt collar. Michelle undressed him and put him in her daughter's bath tub and gave him a thorough wash and clean. An hour later, long after she'd dried him up and dressed him up in a pair of thick clothes, she led him to her bedroom and laid him on her bed. His shivering hadn't stopped but it had gone down much and same with his fever. Shanice was in the kitchen preparing him a sup of herbal tea. She brought it for Michelle who then gave it to him to drink up, soothing his pain. She sat down by the side of the bed feeling his temperature, glad to observe that it had gone down for now ... but what about next time?

Monique stood by the doorway alongside Shanice, holding her favourite doll to her chest, watching.

"How're you feeling, Linc?" Michelle asked him.

"You've saved me time and time again," Lincoln murmured. His voice sounded ragged from the bout of vomiting he'd done. "I don't know how to start thanking you."

"It's what I was meant to you," she replied, holding his hand.

"Funny, I haven't had it come onto me this strong in a while. I must be regressing."

"Is that good or bad?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not good."

"How about your drugs? I thought you had some of those?"

"I lost my bid for those sometime ago when I ran out of money. There wasn't any means with which I could ... raise anything."

"You stupid man, you could have called me. Why in God's name didn't you ever think of doing that?"

"What? And then risk your wrath? I broke your heart before, Mich. You think it's ... it's something I'm happy to live with?" he brought his hand to her cheek and wiped off the single strand of tear that was running down the side of her eye. "You're so beautiful, Mich. Please forgive me for ever leaving you."

"I told you, there's nothing to forgive. You're home, and that's all that matters." She sniffled and wiped her face then turned to Monique and indicated for her to come over. Monique did.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she murmured.

"Nothing to be sorry, pretty pumpkin. Daddy will be up on his feet in no time." He cut her a smile.

"Monique, sweetie, mommy has to go run now and do some stuff. I want you to take care of daddy here while I'm gone. Can you do that for me, sweetie?"

She nodded. "I'll look after daddy," she said.

"I know you will, honey." Michelle kissed her daughter's cheek, and then turned to Lincoln. "About those drugs of yours, do you have like a list of them so maybe I can see what I can get?"

"They aren't going to help much," he said feebly. "They just stem the pain down a bit but that's all they do."

"I don't care. Do you still recall their names or do you have anything like a list of them?"

"Yeah ... yeah, just look in my shirt pocket. I think I've still got a list there somewhere."

Michelle got up from the bed and went out of the room to an alcove by the side of the kitchen in a basket where she'd dumped his vomit-stained clothes. She searched through them till she found a folded piece of paper which contained names of various pharmaceutical drugs and their dosage level. She brought the list to the bedroom and showed it to him.

"Yeah, that's it. Though I don't think you'll have much luck buying them over the counter. Much of them are expensive."

"I'll see to the ones that I can. After that we're going to get you to the hospital, but just rest for now. I'll be back later." She lowered her face and kissed his forehead. "Don't you die on me yet, you hear," she whispered to him. "Don't you dare die on me."

"I won't," he whispered back.

Michelle and Shanice returned to the living room, gathered up their stuff and then they left the apartment. 

They got themselves a taxi and gave the driver Shanice's apartment address. As they sat in the backseat, Michelle exploded into fresh tears. Shanice wrapped an arm around her friend's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay," she said.

Michelle shook her head and spoke with emphatic pain and despair in her voice. "No, it's not going to be okay, Sha. My Linc is dying, and there's nothing I can do about it. Absolutely nothing."

It was the bitter truth and even Shanice couldn't think of a comeback to that. And to think that her problems were more important that her friend's. They rode in silence after that. Michelle managed to put a clamp down on her tears, but it wasn't enough to stop the clamouring raging in her heart that her man was fighting the battle of his life ... and losing.



Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 07



Eric had camped outside Shanice's apartment for more than an hour now waiting for her to arrive. He'd thought after her meeting with his ex-wife that she would head for home with crying eyes. It had never occurred to him that she might have anticipated that he too would drop by her apartment to try and see about explaining things to her and instead decided to head someplace else. Eric might have thought about stopping by her friend Michelle's place if only he knew where it was. He was resigned to sit out by her front stoop and wait for her return. He'd tried her cell number a couple of times and though it rang, it went unanswered. There was an anxious pounding in his heart; obviously he was going to have to do a whole lot of explaining when he saw her.

Why hadn't he ever thought of telling her about Tara in the first place? He couldn't believe the thought had never stumbled to the forefront of his mind all this time until now. Sure, he ought to have told her about his past marriage ... but he'd figured it was much too early in their relationship. Besides, his stint with Tara was a part of his life he'd hoped to forget—aside from her getting pregnant with his baby. But there was nothing he could do about that. The judge and the court system had firmly made sure of that. Thus he was an absentee father, and he'd had no choice but to live with that burden to his name. That part of his life had been over and done with ... at least that's the way he'd always figured it to be. Still, that notwithstanding, he should have told Shanice about it. But then again, whatever had prompted the bitch to come searching for him all this time they'd been away from each other.

He shook his head at just how surprising his day was starting to turn out. Surprises just seem to come when you least expect them.

He stood up from the side of the stoop where he'd been sitting for some time now and stretched himself, watching commuters stroll past him. His ass felt cold and clammy as a rock. His car was parked less than a block away. He could drive on back home and come back some other time ... but what good would that do?

Just when he was about to give up on whether or not to continue his stay, a taxi drove to a stop less than three feet from him in front of the apartment building. His heart jumped to his throat when he saw the two familiar faces come out of the backseat. Both women's features clouded into a frown the second their eyes focused on him. 

"Hi, Michelle," he nodded at Shanice's friend.

"Hi, Eric," Michelle replied, though the coldness in her voice indicated it wasn't a happy greeting.

His eyes turned to Shanice who too was staring at him as if he didn't exist. Probably wishing that he didn't too. "Hi Shanice ... how're you doing?"

"I don't want to talk to you anymore, Eric," she said. "I don't ever want to see you anymore either."

"You have every right to say that, but first of all hear me out—" he tried to hold her hand but she flung it away from him, wanting to get past him. "Please, Shanice, at least just hear me out ... it's not what you think—"

"What the fuck do you expect me to think, Eric?" she yelled at him, immediately regretting it as a couple of faces walking the street turned to look at them. She was standing here by her front stoop creating a scene and that was something she never desired to do. Except she just couldn't help it. "We've got nothing to say to each other. Just go back and keep living the lying life you've been living—"

"I've never lied to you, Shanice—"

"—how could you look me in the eye and never told me—"

"—it wasn't like that at all—"

"—you've just been using me all this time—"

They would have stood there for a long time trading words back and forth at each other had Michelle not come to their middle to push them aside and thus make them avoid further embarrassment from staring commuter's eyes.

"Enough, you two!" said Michelle. "Eric, I don't think Shanice's listening to you. I think you'd better leave it for another day."

Eric saw the look in her eyes, looked back at Shanice who'd suddenly turned and gone up the stairs into her apartment building and realized it was a no-win situation. He swallowed his pride, turned around and went in the direction of where he'd left his vehicle. Michelle stood there and watched him walk away before going up the stairs to join her friend.

"How dare he come down here to apologise," fumed Shanice after she'd let herself and her friend into her apartment. "Bastard must think I'm some kind of fool or something."

"I don't know, girlfriend," said Michelle. "The lady you met when you were over at his place, you said she said she was his wife?"

"No, she said she is his wife. How could the bastard never mentioned such to me?"

"You mean he never gave a clue that he was married?"

"Mich, you know me well enough. You thinking I knew about this but still went along with him?"

"No, no, I know that ain't you. Just wondering how come he'd pull a stunt like that. But all this while you've been to his place, you never saw anything that indicated that he had a wife, right?"

Shanice shook her head. "No, I never did. If they were, then he sure took his time putting all her stuff away. But the woman told me they'd been separated for a while, having a rough time of things. I just can't believe it, Mich. Really, I'm so sick of men right now."

"You're not alone on that, sister," muttered Michelle who then dropped herself on a couch, her thoughts filled with her slowly dying man back at her pad.

   * * * *

Saturday came. Eric's eyes came awake to the sight and sound of the new day, though the memory of Shanice was still knocking on his mind and thus he found no solace in the day's morning sunshine; all he saw was dullness and a cloud full of grey sky. He got up with a groan and went into the bathroom to clean himself up.

An hour later he was dressed up in a tee shirt and jeans and was about fixing himself a cup of coffee when there came a knock on his door. A look of hope came to his face as he pictured it was Shanice standing there coming to hear his side of the story as he went to unlocked the door. The look of hope evaporated immediately from his face when he saw who it was—Tara. She stood there leaning by the side of his door with a smug smile on her face.

"What do you want, Tara," he said, feeling exasperated already with just the sight of her.

"How about a 'hi there, Tara. Nice seeing you again today.' That's sounds like a better way to start the day. Why do you always have to be so mean towards me, Eric?" 

"Is this a trick question?"

"Try the truth on me for once at least, Eric."

"I'm not mean to you, Tara. I just know that you're poison and I don't want to have anything to do with you anymore."

"Are you going to let me into your home, or would you like me standing here by the corridor all day, and perhaps wait till your landlord sees me." She flashed her eyes at him.

He really didn't want to and against his better judgement he pushed his door further open and made way for her to come inside his apartment. Tara's eyes went everywhere, trying to find if anything had changed or had moved since last time she was here. But most especially looking out for any indications that he'd had someone over the previous night. Maybe that bitch she'd met last time.

"So now you're in, tell me what exactly can I do for you, Tara?" Eric's words cut through her search.

She sat down on the arm of a couch to face him. "Did you get a chance to think about what I told you yesterday?"

"About you wanting me back in your life?"

She nodded.

"There's not a chance of that happening, Tara. You know that just as well as I do, so why don't you stop dreaming and wake up to reality."

"No dream, Eric. I really am being serious. I want you back, and Gloria too wants you back."

"Well isn't that sweet," he couldn't help but smirk. "You using your daughter to your selfish purpose. I thought you were smarter than that, Tara."

"She's your daughter too, Eric."

"So you say," he retorted. "But that wasn't what came off your mouth that day at the courtroom."

"That was a different me, Eric. Can't you for once try looking past all of that and instead think about the future ... at least for just once."

He knew that if he allowed himself to be swayed by her words that he would quickly fall into her clutches. It wasn't the first time she'd done this to him and he was very much aware of just how persuasive she could be when it comes to her getting whatever she wants. He told himself that he wasn't going to fall for a similar trap this time.

"Tara, I'd love to continue with this line of conversation, but I've got stuff to do. Why don't you just go play with some boy-toy, or better yet, drive around the block till you stumble onto one and just leave me alone."

"I didn't come all the way out here alone, Eric," she said. That seemed to grab his ears. "There's someone who'd like to talk with you too. Someone you haven't seen in a while, whom I know you're just dying to."

"Let me guess—your mother?"

"Very funny. Try guessing again seriously this time."

He knew who it was even before she mentioned her name, though he was just as afraid to hear her say it.

"Gloria's waiting in the car downstairs," she said.

"Why ... why didn't you bring her along with you?"

"I needed to know if you're in the right mind to see her. Now that I know, I can get her for you."

"Wouldn't that be against what your court order said against me?"

"Fuck the court order, Eric. This is just two adults talking, and not the system. Do you want to see your daughter or don't you?"

"Of course I want to see her," Eric said without hesitation.

Tara opened her handbag and took out her cell phone and dialled a number. "Ollie ... could you please bring Gloria upstairs with you. Thanks." She switched off her phone. "She'll be here soon."

Eric felt like laughing. "Who's Ollie? Is he your English butler or some new boy-toy you found recently?"

She looked at him coolly. "I don't have to answer that question, do I?"

"Wouldn't bother even if you do."

He came and sat down across from her and neither of them said anything or made any motion to. A few minutes later there was a knock on his door. Tara approached the door while Eric stood to his feet, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with this. She opened the door and Eric noted the young man standing there behind his daughter. Tara whispered something to him though he couldn't hear what it was, before then pushing Gloria into the apartment and closing the door behind her. 

"Gloria honey, hope you remember your daddy," he indicated at Eric, who still was looking sheepish and uncomfortable as his daughter's eyes sized him up. "I'm going to leave you both to each other." She then turned to Eric. "You still remember where I live, right?"

"I do."

"Good. When you both are done, put her in a cab or bring her there. I'll be waiting."

She opened the door and went out of it, closing it behind her, thus leaving father and daughter together after a long time.

    * * * *

A brief moment of eternity seemed to pass between father and daughter before either of them spoke.

"How are you, Gloria?" asked Eric with a slight shakiness to his voice.

"Fine."

"I was about to make myself a cup of coffee before you and your mom showed up," he pointed a thumb towards the direction of his kitchen. "Care to join me?"

"Do you have any cocoa puffs?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"I'd like to have some."

He came and took her hand and led her into his kitchen. She took a chair by the table and watched as he opened his top cupboards and took down an opened box of Cocoa Puff cereal and poured some into a bowl plate. He asked her simple questions about herself, how she was doing at school, and her friends while he heated some water in a stove. It didn't take long for him to have her cereal ready and made himself a cup of coffee. He sat across from her and sipped his coffee and watched her ate her cereal. She took a couple spoons of it before deciding she'd had enough.

"You sure you've had enough?" he asked her, taking away the yet unfinished bowl of cereal.

She nodded, and then unexpectedly she asked: "Are you getting back with mommy?"

Eric was totally unprepared for the question and for a second or two didn't know how to respond to it. Finally he managed, "I don't know, baby."

"She told me this morning that she wants you back."

"She told me the same too, but I don't think she really means it."

"Mom's got problems."

"Yeah, I know."

"I don't like any of her boyfriends."

Eric ate the remainder of her cereal then took the bowl to the sink to wash it clean. It burned his heart to imagine Tara bringing her stupid boy toys around to her apartment and carrying about her stupid self where her daughter—his daughter—would see such. He put the bowl away and then dried his hands on a piece of cloth.

"Did she leave you with me so you can try talking me into coming back?" he asked.

Gloria nodded.

"I'm not going to lie to you ... not a day goes by that I don't miss you."

He came to her side of the table and wrapped his arms around her. Tears immediately sprung upon his eyes and he couldn't help it.

"So many nights I wish I'd never left you alone with her ... that I could have put much of a fight to keep you with me."

"It's not your fault, daddy. It's not your fault."

"Still I wish I hadn't. I just wasn't strong enough."

"Mom told me you have a friend."

"Yes, I do." He pulled himself back, wiped tears off his eyes and pulled his chair closer to hers. "She's a very nice lady, and I know you'd like her too."

"What's her name?"

"Her name's Shanice."

"She sounds black," Gloria commented.

"What makes you say that?"

"I have a friend at school who has a sister that has a name just like that."

"Well, yes, she is. And she's nice and pretty too."

"Do you like her?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you like her more than mom?"

Another tough question to which he was unprepared for. "I don't know ... a part of me does though. Do you think your mommy really wants me back?"

She shrugged at first, and then she shook her head.

"Well then, I guess that just about settles it."

"She's still mad at you," she said. "I heard her talking it with her friend Oliver the other day. She's not happy about you."

"Sometimes I wish I could get through to her, darling. Except your mom can be so ... difficult. I can't understand her anymore than I want to be with her."

"It's not your fault—mom has got issues."

"You don't like being with her, do you?" 

Though she didn't give him an answer but the dour look on her face told him all he needed to know—his daughter wasn't happy being with her mom at all.

"How about you spending the day with me?" he asked her. "I'll give your mom a call and try and get her to swing with it."

Her features brightened into a smile. "I'd like that."

Her smile was so infectious he couldn't help but smile with her. He felt as if for the first time since Tara let him in on her conversation with Shanice that the spot of dark cloud was finally lifting off from above his head. Suddenly the day wasn't getting dull like he'd felt it was when he woke up—as long as his little girl was here with him, he reckoned it wouldn't, and that gave him cause to celebrate.

"What do you say we go out and get ourselves a pretty big snack with some ice cream," he said. "You still love chocolate?"

She grinned and gave a hearty yes.

"Alright then, let's blow this joint." 

**********

It was getting onto 11:25 a.m., and Lincoln was still asleep. Michelle sat on a chair not too far from the bed knitting a sweater at the same time keeping a close watch on him. She herself was tired; she'd never been as tired as she currently was in a long time. The previous night hadn't been an easy one both for her and Monique too. Getting to the pharmacy yesterday evening, she had only been able to purchase few of the drugs noted on the list he'd given her. The rest were either too expensive or way too important for the lady behind the counter to dispense to just about anyone. It would have required her going to the hospital and filling up a doctor's prescription ... and then again, it would have been much expensive for her to afford. Michelle had fussed and fumed and cursed the lady and had it not been for Shanice who'd assisted in restraining her, God knows what she would have ended up doing. She had been boiling way deep inside herself at that moment that she would have ended up setting the whole building on fire ... and she most likely would have done it had it not been for Shanice. Frustrated and downright angry, but feeling much hopeless at the same time, they'd left the pharmacy and gone someplace else. The news there had been much the same as they'd received in the former, and going to another one after that hadn't improved their chances. Shanice had left her afterwards to get back home¬—she needed to wake up early for work the following morning, though she'd promised dropping by her place when she returned. Michelle had returned home in despair and explained what she'd gotten to Lincoln, who'd simply nodded at the inevitability of her result. He'd gulped down the ones she'd given him and things had gone smoothly for all three of them ... until late in the night when Lincoln had another convulsive episode. It had been so sever, scaring her and Monique as well as they both tried to calm him down. Lincoln had coughed out splotches of blood and they'd watched with frightened eyes as he fell unconscious from the bed, slipping back and forth into delirium. Eventually they had managed to resuscitate him. Michelle had given him some Valium that had knocked him out and it was only then that mother and daughter had called it a night ... still that hadn't gotten rid of fear from their minds with the premonition that Lincoln was in a world of hurt and pain and there was little or nothing they could do to prevent it.

Morning had arrived and Michelle had taken her daughter to school and then hurried back home. She had called Shanice on the phone a while ago to tell her about the event of last night as well as let her in on her fears and worries.

"I'm losing him, girlfriend," said Michelle to her friend over the phone nearly two hours ago. "I'm really losing him, and the drugs aren't sure as hell helping much. God knows how long he's got to live."

"You ought to get him to the hospital, Mich," 

advised Shanice. "Really it's the only thing you can do for him right now."

"And where's that going to leave me, Shanice? It'll look more like I'm abandoning him to his fate. Those doctors aren't going to do anything, and you know that."

"Well, neither are you. Right now they're the best bet you can gamble on."

Shanice noted the pained look that was on her friend's face and immediately wished she could take back what she'd just said to her.

"I'm sorry, Mich," she offered. "Linc is a good man and has a good heart. I wish things weren't as bad as they really are."

"Not your fault, Sha. I too wish the same thing," she sighed with despair. "Why didn't the stupid son-of-a-bitch ever thing about getting in touch with me all the while he was sick?"

"I guess he figured he was doing the right thing."

"And look at where it's got him now. My man isn't back in my arms more than a week and already he's dying. Oh God, Sha, I tell you, if there's really a God out there ..." she tried searching for the words to finish with but couldn't find them. In such dire times, the right words are often too hard to come by.

They'd parted ways not long afterwards—Shanice saying she needed to be on her way to work, leaving Michelle with a toneless phone, wondering where her next bout of solace was going to come from. So she took up her solitary watch on Lincoln while at the same time keeping her hands busy with her knitting. Her mind still was running riot inside her head ... and what was most painful was that it was starting to clash with the fervent drumbeat that was her heart. She reflected on the conversation she'd had with Shanice and knew that she was right—there was very little or nothing she could do for Linc. He needed to be in a hospital. She reckoned she would tell him about it once he comes awake. For now, she continued watching at the same time knitting her sweater. 




Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 07



* * * *

She needed to take a break, and yet she didn't want to. Shanice had been working nearly non-stop since she arrived at the Deli, going back and forth, ferrying orders from the customers who were there and carrying back meal-laden plates from the kitchen counter. The morning hours had gone like a breeze and now it was past noon and she ought to have taken her break already yet she was still making herself busy. She was fighting hard to keep pressing thoughts away from her mind, everything or at least anything that had to do with Eric. Though she couldn't tell how long she would keep on like this—blocking his name and face from her thoughts—but if she could get through half the day like this, then she reckoned she would be A-okay. She'd left her phone's volume to run on vibration only. So far Eric hadn't called unlike yesterday. He probably was seeing the misery he'd gone and put her through, she said to herself. Serves him right. 

Too late, her boss tapped her arm and told her to meet him out back. The look in his eyes told her she wasn't going to like whatever it was he wanted to lay out to her. She took a final order and then decided to take a minutes' break to hear what he had to say. 

He was waiting for her outside. She tried not to act defensive as she approached him.

"What's up, boss?"

"You're what's up," he said to her. "Shanice, you've got something that's bothering you, and I don't like it."

"I ain't got nothing on my mind," was her feeble answer.

"The hell you don't. Look ... whatever it is that's bothering you, I don't know about it, except that I don't like it. I want you to take the rest of the day off, you hear me. Go home and try and get yourself back together and then bring yourself on back tomorrow morning if you're feeling better."

"Who's going to run my shift?"

"I already called Gina a couple of minutes ago. She'll be here in less than twenty."

The grim look in her boss's eyes told her this wasn't an argument she was apt to win. She sighed before replying:

"Alright, you're the boss. Could I at least finish serving until Gina gets her?"

He reluctantly allowed her to do that, figuring it was the least bit of work she could do until she left for home. Shanice went back into the Deli, via the kitchen, and was just in time to pick up the next order that was coming up. 

It was an unlikely bit of coincidence that she had picked up the order meant for the one person she'd promised herself not to see or speak with again ... though how could she have known as she approached the table where Eric sat facing her, with a look of surprise and anxiousness on his face, the same too that was on hers. She noticed the little girl seated beside him; she too was staring at her. Shanice felt her heart beginning to trot as she drew to a stop before his table. This wasn't how she'd planned for the day to happen.

"Hi Shanice," said Eric. "You're looking good today."

Shanice dropped his order on his table, giving him a cool and distant look. "Nice seeing you, Eric." She turned to leave but Eric half stood from his table and grasped her arm. Shanice stared at him sharply, not wanting to make a scene. Eric too was thinking the same thing and quickly let go of her arm.

"Please, just give me a few seconds," he pleaded. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me anymore. But before that happens, I'd like to introduce you to a very special someone." He indicated to Gloria who stood up from her seat. "This is my daughter, Gloria." He turned to his daughter. "Gloria, honey, this is that special friend I told you about. Her name's Shanice."

"Please to meet you," said Gloria, sticking out her hand towards Shanice, who stood there for a moment, too dumbfounded with the picture that was unravelling before her eyes. She too reached out and shook her hand.

"Nice meeting you too, Gloria." Shanice switched her gaze back at Eric. There were a thousand questions dancing in her head right there and then.

Eric took one of the food plates to the table beside theirs and told Gloria to sit there and eat her meal while he and aunt Shanice have a moment to talk. Shanice planted herself on the seat across from his, glad that her boss had given her the rest of the day off.

"The woman whom you met at my apartment the other day," said Eric, indicating his thumb at Gloria. "She's her mother."

"She said you and her are married."

"We were married, but that was nearly five years ago. It ended not long after Gloria was born, and it's been that way ever since."

Shanice thought for a moment. "That wasn't what she told me," she said.

"That's Tara for you—she's a conniving woman who's told nothing but lies about me. She's always looking for means of hurting me."

"How did it end between the both of you?"

"It was ugly. I was having a hard time of life, and Tara had a lot of friends keeping her company. I was blinded by my love for her, and she wound up using it against me. She took me to court and told lies about me. Got a restraining order on my head and virtually stopped me from having anything to do with my little girl."

"So why's she back now?"

Eric shook his head. "I don't know, and I don't care. I don't want her—it's you I want to be with."

Shanice looked down at the table for a moment. This certainly wasn't going the way she'd planned. She was supposed to leave her still harbouring anger and hatred for the hurt she'd had when she visited his apartment that last time and ran into his ex. Even when he'd tried talking to her last time and she'd told him off, she had felt a bit happy about that, knowing then that whatever pain that was in her heart would soon go away once he did. Last night she'd gone to bed promising herself that never again would she make herself seem so cheap to anyone ... giving away her heart to anyone merely on a whim. But today—right now—wasn't feeling like when she woke up in the morning. 

"Why ... how come you never told me about her in the beginning?" she asked.

"I didn't remember, really, I didn't. I haven't thought about Tara in a long time ... neither about my daughter," he turned his head to stare affectionately at Gloria who was deep into what she was eating. "Sounds careless, I know. And stupid too, but it's the truth. I've been so wrapped up in myself that for nearly two years now I'd forgotten I really had a daughter. Tara never allowed me visiting rights to see her until now. But I'm sorry I never told you. That was my mistake."

There had been a mountain-like iceberg forming in her heart from the moment Eric's ex had uttered those lines that she figured had sealed whatever warmth she'd been having for him. Hearing him right now utter the words he just said had brought a drastic change to the iceberg. Instead of continuing being cold and increasing in size, there was a sun just appearing and it was melting it away. She didn't know yet whether to be grateful for that or not ... but it felt good somewhat to feel the sun coming in through her windows once again. Never did she think it would happen again, or that it would be like this. She leaned forward and took Eric's hands in hers; there was no need for words to let him know he'd been forgiven.

"So, how come she decided now to leave your little girl with you?"

"That day she met you," said Eric, "when I got back to the apartment, she was there waiting for me. She talked about wanting me back, but somehow I figured that was a lie. She just wanted to know how I was doing and to find some new means of twisting the knife once again inside my heart. She brought Gloria to my place today, hoping she would persuade me that way."

"She seems to be quite a character, your ex-wife I mean," Shanice mused.

Eric shrugged. "I can't blame her—she's a Cancer."

Shanice frowned at this. "The star or the disease?"

"Wouldn't you prefer it if she were both?"

That cracked both of them up and they shared their laughter at it. Gloria turned to look at them, seeing they were happy at each other, returned to her meal.

"What do you plan on doing about her?" Shanice indicated at his daughter.

"I've been doing some quick thinking about that since morning. She too isn't happy being around her mother. I'm thinking maybe now's a better time to take her away from her mom. But how, I don't know."

"I know next to nothing about child custody stuff, but I know the court system's your best bet, and it's not going to be an easy fight."

"I know that. Most times the courts prefer awarding the child with the mother and making the father look like a bum, which was practically what happened to me." he stopped to observe Gloria; his eyes were getting misty. "I miss so much. I can't believe all this time I never thought about getting her back in my life. I can't believe what sort of absentee father I've turned out to be."

Shanice gave his hand a squeeze. "You said it yourself—your ex kept you away from her. There was nothing you could have done. Stop blaming yourself for that. If there's anyone who deserves being blamed it's her."

"That's comforting to hear you say." Eric took out his handkerchief and wiped the tears off his eyes. 

"I guess now the question that remains is where does all of this leave us. Are you still mad at me?"

"I am mad at you," she said. "But I'm willing to let down my guard on one condition."

He took her hand in hers. "I'm listening."

"No more keeping secrets from me. Ever."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed them. "I promise never to do so again."

Shanice smiled at him and cupped his face in her hands, recalling the texture of his skin and loving it. And loving him as well.

"Are you going to be working till evening?" he asked.

"Actually my boss gave me the rest of the day off. I was thinking pissed at you and he kind of saw the dark look on my face."

"So, where would you like to go from here?"

"My place," she said, and smiled. "You coming?"

"For sure I am. But first we'll have to make a stop someplace else. I've got to return Gloria to her mother before she calls the cops on me."



Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 08



Eric did drop his daughter back at the apartment building where she was staying with her mother. Eric had called her before they left the Deli to let her knowing they were coming. He'd left Shanice in the car while he took his daughter up and knocked at the apartment door. It wasn't Tara who came to the door but a young sprug Eric reckoned she had picked up to keep her warm in bed. Tara was so good at finding such type of people.

"Hi there," Oliver waved a hand at him, grinning like a sheepdog. He was wearing jeans and his shirt was open, and was holding the neck of a bottle of beer in his other hand. "You're Tara's former man, ain't you?"

"The name's Eric," he said as he and Gloria entered the room. Gloria, he noticed, didn't say nothing to Oliver. She didn't even indicate that he was standing there next to them. "Is Tara around?"

"Oh yeah, she's in the bedroom taking care of herself. You want me to get you anything, like a beer maybe."

"No, thanks. Just tell her I've brought Gloria back. I'll see her some other time."

He was about turning to make his exit when he heard someone call his name from behind. He turned around and there was Tara, looking young and lovely in a sheer evening robe. Her hair was done in the shape of a honey comb. Gloria went to sit herself on a couch and was turned away from them, watching a program on TV.

"And here comes the lady herself," Oliver crackled.

At that moment, Eric so much wanted to give the young lad a smack or two; the cold look in Tara's eyes told him that she too was probably thinking about doing the same thing. 

"Oliver, cover yourself up," she said. "Don't you have better things to do right now?"

Whatever that meant, Eric didn't care to know as Oliver left both of them alone and went and plumped himself on a separate couch, raising the bottle he had in his hand to his mouth. Tara led him out into the corridor, closing the door behind her so they could talk more privately.

"I'm sorry about Oliver, Eric. He can be a bore sometimes." 

"You really haven't changed, Tara. Is this your new pet you've been walking around with?"

"Give me a break, will you, Eric. It's not like you're here to keep me company. Besides, you've got your own lady friend, haven't you?"

"Yeah right," he sneered. "The same lady friend you told lies to. Ain't that the one you're referring to?"

Tara blushed. "I know I might have said some things to her that I ought not have, but you can't blame a woman for being jealous sometimes."

"Get this straight, Tara. I don't care what you do with your life—that's your business. But I do care when you try to get involved in mine, and also when you bring your life towards our daughter. For God's sake, how could you be doing what you're doing with Gloria seeing you like this?"

"Don't you lecture me, Eric," Tara snapped. "She's my daughter, and how I raise her is my business, not yours. Oliver is good around her, and I never play around for Gloria to see."

"That's not what she's told me," Eric snapped 

back.

Tara sighed. "Look, what are we fighting for anyway? I know you miss her, and she misses you. Don't you get it, Eric? I really want you back."

"Fat chance of that happening. I brought back Gloria as promised, so now you can go back in there and play 'mom' with your young pet. Goodbye."

He turned around and began walking away.

"Don't forget to call next time you want to come spend some time with her," Tara said to him.

Eric stopped at the bank of elevators and pressed a button before turning to reply her. "Get this through your head, Tara. The next time I'm coming back here is getting my daughter off of you. 

You're not fit to be her mother; you never where."

As if on cue, the elevator doors eased open right that moment and Eric stepped inside, leaving Tara starry-eyed to think about what he'd just said.

Shanice wasn't in the car waiting for him. When he arrived at the lobby floor, she was there in the foyer, waiting for him.

"I got depressed sitting in the car all by myself," she explained as they walked about of the building and went towards where he'd parked his car. "Besides, I wanted to now if you needed assistance to talk to that bitch of an ex wife of yours."

"I don't think that would be necessary. I told her about coming for Gloria next time I showed up."

"My hero! How did she take it?"

"I didn't wait to find out. But I know she won't be happy about it."

* * * *

Michelle didn't know when she dozed off and she would have kept on sleeping had she not felt a continuous tap on her arm. Her eyes inched open and she saw Lincoln standing beside her, tapping her arm. He was wearing a fresh pair of clothes that she'd left out for him while he'd been asleep, and she couldn't help noticing how refreshed he now looked. She sat up in the chair where she'd fallen asleep, her knitting stuff lay on the floor, no doubt fallen from her lap when she'd dozed off.

"Hey there Mich," Lincoln smiled down at her. "You're still a loud snorer than I am."

Michelle snorted. "Look at who's talking. You have any idea how long you've been passed out? What time is it anyway?" she turned her head to glance out the window, noticing that the sky was turning dark outside.

"It's past five," said Lincoln. "I put some hot water on the stove, thinking I'd make us some tea, if you're interested."

Michelle smiled at him. "I am if you are."

They left the room and headed in the direction of the kitchen. Michelle asked about Monique and Lincoln told her she was asleep in her room. She stopped to look inside her room and smiled at the sight of her daughter dozing. Closing back the door, they went into the kitchen where the kitchen had begun steaming out its spout. 

Michelle wanted to set things up but Lincoln told her to sit instead while he got things done. She watched as he looked inside cupboards and drawers till he found the set of mugs and tea bags. He was looking miraculously healthy unlike how he'd been earlier. She didn't know if it was the drugs she'd given him earlier or if this was just the way it often was—a self-deceiving calm before the storm. 

"Thanks. How're you feeling right now, Linc?" she asked as he laid her cup of tea before her.

"I bit fine for now. Don't know when the next attack's going to come around, or how it's going to be like, but I'm feeling a bit better right now. I owe it all to you, my love."

"You owe me nothing, Linc."

"One thing I've never forgotten about you is how polite you often are when it comes to taking credit for something."

"Force of habit, I guess."

Lincoln filled his own mug and came and sat beside her. She held his hand while they sipped their tea, neither of them saying anything. Merely taking comfort in the silence and how in each other's presence. When she turned to look at him, she noticed a sad look on his face and he was staring down into his cup, at the swirling sea that was his tea.

"What's wrong, Linc?"

"Nothing serious," he said. "There's something I want you to do for me, Mich."

"What about?"

"It's something I've been thinking about for a while now. I don't know how else to say it to you without you taking it the other way around ... except it's the way it is."

"Whatever it is, Linc, we'll get through it together. We're strong together."

"That's what I need to talk to you about, Mich." He turned to stare at her. "We don't have much time left. Or rather, I don't have much time left. I'm going to be dead weeks or even days from now; the chances of us spending Christmas together is far-fetched, darling."

"What do you want me to do, Linc? Get you some more drugs?"

He shook his head. "All that's never going to stop the clock from ticking, babe. It's nothing you or anyone but God can do to change things. And He's got His hands full to think about saving my black hide."

"Don't blaspheme, Linc. I told you before that it don't matter what, I'm going to be with you through the end of this. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know you aren't, babe. And that's why I wanted us to have this talk before things get worse. The thing is it's alright, Mich. I've accepted what I've got and to live with it through the end. But what I want is for you not to go on killing yourself for me. I want you to live, babe. I want you to keep on being the good woman you are ... the good mother I know you are."

Michelle was unprepared to hearing him say this to her and didn't know how well to take it. She felt hurt inside hearing him talk about himself dying ... and what was most painful about was that it was true. He'd lost a lot of weight and looked emaciated from the disease and knew it was only a matter of time—days or even weeks—when he would be here no more. How was she going to be able to stomach that when the day comes eventually? Nothing she could do about that. All that remained was to stem down the inevitable.

"Please, Linc. I know it's hard for you—it's hard for me, too—but I'm begging you not to give up on me just yet. There's got to be a way to fight this thing." She could feel the tears coming to her eyes and tried fighting it back, but it wouldn't go away. "Please ... don't give up on me just yet. I need you to hang in there for a while. I'll go to the hospital tomorrow and see if I can get in touch with some specialist—"

"It's not going to do any good, Mich!" he said heatedly, making Michelle flinch. Right away he regretted speaking to her like that and apologised for it. "There's nothing either you or doctors, or the so-called specialists you're talking about can do, Mich. This is just the way it is—I've got AIDS, and I'm going to die for it. Simple as that. I just don't want you worrying too much about it anymore."

"Well, what would you expect me to do, Linc," she snapped back. "You want me to just sit back with my arms folded across my chest and watch you have another panic attack and then die? Is that what you want me to do?"

"I didn't say that, Mich. You're helping me to stay alive much longer, and I'm forever grateful to you for it. I just don't want to see you suffering too much anymore. You've been like a mother hen since I got here, and you haven't been sleeping at all. It's taking a toil on you, and I can't have that. I'll bet too that Monique wouldn't want that."

"But this isn't about Monique, Linc. This is about you."

"You're wrong, Mich. It isn't just about me anymore, but rather the three of us. You've got to move on without me. You've been doing that ever since I ran out on you, but then circumstances weren't what they now are. You're going to have to adjust your mind to that again once my time comes."

Michelle looked at him, saw how serious he was, and knew there was no arguing with him anymore. In a way she was already tired of arguing, but was reluctant to throw in the towel so early. She sniffled and wiped off the tears in her eyes.

"Back then, I thought I'd lost you, Linc. Sometimes I actually felt like I'd lost you. That maybe you've gone and found someone else who was taking even better care of you than I was and that I—I mean we, myself and Monique—weren't going to see you again. Whoever would have thought that things would become like this."

Lincoln drew her towards him, holding her head against his chest and patting her shoulder while she emptied out her tears.

"It's alright, babe; it's okay. Everything's going to be just fine."

"How, Linc? How is everything going to be just fine when you're practically on Death's bed right now?"

Lincoln seemed to recoil from that. Michelle saw the hurt look on his face and reached for his arm.

"That was rude of me, I'm sorry. But you're scaring me, Linc. I don't know what my life will be like when you're no longer around."

Lincoln pulled her towards him and embraced her. "You're a strong woman, Mich. You will go on, I know this. I just want you to be ready when it happens."

"Monique is going to miss you more than me, you know that."

"I know. Even now I'm missing her already. Now's the time when you need to be strong ... and happy. I don't want you spending all your waking hours grieving over me. I want you to seriously try and be happy once again. Do you think you can do that for me?"

"I'll try, Linc. I can't give you any promises other than that."

"It'll do for now," he said and kissed her forehead.

* * * *

Trouble was waiting for Shanice and Eric by the time they arrived at Shanice's apartment, and it came in the form of Shanice's ex, Chris. 

Chris had spent the last hour waiting outside Shanice's door expecting her to show any minute. Since she no longer too his calls, and he couldn't stop by the Deli where she worked on account of her boss kicking him out last time, this was his only option. He needed to have a serious talk with her. He'd just about had enough of her foolish games and it was time they put an end to it. Stupid bitch just don't know when to quit when told to. But that's no problem; it was high time he taught her some manners to that mouth of hers. Frustrated with sitting outside her stoop under the sun waiting, Chris had done the next best thing—he'd broken into her apartment. He made his way into her den, went into her bedroom and peeked first into her drawers then her closet. He tried to recall the last time he'd been in here how it had been, if she'd made any new changes to her wardrobe or not. Apparently she had. He could only surmise that it was on account of that silly white boy she's been seeing. No problem, he thought. They were going to have themselves a long conversation about that. 

He pulled a chair to her bedroom doorway and lounged back to wait.

* * * *

Shanice and Eric arrived at her apartment building twenty-six minutes after Chris had broken inside. They were both in a jolly mood as they'd reconciled with each other, feeling ten-times more relaxed with each other's company than before. 

Eric parked his car and together they came up the stairs to her building. Shanice was fumbling in her pocket to unearth her house key when her shoulder brushed against her door. The smile that had been on her face vanished when her door came open before her. 

"Eric ..." she indicated her open door to him. He too stopped laughing.

"Stand back," he said to her as he cautiously made his way into her apartment. 

They expected to find the place turned out but the opposite was the case—everything was as it was when she'd left in the morning. 

"Is anyone in here?" Shanice called out, feeling a bit frightened.

* * * *

"Is anyone in here?"

Chris' eyes came wide open upon hearing what sounded like Shanice. He'd been having himself a light doze while he waited. His attention became alert when he heard Shanice voice call out; he cursed himself for leaving her door open after he'd jimmied the lock. He got up from the chair and came out of the bedroom with the intent of surprise.

He wasn't expecting to meet Shanice with her white boy. Both men's eyes came open as they took in each other. 

"Chris?" said Eric.

Shanice too was just as surprised to see him inside her apartment. Eric tried to hold her back but she pushed his arm aside, seething with anger. "Chris, what the hell are you doing in here?"

"We've got some talking to do, Shanice. You and I alone."

"How did you get in, anyway, you bastard?"

"I've got a think for picking locks. And I wouldn't be calling me names if I were you. And I see you're still hanging out with this white boy fool."

"I'd be thinking about clearing your ass out of here if I were you, Chris," said Eric. "Looks like you've worn your welcome a long time ago."

Chris switched his gaze at him, his eyes turned fiery. "I told you before to stop messing with me, didn't I, white boy? Well, I guess it's about time I taught you a lesson or two." He reached behind his jacket and pulled out a switch blade, grinning while he did. "It's been about a while since last time I carved something on a guy's chest."

Shanice made the mistake of approaching him. "Chris, what in God's name are y—"

Chris swung his right fist and caught her across her cheek with his back hand. Shanice cried out from the pain and fell to the floor. Eric saw what was happening a second before he tried stopping Shanice from approaching Chris and watched as she fell on the centre table, nearly banging her head on the glass menagerie that was on it. Chris, seeing he was distracted, passed the switch blade to his right hand and swung it at him. Eric had time to jump backward; the blade tore a flap of his shirt. 

"I'm gonna gut you so bad, white boy," Chris grinned as he inched towards him. "When I'm done with your ass, then I'm gonna come back for her."

"I'm going to have to get through me first to do that," said Eric. He was carefully gagging the distance between Chris and his blade. His eyes darted either side, trying to spot anything hard and strong he could use for a weapon. 

Chris jumped forward, feigned with his left hand which was curled into a fist, and then sliced the air with his switch blade. Eric saw the feint coming and smartly moved to his left in time as Chris's blade came at him. They circled each other like a pair of combating fighters. Eric glanced at Shanice and saw that she was hugging her face where she'd been smacked. That was a mistake. Chris too saw his eyes move in her direction and saw an opening. He rushed at Eric, holding the switch blade aslant. 

The blade tore through the left arm of Eric's shirt, leaving a trail of torn shirt and blood, a second before Chris slammed his body into him. Eric cried from the pain, but that was the least of his worries as he and Chris tumbled to the ground. He drove a knee up Chris's mid-section, making him grunt from the pain, and then concentrated on wrestling the blade from his grip. Both men struggled and fought against each other, their legs and arms entangled as each one tried to overpower the other. Chris punched Eric's wound, making him cry out, while at the same time tried to keep his hold on the blade. Eric brought his right arm over his neck and turned him over with all the strength he could muster. Chris was deflected by this. Eric, seeing his grip on the blade now had lessened, slammed his other arm's elbow on his face. It was Chris's turn to yell from the punch, and the blade in turn fell from his hand next to Eric's ear. Eric gave him another elbow punch before pushing his bulk off him and turned over to reach for the blade's handle. 

Chris was quick to recover, getting up to his knee, his hand massaging the spot close to his clavicle bone where Eric's elbow had made repeated contact. At the same time Eric now had the switch blade and was rising to his feet. Chris saw things weren't in his favour anymore but not ready to give up yet, made a flying tackle at his enemy. Once again, both men toppled over the furniture and then fell over it. Shanice came from behind Chris who was struggling to get the switch blade from Eric's grasp, and smashed the glass menagerie over his head. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, sounding like a bomb going off, and the sound of it shattering echoed along with Chris yelling from the pain. Eric raised his hand to protect his face from the flying debris of glass. Somehow the blade got knocked off his hand. Shanice pounced on Chris, scratching her fingers over his face while Eric tried to turn around to find where the blade had gone. Chris pushed Shanice off him, his face was now a bloody mess from the crystal shards of glass that had sliced his skin, and growled as he reached for Eric's leg.

"Get off him, you bastard!" screamed Shanice, who once again jumped on Chris. 

Chris was distracted and instead of still holding onto Eric, he turned his attention to Shanice. Eric got hold of the switch blade at the same time that Chris gave Shanice another hard smack at the same time kicked her off him. Eric saw it happen and was enraged at what he saw. He came at Chris and swung a fist at his jaw. The punch connected; Chris's head wobbled from the punch and blood gushed out of his nostrils. Eric held him by the collar of his jacket and ploughed his fist once more at his face a second time ... and then a third. He was screaming while he did it, but was unaware of it. All that was on his mind was beating Chris to a pulp who hurting his woman. Chris fell to the ground and Eric fell on top of his too, still pounding his face. He didn't know when over people came into the apartment and began pulling him. He was still screaming with rage even as they fought to pry him loose from Chris. One of them was yelling into his ear but he wasn't listening. Then someone locked an arm across his neck and held his head in a vice-like grip. Eric's screaming fit turned into mumbled sputtering; he kicked his legs out frantically, trying to squirm free from the hold he was in. Spite filled his mouth and he felt as if he were choking on it ... he felt like he was drowning. He tried to fight the grip that held him but couldn't. His arms were becoming weak. His fear was that somehow Chris's pals had heard him kicking their friend's ass and had come to his rescue. In a second they would be waking Chris up to have a go at him ... and he would succeed this time.




Brown Eyes, Blue Smile Ch. 08



"Noo ... nooo ..." he muttered over and over.

His eye lids were becoming heavy, and so was his breathing. He was choking on his own vomit. He was drowning ...

Less than a minute later he gave in to the flood and passed out in blackness. 

* * * *

He was in a different world when his eyes came back awake. Everything around him was white ... including the clothes he was wearing, and for a brief moment he got scared thinking he'd died and gone to meet the Man. He was lying on a bed with the sheets up to his chest staring up at the white square boards of a ceiling. He looked forward at his feet sticking like twin tent poles from underneath the bed sheets. He flexed his muscles and saw them move and was momentarily happy for that; he doubt if they would have moved had he actually been dead. It came to him then that he was in a hospital. How had he gotten here?

He tried to sit up and groaned when he felt a throbbing pain in left arm and saw the thick wraparound bandage that was there ... then he remembered how he'd gotten it. 

Chris. Where the fuck was he?

He tried to sit up again, grunting from the pain in his arm while he attempted it and just then there came approaching feet. He turned to his right—he hadn't noticed the visitor that was in the room with him. He recognised her right away from the weak smile that came to her face as she approached his bed to help him sit up. She looked just as pretty as the last time he'd been with her ... except now she was spotting a dark bruised spot beneath her right chin where her former lover had hit her while they'd fought in her apartment. The bastard.

"Hey there," Shanice said as she picked up a lever that was beside his bed and pressed a button which then elevated his bed for him to sit upright. "How's my hero doing?"

"Like I just went ten rounds with Ali and lost," he said.

"Well, trust me when I say this, Ali wouldn't have equalled what you did." She caressed his face. "You were my dragon slayer."

"Yeah right, and look at the beating you and I both had. Where's he anyway?"

"Chris? Right now he's cooling off in a room down the corridor from yours, with a cop watching over him. You really roughed him up, you know."

"That'll teach him to lay his hands on my girl next time. A good thing his friends came in and held me back, or he'd be dead."

Shanice looked at him. "What friends?"

"You know ... the ones who held be back. I remember hitting him and then someone came and held me back ... I couldn't breathe and that was when I sort of passed out and woke up in here."

She laughed. "Those weren't his friends, it was the cops. It seems my neighbours heard the raucous that was going on and called the cops. It was them who held up back. You were still struggling with them when they did."

"No kidding. They ain't going to press charges, are they?"

"I don't think so." She leaned closer and kissed him. "You saved my life, Eric. I'm so happy I found you again."

"You never lost me; I was always around for you."

"Let's hope I don't get to lose you again."

"Don't you worry, I'm going to start hitting the gym once I'm out of here," he laughed.

"Michelle is here too," she said. "She brought in Lincoln some hours ago."

"How's he doing?"

She shook her head, her face turning sad. "Not good. He's in the terminal wing, in the next corridor. He had a seizure attack a couple of minutes ago, but he's sleeping now. Michelle has been crying her eyes out all day."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Give her my condolences."

"I will, but now you've got to rest yourself." 

She got up from the bed, leaned forward and gave him another kiss, a lengthy one this time. "Doctor said you'll be out of here in a day or two. I'll be back tomorrow; I've got to go put this chin of mine to rest."

"Yeah, you do that." He held her hand, reluctant to let go of it. "I love you, Shanice."

"I love you too, Eric."

He gave her back her hand and waved to her as she turned and left his room.

The bedside clock on top of his drawer told him it was 9:45 P.M. 

Eric had long been fed dinner and the nurse had stopped by to check his temperature as well as see how well his wound was healing more than an hour ago before leaving him alone. He had tried to fall asleep but that eluded him. He felt like taking a walk. He'd asked permission from the nurse if it was alright for him to walk around just to exercise his legs a little bit. She'd told him to wait till about nine, by then activities in the hospital would have ebbed down somewhat, but also for him not to go about disturbing any of the other patients. He'd promised he wouldn't. It was way past the hour already, but he'd opted to sit back and wait till it was ten before he began his walking exercise. He shut his eyes for a while and when he opened them and checked what the time now was, the bedside clock was telling him 9:57 P.M. That should just about do it, he thought to himself as he pushed his legs out of the thick bed sheets for the first time since he'd woken up and found himself inside it. His wounded arm wasn't hurting much anymore. He gave the arm a couple of flexes just to test it. He went into the small restroom beside his bedroom to look himself in the mirror. His hair was looking messed up, and he saw that he too had a purple bruise on his right cheek; battle scars, he muttered to himself as he turned on the water faucet in the sink and washed his face with it. Done with cleaning his face, he headed for his bedroom's door which opened out to the hospital corridor. Shanice had indicated the room where Chris was being held up was to his left. He didn't plan on taking that route, instead he turned to his right, in search of the terminal suite.

One or two nurses passed him along the way though neither made any attempt at stopping him or enquiring where he was headed to—he wasn't looking sick or like he was in pain or anything. He did ask one of them the corridor that housed the terminally ill, saying he had a friend who was sick in there and she pointed him in the right direction. It didn't take long for him to find Lincoln's room. He had it all to himself, and from the suffering he was under that was understandable.

Lincoln's room door stood open. Eric would have knocked, but from the look of things, it didn't seem necessary, instead he walked inside on light foot. Eric at first couldn't tell if he was dead already or lying comatose. Lincoln's eyes were closed but he had a dozen tubes attached to his body which in turn were connected to a life-reading machine beside him that was monitoring his pulse, body temp, and whatever else Eric could think of. Eric observed the machines with care, nothing especially the one that monitored his heart rate and knew he was alive ... at least for now. He was looking emaciated; Eric wondered how the rest of his body would look like under those thick bed sheets. He stood there staring at him for a moment and then turned around to leave. He was almost at the door when he heard a light coughing sound. He turned around and there was Lincoln, his eyes slowly coming as he had himself a coughing fit. Eric was immediately alarmed and would have hurried out in search of a nurse but then Lincoln called out to him, his voice sounding hoarse and dry like someone who'd been out in the desert for long without water.

"Hey ... you going so early?" asked Lincoln.

Eric closed the room's door and returned to his bedside. He saw a chair and pulled it closer to the bed and sat down.

"I'm sorry, I thought maybe you were having some episode of a seizure or something."

Lincoln gave a weak laugh. "Them seizures ain't nothing compared to the way I'm feeling right now."

"How are you feeling?" Eric asked.

"You want to know?"

Eric nodded.

"I feel like I'm dying, that's what I feel. Sometimes I can't feel my feet anymore and other times things just become blurry." He gasped for a moment before continuing. "I'm going to die pretty soon, I know that. Just lying here with my eyes closed wondering what heaven's going to be like ... if really my black ass gets there."

"What makes you think your black ass won't get there?"

Lincoln turned his head to look at him, and both of them burst into laughter. 

"That felt good," muttered Lincoln after his laughter had tempered away. "Oh well, I guess the Lord will show some mercy on me when my ass—my black ass—gets there. I ain't done nothing except hurt the ones that loved me. This is my penance I'm living." He turned to look at him again. "You're Shanice's man, ain't you?"

"Yes, I am. My name's Eric."

"Lincoln's mine. It's a shame we're meeting like this, ain't it?"

"We ought to be having ourselves a round of beers," said Eric.

Lincoln chuckled. "Yeah, and I ought to be taking care of my little girl right about now instead of lying here dying."

Eric didn't know what to say to that.

"I'm sorry," said Lincoln. "I didn't mean to sound stupid."

"You weren't sounding any way near that. What's happening to you could happen to anyone."

"Yeah ... except I chose to be the lucky one. I was foolish and reckless then, but I'm glad I never passed it on to my woman, Michelle, or my little girl, Monique." He turned towards Eric and pointed a finger at the closet door behind him. "Mind doing me a favour, go look in that closet ... my jean's back pocket ... fish out my wallet for me."

Eric got up and did as he told him to. He found his wallet and brought it back to him. Lincoln told him to look inside one of the side pockets. Eric found a passport snapshot of a black girl grinning back at him. 

"That's my little girl," said Lincoln. "That was before I ran off from her and her mom."

Eric passed the snapshot to him. "She's beautiful."

Lincoln took the photograph, smiling at Monique's features. "Yeah, she really is. So many things I'd like to say to her, but I can't. Time can be a cruel thing, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I've got a little girl too whom I haven't been with in a long while. Once I get out of here, I'm going to see about getting her back in my life."

"You and Shanice ... you know she likes you a lot. You taking good care of her?"

"It's all I want to do right now."

"Yeah, I know you will. She's a good girl, just like Michelle." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I know I'm not going to see the world outside these walls anymore. The next seizure's going to be my last—I hope it will be the last—when you get out of here, I want you to tell Michelle and my little girl, Monique, tell them how much I love them both ... and that I'm very sorry for putting them through this. Will you do that for me?"

Eric nodded. "I will tell them."

Lincoln raised a feeble hand towards him. Eric took his hand and shook it. There was no warmth in Lincoln's hand—it was as cold as ice.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Lincoln," said Eric.

"It sure would have been nice if we'd had those beers," said Lincoln.

"Yeah, it sure would have been. You take care of yourself."

"Amen, brother," muttered Lincoln, placing his daughter's snapshot of his chest, closing his eyes. "Amen to that."

Eric's eyes were welling up with tears. He turned around quickly and let Lincoln to his fate. He was crying by the time he got back to his room.

* * * *

There were church bells ringing in the distance. Somewhere behind them they could hear a mother wailing at a child—son or daughter, neither of them knew—she won't get to see anymore. They could tell it was a child from the way the woman pushed herself from the arms of comforters and fell to her knees to hug the gravestone that was being erected on the plot of dug-out earth that would become the permanent resting place to whomever it was she was crying about. 

For Eric and Shanice, no words could exchange how they too were feeling this cold Sunday morning a month later as they turned their heads away from the wailing mother to watch the rest of the funeral proceedings that marked the inevitable end of their friend, Lincoln DeGoines. They were all dressed in black with sombre faces listening to the preacher give a lengthy eulogy beside Lincoln's coffin; Michelle stood beside the pastor holding Monique with one hand while her other dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Shanice too had been crying since the day—two nights after Eric last conversed with him—when Michelle called to let her known Linc was gone, and was now officially all out of tears. Gloria too was wearing a black dress and stood between them, holding a rose flower in her hand. There were a few other family members gathered there; Michelle didn't bother shaking hands with most of them when they arrived. Hardly any of them had cared to know how their son was faring while he'd been alive and suffering. The preacher said the last words and then everything was over. Gloria went forward and laid the flower she had on the coffin's surface. Others too who'd come with flowers did the same before turning around and filing away. 

Shanice went over to speak with her friend. "How're you doing, Mich?"

Michelle wiped tears off her eyes. "I'm hanging tough. I'm glad you and Eric came."

"Wouldn't have missed none of it for the world. Are you going to be alright?"

Michelle sighed. "I don't know." She turned to look at the coffin which was then being lowered into the grave. "It's going to be hard knowing he's not around anymore. But I guess I'll manage. He's in a better place now."

"I'm so sorry, Mich."

Both women hugged each other before saying goodbyes, promising to meet later. Eric went and took Shanice's hand and together they strolled away from the gravesite with Gloria walking in front of them.

"I wonder if anyone's going to remember me when my time comes," said Shanice.

"I'll remember you," said Eric.

That seemed to reassure her. "Sure you would. How're you doing about Gloria and her mother?"

"The judge is going to make a ruling next week. I can't tell yet whether it'll be in my favour or not, but my lawyer says I've got a winning chance as it's obvious Tara's an unfit mother. We'll just have to wait and see."

"She's going to fight you tooth and nail, you know that."

He nodded. "Yes, I know. But I'm not afraid like I once used to before. As long as I've got you."

She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. They were soon approaching the entrance gate to the cemetery; Gloria was already ahead, standing beside their parked car.

"Tell me something, Eric."

"What, darling?"

"Do you think there's really going to be a place for us in this world?"

They both came to a stop, gazing into each other's eyes.

"Yes, there is a place," said Eric. "And even if there isn't, we're going to make ourselves one."

"Do you think I'll make a good mother?"

"I think you'll make an excellent mother." He reached for her hand, rubbing his finger over the engagement ring she was sporting. "And an excellent wife, too."

"I love you, Eric," she leaned forward and kissed him.

"This is me loving you, too," he said.

Still holding hands, they made their way out of the cemetery, towards a life that waited for them.

The End