“You owe me,” Tim spat out before turning around and walking back to the living room, taking a seat on the couch.
In front of him was a six-pack that was now down to just two bottles and next to him was a woman. Her name wasn’t Naomi.
“I don’t owe you shit,” James replied as he kept walking into the house, heading straight to the closest.
“Your second half of the fucking rent,” Tim raised his voice, turning his head around to face James, “Pardon my language, baby.”
“You’re not going to introduce me?” said the scantily clad woman.
“He’s the mother-you-know-what that owes me some money,” Tim stood up and walked over to James who was getting his bag out of the closet.
“Fuck out of my face,” James pushed him away, throwing the bag over his back and heading for the kitchen.
“Now, listen here motherfucker!”
Tim went to grab James’ shoulder and what met him was a straight jab to the face. Tim fell back a few steps and when he got closer again, James pushed him, sending him falling head over heels over the couch. He landed near the woman who had jumped out of the couch and was now screaming.
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” James was seething but he remained focus, filtering through the mail for his letters before stuffing them in his bag.
“You’ll be back! You’ll be back, bitch! You’ll always be back!”
James paid him no mind, slamming the door behind him, hopefully for the last time.
....
“I was really liking the name Thomas.”
“That’s such a white name,” James laughed as he pushed the cart down the aisle, “Thomas Jefferson, Thomas....Edison?”
“I still want to get a gender neutral crib,” Tiffany stopped and took a look at the items in front of her, “Maybe they’re wrong and we get a girl.”
“Nothing is wrong with a girl. Look at me, an ally for feminism.”
“I like Taylor.”
“For a girl?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t like it,” James shook his head, “How about.....Tasha?”
“If I was white, you wouldn’t suggest that name. However, I kind of like Tasha. Wait, have you fucked any girls named Tasha?”
“I don’t think so,” James had to think about it for a while.
“I need you to raise a strong, black queen, okay? So leave all that hoe fucking in the past.”
“Is that why Tiffany 2.0 has been around here?”
“Honestly,” she shrugged, “Call me weird but a few nights ago, I was going through our text messages from before and like wow, I can’t believe I was that person.”
“Tell me about it,” James teased, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Yeah, we both were kind of trash.”
“Do you ever think about.....like the people we hurt?”
“Doesn’t do any good,” James shook his head, “That shit over with and at that point, you’re not helping them, you’re just making yourself feel good.”
“Have you thought about dating? Are you dating someone, right now? I’m sorry if that’s a weird question to ask, I just don’t want to get in the way or like....”
“It’s fine,” James laughed, “It’s not like I have anytime or anywhere to date, right now.”
“I just....I want us to be good parents first,” Tiffany nodded her head, “Tasha is growing on me.”
....
“It’s backwards.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
James got up and took a few steps back, admiring the product of their labour for the last three hours. Despite those three hours, the crib was still far from the picture that was on the box.
“How can it be backwards?” James asked as he helped Tiffany get up from the floor, “They’re the same side.”
“This side is unfinished,” she ran her hand against the rough outer layer, “That’s going to be on the inside.”
“You can barely tell,” James waved his hands, “I’m about tired as a motherfucker.”
“Let’s just get one of those Mexicans at Home Depot to do it tomorrow,” Tiffany agreed with James as she went into the kitchen to grab a water bottle.
“Sort of racist,” James laughed, “I think I’m going to crash, Eric asking me to open up tomorrow.”
“It’s not racist,” she corrected him as James went into the bedroom and grabbed a comforter out of the closet, “They’re always there!”
“Still kind of racist,” he teased, “I wouldn’t feel comfortable saying it so ipso facto racist.”
“You and your big words,” she headed into the bedroom but stopped at the doorway, “You have both shifts tomorrow and workouts afterward and in between with that new kid, don’t you?”
“Yeah. He’s down from like Compton or something, not sure how he found me but I ain’t complaining.”
“Why don’t you sleep in here then? Got a busy day tomorrow. Come on, grow up. We’re just two adults that need their eight hours. I know that couch uncomfortable.”
....
“You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” Tiffany turned around in the bed to face James, who still had his eyes closed.
“You’re scooting your ass up against me,” James said, “Which not only is waking up a sleeping giant but also giving me less and less space to sleep. At this point, I’m better off on the couch.”
“First of all,” she sat up in bed, “We agreed on ass-to-ass and you’re not doing that so that’s your fault. Second of all, try sleeping still with a baby kicking inside of you all fucking night.”
“That’s my girl,” James smiled, extending his hand out to rub her belly.
“It ain’t so sleepy,” Tiffany moved her hand over to James’ crotch area, grabbing more than a handful, “It’s certainly giant-like though.”
“What are you doing?”
“Shut up,” she said as she disappeared under the sheets, bringing a warm sensation underneath his naval.
Explosions of Grandeur.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2208
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Explosions of Grandeur.
Damn nigga, he really bagged her and she made him put his name on the dotted line 
Explosions of Grandeur.
“Look, I don’t mind them working with you but I can’t advertise your stuff, it wouldn’t be right?”
James followed coach Butler into his office, taking a seat before the coach even got to his own chair.
“Make yourself at home,” coach Butler laughed as he started his computer, “Ty, when are the people coming in for the goal-posts?”
“Twelve-thirty,” replied the running back coach that was sticking up a new wallpaper from the University of Houston, “Marcus and them were going to get here a little bit before that, start painting the lines.”
“Coach,” James got his attention back, “I just need a little nudge, I don’t need you telling them that they have to come here.”
“Be glad I’m letting Tyler even do it,” coach Butler scoffed.
James’ latest sales pitch fell flat. Carlos had allowed him to use the gym during after-hours to train his relative-through-confusion Javier but James figured that given that Javier wasn’t a paying customer, he might as well get some. His first hunting ground was the high school circuit and he was hoping coach Butler -- newly promoted head coach following coach Collins’ retirement -- would promote his new program to the rest of the team.
“If I won state,” James got up, “You’d have let me do it.”
“If you won state,” coach Butler looked up from his computer, “You wouldn’t be sitting here and neither would I.”
The two shared a laugh and then a hug. James had become almost a stranger to his old stomping grounds but his newfound profession as a part-time personal trainer had brought him back to his roots.
James said goodbye to the rest of the coaches that were helping renovate the facilities during the one-week break that they gave the players between the end of summer workouts and the beginning of camp.
He made his way out of the athletic complex and started the quarter-mile trek across campus to the parking lot. Summer school was over with and his car stood out in the parking lot along with another familiar make, model and color.
James wasn’t sure what to say at first, if he should say anything. He had seen her but she hadn’t seen him. He had stopped trying to contact her for months now and even when he was trying to contact her, he wasn’t really sure what he’d say or how he would feel. Angry? Betrayed? Apologetic? A simple hey would do for now.
“Hi,” James walked up to the passenger side window.
She nearly jumped out of her seat, dropping her phone to her lap. She looked down and picked it back up before returning a soft greeting, “Hey.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” James’ voice cracked halfway through his sentence, causing him to clear his throat.
“My brother is trying to get a job on the staff,” she explained.
“I thought he was coaching at Laney?”
“He got tired of Oakland,” she shook her head, “His kid turned three last month and he’s trying to make up for lost time. Maybe you can slide in his resume at Frank’s, huh?”
James was confused until he remembered what shirt he was wearing, “Oh, yeah, stopped by here before my shirt started.”
“Best you get going, then, huh?”
James nodded, giving her a half a wave before turning around. This had somehow gone worse than he could have imagined.
“Wait, I’m sorry.”
James looked back over his shoulder as Beck was now getting out of the car. It had been the longest stretch of time they had spent apart from each other, not seeing each other or even communicating. He couldn’t help but notice the few pounds she gained. Freshman 15 was a myth. For her case, it was more like thirty.
“I just....you know, I’m sorry.”
“I should be apologizing,” James brought his hand to his chest, “I acted like a dick that night, I’ve acted like a dick since I’ve met you and honestly, I deserved what happened.”
“No, you don’t. I didn’t do it because of that night, I did it because I was....I was just angry. You never treated me like you treated that girl on prom night, you were so gentle, so caring.....I never saw that from you. I was just the homegirl you got high with and fucked sometimes. The whole school knew you were fucking on me with everyone and I still wore that but that night....I just snapped.”
“I get it,” James had grown tired of feeling sorry for himself, “At some point, I got to face the music and that was it.”
“I didn’t think it would get that big. That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want you to not go to Fresno, I just wanted....I don’t know what I want.”
“It’s fine, it really is. I did this, not you.”
“I’m going to make you late for your shift now,” she cleared her throat, “Get you fired twice.”
“That’s funny,” he laughed, “They actually didn’t fire me, they just told me not to come. Semantics but I take pride in it.”
They stood there awkwardly, unsure how to end this. This was the end. This should be the end. They had played their purpose in each other’s life. Staying any longer would just be asking for trouble.
“So....after work, like, what are you doing?”
....
“No way!”
“I’m telling you,” James shook his head, “She’s the one that set it off.”
“Nasty bitch,” Beck said with disgust in her voice, “Iman still wifed her after that?”
“Took me by surprise,” James shrugged, “Out of all the girls he could have bagged, he bagged her regular ass after we flipped her.”
James phone rang and he took a glance at it before stuffing it back into his pocket.
“You’re trash,” she took a drag, “Isn’t it weird, having sex with your friend?”
“I wasn’t having sex with him,” James corrected her, “It’s called flipping, you don’t really do nothing with each other. Eyes up all the time, those are the rules.”
“You’re a veteran, huh?”
“My dumbass didn’t consider it cheating,” he took the blunt from her, “As dumb as that sounds, for some reason, I didn’t really feel bad about those.”
“And the others?”
“At first,” James took a few inhales before coughing, “But after a while, I just figured you knew and was okay with and stopped feeling bad. You?”
“Never.”
“Bullshit.”
“Not once,” she reiterated, “I came close once though.”
“At Poly?”
“Never at Poly. You were like a fucking god at Poly and every guy was on your fucking dick so they woudn’t even dare look at me.”
“So Irvine?”
“Yup.”
“What happened?”
“We get to the room, smoking and chilling and we start making out and stuff and then his dick just wouldn’t get hard.”
“Wow!”
“Shut up,” Beck tried to punch James in the arm but he got out of the way, causing her to lean into him.
They stood there for awhile. The night came and went and they had spent it under the stars on the roof of James’ car, smoking a few blunts and telling old tales. James admitting his many infidelities was somehow cathartic for him. For her, it was bordering on erotic as she would ask for every single detail.
“When you were with those girls,” she looked up into his eyes, “Did you enjoy it? Were you ever thinking about....I don’t know, me? Us?”
“If my meat was soft, I’d think about you. For real though,” he put the blunt out and threw it on the dirt lot, “A couple times I couldn’t even do it because you were in my head. I don’t know, I guess I just liked feeling like the man and feeling wanted.”
“We all want that.”
Beck leaned in some more until their lips pressed against each other until James’ phone started vibrating again.
He pulled away from Beck and pressed down on the power button on his phone, “Sorry about that.”
“Way to kill the mood,” she laughed.
“The perfect ambience,” James pointed to the empty parking lot, “That’s what get you wet, huh?”
“You know me,” she sat up, “The house should be empty.”
....
“Fuck,” James muttered to himself as he took a sniff of his shirt.
Yesterday’s stench was still on it as he threw it over his head, keeping his gait as he opened the backdoor into the restaurant.
“I know, I know. I’m late,” James said out loud once he reached the kitchen, not to anyone specifically.
“Jimmy?”
“I know,” he shook his head, “I don’t have the bus excuse this time, Shannon, but I swear I have a legitimate ex...”
“What are you doing here?” Eric stormed out of his office.
“My fault,” James held his hands up, “I overslept and I’ll make up for it.”
“James,” Eric placed his hand on his chest to stop him from pacing around the kitchen, trying to clean the stacked up dishes.
“What? What? Why is everyone looking at me? Come on, y’all been late bef....”
“Oh no,” Shannon muttered as she placed her hand on her head, “Poor baby.”
“You didn’t hear?” Eric asked him.
“Hear what? What? What? What’s going on? Y’all are freaking me out,” James forced a laugh, “This some sort of prank or joke because I’m always late?”
“It’s.....it’s....it’s Tiffany, man.”
“What about her?”
James followed coach Butler into his office, taking a seat before the coach even got to his own chair.
“Make yourself at home,” coach Butler laughed as he started his computer, “Ty, when are the people coming in for the goal-posts?”
“Twelve-thirty,” replied the running back coach that was sticking up a new wallpaper from the University of Houston, “Marcus and them were going to get here a little bit before that, start painting the lines.”
“Coach,” James got his attention back, “I just need a little nudge, I don’t need you telling them that they have to come here.”
“Be glad I’m letting Tyler even do it,” coach Butler scoffed.
James’ latest sales pitch fell flat. Carlos had allowed him to use the gym during after-hours to train his relative-through-confusion Javier but James figured that given that Javier wasn’t a paying customer, he might as well get some. His first hunting ground was the high school circuit and he was hoping coach Butler -- newly promoted head coach following coach Collins’ retirement -- would promote his new program to the rest of the team.
“If I won state,” James got up, “You’d have let me do it.”
“If you won state,” coach Butler looked up from his computer, “You wouldn’t be sitting here and neither would I.”
The two shared a laugh and then a hug. James had become almost a stranger to his old stomping grounds but his newfound profession as a part-time personal trainer had brought him back to his roots.
James said goodbye to the rest of the coaches that were helping renovate the facilities during the one-week break that they gave the players between the end of summer workouts and the beginning of camp.
He made his way out of the athletic complex and started the quarter-mile trek across campus to the parking lot. Summer school was over with and his car stood out in the parking lot along with another familiar make, model and color.
James wasn’t sure what to say at first, if he should say anything. He had seen her but she hadn’t seen him. He had stopped trying to contact her for months now and even when he was trying to contact her, he wasn’t really sure what he’d say or how he would feel. Angry? Betrayed? Apologetic? A simple hey would do for now.
“Hi,” James walked up to the passenger side window.
She nearly jumped out of her seat, dropping her phone to her lap. She looked down and picked it back up before returning a soft greeting, “Hey.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you here,” James’ voice cracked halfway through his sentence, causing him to clear his throat.
“My brother is trying to get a job on the staff,” she explained.
“I thought he was coaching at Laney?”
“He got tired of Oakland,” she shook her head, “His kid turned three last month and he’s trying to make up for lost time. Maybe you can slide in his resume at Frank’s, huh?”
James was confused until he remembered what shirt he was wearing, “Oh, yeah, stopped by here before my shirt started.”
“Best you get going, then, huh?”
James nodded, giving her a half a wave before turning around. This had somehow gone worse than he could have imagined.
“Wait, I’m sorry.”
James looked back over his shoulder as Beck was now getting out of the car. It had been the longest stretch of time they had spent apart from each other, not seeing each other or even communicating. He couldn’t help but notice the few pounds she gained. Freshman 15 was a myth. For her case, it was more like thirty.
“I just....you know, I’m sorry.”
“I should be apologizing,” James brought his hand to his chest, “I acted like a dick that night, I’ve acted like a dick since I’ve met you and honestly, I deserved what happened.”
“No, you don’t. I didn’t do it because of that night, I did it because I was....I was just angry. You never treated me like you treated that girl on prom night, you were so gentle, so caring.....I never saw that from you. I was just the homegirl you got high with and fucked sometimes. The whole school knew you were fucking on me with everyone and I still wore that but that night....I just snapped.”
“I get it,” James had grown tired of feeling sorry for himself, “At some point, I got to face the music and that was it.”
“I didn’t think it would get that big. That’s not what I wanted. I didn’t want you to not go to Fresno, I just wanted....I don’t know what I want.”
“It’s fine, it really is. I did this, not you.”
“I’m going to make you late for your shift now,” she cleared her throat, “Get you fired twice.”
“That’s funny,” he laughed, “They actually didn’t fire me, they just told me not to come. Semantics but I take pride in it.”
They stood there awkwardly, unsure how to end this. This was the end. This should be the end. They had played their purpose in each other’s life. Staying any longer would just be asking for trouble.
“So....after work, like, what are you doing?”
....
“No way!”
“I’m telling you,” James shook his head, “She’s the one that set it off.”
“Nasty bitch,” Beck said with disgust in her voice, “Iman still wifed her after that?”
“Took me by surprise,” James shrugged, “Out of all the girls he could have bagged, he bagged her regular ass after we flipped her.”
James phone rang and he took a glance at it before stuffing it back into his pocket.
“You’re trash,” she took a drag, “Isn’t it weird, having sex with your friend?”
“I wasn’t having sex with him,” James corrected her, “It’s called flipping, you don’t really do nothing with each other. Eyes up all the time, those are the rules.”
“You’re a veteran, huh?”
“My dumbass didn’t consider it cheating,” he took the blunt from her, “As dumb as that sounds, for some reason, I didn’t really feel bad about those.”
“And the others?”
“At first,” James took a few inhales before coughing, “But after a while, I just figured you knew and was okay with and stopped feeling bad. You?”
“Never.”
“Bullshit.”
“Not once,” she reiterated, “I came close once though.”
“At Poly?”
“Never at Poly. You were like a fucking god at Poly and every guy was on your fucking dick so they woudn’t even dare look at me.”
“So Irvine?”
“Yup.”
“What happened?”
“We get to the room, smoking and chilling and we start making out and stuff and then his dick just wouldn’t get hard.”
“Wow!”
“Shut up,” Beck tried to punch James in the arm but he got out of the way, causing her to lean into him.
They stood there for awhile. The night came and went and they had spent it under the stars on the roof of James’ car, smoking a few blunts and telling old tales. James admitting his many infidelities was somehow cathartic for him. For her, it was bordering on erotic as she would ask for every single detail.
“When you were with those girls,” she looked up into his eyes, “Did you enjoy it? Were you ever thinking about....I don’t know, me? Us?”
“If my meat was soft, I’d think about you. For real though,” he put the blunt out and threw it on the dirt lot, “A couple times I couldn’t even do it because you were in my head. I don’t know, I guess I just liked feeling like the man and feeling wanted.”
“We all want that.”
Beck leaned in some more until their lips pressed against each other until James’ phone started vibrating again.
He pulled away from Beck and pressed down on the power button on his phone, “Sorry about that.”
“Way to kill the mood,” she laughed.
“The perfect ambience,” James pointed to the empty parking lot, “That’s what get you wet, huh?”
“You know me,” she sat up, “The house should be empty.”
....
“Fuck,” James muttered to himself as he took a sniff of his shirt.
Yesterday’s stench was still on it as he threw it over his head, keeping his gait as he opened the backdoor into the restaurant.
“I know, I know. I’m late,” James said out loud once he reached the kitchen, not to anyone specifically.
“Jimmy?”
“I know,” he shook his head, “I don’t have the bus excuse this time, Shannon, but I swear I have a legitimate ex...”
“What are you doing here?” Eric stormed out of his office.
“My fault,” James held his hands up, “I overslept and I’ll make up for it.”
“James,” Eric placed his hand on his chest to stop him from pacing around the kitchen, trying to clean the stacked up dishes.
“What? What? Why is everyone looking at me? Come on, y’all been late bef....”
“Oh no,” Shannon muttered as she placed her hand on her head, “Poor baby.”
“You didn’t hear?” Eric asked him.
“Hear what? What? What? What’s going on? Y’all are freaking me out,” James forced a laugh, “This some sort of prank or joke because I’m always late?”
“It’s.....it’s....it’s Tiffany, man.”
“What about her?”
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2208
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Explosions of Grandeur.
Oh my guy, you can't leave me with a cliffhanger like that.
Explosions of Grandeur.
dropping a four pack today to get rid of y'all monday scaries.
Explosions of Grandeur.
“This is your fault! You did this! Get your fucking hands off me! He did this! He did it!”
“Sorry about that....we didn’t think....”
“Gordon, I need him. You got the ID?”
“Yeah, it’s her.”
....
“I’m going to try to get you out of here pretty quickly, know this is probably a tough time. You want something to drink, water or maybe some coffee?”
James kept his focus on the white, brick walls. This wasn’t his first time in a room like this, he spent practically half his childhood in rooms like these. He remembered the coldness. They were cold, always cold, always so fucking cold. No matter how much he rubbed his hands up against his arms or blew into cusped hands, it was still so, so fucking cold.
“This is just standard, Mr. Jackson. We need to do our due diligence and just take care of some things, you understand, right?”
James nodded his head as Detective Martell pressed down on a button on the black recorder.
“I’m here with...”
....
“What time did you get the second call, you’d say?”
“I don’t know,” James scratched his nose, “Somewhere around nine, ten o’clock.”
“You two were living together, right?”
“Yeah. We moved in like a few weeks ago at the apartment.”
“So you live in that apartment, sleep at that apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“So you were with....Beck...Rebecca Birnbach at the Shop-a-Lot parking lot, anybody else see you there?”
“I don’t know.....it’s a fucking abandonned lot. You go there not to be seen so no, I don’t know if anyone else saw us.”
“Where’d you guys go after that?”
“To her house.”
“What time?”
“Close to midnight,” James cleared his throat, “I know that because when we were walking into her house, I passed the microwave clock and I saw it at midnight.”
“Did you get any other calls that night?”
“I don’t know. My phone died.”
“It died?”
“Yeah.”
“At what point did you notice your phone died?”
“I don’t know,” James scratched his beard, “When I didn’t wake up for work, I guess.”
“What time did you wake up?”
“It was somewhere around eleven by the time I got to my car,” James replied, “Don’t know when I woke up but couldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
“Was Rebecca with you the entirety of the night?”
“Yes.”
“What is the nature of your relationship with Rebecca?”
“She’s....a friend, I guess. Ex-girlfriend, friend, something like that.”
“What was your relationship with the deceased?”
James paused, “We were friends.”
“Friends?”
“We have....we were going to have a kid together, I think. We were living together, we were friends, yeah, I’d say we were friends too.”
“Do you know of a gentlemen by the name Jakobi Mayberry?”
....
“I’m coming!”
James swung open the door violently before the face that greeted him softened him a bit. He tried to greet them but before his mouth could open and form words, they had already entered the apartment.
“This is where you’ve been hiding?” Beck looked around the apartment, inspecting the empty cases of beer next to the half-empty styrofoam plates of takeouts. The mail envelopes on the kitchen counter were stacking up as well, majority of them with bright, bold red letters all over them.
“How’d you know where I live?” James closed the door before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a cold one. It was five P.M. somewhere.
“A girl has her ways,” she scoffed, “You’re also very easy to track down, might I say. You better never owe anyone money because simply saying the “white boy” around here narrows you down quite a bit. Throw in Poly football, Tim Riggins-wanna be and they’re right at your doorstep. Fine, fine. I asked coach Butler. Happy?”
“Not really,” James joined her on the couch, “Social visit?”
“Sobriety check,” Beck grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a sip, “I don’t know how you drink this piss.”
“I came out of my momma’s pussy drinking Natty Light,” he took it back from her, “You’re a fancy white, that’s why.”
“I’ve been called worse,” she shrugged, “How are you holding up?”
“You see it,” he nodded, “I’m fine, appreciate you coming out.”
Beck couldn’t help her eyes linger into the bedroom, where the door was open. There was still a woman’s touch in there, as well as her clothes. Her Walmart uniform was still laid out on that bed for that shift she never got to.
James caught her lingering eyes, “I....I was going to tell you, it’s just that....”
“You don’t have to explain,” Beck shook her head, “Back then and even now, especially now with everything that happened.”
“I just wish things were different,” James sunk into the couch, “Everything was different.”
“I gave you two weeks,” she slapped him on the thigh, “Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself, feeling bad about everything and get your life back on track.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t make it easier with....you know, but still, you’re good at football and last I checked, that means something. Shit, how else you think my two shit-brain brothers have a college diploma?”
“Beck.”
“Get dressed,” she sat up, “You’re going on a football team, you're going to school. You need it, I need it, I need you to be okay. I need you to be fucking something or else all of this shit was for nothing.”
“Sorry about that....we didn’t think....”
“Gordon, I need him. You got the ID?”
“Yeah, it’s her.”
....
“I’m going to try to get you out of here pretty quickly, know this is probably a tough time. You want something to drink, water or maybe some coffee?”
James kept his focus on the white, brick walls. This wasn’t his first time in a room like this, he spent practically half his childhood in rooms like these. He remembered the coldness. They were cold, always cold, always so fucking cold. No matter how much he rubbed his hands up against his arms or blew into cusped hands, it was still so, so fucking cold.
“This is just standard, Mr. Jackson. We need to do our due diligence and just take care of some things, you understand, right?”
James nodded his head as Detective Martell pressed down on a button on the black recorder.
“I’m here with...”
....
“What time did you get the second call, you’d say?”
“I don’t know,” James scratched his nose, “Somewhere around nine, ten o’clock.”
“You two were living together, right?”
“Yeah. We moved in like a few weeks ago at the apartment.”
“So you live in that apartment, sleep at that apartment?”
“Yeah.”
“So you were with....Beck...Rebecca Birnbach at the Shop-a-Lot parking lot, anybody else see you there?”
“I don’t know.....it’s a fucking abandonned lot. You go there not to be seen so no, I don’t know if anyone else saw us.”
“Where’d you guys go after that?”
“To her house.”
“What time?”
“Close to midnight,” James cleared his throat, “I know that because when we were walking into her house, I passed the microwave clock and I saw it at midnight.”
“Did you get any other calls that night?”
“I don’t know. My phone died.”
“It died?”
“Yeah.”
“At what point did you notice your phone died?”
“I don’t know,” James scratched his beard, “When I didn’t wake up for work, I guess.”
“What time did you wake up?”
“It was somewhere around eleven by the time I got to my car,” James replied, “Don’t know when I woke up but couldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
“Was Rebecca with you the entirety of the night?”
“Yes.”
“What is the nature of your relationship with Rebecca?”
“She’s....a friend, I guess. Ex-girlfriend, friend, something like that.”
“What was your relationship with the deceased?”
James paused, “We were friends.”
“Friends?”
“We have....we were going to have a kid together, I think. We were living together, we were friends, yeah, I’d say we were friends too.”
“Do you know of a gentlemen by the name Jakobi Mayberry?”
....
“I’m coming!”
James swung open the door violently before the face that greeted him softened him a bit. He tried to greet them but before his mouth could open and form words, they had already entered the apartment.
“This is where you’ve been hiding?” Beck looked around the apartment, inspecting the empty cases of beer next to the half-empty styrofoam plates of takeouts. The mail envelopes on the kitchen counter were stacking up as well, majority of them with bright, bold red letters all over them.
“How’d you know where I live?” James closed the door before heading into the kitchen and grabbing a cold one. It was five P.M. somewhere.
“A girl has her ways,” she scoffed, “You’re also very easy to track down, might I say. You better never owe anyone money because simply saying the “white boy” around here narrows you down quite a bit. Throw in Poly football, Tim Riggins-wanna be and they’re right at your doorstep. Fine, fine. I asked coach Butler. Happy?”
“Not really,” James joined her on the couch, “Social visit?”
“Sobriety check,” Beck grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a sip, “I don’t know how you drink this piss.”
“I came out of my momma’s pussy drinking Natty Light,” he took it back from her, “You’re a fancy white, that’s why.”
“I’ve been called worse,” she shrugged, “How are you holding up?”
“You see it,” he nodded, “I’m fine, appreciate you coming out.”
Beck couldn’t help her eyes linger into the bedroom, where the door was open. There was still a woman’s touch in there, as well as her clothes. Her Walmart uniform was still laid out on that bed for that shift she never got to.
James caught her lingering eyes, “I....I was going to tell you, it’s just that....”
“You don’t have to explain,” Beck shook her head, “Back then and even now, especially now with everything that happened.”
“I just wish things were different,” James sunk into the couch, “Everything was different.”
“I gave you two weeks,” she slapped him on the thigh, “Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself, feeling bad about everything and get your life back on track.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“I know, I know. I didn’t make it easier with....you know, but still, you’re good at football and last I checked, that means something. Shit, how else you think my two shit-brain brothers have a college diploma?”
“Beck.”
“Get dressed,” she sat up, “You’re going on a football team, you're going to school. You need it, I need it, I need you to be okay. I need you to be fucking something or else all of this shit was for nothing.”
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 2208
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Explosions of Grandeur.
Damn, I'm gonna need that next three, family.
Explosions of Grandeur.
James kept bouncing his foot up and down on the carpet floor as he waited outside of the office. He had decided against Beck coming with him during the visit. It was bad enough that she was the one that set up the meeting, the last thing he wanted his potential future head coach thinking was that he needed a babysitter.
Even though he really did.
“Come on in.”
James got up and walked through the door, shaking coach Peabody’s hand before taking a seat across from his desk.
“How are you doing, James?”
“I can’t complain,” James shrugged.
“I’m glad your....friend reached out to me about you potentially wanting to play and I know we spoke a bit on the phone but I tell our guys all the time, I want guys that want to be here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I understand,” coach Peabody leaned back against his chair, “No one really wants to be here but once you’re here, I want you to want to want the make the most of the opportunity. This isn’t an excuse to wear a jersey for two more years, get to be one of the guys for a few more before going into the real world.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I know you had a lot going on and first, I want to say I am sorry for your loss, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through and went through. For you to be standing here today in front of me, I commend you for that.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Marcus Wiley spoke very highly of you,” he nodded, “Coach Butler had some good things to say too and I’ll have to say son, I was always impressed with your film. You’ve got the legs, we can work with the passing mechanics and what not -- that’s my job -- and you’ve got the body. You’re a little slim down from the last time I saw you. Where you at right now?”
“About 213,” James swayed his head from side to side.
“What’d you play at last year?”
“230, 240.”
“You’re a big boy for a quarterback,” coach Peabody let out a belly laugh, “I’ve seen your combine numbers, you’re a goddamn linebacker trying to play quarterback and you know what? I don’t mind one bit!”
“Thank you, sir.”
“The season starts in ten days,” coach Peabody cleared his throat, “I’ve got guys that have been in all summer, all spring. We got a kid in from Westchester, Jonathan, he’s looking like he might share some snaps at Q with my son, Drake. Don’t go running now, you hear me?”
“Yes, coach. I won’t,” James laughed.
“He’s my boy,” coach Peabody shrugged, “But if you’re the guy I think you are, I don’t see a reason why you can’t compete for a starting spot by the middle of the season. You’ll have to earn it, though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now,” coach Peabody got up, “Candice on your left when you step out will get you set up and everything, get you enrolled just in time to strap on those helmets by next Monday. Welcome to Long Beach City College, James.”
....
“We’ve finally been able to get work done around here.”
“Not have to worry about people eating our food, too.”
“Yup, that’s right, girl.”
“Y’all missed me. Come on, admit it!”
Janet and Sharon shared a look before they both started laughing.
“Just a little bit,” Sharon created a small distance between her thumb and index finger, holding it up.
“We had to carry all the damn heavy stuff,” Janet chimed in, “That’s about it, though.”
“You guys are going to miss me,” James waved his finger in their faces before heading into Eric’s office, “Boss man, boss man.”
“You would show up during the dinner rush,” Eric got up and hugged James, “You got yourself a plate or something?”
“I’m good,” James rubbed his belly, “I need to hit the gym and let Carlos know what’s up too and I’m trying to avoid the traffic, get up out of here.”
“You look good,” Eric smiled, “Yeah, man, you look good.”
“You trying to hit on me or something? You couldn’t wait for me to quit to try something, avoid any lawsuits while I’m working for you and soon as I put my notice in, you’re going to try to bag me. I see the vision.”
“Shut your ass up,” Eric laughed, “I’m just glad you ain’t try to fuck any of your co-workers while you were here. Knowing how you got down, that’s why I almost ain’t hired your ass or made you only work the after-hours shift.”
“If the talent was better,” James muttered with a dry chuckle, “I probably would have.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I open a restaurant.”
“You do that,” James nodded, “I’m serious, though. I’m giving your ass about five years and if it isn’t an Eric’s Kitchen somewhere around here, my foot going in your ass.”
“And if you’re not college graduate James Jackson in five years, my foot going in yours.”
“Real spill though,” James cleared his throat, “You really came through for me with this shit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Eric waved him off.
“For real. I don’t know where I’d be without this job or what I’d be doing....shit, I do know and the shit ain’t good. You really looked out for me and I want to say thank you, man.”
“I just need a jersey,” Eric kept it light, “That’s how you pay me back. I don’t want no bum ass City jersey either, I need like USC or UCLA with Jackson on the back. One of those schools.”
“I got you.”
Even though he really did.
“Come on in.”
James got up and walked through the door, shaking coach Peabody’s hand before taking a seat across from his desk.
“How are you doing, James?”
“I can’t complain,” James shrugged.
“I’m glad your....friend reached out to me about you potentially wanting to play and I know we spoke a bit on the phone but I tell our guys all the time, I want guys that want to be here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I understand,” coach Peabody leaned back against his chair, “No one really wants to be here but once you’re here, I want you to want to want the make the most of the opportunity. This isn’t an excuse to wear a jersey for two more years, get to be one of the guys for a few more before going into the real world.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I know you had a lot going on and first, I want to say I am sorry for your loss, I can’t even imagine what you’re going through and went through. For you to be standing here today in front of me, I commend you for that.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Marcus Wiley spoke very highly of you,” he nodded, “Coach Butler had some good things to say too and I’ll have to say son, I was always impressed with your film. You’ve got the legs, we can work with the passing mechanics and what not -- that’s my job -- and you’ve got the body. You’re a little slim down from the last time I saw you. Where you at right now?”
“About 213,” James swayed his head from side to side.
“What’d you play at last year?”
“230, 240.”
“You’re a big boy for a quarterback,” coach Peabody let out a belly laugh, “I’ve seen your combine numbers, you’re a goddamn linebacker trying to play quarterback and you know what? I don’t mind one bit!”
“Thank you, sir.”
“The season starts in ten days,” coach Peabody cleared his throat, “I’ve got guys that have been in all summer, all spring. We got a kid in from Westchester, Jonathan, he’s looking like he might share some snaps at Q with my son, Drake. Don’t go running now, you hear me?”
“Yes, coach. I won’t,” James laughed.
“He’s my boy,” coach Peabody shrugged, “But if you’re the guy I think you are, I don’t see a reason why you can’t compete for a starting spot by the middle of the season. You’ll have to earn it, though.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now,” coach Peabody got up, “Candice on your left when you step out will get you set up and everything, get you enrolled just in time to strap on those helmets by next Monday. Welcome to Long Beach City College, James.”
....
“We’ve finally been able to get work done around here.”
“Not have to worry about people eating our food, too.”
“Yup, that’s right, girl.”
“Y’all missed me. Come on, admit it!”
Janet and Sharon shared a look before they both started laughing.
“Just a little bit,” Sharon created a small distance between her thumb and index finger, holding it up.
“We had to carry all the damn heavy stuff,” Janet chimed in, “That’s about it, though.”
“You guys are going to miss me,” James waved his finger in their faces before heading into Eric’s office, “Boss man, boss man.”
“You would show up during the dinner rush,” Eric got up and hugged James, “You got yourself a plate or something?”
“I’m good,” James rubbed his belly, “I need to hit the gym and let Carlos know what’s up too and I’m trying to avoid the traffic, get up out of here.”
“You look good,” Eric smiled, “Yeah, man, you look good.”
“You trying to hit on me or something? You couldn’t wait for me to quit to try something, avoid any lawsuits while I’m working for you and soon as I put my notice in, you’re going to try to bag me. I see the vision.”
“Shut your ass up,” Eric laughed, “I’m just glad you ain’t try to fuck any of your co-workers while you were here. Knowing how you got down, that’s why I almost ain’t hired your ass or made you only work the after-hours shift.”
“If the talent was better,” James muttered with a dry chuckle, “I probably would have.”
“I’ll keep that in mind when I open a restaurant.”
“You do that,” James nodded, “I’m serious, though. I’m giving your ass about five years and if it isn’t an Eric’s Kitchen somewhere around here, my foot going in your ass.”
“And if you’re not college graduate James Jackson in five years, my foot going in yours.”
“Real spill though,” James cleared his throat, “You really came through for me with this shit.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Eric waved him off.
“For real. I don’t know where I’d be without this job or what I’d be doing....shit, I do know and the shit ain’t good. You really looked out for me and I want to say thank you, man.”
“I just need a jersey,” Eric kept it light, “That’s how you pay me back. I don’t want no bum ass City jersey either, I need like USC or UCLA with Jackson on the back. One of those schools.”
“I got you.”