Fifty-Boy
14
Now That's Class
The room was over a bar. It was dark. The furnishings were out of date. There was a moldy seaside odor. But Cally seemed to like it. He flopped down on the bed, stretched back, crossed his legs, and said, "Ah..."
Once my eyes adjusted I could see him smiling at the ceiling. "Reach up, Jake, man, and turn on that fan."
Dust spun down on my head. He said, "Now that's class."
"There's a mattress up agains the other door, G."
"Shit, man, 'case you got guests. This lady I'm sending over might decide to stay, or bring a friend to help you outta' your clothes... Plus, gives you a bit a' security 'case somebody decides to try and push in on your party from the other room."
"Oh."
"Now look, I know what you're worryin' 'bout." He sat up on the bed and reached for the lamp on the nightstand. "Shit." The shade fell off. "Pull too hard on these antique furnishing, valuble shit... See what this stuff does? Power, boy. Get you' mojo werkin'." He unwrapped a white handkerchief with trim the color of his suit. "That there's my Naw'Lins accent, mojo werkin'... 'Dis shit gonna' let the dogs out, Jake."
He plucked a blue pill from the folds of his hanky. The light bulb was very dull. The faded brocade bedspread was pink and red with strange stains in funny places. Cally stood and nestled the pill in the curl of a lifted veneer corner on the bureau. "This here jaunt'll make you like a conch eatin' Jamaican, Finn-man. You' be able to deflower ten vestal virgins right here tonight if you so desire. You' gonna' be like a musline warrior died and gone to pleasure heaven... You getting G?"
"Who'd a thought, G...""Same with me, Easy..."
"You, a black guy?"
"Well, we all need enhancement time to time..."
I loved this guy. I was starting to feel like my old self already, like I had some worth again. "What can I ever do to thank you, G?"
"Look, I'm just one beggar tellin' another beggar where to find bread, 'dat's all... You wanna' give old Cally a little somethin'... Well, I do gotta' pay a man for that dick pill..."
His cell phone rang. He listened for a minute and said, "I'm rollin', Blue," and closed the phone. "That was Major Blue, my associate... Tell you what, Easy, we' settle up later. Right now I gotta' run..."
We shook hands, then he said, "Wait one minute. I can't leave you like this." He stepped up on a chair and pushed up a panel in the ceiling. "Damn." The fan nearly knocked his hat off, a small jeff-cap the same color as his suit. "That's no good." He got down and checked behind the nightstand. "There you go."
There was a small recess in the wall. "Put your wallet in here. And if that lady that comes over asks about money, her name's Rosey by the way, skinny white girl, you tell her you ain't got it with you, and besides, you' friend G's gonna' take care of her through Blue. They all know Blue. She'll know just what you're talkin' 'bout. You good with that, partner?"
I said, "Yes." Shit I loved this guy. I felt like I was in a movie. I couldn't stop smiling.
He looked at me and said, "You sure you' white?" Smiling. "Man's too cool."
I tried to be nonchalant.
He pointed at the pill. "Now you be cool, brother man."
"You too, G... Blue... I'll remember... Rosey... Rosey the skinny white girl... Rosey, G's gonna' take care a' you through Blue..." I practiced the cadence and accent like a kid reciting a grocery list. I didn't know what the hell I sounded like, but I was pretty sure I had it figured out.
I didn't.
When the ambulance pulled up to the Hotel Chelsea, my wallet was gone. I tried, I really tried to explain to the girl, Rosey, that Cally-G said he'd take care of her. I tried to be cool, like he said, tried to act like a brother.
What a horse's ass...
She kept staring at my crotch. "He gave you one of those Viagra pills, didn't he?"
Then I started to get a pain down there. It hurt so bad. I started fighting with my pants to get them off. That's when she started laughing. I was in a panic. It never hurt like that before.
She sat on the bed with these great belly laughs looking at me sticking out of my pants.
I was saying, "Oh, please help me." I tried, but I was having a hard time being cool about this.
She came over and tried to help me out of my pants. I got so nervous having another woman near me I got my old friend caught in the zipper. "Oh." The teeth dug in. I was bent over hopping around the room with my pants half way down my thighs and blood on my boxers with an erection the size of Bally's Grand sticking out the slit.
"You're a fool, boy." She was bent over laughing. "You better stop."
"Oh, oh... Call an ambulance." I pleaded. Each pull of the zipper dug deeper into my flesh and the damn thing kept engorging and getting harder and harder. "Please, lady." I squealed. "Please."
"And tell 'em what, you got your dick caught in your zipper?" She was rollicking. "Oh, Lordy, I'm peeing myself."
I jumped back on the bed, writhing in pain, yelling, "Well then get me some WD-40..."
She walked to the nightstand laughing, reached behind and removed my wallet from the recess, took out my money, and walked to the door. "You're the best date I had in weeks."
"Oww..." I couldn't sit up. It was straining so I thought it would burst out of its skin. Then I noticed she had my wallet. "Blue, Blue, G..." was all I could say. "Oh Blue G." I was crying.
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| Mojo Werkin' |
I heard her laughing, walking down the hall. She threw my wallet on the floor and said to the fat guy at the desk, "Skinny, that man in there's a bigger jerk-off than my ex."
Calm down, calm yourself, I thought. It'll deflate. It'll go down. Then you can get this damn zipper down... But it didn't. After two hours I had no choice. I wrapped a towel around me, hobbled to the desk and asked the manager if I could call the hospital. He looked at me, my pants at my ankles, the bloody towel, put his pizza down, wiped his hands on his black bowling shirt, Gene on the pocket, handed me the cordless phone and said, "Keep it short.
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