One Safe Place (27 page)

There was a strange look on Psalms' face as he was contemplating. What would his mother think, or say, about him bringing home a bride?

He passed through those thoughts as fast as he could. He had already let emotions get in the way tonight. “You and me, and most men, want our daughters to be pretty, successful, and to find husbands so they can run off and have pretty kids. All so we can say, ‘Look at my daughter.' A woman never wants her daughter going through the hardships she had to, and may still be going through.

“A woman wants her daughter to believe in herself and never base her worth on what a man thinks. Ask a man does he believe in that and he'll say yes, but only when brought to his attention.

“In a man, a woman may want more, but she bends and fits in to a man's way of thinking more than we as men rethink and bend. As men, we don't flow as easy in to reshaping or changing for the love of a woman. Many women, all they know is how to love, and
not how to defend their souls. And they shouldn't have to. But as the world turns, men want to control everything even when it makes no sense.”

Mintfurd honed in. “Man wants to control even the mongoose, even though the mongoose kills the snake that would kill a man.”

“Yeah, that's about right, and women are always in a fight to be what God intended them to be—lovers of men's souls, despite a man's shortcomings.

“You've heard women say, ‘I wish a man would love me as I'd love him.' Even when a woman doesn't give as much as she thinks she has, it's still that's all that matters.”

Psalms got up from the table and went over to a 1960s Magnavox stereo floor cabinet. He lifted the top and inside was a mix of old and new electronics. He pushed a button, and “Days Like This” by Kenny Lattimore played.

A woman across the room popped her finger and bopped her head and pointed toward Psalms. Seeing his old high school classmate, he walked over to the table and had a short conversation with her. Officer CC is what most called her. Her perfect black skin, tall statuesque figure, and sensual, sauntering walk snapped many heads out of place. She was a black policewoman who rolled in her own squad car before many policewomen did. She could handle most men with just a stare that said, “Try me.” She had the Pam Grier tough and fine appearance cloned to perfection.

She and Psalms shared street information. Although she did not fully know what Psalms did, she had an idea. He had dropped off or led her to a few hand-delivered busts, and she in return, had provided information when he'd asked, with no questions. They shared some intel before he went back to his table.

Mintfurd had a question he wanted to ask before Psalms left the
table and asked when he returned. “You said even when a woman doesn't or hasn't given as much as she thinks she has, nevertheless it doesn't matter. How is that okay?” His lips went to one side.

Psalms almost finished his beer, and swirled the bottom around before he responded. “No matter what, we men don't understand what their heads and hearts believe. We have to support them without tearing apart their hearts just to prove we are right. The same God made us; He just made us different from, not less than, each other. Yeah, for sure, there are some damaged women. No matter what any man will do, there is no man who can satisfy their soul.

“This is where often the dishonest side of relationships crop up and destroy hope of having a good relationship. Now think about this before you respond. Most often, women lie for survival, and men lie for gain. So, depending on how bad one wants to survive or how bad one wants to gain, you'll find out who's the best liar. When women lie for gain, I have to say they can be rather obvious, almost like they want us to know, but men try to act as if they don't. When men lie for survival, they often get caught up in their lies, because women expect men to lie and already know the truth before a man opens his mouth.” Psalms took the last swig of his beer, and laughed.

Mintfurd took in a deep breath that several others could have used. “Man, this is a lot to take in concerning getting into and being a relationship. I'm kinda scared for many reasons, and I've heard a lot of people have mental issues, and the ugly side of their mental problems show up after you like or love the person.”

“Yeah, you're right. Some folks have mental bruising, and it affects their perception and nothing is normal for them or level in their lives.”

Psalms thought about Evita and her struggles in life, brought on
by a father who abused her. She was missing now, giving him pause to think what it could be again. His friend, Ayman, the basketball coach at East Seattle City College, and University of New Mexico college alum, had a relationship with a woman with mental issues. Suzy Q had to step in because it caused him troubles.

“Let any person who has psychological injuries, twisted sensitivities, and medicated or unmedicated issues, and put into the mix a broken heart, and castles made of sand will wash their heart out to sea. Sometimes people don't realize they are not giving as much as they think they are. Shit, even so-called normal folks come up short, and refuse to let anyone help them understand the harm they cause others.

“Now, take the woman who is deep into giving her soul to a man, well, that's one of the reasons I was pissed tonight. The woman we did some work for tonight is a good woman. Even though I should have control of my emotions when we are doing business, this woman's situation pissed me off.”

“Okay, I'm cool with you dropping some knowledge about women on me. Did you come to this all on your own?” Mintfurd laughed.

“Most of what I know came from the many conversations with my grandfather. He loved my grandmother who was blind. After she died, he had other women like Ms. Melfae and others. He was always honest with them, and gave them the choice to be in his life as he was. If they didn't want to, he still loved them and kept them in his life as friends.

“Later, when I traveled the world on assignment, I saw love in every language, and despite cultural differences, it was as my grandfather told me. Men are either honest or they're not, and women are lovers of the soul despite the good or evil in men.

“I observed and had a world view while working in Washington,
D.C. It was not all, but a lot of folks there are looking for a mate or an escort or booty-fling in that town. I did see some strong relationships endure the onslaught of dog eat dog, and the other side of the moon weirdness. The political hoopla of playboys and girls in that town—it reeks of fakeness and lies, so much so that people accept someone lying to their face.”

“That's a lot, man—that's a lot to think about for someone like me.”

The two men dropped their conversation as Phyllis Hyman's voice flowed in the room. She was singing “Hurry Up This Way Again.”

“Oh how it hurts loving someone who has someone else

So many nights I spend here all alone by myself.”

• • •

The song faded in to the instrumental version. Psalms responded to Mintfurd's last thought. “Man, it's a lot to think about no matter who you are, or where you are in life. There will always be more single people in the world, many of them telling that lie they want to be single. They lie, saying it's not worth the effort, yet let the right person smile just long enough, and they rethink their position.”

“Yeah, Velvet said that to me.”

Psalms laughed. “She kind of said the same thing to me just recently. Of course, I'm sure she said it to you much nicer than she told me, but many can't overcome some kind of hang-up. Hell, so many simply have the hardest time with the thought of being intimate with someone, so they become bitter and tear in to everybody else's less than happy home to make it worse. Single people are often like functional drunks. They go through life twisted, but seem normal. Those same people toss and turn in the bed feeling lonely whether they are twenty-eight or eighty-eight.”

“So what are you saying? Should a person be with someone just so they're not lonely?”

“Nah, dude, a person can be lonely even with a person humping them right at that moment. What I am saying is, if you're lonely, be honest. Miserable people get in the middle of other people's love affairs, and hate on everyone else's relationships. Single people should shut the hell up talking about somebody else's relationship. So many souls are depleted of a balanced insight concerning relationships, because they've ingested so much pain that they feel the need to vomit sadness upon others, so not to be alone in their lonely sickness.”

Mintfurd shook his head. “Yeah, that's scary when I hear that mess. We haven't talked about this in years, but I told you way back when that I didn't know about being in love, and having someone love me. Shit, my last girlfriend was in junior high. We're talking about almost forty years, a lifetime ago.”

Mintfurd looked out on downtown Seattle. He understood for every light flicking there was a woman nearby, but wondered where was the light that flickered for him? A man his size, six feet six inches and 400 pounds and not obese, but toned and simply immense—he was a novelty to most women. A man with a golden voice and poetic thoughts was single and lonely. He had been all his life. When he was younger and smaller, women did come his way, but he was so shy and reserved. While in college, he was introduced to paying for a woman's physical love. Mintfurd's mind and body overtook his heart's need.

Akilah brought two huge platters of food and two more beers. Three ladies came in and sat nearby. The ladies of the evening were done selling sex for the night, or perhaps they were on break and still had work to do until the break of dawn. They wanted some
attention other than from men in the streets wanting to buy them and use them. The three ladies interrupted the guys with silly jokes about how big they were, and how powerful they must be. Their attempt at flirting wasn't cute.

Akilah quickly did her hosting job and redirected the working girls to turn their attention away from Psalms and Mintfurd. Mintfurd wished more places provided that same professional care of their patrons.

Mintfurd did feel for the ladies, because even though he paid for his sexual needs with high-end expensive women, he felt the women sitting in the restaurant were no less women than those he paid a thousand a night to sleep with him. The only differences were more makeup, Macy's vs. Kmart attire, cute heels vs. old, run-down heels, and sexual mileage. He realized he was the common commodity in the equation, adding to the destruction of women who were high class, and mostly ended up low class, like the girls sitting not far away, because he paid for physical love.

Mintfurd made a change in life a nearly a year ago, and the only person he had told was Velvet. He was conflicted—the man needed the touch of a woman, but a year without having a nipple in his mouth made his dick get hard from the slightest thought of women.

• • •

Mintfurd's sexual urge raged when he woke in the morning, and when he went to bed. After a year of being without physical love, his dick would get thick and heavy in his hand even when he pulled it out to take a pee most times. His mind ventured to past sexual experiences, and the last time flashed though his cerebral streams like lightning.

The good thing about paying for sex and going through a professional
service was he could order what he wanted, and needed. What he needed was a woman who was not uncomfortable with his size. Not simply speaking of his bodily size, but his penis girth. Long, yes, but also round. Some women had a problem putting their mouth around it and sucking it for very long. That meant few women could handle his hardness going into their pussy. She had to be wet. She had to be relaxed. Her pussy had to be receptive. Many times, women jacked him off with two hands instead, but even then, it was hard work.

He told Velvet this was a problem, and she had to know for herself if it was true. Curiosity sent her legs twitching and striding to the workshop one day. “Let me see it,” she had demanded.

He had laughed, and dropped his pants. The sight of his massive thighs was a sight for science, the look in her eyes had said. Then he had dropped his boxers that could hold three men, and there it was.

“I would touch it, but that would mess up our friendship 'cause I would try to take it by hand back to the elephant you stole it from.” They'd shared an intimate laugh. When he decided to forgo having sex with call girls, Velvet would ask whether he had “fed the elephant” to check if he had fallen off the call-girl wagon. It was a little joke between them.

“PB, I've heard it said with a woman, you share and learn to grow in love with a woman, but only another man can teach you to love women. It sounds like your grandfather shared a lot about learning to love a woman. I'm gonna share something with you.

“The last time I had sex with a woman, she rode my hardness in reverse cowboy. She had her ass facing me, and I could see my dick spread her pussy as it went deep in her. Her hands were on my thighs and her ass was trembling from taking me inside her
expanding pussy. She had to go so slow descending down on my thickness. Her pussy juices ran down faster than her pussy could take my dick. When she finally took as much as she could, she leaned forward and pressed her breasts on my thighs, resting as if she had run from wild dogs. I could see my dick surrounded by her creamy pussy lips and I could see her asshole puckering and twitching. I tried to slide a finger in her ass, but my fingers are…”

“With those big-ass fingers, oh hell no. Man, you can't be a doctor and doing rectal examinations, dude. I see the size of your fingers, and I think surgery.” Psalms laughed hard, and Mintfurd chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. Anyway, once this woman adjusted to my size, her ass rose and came down working up in speed. Man, the visual from the last time keeps me horny as all get-out and lusting, wanting the bare skin of a woman curled into my body. She rode me for a long time, but suddenly she stopped and dismounted my hardness. The woman stood on the floor, and I sat up.