What My Eyes Can't See
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What My Eyes Can’t See
Part 1
by
Mocha Lovan
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© 2015
Published by Leo Sullivan Presents
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.
Shayvon
“P
ass the blunt, nigga,” Q’Mari said as he drifted in the middle of the pool on a floater, gulping Hennessy. “Puff, puff, pass, damn y’all niggas is slow,” he said, as he looked around shaking his head in disappointment.
“Just roll another one, fool. Damn, nigga, always complaining,” Todd said, as he hit the blunt. “You need to dip them ashy ass legs in the pool, or put some lotion on them joints or something. Ole ashy ass nigga.” Todd sat back in his lounge chair, and then let two smoke rings loose from his lips.
“How da fuck can I roll another one from the middle of the damn pool with no weed?” Q’Mari asked sarcastically.
“Both of y’all fools are slow as fuck,” I said as I walked over to where Todd was lounging, and snatched the blunt from his fingers.
“Ah nigga, you tripping! You know Sasha rolled that shit specifically for me,” Todd whined.
I snatched a zip of purple off the table, where Sasha was sitting. Then, I threw the zip at Todd and he caught it midair.
Todd held the bag of weed in the air. “Now which one of y’all lazy ass’s gon roll this shit?”
As Q’Mari and Todd went back and forth, about who was going to roll the blunt, Sasha chimed in. “Damn y’all some lazy ass niggas. Give me the damn weed, shit,” Sasha said, as she mumbled obscenities under her breath. She took the zip from Todd and went back to the patio table, where she had been bagging twenty sacks. Todd did not protest. He just stared at her ass as she walked back to her seat.
Q’Mari never wanted to leave the trap to parlay. It was cool for us, because we can’t take that nigga nowhere, so we made it happen. A pool and patio addition was out of place, but a perfect fit all in the same. We picked one of the trap houses that was mostly in the cuts, and kept guns stashed everywhere around the pool, in case shit popped off. That way we could do business in the front and parlay in the back.
Pool party heaven
is what I call it; drugs, booze and bitches around the clock whenever we pleased.
I had been enjoying myself, but after the second night, I was hung over, and tired as fuck. I decided to take my hungover ass home when I got a text from Moms. She asked if I could swing by her spot to help her out with something. When I arrived at Mom’s house, she was standing near her car, talking to a dope fiend. I can spot a knock anywhere. I walked over to peep the situation.
“Shay, baby, help Davona bring her belongings inside for me please,” Mom said.
“What’s going on, Mom? Who is this?” I inquired as I gave Davona a glance over.
“Baby, you remember the program Pastor got started a few months ago?”
“Yeah… and…”
“Davona is going to stay with me for a little while, until she gets back on her feet. And Lord knows that I could use the company,” Mom said, with a little sadness in her voice.
“What are you talking about? You got all the company you need right here, Mom. Don’t I come every time you call on me?” I asked, trying to keep my patience.
“Boy, have you been drinking this early?” Mom said, trying to deflect what I just said.
“That was last night and… come here so I can talk to you for a minute,” I demanded.
“Don’t start with me, boy. I am a grown woman—”
“Are you sure about this, Mom? I don’t trust no knock. You must know a lot about her if you are letting her move in with you, right? I don’t think it’s a good idea. If she hurts you or steals anything out of your house, there is going to be a problem. You know them dope fiends always hollering about changing. The next thing you know, they done robbed you of all your shit.”
“Shayvon! Watch your mouth and don’t tell me how to run my house. I have faith and that is all I need. Now move her things into that spare room and stop testing me,” Mom scolded.
I went over to Davona and shook her hand, hard. I gave her the meanest mug I had. “I’m Shayvon. So… how long you been sober?”
“Shayvon! Just take her things into the house!” Mom shouted. “Davona, I apologize for my son’s rude behavior. I know I raised him better than that.”
“No, it’s okay. I understand his concern. Feel free to ask me anything. You are his mom, and he has your best interest at heart. I get that,” Davona replied.
Mom was tripping for letting this female move in with her. Talking about she understands my position. Da fuck she mean?
She will never understand my position about my mom. My main concern was that I might have to murk this bitch, if she ends up stealing from my mom or letting some fuck nigga come up in there, messing up shit. I had bought so much for my mom’s house; from the outside, you wouldn’t know it, but her interiors were laced from top to bottom.
“Thank you baby, for helping Davona bring her belongings inside the house,” Mom said, as she hugged me tight. “Do you think you would be able run her to the store before you leave?”
“I mean, I guess so,” I said, trying not to be too disrespectful. With that said, I opened the passenger door of my car for Davona, but instead of closing it behind her, I left it open.
I was two seconds away from yelling out, hell nah; I’m not a damn chauffeur. I held my tongue. Good thing my windows was tinted or she would have been walking fa sho.
I reluctantly drove Davona to the store. On top of that risky ass store run, she had the nerve to ask me for a ride to her daughter’s house. Even though I felt that she was being ungrateful, I couldn’t think of a better way to find out more about her, so I drove her there. We finally got to her daughter's house, which coincidentally was not far from where I parlay. Regardless, I still kept my head on a swivel. Keeping in tune with my surroundings had traditionally been a necessity. Therefore, when she was went to the door, I made sure that I had a view of everything that went down.
To my surprise, the baddest bitch I’ve seen in a long time opened the door. That couldn’t be her daughter. The difference between the two of them was like night and day. I did not see any resemblance. I guess the drugs and hard life had carried weight on Davona’s appearance.
Davona stood there smiling and talking to the girl, who did not seem happy to see her. Shortly after they exchanged words, Davona came running back to the car in tears. I rarely gave a fuck about a person’s tears before that day, but, for some reason, I was concerned about hers.
Even when I was a little dude, I found it hard to have empathy for people. Maybe I was born without empathy, or either I was emotionally unavailable, from seeing my dad be a piece of shit. Not sure about the reason, but I have been cold hearted as fuck for as long as I can remember. I sit at funerals staring and wondering what people felt to make them cry. I just didn’t care as much, I guess. After I set eyes on Davona’s daughter, I wanted to care about her. I started asking Davona all sorts of question.
Davona said that she had not been much of a mother after she started using drugs with Sacaria’s father. Even though Sacaria had both parents living in the same city where she lived, she still never really knew either of them.
Davona had made many attempts to leave the drugs alone and get her life together. One time, Davona and Sacaria moved in with some relatives, as part of an effort to get off the drugs. Davona ended up running off to get high for a few days, and leaving Sacaria behind. Sacaria got molested while Davona was away. Instead of reporting the abuse, Davona just got higher and told Sacaria to put it behind her. This had been a pattern with Davona and Sacaria, so Sacaria was not inclined to believe or forgive Davona.
Even though I didn’t know Sacaria, it was as if I did after hearing her story. It became a goal for me to find out about Davona’s daughter. I wanted to be there for Sacaria emotionally. I just needed to figure out how to do it. Emotions were not my specialty.
Shayvon
A
few weeks had passed since I met Davona. Everything seemed to be going okay with her living situation at Mom’s. I texted Mom every day and asked how things were going; I’d even drop off flowers and food on my way to the trap. I enjoyed treating my mom like a queen. I didn’t care enough about the rest of my family to treat them as good as I treated my mom. I had some family in town but I didn’t treat them any different from the homies. I had their back in the streets and never let them starve, but I wasn’t going to shed no tears over none of them.
Moms had noticed a slight change in me and started asking questions. I was not about to tell her what had been on my mind, so I brushed her off a little without being rude. I needed to get back around to see Sacaria. Funny thing was; I ended up running into Sacaria at the liquor store near my homeboy’s crib. I had never seen her walking around that neighborhood before, but when I got a glimpse, I knew it was Sacaria.
How could I mistake her sexy ass for anyone else? Sacaria had long and pretty, black locks, with a tint of blue. She had a flawless brown complexion, except for a little scar on her chin that you could easily miss. Her big, brown, almost black colored irises seemed to dominate her face like
a cute
kitten. Her body curved so perfectly as if she paid for it, although, I could clearly see how natural it was. She stood at maybe five foot four or so, with perfect proportions. She was not wearing designer gear, but she still looked like she just stepped out of a magazine. Sacaria is one bad bitch by herself with no help.
After I sized her up, I walked up to her near the register. I noticed that she was looking me dead in the face. Her lips were moving, but I hadn’t heard a word that she said. A small frown developed on her face as she noticed that I had not been listening.
“Are you talking to me, shorty
?
” I asked.
“Who do you think I’m talking to? I saw that car you just hopped out of. It looks like the same car that brought Davona to my house the other day. I’m not sure who you are, but Davona is bad business. Don’t bring her dumb ass to my house, unless you plan to get cussed out. Did she try to sell me for some drugs? Oh wait; you must be a pimp. Well, I’m not no—” she said, as she wagged her finger in my face.
Before she managed say another word, I cut her short. “No problem, shorty, I was only doing my moms a favor. I didn’t even know Davona before that day, but I think things happen for a reason.”
“Uh-huh, and what reason would that be? I’m telling you right now, I don’t want anything to do with her or any fuck nigga she hangs with, and that includes you!”
I heard bitterness in her tone as she ranted. I knew she was serious. I also knew she was the shit, because I never let any bitch talk to me in a tone other than one with respect. Today, I let Sacaria talk to me as if I was a true fuck boy, and I did not feel ill towards her in any way. She needed to get that anger and hurt out of her system. She was gorgeous, but her words and attitude did not match her looks.
“Make no mistake about me, shorty. I’m not going to bring trouble your way in any form,” I replied sincerely.
“My name is Sacaria!”
“My bad Sa-caria, beautiful name for a beautiful bit… uh, girl.” I was so used to calling females bitches that it almost slipped out.
No this nigga was not about to call me a bitch. After he brought that tramp ass "mother" of mine to my spot. I am about five seconds from slapping his ass, but he is fine as fuck though. That whip he is driving is no joke. As much as I wanted to give him my number, I cannot associate with anybody that fucks with Davona.
The way he called me shorty almost made me melt. He has to be at least six foot, two inches tall and handsome, with a good grade of hair. Broad shoulders and what looked like it could be a six-pack. Aw, shit! I wonder if the dick is as good as he looks. This fool was looking like gold wrapped in a chocolate package.