Complexion (A Zulu Love?)
Mandisa Isoka King
“No, Tommy, we’re not coming back to Paris! The last time you followed us, I told you that it was over! Look at what you’ve done to her! Mandisa is just a baby,” Mami cried into her phone upstairs. She was arguing with Daddy again. He called at least once a week, trying to get her to come back. “I am sick of hospitals and bills for therapists, Tomny. No! Amani is not going to have a monster controlling her like Queen.”
I took a sip of water to wash away the horrible dryness from all the different medications I take aside from my heart condition. I’ve taken mood elevators, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety. I’m diagnosed as bipolar now; It’s gotten worse through the years. Being homeschooled and bullied by my father has me flying from one extreme to the next emotionally. My heart isn’t the correct size to handle all the stress. I’ve never been healthy, and Daddy is making it worse. I’ll be fine, as long as Amani is born with a whole heart. If Mami does go back afterward…I don’t think I will make the trip with her back to Paris, where he can hold me hostage.
Daddy’s favorite hobby would be to parade me around his wealthy strange older friends, judging my appearance. Each time we packed our things and left, Daddy found us and talked her into moving back to Paris. He lured her home with his promises of getting help, wanting to make things right, and showering us with gifts. Then Daddy would snap. Something would set him off, and he would turn on me.
He became angry, grew aggressive, and would start talking about some doctor named Patesh. He was always surrounded by very wealthy men, and for some reason, Daddy took pride in showing off his lovely Black Queen and Princess. Then brag about how his family had always had the best taste in breeding stock behind Mami’s back. He loved my mother, but he was a monster!
The first time we ran, when she discovered she was pregnant with Amani, Mami told me we needed to go, and she couldn’t take it anymore. I saw Daddy and Mami fighting, and I had a meltdown. I woke up in the hospital. So, we packed as much as we could get in our suitcases and flew to Philadelphia to stay with Granny. I was so relieved to be away from him. I even made my first friend there. We were there a week, and Granny called my father to come to get us. I had met my grandmother once before that happened. When my father showed up, she took money from him, and my mother vowed never to speak to her again.
This last time we ran, Daddy did not suspect at all. Two weeks ago, Mami and I left while he was on call, we got away from the hospital. Mami sold all her jewelry, emptied her credit cards, and we came here to Texas. An old friend of Mami’s owned this house. He let us move in and promised not to say a word to Dr. Thomas King. I don’t know what’s wrong with my father, but he’s changed the last few years.
It seems the older I become, the worse he treats us. I don’t care what happens to me anymore. But I don’t want my baby sister to be near him! Mami ran for the same reason, but deep down, I know she still loves him. I believe this hurts me the most with Amani unborn.
I know my father has been awful for years. Mami knows it too, but she’s been running from him with me for so long nothing feels like home. Huh…It’s so strange looking at myself in any mirror. I see my mother, and I get sad. I have Mami’s copper curls, fair skin, and hazel eyes. Mami and I looked nearly identical in the last family photo we took. My age is the only difference. Mami is the most beautiful woman, she’s so loving and kind, and I’m like her in many ways. It makes me afraid to talk to anyone. What if I meet a man like my father?
Daddy is so opinionated about people of color. I never heard him talk down on black women he knew, but he could be a racist white man. His family was from Macon, Georgia. All their family back down the line were doctors and surgeons. He always had money and could have anything he wanted to buy. Including my mother, Mami told me when I turned 14 that her mother sold her to my father when she was starting college. They had priorly started dating, and Daddy couldn’t stay focused unless Mami was around. She went along with marriage to make her mother happy, help Daddy finish medical school, and get her life back on track after a bad breakup.
My mother is all that I have ever had. She’s been there for me through the worst and at my best. But sometimes, I wonder what she’s thinking. She’s always looking out for others and giving until there’s nothing left. How could she love a man like my father at all? He’s always looking down on anyone that isn’t wealthy. The words that he says and the way he says them hurt.
I’ve never had a friend longer than a week when he’s around because he ran them off. No boy ever attempted to be nice to me, or he cut them to the quick. He scares me with his angry, violent tantrums because I know Daddy can hurt Mami now. She’s pregnant, and he hit her, and she fought back this last time. I just want to be free of this one way or the other. For 16 years, he’s treated my mother and me as he doesn’t love us, and now he wants to get rid of me. But I can’t leave my baby sister with him!
#
The front porch was my early getaway. The weather is cool and sunny here in the mornings. The yard is full of life with all the tall shrubs around the driveway. It’s the perfect place to blend into nature and feel at peace. I love all the flowers. But the sunflowers and buttercups have to be my favorite. The yellow flowers remind me of the sun, but Mami says they remind her of my hair and skin.
“Queen, I am going to the market a few blocks down the corner,” Mami smiled, pushing the screen open wide, holding her basketball-sized tummy in her yellow sundress and slippers as she waddled out to join me. I jumped to get up, but she shook her head. She had pulled her hair back in a curly sunset behind one of my yellow headbands. Her gray eyes flickered blue as she cuddled my cheek. “Did you take your pills, Disa?”
“I took them a few minutes ago. Are you feeling okay? You are moving slower these days,” I worried as I played with her beige fingernails on my shoulder. I noticed Mami’s ring and looked away.
“I’m fine, Mon Cheri. I’m just huge!” she snickered, clutching her tummy. “I’m going to get food just up the hill. You sit and relax, okay?”
“Let me come and help, Mami?” I pleaded, climbing up again.
I eased her down the steps from the porch. She smirked as she shoved my hand.
“I said I’m fine! I can go get the groceries alone, Queen! Sit and enjoy this beautiful day Jehovah ‘Jah’ has made. Besides, HE might come by again,” Mami mocked. She grinned and pushed my arm.
“Mami!” I snorted, suddenly blushing. Mami was the one that spied that boy the first day we moved in. I noticed him running all over the neighborhood with his head so far in the clouds that he seemed like he was flying. “He soars by every day about this time. But he doesn’t see me here.”
“Perhaps you should make the first move! It’s not the 50s, Queen! Women CAN approach men NOW. You like him, don’t you?” Mami questioned me, raising her eyebrows grinning beautifully. Her gray eyes sparkled at me as her cheeks reddened pinker. Mami’s golden and brown curls fought the breeze glancing around skeptically.
She knew I did! I sat out there and observed HIM jog past our house every day for a week now. However, I was too terrified to say hello. I scratched the back of my leg with my foot, still blushing deeply, and slipped my mother into the car. She placed her seatbelt as I rushed to open the gate. A quiet wind fanned my wet mane against my face. I started putting it up when I spotted HIM.
He was running along our edge of the lane on the pavement, dribbling his soccer ball with his gorgeous muscular legs magnificently. I flushed worse and moved back, disappearing behind the greenery along the fence. My eyes had never seen a brown boy so handsome. He had long brown and black dreadlocks that hung neatly in a ponytail down to his shoulders. He was sporting a red headband drenched with perspiration, and small rivers of sweat ran down his semi-sweet chocolate-colored coating. He wore a very tight black compression shirt. I could catch every muscle in his massive chest and trim torso flexing as he moved.
He was a bit taller than me with bulging gorgeous runners’ legs. The black compression shorts he wore were concealed by red soccer shorts, and they were just the proper elasticity to see the definition in those thighs! His quadriceps flexed like thick logs and relaxed as he dribbled the ball.
He possessed a gorgeous symmetrical face, too. This beautiful black man wore glasses, sometimes, like this morning. He held the most adorable baby face with no facial hair but had expressive eyebrows. His eyes were almond-shaped with these clever thick brows, a wide pointed nose, and tiny round lips that looked like a heart when he pressed them together, concentrating.
As Mami started backing out, he noticed her car and quickly moved ahead out of her way. I kept quiet near the fence as he crossed the street. His concentration seemed off today as he lost pace and kept staring at his left arm. He was listening to music, and his Mp3 player must be acting up.
“Talk to him!” Mami giggled while backing out into the street gradually. “I bet he’s heading to the park down the road. Just say hello, Queen. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“He will laugh at me? He has a girlfriend? He’s gay! I know! He’s a serial killer!” I kidded, folding my arms, discouraged. There’s no way Daddy would let me have another friend. A boy like that would be out of the question. One look at a black man and Daddy would go into a fit of rage, and one this pretty would drive him insane. “Daddy will chase him away.”
“Your father’s not here,” Mami chanted beautifully before she drove off.
My facial expression must have made it simple for her to read my mind. I minded her heading up the road a moment. Then I spied HIM again as he paused on the footpath near the park. It was close enough to the house. My heart jumped, thumping against my chest like a jackhammer as I considered listening to my mother. But, instead, I rubbed my hands together and started wandering the drive.
“I can’t do this,” I said to myself as I walked around in a circle. As I got near the gate again, the beautiful boy was still there, distracted again by something else. “Okay, maybe I’ll just say ‘Hey’ and introduce myself. If he’s weird. I’ll run away. I’m pretty fast.”
I took a deep breath, exhaled, and popped a cherry-flavored candy in my mouth. I tied my hair up in a bun headed up the sidewalk. It was so breezy now. I caught sight of him near a tree trying to fix his music player. I shivered and found a tree to hide, observing him again.
Okay, I was deceiving myself. There was no way I could outrun this boy. His legs were constructed to destroy pavement! If he stole me and darted, there would be nothing I could do to fight him! But appreciating him from a distance as he dribbled his ball in place with a focused expression…I wanted to know him.
He shut his eyes for a moment and lost sight of his soccer ball. It started to bowl into the park downhill towards the pond. Hmm…maybe this could be a good morning after all? If he dove into the water to get it, I could see a lovely exhibition…. But, no, he might just abandon it. I glared. He still had his eyes closed. I decided to go after the ball.
I raced it down the hill into the park then caught it before it could spin into the water. I stooped over, seizing it, and took it between my fingers. My nails were so long they needed to be trimmed down, curling around the ball. I could feel this warm glow all around it, felt so exhilarating, as I rose up, turning around. He was gazing right at me!
He didn’t speak a word. He just stared at me with those big brown eyes over his glasses. I managed to smile nervously. The wind was causing the droplets of sweat to trail down his powerful shoulders. He seemed like a melting candy bar in the flickering sunlight between the overhead shadows. My heart crashed, started again, and it sprinted away as I shuddered.
“Hey,” I breathed while I clutched the ball to my heart, terrified.
“Hey,” He uttered, jerking out his earbuds. His eyes exploded as his lips curled into an adorable smile, and his eyebrows lifted over his glasses. Then, he stood up straight, and his entire body seemed transformed. It was as if he was suddenly ten feet tall, grinning down at me.
“Lose sight of something?” I asked, grasping his ball. His long locks swayed, detecting his error, and he nodded gently. I love long hair on men. It didn’t matter the texture, color, or style. Mami said I was a lioness with my natural blond curls, so I love manes. The longer, the more I need to touch it. His hair hung to his lean shoulders in a thick ponytail and seemed so soft. “I spotted it near the pond and saved it.”
The breeze gathered up again when I hurled the soccer ball to him. I heard the solid sound of the impact. It hit him in the center of his chest, and I hoped I didn’t throw it too hard. His hand caught it like a reflex then he suddenly stirred. Glancing up at me through his golden frames, which looked dazzling in the morning sunlight, his eyes grew so soft and sweet.
“Yeah, it got away from me. The breeze is a little strong,” He declared. His voice was deep and kind as he leered more. He held it close to his body, and his smile swelled greater. I felt satisfied that I had actually talked to him as I glanced back toward my house. “I’ve never seen you around before. You have an accent. I love it.”
“Oui, my Mami and I, we moved here about a week ago,” I replied as I glanced back at him. He took a step near me, and suddenly I couldn’t move.
“Is that right? Things are beginning to unexpectedly appear hopeful around here,” he stated. His arms grew tense as he began to twirl the ball, eyeing me. However, his shoulders were relaxed, and his smile dazzled me.
He advanced nearer, holding out his hand. I was so glad he was offering to shake my hand. American boys were so very different than everywhere else I had lived. I never liked to be touched unexpectedly by strangers. I would have moved if he had come any closer or tried to touch me any other way. Instead, I drew his hand over and shook it, beaming.
There was so much warmth coming from his skin. He gawked at my hand, admiring my fingernails, and demanded, “What’s your name, Sunshine?”
“Mandisa, Mandisa Isoka King, what is your name?” I requested. All I could do was smile, being close to this boy. These strange ripples were running over me as he kept my hand; his eyes plunged. They began to examine me seriously, and I felt incredibly underdressed. I had only put on my Prince tee shirt and a pair of purple leggings. He seemed to think otherwise, grinning at my slippers.
“I’m Hakim Jahlil Dunn, Mandisa. Your name is distinct and very lovely,” Hakim declared to me, grinning yet nestling my hand. He looked intensely into my eyes. I felt suddenly awkward as his fingers began to fondle my hand. His russet eyes looking me over made me feel peculiar. I yanked it away, cackling anxiously.
“Very nice to know you, Hakim,” I replied.
“The blessing is truly mine, Mandisa,” Hakim affirmed, glaring at me again. He twirled the ball between his fingers and leered at me. “I run through this park every day. I have never stopped until today. Eight years I’ve traced this street, then like magic, here you are, Mandisa. That’s ironic, I suppose. It’s never been as lovely as it is right this minute. Huh, feels like fate.”
I stretched my fingernails along my neck, giggling, “Very smooth, Hakim. I bet the girls really eat that up.”
“I’ve never said that to a woman before, Mandisa. Not many women can hold my attention for long. I get bored easily,” Hakim disclosed. He tilted his head slightly while nibbling his bottom lip, flirting with me. It was like Hakim was aiming to say something with his eyes. I wanted to head home, and he was making me worried by glaring at me. My eyes kept drifting to Hakim’s lovely defined arms and legs, thinking how much stronger Hakim was than me. I thought he was sweet, and now that we spoke, we would talk again, perhaps. But I did not need to press my luck. “You’re a beautiful woman, Mandisa King.”
“I am only seventeen, Hakim, so I wouldn’t say a woman just yet,” I informed him. I gradually began to stroll up the path toward my house. “By the way, Hakim, you have a gorgeous smile.”
I did it, I spoke to him, and Hakim was delightful!. That conversation was polite and well-mannered, and it was much different from any boy I had ever met in the U.S. He wasn’t demanding of me or too touchy. I stepped to the park gate and peered down the street toward the house. Mami wasn’t home yet. I beamed as I left for the walkway.
“Hey, Mandisa!” I heard Hakim shout as I walked. The grass near the gate had a sprinkler, and I felt the cool spray mist my face. I snorted as Hakim caught my hand abruptly. I was suspended in place as he stomped on his brakes in front of me. “Hey!”
“Oui?” I gulped. He had only gone a few feet from where I left him, but he appeared out of breath, clutching my hand. Hakim’s eyes were wide as he stared down at me with a confident sneer. He touched my fingers and shook his head, beaming. He was so different from the way he grinned at me. It made me blush, and my chest began to heave. Oh, my god! How did he get so considerably intense with a full grin? His first smile was adorable, but when he flashed me those beautiful white teeth…perfection! “Oui, Chocolate Sucre…. Hakim…sorry!”
Hakim’s eyebrows nearly jumped off his face, and his nostrils flared somewhat. I was ready to run. As he kept my hand happy, softly, I started to feel the urge to touch him. His skin was so warm that it was like instant happiness for a moment. It was addictive, and I believe Hakim sensed it too! He didn’t intend to let my hand free.
“Do you live around here, Mandisa?” He inquired, his lips curling beautifully as he caressed my arm. Hakim had the most adorable face up close. His big brown eyes were so expressive like the Precious Moments babies Mami collected. They sparkled in the sunshine, and even when Hakim was smiling, his eyes appeared gloomy. His eyebrows emoted more than his eyes. But that smile was worth a thousand dollars. “May I, please, walk you home?”
“I live just down the road. But why do you want to walk with me, Hakim?” I requested.
“If I walk you home, then my chances of seeing you again improves. Maybe you can bless me tomorrow with sunshine as well?” Hakim responded, his light brown cheeks glowing as he looked into my eyes. Hakim seemed so serious, retaking my hand and stroking my fingers.
“You are sweet, Hakim. You can walk with me,” I sighed, surrendering to his charm.
I gently pulled my arm away before following the sidewalk. Hakim walked next to me. He kept touching his shoulder into mine, getting me to smile. I kept walking, trying not to seem afraid of him. But I was terrified of that fine man! He was no boy. I knew that the moment I saw him up close. Hakim’s body is absolutely Godly! Hakim is not joking when it comes to his training. He is running like he is Forrest Gump! That’s what caught my attention the first day. He ran nearly 30 laps around the park. But that was after we saw Hakim up by the store. So Hakim runs for distance and speed!
He glanced up at the sky and then peered across the street.
“So, where are you from, Mandisa?” he requested. As he spoke to me, he flared his nostrils and raised his eyebrows in a silly manner. Hakim waved his head and sneered. I was trying not to laugh.
“I was born in Monrovia, Liberia. Mami and I moved here from Paris, France,” I replied.
“Wow, so you’ve seen the world?” he queried. An impressed look on his face hinted that he maybe wanted to travel from here. Hakim liked running, so obviously, travel was something he admired. He seemed eager to keep me talking while holding all his attention on me. “I want to know everything about you.”
“You could say I have seen a lot of places, Hakim. Daddy is a heart surgeon. He is very well known in South Africa and Germany, so we have moved around a lot over the years. Well, my mother and I have done the majority of the moving. Daddy is rarely around us much,” I responded.
I found myself sulking. I don’t know why I was talking about my father at all. He was the last person that I needed to bring up. If he knew about this conversation, he would lose his mind! I could almost hear him screaming at me about how I should never trust these ‘black boys’ or any man he doesn’t delegate. So what that my mother was black! None of ‘THEM’ were good enough for me.
Hakim stopped his stride in front of me unexpectedly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re here in our little town, Mandisa. It’s nice to see more color in the suburbs. There aren’t many black people around here,” Hakim informed me. His eyes started dancing. I pushed my previous thoughts away, quickly staring at Hakim. There was something about him that made me feel peaceful.
“It’s so beautiful here. It’s nothing like where we’ve lived before. There were hardly any trees,” I told Hakim, moving a branch overhead. I strolled past him. He stopped to observe me.
“Yeah, it is- perfect, really….” Hakim mumbled under his breath from behind.
“I am sorry. What did you say, Hakim?” I asked, stopping across the street from my house.
“I was just saying how beautiful it is around here. I think you’ll love- it here,” Hakim replied, flinging the soccer ball from one hand to the other, catching up.
“I think so too. I have never met such polite people like here in Texas. Where do you live, Hakim?” I wondered, glancing around at the rainbow-colored flowers in bloom all across the fences down Cooper Rd.
“Um, I live on the next street over, Mandisa. My house really isn’t that far from here. But we- my family- we’re not from Texas. We used to live in Atlanta, Georgia,” Hakim added. I crossed the street and walked into the vine-covered gateway. “Is this your house? I pass here all the time.”
“I know,” I chuckled. I held the gate open for Hakim. He stole it, allowing me to walk through, followed slowly up the stone path to the porch. I climbed the steps and sat back in my spot on the swing. Hakim leaned forward on the porch, pushing the chain, making me sway.
“Atlanta is a long way from here, Hakim. Is it different than Texas? Atlanta is full of bright lights and noise I’ve heard,” I started but paused. I was distracted, staring at the solid muscles in his thigh on the top step. Hakim’s knees, calves, and shins were rock solid. Hakim leaned his head closer toward my face, breaking my gaze. I looked away. He started laughing and pushed the swing again.
“Yeah, it is totally different. But I’ve gotten used to Texas. I didn’t like it at first. In fact, I really hated it here. But it’s alright now. I had a few friends I left behind, but it’s all good, Mandisa,” He mentioned. Hakim smiled downward, watching the swing.
“Why did you move here to Longview, Texas, from Atlanta?” I raised. I reached for my book to stop it from sliding around the swing. Hakim snatched it and stared at the cover. As he glanced back at me, I motioned him to sit. He held my book for a moment then climbed the step to sit next to me.
“My parents… died a few years ago. My grandparents are the only family my brother and I have left. They took the insurance money and got us out of Georgia. My mother was born and raised here in Longview. Grandma thought Texas would be a better place to start over,” Hakim answered as he glanced at my hardcover.
“I am sorry to hear about your parents, Hakim,” I stated, frowning. I watched his hands stroke the cover of the book. His eyes seemed distant for a moment, lost in thought, and he peered up at me.
“It was a long time ago. But I really appreciate it, Mandisa. So, you like to read?” Hakim questioned, quickly changing the subject.
“Oui, I read when I am not busy with everything else that fills my time. I have so many hobbies,” I responded, blushing. Hakim raised his eyebrows suspiciously, eyeing me. I stole my book back, suddenly feeling like a nerd. “Music, art, dance, and studying anything I can get my hands on are the only things I’ve been pursuing.”
“Psychology is a great subject. I’m a Martial Arts/Philosophy buff myself,” Hakim handsomely chuckled, reading the title.
“Really? You read too?” I demanded, giving him the same leery look. He leaned back, driving the swing.
“I read too much, Mandisa. All I do is play sports, study, eat, and chill. I’m a go-with-the-flow type of guy,” Hakim answered, shaking his head getting a few of his locks stuck to the wall behind.
My hand pulled his dreadlocks away from the bricks. Hakim grew quiet, watching me as I twirled one in my fingers, admiring the spongy softness. I couldn’t help wanting to feel the texture of the curls. The sun had bleached the black near his roots, and it was lighter than the ends. Hakim had red, green, and black wooden beads on one. His eyes tracked my fingertips, frolicking across the RBG flag sticker on his mp3 player.
“Wow, Mandisa, you really are a breath of fresh air. You’re beautiful, you’ve got brains, and you’ve got a soft feminine form, too. I must be the luckiest man on Earth right now,” Hakim chuckled, leaning closer so I could touch his hair. “You love it? It’s all me.”
“It is gorgeous, Hakim… It is so long… and thick,” I complimented him. As I ran my fingers through his twisted-up tresses, he leaned back in his seat and stared me in the eye, smiling. “How long have you been growing your hair like this?”
“I started growing an afro when I was really young. It got so long I couldn’t keep up with it. My best friend, Cyrus, he was growing dreads when we were kids. I decided to start getting mine twisted up, too,” He stated prominently as I played with his rope-like twists, “That was five years ago. Now it’s insanely long. I’ll keep getting it twisted and lined up until I get sick of it. Then I don’t know what I’ll do. But I love my crown.”
“It is a very magnificent mane,” I thought, hypnotized. I nearly lept from my seat as Hakim reached for my bun. He was getting comfortable touching me, and it made me nervous. I couldn’t help but tremble when he was so close.
“So, Mandisa, what are you hiding in there? It’s pretty big,” Hakim laughed, ignoring my tremors.
Hakim had a strange guise of suspicion after touching my damp hair. I was sensitive about my appearance, and I knew that sometimes people didn’t think I was black. Hakim made the connection immediately. It was refreshing. But he was obsessed with my features staring at everything.
“I put it up in a hurry! It’s still wet,” I told him, blushing. He leaned into my shoulder, making the swing move.
“Let me see it? Or is it a weave?” He snickered, teasing my embarrassment.
“It is not a weave!” I growled, rolling my eyes at him. I took down the bun and untwisted it. I pulled away the ponytail holder putting it on my wrist. He sneered, watching me as I ran my fingers through it, letting it hit my shoulders then fall down my back.
“That’s crazy,” Hakim exclaimed. He glanced away anxiously, suddenly watching the road, then peering everywhere. “You’re a gorgeous woman, Mandisa. So, where is your man? I get the feeling you have a stalker somewhere? Is he in the bushes? Just blink three times if you’re in danger! Is that why you’re so nervous?”
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend! I told you I just moved here,” I giggled, playfully ramming his arm. He snatched my hand and slowly pulled me closer until I could feel his next breath graze my left cheek while eyeing me. He raised his eyebrows and gazed into my eyes, making me blush. My heart began to pound in my ears so loudly I knew he heard it being so close! Hakim smiled and pulled away a bit.
“So, may I have your phone number, Mandisa? Maybe I can show you around? Could we catch a movie, or go to a concert? Why don’t you let me change your relationship status?” Hakim pleaded.
“I do not know, Hakim. You are wonderful, but my father would never allow me to date. The thought of me dating strikes fear into his heart. Besides, I think a boyfriend would distract me from my music, art, and dance studies. I’d want to spend too much time with him,” I grumbled.
I leaned forward, putting my head in my hands. There was no way that it would work. I wanted a friend, but a BOY would send my father over the top. Though he and Mami were separated, he would show up and chase Hakim away. By the time Daddy’s done, Hakim would never want to speak to me again. It would be so agonizing to get my hopes up.
“You said you lived here with your mother. Don’t you think it’s alright to have an associate that’s a man, Mandisa?” Hakim questioned. “You can have a friend, can’t you?”
“Mami wants me to make friends! I don’t have many,” I admitted staring at his concerned sad eyes.
“Me either. I have two real friends and a crazy little brother. But if you want, I can be your friend, Mandisa? You’re new here. You need someone you can trust to show you around town, don’t you?” He posed, watching me with irritated eyes.
I glanced over at the driveway as Mami’s car pulled in. She blew the horn. I got up and headed over to help her get out.
“Merci beaucoup, Queen. Ooh, my back is on fire,” she declared, holding her belly, getting out of the car. I opened the back and grabbed a few bags. Hakim seized them from me. Mami didn’t waste a second when she saw Hakim. “Bonjour! I’m sorry. I don’t believe we’ve met?”
“Hello, my name is Hakim,” He said to Mami, smiling as he took the groceries away from me. Hakim’s face exploded talking to my mother. He was so happy it made me jealous. “You must be Mandisa’s mother? I can see that beauty runs in the family. You look ready to bless the world with another beautiful child. May I help you inside?”
“Oui, oui, Hakim. It’s so nice to meet such a sweet young man,” Mami expressed him. She chuckled as she brushed her belly. While waddling sluggishly to the steps, Mami raised her eyebrows quickly. I assisted her upstairs, and she undid the door for Hakim. “He’s so gorgeous and sweet!”
“I know,” I quietly said. I held the door open. Hakim got Mami’s attention first. She had pointed him out everywhere we went. Mami was trying to get me to say hello for a reason. I was happy I listened. He was charming.
“Hakim, keep going straight ahead,” Mami said, deliberately later with me squeezing her arm.
Hakim was looking around at all the pictures and paintings adorning the walls. Mami loved to display and decorate with all the art she could find. Hakim seemed distracted by all the portraits, sculptures, and collectibles everywhere. I tapped his shoulder when I passed him in the den as we headed into the kitchen. He snapped back to reality and followed us.
“Hakim, do you attend school?” Mami summoned him and sat at the table.
“Yes, Mam. I’ll be a senior at Washington Carver Private Academy this year,” Hakim replied, entering the kitchen with the groceries.
“Queen, you’re attending Carver as well,” Mami inserted. “What a coincidence! Do you play soccer? I know I have seen you running every day, Hakim. You’re in wonderful shape!”
“Yes, Mam, I’ve been playing for about six years now. I run track and field, and I head the National Honor Society. I’ve been studying and training my body with martial arts since I was six. I have a few other hobbies,” He gushed at Mami with a shy grin. Hakim sat the grocery bags on the counter.
“That is very impressive, Hakim,” Mami notified him, cheery with bright eyes feeling Amani. She became distracted as my sister began moving. I left, putting the food away, still listening to the conversation. “You’re very well-rounded. So you’re going to college, I take it?”
“Oh yes, I’ve already taken enough A.P. classes to qualify me as a second-year once I graduate high school, Mrs. King,” Hakim answered proudly. I couldn’t believe how absolutely perfect Hakim seemed. He was intelligent, sweet, athletic, and so very handsome in every way. He glanced over at me, winking as he handed me the eggs. “I know I’m a nerd…I’m just sort of cute…right? I get that a lot.”
“Are you serious? Hakim, you are a sexy chocolate drop.” Mami giggled, blushing up from her seat, observing Hakim’s reaction to her interview. “What’s your major?”
“Pre-law, economics, business, and African-American studies,” Hakim answered. “I hope to open my own legal practice someday, Mrs. King. I’ve always been a debater, so I decided to become a defense attorney. My grandparents always say I should get paid for arguing and yelling at someone else besides my little brother, Lionel.”
“Do you have a girlfriend, Hakim?” Mami continued drilling him.
“No, but I would love to have one if she was as sweet as your daughter, Mrs. King,” Hakim confessed to Mami, embarrassing me. I blushed as he made eye contact with me. He smiled and looked at Mami again as she spoke.
“Boyfriend?” She analyzed. Her face was dead serious.
“No!” Hakim snickered. “I have a few homeboys but not that type of party. I love women! I’ve just never had a girlfriend.”
“So, you’re a virgin like Queen?” Mami persisted, her eyes squinting, but her smile faded from sight.
“You’re funny, Mrs. King!” Hakim laughed, wiping a tear from his eye removing his glasses.
“No, Hakim, I’m serious! Answer the question,” Mami grilled him.
“Um…no, I’m not a virgin, Mrs. King. I’m no longer sexually active, though. I used to be very wild when I was younger, running the streets. But it got ancient after years of playing the field.
“I’ve never met a girl like your daughter, Mrs. King. No woman has ever held my attention very long,” Hakim confessed. He put his hand on the table, watching Mami. “Mandisa’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life. The moment I laid my eyes on her, I thought I must be dreaming. I don’t believe in Heaven. But a real-life angel was standing right in front of me. It scared me until she spoke to me. I thought I got hit by a car and was dead.”
“I like you, Hakim. You’re sweet, you like to talk, you’re honest and respectable,” Mami tittered suddenly, making me jump. She stood up and touched his arm as she passed him. Hakim smiled at her appearing to relax a bit. Mami grabbed a skillet and gazed back at him, “Finding good people to be friends with Mandisa is no easy task. Her father is very selective of whom she may socialize”.
“He doesn’t need to know all the details. I just want my daughter to have some fun and make some nice friends. She needs to be around people her own age, Hakim. Longview is very unfamiliar to us, but I hope you can show her around? School is going to be new for Queen. She’s been home tutored for her entire life.”
I suddenly felt like I was a burden to my mother. I only had one real friend, and she was so special to me, but when daddy met her, he told me to stop hanging around her. He said she was trying to change me into an American girl. I didn’t like that at all. My father didn’t want me doing much of anything involving other people. So it was only Mami and me, along with all my private instructors. I was kept away from public schools and raised with the best of everything money could buy. But I was never happy alone, and Mami had to give up her career to raise me.
I was premature, weak, and my heart never developed correctly as I grew up. I need a transplant, and we all know it, but we can’t be near Daddy. It’s best to hide than endure more of his torture. I know that my father is overprotective of me because nothing could fix the birth defect. But he treats everyone like he hates them for looking at me. He drinks when he’s home and fights with Mami about how Amani will be raised as well. Daddy hasn’t decided if I’m going to be attending college after this year. My prognosis isn’t good, so I don’t complain or start more problems. But it seems that no matter what I do or where we go, I always make him angry.
I’m pessimistic about things getting better with Mami close to delivering my sister and separating from Daddy. Who knows how long before he finds us and takes us back? It seems there’s nowhere Mami can go to get away from him. Daddy always finds us, lies, begs, and showers her with gifts and affection. Mami always goes back, and things get worse. I’ve stopped expecting something to happen. I accept whatever is presented. I only want to live long enough to see Amani healthy and happy. Then I don’t care what happens to me. I can’t be near my father anymore.
I handed the eggs to my mother, struggling not to look at Hakim. I’m sure her little snooping session must have discouraged him somewhat by now. I was glad that he didn’t use those beautiful legs to run out of the house.
“I’m thrilled that you think I’m worthy of Mandisa’s friendship, Mrs. King. It means a lot to me. Can I help with anything?” Hakim offered to help at the stove.
“No, Cheri, I can handle this part. Queen, show Hakim where he can wash up. You will stay for breakfast, won’t you?” Mami invited him, smiling sweetly.
“I’d love to stay, Mrs. King! I knew the moment that I saw you that you were going to offer. I’d be a fool not to try something,” Hakim accepted, gawking at her. Then he quickly glared, “Wait? Queen? What’s that about?”
Mami giggled, “Alex Haley, who is my favorite author, has a movie called Queen. I watched it when I was pregnant with Mandisa. So when she was born, I took one look at her, and she became my little Queen. It just stuck. She also has that fresh skin like Halle Berry. That’s why I nicknamed her Queen.”
“I’ve seen the movie before. I can see a small resemblance. But Mandisa has a distinctive beauty. That’s even lovelier. It’s rare for women these days to not rely on chemicals and artificial enhancements. I’ve never adored anything fake, but I can’t hate anyone that does. That’s what they have to live with and wake up to in the morning,” Hakim chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. He was admiring my Mami’s hair and nails the same as he did mine outside.
“So, you’re a naturalist?” Mami requested, grinning over at Hakim.
“I would say I am a realist. I work out, don’t eat red meat, lie unless it spares the right feelings, respect people until the line gets crossed, and never trust what the media or politicians say. I like to watch people. I’m really ashamed of the way black people behave in the public eye, but you can’t stop people from being themselves, right?” Hakim replied with a ring of enlightenment that made me nod.
“Oui,” I agreed, smiling at Hakim. “People have to make up their own mind about whom or what they become on the inside and out.”
“We’re not from around here, so we get looks sometimes. We do not eat red meat either, mostly seafood, poultry, and soy. Nor do we attend church services. I allow my daughter to make her own religious choices. I used to be a Jehovah’s Witness because I preferred home services with family and friends,” Mami explained with a tone of relief.
“That’s a very admirable thing, Mrs. King. I’m not really sure I know what I believe. My family members are all Christians, but they haven’t attended services since we moved to Texas from Georgia. No one has set foot inside of a church since my parents died. I used to believe.
“My mother was a devout Christian, but losing her shook us up. My grandparents are always talking about the Lord,” Hakim groaned, scratching his forehead leaning backward.
“That’s so terrible, losing both parents, Hakim. Are you alright?” Mami sighed as she touched his shoulder.
“I’m fine, Mrs. King. It happened when I was nine. We all took it pretty hard. My little brother, Lionel, he was seven at the time. I think he took it the hardest. He started being bad, fighting all the time, and getting in trouble at school. He’s 15, doing a little better, but he’s still terrible,” Hakim stated, shaking his head. “I love my brother, don’t get me wrong, that’s family. But he’s wild, he’s violent, his mouth is as foul and loud as the day is long. He’s brilliant, has an amazing voice, can dance, and is a really gifted artist. Lionel can sketch some of the craziest stuff I’ve ever seen.”
Hakim’s eyes drifted to the living area, adding, “But those paintings you have in the den, that’s intense art! Who did those? I’ve never seen anything like that anywhere.”
“Queen painted all those pictures on the walls everywhere in the house. All of those are her works except the family pictures,” Mami answered, checking the heat.
He wrinkled his lovely eyebrows, got up, and walked into the den. Hakim pointed to the painting of a river of faces over the sofa. “Word? You painted this?!” Hakim asked, staring at the picture. I followed him into the den and stood close by. He glanced down at me as I nodded.
“I painted it after we moved from Philadelphia. We only stayed there for a few weeks during the summer. I saw so many black people there. It was the first time I lived in America. I had never seen so many people in different colors, shapes, heights, and from various backgrounds. It was so inspiring to me. I couldn’t help myself,” I explained, admiring the shades and tints of brown on black.
“This one?” Hakim asked while pointing to the beautiful black ballerina next to the first painting. She was surrounded by beautiful multi-colored roses. But there was darkness everywhere and eyes watching her. She had a look of sad confusion on her face crying as she looked in the mirror—a different woman in the reflection staring back at her with a frown and glowing green eyes.
“I really can’t explain it. That’s how I feel sometimes. I was a dancer for years. It made me feel so special to be on stage in the spotlight, but I was not allowed to perform once I grew older. If I don’t paint, dance, or play music, I wouldn’t know who I am as a person. A lot of times, I’m not sure who I see when I look in the mirror,” I confessed, examining her miserably beautiful face in the painting. I didn’t know if this girl was me. However, it felt like it could be me one day.
His eyebrows wrinkled together as his eyes grew wider by the second analyzing the last portrait.
The image of a beautiful girl wearing a black and white dress standing over a gorgeous landscape scene in the painting might disturb him like it terrified me. The beautiful hills and trees below, the night sky above, and she held out her arms with her eyes closed.
I remembered how I felt when I started it. I was so upset. My father and I had an argument about a boy that I didn’t even know. The boy said hello, then without warning, my father screamed at him and frightened him away. Afterward, he badgered me in the middle of the mall parking lot. I took it as a lesson to stay away from men. I was so depressed after he yelled at me, I couldn’t speak without coming to tears.
“Why is she going to jump?” Hakim probed with the most pitiful frown. He put his glasses on, carefully moving closer to the painting.
“No one’s ever asked that. Most see the gorgeous surroundings, the trees below, and they kind of overlook the subject. Those that notice the woman think she’s rejoicing or enjoying the breeze. But she’s about to leap to her death.
“Speaking as the artist, the subject is not happy being tormented by her skin and living in her prison. She’s alone, her heart is aching, and she wants to fly away. Maybe the girl is afraid of the dark and being alone? It looks like she thinks death might be peaceful,” I sighed and touched her fearful face.
“The idea of there being beauty in death below is more acceptable than the harsh reality of her own sad existence,” Hakim thought, stroking her clothing. “She’s so beautiful but so sad.”
Hakim glanced over at me from the painting. I avoided eye contact touching some of Mami’s angels. I didn’t like to discuss sad things, so I evaded talking too much. Especially anything that involved my father. That was a subject that I detested.
“What are you working on now?” Hakim questioned, poking me in the wing then playfully fondling one of my curls on my shoulder.
“I’ll show you,” I replied, smiling. I led Hakim down a hall and upstairs behind the kitchen. He trailed silently, seeing more of my sketches and pictures along the decorated walls. As I opened my bedroom window and went inside, I realized I had forgotten to air out the paint fumes earlier. It wasn’t really that bad, but the oil paints I used did have a traceable odor. Hakim didn’t seem to mind. He surveyed my bedroom in silence, pleased.
My art things were all in the far corner near the back window. Next to it was my stool; on the art table were some closed supplies, glasses with brushes soaking, and a sketch pad. On the easel was a painting of a gorgeous sunrise over a beach scene, a handsome brown boy was running along the sand, his long dreadlocks were flowing in the breeze, and a girl was sitting in the foreground watching him as he ran into the distance. Hakim came closer to the painting and went crazy!
“That’s me?!” He asked suddenly as he leaned closer. “Wow, look at the detail of the hair!”
“It is the lion’s share of what I see when you run by, Hakim,” I giggled as I put a brush into the cleaning solution. “I’ve seen you fly by every day for a week. You’ve never noticed me until Mami talked me into following you today.”
Hakim stared at the girl’s face. She wore a lovely shy smile gazing at him.
“He was just so busy looking ahead. If he had only stopped, he would feel like I feel right now, Mandisa,” Hakim alerted me.
He stared into my eyes and explored around more. Next, he picked up one of my photographs on my nightstand near my bed. It was a picture of me when I was four years old in a ballet tutu with Mami. Finally, he touched one of my stuffed animals, a lion cub that sat on my bed.
“I have a weakness for wildcats,” I informed him. Then, I showed him my lion cubs and panthers.
“My mother was a Black Panther. I can dig it!” Hakim laughed, touching my bed linens. “Red and gold, huh? Red’s my favorite color besides black. But gold looks good with it, too.”
I nodded, agreeing as I opened my candy dish and put a piece of cherry candy in my mouth. Hakim came close to me. His eyes looked into mine as he stood in front of me. My heart started racing, and I blushed deeply.
“May I have a piece of your candy, Mandisa?” He asked, putting his hand over mine still on the lid.
“Of course, Hakim,” I replied, looking at his hand as it touched mine. He opened the lid, grabbed a piece, and tucked it into his pocket for later. Then he put the top back in place while still keeping my hand.
He saw my cell phone on the dresser near the candy dish and grabbed it. He dialed in a number, and I heard his ringtone, making me giggle, “A Tribe Called Quest, Bonita Applebum.”
“What?!” Hakim asked, smiling as he sat down my phone and saved my number in his.
“I gotta put you on?” I teased him as he looked at me, impressed.
“Oh, you know about my boys, A Tribe Called Quest?” Hakim laughed.
“I’m a music lover. I like good music. Everything that gets played on the radio is not good music. Mami says I have an old soul because I like her kind of music. I love Prince, Stevie Wonder, Michael Jackson, Marvin Gaye, and The Roots,” I tried to explain as I rolled the candy around in my mouth.
“What about hip-hop?” Hakim quizzed me, raising his eyebrow suspiciously.
“I like Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Ludacris, 2 Pac, B.I.G., Jay-Z, Common, Mos Def, Dead Prez, Talib Kwali, and lots more,” I recalled as many as I could. “But I listen to all kinds of music: Rock, Disco, Country, World Music, and lots of Classical….”
“Keep going. I haven’t heard anything I don’t like yet,” Hakim sighed. He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. His lips were so soft and gentle that I wanted to scream. Suddenly I realized I had him alone in my room!
I gulped, still struggling to hold the remaining bite of candy in my cheek but nearly choked when his lips caressed my skin. He patted me on the back and chuckled apprehensively.
“Are you okay? I wasn’t trying to make you do that,” Hakim stated with a flashy grin.
“I’m fine!” I snickered, wiping a tear from my eye. “I totally disregarded it was there.”
Hakim stared at me for a moment, nonetheless uneasy. I was so embarrassed. My face must have been redder than my lips from eating the candy. Finally, Hakim sneered at me and retook my hand, “You sure you’re okay, Queen?”
I lingered when I heard him call me that. He stared at me and looked genuinely worried for me. I just nodded and smiled.
“You said that you love Prince? Friday night, they’re showing a double feature at the old movie theater: Purple Rain and Under The Cherry Moon,” Hakim chuckled finally as he nudged me in the arm, teasingly. Glancing at my tee-shirt and yoga pants, you knew I loved Prince! “You want to go with me, Mandisa?”
My beam must have been enormous as the notion made my face light up. Hakim nodded, egging me on with his attractive grin, but my spirits began tumbling again. This was not going to happen! Daddy would ruin anything if he showed up.
I did not want to hurt his feelings. Hakim was so kind to me. But I knew that nothing would come of me saying yes.
“Mami should be finished cooking. Let me show you the restroom so you can wash up? After that, you have to eat with us. Mami won’t take no for an answer. She loves entertaining guests,” I reacted, avoiding the subject, and left for the door.
Hakim tugged my hand; I had neglected he was still grasping it. He leisurely hauled me backward, groaning, “Mandisa, I’m not leaving your house until you tell me yes. I won’t take no for an answer, either. I’m not going to hurt you or betray your sweet nature.
“I just want to spend my extra time with you. Can I put in my application for the position of a full-time fanatic, please? Let me change your mind about the whole boyfriend idea?
“Everything that I told your mother I meant. I’ve never wanted to get to know a woman as desperately as I wish for you. Being here with you is the sweetest dream I’ve ever had. So, please, don’t make me wake up, not yet…?”
“Hakim,” I sighed, gently embarrassed. He suddenly glanced down into my eyes with an incredible expression. His beautiful eyes sparkled down at me, and Hakim blushed.
“Repeat my name, Queen. Say it just like that,” Hakim uttered, placing my hand over his heart. “Say, Hakim, like before…”
My heart was already thumping in my throat. I held my breath as I felt the tightness of Hakim’s chest through his compression shirt. He shut his eyes and beamed as I said his name sweetly again, “Hakim...”
“Did you feel that, Mandisa?” He demanded. I felt his heart speeding up as he grew excited. He kept his eyes closed and put his hand over mine. “The heart doesn’t lie, Queen. My heart wants you.”
“My father would never approve of me dating anyone, Hakim,” I groaned, rattling my head. Hakim opened his sweet brown eyes and slowly exhaled. His fingers trembled, tracing mine as he tilted his head back, thinking.
“What if your mother said yes, and we don’t worry about Daddy until the time comes?” Hakim suggested with elevated eyebrows.
“I can’t lie to my dad, Hakim!” I told him nervously, afraid.
“I didn’t say lie. I said we don’t worry about telling your father until the time comes,” Hakim said, grinning back viciously. “What Daddy doesn’t know what hurt him… Mami likes me, Queen.”
“That’s wrong, Hakim! You don’t know my father. He’s a crazy white man with one hell of a temper,” I cautioned him honestly. Hakim had no idea how terrifying Daddy could be once he was furious. He was like a fire-breathing dragon hurling out slurs. It upset me to think that Daddy would hurt Hakim or anyone for just speaking to me. “He is a monster.”
“So, you’re going to just sit there and watch that sexy brown boy run off into the sunset?” Hakim asked, frowning. I nodded in defeat. I didn’t want to imagine the things he would say or do to any of us. Daddy had his ways; I couldn’t go against him. It could mean him hurting Mami or Amani to get his way in the end. As long as my sister and mother were safe, I’d be fine no matter what he did to me. But I couldn’t involve Hakim. Mami wanted me to have a friend to cheer me up, like in Phili. But Daddy ruined that too. “Mandisa, seriously, you’re that terrified of your own father.”
“He’s running into the sunrise because he’s been with her on the beach all night,” I informed him, smiling at the painting. I was done talking and thinking about that man. He made me so upset sometimes I would cry and could not stop. But, I was enjoying the day with Hakim. “Memories can be great. Even if they are just in fantasy land, I paint them.”
“Is that right?” Hakim asked, coming closer to me. He took both of my hands in his. “I’m standing right here, Mandisa. That boy is right here with you now. He wants you. I want you!”
Hakim kissed my lips! It surprised me how fast it happened; he held me close to his warm solid body as his lips tasted mine. A huff of breath touched my face as his tongue glided across my bottom lip. I’d never been kissed before, though I had dreamed about it a million times. His hands caressed my back before I felt his fingers move my hips, squeezing. I exhaled and wrenched away. Hakim had a desperate expression on his face, staring down licking his lips. Finally, he held up his hands in surrender.
“Mandisa, I want you to fall in love with me so I can shower you with all the affection I’ve been holding inside. I know I can make you love me if you just give me a try, Queen, please?” He begged me, his eyes never leaving mine.
I was so weak from the kiss, I was entranced by his words as I concurred involuntarily. Hakim leered as he stroked my cheek. It was the magnificent grin that dazzled me at the park.
“Only if my mother agrees. If she says no, then I can’t, Hakim,” I warned him. My heart even now prancing as I felt my lips. Hakim nodded at me smiling. He got another look at the painting but glanced out of my bedroom window.
“Oh shit!” He snickered abruptly. He realized he had sworn and hid his mouth, chuckling to himself. I gaped at him, puzzled. “I’m sorry, Mandisa.”
“What is it?” I worried, seeking to hold in my cackle at his embarrassment.
“I can see my house from here! There’s my backyard right there!” Hakim hooted, pointing to the house directly behind us. I had noticed it before, but the flowers and vines over the fence made it hard to see from the street. Sometimes I could see a sweet old couple working in the garden in the evenings out my window. Our gates were linking, making me smile at the irony.
“I think I’ve seen your grandparents out there, Hakim. Sometimes there’s a woman in the garden and a man grilling,” I giggled, nudging his shoulder.
“Yeah, those are my grandparents. Granddad thinks he’s Martha Stewart. He was supposed to be the gardener, but Grandma Sophie ends up doing all the work. He loves to barbeque! He even fires that grill up in the middle of winter,” Hakim laughed.
“They look happy together,” I reported to Hakim, grinning.
“Oh yeah, they’re crazy about each other. My G.D. is an asshole most of the time. But Grandma Sophie is the sweetest woman on Earth. I’ll have to invite you over one day. They’ll love you. I’ve never brought a girl home. It might give G.D. a heart attack,” Hakim snorted. He gnawed his bottom lip as he gazed at me over the top of his frames with adorable puppy eyes.
“We’d better get out of here before Mami thinks something is going on between us. I’m not trying to upset her. It’s too soon for her to go into labor. She’s a high-risk pregnancy because of her age,” I warned him. I departed for the door. He chased me lightly and closed my bedroom door.
