gled, gleamed with a light sheen of perspiration like they were
bathing in honey. I had to admire Tomica’s technique as she skill-
fully made love to Evette’s body like it was an art that was prac-
ticed by few.
After they finished, I glowered at both of them the way a man
does when he has been deprived of one of life’s greatest gifts–to be
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with two women. I decided right then, since they wanted to play
a nigga like a sucker, I was going to go along with their game, and
when the time was right, I was going to get that ass, introduce
them bitches to Jesus, and take all their shit. Might even take a
piece of ass for tr ying a nigga. Like a thug determined to make
show of my manhood in front of women, I began to stroke myself.
They watched in silence, eyes lidded with curiosity at my cameo
intrusion on their freak show. Like an actor, I just stole the show.
I masturbated long and hard like my hand was the most intimate
creation in the universe, and they watched, fascinated. I did not
know that women got off on that kind of shit, especially lesbians.
I guess regardless of a woman’s sexual preference, in some ways
they still bonded to the laws of nature because they enjoyed seeing
a well-endowed brotha’s stiff penis. Evette just stared, bug eyed,
licking her lips with an intent I knew all too well. Tomica snapped
out of the trance that sexually forbade her to go there, and cut her
eyes at Evette. Innocently, I continued to stroke myself, now
enjoying each moment of it … up and down … faster … faster.
There’s a convulsive reaction that no man can resist when he
reaches that point. The handcuff on my wrist began to rattle a
rhythm that chimed as my top lip curled into a real snarl, and then
I exploded in gushes of three jet streams across the room. Evette
clapped and applauded excitedly like a little girl who had just wit-
nessed her first magic act. I reclined back in the love seat still hold-
ing my erect penis like it was a dangerous weapon.
“Gosh, have you measured that thang?” Evette asked sheep-
ishly.
“Twelve and a half inches,” I lied as I wiped the sweat off.
Tomica gave me a look that did not favor me. Like maybe I was
overstepping my boundaries. She couldn’t help but notice that
Evette was attracted to me. I forced myself to calm down, but shit,
these broads were looking like super models. I was dr unk and try-
ing to keep the thug desperation off my wary face.
“Stop it! Stop it!” Tomica yelled. She was on her feet, her
breasts bounced as she stalked toward me. In the drunken fog of
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my mind I saw wide hips swaying, a gap between her legs and hair
that reminded me of a small kitten.
“Put that thang up now!” she screeched. Her voice a brusque
command. I placed my joint back into my pants not trusting my
eyes to look up at her, for she would see the brutal reality of my
soul. I had no love for hoes. I couldn’t risk losing my element of
surprise. For some reason Tomica continued to stare down at me,
like maybe she was surprised that I would pull out a big ole dick
and choke my chicken. Hell, I spent years in prison jacking off on
fuck books and for me it was an honor to have two bitches to
watch. I reached out to touch her, actually, I tried to grab her.
With feline quickness she scratched the back of my hand drawing
blood. Somehow it only seemed to excite me more.
“Evette put on some clothes,” Tomica said over her shoulder
giving me a look that said I had fucked up bad.
Evette walked to the other side of the room and put on a black
and gold smock. I could still see the outline of her figure. Tomica
put on a nightgown and drew the strings like she was forever con-
cealing her body from me. I looked down at my lap at my penis–it
had fainted in my pants. I had two gorgeous women in a hotel
room and couldn’t have sex with either one of them.
As Tomica unlocked my handcuffs, I fought with all my might
to bridle my anger. This playing the role of a lame shit was start-
ing to take its toll.
that they had to leave in a hurry to go clean out the ATM and take
care of other matters. She detailed a plan about a jewelry store
caper where all I had to do was walk into the store, holler at the
top of my lungs and fall to the ground, like I was having a seizure.
It sounded pretty easy to me. So I just played dumb, I shrugged
my shoulders dancing my eyebrows with an idiot’s smile and
replied, “Okey-dokey,” in my best lame voice. For the first time
Tomica laughed at me, and I knew it was more of a relief that she
found the perfect fool to pull off the heist.
Evette lay in bed on the satin sheets looking at me with her
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long legs crossed. I just stared at the carpeting, at the stain where
I poured my drink, and fought with every fiber in my body to
keep my composure, act like a square and play the lame game.
Around this time tomorrow, the tables would turn. My plan was
to rob them bitches, and maybe even out of spite, handcuff them
together and grudge fuck Tomica in the ass for tr ying to be the
man.
“What size clothes and shoes you wear?” Tomica asked, dis-
turbing my daydream. I gave her my measurements without ever
asking any questions. Afterward, Tomica walked me to the door.
It hurt me to my heart to have to walk out that door not getting
what I had come for. I took one last sniff of their feminine scent,
and feeling like a rejected whore, I moped past her, only this time
I was not faking it. I was humiliated.
I staggered back to my room, lay in my bed fully clothed,
drunk and frustrated still smelling the sexual aroma of those two
women’s per fume emanating out of my pores. Their erotic per-
formance still heavily on my mind. I felt my pistol, Jesus, under
my pillow and smiled to myself promising that tomorrow would
be my day, tomorrow the lame would turn pimp. I had a trick for
them bitches and as soon as we pulled off the heist, it was on.
Puzzled, I lay in bed in the dark intrigued by the women. They
pulled off the credit card scheme with ease. Then Trina’s face
flashed on the screen of my mind like lightning causing me to
flinch uncontrollably with anger. In my mind again, I swore if I
ever saw her again I was going to kill her. What I didn’t know was
that we were going to meet again, soon.
*****
The next day at 2:34 in the afternoon, I was startled from my
sleep. Someone was pounding on the door. Hastily I grabbed my
gun from under the pillow and walked over to the door looking
out the peephole. To my relief it was Tomica and Evette. Tomica
was beating on the door with her shoe. I had a slight hangover. To
my brain it sounded like a little man was hammering on my skull
with a sledge hammer. My ton
gue felt like sand paper, my throat
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was dry, I was so thirsty I needed something cold to drink. For a
fleeting second I thought about opening the door putting my pis-
tol to Tomica’s temple for making all the goddamn noise on my
door. Black women can be so ignorant.
I took a deep breath, opened the door, showed them my lame
face, blood cracked eyes from my hangover and all. The women
stalked right past me, shopping bags in tow. I shut the door, went
to the bathroom, pissed like a race rose, drank water from the
faucet like I had been out in the desert for weeks. Looking in the
mirror I splashed water on my face and washed the dried saliva off
my cheeks. I could hear their chatter in the next room. I walked
in just as they were placing clothes on the bed–men’s clothes. A
black suit with a gray tie. Shoes, socks, shir ts, even underwear for
me. I had to do a second take at them. Both women were decked
out, dressed to kill. Tomica wore a sophisticated, conservative
brown two-piece suit with black stockings and low-heeled black
pumps. Her hair was stylishly coiffured into long locks of dazzling
curls that seemed to enhance her lovely face. She looked like she
was ready for another day at the office on Wall Street. Evette, the
more feminine of the two, wore a short mini dress showing off her
long legs and nice figure. Her heart-shaped blouse exposed even
more cleavage with its wide neckline and low cut, hanging off her
shoulders. She wore her long hair straight and untamed like a
white girl letting it cascade down her shoulders. Her face was
rough with what I thought was too much makeup but some men
would find it attractive in a way. Her thin Chanel gold eyeglasses
set her off into that new cultured elegant beauty that was becom-
ing vogue at the time. She carried a mystic that could make you
fantasize.
OK, I’ll admit, these two women so far had amazed the hell
out of me. I had not seen one flaw in their game. I was in the
minor league, they gave me a glimpse of the pros.
Finally I was dressed. Eight hundred dollar suit, three hundred
dollar kicks, Armani shirt, gold cufflinks, the whole nine yards.
One thing I can say, these women knew all the expensive clothes
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to steal. They dressed me sharp as a tack in the finest threads. I
couldn’t help but admire myself in the mirror. In the corner of my
eye I could see Evette watching me, too. On my way out the door
Evette passed me a leather briefcase and winked her eye.
In the car, Tomica was talking me to death, going over each
and ever y detail of what I was supposed to do once I entered the
jewelr y store. She talked so damned fast. With her brow-furrowed
eyes, she penetrated deep concerns of something at first I could
not read, and then it dawned on me, I had seen and felt it many
times before: fear. The fear of the unknown, riveting with courage,
in the duel of a no compromising mind, when it was decided that
there was no turning back. Even though I threw bricks at the
chain gang and robbed niggas like it was a sport, I realized from
looking at Tomica’s face, in a sense their hustle was no different
than mine. They relied only on sheer wit and cunning savvy but
we shared that one common bond–the fear of getting caught.
Finally we road in silence. R. Kelly crooned something about
his mother on the radio, how she was his favorite girl. As I drove,
I made a mental note to call my stepmother. I glanced in the
rear view mirror. Evette stared at me with eyes hooded, it was
something that I would never be able to read. I told myself that
after I robbed them I was going to do something special with her,
some freaky shit.
The jewelry store was located in the hub of Tallahassee on
Tennessee Street in a shopping mall. It was Saturday and the place
was packed. Its pristine décor looked somewhat out of place.
Maybe it was how white people were able to dress up places that
cater mostly to the rich.
As I pushed on the revolving doors I couldn’t help but admire
my reflection in the glass. As soon as I walked inside my heart
skipped a beat. I don’t know what it is about white folk’s estab-
lishments that are so intimidating. It wasn’t just that, I realized
that I did not have a clue as to what these women were going to
do. How were they going to pull off such a heist in a classy joint
like this? This was out of my league. Playing the lame game had
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me in the blind; however, I understood that they wanted me to
know as little as possible in the event I got caught and turned
snitch.
Shopping music played from the speakers as shoppers lazily
browsed. With hands in my pockets, I causally tried my damnest
to blend in. I checked out the palatial splendor of the joint. It was
a very expensive place. Now I could see why they had me dress up
for the occasion. The diamonds in the showcase windows looked
unreal. So much ice, I could not believe my eyes. Ever y now and
then my eyes would dart to the door waiting for the women to
make their entrance.
“May I help you?” a genial voice asked.
I did not want to look up. Out of all these people in the store,
she had to ask me. Of course, I was the only Black person. I
adjusted my tie and smiled brightly.
“No thank you. I’m just looking,” I said awkwardly to the
white woman.
She opened her mouth to speak, but thought better of it. After
she left, I exhaled deeply, adjusting my tie again, it was starting to
become habit forming. I walked to the end of the counter, posi-
tioning myself so I could see the door when Tomica and Evette
entered. I pretended to be interested in a pair of sunglasses. I tried
them on looking into one of them small mirrors that they have on
the eyeglass rack. That’s when I saw him, like eyes in the back of
my head. I saw the huge white man watching my every step. He
had to be the store security, probably an off duty cop. I wasn’t sure
but I had a gut feeling. I wondered if should I warn the girls when
they came in. I moved on just as Tomica and Evette came in the
store. My heart raced in my chest. Should I tell them about the
cop? Hell, I had no idea what they were going to do.
They wasted no time, walked right up to the clerk pointing at
something they wanted in the case. I looked over my shoulder at
the cop. He was still there watching me like I had already stolen
something. Shit! From across the store I turned my head just in
time to see Tomica give me the signal just as the clerk was passing
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a diamond bracelet to Evette as if it were a royal gift to a princess.
Even from across the room, I could see the diamonds shimmering
like celestial stars captured in a delicate hand.
“Thirty thousand dollars,” the clerk mouthed.
Somewhat delayed, I went into my animated act
.
“Help! Help! Oh god! Someone help me!” I yelled going down
on my knees clasping my chest like I was having a massive heart
attack. People rushed over to me including a few store clerks. The
clerk that was attending Tomica and Evette turned her head for
one split second, and that was all it took for Evette to make the
switch. I dropped my briefcase to the floor in an overly dramatic
fashion and keeled over.
In a frenzy, white folks were all over me. In the meantime,
Evette handed the lady the fake bracelet and they walked over to
me as if concerned, only they walked right out of the door. The
clerk placed the fake bracelet in the display case and hurried over
to me and placed her hand over her thin lips as she looked down
at me sprawled on the floor in pain.
“Call an ambulance!” someone shirks.
“Are you OK?” a white woman asked, bending down, embrac-
ing me. She had the bluest eyes I had ever seen. She had blond
hair, and her lips were glossed in a way that made them appear
sensuous. Her forehead was creased with lines of concern. Her
perfume engulfed me, fumigating my nostrils. She loosened my
tie opening my shirt.
“Oh, no,” I moaned pathetically. Now the entire store gath-
ered to gawk at me. I figured about five minutes had passed of my
impromptu performance. I got off the floor to the hushed drones
of disbelievers as they looked at me in awe, like a dead man walk-
ing. Someone tried to grab my arm, told me I ought to try to wait
until the ambulance arrived. The white lady that was trying to
resuscitate me affectionately touched my arm and told me to wait
for the ambulance. I thanked her and picked up my briefcase and
squeezed through the throngs of shoppers that had gathered with
the number thirty thousand in my mind. I smirked as I rushed
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through the revolving doors walking out into the scorching sum-
mer heat. The car was parked up ahead. As I walked, my mind
plotted on how I was going to beat them bitches out of their rich-
es.
Up the street, I saw them standing next to the car with its
doors wide open. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. My pace