An Urban Drama by Roy Glenn Page B

cousin all the time, but he used to sit outside. So, one day I told my cousin to invite him in, you know, ’cause it wasn’t polite to have him waiting outside. After that he just started callin’ me. I talked to him a few times, more not to be rude than anything else, and from that he thought we were going together. Finally, I had to tell him that it wasn’t like that, and that’s when it started. He would come by the house and my moms would tell him that I wasn’t home, so he would sit outside for hours before he’d get tired and leave. At first it was funny, you know, but then I started getting worried. I told my cousin that he needed to talk to his friend, but that didn’t do any good. My father threatened him, but he wouldn’t stop.”
    “How did you get him to stop? Or is he still at it?”
    “No, silly. I finally had to call the cops. They told him he was goin’ to jail if they had to come out there again. You ever been stalked?”
    “No, not like that. I’ve had some people that didn’t take the fact that it was over too well. I’ve had to call the cops a couple of times. Had a broken window or two, but not a sustained stalker.”
    “Big as you are, you had to call the cops on some woman?”
    “Damn right. If I did anything, I mean looked at her hard and she called the police, she could say anything and they’d lock my dumb ass up. Black man ain’t got no win in court. Especially a big black man. No, Nina, I’ll call the cops at the drop of a dime.”
    By the third drink we were both pretty comfortable with one another and were enjoying each other’s company. I was really feeling Victor—or maybe it was my anger with Cedric. I don’t know. We ordered another round of drinks and I said, “Let me run something by you.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I wanna spend the night with you. I know you said you got stuff you need to do, so if you can’t, I’ll understand.”
    “But you’re not used to men telling you no.”
    I smiled. “No, I’m not.”
    “I see this.”
     
Eleven
    “I just need to stop by my house to pick up a few things. I won’t be but a minute,” I said. “You got any thing to drink at your house?”
    “Sure. I always keep a little something around the house.”
    “You smoke weed?”
    “Yes.”
    “Got any?” I asked with a smile.
    “No, but that’s no problem. I always know where to find something to smoke.”
    “I get my drink on and smoke a blunt, and it’s on. I may even dance for you.”
    We drove back to my apartment, then we swung by this spot, picked up a couple of dimes, a few blunts, and continued on to his house. I rolled a fat blunt and we smoked most of it along the way. By the time we got there, I was pretty fucked up. He told me to make myself comfortable and that he wouldn’t be gone long.
    When he got back to the house, The Best of Sade was playing. I had his living room lit with candles and had changed into a sheer, black robe with a black teddy underneath. I had rolled another blunt, had two glasses and the bottle waiting. I was asleep on the couch and didn’t hear him when he came in.
    Like Prince Charming, he kissed me softly on the cheek and I woke up. We talked for a while and then “No Ordinary Love” started to play. I smiled and said, “Let me show you something.” I stood up and began to dance for him. My movements were slow and seductive, and I could tell he was loving every minute of it. I ran my fingers through my hair and down my body. I pulled down my teddy just enough to reveal a hint of nipple. I danced my way close to him—close enough for him to touch. As he reached for me, I turned around and bent over.
    He stood and started to move in unison with me. I stopped and turned to face him. “No, baby. You sit down and relax. This is my show.”
    He gladly obeyed my instructions and sat quietly, watching each movement of my body in anticipation of what was to come. I smiled and eased the robe off my shoulders, then began to tease