Bon Appétit, Page 2

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” Jim demanded.

  “Where’s my brother?”

  “Oh, you’re the motherfucker who shot at us the other day!” Jim was half surprised, half amused.

  “Your motherfucking ass should be dead!”

  “No, you gonna end up dead poppin’ that pistol with no regard to the consequences,” Jim lectured.

  “What would you do if someone was fucking with your brother?”

  “Chuck is your brother?” asked Jim.

  “Yeah, that’s my older brother. What the fuck did you do with him?”

  “Nothing,” Jim stated flatly.

  “Then why is he missing?”

  Jim was puzzled. He had no idea why Chuck’s youngest brother would attack him. Now he was saying that Chuck was missing. Perhaps Steve had something to do with it. Even though Jim instructed Steve to collect the debt, he was sure that he didn’t tell him to harm Chuck.

  “Perhaps he’s getting a piece of pussy,” Jim offered.

  “Naw, Chuck never leaves the house for a piece of pussy, and word on the street is that two masked individuals ran up in the house, but nothing was missing when I was over there.”

  “What’s your name, little man?” asked Jim.

  “James.”

  “Just like me, that figures! You couldn’t be no more than 14 years old and you out here thuggin’ and muggin’ motherfuckers.”

  “I’m 15,” James corrected him.

  “Yeah, you just grew pubic hairs motherfucker!” Jim said. “Listen to me, you need to stop hanging around Chuck because that motherfucker is gonna get you killed. Mark my words, Chuck's days are numbered. You gonna bury him someday, but I’d hate to see a young guy like you suffer as a result of following his fuck ups.”

  “You ain’t gonna do shit to him!” James challenged.

  “Naw, all I want is my money, but I know what he’s done to motherfuckers. I know he’s your brother, but he’s a piece of shit. He done ratted out motherfuckers, fucked his boy’s sisters, letting dudes slob his dick, and fucking little girls still in grammar school. Not to mention, that his name ain’t shit in the street, that’s why he needs you and his brother to back him up. Why you think he hidin’ out in that 2 flat? He owe so many motherfuckers out here that in due time, he’s gonna pay his debt.”

  Jim's words stung James. “Man, I ain’t know it was like that,” James said as tears started down his cheeks.

  “Look, I’ma give you a pass on crying since you 15, but don’t be doing that crying shit no more,” Jim warned. “Listen, you need to move out to the suburbs with your mom. Enroll in school out there and graduate.”

  “Fuck school, it ain’t like you got this big in the street fuckin’ with school!”

  “You have no idea!” Jim said as he turned around. “Carla, grab Steve’s yearbook!”

  Carla waved Jim off. “I ain’t your fucking maid!”

  “Carla, do me a favor one time! I gotta show him something.”

  While Carla retrieved the yearbook, Jim carried James to the front seat of his car and started the engine. He then tied an extra t-shirt around James’s leg.

  “Keep a lot of pressure on your leg.” Jim said. “I don’t need any blood stains!”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the county hospital.”

  “No the fuck I ain’t,” James said, defiantly.

  “Dude, the problem with you young motherfuckers is that yall don’t fucking listen.” Jim said. “Listen, you ain’t gonna die from the stab wound, but if you don’t get the motherfucker treated and it get infected, you could lose your leg. Now shut the fuck up and let me drive you to the hospital!”

  Carla returned. “Here’s the yearbook you asked for.”

  “Good, now get in!”

  Jim put the car in drive and sped to the hospital. Once they arrived, Jim parked in front of the emergency room entrance, carried the young boy to the front desk, and got him registered. Carla drove Jim’s car to the parking lot and joined them.

  Chapter 6

  “Jim, what about Steve and Jessica?”

  “I haven’t forgotten, but I couldn’t leave James bleeding like that.” Jim explained.

  “Why not? He tried to kill you!”

  “He’s a kid!" said Jim, sympathetically. Do you remember how you acted as a kid?”

  “Yes, I was a very good kid.”

  “Very good at giving blow jobs!” Jim countered.

  “I see you don’t appreciate shit,” Carla said. “I save your life and you call me a teen whore.”

  “I call the self-righteous like I see ‘em.”

  “And you were probably the neighborhood thief!”

  “Hey Jim, is this you in high school?” James shouted from a distance.

  “Lemme see,” Jim said, searching. “Yep, that’s me right there!”

  “That’s a nice Bill Cosby sweater!” James joked.

  “Haha, thanks!”

  “Wait! You were in the National Honor Society?” James asked, surprised.

  “Sure was.”

  “What! There’s no way in that could have happened,” Carla fumed. “Let me see that!”

  “Go ahead, look at it” Jim said, unfazed.

  “You were in the math club, physics club, won the academic decathlon, won all-district in track and cross country,” Carla said, reading the impressive list in disbelief.

  “Damn Jim, you were valedictorian?” James asked.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Carla flipped the pages, growing more and more astonished as she saw more and more of Jim’s pictures and acheivements. She was completely stunned at how brilliant Jim was in his youth. He had more academic accomplishments in high school than she did. In fact, she found his participation in the math and physics clubs quite impressive.

  “I just don’t understand how you can be the same person who won first place in the bridge construction contest,” Carla said. “You were a child prodigy!”

  “Yeah, how did you get so gangsta?” added James.

  “You don’t think valedictorians can be street hustlers?” Jim asked.

  “They usually aren’t,” Carla said, matter-of-factly.

  “Well… I got into gambling after college.”

  “COLLEGE!” Carla exclaimed, again unable to contain her surprise.

  “Yeah, I’m only 12 credit hours away from my Master's.”

  “In what?”

  “Mathematics.”

  “I ain’t think it was that deep,” said James, still surprised. “Why didn’t you finish your degree?”

  “Student loans were kicking my ass!” Jim explained.

  “I’m sure you got scholarships,” Carla asked. “Why take out student loans?”

  “Because I wanted to live off campus and invite women over to my apartment like any other young college kid. My mom would send money, but not enough to pay rent.”

  James and Carla were both stunned.

  “What kind of story did you all expect?” Jim shrugged. “That my mom was strung out on drugs and daddy wasn’t around? Nope, I had a great upbringing. My grandmother gave me a lot in addition to what my mom and dad gave me. My dad was a firefighter and my mom was a police officer.”

  “Hell naw, yo’ moms the laws?” James asked.

  “No, she’s retired now. Did you call your mom?”

  “Yeah,” replied James.

  “Good! Now Carla and I gotta go, but remember what I told you. And tell your mom that you love her.”

  “Yall can’t leave me! I gotta find Chuck.” James pleaded.

  “So you don’t remember what I told you about Chuck?”

  “Sure I do!”

  “I hate to say this, but Chuck is a lost cause in his own bullshit. You got your whole life ahead of you. This street shit ain’t worth it.”

  “Then why you ain’t get out?”

  “I will get out, but
there’s one more thing that I have to take care of first,” Jim answered. “Look, if I find your brother, I’ll give you a call. Carla, write down his number for me.”

  “Sure, math geek.” Carla cracked.

  Chapter 7

  Jim and Carla slowly drove out of the hospital parking lot as Carla became anxious to ease the tension of their silence. “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “We’re going to find Steve and Jessica like you wanted.” This was the first time Jim had referred to Jessica as "Jessica" instead of "Jessy" since they first started seeing each other.

  “Jim, pull over please.”

  “Any particular reason why?”’

  “Can you just pull over!” Carla demanded.

  Jim exited the highway and drove into a Gold Arch parking lot where he parked. Carla looked at Jim as her eyes softened like never before. He turned to his right with curious eyes and began to forget about her smart-aleck remarks. An awkward silence between the two of them ensued.

  “You must have wanted a #2 value meal,” Jim said facetiously.

  “Why do you always front like this?” Carla challenged.

  “What exactly do you mean?”

  “Like you’re this hard, gangsta type dude. You should’ve been helping me with my homework in high school?”

  “You didn’t go to my school,” Jim reminded her.

  “I didn’t have the luxury of attending magnet school. I didn’t pass your school’s entrance exam.”

  “That’s too bad. We could have used a better mascot.”

  Carla rolled her eyes. “Jim, I’m serious and you’re here calling me a mascot.”

  “Naw, we needed you on the cheerleading squad.”

  Carla blushed and smiled as she turned her head to the right, trying to shield her face away from Jim’s curious eyes. “Look, I don’t need you to tell me how attractive I am. I don’t need your validation–” as she feebly attempted to appear indifferent about Jim’s assertion.

  “So what do you need... Carla?”

  “For you to tell me why a man as brilliant as you would be involved in illegal gambling.”

  “What difference does it make? You’ve always put me down every chance you got.”

  “That’s when I thought you had the IQ of a poker chip.”

  “Those days are long gone," Jim admitted. I probably do have the IQ of a poker chip now. I’m a hustler these days.”

  “Why?”

  “Initially, I began playing Texas Hold ‘Em after I saw that it was a thinking game, believe it or not. I won quite a bit of money hustling side games and home games.”

  “But it’s gambling!”

  “Not all gambles are the same. For instance, slots require no strategy, you just put your money in and pull the lever. Any idiot can do that. With poker, you gotta know what you’re doing.”

  “I wanna learn how to play poker,” Carla said, switching gears.

  Jim squinted, puzzled, because he knew Carla detested gambling for as long as he had known her. She once threw a wild temper tantrum when she found Steve betting Jim $1000 on a Bulls game breaking a 52” plasma TV in the process. Nevertheless, Jim went along with her request.

  “You got any money?”

  “No.”

  “Then how the fuck do you expect us to play?”

  “We can bet our clothes?” Carla asked playfully, shifting gears yet again.

  Jim’s body instantly jerked to the left, hitting his head against the driver side window in the process. Caught completely off guard, he could not believe what he was hearing. In fact, Jim hadn’t actually processed what Carla proposed. Jim squinted, rubbed his chin, then slumped down in his driver’s seat.

  “So you want to bet our clothes after a few practice sessions, right?” Jim replied, trying to keep up.

  “No. Why waste time, Jim? We need to bet our clothes from the beginning.”

  Jim abruptly changed the subject back to the original topic. “I need to call Jessica!”

  Jim fumbled with his phone and called Jessica on his speed dial, hitting the speaker button by accident. Jessica picked up on the third ring. With Carla sitting on the passenger side, he couldn’t wait to start questioning her whereabouts.

  “Hello?” Jessica answered.

  Jim wasted no time. “Jessy, where have you been?”

  “I’m trying to eat fucking dinner here and you been calling me all day! Why?”

  Shocked by her audacious tone, Jim paused, then realized the time. “Where the fuck could you be eating dinner at fucking 3:00 am?”

  “None of your fucking business!”

  “Bitch, it is my business if you’re fucking my husband!” Carla interrupted.

  “Hang up! Hang up!” Steve whispered frantically.

  “I don’t have time for this bullshit!”

  (Beep!)

  Jim desperately called back several times. He was unsuccessful each time; Jessica had turned her phone off, automatically sending him to voicemail. Jim instantly went from being concerned to red-hot angry. “Did you hear what this bitch said? I can’t fucking believe this shit!”

  Carla began yelling hysterically. “I’m going to kick that’s bitch’s ass! Then after I kick her ass, I’m going to kill Steve! I don’t know who the fuck she think she is, but Jessica is messing with the wrong bitch. I’d don’t give a fuck if she’s your girlfriend!”

  Jim started the car and peeled rubber.

  “What the fuck… where are we going, Jim?”

  Jim pulled a gun out of his console. “We’re gonna go find Steve and Jessica!”

  Chapter 8

  Jim sped down the freeway at the speed of light. His supercharged engine let out monstrous growls each time he accelerated as his aftermarket air intake valve sucked in the cold morning air. Twenty minutes had passed since that phone conversation, and neither one of them said a word after Jim cocked his weapon. Carla’s anger was replaced with fear as she gripped the armrest tighter than a handlebar. With the passing of each car her stomach contracted with her feeling as if she was going to lose every meal she had eaten in the past month.

  “Jim, you’re not going to kill Steve are you?”

  “Not unless I have to.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Carla regretted her decision to inform Jim. What if I had never called Jim? What if I had never overheard Steve’s phone conversation? This could have waited until he had gotten home. Now I’m stuck in the car with this crazy motherfucker! I’m going to die tonight, I’m going to die tonight. Had I not been ear-hustling I would have never heard Steve talking to Jessica. I would have never called Jim, and I wouldn’t be in the car with this psycho! Oh my God! What have I gotten myself into? I’m going to die tonight. I’m going to fucking die. He’s going to kill me.

  Steve dimmed his headlights and drove onto Jessica’s block.

  Carla let out a scream reserved for horror movies and amputated limbs. “Jim what the fuck are you doing? I don’t wanna do this! Let’s go home. Please.. let’s go home,” Carla cried.

  “Carla! Stop screaming at me and look at the black vehicle over there… Do you recognize it?”

  “No”

  Jim brandished his gun and put it to Carla’s temple. “I’m going to ask you one more fucking time and you better not fucking lie to me! Do you recognize that vehicle?”

  Carla desperately wanted to lie and say she didn’t, but she felt Jim’s eyes, seemingly staring into her soul with the scowl of an angry beast. Jim’s eyes had gone from soft and loving to evil and venomous as they pierced her.

  “Yes, it’s Steve’s.”

  “Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again!” Jim reached into his console and gave Carla a travel pack of Kleenex. “Pull yourself together before we go in there. There’s no telling what we’ll walk in on.”

  “You’re going to kill them, aren’t you Jim?”

&
nbsp; Jim looked at her as he unwittingly twirled his gun toward her. “You have five minutes to get yourself together Carla. There’s no turning back!”

  “I’m ready when you are.” Carla said, aware that she was unable to mask the reluctance in her voice.

  Jim and Carla quietly got out of the car, leaving the engine running. When they got to her front porch, Jim searched for the spare key that Jessica kept under the floor mat. It wasn’t there. Jim searched frantically for the next 30 seconds and was still unsuccessful. Jessica had apparently removed the key after she hung up on him.

  “Have you seen a key?” Jim whispered.

  “No!”

  “Carla, I know you feel uncomfortable with this, so you can take my car and go home if you want. I’m going in.”

  “Me too… I didn’t endure an attack by a teenager and a gun to my head to go back now!” Carla said, this time more decisively.

  Jim handed his gun to Carla. “Here, hold this for me.”

  Carla held the gun, but laid it on the window sill as Jim picked his girlfriend’s lock. She was unsure of what would happen next. Fear, anxiety and curiosity consumed her.

  “I got it. Come on!” Jim said.

  Jim and Carla quietly slipped through the door. The living room was dark as Jim and Carla walked through the house. As they began to calm down, they noticed music playing. It was Michael Jackson’s Thriller coming from the basement. Anger began to set in for both of them, but they still tip-toed to the entrance of the stairwell leading to the basement.

  Jim and Carla stood motionless for five minutes before they proceeded downstairs. As they walked down the steps, they could smell food cooking, but no one was in the kitchen. Both quietly assumed it was coming from another house. When they reached the basement, they both heard sounds of pleasure and laughter in unison with the loud music. Jim could hear Jessica saying that this was the best she ever had. The sounds disgusted both Jim and Carla, causing Jim to momentarily lose his concentration as he accidentally bumped against the washer machine in the laundry room portion of the basement. Jessica and Steve's area was sectioned off by drywall and a door.

  “That’s it I can’t take this anymore… I’m going in!” Carla said.

  Before Jim could say another word, Carla barreled in and let out a loud scream. Hearing her screaming, Jim quickly followed her into the room.