Black Buck(44)

“YESSSSSSS!” they all shouted.

“Now you’re one of us,” Clyde said, patting my back. “Welcome to Sumwun.”

One beer led to two, and two led to beer pong, and beer pong led to shots of tequila with salt on my hands and lime wedges in my mouth, which led to me stumbling out of 3 Park Avenue and Rhett pulling me into a black Escalade, and saying, “Buck rides with us.” Chris, Clyde, Porschia, and two women I’d never met were already inside.

The Escalade took us to the Meatpacking District, right near the Hudson. We hopped out, plumes of smoke slowly rolling around us like magicians appearing out of thin air—except these magicians were high out of their minds and trashed. Including me.

Before we entered the club, I took my phone out to check the time, but Rhett grabbed and pocketed it. “No you don’t. No phones, ever. We’re celebrating, Buck, and we don’t want to worry about anything going up on social media. You get it, right?”

I nodded, drunk. The line in front of us stretched around the block: guys dressed in crisp white shirts and slim-fitting blazers; women wearing dresses and heels, exposing a healthy amount of ass cheek.

Rhett walked to the head of the line and spoke with the bouncer, who then let us in along with the other Sumwunners piling out of taxis, Ubers, and Lyfts behind us. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Like we were celebrities or some shit.

A hostess showed us to a section in the back, and people—bottle girls, random guys, some of the models from the line—swarmed us. Someone handed me a screwdriver that burned going down my throat. The music, the people, all of it was making my head spin. Rhett pulled me onto a leather couch.

“What do you see, Buck?” he asked. Blue and indigo lights flashed around us. It felt like an underwater dream.

I saw Porschia grinding on Clyde, Frodo and Marissa locking lips, Eddie and some guy holding hands. “I don’t even know, man,” I said, my eyes feeling heavier. “This is all some wild shit.”

“This is the life you were made for, Buck. People who are smart,” he said, touching my temple, “and work hard don’t deserve to grind day in and day out at a place like Starbucks. They, you, deserve to have it all. And I promise that this is only the beginning. Do you believe now?” he asked, staring at me with half-closed eyes. “Do you believe that you’re one of us?”

“I am”—the was room spinning now—“a believer, Rhett. I am.”

“Good.”

I got up and pushed my way through the crowd. “Where’s the bathroom?” I asked a bouncer brandishing a metallic flashlight as if it were a baton. He nodded down a hallway, and I stumbled into the room.

My knees dropped, and I hurled all of the beer, tequila, orange juice, greasy food, and everything else into the toilet. It kept coming till I was heaving just air into the bowl. The last thing I remembered was washing my mouth out and grabbing a towel, then, I don’t know how much later, there was banging on the door.

“Open up!” someone screamed. It sounded like the bouncer.

Damn, this guy bangs harder than Ma. Wait. Ma. Soraya. Panic wrapped its arms around me and squeezed.

Ripping the door open, I sidestepped the bouncer and pushed my way through the crowd. “Hey, watch it, motherfucker!” someone shouted.

When I got to our table, I saw Rhett speaking with Clyde and Porschia. “Buck, my man!” he said, reaching out. “Where have you been? We were just talking about you. Sit, sit. You okay?”

“My phone,” I said, sobering up.

“What?”

“Give me my phone! Please!”

He fumbled around in his pocket and handed it over. “Fine, but no photos. Remember.”

The seconds it took to turn on felt like eons. The time. It was no longer six or seven like it was back in the office. Time, with a mind of its own, had crept all the way to one in the morning. I looked around the club, trying to figure out where the hours, minutes, and seconds had gone.

Then a hard shiver in my hand turned into a full-blown seizure. Three missed calls from Ma, eight from Soraya. Two voice mails from Ma. Five from Soraya. Ten texts total.

From Ma:

Hey Dar, puttin the finishin touches on your celebration meal!



Dar, youre probably still busy at work. Its 8:30 now so text or call to let us know how late youll be.



Baby you okay? We havent heard from you in a while and its 9:30 now. Everyones hungry. Mr. Rawlings and Soraya have been waiting for you.



PLEASE CALL ME BACK ONCE YOU SEE THIS. It’s midnight and Soraya and Mr. Rawlings are gone. Everyone left already, but Im worried. This isn’t like you.





From Soraya:

I hope your day went well, D! Can’t wait to see you later.



It’s 8:15 and you’re late, MISTER! You better be on the train. Mr. Rawlings is about to do some voodoo on you if he doesn’t get his hands on some of this chili soon.



D? Where are you? Why aren’t you answering any of our calls? Seriously?????



WHERE ARE YOU! I swear to god, if you’re in the hospital or something happened to you, I’m going to bring you back to life just so I can kill you for making us all worry.



This isn’t like you D. I hope you have a good excuse for this. Your mom is worried sick and crying.