War of the Roses: Redux Edition

This is where to post any NFL or NCAA football franchises.
User avatar

Captain Canada
Posts: 2159
Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 03 Dec 2019, 21:14

I'm liking the dynamic between Devin and Carla so far. Keep these updates coming fam
User avatar

Topic author
Caesar
Posts: 5849
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 11 Dec 2019, 20:16

A Pair of Tickets to Nowhere

Caesar walked around the back of his car, jingling his keys in his hand. He popped the trunk where a dozen or so bags from boutiques sat. Emma joined him behind the car and started removing the bags.

“What are you doing?” Caesar asked, reaching over to stop her from grabbing another set of bags.

She shrugged as she swatted his hand away. “Taking them from you before you change your mind about buying me all of this. I figured that’s why you rushed out of the car.”

“I can still take the shit from you, but I’m not an animal. I’m not going to let you drag me all over Kingdom Come buying you shit as Christmas presents and then take it back. I came back here to get that underwear you bought. I wanted to see you in it then out of it.”

“Okay, first, we didn’t go all over anywhere. We went to like three places downtown. And, I didn’t buy any underwear.”

Caesar snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Well, shit. I guess we can just skip to the part where you’re naked then, huh?”

She smacked his hand away, turned and started walking toward Caesar’s house. “I told you that I’m cutting you off until after Thanksgiving because you’ve been ignoring me all the damn time. I know that you’ve been fucking other girls so you can just go call them up.”

“If I was out fucking other girls, don’t you think I would be out fucking other girls right now instead of spending money on you?” Caesar asked, following behind her.

“That’s a horrible argument.”

“It’s better than pointing out that you fuck other guys.”

“You have no proof of that.”

He stopped and looked at her. “I’ve literally seen you fucking Ron at least twice. What do you mean I have no proof of it?”

“That’s different. That’s Ron. I’m talking about anyone else.”

“Well, if we’re going to cut people off our lists because it’s ‘different’ then I have at least 10 girls that I’m going to cut off.”

Caesar stepped around her to unlock the door, but before he could, one of his father’s colleagues opened the door and walked outside. Deion Jenkins wasn’t too far behind, slipping on a pair of sunglasses. The other man kept walking by without a word.

Deion stopped, gave Emma a once over and then looked at his son. “Big game Friday.”

Caesar shrugged. “It’s just Slidell.”

“Is that why you’re out entertaining sack chasing high school girls?” He pointed at Emma who looked around before taking a step back off the stoop.

“I can call an Uber if y’all want me to leave,” she said, meekly.

Deion waved her comment off before he reached into his suit and pulled out his phone. “So, it’s just Slidell, right? That means you won’t be dropping any more God damn passes when you’re wide fucking open?”

“I only had like—”

“Like, uh, like, uh, like,” the man mocked. “Like two fucking drops. I watched the highlights. I told you to stop dropping the damn football.”

“The whole team was messing up.”

Deion shrugged as he scrolled through his texts before reading from one. “I don’t know, DJ. I watched the kid and he’ll be an alright, probably a great, receiver in college but he’s just bigger than everyone right now. It’s easy to kill everyone when you’re 6’4”, 6’5” and everyone else’s nuts haven’t dropped yet. And you know people expect him to be a handful like you were, no offense.”

He scrolled through a few more texts. “Lazy on his routes. You can tell he knows that he’s bigger, faster, stronger than everyone else on the field. Power 5 corners? They’ll shut that bullshit down. Maybe put him in Catholic to get him some better DBs to go up against?” Deion looked up. “Maybe, huh?”

Caesar took a deep breath knowing the question was rhetorical. Emma tried to inch away again, but Deion looked at her again which stopped her.

“You might want to stick around. A good gold digger knows when her meal ticket is falling apart. I’d suggest not throwing the birth control out the window just yet.” He pulled up another text. “Too showy. Too flashy. All the one-hand attempts? Just a lot of unnecessary stuff. And does he even block downfield on runs? You want me to keep going?”

Caesar shook his head.

His father put his phone back in his pocket and then nodded down at Caesar’s hands. “This family’s legacy? You have it in your fumbling, bumbling, can’t catch a cold in the Arctic hands. Stop fucking it up. You’ve heard of Jimmy Hayes and his brother Joey, right? All-Pro linebackers. But, I know you haven’t heard of their other brother Jason. Because he fucked up the family’s legacy since he couldn’t make it at a D3 school. Don’t fucking be the Jenkins family’s Jason. I’ll be at the game Friday. Don’t drop the fucking ball.”

Caesar nodded as Deion brushed by him and headed for his car. Caesar waited for a bit before pushing the door open and standing out of the way for Emma to walk inside.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go?” she asked, not moving.

He made a dramatic arc with his hand to wave her into the house, with a bow at the end. “M’lady, please enter.”

“I was just making sure you were alright.”

“I will call Ashley right now if you don’t get your ass in the damn house so I can close the door. It’s fucking cold out here,” Caesar said.

“Alright, alright.”

Caesar shut the door behind her. He watched her start to ascend the stairs for a moment before he headed up them himself.

-*****-
“Ma? Dad? I’m home.”

Devin dropped his duffel bag on the floor by the door and pushed it against the wall with his foot before kicking his shoes off then shrugged off his jacket. The movement caused him to get a whiff of his uniform shirt and he cringed at the mixture of warehouse funk, sweat and whatever other substances fell on him throughout the days at work. He’d have to wash it soon.

Walking through the house, he noticed his father sitting at the kitchen table. Papers and documents were strewn across the table as usual and two laptops sat open. The man worked from both of the computers as he wrote on the sheets of paper.

“It’s a school night. How many times do I have to tell you to tell the manager that you need to be off by 8?” Devin, III, didn’t even look up from his work to speak.

Devin ignored his father’s comments as he went to the refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and what looked like the leftovers from that night’s dinner. Chicken and potatoes. Quick and easy as was the norm when it came to cooking in the King household. He pressed on the food to test the temperature, wondering to himself how long ago it was put in the fridge and if it was worth taking the time to heat it up.

“I’m going to call up there tomorrow and fix your schedule for you.”

“If I get off at 8, I’d be working two hours a day during the season and during camp in the spring. Doesn’t even make sense to go to work at that point.” Devin pushed the door of the fridge closed and opened the microwave, dropping the plate of chicken and potatoes in it.

“Then it sounds like you should be quitting either the job or football, doesn’t it? Quitting both and focusing on school would probably be the best option, though.”

Flipping through apps on his phone, Devin leaned against the counter and watched as the plate spun in the microwave. He was somewhat regretting his decision not to eat the meal cold and beat a quick retreat from the kitchen.

“You need to be studying for your finals anyway. I heard the kids were struggling with Mrs. Robichaux’s exam last semester. It’ll be important that you--”

“I’m not taking her final. I have a B in the class. Can’t go up, can’t go down. It’d be a waste of my time to take it and it’d be a waste of her time to grade it. I’m not taking the one in English II either for the same reason.”

His father finally looked up and removed his glasses. “That has to be one of the dumbest things that has come out of your mouth this year. Colleges frown upon students who are not willing to see a semester out to the end.”

Devin walked over to the microwave as it beeped and popped it open. He cringed as the hot plate touched his fingers but slid it onto the counter all the same despite the burning on his fingertips.

“Colleges aren’t looking at individual grades from your junior year. They aren’t going to care that I skipped a final or two. For fuck’s sake, you’re exempt from them just for going to school everyday,” he said.

“Watch your mouth,” Devin, III snapped. “Who told you that? The football ‘scouts’ who are just looking to get themselves a better job because they recruited some kid who is related to an old, washed-up, never was? You’re about to be a senior. I’m not going to keep telling you that you need to put your mind on academics and leave these child’s games behind in high school. It’ll be too late at this rate and you’ll end up at a community college.”

“I figured that’s what I was already doing,” Devin said as he picked up the plate with napkins under it this time to try to stave off some of the heat. “So, I’m guessing you don’t want these two tickets the school gave us for the game Friday in Slidell?”

The older man put his glasses back on and looked back to his work. “Why would I waste my time at a football game in Slidell? No, I don’t want them. The sooner that’s over with, the better.”

Devin nodded as he walked out of the kitchen. “Alright then. Have fun with whatever it is that you’re doing.”

His father only scoffed, or that’s all he heard before he got to his room and shut the door behind him. He placed the plate on his desk, the food having stopped emitting steam. If it was still mostly cold, he’d really regret wasting the time popping it in the microwave.

Grabbing his phone out of his jacket pocket, he called Carla. She answered after a few rings.

“How do you know you aren’t interrupting me getting eaten out right now?” she asked, humor in her voice.

“If it’s a guy, then I’ll hang up. If it’s one of you girlfriends, then it sounds like I called at just the right time and you don’t need to mind me at all.”

“Nope. If you want to hear that, then you’ll have to do it yourself. What’s up?”

“I have two tickets to our playoff game Friday. My parents don’t want ‘em. Want to come to Slidell and, probably, watch us lose?”

“Slidell? Yikes. That’s a long ass drive.”

“I’m sure you have at least one friend who’ll go with you. It’d really mean a lot to me.”

She sighed. “What’s that they used to say back in the day? Say less?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. That makes no sense.”

“I’ll come get the tickets from you tomorrow. I have a cousin who lives in Slidell and I’ll make her come with me if I can’t find anyone else. But you owe me.”

“You got it. Whatever you want as long as it isn’t Dr. Pepper,” Devin laughed.

“Dr. Pepper doesn’t fucking make your pussy stink! I’m going to punch you in the fucking throat.”
User avatar

Captain Canada
Posts: 2159
Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 12 Dec 2019, 10:37

"Dr. Pepper doesn't fucking make your pussy stink". Never thought I would read that :drose:
User avatar

Topic author
Caesar
Posts: 5849
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 16 Dec 2019, 16:54

Off the Perch

Carla pushed the bottle in Gina’s hand away from her mouth. “You couldn’t at least wait until there are a few more people here before you start drinking?”

“I told you that I needed something to get me through a damn football game. You’re lucky I’m not already shit-faced. Kaley understands. Right, Kaley?” Gina said, nudging Kaley with an elbow as she looked around and took a quick swig from the bottle.

Kaley eyed Gina for a moment without saying anything. She’d only met the girl a few minutes ago, but she’d already decided that she didn’t like her. Kaley glanced over her shoulder and watched the people filing into the upper rows of the stadium. Being on the visitors’ side made her lie to David feel somehow worse.

“You didn’t tell me you’d started dating someone,” she said to Carla. Talking about someone else’s life might make her forget about the only tangled mess she was getting into.

“They don’t say they are dating. I keep telling her that she needs to lock Devin down before someone swoops in and takes his shy ass from her,” Gina said. “If he didn’t do the whole football thing, I’d do it.”

Carla rolled her eyes. “You’d try again, you mean? He already shot you down.”

“That was before you gave him his first bit of sex. Now, he won’t be so nervous when someone touches his dick.”

“A high school football player in South Louisiana who was a virgin this late in the game? Am I missing something here?” Kaley asked.

“Devin is just a genuinely nice guy. His ex wasn’t about the whole pre-martial sex thing. He didn’t pressure her. Nothing wrong with that.” Carla shrugged.

Gina laughed and turned to Kaley. “Tell your cousin the importance of consistent dick please. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Liar. You’re here for some dick. Give me until halftime. I’ll figure it out.”

Kaley rolled her eyes. “I have a boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t get fucked by someone else.” Gina shrugged before taking another sip from the mini bottle in her hand.

-*****-


“We’ve got a regular ol’ cat fight in store for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Terrebonne’s Tigers from the bayou against Slidell’s Tigers from the other side of the lake. Terrebonne has a little more claim to the Bayou Bengals moniker but they’re in hostile territory tonight and will need a big game from their stars if they want to survive and advance.”



Caesar gave the line judge a thumbs up as he stepped onto the line of scrimmage. The corner took a few steps back to give him a cushion.

The ball was snapped. Caesar exploded forward. Slidell’s corner bailed out of his backpedal almost immediately and turned upfield. Caesar planted his foot and turned around just as Ron’s pass reached him. He turned upfield himself once securing the ball and met the corner who’d realized his mistake.

The defender got a hold of his facemask, twisting it as he tried to make the tackle. Caesar kept him away with one hand, punching out with stiff arms, while he powered his way forward. More defenders joined in on the tackle, but Caesar was able to keep his momentum going for another five yards before he finally fell under the weight, fighting to keep the ball the entire way down.

When some of his teammates ran over to hype him up after the run, he shoved them away and walked back to the line of scrimmage.



“DeRossi directing traffic at the line of scrimmage. He shifts back into the gun. Santiago to his right, Jackson to the left. The snap is good. DeRossi hands it off to Jackson going off-ta—No, he pitches it to Santiago on the misdirection. He turns up field and has room to rumble. Taken down at the Slidell 47 after a gain of 13.”



“Terrebonne rushing back to the line of scrimmage. This is a new wrinkle. DeRossi snaps the ball and throws a quick out to John for the first down.”



“Terrebonne still in the hurry-up. Hand off to Santiago up the middle for a gain of four.”



“DeRossi finds Jenkins for 11.”



“Cazayoux on the field and he takes it for a gain of five.”



“Bubble screen to Jenkins and he walks into the endzone for the first score of the game. The hurry-up really had Slidell struggling on that opening drive.”



Devin crept toward the line of scrimmage. He could hear the Slidell coaching staff trying to shout over the din of the crowd to get the quarterback to adjust the pass pro. It didn’t work and the ball was snapped.

Devin took off on a dead sprint into the backfield. It seemed like he had to run a mile to make it to the quarterback before the ball was thrown.

The runningback noticed the blitz late and tried to get into position to make the block, but he slipped. Devin jumped over him while diving at the quarterback. He could almost feel the exhale of breath leave the kid’s body as he collided with him.

They rolled with Devin’s momentum and it carried him back to his feet after making the sack – likely a good photo op for the folks posting on social media pages.



“Langlois has the ball batted down at the line of scrimmage and it’ll be third and long.”



“Slidell opts to play it safe with a handoff up the middle to Williams. The punt team is heading out to give the ball back to Terrebonne.”



“DeRossi hit Ledet for a gain of 15 to start this possession.”



“Terrebonne’s still in the hurry-up and Slidell is struggling to get the right personnel out there. DeRossi hands it off to Santiago. He has a massive hole and he’s up the middle for a huge gain of 24 before being brought down at the Slidell 29.”



“DeRossi swings it out to Jackson who takes it for 9 yards into the redzone.”



“Schexnayder makes the reception and he’s brought down at the 5!”



“Santiago bounces it outside and scampers into the endzone untouched. It’s 13-0 Terrebonne. This is the Terrebonne that looked like they were going to go undefeated earlier in the season.”



“Langlois drops back to pass. He’s flushed out of the pocket. He tries to throw it away, but it’s PICKED OFF! Devin King has it at the 43 where he’s pushed out of bounds! That was a huge mistake from the senior quarterback.”



“Terrebonne comes out with four receivers, DeRossi in the gun with Santiago to his right. Jenkins comes in motion. DeRossi gets the snap and hands it off to Jenkins on the sweep. Jenkins is brought down for a short ga—Wait! He doesn’t have the ball! Santiago is scampering up the sideline for an easy touchdown! Talk about some sleight of hand! Terrebonne’s rolling over Slidell here, baw!”

Ron smacked Caesar on his helmet as the two walked to the sideline. The quarterback had a big smile on his face. “You almost fucked that pitch up.”

“I don't remember seeing you ever pull off a fake running full pelt before,” Caesar said.

“No one’s supposed to see a fake. That’s the point.”

Coach Detiveaux marched back down the sideline after sprinting upfield behind Hasan. He slapped Ron’s shoulder pads. “We’re going to slow it down on the next drive. We don’t need to run it up. Just keep what we have and get out of here ready for next week.”

“Coach, it’s still the first quarter,” Ron said. “They have plenty time to come back.”

“Slow it down.” Coach Detiveaux didn’t wait for Ron’s reply before he walked off, barking orders at the defense.

Ron sighed and answered anyway. “Alright.”



“Slidell putting something together here finally. Langlois hits his receiver for a short gain of 5 yards for another first down.”



“Williams takes it up the middle for a gain of 4.”



“Langlois keeps it and gains 7 for another first down.”



“Burke makes the catch and it’s another first down for Slidell.”



“Vincent on the end of that one and it’s another short gain.”



“Langlois finally shows some of his arm strength and completes it to Thomas for a gain of 20 to the Terrebonne 3.”



“Williams powers his way into the endzone and after a long, methodical drive that took 7 minutes, Slidell has cut Terrebonne’s lead to 15 pending the extra point.”



“Terrebonne out in the I-Form to start this drive. Jackson takes it up the middle but barely gets back to the line of scrimmage.”



“Hand off to Cazayoux on the fullback dive but he’s stopped at the line of scrimmage.”



“Behind the sticks, DeRossi drops back to pass but he’s flushed out the pocket and forced to throw it away. Fourth down, Terrebonne.”



“Another long drive from Slidell but this one is going to end with a field goal as Ruiz boots it through the uprights to make it 21-10 with 2:15 remaining in the half.”



“Terrebonne works their way down the field, but stall in the redzone and are forced to attempt the field goal to end the half. Hidalgo on to kick. Jackson holding. The ball is snapped but it’s over Jackson’s head! Hidalgo scrambles to fall on it and that’s how the half will end!

After going up 21-0 in a hurry, Terrebonne took their foot off the gas and Slidell has come back into it to make it 21-10 at the break.”

-*****-


“Booooo! You fucking suck!” Gina shouted at the Terrebonne players as they jogged to the locker room at halftime. She noticed Carla and Kaley staring at her and shrugged. “I’m rooting for the home team. They seem like nicer people. Rah rah rah, gooooooo Slidell!”

Carla shook her head. “I should’ve asked Mariah to come with me.”

“Mariah’s not as fun. She would’ve been fainting at the sight of these boys in tight football pants and those crop top jerseys.”

Devin, his helmet propped up on his head, looked up at the stands as he passed by and gave Carla a slight wave before disappearing on the side of the bleachers.

Gina dramatically fanned herself. “Devin really could get it.”

“I’ll fucking cut you,” Carla said.

Caesar brought up the rear of the parade of players. His mouthpiece hanging out of his mouth as he moved as a leisurely pace. He and Gina caught each other’s gaze and they both flipped each other off.

“Break both legs, asshole!” she shouted.

A look of confusion popped up on his face when he noticed Kaley next to her. He dropped his hand and winked at her. Then scowled at Carla before turning the corner.

Kaley turned her head, feeling Gina staring at her. She sighed and stood up. “I’m going get a Coke. Y’all want anything?”

-*****-


“Hidalgo boots it downfield and we’re underway in the second half. Burke fields it at the 14-yard line, turning it upfield. He looks for a hole and SQUIRTS OUT OF A TACKLE! He’s got blockers ahead of him! Only the kicker to beat and he just burns by him! He’s at the 20, the 15, the 10, the 5! Touchdown, Slidell! 21-16, just like that!”



“Terrebonne is forced to punt it. They just can’t seem to get going again.”



“Slidell makes the field goal and now they’re only down one point!”



“Jackson takes the pitch outside, but is WALLOPED and puts the ball on the turf! Slidell recovers at their own 19. It looked like Terrebonne were going to put more points on the board, but it’s going back the other way!”



“Langlois finds his man in the endzone and it’s 26-21 Slidell with the extra point to come.”



“Slidell’s going for two to make it a seven-point game. Langlois drops back and throws it to the back of the endzone, but it’s batted down by Coleman and the lead will remain at 5.”



“Terrebonne picks up a couple of first downs before being forced to punt the ball away and they’ll need their defense to come up big to get them the ball back with time running out here in the fourth quarter.”



“Third and four from their own 45 yard line. If Slidell converts this, it’s game over and they’ll advance to the next round. Terrebonne has to make this stop to get their offense a chance to get the win.”

The ball was snapped and the quarterback tossed it to his runningback on a sweep. The offensive linemen did a good job of sealing the edge. Devin fought through the receiver’s block and ran toward the ball carrier.

The back got stacked up near the first down marker and tried to spin and dive for the line. Devin dove as well and collided with the runningback. The two of them twisted in the air and rolled backward as others joined in on the tackle to make sure he was down.

“The referee is calling for the chain gang to measure it... Just short! Slidell’s sending out their punt unit to trust their defense.”



“Terrebonne takes over at their 15. They have a minute to get into the endzone. DeRossi lines up. Four receivers split out wide. He drops back and fires a quick out to John for a gain of 10 and John gets out of bounds.”



“No timeouts for Terrebonne as they hurry back to the line. DeRossi throws another quick pass to Jenkins but he’s brought down in bounds. DeRossi hustles everyone back to the line and they spike it. Balls on the Terrebonne 37. 45 seconds left in the game.”



“DeRossi throws the bubble screen to Ledet and he picks up 8 before being shoved out of bounds at the 45. 37 seconds left.”



“DeRossi drops back and is flushed out of the pocket! He pivots and fires from one foot and finds Schexnayder for a big gain down to the Slidell thirty-five. But he’s brought down in bounds! Terrebonne’s going to have to hurry!”

...

“Terrebonne’s got it down at the Slidell thirty-five but time is running out! Twelve seconds remaining and they need a touchdown. DeRossi is marshaling the offense at the line of scrimmage. He has to snap it! There it is! DeRossi drops back. This will be the last play of the season for one of these teams! DeRossi steps up and heaves it downfield just as he’s hit by a defensive lineman! Who’s going to come down with it?!”

Caesar turned his head and spotted the ball. He adjusted his run but it was falling too quickly. He dove for it. He could feel the ball hit his fingers. His body hit the turf and he heard the roar of the crowd before he glanced up. The ball was rolling out on the grass, inches from him.

“Slidell completes the comeback and will advance to the next round of the LHSAA Division 5A playoffs! What! A! Game!”

Caesar pushed himself to his knees and then sat back on his heels, ripping his helmet off and throwing it aside. He buried his head in his hands as the Slidell players celebrated around him.
User avatar

Captain Canada
Posts: 2159
Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 17 Dec 2019, 13:09

Deion going to rip him to shreds, goddamn.
User avatar

Topic author
Caesar
Posts: 5849
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 20 Dec 2019, 19:11

Sisyphus

A season of what could have been had come to a screeching, abrupt halt. A season that began with promise and dominance had fizzled out and concluded with a whimper. And at the end of the day, Terrebonne’s football team had no one to blame but themselves.

The team filed onto awaiting buses, heads hung. There were no words of wisdom in the locker room after the game. No one suggested that they’d be back next year to avenge the loss. As quickly as the two disjointed parts of two schools had been mashed together to create the team, it all came to an end on a field on the North Shore.

Ron adjusted his duffel bag on his shoulder, shuffling forward as the others got onto the bus. Coach Detiveaux stopped him before he climbed the steps.

“Where’s Jenkins?” the coach asked him.

Ron nodded behind him. “He saw his mom in the crowd and decided to ride back with her.”

“Are you sure? He should’ve told me something.”

“One hundred percent positive. And, I don’t think he was all too worried about getting yelled at, considering.”

-*****-
Kaley tapped her fingers on the steering wheel of her car as she waited for the light to turn green. There were few cars on the road that led to the sleepy neighborhood where David rented a small two-bedroom house. It was out of the way and a good spot for her to get away, especially when he was offshore.

The sound of shifting fabric drew her attention to the passenger seat, the passenger seat that had been pushed back as far it could go to accommodate its current occupant. And even that was barely enough.

Caesar pointed, wordlessly, to the light when it turned green. He hadn’t spoken since she’d decided he seemed dejected enough to not turn down his request to go where she was going for the night.

Navigating through the neighborhood streets, she pulled into the driveway of a house with ugly blue paint that she hated immensely. David’s truck sat under the carport, but she knew he wasn’t home because she’d brought him to meet his work crew herself.

Caesar got out of her car, hitching his duffel bag up on his shoulder and waiting for her to lead the way.

She wondered how he was so nonchalant about the situation when walking into another guy’s house with said guy’s girlfriend. Then she decided she’d rather not know why.

Kaley opened the door and moved out of the way to let Caesar go inside first, but he only took a couple steps through the door before bending down and prodding at the carpet.

“What?”

He stood up, shaking his head. “This carpet is probably older than us. Smells like it’s water damaged, too.”

“I don’t smell anything.” She sniffed the air to make sure. “And do you even know about carpet?”

Caesar shrugged, but didn’t answer. He walked further in as Kaley closed the door behind them. Looking to his left and then his right, he walked into the living room and dropped his bag in the middle of the floor.

Kaley stepped over it as she followed him. He walked to the fireplace, looked down at it then shook his head again before staring at the pictures on the mantle. Pictures of Kaley and David. At the beach, at the Bogue Chitto, Mardi Gras parades, the whole nine.

One by one, he turned each picture to face the wall.

“What? Don’t do that!” She all but ran over to turn them back, but he stopped her.

He took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll set a reminder to turn them back around before I leave.”

As he walked away, Kaley had to resist the urge to fix the pictures and instead just followed him, wondering what was the point of his aimless walk through the house. Now, he was looking in the cabinets in the kitchen, examining pots and pans.

“Caesar, what are you doing?’

He held up a pan to eye level before putting it back in the cabinet. “All this shit is cheap and barely clean.”

“Did you come here to critique shit? I could’ve left you at the stadium if I knew you were going to just be here talking shit.”

“I’m just looking around.”

“Looking doesn’t require opening your mouth.”

Leaving the kitchen, he headed down the hall toward the bedrooms. He opened the first door and stared at gym equipment strewn across the room. He looked back at Kaley, shook his head and closed the door.

She jumped in front of him before he went into the other bedroom. He stepped inside just in time to see her shove a ring box into a hole in the box spring. He pretended he didn’t see it.

“I expected... something else in here,” he said, touching the old furniture as he passed.

Kaley sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, how do you know Gina?”

“We dated, I guess. When we were younger.”

“Dated like you dated Carla?”

Caesar shook his head. “New ground rule. Just like I can’t talk about the illustrious David James, you can’t talk about Gina. Deal? Deal.”

“I was just wondering because she seemed pretty excited about y’all losing. I think she might have even snapped a few pictures of you dropped that pass. It was kinda weird that she was taking so much enjoyment in you failing.”

“Because she knows my dad.”

“Huh?”

He didn’t elaborate, just sat down next to her and stared at the wall ahead of them. Kaley wrung her fingers in her lap. She’d expected something different to happen, or to be propositioned, when he’d walked into the bedroom.

“Are you alright? I know it sucks to lose,” she said, not knowing what else to do.

He kept looking at the wall. “You ever feel like Sisyphus? Rolling a boulder up a giant mountain only for it to come tumbling back down and you have to start all over again?”

“I... Well... Sisyphus? You been studying for the ACTs?” Her question was meant to lighten the mood.

“I have Sisyphus beat. I’m rolling the boulder up the mountain with a boulder tied to my waist pulling me the other way.” He looked at her. “You mind if I sleep here?”

She shook her head. She thought he’d sort himself out on the bed. Instead, he leaned over and laid his head in her lap and closed his eyes. Looking down at him, she sighed.

-*****-
Devin ran his fingers through Carla’s hair as the two of them lay in her bed. He’d thought the sting of the loss would make him want to go to sleep as soon as possible, but the two-hour bus ride in near silence had given him time to get some sleep in and he hadn’t felt tired since they’d gotten back to Houma.

“You know what’s the only good thing about this shit?” he asked.

“What?”

“It gives me like three extra weeks to not have to worry about football, winning, losing, recruiters, stats, all that shit. If we’d gone to state, everything would’ve gotten so crazy around here. I know it sounds stupid since we just lost a fucking playoff game.”

“I love that about you, you know? So many of these guys walk around Houma thinking that just because they play football that their shit doesn’t stink, and everyone should worship them.”

“That’s what you what?”

Carla lifted her chin so she could look at him. “What are you talking about?”

“You said something about me. What was that?”

She caught on to what he meant and smacked him on the chest as he laughed at her. “Go ahead and start getting full of yourself. I’ll send you back to those girls at Terrebonne so you can go get yourself a kid to humble you.”

“That’s a pretty specific threat.”

She only shrugged and smiled.

“Thanks for coming tonight. Really though. I know you probably would rather have done anything else on your Friday night. It really means a lot.”

“It was fun,” she paused for a moment. “The first half anyway. I wish y’all would’ve won, but the trip had its perks even if Gina almost killed us driving back across the Causeway. Bitch drives like she has an extra life or two at home under the mattress.”

Devin laughed. “How’d you get her to go with you anyway? I thought she was hardcore against football.”

“Who knows with her. She just hopped in the car and came pick me up when I mentioned it. I think she pissed off my cousin though.”

“Gina’s an acquired taste like beer, so I could see that happening.”

Carla shrugged as she moved to get into a more comfortable position. “Kaley was really touchy tonight. Something was off, but she didn’t really say anything. Probably something with her boyfriend. It’s always something with him. Dickhead.”

“Safe to say you don’t like her boyfriend?”

“He’s not good enough for her, but that’s her business. Maybe she’ll see the light one day.”

“Maybe so.” He reached over to grab his phone off the night stand, switched it to silent and tossed it back on the night stand. “Think I’m going to call it a night.”

Carla nodded and threw an arm and a leg over his body as she cuddled up to him. “I think we should go get pancakes in the morning.”

“That sounds like some couple shit to do.”

“Sure is. But at that café though, not iHop.” She looked up to give him a quick kiss and winked at him. “Night.”

-*****-
Caesar opened his eyes. Kaley had fallen asleep and turned over, leaving his face in somewhat of a compromising position.

Sitting up, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and turned it off, ignoring the absurd amount of texts and notifications from his social pages that he’d gotten in the last few hours. All of that could hold until Monday.

He poked Kaley’s shoulder a few times, but she didn’t respond or move. Dead to the world.

He got out of the bed, kneeling next to it. Reaching in between the mattress and box spring, he squeezed his hand this way and that until he found the hole in the box spring. He fished out the ring box.
Kaley stirred above him and he froze, but she only rolled over onto her stomach and was still asleep.

He opened the small, black box and looked at the ring inside of it. It was definitely an engagement ring, albeit a small one with a single, tiny diamond set in it.

He made his way to the bathroom in the hall, the box still open in his hand. Kicking up the toilet seat, he held the box over the toilet.

A debate raged in his head as he tilted his hand a little bit at a time.

Sighing, he pulled his hand back and closed the box. He flushed the toilet despite not using it and went back to the bedroom. He just pushed the box back between the mattress and box spring, not caring if it fell in the hole and got back into the bed.

Kaley shifted and put her head on his chest. “I hope you turned the heater on, David,” she said in her sleep.

He resisted shoving her away and instead just closed his eyes and fell back asleep.
User avatar

Captain Canada
Posts: 2159
Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 23 Dec 2019, 15:18

Guess we've found Caesar's Achilles' heel.
User avatar

Topic author
Caesar
Posts: 5849
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 02 Jan 2020, 21:21

Shiftless

Caesar stared up at the cheap party banners that hung from the ceiling. Stock college “logos” printed on them made them look even more Dollar Store than they were. The pennants taped on the wall were the coup de grace. The ultimate sign of how low dollar this “celebration” was.

“Congratulations and good luck, Britton!” was printed on plain white banners that hung throughout the house and outside. Southeast Missouri’s logo stamped at an odd angle on the side.

He raised the paper cup in his hand to his mouth and sipped the fruit punch inside. Reaching into his jacket, he dug into the plastic bag in his pocket and plucked a pill from it. He popped it in his mouth and downed the rest of the fruit punch.

“Caesar, honey? Can you help me with this?”

Caesar turned around as Mrs. Cazayoux nodded to the stack of pans on the counter. He set the cup on the table and walked over to pick them up.

“You can make more than one trip, you know?” she asked, mirth in her voice.

He shrugged and winked. “Wouldn’t be doing much good with all these muscles if I couldn’t lift a few pans of hotdogs, now would I?”

She smacked him on the shoulder with a towel and shooed him out of the door. “Oh, stop it. Hurry up and take those out to that husband of mine before he burns more of them to a crisp.”

He stepped into the tiny square that was the Cazayoux’s backyard. It made the 20 or so people in the yard seem like a few hundred with how they were sardined into it. He dropped the trays off on the side of the grill with a grumble of thanks from Mr. Cazayoux as he prodded ever-blackening meat on the grill.

Caesar made a note to grab something to eat on the way home as he walked away.

Ron held a cup of clear liquid up to him as he joined the guys plus Janelle at one side of the yard. He sniffed it and cringed.

“What the fuck is this? Paint thinner?” he asked.

“It could probably remove a bit of patina from brass. It’s moonshine from down the bayou.” He overenunciated ‘bayou’ when he said it. “Came from Britton’s Uncle Boudreaux.”

Caesar tested the liquor, shrugged and choked a bit of it down. “You have an Uncle Boudreaux? What about an Uncle Thibodaux?” he asked Britton.

“His first name is Boudreaux. Or so everyone says,” Britton said. “I try not to spend too much time down Larose with that part of the family since they clearly have a few screws loose. I told Ron that shit probably has a bit of meth in it.”

“I’ll let you know if I don’t die from drinking it,” Ron said, as he poured himself another cup from the haphazardly marked Coke bottle that he had resting at his feet.

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’ve done meth before?” Janelle asked, her words dripping with disgust.

Ron shook his head. “I’ve never done meth, ma’am.” He turned to her and smiled a toothy grin. “I have all of my teeth as proof. I just figure I’ll know if I’ve accidentally ingested a bit of it, you know?”

Bentley looked up from the joint he was rolling. “First meth and next thing you know, you’ll be snorting one marijuana like Sister Theriot used to tell us in 6th grade.”

“Smoking meth, snorting marijuana and getting fucked by men of color.” Anthony laughed remembering the old nun. “I guess she was alright with a little sodomy as along as it was a white guy shoving his dick in your ass.”

“The more I hang out with y’all, the more I realize that Vandebilt fucked you all up. It’s 2050. I thought it’d been 100 years since people said shit like that,” Janelle said.

Britton laughed. “Sister Theriot was probably pushing 100. They made her retired after she handed some girl a hanger for being a jezebel.”

“Hey, Britton. Aren’t those your cousins, Mandy and Tami?” Bentley asked, pointing to two girls dressed as if they were going pick up a John and not attending a family gathering.

“Yeaaah, wh—”

Before he could finish answering, Bentley and Anthony had hopped up from their chairs and headed in their direction.

Britton jumped up as well, almost dropping Janelle who’d been sitting in his lap on the ground. He muttered a sorry to her. “I have to go run interference. Mandy and Tami have enough fucking kids and I don’t want Bentley and Anthony’s faded ass genes in the family pool. It’s slow enough as it is.”

“I don’t see it,” Caesar said looking at the girls. “They look like they’ve 100 percent fucked at least three of their cousins.”

“That’s not even a hot take. You’re talking about people from South Lafourche. They’re all fucking related. I’d say they’ve been fucked by fewer guys who weren’t related to them than ones who were,” Ron said.

Janelle sat down in the chair Bentley had vacated and rolled her eyes. “How fucking gross.”

Caesar turned around. “Hey, what are you going to do now that B is going to Missouri? Y’all going to do the long distance thing?”

“You already know that. Why are you even asking me that?”

“I figured if your guy is going to be hundreds of miles away that you’d be getting a little lonely, so I was going to offer to come keep you company.”

“Britton is one of your best friends. How could you even think of that?”

Caesar nodded in Ron’s direction. “Ron’s a brother to me and I fucked Francesca last night. He gave me the condom.”

Ron glanced at him out of the side of his eye, stood up, started whistling and walked away.

“I don’t know what you know about me that gave you the idea that I cheat or that I was some ho to be passed around.”

“You’re thinking of it the wrong way. It’s not being passed around. It’s keeping it in the circle. That’s entirely different. Besides, Britton’s probably going to be getting himself all kinds of pussy up there in Missouri, why shouldn’t you get you some on the side down here?”

“Do you go out of your way to be this much of a shit bird or does it just come naturally?”

“That’s not a no.”

“Fuck off, Caesar.” Janelle stood up and walked away, leaving Caesar alone.

He shrugged and sat back, swishing the moonshine around the cup. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, saw a text from Kaley, cleared the notification and put the phone back.

-*****-
“I don’t see how it’s unfair. You buy dinner. I buy lunch. We take turns on breakfast. It works. Stop whining.”

Devin walked around his car and took the takeout bags from Carla as she got out of the car. “Because there’s a difference between getting Chick-Fil-A and going to a restaurant and your fat ass asking for all the queso they have.”

“I’d be offended that you called my ass fat if it wasn’t true.” She laughed. “Queso does the body good and you can’t say it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re going to have to start getting shit off the dollar menu for breakfast, lunch and dinner if you keep eating so damn much.”

She reached into his pocket and grabbed his keys to unlock the door. “I’ll just do what Gina does when she doesn’t want to pay for food. Slather some dirt on my little brother’s face, drag him to the restaurant, feign homelessness. No one can say no to a crying kid and girl.”

“I figured Gina would just offer sex to the waiter to get out of her tab.”

“I’m sure she does, but what if she gets a waitress?”

Devin stopped to wait for her to open the door. “Then I figured Gina would just offer sex to the waitress to get out of her tab.”

“I guess that’s a valid assumption.”

When the two of the stepped into Devin’s house, the lights were already on. Devin glanced around for signs of his parents, but figured they were out at some church service and had forgotten to turn the lights off before they left.

He soon discovered the reason for all the lights when he found his grandfather sitting at the kitchen table. The old man looked up and immediately his gaze found Carla walking behind Devin. He leaned back in the chair and smiled a smile that was probably charming 50 years ago.

Now, it was just dirty grandpa-esque.

“Got yourself a new lady, eh?” his grandfather asked Devin.

Devin set the food down on the counter. Nodding between the two of them, he said, “Grandpa, Carla. Carla, that’s my grandpa Devin.” He noted the confusion on her face. “Devin’s a family name.”

She nodded and gave Devin King, Jr. a small wave. “Nice to meet you.”

“You been waiting here long?” Devin asked as he handed Carla trays out of the bag.

“Well, your dad told me you didn’t work today, and you’d be back early. And, of course, you have the habit of not answering your phone so just the couple hours.”

“Oh, sorry, that’s my fault,” Carla said. “I turned his phone off because he was getting annoyed about all the recruiters calling him all hours of the night.”

The old man palmed his face and shook his head. “She’s prettier than the last one, boy, but clearly dumb as a box of rocks.”

“Hey!” Devin shouted. “I let her do it so don’t take that shit out on her. The fucking recruiters are like vultures. It’s tiring.”

Devin, Jr. stood up, a slow movement that now needed the aid of a cane. Something that Devin noted was a recent addition. He shuffled over to the counter and looked into the bags. “Well, that looks good.” He looked over Devin’s shoulder at Carla. “Sweetie, why don’t you go wait in the living room or something? My grandson and I need to have a man’s conversation.”

Carla looked at Devin. He sighed and shrugged. “It’ll only be a second then we can eat.”

“Fine, but I’m taking the queso.” She grabbed two of the trays from him and walked out of the kitchen.

Devin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the fridge. “Go on and say what you have to say, grandpa. Don’t make it long. I’d like to eat this before it gets cold.”

“Don’t get smart with me, boy. I been the football star before, remember? The only thing you’re trying to eat tonight is between that girl’s legs. Bringing food home like a fucking domesticated man. It must be good.”

“Can we move this along?”

“Alright then. First of all, don’t turn your damn phone off, dumbass. You need to be focused right now. Early signing is coming up and then signing day. Schools are starting to set up their boards for next year. You need to make sure they can get in touch with you.”

Devin shrugged. “The season’s over. I just want to chill for a bit before I start worrying about all that shit again.”

“This is Division I recruiting, boy. There is no ‘chill for a bit.’ It’s going to go all the way up until you sign your letter of intent and even then, schools are going to try to get you to transfer. It’s not like in my day where you had to sit out a year. Now these little pussy kids transfer if they get benched and play immediately. Can’t fight for their spots anymore.”

“Jesus. Fine, I’ll keep the damn phone on, but I’m not answering these motherfuckers all day.”

“Not asking you to. Just need you to answer when a 206 number calls next time.”

Devin raised an eyebrow. “Where is that?”

“Seattle. The University of Washington is offering you an off-campus apartment and one for your parents. I know they won’t take it so I will. You could probably swing a scholarship for that pretty young thing in there as well.”

“I’ll keep it in mind. Are we done?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you get back to your dinner, Mr. Romantic.” The older Devin searched through the trays and picked one up. “I’m gonna take this though. For my troubles. I love their appetizers. Your grandma will be happy you got this for us.”

Devin followed his grandpa out of the door. When he turned around in the living room, Carla was sitting in the recliner with her legs hooked over either armrest while eating her chips and queso.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

She smiled. “I didn’t make the suggestion, but I heard the suggestion and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the suggestion, if you know what I mean.”

Devin shook his head and headed back toward the kitchen. “Yeah, I’m going to go ahead and eat these riblets because whatever that is you’re doing right there ain’t sexy.”

Carla laughed. “Bring it all!”
User avatar

Topic author
Caesar
Posts: 5849
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 05 Jan 2020, 22:14

Yuletide

A young man sat on a stack of boxes in a living room of boxes. He leaned against the wall with a pair of dirty cowboy boots propped up on a laundry basket in front of him. With a stylus in hand, he scribbled on a tablet in his lap.

“Pierce? Pierce?” a woman’s voice carried into the room before she turned the corner and found him. “Pierce McCoy, I know you’re not sitting on your backside while I’m over here slaving to unpack all these damn boxes.”

“I’m just taking myself a break. You know you’ll be falling asleep soon enough and I’ll be doing this all by my lonely,” he said in a Texas drawl as thick as hers. He looked up and gestured at the couple dozen boxes across the room. “We’re almost done anyway.”

She shook her head as she walked over to him. “We’re not even halfway done. There are still boxes in the garage.” She looked down at the tablet. “And that would get blown up every single time it’s run.”

“What?” He scanned over the tablet. “This is a guaranteed fifteen yard gain.”

“Maybe at UT where the offensive line will hold up long enough for those routes to develop or the quarterback can make the adjustments.” She leaned down and kissed him on his cheek. “We’re coaching high school kids now, honey. Give the flanker a 5-yard out.”

“Give the flanker a 5-yard out,” he repeated mockingly. “Here I was thinking I was the coach but apparently I’m the coach’s husband.”

“And don’t you forget it.” The woman stood up and walked over to bay windows. “Can you go find us a Christmas tree?”

“Get the one out of the garage.”

“A real tree.”

“We’ve been here for all of two minutes. Where the hell am I going to find a Christmas tree?”

“You can go cut down one of those cypress trees for all I care. You’re just going to go get me a tree because I asked nicely.”

Pierce McCoy looked at his wife and seeing there was no budging, he sighed and put the tablet down. He walked over to her and kissed her on the forehead, a hand on her stomach. She placed her hand on top of his. “Only because you asked nicely.”

“Hurry back,” she said, winking at him.



“Do you have a tree that’s like… a tree?” Pierce asked the second attendant he’d come across at the fourth tree nursery he’d been to.

The attendant looked around sarcastically. He then waved his hand in a wide arc. “There are trees all around you, sir.”

“I get that, chief. I’m asking if you have a tree that’s not purple and gold. Trees are supposed to be green. The missus wants a green tree so I’m going to need you to find me a green tree so I can go to sleep tonight and close both of my eyes.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

Pierce sighed. “Do you have a tree that doesn’t have flock on it or not?”

“We got a few left, I’m sure.” The attendant turned around and started walking down the row of trees. Pierce followed him.

After a few twists and turns, they came upon a pair of trees that were barely taller than they were. The trees were on the thin side and it wasn’t a surprise why other trees had been snatched before these two.

The attendant grabbed some of the branches and fluffed them up. “You could make it look a little better if you fluff it up. Get some nice lights.”

“These trees are pitiful, man.”

“Your missus wants a green tree. You shouldn’t have come at the last minute,” the man said. “Do you want one of them or not?”

Pierce sighed and scratched his forehead. “I guess I’ll take the less pitiful looking one.”

“Danny!” the attendant shouted. Moments later a lanky kid came running with a net covering for the tree. “Get this tree in this fella’s truck then get the money from him.”

Danny nodded as the other employee walked off and started pulling the covering over the tree.

“I know you from somewhere.”

Danny looked up. “I don’t think so, sir.”

“Yeaaaah. You’re Daniel Jackson. You played quarterback for the freshman team at Houma Junior High this season. They let 15 year olds work here?”

“Uh, well,” Danny stood up and looked around. “Well. My uncle knows the owner and I just needed some extra money. I donated some of it since I can’t pay taxes because I’m too young but I know it’s wrong but I’m just trying to buy my family nice things for Christmas and I’m sorry for lying—”

Pierce held up his hand, laughing. “Cot damn, boy. You talk faster than a bull running away from the slaughterhouse. Your secret is safe with me. On one condition.”

“One condition?”

“Yep. You make sure you come out for spring camp in a few months. I need a quarterback.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “At Terrebonne, sir? You’re the new coach?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out when you come out for spring camp in a few months because I need a quarterback.”

Danny shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. I’m not very good at it. I was thinking about switching to corner.”

Pierce laughed, slapping his knee. “Son, you’re 100 pounds soaking wet. You need to stay your ass in that flak jacket and away from taking hits. Come out for spring camp in a few months. I need a quarterback.”

“You said that already, sir.”

“Yep. Just repeating it until you remember. Now, c’mon and get this tree in my truck. My wife’s waiting for it and my first life lesson to you will be to never piss off your wife.”

“Uh, yes, sir. I guess that makes sense?”

-*****-
A group of teenagers stood around an old Chevy Impala from the ‘20s in the cul-de-sac of a dinghy, rundown neighborhood block. A homeless man pushed a grocery cart down the opposite side walk and a couple dope boys stood on a corner up the street pushing their wares.

“It’s colder than a motherfucker out here,” one of them said.

“It’s December like a motherfucker, dumbass,” another said.

“I know what month it is, nigga.”

“Then you should know why it’s cold, nigga.”

“Ease up on him, Black. You know his mama was on crack when she was pregnant with him. That nigga brain been fried ever since,” a third voice added.

“Man, fuck both of y’all. My mama wasn’t on no fucking crack. Erik, you the smart nigga out here, tell these boys why it’s so damn cold and that it ain’t just because it’s December.”

Erik looked up from his phone and at his friends. He rubbed his temples for a moment and sighed. “Do I look like a fucking meteorologist? It’s cold because it’s cold. Get on your phone and check the weather like everyone else in the world. That’s why they sell jackets, so your big ass doesn’t get cold.”

“You ain’t no help, bruh. Look, it’s one of them cold slips the white folks be talking about.”

“It’s a fucking snap. A cold snap. Cold snap,” Erik said, snapping his fingers for emphasis.

Black laughed. “Erik can’t never let no one be at peace with they wrong statements. If Tremaine think it’s a cold slip then fuck it, let that man think he out here slipping on some cold air like a bird or some shit.”

“Yo, could you imagine that fat ass motherfucker trying to fly?”

“Fuck you, Black. And fuck you, Dwayne,” Tremaine said.

“Hey, don’t be saying my government name, nigga.” Dwayne looked around, pulling the strings of his hoodie.

“Ain’t nobody calling you Dolo, negro. Your rap career ain’t going nowhere,” Black said, laughing. “You need to get a better line to get some pussy, so you don’t want to worry about these hoes knowing you got that lame ass name.”

“Says the nigga named Wilkie Donacious Johnson,” Dwayne said.

“I was named after a famous black judge. You were named after a wrestler. C’mon now,” Black said. “At least I ain’t got that white boy name like Erik. Even spelled like a white boy would with that K at the end.”

“That can be translated to, I won’t have to worry about a job application being deleted without being looked at,” Erik said, tapping away on his phone and not looking up.

“It’s a lot of niggas in the NFL with wild names. I don’t think any of us got to worry about working for the white man,” Tremaine said.

Their conversation stopped as their attention was drawn to a luxury car rolling slowly down the street.

“Must be one of them street kings,” Black said, nodding toward the dope boys.

But the car kept coming and slowed to a stop a few feet away from them. Erik sighed, pushing away from the car and walking over to the driver’s side.

The window rolled down to reveal an older white man, his eyes shifting from Erik to the rearview mirror and back. The man reached into the glove compartment and pulled out an envelope, holding it out to the kid.

“Merry Christmas from Oklahoma State, son,” the man said.

Erik snatched the envelope from him and signaled for him to wait. He opened it up to find two banded stacks of hundreds and ten tickets to the Cotton Bowl. He read the tickets, on the 50-yard line. He took the tickets out of the envelope and shoved them in his hoodie pocket before taking out on stack of hundreds, peeling out three or four bills and shoving the money back in the envelope.

He threw the envelope back at the man. “Fuck Oklahoma State. And fuck who sent you here. I already committed. I’m not changing my mind.”

“I don’t know who you think I’m here for, but I came on my own.”

“Please. I’m not fucking stupid. Now get the fuck out of here before those gangsters from up the street come rob your white ass.”

As soon as Erik stepped away from the corner, it peeled away, hit the cul-de-sac and flew down the street the way it’d come.

Erik walked back over to the guys and retook his place against the car.

“Who the fuck was that, man? You dealing?” Dwayne asked.

“No, motherfucker,” Erik said as he took his phone out of his pocket. He also pulled the tickets out and threw them on the trunk of the car. “Here, y’all go to the Cotton Bowl. Or sell the tickets, either or.”

“Shit, I’m going!” Black snatched the tickets up from the trunk before the other two started arguing with him to give them each one or two.

Erik just went back to texting.

-*****-
“You’re welcome, ma’am. Hope you have a Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year.”

Devin grabbed the grocery basket and took a step to walk away, but the gray-haired old woman grabbed the side of the basket.

“What’d you just say to me, young man?” she asked, anger in her voice.

Devin looked around thinking that one of his friends was playing a joke on him and had whispered something just loud enough for the woman to hear that he wasn’t paying attention to. “What did I say?” he asked, pointing to his chest.

“Yes, you. What did you just say?!”

“Uh, you’re welcome, ma’am? Hope you have a Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year?”

“It’s Merry Christmas!” the woman shrieked

“What?”

“The holiday! It’s Christmas!”

“I’m lost. Does happy holidays not include Christmas or something?”

The woman shook her head, blue curls flopping on her head. She took her hand off the basket and pointed and accusing finger at him. “This is what this country lost when President Trump left office. Everyone’s gone back to trying to be politically correct and persecuting Christians. The holiday! IS! CHRISTMAS! Now, say it.”

Devin held his hands up. “Alright, alright. Sorry, sheesh. Merry… Holidays, ma’am.”

He all but ran away as the woman shouted behind him that she’d be reporting him to the manager for being disrespectful to her – after he’d offered to carry her groceries out and put them in her car – because he wouldn’t say the proper terms.

Gina sat on a bench in front of the store as he pushed the buggy in with the rest of them.

“Looks like Mrs. LeBlanc wasn’t too happy with your services. Did you do some dumb shit like put the eggs and bread under the meat?” she asked.

“Apparently saying happy holidays is a crime.”

Gina tutted and shook her head. “You should know better, Mr. King. This is a Christian country and the only holiday is Christmas. I mean, how else would companies make a killing for six weeks if it wasn’t because our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ? He’s the reason for the gluttony.”

“I hope you keep that to yourself when you’re up in there on the register. I don’t think they want to spring for a hospital bill when those old women come over the counter on you.” Devin laughed.

“I don’t know,” Gina said, scratching her chin. “I think I could take ‘em. Those old bats look like they can throw a punch, but osteoporosis definitely has them with weak chins.”

“You don’t look like you’ve ever been in a fight either. You sure you can take a punch?”

She shrugged. “I’ll let you think I’ve never knocked a bitch out.”

A car pulled up and its horn sounded. Gina looked over and rolled her eyes before picking up her keys and standing.

Before she stepped off the sidewalk, she turned back to Devin. “What’d you get Carla for Christmas?”

“Just some bath bombs and shit. Nothing fancy,” he said. “That should be enough, right?”

“You should’ve gone to Vicky’s and gotten her something that you and she will enjoy. If you do go, I’ll just throw out there that I wear a medium panty. Not a lot of ass, not too little ass, juuuust right,” she said, winking at him before going and getting into the car.

He shook his head, and while he would never say it aloud, she did have a fairly nice ass. Sighing, he headed back into the din of the store a few days before Christmas.

Ralph caught his attention and then pointed to the cases of ice where Hasan was trying to refill them while people were taking bags of ice out at a much faster clip. Devin trudged over, dreading handling the bags without gloves on.

“This motherfucker need to give us double time for this shit,” Hasan said when Devin was close enough. “I ain’t tryin’ to be up in here fightin’ these suburban white people over some damn ice but the shit comin’ if they don’t start takin’ bags off the pallet.”

Devin tapped on one of the bags. “It’s frozen too hard. They don’t want to wait too long for this shit to thaw enough that you don’t need a damn ice pick to use it.”

Hasan stopped. “Nigga, they got ice picks on aisle 8. If they need one, buy one. They got the money.”

“Fair enough. Your brother back in town for Christmas or y’all going back to Florida?” Devin asked as he started throwing bags of ice into the case.

“Nah. Don’t know where he at. Bart said I could go over to Jamie house with him, but I don’t know if I’m tryin’ to be around no kids like that on a holiday. You know they gonna have all them noisy ass toys and shit.”

“Yeah, I’d turn that offer down, too. You could come to my house. It’ll just be my parents and my grandparents. My uncle and his daughter might come around, but they never stay for long. Mom’s side doesn’t like dad’s side.”

Hasan scratched his chin. “How old ya cousin?”

“I don’t know. Like 17? 18? Maybe older? I think she’s older. We aren’t close.”

“So you sayin’ I can try to fuck on her?” he asked, laughing when Devin shoved him. “I’m messin’. Until I see what she look like. You sure your parents won’t be mad?”

“I piss my parents off everyday. What’s one more time? Besides, all you talk about is going to college. They’ll love that shit.”

-*****-
Caesar sat on the sofa staring at the Christmas tree that loomed in the corner. His vision swam and he was convinced that the star atop the almost completely white tree – flock, ornaments and lights – was dancing and had grown arms.

With all his friends doing the Christmas thing, he’d gotten bored and finished off the rest of his stock of party favors. The problem was that he wasn’t sure what some of the pills were that he’d come across. A voice in the back of his head told him that he was probably dying, but aren’t we all?

His mother stormed into the living room with her phone to her ear. She began pacing back and forth, not realizing that Caesar was sitting in the room.

“What the fuck do you mean I can’t come home for Christmas?!” Candice Jenkins shouted. “You do this same shit every year Louis. I can’t fucking help that you and daddy have a problem with the fact that Deion makes more money than the two of you. Get a better fucking job if it’s so much of a problem!”

She continued pacing, likely as Caesar’s Uncle Louis said something back to her. Watching her was making Caesar feel nauseous. He wanted to tell her to sit the fuck down. That would probably be inappropriate, though.

“I chose this?! I chose this?! What do you mean I always get a little crazy at family gatherings? I haven’t been to one in years because of conversations like this fucking one!” Her words became tearful. “My problem is that I’m part of your fucking family and you should want us in Oklahoma with you. That’s my damn problem. He’s working. As usual? What’s that supposed to mean?”

She paused for a moment. Then the tears were gone. “Well, fuck you, Louis. I hope you choke on your ham and die, you fat fuck. Tell Hannah that I’m in awe of her ability to make sure your feedings are enough to maintain your body weight on that shoestring budget, the bitch.”

Whatever her brother was saying back was futile as she launched the phone across the room, shattering it on the far wall.

Candice turned around and looked at Caesar. “Honey, can you go get my purse out of the kitchen for me?”

Caesar nodded, slower than he felt he was nodding, before almost sliding to his feet and dragging ass to the kitchen. He hoped his mother didn’t notice him walking with his arms out as he felt like the floor was moving beneath him.

He grabbed her purse from the counter and made his way back to the living room. His mother was standing in front of the tree when he got back into the room. He held up the purse and moved his mouth to tell her he had it, but nothing came out of his mouth. So, he just stood there.

She walked around the tree and reached behind it to unlock the large windows it stood in front of, swinging them open.

Then, with a scream, she shoved the tree out of the window, star flying off the top as it scrapped the ceiling and cords of lights wiping around the plugs ripped from the wall. And as calmly as she’d opened the windows, she shut them – or as best she could with a large tree hanging out of the house.

She came over and took the purse from Caesar. “Thanks, sweetie. Go on and sit down. You look like death.”

He nodded and plopped back down on the sofa. He watched as his mother pulled a prescription bottle out of her purse and knocked back two pills. After, she sat down on the sofa next to him. The two of them looking at the barely lit tree hanging out of the window for a few minutes in silence.

“When you get older,” she started, “you’re going to thank me for being an only child. Only poor people think having a huge family is important. Everything is much simpler when it’s just the three of us and not shit bag in-laws and siblings.”

Caesar summoned as much strength as he could to act normal. “Is… Is dad going to be here-home for Christmas?”

“No, it’ll just be the two of us. He’s in wherever the fuck for whatever fucking bowl game. You know it’s a big time for the business with all the players declaring and graduating.”

Caesar nodded, but said nothing.

Candice patted him on the knee. “Nothing we’re not used to. We’ll do our usual. Breakfast, presents, lunch, movies, dinner. Sound good?”

He nodded again.

“Great. And honey?”

Caesar turned his head. “Ye… ye… yeah?”

“Stop fucking doing drugs. Or at least hide it better.”
User avatar

djp73
Posts: 5347
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 13:42

War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by djp73 » 06 Jan 2020, 13:28

mama always knows
Post Reply