Love Intertwined Vol. 1, Page 2

  He nodded, taking note of the breath freezing in front of his face. He huddled in his thin jacket, chastising himself once again for selling the parka.

  "It should warm up in a minute. It gets pretty warm fast." She reached into the back and got a blanket.

  Bill took note of her rear end. She had the ass of a sista. He took the blanket gratefully, then snuggled beneath its warmth.

  "Where to?" she asked anxiously.

  "To cash my check." He gave her instructions to the liquor store around the corner from his apartment. Once there he hopped out quickly. Raina noted that everything about his movements were spastic and anxious. "I'll be right back. You want anything?"

  She shook her head. Quickly he got his money and bought cigarettes.

  "Where to?" She asked when he got back to the car.

  "There's a buffet I usually go to. Good food." Cheap he didn't add. "They have a fish fry on Fridays. Fried chicken, roast beef, greens and cornbread...."

  "You like greens?" She never met a white man that even knew anything about greens.

  "Love greens."

  "Then that sounds like the spot." He gave her instructions. The restaurant was in kind of a bad part of town, so he quickly escorted her inside.

  The place was crowded, as usual. Raina kept her head down and let Bill pay and then lead them to an empty table in the corner.

  She was uncomfortable with the crowd, but Bill was familiar with this area and seemed right at home. He got them soft drinks. When she didn't make a move to go up to the buffet he realized that this place had been a mistake. She didn't like people looking at her.

  "Would you like me to bring back food for both of us?" She nodded, not looking up.

  Uh oh. Not a good sign. She had been laughing just a few minutes ago. He didn't bother to ask her what she wanted to eat. He just grabbed a tray and loaded it with as much food as he could; fish, ribs, chicken, cornbread, rolls, greens, mashed potatoes, green beans, cabbage, french fries....

  He placed the tray in front of her. Raina stared at it, smiled then laughed. "How'd you manage not to drop any of this?"

  "I'm just good like that." He said, relieved at her smile.

  The food was calling to him and Raina virtually disappeared as he hovered over his plate and shoveled food into his mouth. When he thought to look up again her plate was empty. The carcasses of a chicken breasts, a rib bone, traces of potatoes and gravy, crumbs of cornbread and a collard green leaf were all that was left on her plate.

  She watched him silently. He slowed up the shoveling. "Ready for dessert?" he asked, past a mouthful of food.

  She nodded silently. Still chewing, he grabbed another tray and loaded it with cheesecake, German chocolate cake, pudding, pecan pie, pound cake, bread pudding, two glasses of milk, and two mugs of coffee. Lastly he dropped cookies on top of everything.

  She laughed again, eyes getting bright. Bill caught his breath. Easily she was the prettiest girl he'd ever had the pleasure of being around. He wondered what had happened to the side of her face; what had caused the burns?

  She noticed him staring and became self-conscious, quickly ducking her head. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help himself. He reached out and put his fingers under her chin, lifting her head until her eyes met his.

  Raina's breath caught in her throat. Bill was so good-looking. Not the way most of the guys that worked in her office looked with their expensive suits and coiffed hair. Bill was like home; old jeans, unruly blonde hair, two day stubble, and eyes that were just as lost as her own.

  His thumb stroked her chin gently as he watched her intently.

  "Who are you?" he whispered.

  She swallowed. "Who are you?"

  Bill moistened his lips then lowered his hand from her face. He wanted to know her story and he knew that if he ignored her question, or wasn't completely honest then she wouldn't be.

  "I...I was born in a real rough part of town. My parents had their own...thing and I had my own." He glanced at her and remembered that he'd promised himself to be honest. "They were heavy into drugs so I got heavy into drugs." He reached for a cigarette. "You mind if I smoke?"

  "No." Instinctively he didn't offer her one. "When I was a kid I got busted stealing and when Child Protective Services saw how I was living I got taken away. I lived in this halfway house until I was eighteen and...from there it went downhill." He looked off into the distance, wishing for one of those pills in his pocket. "I uh...ran with a bad crowd, got busted dealing, did a couple months in jail." Again he glanced at her to see if she was surprised. She didn't seem to be.

  "Had a hard time getting work when I got out. Started selling again. Got busted again...did more time. Seems like...that's all I know." He sighed. "A friend of a friend got me this job. The pay sucks...but it keeps me out of jail." He drew one last time from the half-smoked cigarette before putting it out. "I don't really get along too well with people," he added.

  "Shy?"

  He shook his head. "No. I just don't like people—in general. Present company excepted. Look...I uh...need to use the restroom. When I come back we need to put a serious dent in this food or management is going to be very upset with us and I've seen them go off on people. It ain't a pretty sight.

  Raina laughed. "Okay."

  Bill was quick to use the facilities. Then he dry swallowed one of the pills in his pocket and hurried to rejoin Raina.

  She had already started on the German chocolate cake.

  "Good?"

  "Delicious." They ate quietly for a moment.

  "You don't have to tell me your story if you don't want to...but I'd like to hear it." She avoided meeting his eyes.

  "Oh, I don't mind. Mine is not a hard story to tell. I had a happy childhood. My parents were awesome to me...and I'm sure I was a bit spoiled. When I was 12 I was at a neighbor's birthday party. Somebody sprayed some funny string at me and it went over the candle's flame, ignited and melted over half of my face...part of my neck, my shoulder and chest and some of my wrist. I've had three surgeries, but it hasn't improved my appearance much."

  Funny string? To him it looked like her face had been sprayed with an accelerant like gasoline or lighter fluid, then ignited. Her skin was melted. Could funny string do that much damage? He nodded as she told her story. It must be something pretty awful if she was sticking to the funny string story.

  "How long have you been working there?" he asked, in the way of changing the subject.

  "Since I was 21. Three years. It's okay work. I like doing phone work." She had once overheard someone saying that she had a face for phone work.

  Bill kept the conversation light until eventually Raina became animated again and laughed easily. He regaled her with stories of his childhood antics.

  Raina was pleased that he didn't seem to want to end the dinner. She didn't. They continued eating the food, though they didn’t put a very big dent in it. But management didn’t bother them, either. Eventually it was time to leave, or risk having their stomach’s burst. Bill stumbled when he got up, his eyes glassy, his laughter bursting out of him.

  Raina knew that he was on something. She'd grown up around drug use. It didn't scare her. He was on something nice, not mean. Not crack certainly; she didn't smell any evidence of the acrid drug. A downer probably, the way his eyes were hooded. White guys liked Vicodin, or maybe Percocet. She hoped it wasn’t meth.

  "Do you drink?" he asked. "There's a bar around the corner. It's not rowdy or anything—not a club—just a bar and a jukebox."

  "Okay." He helped her put on her coat. "You're going to freeze," she said, eyeing his windbreaker.

  "Nah. I'll be okay. We might as well walk. It's not that far." The cold air seemed to revive him because after a moment his eyes were clear again.

  "How's your eye? Still hurt?"

  "No. Not at all."

  "Good." He led her into a dark but pleasant corner bar. He found them a table and they drank beer until after midnight.

 
Bill rested his head on his hand, propping it up by an elbow on the table.

  "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

  She smiled. "When I was ten. I used go with the most handsome boy in the fifth grade. Freddie Logan. He was the best dodge ball player in the entire school. He never let me get hit."

  "I could be your boyfriend. I wouldn't let you get hit." Raina made it easy; talking, feeling good, being himself.

  Raina smiled. "You're drunk."

  "Not from just beer."

  "From seven beers."

  "Maybe."

  "You don't have a girlfriend?"

  "I have A LOT of girlfriends. But...I don't have a girl FRIEND." His head slipped off his hand and almost hit the table.

  Raina stood up then caught herself before she fell back into the chair. Damn...she was drunk too. "Come on. Let's go, Bill. You're drunk."

  He shook his head, smiling. "I'm sorry. You're not mad are you?" he slurred.

  She helped him stand. "I'm not mad. I never got drunk before." She contemplated it. "I'm drunk."

  It was impossible for Bill to walk a straight line so she had to put her arm around him and lead him out of the bar.

  Not a great neighborhood, she remembered. She wanted to hurry to her car but Bill was urging her in a different direction.

  "I live over here, come on." He untangled himself from her and headed down the street.

  She stood frozen in the spot. Bill looked over his shoulder. "It's okay. I live just over there." He reached out and took her hand. "I don't want you to get a DUI because of me. Come on."

  Reluctantly she allowed him to lead her. His hand did feel awfully warm and holding his hand made her feel excitement very deep in the pit of her belly, where the butterflies were just coming to life.

  After a few minutes in the cold, Raina was happy to see that Bill was becoming more and more sober...at least he could walk a straight line without stumbling.

  In less than five minutes they reached a run down apartment building.

  There was a drunk passed out on the floor and the smell of urine was strong. Raina clutched her coat tight around her. Bill put his arm around her shoulder.

  "That's Dog. He won't hurt you." They had to step over his prone body. "Sorry about that. It's not a great neighborhood," he reminded her.

  Raina noted with relief that he didn't seem drunk at all. She relaxed and followed him into a small efficiency apartment. He triple locked the door, which made her feel better.

  "Have a seat. Let me take your coat." It was a surprisingly nice place. Recliner, futon sofa, a modern dinette set outside a small neat kitchen. She sat on the futon and he placed her coat and his jacket on the back of the recliner.

  "I don't have cable TV." He turned on the television set and flipped to a late night talk show. "Is that good?"

  She nodded.

  "I haven't gone to the grocery store," he shrugged, "but I have water."

  "Water's good," she responded.

  He hesitated. "Tap water."

  She smiled with encouragement. "That's fine." The beer had left her thirsty. He returned with two glasses of water.

  Suddenly she felt shy again. She supposed it was being alone in Bill's apartment. "Um...thanks for dinner and the beers."

  "Thank you for the company. I usually just hang out by myself."

  "Because you don't like people?"

  "That, and because there's not too many people around here worth being bothered with."

  "As if I am," she said, with sarcasm. Raina was shocked to hear the words come out of her mouth, and then embarrassed when Bill didn't respond. "Can I use the bathroom?"

  "Through there," he pointed.

  When the bathroom door was closed she let out an anxious sigh. She was so nervous. Quickly she peed, then against her better judgment opened his medicine chest. There had to be something in there to take away the edge....

  Tooth brush, tooth paste, ibuprofen, peroxide, a tin of antacids, dental floss.

  Raina opened the ibuprofen. Bingo. Blue pills, red pill, yellow...she took a little blue pill that she knew to be a Vicodin.

  She liked Bill. She didn't want to be uptight. She wanted to be like at the bar when they were laughing. She swallowed the pill with a palmful of water. Quickly she straightened her hair with her fingers and went back to the living room.

  Bill was snoring softly. Her mouth dropped open. For a moment she stood there and then disappointed, she decided to leave without waking him.

  She put on her coat and undid all three locks. "What are you doing?" Bill jumped up and rushed to the door, opening it to peek out into the hallway. "You were going to walk out there by yourself?"

  Raina shrugged, relieved. Frankly she hadn't wanted to go out in the hall with the drunken man alone. Not to mention trying to figure out how to find her car.

  "Dog is harmless." Bill shut the door and locked it again. "But not everyone in this neighborhood is." He began unbuttoning her coat, and it made Raina's stomach feel funny. Gently he pulled it off her and re-draped it over the recliner. He gestured for her to sit.

  "I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll be right back. Get comfortable."

  Raina began to relax again by small degrees. She sipped some water and stretched in her seat.

  Bill blinked as he saw the long line of her stretched form. It was like a sculpture. As a matter of fact he'd never seen a sculpture that could surpass the beauty in the lines of her body. Careful with this one, he thought. Lord but she was beautiful....

  She ducked her head when she noticed that she was being watched. He sat down next to her. "You shouldn't do that—I mean, at least not with me. I don't mind your scars."

  Raina touched her face quickly, hiding the scars with her hand. "Why? Why don't they bother you? They're ugly."

  Bill shook his head. "I've seen some bad things in my life; much uglier than any burn scars. At least that's just flesh and skin."

  He reached out and moved her hand away from her face.

  "People make you feel ugly...that's why I don't fool with them. People make me feel ugly, and...I don't have any scars."

  "You do." She whispered. "But nobody can see yours."

  "You can," he said, matter-of-factly.

  "By your eyes," was her response.

  "Mostly people tell me my eyes are cold."

  "Maybe because that's all they can recognize. I see something else."

  Bill sighed. He was horrified to feel his eyes sting. "Jeez," he said, pressing his fingers to his wet eyes. "I must be truly fucked up."

  He felt her hands on his wrist. Gently she pulled his hand away.

  "It's okay." She was smiling. "It's okay." Raina inhaled, sighed, then spoke with a shaky voice. "I lied to you."

  Bill looked at her intently.

  "God...." She sighed again. "I didn't have a good childhood. Not in the least. All of my brothers and sisters were raised in foster care and that's all I knew—that and the orphanage. Mostly my foster parents were good and decent, if perhaps a little...distant.

  "Once or twice, though, I had a family where the other kids were hard to deal with. At this one house a bunch of the girls hated me because they said I got special treatment on account I was light skinned with long hair. Truth be told, I did, nine times out of ten. One of the girls cut off my long ponytail and I...lost it. My family was going to send the girl away...but everyone was egging me on, saying that I was punking out.”

  Raina stared into Bills eyes. "It was just hair. It would have grown back." She sighed. "I poured some gasoline into a bowl and flung it at her the night before she left, while she was asleep. It splashed me too. And when I went to light the match...my hand caught on fire. I pressed it against me and then it caught my top and the splatters on my face. I just started running and then I grabbed my face with the hand that had the gasoline on it and it just made it worse." Bill's brow furrowed. She went silent.

  "What about the other girl?"

  "Thank God I didn't touch th
e bed and I ran the other way. Otherwise, the bed would have ignited, killed her, and probably everyone else in the room. As it turned out, I'm the only one that got hurt."

  "God, Raina. God." He took her hands, examining them front and back. "Your hands aren't burned."

  "Just second-degree. That was the first thing I was able to put out by myself. My foster father had to chase me from room to room to put out the flames on my face. By then, the damage was done."

  Bill licked his lips. He pushed her hair back. He saw that her face was horribly askew, rippled like melted wax. Her lips were untouched, but her nose was missing part of the nostril on one side, and he could see she had a cauliflower ear. But it was her eyes...her eyes were incredible, despite....