The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) (15 page)

“I know, and as soon as I said it, I knew I had messed up. She started screaming and crying, and I didn’t know what to do. I just let her get it all out, and it seemed to work for a second or two, and then she started right back up again.”

“You did the best thing; I’ll take care of her as soon as she arrives.”

“Thanks, Charlotte.”

“No problem,” she hung up. I went to the bathroom and scrubbed my hands and arms before finding some clothes to throw on. I couldn’t get the beautiful woman or her smell out of my head. I went back to the wall phone and dialed the station again. I wanted to make sure she made it to the Ranger’s Station.

“Ranger’s Station.”

“Charlotte, this is Lil Sampson again. Did the lady make it in yet?”

“Oh, Lil Samson, yes, she’s here. Would you like to speak with her?

“Yes, please,” I rushed into the receiver. I wanted to talk with her and tell her I was sorry and that I wasn’t a racist.

“Okay then,” Charlotte said in a little voice like she was talking to a child. “Honey, he would like to speak with you.”

“I gotta go now. Thank you again so much for all your help,” I heard her sweet voice say. I could still smell her in my nose and I never wanted to lose that scent.

“Oh, she’s still a little upset; she just walked out the door.”

“Shit!” I yelled.

“I told her you were a good person and that you didn’t mean how it came out.”

“What did she say, Charlotte?” I asked.

“Well, she started crying some more, and then she finally calmed down.”

I punched the wall and the noise in the house all fell silent. “Fuck,” I yelled.

“Lil Sampson, she’s alright; just a little shaken up, but she’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that,” I punched the wall again. I heard the front door open, but I didn’t turn around to see who left or who came in.

“Well, what is it?”

“Her, I want to talk to her.” I knew what I just said sounded so cryptic. “I need to apologize to her,” I corrected.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry about that. I told her you didn’t mean it.”

“No, I need to tell her, and I need to apologize to her myself.”

There was silence on the phone and I was just about to hang up.

“I have her number if you want it,” Charlotte whispered into the phone.

“What?”

“Her name is Cricket Hooper and she works for Starbucks Corporate Office in Seattle,” Charlotte whispered again.

“Charlotte, can I have her number?” I asked her desperately. I turned around to get a pen and paper when my eyes fell upon a pair of black eyes staring back at me. I walked around Mom and got a pen and a piece of mail to write on. Charlotte gave me her number and I repeated it back to her.

“Yes, that’s it; but Lil Sampson…give her some time to cool off. She was very upset and we women need time to calm down.”

“Okay, time, I know,” I told her in my desperate cryptic voice again.

“Now, you take care.”

“You too.”

I called Kanoke’s cousin, Poke. He was one of the reservation’s handy men. I told him I needed him to go to Sal Greene’s house and fix or replace his knocked down mailbox. Poke said he would go check it out and let me know what’s up. I hung up with him and called Sal immediately.

“Who the hell is this?” was Sal’s greeting.

“Sal, I’m sending someone over to fix your mailbox.”

“What the hell happened to it?”

“Some out-of-towner was run off the road and mowed it down.”

“Must have been a woman?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice tits?”

“Someone will be over there in about an hour.”

“You know her?”

“No.”

“Why are you worried about it then?” he asked.

“Someone will be over to fix it today.”

“Well, I might just called the Ranger and let him know. That mailbox is beat the hell up; I know it won’t ever work right again.”

“Sal, what do you want?” I asked.

“I want a new damn mailbox and one of them fancy screen doors like JJ got.”

I couldn’t believe this shit; this old fuck was trying to get over. Sal had never been worth a damn his whole life. He reminded me of Big Samson. But Sal at least kept a job; something Big Samson could never do.

“Alright, Sal,” I sighed and hung up the line. I called Poke back and told him we needed to replace it no matter if it was fixable or not, and we needed to put a weather screen door on Sal’s main door. He said it would take him a few hours to get down to the hardware surplus store and back, but he assured me it would be done today.

I hung the phone up and went straight to my bedroom to get my phone off the charger. I sat down on my new bed, and it felt good. I added Cricket’s name and number to my contacts. I made sure it was saved and then relaxed a little. I took in a deep breath and I could still smell her. She must live in Seattle because she works there for that coffee company. Cricket…her name was Cricket and she worked with Coffee. We were three hours from Seattle, and like Charlotte had told me, she was very upset. I would give her time to get home and settled in before I called her to apologize.

“What are you doing?” Mom asked me from the doorway.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“Why did you call Charlotte?”

“I was checking on that lady,” I told her.

“I thought she was a woman?”

“She is.”

“You just called her a lady,” Mom accused.

“What?’

“At first you said she was a woman, but now she’s a lady,” she said in a menacing tone.

“What’s the damn difference?” I asked her, fully annoyed now.

“A woman is simply a female; but a lady is feminine and sophisticated,” she said.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” I got up and went to my closet. I pulled out a duffle and started putting clothes in it.”

“Where are you going?”

“Mom, I told you I live in the city now. It’s easier for me to be there this season.”

“Well, what about the guys?”

“They know they can stay with me. I have a three-bedroom apartment. There’s plenty of room for them.”

“Elle’s coming by with the baby.”

“Goddamn it, Mom!” I yelled. I threw the last sweater in the duffle and went to the drawer for underwear and socks. I didn’t know if I could get into my apartment or not. I decided to take some regular clothes since the guys would be with me, and I didn’t want to hear their mouths about my new clothes. I zipped the bag back up and yanked my charger and phone cradle from the nightstand. I folded the piece of mail with Cricket’s number on it and pushed it down into my pocket.

“I’m sorry, but she wants to see you.”

“I don’t want to see her! You do remember that she and your daughter got into a fist fight; right?” I yelled as I grabbed my jacket and a fedora. I walked past her and into the kitchen. I got two hair ties from the kitchen table and twisted my hair up with them before putting the fedora on.

“Patty isn’t mad at her anymore; they’ve actually made up. And when are you coming back?” she whined.

“Next week,” I snapped. I picked up the duffle bag and my jacket and stepped into my polo boots.

“If you guys are coming with me to the city, let’s go,” I told them as I walked out the front door. There was shuffling behind me as I walked to the truck. I opened the back and put my things in.

“I feel like I don’t even know my own son anymore,” Mom cried out behind me. I shut the trunk, and Kanoke and Sheen climbed into the truck.

“Mom, what are you talking about?” I walked back over to the front door of the house.

“You…you’re changing and I don’t like it,” she told me.

“Why not?”

“Because I just don’t,” she sniffled. I gave her a big grin and she turned her back on me.

“Moommm,” I drew out in a deep breath.

“Stop it. I’m not in the mood to laugh,” she protested. I walked around her so we were face to face. She wouldn’t look at me; just turned her head and stared at the front door. I kicked her legs from under her and caught her in my arms. She squeaked and started squealing in laughter.

“Put me down, Lil Sampson,” she laughed.

“Are you going to stop being weird?” I asked her. She nodded, and then I kissed her forehead and set her back down. I walked away from her to the truck. I turned around and she was staring at me.

“I promise I won’t grow into an old man before I come back.”

“You better not,” she waved us off and we headed for the ferry. When we got to Seattle, we went to Anthony’s Fish Bar. We all ordered seafood tacos -- Anthony had the best tacos. Sheen drank too much; as usual. He kept calling one of his exes. Every time she hung up on him, he’d call her right back.

“Man, let it go. She’s married,” Kanoke said.

“She’s getting a divorce,” he blurted out too loudly.

“They always say that man,” Kanoke said.

“She loves me. She said she does.”

“From my own personal experience, if it hurts you, it isn’t love. And Sheen, you’re hurting right now so it can’t be love,” I told him.

“Fuck you and fuck you. You’re just jealous. I got a girl who loves me, and you guys ain’t got shit,” he hiccupped.

“I’d rather have shit than what you’re going through,” I told him as I took another drink of my coke.

“Hi, guys,” a busty redhead greeted us. I nodded, and Kanoke turned around to get the full view. Sheen was just staring down at his phone in one hand and cupping a beer in the other.

“How about you guys buy us a drink?”

I stood to my feet then. I was full and I was ready to go. “I’m out. You guys alright to get to the apartment?” I asked. I gave them the address to Nolo. I had called on our way down and was told there would be someone at the front desk around the clock. I’d been calling and texting Zedd ever since we got off the ferry. He finally texted me back and said he would text me shortly with the time and a good place for us to meet. I had to speak with him ASAP. Kanoke nodded and patted Sheen on the back.

“You want to have some fun, or are you going to cry in your beer all night?” the red head asked him.

“Fun,” he whined out like a child. I laughed and drank the last of my coke. I pulled my jacket from the back of the chair and slid an arm in it.

“So, where you going, big guy?” a brunette asked me, standing right next to another brunette who had the identical same face she had. They were twins and they both looked willing and ready.

“I’m heading out; but my friends here will be good company.”

“But we want to hang out with you, big boy,” the talking brunette slid her arm around the inside of my jacket and tickled me. My other arm wasn’t all the way in the other sleeve when I jerked from her touch and the tickle. I gripped her wrist a little too hard and let go immediately when she winced from the pain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I don’t like to be tickled,” I explained.

“Who doesn’t like to be tickled?” she asked.

“I don’t.” I had my jacket on all the way now and smoothed down the collar. The silent brunette moved in and pressed her body right up against me.

“So, how’s about that drink?” she said seductively. Her breath advised me that she had already been drinking and probably had enough.

“Next round of drinks will be on me,” I assured them.

“Now that’s what we’re talking about,” the not so silent brunette said. They sat down at our table and I went searching for the waitress. I paid our table’s bill and gave her a hundred for the next round.

After I left, I drove around the city a bit thinking about her. I looked at the radio screen and pulled out my phone. Zedd had texted me and I’d missed it. He wanted me to meet him at Tini Bigs in twenty minutes.

When I arrived at the lounge, I went straight to Zedd’s table. He was already sitting there with a drink waiting for me.

“Sprite with lime,” he told me nodding at the drink. I removed my jacket and sat down across from him. He looked me over and I knew he didn’t approve of my t-shirt and jeans. I did wear a black and brown Hublot watch.

“You said you met someone, and I take it she’s not a normal someone or you wouldn’t have hounded me down on our weekend off. Who is she?” he asked me, pulling his little green book out.

“Cricket Hooper.”

He wrote in his book. “What does she do?”

“She works for a coffee company.”

“Which one, Seattle’s Best or Starbucks?”

“Starbucks.”

“Starbucks, the only thing there worth talking about is their Rwanda Blue Bourbon and you can’t even purchase that now. It’s from Gatare and Karengara, Rwanda. The last I checked you could order it, but it’s very hard to get.”

“Zedd please, I don’t want to talk coffee right now.”

“Well, Mr. Samson, you’re the one who brought the subject up.”