Chapter FiveMom’s got the day off. She’s going out to Tutu to buy a new TV and offers to buy me lunch if I come with her and be the muscle.
“OK, but I don’t want any fast food. I want some real West Indian food. Is it the right season to get Kallaloo?”
“No, but we’ll go to Johnny Mango’s. It’s about as good as you’ll find for West Indian food, outside of a cookout in Bovoni. They make a blackened grouper that’s just to die for. Now, did you bring any CDs of your band? I still haven’t gotten to hear that yet, honey, so bring it with and we can play it while we’re driving.”
“Uhh…I think I forgot to bring any of our CDs…”
That’s an outright lie, but I’m sick to death of listening to any reminders of my past life as a not-quite-a-Rock Star. I’ll leave one on the kitchen counter the day I leave. Hell, it’s not like my mom is really into thrash-punk anyway, she’s just trying to make up for having called me a total of 20 or so times in the last 9 years, and this is her way of feigning interest in my life. It’s cool. We pull out of the driveway and head towards Four Corners, where we make the turn to go over the hill through Bovoni and into Tutu.
As it turns out, my mom really likes Swollen Members. Weird. We come out of Bovoni and turn into the Fort Mylner plaza on the edge of Tutu. What. The. Fuck. There is a goddamned PriceSavers on St. Thomas. I bring this hideous yet undeniable fact to my mom’s attention.
“Oh yes…there’s a K-Mart and a Home Depot over between the hospital and Four Winds plaza. They’ve really built this area up. You know we have a mall now?”
“A mall…”
“Oh yes…I mean, it’s probably not quite as big as what you’re used to in the states, but it’s an honest-to-goodness mall. We’ll drive by it while we’re here.”
It occurs to me that the phrase “honest-to-goodness” might be the least appropriate thing to call a shopping mall that I’ve ever heard.
“No, that’s OK. I’d really rather NOT see it, actually. Let’s go get this TV so we can get lunch. At least they can’t screw that up for me.”
We get the TV loaded in the back of the Samurai and head over to Johnny Mango’s. I’m immediately skeptical. I’ve been promised authentic West Indian food, but this place is spotlessly clean. NOT a good sign. I grab a Carib Lager out of the cooler and start checking out the food. It’s set up cafeteria-style. Start at one end, pick your salads and sides, move down to starches, then entrees, then pay for it all and schlep your tray to an unoccupied table or booth, trying to avoid accidentally bumping into any of the numerous young Dreds in the place who look like they’d be more than happy to shank a white boy with little or no provocation. I slide into the line. As I’m staring at the rice and beans, an angelic voice interrupts me.
“Cole slaw or salad?”
“Huh?” “Would you like cole slaw or salad?”
“Uhh…cole slaw…and I’ll take some of the fried plantains, and johnny cake too.”
I look up to see the source of the voice. This is what Mos Def means when he talks about Nubian Princesses. This girl is tall, lithe, black as night, and incredibly beautiful. I snap into pimp mode instantly. She snaps me out of it with the most brutal shooting down that has ever been directed at me. Pasty white boys get no love around here.
“Chicken, brisket, or grouper?”
“Grouper. And slop some extra sauce on that rice for me…I like it saucy.”
That, at least, gets a raised eyebrow. She finishes dishing up my breakfast.
“Thanks sweetheart. And if you change your mind about going out with a honky, you can find me at Offshore tonight. I can dance like I’m black, you know.”
She’s laughing at me softly as I walk over to a table. I figure that leaving her laughing is better than not having attracted her attention in the first place. My mom was right, the food is excellent. I eat until I can not physically fit anything more in my mouth, wash it down with another Carib, and we’re out. We stop in town on the way back to the NorthSide so I can buy some souvenirs for people, then up the hill and back home. My stepdad has a spliff waiting for me. We blaze up for a bit, then the combination of the pot and the food overtakes me, and I hit the couch for a nap.
The ringing phone wakes me up around 5pm.
“Hello?”
“J! It’s Cuz. You still comin’ out to Offshore wit’ me tonight, right? It’s ladies night, bro…gonna be tons of hotties there.”
“Yeah, yeah…listen, I just woke up. Gimme some time to shower and get ready and all that.”
“Fuck that, J. I’m pulling into the driveway now. Grab your clothes and all that stuff. You can take a shower at my place. We’ve got some shit to talk about before we go out tonight.”
I think about protesting, but the sound of the Mustang tearing up the driveway puts a stop to that idea. I grab some fresh clothes and my pit stick and toothbrush and jump in.
“Damn, Cuz…little early to be worried about getting to the club, isn’t it? Or do we have to go conduct some more shady business?”
“Nah, man, it ain’t like that. But if we go out, we’ll probably run into Danny’s boys, and maybe even Malik’s boys. I just want to make sure you’re ready for that and that you and I are on the same page, bro. We’ve had each other’s backs this far, it’d be a bad time for either one of us to quit out.”
“It’s cool. I wasn’t trying to bust your balls, either. It was an honest question. About conducting business, I mean. Hey, don’t let me forget, before we go out I have to call this girl. I used to work with her in Seattle and I guess she moved down here about a month ago. Doesn’t know anyone down here, been bored for the last month, and she’s smoking hot. I was always trying to get with her when we worked together, but she had a serious boyfriend. Now she doesn’t, and she wants me to take her out while I’m down here.”
“Damn, bro. What’s Hannah going to think about that?”
“I have no idea. Good thing it’s not really up to her, huh? Last I checked, hooking up with someone for the first time in ten years did not constitute an agreement of mutual exclusivity.”
“Mutu-wha?”
“Never mind. Hannah’s my problem. Your problem is helping to make sure we can keep each other from taking a slug in the back.”
We get to his apartment. He’s on the NorthSide, just a little higher up Crown Mountain than my mom’s house. Hell of a view, too. I hop in the shower, put on my good threads, fix my hair, and manage to make myself look like something that won’t repulse the ladies at first sight.
Who am I kidding? I am dead sexy. If the ladies don’t fall under my spell tonight, it’s time to consider life in a monastery. We hash out some basic plans to ensure our continued ability to draw breath, hop in the ‘Stang, and head to the Old Mill for a little pre-game.
“Oh, by the way, J, I got you a present.”
“A present? Man, you didn’t need to do that.”
“Yes I did. Reach under your seat.”
I feel around on the floor until my hand closes over a familiar shape.
“Man, you really think I’m going to need this?”
“No, but I’ll feel a hell of a lot better if you have it and don’t need it than I will if you need it and don’t have it. Look, J, I got you involved in some shit that you have no business being involved in, and I’m sorry for that. But you maybe saved my life the other night, and besides, you’re my big brother. If you’re gonna come to a bad end, bro, it’s not gonna happen while you’re rollin’ with me.”
“Alright. Fair enough. What’s this thing hold, anyway?”
“Fifteen in the clip, one in the hole, and yes, it’s already chambered so be careful.”
“No worries, Cuz. If I have to use this thing, careful will have long since gone by the wayside.”
We pull into the parking lot of The Old Mill. By the time I get halfway to the bar, Jake has a Henny and Cran waiting for me, along with a message.
“Here you go, bro. On the house. You boys sticking around or you headed over to Offshore later?”
“Offshore. Cuz tells me it’s ladies night.”
“Ha ha ha…yeah, it sure is, man. Hey, I’m supposed to give you a message from Hannah.”
“Oh?”
“She says she has to work tonight cuz she’s covering for some girl who’s sick, but she’ll either call you when she gets off work at 2, or she’ll call you when she gets up tomorrow. I guess she’s got the whole day off. Wonder what she’s got in mind?”
I can’t help but like this kid. He’s got one of those infectious smiles, and a manner that makes you automatically assume that he’s just a good guy. Whether he actually is or not is irrelevant. The kid just radiates charisma. He’d do well to move to LA.
“Hey, I’m just about to head to the back room for my ‘dinner break’, if you know what I mean. You wanna come?”
“Nah, not tonight, man. I mean, I appreciate the offer, but I don’t wanna peak too early tonight, you know?”
“I hear you, man. I hear you. Well, I might see you guys later. I’m probably having a little after-party at my place, so I’ll swing through Offshore and see what the scene looks like.”
“Cool, man. Holla at us later, then.”
Cuz and I finish our drinks, grab two for the road, and head to Betsey’s to meet up with Scott, Drew, and Timmy. After a few more drinks at Betsey’s, the posse all gets up to leave. We pull out of Frenchtown and turn right. 5 young men, dressed to the nines, all riding in tricked-out cars, all high on the possibilities of life in Paradise.
All less than 2 hours from having the entire world turned upside down on them. As we pulled into the parking lot of Offshore, I felt the nervous energy rise in my gut, like how you used to feel for the couple of hours between the time you received a not-so-good report card from school and the time your parents got home from work to see it. Walking past the bouncers at the front door, my eyes slowly adjusted to the nearly pitch-blackness of the inside of the club.
The first thing I saw when my focus came back was Danny, eyeing me with a cell-phone pressed to his ear.
Chapter 6
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