Nasty (20 page)

Carlos pulled his cell phone out of his leather bag. “Hello?”

Sitting in her kitchen, Ophelia nervously spoke into the phone, glad she had finally reached a real live person. “Carlos? Carlos, it’s your mom.”

“Mama Ophelia…Ma? What’s up? Is there anything wrong?”

What does she want
? he thought.

“No, everything’s fine. I wanted to say hello and…”

Carlos hated himself for answering the phone. He loved her dearly but she had picked the wrong time for chitchat.

“Mama, I’m a little busy, so I’m sorry, I have to…”

“Have you seen Jonathan, baby? I’m looking for him. I’m worried about him.”

“Jonathan? He’s probably hanging out with the guys in the camp. He’s always back before dark. He’s fine.”

“Yes. I guess he is.” He could hear the concern and fear in her voice. He immediately felt sorry for her. “Don’t worry about him. He’s a big boy.”

Eavesdropping on the conversation, Nicola fully agreed with Carlos, but for a different reason. She smiled privately to herself.

“Carlos, you’re right, I’m overdoing the mama role this time. I just have this feeling that something is not right. But I’m sorry to bother you. Thanks. And baby…”

“Yes?”

“You take good care of yourself, and like I always tell you young boys, be careful now. There’s a lot of stuff out there that you have to watch out for, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.” He knew exactly what she meant. Ever since he started dating, she always ended every conversation with a safe sex warning.

“Love you, baby. And if you see my baby, you tell him to call his mother.”

“Okay…bye, Mama.”

Carlos put his cell phone back in his bag. Knowing that Nicola would not tolerate any additional interruptions, he turned it off. Though it saved him from coming too soon, his mother’s call had broken the mood a little more than he had bargained for. He was also now conscious of the fact that he’d entirely forgotten to wear a condom.

On the top ten list of Carlos’s supreme laws, always answering a call followed the number one commandment: Thou shall never swim with fish without a lifejacket. Though he was certain that Nicola, his love, was squeaky clean, and he really didn’t think having a baby with her was the worst thing that could happen, he always wrapped up before sex. Looking over at Nicola, impatiently waiting for his quick return, she looked like a perfect angel. On Earth only for him.

But still, his mother’s advice reverberated through his soul. He reached into his wallet and pulled out his supply of condoms.

“Oooh! Let me put those on.” Nicola yanked them out of his hand. She read the label:
Super triple X mega-sized condom
! “Did you have to special order these?” Nicola chuckled.

Carlos blushed as he allowed Nicola to slip the rubber onto his hot rod. He rolled Nicola onto the bed into a supine position, crawled on top of her and in one motion entered her. “Oooh shit, that feels good! Nicola, I’ve waited too long for this.”

They consummated their relationship several times that night.

O
phelia paced back and forth in her kitchen. Speaking to Carlos did not soothe her one little bit. Since she left Eli’s that afternoon, she had tried to reach Jonathan. She left several messages on his phone. Not being able to contact him only made her premonitions seem like prophesy. She had to speak to her baby. She left several messages on his cell.

Images of Jonathan trapped in a car wreck or worse, some urban violent scenario, danced through her brain. Every week she saw flowers posted in front of apartment buildings as the community paid its respect for yet another young Black man or woman who’d been gunned down by bullets. But as real as that threat was…Ophelia was primarily concerned about Nicola and what havoc she could cause for her baby.

Ophelia got a glimpse of herself in the kitchen mirror that hung over her sink. Her reflection wasn’t pretty at all. She was acting like a raging lunatic. Her son had done nothing to deserve the lack of faith she had in him. Jonathan was, after all, a responsible eighteen-year-old high school graduate who had earned the right to have a curfew that was at least a little past four o’clock in the afternoon.

She made herself a cup of chamomile tea and sat in the living
room. When she finished the last drop, Jonathan burst through the door. Breathing a sigh of relief, she yelled, “Jonathan, do you have a moment?”

Jonathan felt sorry for his mom. Her lecture was three hours too late. Out of respect and pure love, he listened attentively as Mama Ophelia laid down the laws of forbidden liaisons; meaning stay away from Carlos’s girl. She held back nothing in her complete condemnation of Nicola.

Jonathan saw her mouth moving about safe sex practices, but he did not, or rather could not, listen to the message. All he could think about was how wonderful Nicola felt. It was as if he was three years old again, and his mother had caught him with his first piece of candy. There was no way she could get the chocolate out of his hands then, just like there wasn’t a thing she could say now to make him to stay away from Nicola. Her two-hour lecture fell on deaf, albeit respectful, ears.

After his mother released him from “class,” he replayed the afternoon session with Nicola over and over. He stayed in his bed all Sunday, imagining he had never left her side. The thought that she was now sharing herself with his brother, did not upset him one bit. He felt no jealousy. Only relief that Nicola had included him on her very elite list of those she screwed.

After speaking with his mom, he realized that he did not have his cell phone. After a quick search, he put two and two together and figured he’d left it in his gym bag. It was in his locker. In his haste to meet with Nicola the previous day, he must have left it at the gym.

The next day at the gym, he found his cell phone. Checking his messages from the previous day, he had several from his mother.
Jonathan tried to remember what he was doing when he got all those calls from his mom. A slow, mischievous grin filled his face when he remembered that while his mother desperately tried to reach him to warn him about “dangerous liaisons” he was having one of his own with Nicola.

His smile broadened as he listened to the latest message from Nicola: “I enjoyed our meeting yesterday. Unfortunately, we did not get a chance to complete all items on the agenda. Please stop by and we can continue our business. Call to confirm. Ciao.”

Jonathan jumped ten feet in the air with joy. He had feared he might be just a one-night stand for Nicola. That message told him otherwise. There were more delightful sessions in his future. He frowned when he realized that, at some point, their little affair would have to end. Until then, he was going to savor every moment of Nicola’s company.

When he returned home and checked his computer, the Teens for Abstinence Committee had posted several messages. Newly deflowered and feeling the power that it inspired, he thought,
to hell with the Teens for Abstinence group.
He sent an e-mail informing the group that he was no longer a member in good standing. He resigned. The very next thing he did was call Nicola. He left a message confirming that he indeed wanted to continue their “meetings.”

For the next two weeks, Nicola and Jonathan met every day after basketball practice. During those hours, she introduced him to several different sexual practices. They assumed Karma Sutra positions that weren’t well known to most folks. Tantric love methods where Nicola convinced him that her orgasm lasted long after he went back home to Brooklyn.

In the short time they were together, Nicola turned Jonathan
into a skilled love machine, one any woman would pay good money for. She was proud of her student. He learned quickly and, much to her surprise and extreme pleasure, he even added a few of his own innovative methods.

Jonathan rarely considered how their affair would affect Carlos. He knew that when he left Nicola’s place at six, Carlos would take his place later that evening. He no longer winced when Carlos declared how deeply he loved Nicola. He felt nothing when he bragged about how blessed he was to have a woman like her. Jonathan only silently agreed with Carlos, that yes, they were both blessed to have Nicola.

During the late afternoon, it was he and Nicola in the guest room. Carlos had the master bedroom in the evening. Everybody was happy. Everything was going to be all right for everybody.

“
P
ut that thing away.” Tarik walked into Carlos’s bed-room, shocked to find him cleaning a .22-caliber gun. Carlos didn’t blink.

“I know how to use this. Remember Pops showed me how on those hunting trips?” Carlos held the gun up, marveling at how shiny it looked. He pointed it toward the window as if aiming it at an unfortunate victim. “Anybody comes up to one of us at a concert or an event,
KAPOW
, right between the eyes.”

“I never liked those trips with Pops; only went that one time.”

“Yeah, you cried like a pussy when they shot the deer.”

“I’m a lover, not a killer.”

“Don’t let Sherry hear you say that.”

“She feels the same way I do about guns—they’re dangerous and you only wind up usually hurting your own damn self…so get rid of it, Carlos.”

“Check this out…a gun in the right hands protects. Look, you’re getting up in the world. What if one of those wannabe gangster rappers trying to make a name for themselves by getting cheap publicity wants to pull up on you?”

“I’m not a gun man. Put it away, Carlos. It makes me nervous, knowing you have it.”

“Since I’ve been with Nicola, I feel a lot better with this at my side.”

Tarik looked at his brother and shook his head. So, the real reason for the piece of steel was the new girl in his life. With the memory of her “attack” still fresh on his mind, Tarik knew Nicola, Carlos and the gun were a lethal combination. There would be trouble.

“Oh, so the gun’s not really for me; it’s for Nicola. Carlos, I tried to warn you ’bout her. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I’ll give you that, but…”

Carlos threw up his hands. “Hey, I get enough of this ‘Nicola’s a big bad witch’ advice from Mother. Don’t need it from you, too. I know who she really is. She’s a woman who really loves me, and only me. Get it?”

“Whatever you say. If you like her, that’s your problem. Your big problem! But remember, ain’t no good ever gonna come from a gun. But you grown; over twenty-one.”

“And this gun and me is all legal and shit. Don’t worry ’bout the gun and don’t worry ’bout my woman. I can handle both.” Carlos slipped the gun into a shoulder holster and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He struck several Hollywood-style poses, pulling his gun out swiftly for effect.

“I’ll probably never use it, but I got to have it near me.”

Frustrated and unable to fight Carlos’s twisted logic, Tarik turned and walked out the room. Carlos slammed the door behind him.

Returning to the mirror, he kept posing with the gun. Carlos’s thoughts raced back to Nicola’s side. There was rarely a moment he didn’t have her on his mind. He wanted to be with her every free moment he got. Much to his disappointment, she resisted his attempts to get closer.

When he suggested that he move in to her home, without explanation, she blurted out, “Hell no!” He thought it was about
money. She laughed in his face when he volunteered to pay all the expenses. He couldn’t figure her out.

She never said the words, but he knew that she loved him. He could feel it.

Or did he need to feel it? For the past few weeks, Old Satan played with his mind. All night long, whenever she brushed him offrefusing to see himexplicit scenes of her fucking some other man would taunt him. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t concentrate during the day. He snapped at everyone around him.

And the dreams he had. Dreams of his father beating his mother. Accusing her of cheating on him. Hector Salinas tortured his poor mother. Afterward, he would always take little Carlos to the ice cream parlor. He could order any flavor he wanted.

And as he ate his favorite strawberry cone with multi-colored sprinkles, his father would try to explain why he’d beat his mother. She was bad, he would tell him. She had other men. He would always declare how much he loved her. All Carlos would do as he listened to his crazy father was lick his ice cream as it dripped all over his clothes.

Later that night, the dreams of his childhood revisited him. This time, Hector beat his mother with his police baton. She pleaded with him to stop. Little Carlos stood in his bedroom, petrified. Only six years old at that time, he went into his parents’ master bathroom. He looked up at his father, tugged at his pants leg, and begged, “Poppi, please, don’t hit Mommy. Take me to get ice cream.”

It was that pleading child’s voice that reverberated in his mind. It made the adult Carlos scream, as if screaming could change the past. Make everything right. Ophelia, who was downstairs reading in the living room, heard his scream. Jumping up from
her chair, she flew up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. Banging on his door, she yelled, “Carlos, baby, are you all right? Open this door!”

Carlos woke up, drenched in sweat. He opened the door and saw Mama Ophelia staring at him with a concerned look. “What’s wrong, Mama?”

“Boy, you were in there yelling like somebody was killing you.”

Carlos got back in bed. The memory of the nightmare still clung to him.

“I just…had…I just had a bad dream…that’s all.” Ophelia sat down on the bed next to him and pulled him close to her like she had done when he was younger. Carlos needed her comfort and did not resist. Never telling her what was on his mind, he let Mama Ophelia rock him back to sleep.

N
icola took a long, luxurious bubble bath. The weekend had been particularly entertaining. Carlos and Jonathan were just what the doctor ordered. The therapist she visited immediately after the breakup with Harrison had advised long-term counseling and pills for depression to help her deal with her wicked childhood and the shock of Harrison’s betrayal.