Midnight and the Meaning of Love (12 page)

“What is going on?” Marty Bookbinder appeared in the back where we were standing.

“Don’t ask,” I told him calmly.

“Is she one of your friends?” he questioned.

“I’m Tiffany,” Bangs introduced herself. Marty reached in to shake her hand. I intercepted him before he touched her and he drew it back.

“Here, Marty. I’m gonna buy this,” I said, handing him the geography book while at the same time using the book to separate him from Bangs. Marty was always smart. He picked up on my sentiments, took one last concentrated stare at Bangs, and then turned to head toward the cash register.

“Let me talk to you over there,” I said to Bangs. She sat down on the chair opposite the La-Z-Boy. So I took that comfortable chair for myself.

“What’s up, Bangs? Why you always chasing me?” I asked her. She just sat there staring at me with eyes brighter than searchlights, not saying anything.

“You said you wanted to talk, now talk,” I pushed.

Suddenly she stopped smiling and kicking her feet even while she was sitting. Her face turned serious and she said, “I love you, Supastar.”

I felt my heart melt a bit. I sat back some in my chair. I kept my face blank. I didn’t want to encourage her. Yet her admiration for me, and the tone of her talk, and the sudden seriousness of her pretty face moved me some. I was searching for the words to decline her affections without being mean. The truth was I didn’t hate her. I didn’t even find her annoying. I thought she was real attractive and full of life and energy and jokes. But I wasn’t the type to just move on impulse. I had already thought it through thoroughly. I had interacted with her some, watched her closely. I had discovered that her infant child was the result of molestation by her own blood-related uncle, and it seemed that she still had ongoing dealings with him, which turned me off and away completely. Bangs claimed she hated him. But there were signs that she allowed him to continue to violate her even after she knew it was wrong. I couldn’t be sure. But for me, that was the point. When it came to my women,
I had to be sure.

I wasn’t interested in taking advantage of Bangs, although I knew it would be easy. I wouldn’t take her as a wife because I knew she did not know one thing about or understand or even
have an interest
in my Muslim faith and lifestyle. I knew she would not be acceptable to my Umma, and Umma is my standard.

As a Muslim man, I knew I could have more than one wife. But this was not a game to me. My father is a great man, so he has three wives. He is a true believer, wealthy, accomplished, and proven. He deserves all that he has and chose wisely and treats his wives lovingly and fairly, from what I could see as a young man. He provides. Each wife has a separate home of her own, all on our estate, which my father built and financed and owns.

I was not foolish enough to believe that I deserved a second wife, or that I was fully prepared to protect and provide for her. Even my first wife was not part of my teenaged plan. Akemi was a great love, very much mutual, that took me by storm. I had to step up and in. I wanted to. She was a virgin. I was a virgin. She worked hard. I worked hard. She was talented. I was dedicated. We were connected solidly in every way, without a common language between us.

“You don’t love me. You just think that you do. You don’t really know me, Bangs. If you did, you wouldn’t even want to be bothered with my way of life.
You would have to change up everything that you’re
doing now
, just to be considered by me. So you see, it’s too much trouble for you,” I said earnestly but also trying not to blame her or hurt her feelings.

“What am I doing that is so wrong?” she asked sincerely.

“It’s not just one thing … Actually, it would take too long to explain.”

“C’mon, tell me something. Run it by me. I want to know what you’re talking about,” she urged, flinging one of her legs across the other and easing her body forward to listen intently. After a thoughtful pause I answered her in a way that I thought she might understand, a way that might make her take a look at herself instead of only looking at me.

“How long you known me, Bangs? You never even offered me one glass of water. You see a man is out here working and even hustling on these courts a few hours every night. You never thought to offer me a cool drink. I been in your house. You never offered me a stew, sandwich, or a cookie. You think you’re ready, but you wouldn’t even know what to do with a man,” I said, picking the smallest, easiest criticism on purpose.

“True dat,” she said, regretfully.

“And how many men you been talking to since we met?” I asked, not expecting a true answer, just try’na show her something. “So if it didn’t work out between you and me, would you just roll with the next cat that you had lined up?” I asked with a serious face, not angry but telling her my real thoughts. When she didn’t have no quick responses like usual, I knew I was affecting her. “Didn’t you say I had your heart? If I got your heart, how could there be a next man on line? Is it a game?” I asked her.

“If I don’t got you
and
I don’t talk to no other guys,
how
am I s’posed to get you out of my heart, Supastar?”

“Why does it have to be somebody? Why can’t you just go home and take care of your daughter? Go to school and put your mind on something else?”

“ ’Cause that’s boring and I’m young. I need real love in my life,” she answered. “And besides, when I be with other guys, that’s just talking. It’s
only you
who I love.” She looked right at me to try and show her true intent. She didn’t even blink.

“C’mon, Supastar. Let me get a do-over!” she said, smiling wildly
once again. “I’ll change. I’ll change for you. I want you to be my man and my daughter’s father, for real. I’ll do anything. Just tell me.”

“Nah, it ain’t easy like that. It’s not just something you wake up doing tomorrow. First, you got to at least have some learning and understanding.”

“I’m smart! Just ’cause I’m funny and I like to have fun doesn’t mean that I’m not smart, Supastar.” There was a pause between us.

“What type of books do you like to read?” I asked her, not seriously expecting a reply, but trying to show her that she really wasn’t serious or smart enough.

“Huh? What?” she replied, just how I expected she would.

I rephrased my question. “What is the name of the last book that you read?” I asked.

Seconds and then a full minute passed. She didn’t have a title, an answer, or a clue. Not even any of the books that surrounded her here in the bookstore could trigger any thoughts in her mind or memory it seemed.

“Okay,
but I can read
! What do you
want
me to read? I’ll read it. Then you can come over to my house and we can discuss it!” She said it like she might mean it, but always with her there was a strong trace of humor in everything. Always with her, she tried to ease me up into her bedroom. I knew she wanted to feel something. I knew she wanted me to go in her. I also knew that a real relationship couldn’t start or be held together with just that. But at the same time, I wanted her to be a better woman, at least so she could be in a position to raise her daughter right.

“You’re in the bookstore. You look around. Pick out a few books. I’ll buy ’em for you. You show me that you are really going to try to improve some of your thoughts and ways. Then we’ll see,” I said calmly.

I really wanted to watch and wait and see what kind of books she chose. I thought it would tell me something and she would show herself something as well. She agreed, then paused. She stood up, stepped over, and then sat down beside me in my chair, squeezing her hips in close.

“But first, don’t you want to know our secret?” she asked me.

“We don’t have any secrets, Bangs,” I said solidly.

“Ooh look at my ring,” she said, holding her hand out for me to see. “It’s a mood ring, and it turned all red as soon as I got close to you,”
she joked. “If you kissed me, the glass would probably break open. Ooh God, if you kissed me, I swear I would go crazy.” She threw her shoulders and then her head onto the back of the chair. She leaned her head against my shoulder. “You really kept me waiting too long, Supastar.”

She was feeling warm against me. I still shook her off. Then she stood up, still staring.

“I don’t have the time to play with you, Bangs,” I told her.

“You might not have the time, but I know that you want to,” she said teasing. I decided then that her jeans were not much better than her red denim shorts. Even though her legs were fully covered and her belly button wasn’t showing anymore, her pants seams were still squeezing and riding her curves and her blouse was thin and her figure was too powerful and alluring. Even just seeing her up close and feeling the bare skin of her forearm was too much for me. I’m not sure if it is because of where I am from that I feel and think this way.
But I like women
, and lately every little move certain ones of them make, when captured in my eye, sends a current through me that I’m forced to restrain and control. I was feeling that current right then, and immediately, I knew I had made a mistake. No matter how hard she came at me, I should have kept it moving without any words. If I had done that enough times, she would have to give up and be forced to go away, stay away.

I stood up.

“Okay, but before you leave, because I can see you’re getting uptight, just let me tell you what the fortune-teller said about me and you.”

“I don’t believe in no fortune-teller.”

Back in Sudan, this kind of thing is called
kittaba
, and even though some people involve themselves in it, most Sudanese surely try to avoid it. I had no interest in it. I thought to myself.

“Oh, but this lady is
good.
I went there with my friend Brittany, and this lady even knew that Brittany had two abortions. And it was Brittany’s first time ever going there,” Bangs said, fully convinced. “You see, this is how it works. You have to bring the fortune-teller something that you have that you wear on your body, like a piece of jewelry, a necklace, or a piece of clothing that you wore but haven’t washed yet, or like a coin that you have in your pocket all of the time or something like that. Then the fortune-teller holds it in her hand. She closes her
eyes for a minute or more, and then she can tell you about your whole life. Like she can tell you what’s going on in your life now and what’s happening in your future also.” Bangs finally paused for air.

“No, seriously, after Brittany gave the fortune-teller her necklace, the one her mother gave her that she wears all the time, the fortune-teller told her to have a seat. Then the lady closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she said, ‘It’s not good for young ladies to have abortions. You have aborted two babies.’ Brittany’s jaw dropped open and I was shocked and a little bit scared too. Then Brittany asked the fortune-teller how could she know that about her. The fortune-teller said, ‘Because your two aborted babies are here with you now. They are both seated at your side. They will follow you around for your whole life, sad at being unborn, but connected to you still!’ ”

Bangs jumped up out of my chair with real expression in her eyes. “Supastar, I was scared like shit! But after Brittany’s half hour was up, I wanted a turn too. But I didn’t have the money. It cost thirty dollars. So I asked the fortune-teller if I can come back to her. I told her I wanted to ask her about a person. The fortune-teller said if I had the money, I could return. She told me to bring something of my own and something that belonged to the person who I was asking her about. So I did.”

“Oh yeah?” was all I said, feeling like this was all some bullshit and planning to pull myself out of it and leave.

But then Bangs said, “I wanted to ask the fortune-teller about you Supastar. So I took your hoodie out of my closet. Remember the hoodie that you wore that night that the police was chasing you and your friends, the first night that you climbed into my bedroom window? Well, I gave it to the fortune-teller. And I gave the fortune-teller my T-shirt that I had on that night, ’cause that night was so special to me. I was so happy that you came my way that I could just die.”

Now Bangs had my complete attention. Not only had I left my hoodie at her house that night, I left one of my guns. If she took the hoodie out of the closet and gave it to some stranger, I wondered what she might have done with my gun. I had always felt grateful to her because she helped me out on a night that the police were head-hunting. In those situations they don’t care who actually did what. They just want to pump bullets into black bodies and deny it later. I had picked up my hoodie and my gun from Bangs after that incident. But now that I
thought back, I recalled that I waited about four days before I went and got my shit back from her. I had wanted to be sure that the commotion and the surveillance and the search on her block had died down first.

“So the fortune-teller held your hoodie and my T-shirt and she closed her eyes. When she opened them, she told me that you and I would be together for a lifetime. The fortune-teller told me that you were at my side right then, and you will always be on my side in the future.” Bangs was staring into my eyes, this time to judge if her story had gotten to me.

“Did you move my gun out of your house at any time while you had it?” I asked her seriously. Maybe I even frightened her.

“Now c’mon, don’t try and play me. You know I’m better than that. Not only did I not move your gun, I didn’t touch it. I don’t know if you had bodies on it or not. Hmph, I know that much, Supastar. I ain’t dumb,” she said, and it sounded true. I got calmer some.

“So what do you think about what the fortune-teller said?” she asked, looking up into my eyes as though she wished she could read my mind.

“I think it’s a hustle and that lady don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Then how did she know about Brittany’s abortions?” Bangs asked, dragging me into her soap opera.