Black Buck(17)



“Yes,” she said. “You will. And if you don’ promise me, we might as well break up right now.”

“Damn. Okay. I promise. Happy?”

Reader: Believing that you can somehow prevent change is the surest way to fail. Whether in life or sales, nothing ever stays the same.



“We’ll see,” she said, as she thrust her hips into mine. Soon, I no longer knew where her body began and mine ended.





6





My alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. I slapped my clock, hopped out of bed, and jumped into the shower. It was Monday, my first day of work. And I couldn’t be late.

Before leaving the office on Friday, Clyde told me that I had to be in at 7 a.m. sharp. “Is it cool if I’m a minute or two late?” I asked, hedging the fact that I couldn’t control subway delays or Greenpeace workers who just wanted “one minute” of my time.

“Of course, no problem,” he’d replied. Given how intense the place was, I was relieved they weren’t too militant.

I walked into the empty kitchen, grabbing a banana and a bowl of cereal. It was only 6 a.m., but I wanted to arrive early and make a good impression. So I scarfed down my Cap’n Crunch like a rabid beast and tossed the empty bowl into the sink.

Ma walked in sporting her pink terry-cloth robe, tight multicolored head wrap, and white slippers, a finger scratching the top of her head.

“You’re up early, Dar. Ready for your first day of work?”

“You know it, Ma. Can’t be late.”

She looked me up and down, and shook her head, laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

She swept her hand in front of me. “You look like a Mormon, son.”

I looked at my white short-sleeved button-up with two pens in the front pocket, black slacks with a black belt, and black leather shoes to match. Shit.

“But it was you who bought me these clothes last year!” I said, panicking. I couldn’t go to that office looking like a Mormon. They’d laugh me out the moment I walked in, probably telling me that I showed up for the wrong sales job, that church would be in session at eleven.

“Go get one of your plaid button-ups, denim jeans, and throw some clean runnin’ shoes on,” she ordered, as she turned the coffee maker on.

“Ma, I don’ think that’d look right.”

“Dar, from what I’ve read, it’s better to dress casually at these startups. If you come in lookin’ stiff, they’ll think you’re uptight. Trust me.”

I thought back to my visit on Friday and remembered seeing people rocking everything from holey hoodies and sneakers to starched slacks and sweaters. She was right, so I changed as quickly as I could.

“Thanks, Ma.” I kissed her forehead.

“Dar?”

“Yeah, Ma?”

“I’m proud of you, son. And I’m happy you’ve finally found somethin’ that makes you want more outta life. You have so much to give, and now’s the chance to show the world. I know your father would be happy too.”

Pressure. That’s all I felt. Not happiness from making Ma happy. Not a rush of excitement about my first day. What if it didn’t work out? What if I wasn’t who people thought I was? Who did people even think I was?

“Thanks, Ma. I’ll do my best,” I said, running out of the house.

6:15 a.m. Forty-five minutes to make it. If everything went right, it was doable. I jumped down the stairs, jogged down the street, turned right, and saw Mr. Aziz unlocking his store’s roll-up gate.

“Morning, Darren! Soraya tells me you’re starting a new job today,” he said, as I ran past him.

“Na’am, Mr. Aziz! Running late!”

“Go get ’em!”

I saw the gargoyles on the corner and figured that even though I was late I could give them a minute total just to say what up. Jason gave me a quick nod before turning away.

“No dap?” I asked, moving closer.

He pulled his hood lower and pushed his hand out.

“You good?”

He nodded, but I got closer. Under his hoodie, his face was swollen, red and glossy like a cheap Halloween mask. I pulled his hood off, exposing a blown-up eye, puffy cheeks, and a split lip. “Yo, J, what happened, man?”

“Get the fuck off me, B!” he yelled, shoving the shit out of me.

I walked back toward him, my hands raised. “C’mon, Batman. It’s me, bro. Talk to me.”

“Ain’ nothin’. Got robbed last night, so out here tryna make it back up for Malcolm.”

“Damn, J. I didn’ know you were messin’ with Malcolm, man. Shit’s dangerous.”

He hocked a loogie. You could hear it hitting the concrete.

“Why you think I’m out here this early? Gotta push this weight.”

“Weight? It used to jus’ be bud. Yo, you gotta get outta this shit ASAP. It’s only gonna end badly.”

“Whatever. The less you know the better, son. And I don’ need you out here tellin’ me what to do like you’re my daddy. Jus’ ’cause you gotta new job don’ mean shit.”

“Aight, man. But what’s your plan?”

“What’s my plan? I’m out here tryna be a man and get my momma out the projects, nigga. Tha’s the plan. Now please get the fuck up out my face, drawin’ all this attention so the jakes scoop me up.”

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