Two Thin Dimes (10 page)

Jamaica waved from the mall area in front of the shoe store. “Hey, T!”

Upon seeing her, Tameer quickly walked from behind the counter and greeted her. “Hi, Jai!”

They met in the middle of the store and kissed passionately for several moments. When finished, Tameer stared at Jamaica with a broad smile.

“You're not gonna believe what happened to me today!” Tameer said excitedly.

“What happened?” Jamaica asked, not sure if it was because of her and LaChina's scheme.

“Well, I got a call from a radio station saying that I won a car, and that I can pick it up from the dealership any time after two o'clock today.”

Jamaica bounced up and down excitedly and hugged him. “That's wonderful!”

Tameer scratched his head and shifted his gaze to the floor. “Funny thing is, I don't remember entering into any contest.”

“Well, don't worry about that,” Jamaica said, hugging him tightly. “If they say you won, you won. Just be happy, Tameer.”

Tameer nodded. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“So, what kind of car did you win?” Jamaica asked. She was truly anxious to find out.

“Well, the person on the phone said…” Tameer cleared his throat and prepared his voice to do his best impression of a game-show host. “Congratulations, you're the winner of a brand-new 2008 Shelby GT 500 Convertible Mustang!”

The title sounded impressive. A little
too
impressive.

“Wow, what does one of those cost?” Jamaica asked. She managed to keep her expression neutral.

“Hell, about forty-seven K,” Tameer told her.

Jamaica reeled slightly, but managed her best entertainer's smile.
China, you bitch! I'm going to kill you!
“Well, I bet you're happy.”

Tameer shrugged his shoulders. “It really doesn't make a difference to me. I'm going to sell the thing.”

Tameer nodded his head, motioning for Jamaica to follow. “C'mon, let's walk to the food court before I stand here and use up all of my lunch break.”

Jamaica locked her arm into his, as they started off for the food court. “So, why are you going to sell the car?”

“Well, Savion has scholarships, but he'll need some cash for other expenses,” Tameer explained.

“Tameer, you're a nice person, you deserve nice things,” Jamaica told him. “You've worked hard, you've put yourself through school, you've made sure that your brother stayed out of trouble and stayed in school. Tameer, you deserve it.”

“I guess. But Savion is gonna need…”

“Tameer…” She interrupted him, stopped, turned, and faced him. “I'm sure Savion will be okay. Something will come through for him, just like it came through for you.” Jamaica shook her head. “Don't sell your car.”

Again, he shrugged. “I'll see. Hell, I can always sell it later, if things get tough for Savion.”

Jamaica leaned her head against his shoulder as they continued their stroll through the mall. “You're so sweet.”

“Say, cuz,” a voice called out from behind. “What's up with that bullshit?”

Unaware that they were being spoken to, Tameer and Jamaica continued along their path to the food court. The shove from behind caused Tameer to stumble forward. It got their attention.

“I said, what's up with that bullshit you're wearing?” the voice asked again.

Tameer and Jamaica turned. Now standing in front of them were four young men wearing royal-blue T-shirts, black Dickies pants, and blue Converse tennis shoes. Tameer quickly shoved Jamaica behind him.

“It ain't nothing,” Tameer told them. He waved his hand at the boy, signaling his unwillingness to engage them. Deep down, he knew that it was not going to be that easy.

“Naw, man, it is something,” one of the blue-clad boys told him, as he made his approach.

The boy extended his hand, and tugged forcefully at Tameer's burgundy down-filled parka. “You don't slob in this mall and think that you can get away with it.”

“Yeah, that's awfully disrespectful, cuz,” another boy chimed in.

Tameer shook his head. “I'm not in a gang.”

“Did I ask you that?” the first boy asked.

Tameer raised his hands again, indicating that he wanted no quarrel. “I'm not in a gang, and I don't want any trouble. I'm just walking through the mall, minding my own business.”

Tameer reached behind himself and clasped Jamaica's badly shaking hand. He rubbed it gently to calm her nerves, and then turned and began to walk away from the boys.

He was shoved again, and this time he fell.

“Tameer!” Jamaica shouted. She rushed forward and began to kneel, but Tameer was already getting up.

Tameer squeezed her hand. “Go to the car,” he told her. He knew that he had to get her away from there.

Jamaica shook her head. She wasn't going to leave his side.

“Jamaica go!” Tameer said forcefully.

“No!” she said emphatically.

“Your little bitch ain't going nowhere,” the first boy told them. He lifted his shirt, and rested his hand on a semi-automatic handgun.

Jamaica's hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my God!”

Stunt props she had seen; a real gun, she had not.

“What do you want?” asked a frustrated and angry Tameer.

“We don't want no fucking undercover slobs walking around disrespecting us,” the leader told him.

Another boy, this one with long curly hair tied into sections with blue rubber bands, stepped forward. He too flashed a weapon. “Come out the jacket, cuz.”

It is simple
, Tameer thought. He would give them what they wanted, be rid of them to ensure Jamaica's safety.

Tameer unzipped his jacket, pulled it off, and tossed it onto the ground in front of the leader's feet. Inside he was boiling with anger. He wanted to punch him. He wanted to whip them all.

Several of the boys broke into laughter. “What a ho!”

One of the boys turned to Jamaica. “Say, Lil' Mamma, you need to get you a real man!”

Another one of the boys grabbed himself. “One with some nuts!”

The leader of the group stepped on Tameer's jacket and ground it into the floor of the mall. The curly-haired boy stepped on the jacket also, while giving Tameer a haughty smirk. Satisfied, they all turned and walked away laughing.

It is over
, Tameer thought.
It is finally over
. He exhaled loudly, and bent slowly, lifting his jacket from the mall floor. He held it into the air and examined it. Fortunately, the mall's floors were kept clean, so the jacket was relatively unsoiled. Tameer brushed his hands across it several times, clearing away loose particles, and then slowly, he put it back on.

Jamaica turned in the direction in which the boys had gone, and pumped her tiny fist in the air. “Ooooh, I'd like to catch each one of them…”

“Why? What for?” Tameer asked. Again he brushed off the front of his jacket. “Then they would have to come back and catch you, and then you would have to catch them again, and it would never end.”

Tameer stared down the corridor in the direction in which they had left. “Then, you'd become just like them.”

Jamaica shook her fist again. “But still! I mean, we weren't even bothering them!”

“That's why,” he told her. “Because we weren't bothering anyone.”

Tameer clasped Jamaica's still trembling hand, and started off again. “I had a cousin, his name was Paul. Paul was real cool, but he was a little bit of a trip though. At first Paul was just like me; he loved poetry, and he wanted something better out of life than the hood. In fact, he turned me on to poetry when we were younger. Of course, back then it was to impress girls.”

Tameer smiled. His smile made Jamaica smile.

“But anyway, my cousin was smart. He could have been anything that he wanted to have been. Doctor, lawyer, scientist, engineer, anything. But, he snapped.” Tameer snapped his fingers loudly to emphasize his point. “Paul was born with a hyperpigmentation deficiency. He was what you would call an albino. But, he was also mixed. He had long, sandy hair, and pale ice-blue eyes like his dad. But inside, he was black. The guys didn't like him because of his pale, white skin, and growing up, he got it from directions, Jamaica. Some say he just snapped. He dropped out of school, started hanging with the wrong crowd, doing drugs, selling drugs, robbing, and all kinds of things. When I say ‘all kinds of things,' Jamaica, I mean all kinds of things. Drive-bys, murders, everything.”

Tameer swallowed hard before continuing. “What I'm trying to say, Jamaica, is that some people survive by becoming monsters. They become worse than their nightmares, worse than their tormentors, so they can stop being tormented. They survive by becoming the worst of the worst. The most feared, the most dangerous, the king of the jungle. They survive by becoming the nightmare.”

Tameer peered off into the distance, and shook his head slowly. “I don't want to be like that, Jamaica, I can't be like that. So I decided a long time ago, that I was going to survive by not playing the game. I refuse to play the game.”

Jamaica leaned her head on Tameer's shoulder as they approached the counter to place their orders. Tameer was brave, but in a different way. He was a good brave.

“So what happened to Paul?” she asked softly.

“Paul became somebody else, somebody that no one knew. He became a monster named Lil' Fade.”

Jamaica lifted her head and stared into Tameer's eyes. “So where is he now?”

Deep down, she already knew the answer to her question, but she had to hear it from him. It had to be said out loud.

“He's dead,” Tameer said softly. “He killed himself.”

Jamaica squeezed Tameer's hand, and her entire body shivered as she tried to provide a comforting smile. Her smile failed.

Tameer looked down at the floor, and repeated to himself softly. “He's dead.” It was almost a whisper. “Lil' Fade is dead.”

T
ameer's tongue, cold because of the ice cubes inside of his mouth, slowly parted Jamaica's steamy paradise. The cool, sensual wetness caused her to moan and move slightly to her left. Her movement made Tameer grip her silky, smooth, caramel legs, and spread them open even farther. Again, his tongue parted her deeply, and again, she moaned. Consistently, his lashing strokes built in their frequency, with each of Jamaica's watery moans.

After several long, pleasurable moments, Jamaica gripped the back of his head tightly, and soon found herself built up to a climactic release. His bold, deep, rapid strokes continued relentlessly until…

“Ooooh, T…T…Tameer!”

Slowly, the tension bled from her body, and Jamaica spread herself wide. Gently, she pulled him up toward her, where she kissed him passionately, and began rubbing his sweating, bulging muscles. Jamaica was ready. Carefully, she maneuvered herself until he was pressing forcefully against her.

Tameer kissed Jamaica's neck wildly. His tongue lashed at her continuously, while his mouth consumed her sweaty juices. It was then when he took his hand, and rubbed himself against her until parting her, and finding her paradise. Unintentionally, Tameer burst inside of her too quickly, causing Jamaica to arch her back and cry out.

“Ooooo, Tameer.” It was a watery whisper.

“Oooooo, Jamaica.”

Carefully, he plunged into her in depth, causing her to grip his back tightly, and exhale in watery moans. Jamaica's tight warmth gripped him, pulled at him, massaged him. The captivating pleasure of her warmth would not allow him to speak coherently. Tameer could only grunt in guttural cries of immeasurable pleasure.

Jamaica spread herself even farther, trying to widen herself to ease the pleasurable pain. It only made him slide into her even farther, causing them both to cry out. Slowly, they began to counter rotate against each other, and with each rotation, Tameer's girth and depth made her inhale, squeeze him, and exude a soft cry of pleasure. With each rotation, Jamaica's warmth and tightness made him release a low guttural grunt of pleasure. Slowly, their grinding built in speed and force. Lips and tongues touched, then glided soothingly over necks, faces, and shoulders. Their motion built, until their hands became uncontrollable, as did the sounds of their carnal bliss. Their speed built, until their rhythmic thrusting culminated into an all-consuming, back-arching, shoulder-biting, teeth-clenching, back-scratching, hair-pulling, toe-curling, pulsating, screaming, bursting release.

Jamaica lifted the remote and turned down the television. Lying next to Tameer, she turned and placed her arm across his stomach and rubbed.

“So, how is it that you came to be single?” she asked him.

Tameer managed to conjure up a half-smile to hide the hurt. “Well, it's a long story.”

Jamaica sat up. She lifted her arm to her forehead and moved the hair out of her face and smiled. “We have all night.”

Her smile widened as she peered at the covers near Tameer's waist. “Or at least until he wakes up again.”

Jamaica lifted the covers and tried to peek underneath. “Is he awake?”

It made Tameer laugh. He pressed down on the covers blocking her view. “My God, you're trying to kill me!”

Just as quickly as his laughter had begun, it faded. Still smiling, he turned toward her. “So how is it that
you're
single?”

Jamaica shook her head slightly, sending hair everywhere. “I asked you first.”

Tameer exhaled forcibly and gathered his thoughts for several moments, before he began speaking. He didn't want to tell the story again, but since he had to, he wanted to tell it right. Finally, he turned toward her again.

“She wanted something different,” he said, trying to sum up his previous relationship.

Jamaica wanted to know more. “Like what?”

“Like a life that I couldn't give her. Well, in all honesty, I could have given it to her. It would have made her happy, Pops happy, and everyone else happy…except me.”

Jamaica sat up even further in bed. He had her attention. He knew that she wanted to know more.

“She wanted me to play sports,” Tameer continued. “She said that she wanted to marry a professional athlete.”

The thought made Jamaica snicker. “Child, if she only knew.”

“Well, she broke up with me after I finished my freshman year in college, and showed her that I was determined to leave my sports playing at the high school level.”

“She left you for that?” Jamaica's tiny nose crinkled, as she tried to contemplate the idea of leaving someone for such a reason.

Tameer nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Sounds like she was mental.” Jamaica carefully adjusted the sheets around her body, and sat up even further. “So who came after her?”

Tameer smiled, and allowed his eyes to meet Jamaica's. “You.”

“Me?” It took her by surprise. “But you broke up with her almost two years ago.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “But I had been with her since middle school.”

Tameer's glance fell to the bed. “Honestly, Jamaica, I hadn't thought of a life without her. It never occurred to me that we might not make it.”

He lifted his head and again their eyes met. “I mean, don't get me wrong, I dated after that, but it was always a four or five date thing. No relationships. I…I loved her.” The words slipped out softly.

Jamaica closed her eyes and bit down softly on her bottom lip. Although his words had been spoken softly, they had hit hard. She was afraid to ask, what she knew that she had to ask. She was afraid of his answer.

“Do you still love her?” Her words slipped out as softly as his.

“Honestly?” Tameer asked, staring into her eyes.

The question made her turn her head away. Internally she braced herself. “Yeah, Tameer, honestly.”

“The way it all went down still hurts a little, but…no.”

Jamaica couldn't help the smile that crept across her face. Inside, she was shouting and jumping for joy.

Tameer leaned forward and kissed her.

“I…I…” He tried to speak, but Jamaica placed her finger over his lips.

“Please don't say that,” she pleaded. “Don't tell me that yet.”

It made him swallow hard. “Why?” He had thought that she felt the same.

“Because I'm scared.” It was a whisper.

“Why?” Tameer asked.

“Tameer, I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know what's going to happen next week.”

“I'll be there,” he told her.

“I…I…”

It was his turn to place his finger over her lips.

“It's only hard, if you make it hard.” He stared into Jamaica's eyes. “Jamaica, I'll be there.”

She looked down. “How could she ever leave you? How could she have ever let you go?”

“Trust me, it was easy.” His smile lightened the mood. “All of those gossiping, cackling, loudmouth friends that she worships, could convince her to jump off a bridge.”

Jamaica laughed. “So, where is she now?”

“Oh, she's in the Courts. Probably in somebody's business, as we speak.”

“Tameer, what are Courts?” She felt more unknowledgeable than stupid. She simply did not know.

“Um…projects. But only like two or three stories,” Tameer explained. “More like flats, I guess.”

Jamaica knew that if she asked what projects were, it would have only made her look stupid, or suspicious, or both. She accepted his answer.

“Oh, is that where you live?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Tameer nodded.

“I wanna see.”

“Why?”

“Because, I wanna see where you live,” Jamaica pleaded. “Is it a sin?”

“I guess not, but I have to tell you about Pops first.”

Jamaica nodded. “I remember, you caught him using drugs.”

Tameer nodded, confirming what she'd remembered. “He's been going to treatment since we fought. It's a residential treatment program, so he's not at the apartment often, but he may show up while you're there. He's rough around the edges. A big, burly, union type of guy. Don't let him scare you.”

Jamaica laughed. “If it's one thing I've learned, a big man, means a big heart. The bigger they are, the more gentle and fragile they are on the inside.”

“Ha, not this guy! He's as hard as nails. My whole life I've been afraid of him. He's always driven me.” Tameer tightened his fist and pounded the air. “Be the best, run faster, lift more, throw farther, run harder, catch better!”

Tameer lifted his head, and stared into Jamaica's eyes. “Have you ever been pushed? I mean, constantly pushed?”

Jamaica's face turned pale and became contorted as she thought of her childhood, as she thought of her mother. She, more than anyone else, understood what it meant to be pushed. She understood better than most, about having to follow someone else's dreams. Her half-smile that she pulled deep from within, hid her pain.

“Sounds like he had high hopes for you,” she said softly.

“Yeah, he had high expectations of everybody, except himself. He drove my mother away.”

Jamaica caressed Tameer's hand. “Maybe it wasn't his fault. Maybe she wanted to leave.”

It was Tameer's turn to smile and hide his pain.

“I thought about that. But growing up, I convinced myself differently. I convinced myself that he made her go, because mothers just don't leave their children.” Tameer's fist grew tight. “I hated him for that.”

Jamaica caressed his chest. “Don't hate your father, Tameer. And don't give up on him, either. Good or bad, he's your father. Good or bad, he put a roof over your head, and food on the table. Good or bad, he made you into a nice, caring, kind, responsible, young man.”

He turned toward her. “And you, Jamaica? Where is your knight in shining armor? C'mon, tell me what your story is?”

“I don't have one. I've dated, but the guys never saw past what was on the outside. They, well, most of them, would have been content to leave me inside of their cars. That way they would be able to hop in, ride around the block, and show us both off at the same time. You know, sometimes I felt like that. Like I was just another prized possession because of the way that I looked. I've never lain in anyone's arms and talked about family, or problems, or life in general.”

“So I'm different?” Tameer smiled.

His smile made her smile.

“Yeah.” Jamaica nodded. “You're different.”

“Good different, or bad different.”

“I like different. You wanna be my knight inside of a shiny new Mustang?”

“Yeah, I'll take you away from a life of bad dates,” Tameer told her.

“And I'll rescue you from a gold digger, and her merry band of gossiping friends.”

Together they laughed. After several moments, Tameer pulled his arm away.

“Hold on, Jai, I've got to go use the restroom real quick.”

Tameer rose from the bed, and Jamaica quickly leaned over and pinched him on his derriere. Her pinch made him jump.

“Hey!” Tameer shouted. “I'm gonna pay you back for that when I get back.”

Jamaica smiled. “Ummm, I like the sound of that! Any more ice?”

“I'll check,” Tameer answered, as he left the room.

Jamaica waited for several seconds to make sure that he was gone, and then reached for the telephone. She punched the number to the motel with lightning speed, and waited impatiently for LaChina to pick up.

There was no answer.

Frustrated, Jamaica dialed the number to her friend's voice mail. “China, this is Jai. I need a scholarship…no change that. I need cash for Savion. I need it to get to him by tomorrow! Tameer's going to sell the car to get Savion some cash to go to school. Take care of it for me. Love ya, Jai.”

Jamaica quickly hung up the telephone, frightened that she may have taken too long. Tameer walked into the room seconds later, with his hands hidden behind his back, and a devilish grin plastered across his face.

“What do you have?” Jamaica asked suspiciously.

Tameer's smile grew wider, and he shook the object that he had hidden behind his back. It clinked.

Jamaica smile, and threw open her arms welcoming him. “Ice cubes! My baby!”

She waved her hands at him seductively, motioning for him to join her. “Come to Mommy!”

Tameer leaped onto the bed with the glass, the ice cubes, and a big, wide grin.