Ty

 

Ty rode the bus to Cheddar’s apartment in Euclid Court to pick up his package for the morning delivery. Cheddar had texted and told him they had a new customer and it was important that the package be delivered on time. He got off at Sterling Street and headed north. One hand tightly clutched the leather strap of his book bag and the other was tucked into his jacket pocket, his warm fingers resting over cold steel. There was little foot traffic during this time of day, only elderly folk taking leisurely walks, women pushing strollers, delinquents skipping school, and Ty kept his eyes on them all. No one in these neighborhoods was innocent.

“Only trust a few and be wary of most,” his father had told him repeatedly.

A person had to earn Ty’s trust and that wasn’t easy to do. Call it hard lessons learned over many years. He kept his head up, his long legs covering the distance fast. He didn’t like Cheddar’s neighborhood, there was one way in, one way out and Ty hated limited options. Slowing just a bit, he felt before he heard the rumble of a powerful car engine easing down Candler—the same one he’d seen when he’d been at Sharains’—its dark tinted windows making it impossible to see who or even how many people were inside. Ty’s hair rose on the back of his neck and his heartrate picked up a few extra beats as he slowed his pace, not wanting to appear shook. The car rolled to the stop sign and Ty crossed at the intersection with the few other pedestrians. He could feel eyes on him, but he didn’t turn his head to see as the engine revved and the car turned in the same direction he was walking then slowed just ahead, pulling against the curb. He didn’t know who the hell that was, but he wasn’t about to wait and find out. His father didn’t raise no fool. Ty dropped behind a couple of men just as the MARTA bus pulled up to the stop. As soon as the doors swung open, he darted up the steps before anyone else could even get off. He hurried to the middle and dropped down into a seat, pulling his collar up higher, turning to look out the window. He was glad no one could see how wide his eyes got when the driver’s door opened, and a man dressed in head-to-toe black and built like a brick shithouse eased out of the jet-black Mustang. He stared across the street, his eyes the color of charcoal scanning the crowd Ty had been walking behind, before his head jerked toward the MARTA already pulling away from the curb. There was no way in hell the dark man could see him on the bus, but he still squinted at it and turned up one side of his mouth as if he knew he’d been duped and climbed back into his car.

Settle. Ty brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking long breaths to calm his mind. His brain was trying to go into hyper-drive. For over ten years Ty had to live in Atlanta’s slums so he could stack his money the best he could without hurting anyone. And he’d never made an enemy, had always stayed off the radar. Then suddenly out of nowhere it looked like the Grim Reaper himself was on his ass. Did Cheddar have someone following him? He took out his cell and pulled up his number.

Ty: Yo man. You good?

After the bus turned on Mooreland Ave and gained speed, Ty was relieved he didn’t hear the devil’s chariot behind it.

Cheddar: Yeah. You almost here. I got everything set.

Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. If Ty had a tail, he didn’t want to lead him back to Cheddar.

Ty: I’ll hit you up in the morning. Something came up.

Cheddar: Cool

Ty pocketed his phone. Cheddar never questioned him. He knew Ty was a man of his word, and he’d make sure the package was there and on time. It was going on four o’clock, he’d been on the bus for an hour now, riding mindlessly through Edgewood where he transferred and took the bus into Cabbagetown, still avoiding the route to take him home. If he was being followed they’d get tired of it after a few hours, and that was just how long he rode before finally looping back around to the West End. Ty’s ass was numb when he got off the bus and made the small trek down his depressing street to his building. He looked up and down the sidewalk, but all was quiet. He gave an involuntary shudder because he knew, he somehow just knew, he hadn’t lost the man in black. Not for good. He was coming for him.

“Be aware of the calm before the storm, son.”

Ty let himself into his one-bedroom apartment, listening intently for any unusual sounds before he closed the door and locked himself inside. First thing he did was remove his coat then he grabbed two bottles of water out of the fridge, not stopping until he’d drained them both. He stood in the tiny kitchenette with his hands on the counter, his chin tucked to his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to think clearly, now that he felt less like a dried-out sponge. He went to the framed photo of his father in his Navy uniform hanging on the wall beside his entertainment stand. “What have I got myself into, Dad?” He stared at the picture for a few more minutes as if he’d hear an answer. Shaking away any trepidation, Ty realized he had something to take his mind off of the unknown. Sharain. He went to his bedroom to find something to wear for tonight.

Ty waited in his stairwell for a few minutes before he finally left through the main door. He called a Lyft to meet him at the church one street over—not taking any chances—and took it to Sharain’s apartment near Clark Atlanta University. He’d brought a bottle of wine with him and a single red rose. His mom hadn’t been a drinker, but she loved to pair a nice bottle of wine with a special occasion. Ty considered it fitting and he wanted to get it right, because a woman will let a man know when he’s dropped the ball. And he knew not to go to anyone’s home for the first time empty-handed. 

The Lyft let him out at the curb in front of Sharain’s building, and to his dismay there were several people hanging out around the block and on the stoop. Heads turned his way, the ladies showing their approval boldly, the four men sizing him up from his fresh Jordans to the gold chain around his neck. Ty looked each one in the eye as he walked past.

“Look at this cat. Think he the shit. He must be Sharain’s flavor of the month,” one of the men said, plenty loud enough for him to hear.

Ty kept going up the few stairs, not bothering to show a reaction. If that lounging-ass bastard thought that remark was enough to make him pause then he was just as bitch as his comment was. 

Ty knocked on door 1B, holding the rose and bottle of wine close to his side. The door swung open and Ty tried not to cringe at the sexy nightwear Sharain was wearing, or the potent scent of perfume that knocked him in his face as she waved him inside. He averted his eyes quickly, but he still saw enough to know Sharain was leaving absolutely nothing to his imagination. At his age and in his hood, he was used to the females flaunting what they mama gave  ‘em, but growing up in his home he’d been taught differently.

He remembered his sweet mother’s words. “A woman has to first show respect for her own body before a man will know to. The sun doesn’t lose its radiance when it’s covered by the clouds, the same way a woman’s beauty doesn’t fade when she’s covered by her clothes.”

If Ty’s mother was going outside the house, then she was always covered appropriately in her beautiful hand-sewn scarves. She only revealed her angelic beauty for her king, for his father. Ty remembered watching his father meticulously remove her wrap when she came inside, always appearing to stare in awe each time her dark locks flowed down her back. A gift unveiled only for him.

“Hey Ty. Right on time I see.” Sharain smiled prettily at him and swiveled her hips in what he guessed to be a sexy pose. “You like what you see?”

Ty looked her in the eye. “This is for you,” he said evenly. 

She seemed taken aback by the rose before she smiled slyly. “Oh damn, baby. That silky voice of yours, champagne… and flowers. You trying to make a girl fall in love, huh?”

Ty finally turned away from her teasing glint and took in her home. The place was small but very clean, and she’d lit multiple scented candles around the living room, bathing the space in a warm glow. He had no clue why she was setting a scene. She ran the petals of the rose across her ample chest, licking her lips. “I’ll just put this bubbly in the refrigerator and I’ll be right with you, handsome.” She stared up at his eyes, hunger and unabashed lust radiating in her own. He took a couple of steps back and allowed her to get herself together. Maybe it’d been a while for her, too, and she’d completely misread what his intentions were, but they certainly weren’t to get her into bed on the first night. He’d never be so disrespectful. Ty removed his coat himself, since she hadn’t offered to take it, and draped it over the one chair and sat on the couch. He wondered what she’d made for dinner, or were they having small finger stuff? His stomach growled embarrassingly when he realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He didn’t see anything on the table.

She came out of the kitchen, rounding the corner with a flourish. Her soft, pastel pink gown flowing elegantly behind her. Sharain didn’t stop until she was standing between his thighs. “You wanna join me in the bedroom, Ty?”

“I’m fine here, thank you.” Ty leaned back and crossed one sneaker onto his other knee. “I hope white wine is fine with dinner.”

Sharain scoffed before a jackal-like laugh escaped her glossy lips. “Dinner? I don’t cook, love. Unless it’s in there.” She tilted her head toward the bedroom.

Damnit. This was definitely not his queen. His father had brought his mother flowers, candy, notes, and more flowers for days, before she’d agreed to the first date. He hadn’t mentioned how long it had taken before they were wed and intimate, but his mother was a lady and she’d carried herself as such. Ty deserved that realness. He wouldn’t settle. He stood slowly and reached for his jacket. “I’d better go.”

“What?” Sharain looked equal parts bewildered and pissed. “You still playing hard to get? What the hell is up with you, you don’t like women? What’d you expect to happen tonight?”

Ty finished putting his coat on and turned to face her. He glared down on her and spoke in a definitive tone. “I was only expecting what you offered me this afternoon, nothing more. A little company, conversation and getting to know each other. That’s what you said.”

She gave him an unimpressed scowl as she splayed her sheer robe open. “You’re a punk-ass if you’re turning all this down?”

Ty paused with his hand on the door. He went back and stood over her, his ire making itself present. She swallowed roughly, her eyes bulging as he spoke through clenched teeth. “You won’t offer me food, drink, or conversation… but you’ll offer me your body?”

Sharain glared at him before cinching her robe. “Get the hell out of my house.”

With pleasure. “Good night,” he said, wishing it hadn’t ended like that.

The door slammed at his back, but he didn’t turn around. She wasn’t a nice woman after all. She didn’t have manners or self-respect, so she didn’t deserve his. Therefore, she couldn’t be his queen. He shouldn’t have been allowed to even lay eyes on her flesh until he’d proven himself. Ty had been taught that a woman would love him first with her heart and soul, it would be a true gift when he was worthy to lie with her. He remembered his father’s teaching, and instead of second-guessing and questioning what he knew was right, he headed out of the building, again ignoring the rude remarks from the hood rats who called him a ‘one-minute man’ and a ‘quick shooter’.

I guess I still haven’t had a date in two years.

He waited on his Lyft two blocks over, wanting nothing more but to get home and into his bed to sleep for at least eight solid hours. As he slid into the backseat of the white Jetta, he put his earbuds in as a clear indication he wasn’t up for idle chat. He didn’t play any music. He was frustrated, his mind already busy and whirring with a bunch of unanswered questions. Releasing a heavy sigh, he dropped his head back on the seat. Where is my soul’s half? He left the Allah off the front of that sentence. He didn’t pray and he wasn’t asking any entity in particular. He hated that he’d lost his faith, but he hadn’t lost his spirit. He was still a believer.

When he’d turned seventeen, he’d been suddenly fatherless, void of his wise lessons and trapped in a world of mayhem. Stranded in the hood with nonbelievers. This wasn’t the brotherhood his father had spoken of. His mind went back to his parents, to his childhood. To a time where life was damn near perfect. His father had loved his family more than anything. His wife, his son and his brothers in arms were his world… in that order. He was the strongest man Ty had known. He remembered how he’d marveled at anything his father did, any lesson he taught. He felt as if his dad was the I Ching because he had the answer to everything—or so it’d seemed when he was young.

His father was from a moderately populated town in Kenya, called Makuyu. It was about an hour’s drive from Nairobi. His father had been a scholar. His family prominent and wealthy, affording him the best education and an opportunity to study abroad for his Masters. It was during his final year at the University of Georgia when he’d met a shy, honest, half-white, half-black Christian woman and fell head over heels in love with her, recognizing his queen on the spot. Ty’s mom had been a nursing student at the time, there on a scholarship. She didn’t have much, and she’d come from even less. When he’d been taken to the health center for exhaustion, it was her warm brown eyes he woke up to. His father hadn’t cared about her status and he hadn’t cared about her religion. She was still a believer. She’d loved him and respected his culture and beliefs, gladly taking on many of his customs, all because she loved him that much. But marrying an American Christian was not what his father’s family had sent him to the states for, and the minute he’d chosen to marry her… he was no longer welcomed back home. Not with his bride. It was a hard journey for a twenty-six-year-old man, but his father had met every challenge head on. He was fearless. He may have been born privileged, but in Kenya he’d still been taught to be a man and how to survive on his strength, as well as his brilliant mind. After committing himself to Ty’s mother and finishing his degree, he obtained citizenship. He enlisted into the military when Ty was still in the womb. His IQ and ASVAB scores propelled him straight to Annapolis. There was nothing his father did and didn’t excel at, including being a military officer.

So why didn’t he come home?

Ty’s eyes were closed. He’d been so lost in the memories he realized he was almost home. He shook his head when his thoughts went dark. He liked to reflect on the good times with his family… before everything had gone to hell. Ty could still hear the doorbell, still see the men standing in crisp formal military blues with grim looks on their faces, telling them their world would never be the same.