So
I came to the conclusion that Love had to die.
But not just die; die horribly. The
worst possible death I could conjure.
You see Love didn’t deserve to live.
Shouldn’t have been allowed to continue his horrible interfering and
meddling just to drop his victims when they were at their weakest. So I began to plot ways of trapping the
fucker and punishing him in the proper fashion.
But how to find Love. The last
time I had seen her she was roller-skating through Thompson Square Park in
leopard print leotards and a fluorescent pink tank top. Unfashionable bitch. I figured Harry Tuke
might know where to find her.
“What’s
the word kid? Yo
why you got that grill on your face for?”
“I’m
lookin’ for somebody.”
“Who
you lookin’ for?”
“Love.”
“Ahh shit man!”
This
was the expression I expected. Nobody
likes to fuck with Love because Love doesn’t hold back. Love’s the type of mutherfucker
to take shit to the next level and leave you wide open with no kind of support.
“Yo man, what the fuck are you doin? You know better than to fuck with that mutherfucker. You
remember what she did to Anton. Why you tryin’ to go out like that?”
“Listen,
I just went through one month of livin’ hell yo. My insides are
all fucked up and over what? Nah, that mutherfucker’s through.
So you seen her or what?”
“Man,
the last time I saw Love he was shakin’ his ass at
G-spot, uptown. He was dancin’ to that house music shit with two dudes dressed
almost as bad as him. You shoulda seen this mutherfucker. He was wearin’ this
banana yellow shirt with blue and white striped pants and pink running
shoes. Dude was trippin’
man. That was last Saturday. God knows where that fool is now.”
“Aight man, thanks.
I’ll get up with you later.”
“Yo, you better take this.”
Tuke pulled a chrome 9mm
handgun from his jacket and thrust it into my right palm.
“If
you find that mutherfucker, put two caps in his ass
for me!”
“No
doubt! Good lookin’
out.”
I
guess you probably want to know what happened.
You’re probably wondering why I’m all hyped up and bent on finishing
Love off for good. Her name was
Stephanie. We worked together at the
Roosevelt Library computer lab during the spring and summer. She was this light skinned black girl with a
mean switch to her walk and a mischievous grin always on her face. Damn, she was good looking. Most of the guys in the lab were sweating her
like a pair of gym shorts in the summer, but I kept my cool because I figured I
never had a shot in the first place.
I
remember the first time I saw her. She
was wearing this blue and green spring jacket and when she unzipped it, good
God, what a sight. Now her breasts
weren’t huge mind you. They were just
perfect is all. I don’t think I ever saw
a nicer pair before or after in my life.
And just imagine that she had a bra and shirt on covering them up. Jack, the lab manager, introduced her to all
the guys and gave us our shift assignments for the week. Guess who was working with me that night?
Talking
to her was real easy because I had no pressure.
Hell, I had no chance so there was no reason to worry about screwing up
in the first place. She told me about
where she lived and her family and of course her boyfriend. Even better for me. Now there was no chance that I’d get the
crazy idea of trying to talk to her in any kind of romantic way. The lines were clearly drawn and I didn’t
have to worry about crossing them. So we
chatted and made jokes and low and behold we became real good friends. And to the chagrin of the other guys we
started hanging out after work. Things
were great as far as I was concerned.
Who needs a girlfriend when you can hang out with a gorgeous woman and
make all the men envy the shit out of you anyway?
And
then the unthinkable happened. She broke
up with her boyfriend. Jesus
Christ! Now I had to do something. No self-respecting man would stand by and let
a beautiful woman like Stephanie slip through his hands when he was in the best
possible position to make her his. What
a horrible philosophy, no doubt spawned by that son-of-a-bitch. I knew he was hanging around, but I didn’t
know what he was about at the time so I just ignored him. Stephanie and I used to make jokes about
Love’s awful outfits and the way her horrible lipstick choices seemed to be
smeared all over her face. It was all
fun and games, but little did I know that Love was working his magic on me.
There
he was, on the nine-train heading uptown.
He was sitting across from a young man and woman holding hands and
staring into each other’s eyes. If only
those poor bastards knew what Love had in store for them they would leap up from
their seats and tear Love apart with their bare hands. It was OK, I would handle the fucker my
self. I would save them from the
inevitable heartbreak.
I
pulled the chrome weapon and pointed, but Love was quick on his feet and the
sudden jerk of the train threw me off balance.
Love bolted towards the other end of the car and I opened fire at his
back. The gun issued powerful barks as
bullets ricocheted off the train’s walls, just missing Love’s quickly darting
figure. She managed to pull the sliding
door to the next car open and duck through while I was still firing. Some of the passengers gave me annoyed looks,
but to hell with them, I was trying to finish the bitch off once and for all. Hell I was doing them a favor.
I
reached the end of the car and yanked the closing door back open. Love was already half way across the next car
by the time I got through the door to the other car. I fired two more shots, missing horribly. The train had just made it into the station
and was in the process of braking. I saw
him in the next car running frantically.
I decided I would disembark and get him from the outside of the
train. As the silver doors parted I
jumped out and shoved my way through the waiting passengers in the
station. I tried to keep an eye on Love
through the windows of the train, but the crowd was making it difficult to spot
him. He was wearing a lime green
knee-length summer dress with blue polka dots.
Even still I had trouble focusing on him through the mash of people.
I
increased my speed as the passengers in the station diminished. I saw him two cars down and still heading
towards the back. The conductor made the
“Stand clear of the closing doors” call and I dove through the closing train
doors. As I picked myself up off the
grungy floor of the train, we began to move.
And there she was standing on the platform waving to me. At the last minute Love flipped me the
finger, turned, and walked away.
Anyway,
Stephanie had apparently broken up with her boyfriend. So my nerves began to set in and I had this
weird feeling in my stomach every time I saw her. Naturally the rest of the guys began to swarm
around her when they found out she was unattached. I still had the inside track but I could see
that some were beginning to work their linguistic magic all over her. Then when things were getting bleak she asked
me to dinner and promptly informed me that she was back with her man. Oh thank God!
At
least that was my first impression.
Later the resentment set in. OK,
so none of the other guys could get to her, but damn it neither could I. And suddenly I came to the conclusion that I
really did want to be closer to her.
What was I supposed to do? I was
catching feelings and there wasn’t any aspirin or vitamin in the world that would
get rid of them. Needless to say Love
was in the lab every day we worked together, and even when it was just me by
myself. There he was in his purple tank
top and green jeans with yellow construction boots. There she was in her pink alligator suit with
black lipstick and her ridiculous three-gallon cowboy hat.
So
I had feelings, but I kept them to myself, because no one needed to know how I
felt, especially Stephanie. But Love
wouldn’t let things sit like that. Mason
Barstowe, one of my buddies from the lab decided to
sit down and chat with me at length about Stephanie.
“Hey
man, what’s goin’ on between you and Steph?”
“What
do you mean ‘What’s goin’ on?’ Nothing’s goin’
on. Why would something be goin’ on?”
“Come
on man, we all see the way she looks at you and the way you look at her. You guys hangin’
out all the time. You might as well be a
couple.”
“Do
I have to remind you that she has a man?
And that that man ain’t me.”
“Do
I have to remind you how she looks at you?
Don’t try to play it off man, it’s all good.”
“Look,
even if I did have something for her, she’s got a man so there’s not much I can
do right?”
“Whatever
you say player.”
“Yeah.”
OK,
so people were beginning to read me, that wasn’t good because Stephanie would
see through me in a hurry. Would it
matter if she were still with this guy?
Probably not, so at least for now I could relax without wondering what
would happen. I could be comfortable in
the feelings I had for her because I would never have to express them. If only I had paid more attention to the
skinny bastard in the paisley jumpsuit who had been shadowing me for some time
now, things might have been different.
I
ran into my boy Big Mike at the barbershop.
“What’s
the word Son?”
“I’m
lookin’ for Love.”
“Ahh shit! Come with
me man!”
So
I followed him down the stairs behind the barbershop and into his private
studio. He took a seat on a big black
metal trunk and gestured for me to take the chair directly across from him.
“What’s
goin’ on man? Is
it that girl Stephanie from your job?”
“Yeah
man. It went pretty bad and now I want
some closure. Some permanent fucking
closure.”
“Okay,
I can understand that, but you gotta understand that Love ain’t
a easy character to track down and he’s much harder to ice. So hard in fact, that no one’s been able to
pull it off yet. What makes you think
you can put an end to it?”
“Because
it’s gotta be done and I’m the man to do it.”
“Listen,
spare me the macho bullshit, okay. Why
can’t you just let this thing go? Hell,
we all been in Love and we all been hurt by it.
We pick up our lives where we dropped ‘em and
we keep it movin’ man. That’s how this game works. Now you wanna go
and kill the ref cause he made a bad call.
It’s just not logical man. You
should be goin’ out havin’
some fun –“
“Yo Mike, I don’t need to be hearin’
this shit all right! Everybody keeps tellin’ me to go out and have a good time and live it
up. I was never that kinda
guy, okay. I don’t go out that much and
when I do I ain’t lookin’
for some hoochie to bang and then be out, okay. That shit ain’t
me.”
“Shit,
you got it bad man. But you gotta get
over this. It can’t be that bad.”
“I’m
tryin’ to get over this. That’s what none a Yall
seem to get. I’m tryin’
to get over this, but I’m gonna do it my way. And my way is puttin’
that turkey on ice. You feel me? I don’t want that in one or two years time
that mutherfucker’s gonna
come back on the scene and start fuckin’ up my shit
again. Fuck that!”
“Shit. All right.
I got something here that might help you.”
Mike
stood up and turned to the huge metal case he was sitting on. He produced a tiny key and unlocked the
case. Inside the case was an assortment
of guns. Much bigger guns than the one Tuke had given me.
He rummaged in the case for a few seconds and finally produced a
gleaming black rifle with a scope attachment.
“Yo, I ain’t no sniper man. My aim just ain’t
that good.”
“Yo this baby right here practically aims itself. Come on, let’s go up on the roof so I can
show you how she works.”
So
we made our way to the roof and Mike set up the gun. He gestured for me to take a look through the
scope. The faces of people a block and a
half away danced before my eyes as if they were a few feet away.
“Look,
all you gotta do is look through the scope and when you see what you want to
hit, pull the trigger. Simple as
that. If you’re gonna
get Love, you might as well get her when she’s not lookin’. So let me ask you for the last time, you sure
about this man?”
“I’ve
never been more sure about anything Mike.
Love’s gonna pay and pay big.”
Things
began to get strange with Stephanie and her boyfriend. She began telling me stories of him getting
rough with her. Not hitting her, but
grabbing her and pushing her and things of that sort. I gave her my requisite warnings, but assumed
everything would be fine.
“Steph, if he’s stressin’ you like
this, maybe you should consider breaking things off for good hunh?”
“It’s
just that things are kind of bad for him right now. He’s been fighting with his Mom for a while
about his family moving to Florida. He
still hasn’t found a job and he’s just not feeling that good about himself
lately.”
“Oh,
so that gives him a right to get rough with you?”
As
her stories continued, my bond with her became more ingrained and
stronger. I began to empathize and
sympathize with her and her boyfriend was steadily becoming the enemy in my
mind. Then one day when she wasn’t even
supposed to be working she came into the lab wearing a baseball cap and her
hair hung in an odd way down and around her face. I made some sort of wisecrack about her
appearance, thinking that she was just clowning around. Then I saw the tear escape her right eye and
I knew things had gone from bad to worse.
I
took her in the back room and examined the red welt on her temple where his
fist had landed. I examined the bruises
on her right arm and shoulder plus her ribs where he had kicked her repeatedly
when she was down on the ground. All the
while the tears streamed down her face and I was in shock, not knowing what to
think our how to react to such a situation.
All I could say was “it’s going to be all right.” I didn’t believe a word of it but I didn’t
know what else to say.
The
buzzer rang signifying that someone needed service up front. I went to see who it was and there was her
boyfriend staring me in the face.
“Is
Steph here?”
Jesus
Christ, what was I to do? Here was the
bastard of all bastards asking me if he could see the girl he had recently
finished stomping all over. A girl I had
started caring deeply for. I couldn’t
say a word and didn’t have to either.
Stephanie came out. He gestured
to her asking whether they could step out and talk. I looked at her and she gave me an “it’s gonna be all right” look.
They left together with me staring after them in complete shock. Never had I felt so emasculated than at that
very moment. Love must have been
grinning from ear to ear.
I
posted myself on a rooftop overlooking Thompson Square Park. Through the lens of the scope I scanned the
park for any sign of Love. As I scanned
the crowd, I contemplated all the painful and torturous things Love had done to
me.
I
tried to rationalize how Love worked.
Love had become like a giant magnifying glass. He magnified everything to the point where
those things became hurtful to that person in love. Take for example the way I felt when
Stephanie’s boyfriend came asking for her in the lab. Here I was with my “special” feelings for
this girl and yet after he beats the shit out of her, I don’t even lift a
finger in defense of her. I don’t even
get in the guy’s face and call him an asshole or a prick or whatever the hell
other nasty name I could’ve thought of at the time. If I didn’t feel the way I did about her, it
probably wouldn’t have mattered that much to me that I didn’t do squat. I ask myself what I could have done. I agonized over it and the obvious answers
were that I could’ve started something with her boyfriend. I could’ve defended
her honor publicly. But then I had the
sense that she wouldn’t have approved of any action I could have taken. But who said I had to wait for her
approval. Anyway, it’s a moot point
because I hated myself much more for doing nothing than she ever could or did
hate me. But maybe things might have
been different if . . .
There
she was. Brick red spandex mixed with a
golden T-shirt and green sneakers set her apart from the average badly-dressed
exercise fanatic. I aimed for a spot
between her breastbone. I noticed his
face in the periphery of the scope’s sight.
The bastard was actually smiling as if daring me to shoot. So I did, but I didn’t hit anything. All that happened was that a few pigeons
nearby became disturbed and flew elsewhere.
Love was nowhere to be seen.
Son-of-a-bitch!
I
found out later that Stephanie had gotten into a fight with her man because of
one of the other guys in the computer lab.
Obviously this guy threatened the boyfriend more than I did. What did that say about my relationship with
her, about my chances with her? My
self-esteem had been shot to hell since the incident in the lab and it was just
getting worse fast.
So
naturally she separated from her boyfriend, but that didn’t kill the doubt that
had been forming about my chances with her.
You see that bastard Love was in the lab and just hanging around me
constantly since the whole thing happened.
Always asking questions and coming to get massive printouts of obscure
and foolish subject matter from the web.
“Hey
take a look at this!”
“What
is that?”
“This
my friend is a cookbook for every beer ever invented.”
“Beer?”
“That’s
right. You want Heineken here you
go. You want Amstel
or Coors here you go. “They’ve even got
this Malaysian beer with this funny sounding name. Isn’t this so cool?”
“Yeah
really cool.”
“Hey
so where’s the cutie you work with? I
haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s
sick.”
“That’s
a shame. She’s one hot number if you
know what I mean. You two look good
together.”
At
the time I thought it was all innocent and it even boosted my confidence
somewhat, but later I saw what he was doing.
The fuck!
So
Stephanie and I kept up relations and I drew closer and closer to her but
didn’t expect that she felt anything for me, so it was still okay. Then one day when it was just us two closing
up the lab, the unthinkable happened. We
were in separate rooms e-mailing each other back and forth and the talk somehow
switched to relationships and girls and guys and all of a sudden here I was
telling her that I was attracted to her and here she was e-mailing me back that
she had an attraction towards me too. I
spun away from the terminal as if the thing had exploded. Could it really be true? What was that noise in the hall? It sounded like someone walking by.
Anyway,
that night we held hands as I walked her home and at her step I pulled her
close to me and kissed her uncertainly.
I had kissed women before but it was always different the first time. I watched her go inside and then I walked
home with the swagger of a champion.
Little did I know that the dam was about to break and flood me out of
all of my common sense.
I
went to the ball court in a forlorn state, not knowing how I could find Love
much less do anything once I did find him.
Anton had just finished a pick-up game and trotted over towards me.
“What’s
the happs kid?”
“I’m
kinda . . . Shit I don’t know. I was searching for Love and –“
“Ahh shit!”
“Why
are you saying ‘Ahh shit’ I would think you would be
happy the way Love’s been treating you.”
“Look
man, I know about Love. I know how Love
can fuck you over. Just cause things are
goin’ good with Macy doesn’t mean I ain’t never been through it. I been there man, I know what you’re goin’ through. You
know what I been through man. You just
gotta pick yourself up –“
“Don’t
fuckin’ say it man!
I’m tired of people tellin’ me to go out and
have a good time. That shit’s not a fuckin’ option right now.”
“Aight man, aight. So you lookin’ to
pay back Love is that it?”
“No
doubt!”
“Well
if you’re tryin’ to find Love you ain’t
gonna find her by lookin’
for her. Listen man, it’s like ballin’. You can’t
stand around and wait for Love to come to you.
You gotta learn how to move without the ball. Keep it movin’ so
that when you do get open, the ball most likely will come to you. But listen, there’s no guarantees, so if it
doesn’t come to you, you gotta keep movin’ until it
does. That’s the only way you’re gonna find Love man.”
I
looked at him and listened to what he was saying. It was true, he had been through it and Love
had fucked him over on an occasion or two.
I figured it made sense so I decided to go home. This whole thing between me and Love was far
from over, but instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off
searching for this bastard, I figured why not let her come to me?
We
started going to movies and clubs and all types of different venues
together. We were getting up close and
personal, real romantic-like and things couldn’t have been better. Little did I know that Love would throw the
proverbial monkey wrench into everything at my most vulnerable moment.
“I
can’t do this.”
My
heart was a lump in my throat.
“What
do you mean?”
“I’m
still in love with Brian. I’m just not
ready to get into anything serious with anyone right now. I never meant to hurt you or lead you on, but
I think we have to be just friends.”
Someone
in the back of the Movie Theater burst out laughing raucously. The person’s high pitched squeals and
snickers were like pieces of glass flying through my chest. Breathing was becoming very problematic. Walking home, I couldn’t even touch her or
say any words that would sound intelligible.
All the way home people were screaming out of cab windows and cars were
blowing their horns. Mocking me. Fucking mocking me for being such an
ass. At her doorstep she leaned in and
hugged me quickly. So went the first of
the bad nights. It would only get worse
from there.
During
the following weeks I tried to be calm and collected about it, but my emotions
were exploding in every direction. I
would have bouts of pure joy at some little gesture or comment she made only to
dive into despair seconds later because of the look on her face and the
knowledge that I could never have her.
The emptiness was immense. I
became angry and sullen and hated her for split seconds only to turn back
around and hate myself for hating her.
And all the while that unfashionable bitch kept bumping into me on the
street. Sprinkling the water from her
wet umbrella in my face. Swinging his
bag into my chest without so much as an apology or any look of remorse.
It’s
not like my feelings dropped off the face of the Earth, but I tried to
recapture some of the cool that I had lost.
Stephanie and I tried to remain friends and we continued to talk, but
always a growing sense of distance crept into her voice, something pushing me
further away. I tried as nonchalantly as
possible to hold on but we kept slipping and slipping further away. Love
continued with her cheap shots but kept more at a distance.
Who
could I hate? I tried to hate Stephanie
but I couldn’t. I tried to hate myself
but even that wasn’t enough. So
naturally I found that I could hate the fucker that started it all. Love would have to die.
So
for the next couple of months, I followed Anton’s advice and just did what I
had to do in my own life. I got a new
job uptown and threw myself into it with all the force and energy I could
muster. The responsibility was great and
I gladly welcomed the distraction.
Stephanie and I pretty much never talked anymore. All my friends kept telling me that I should
be hanging out more, but I refused and just worked longer hours. By this time Love was all but extinct as far
as I could see. Every time I thought I
caught a glimpse of someone who could be Love, it turned out to be a regular
Jane instead. Love was gone but not
forgotten.
Lyla started working in
the department adjacent to mine. We
exchanged pleasantries in the hallway and not much else for a while. At the Christmas party we chatted amiably and
had a couple of laughs together. Slowly
but surely, our conversations became longer and more involved. We even exchanged home numbers but nothing
serious was behind it. Stepanie had become a dull ache at the back of my heart
that I would recall on cold damp winter nights.
Lyla asked me if I
wanted to have some drinks with her after work one day and I accepted. Everything was cool and nice. We talked about the bad weather and impending
snowstorms heading our way. I could have
sworn one of the waiters on the other side of the room was wearing a horrible
paisley tie over the garish green shirt issued by the restaurant.
In
the following weeks we had a couple more outings together. Something was beginning to happen. Then I asked her out on a date. A real date.
Dinner-at-a-fancy-restaurant type date.
She said yes. Something in the
back of my mind helped me to control my elation. When the night of the date came I pulled out
my suit and put a little something special in one of the pockets. I made sure everything was perfect as I left
the house. I picked her up in a cab and
we rode hand in hand to the restaurant.
A
very familiar looking waitress came and took our orders. Everything was going perfect. I took Lyla’s right
hand in mine and squeezed gently while staring into her eyes. With my left hand, I reached into my jacket
pocket and pulled the chrome 9mm handgun Tuke had
given me so many months ago. I pointed
it at Lyla’s mid-section with my finger resting on
the trigger. Love came over with our
drinks and a nervous expression on her freckled face. He deposited the drinks and walked away
slowly but he kept his eyes focused on mine as mine were on his.
“Do
you know her?”
“Yes,
don’t you?”
“She
looks kinda familiar, who is she?”
I
broke eye contact with Love and stared intently at Lyla. What was she trying to get from me? What did she really want out of all
this? I had Love exactly where I wanted
the bastard. Just one quick pull and it
would all be over. No funny feelings in
my gut. No familiar fragrances
triggering bouts of insanity. Just one
quick pull of the trigger and Love would be done. I searched Lyla’s
eyes for the doubt, the uncertainty about me.
The little telltale hints that would tell me how we would end up. But I had never seen eyes like hers
before. My hand began to shake.
“What’s
the matter?”
I
dropped the gun when I realized I would never be able to know who she was if I
did what I was going to do. I would
never know how far we could go. I didn’t
know where we would end up but I wanted to take the trip despite everything
else. I brought my left hand up and
sandwiched her hand between both of mine.
I leaned forward and brought our hands to my lips.
A
freckle-faced waitress took a deep sigh of relief as she went back to work.