The Viper and his Majesty by Tiana Laveen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Bless the Child that’s Got His Own

Viper sat next to his mother in her small home that smelled of rich coffee and strong cigarette smoke. His thoughts drifted to the previous day when he and Majesty met for lunch. The evening before that, they’d started a long text message conversation after Troy had gone to bed, which had led to an even longer phone call, and then to them sitting on her porch, talking face to face as the stars sparkled in the sky. And kissing. Plenty of kissing.

He craved her so badly. Oh, the wonderful things I could do to that pussy if given the chance. I’ll get it. Soon… He could still practically taste her strawberry lip-gloss and smell her perfume. Things were progressing well, though he kept their connection a secret, as with all things that mattered to him. He didn’t want it jinxed, or put it out into the world, making it everyone’s business. Each day, he looked forward to her ‘good morning’ texts, often accompanied by a meme or some inspirational quote of the day. He was enjoying himself with Majesty, and though things were moving a bit slower with her than he’d like, he was happy with the time they shared, the conversations they had, and her warmth and humor.

A Hispanic soap opera played out on the TV, and the sounds of children playing outside was at times louder than even the buzz of hair clippers coming from the back bedroom, where his stepfather, Ricky, was cutting one of his cousins’ hair.

“¿Dónde has estado?”

“I’ve been where I told you I’ve been.” He tapped his knee and bent forward, looking down at the ash covered magazine on the table. Vanidades.

“Tu padre me debe dinero.”

“Why are you telling me that papá owes you money?” He shrugged before flopping back on the couch, his chain belt rattling as he moved. “Go take that up with him.”

“No le hablo.”

“Well, if you don’t call him or talk to him, then how is he supposed to know you’re hard pressed to get it?” She rolled her eyes at him as she lit a cigarette. Her hair was down to her waist now, the jet-black color streaked with silver. She seemed to have lost weight; maybe she was trying a new diet as usual, even though she’d always been petite. He’d been in the house for a little over thirty minutes, during which time all she’d done was nag and complain.

First, he was told how he doesn’t answer his phone, or how he should train her friends’ dogs for free. Then she went into a spiel about how her car needs to be fixed, and she wished for him to buy her a new one, even though he’d just bought her the one she currently had, a blue Lexus, two years prior. She then tried to lay a guilt trip on him about Grandma’s death, when all else failed to get the reaction she so desired, harping about how he’d missed the funeral because of him being in prison. But he refused to play her games. He just sat there and yawned as she ranted. He’d hoped she’d be in better spirits, considering she was going on one of her many trips soon, but he’d been wrong.

“When are you giving me a grandchild?” She plopped on the chair across from him. It was beige with a palm tree print, and a stain on the arm from spilled coffee. “Something wrong with you or something?” She waved her cigarette, gesturing towards his pants. “You’re thirty-one.”

“Mamá, this is my first time in I don’t know how long being out of jail for more than four years in a row. Would you please stop naggin’ me, and just let me live my life in peace?” He took a sip of his coffee. On the screen was a ghostly pale Hispanic woman with bleach blond hair and blue contact lenses, crying and yelling in Spanish about how her husband had run off with her twin sister.

“I have no more sons! No daughter, Dominic!” Her voice quaked as her eyes sheened over. “I only had you and Diego! Your father has many stepchildren and grandchildren, while I have nothing. I know you’re not gay, so what is going on? Are you still punishing me?”

Many years ago, he told his mother during one of their notorious arguments that he wasn’t having children. All his friends, LK brothers his age and a bit younger, had kids. It was like a rite of passage, so he was almost like some mystical unicorn amongst his peers. Mamá had burst in tears, but he’d been adamant that though he didn’t blame her for all that had happened in his childhood, the last thing he wanted was to bring an innocent person in the world and watch them struggle and be subjected to possibly he and the child’s mother fighting day in, day out. Mamá had expressed how crushed she’d been by his words, for being a grandmother was one of her greatest aspirations.

“Dominic, I’m speaking to you. Do you still not want children?”

“I want them. I always wanted them. I just said I wasn’t going to have any, regardless of that.”

“That’s ridiculous. It doesn’t make any sense!” She flailed her arms about.

“Wanting something doesn’t mean it’s meant to be. People want things they shouldn’t have all the time.”

She took a drag of her cigarette then smashed it out in a gray ashtray.

“I got to get ready to go.”

They both stood. She seemed so frail, like a tiny flower with wilted petals, but determined to hang on. He walked around the coffee table and wrapped his arms around her. She struggled a bit, being stubborn and angry, but then she laughed and hugged him back. They kissed on the cheek.

“Say goodbye to Ricky, Carlos and Daniel for me.” He heard the buzzing still going from down the hall.

She nodded. “Move back here… to Havana,” she said as she followed him to the front door.

“I told you I needed some time away so I wouldn’t get into any more shit, Mamá. I don’t want to go back to prison. If I’m here, I know I’ll go back. It’s best I just come to take care of business and visit. One day I may return, but it won’t be anytime soon. Things are the way they should be for now. Besides, I’m still close.”

“There’s a girl I want you to meet. Very pretty. She works at a coffee shop,” She pointed ahead, as if that narrowed down the location of the place. “Her name is Camila. She’s tall, like you. Nice smile. Shapely. She’s twenty-one.”

“Too young.” He chuckled and grabbed the doorknob to exit.

“No. It’s perfect. She’s your type!”

“Mamá, what do you think my type is?”

“Big boobs and booty!”

He burst out laughing, his eyes filled with moisture. Mamá was crazy.

“I’m serious!” She slapped his arm playfully, grinning from ear to ear. “I know what my son likes. And she’s nice.”

“I didn’t hear anything about smart…” He toyed with her, thoroughly entertained even though he had no desire to see whoever this woman was that his mother undoubtedly believed would be her daughter-in-law.

“Oh, but she is! I told her next time you come visit, I will have you two meet. She knows who you are.” Mamá crossed her arms, looked him up and down, and sucked her teeth.

“Then you told her my name was Viper, instead of Dominic.” His brow raised, he waited for her to reply.

“What can I say?” She shrugged. “Everyone knows you by that horrible name. So, will you go and meet her?”

“Nah. I’m seeing someone, Mamá.” He opened the door all the way, and the burst of hot sun felt so good against his face.

“Oh, well, whoever she is, she better know how to make a good cup of coffee, and how to cook for my son!” She spoke with such venom, as if blood would be shed if Majesty didn’t do such things. All he could do was laugh. He leaned in and gave her another kiss, then walked to his vehicle. “You brought out your big truck today? ¡Me encanta! Will you buy me a new car, Dominic? Come on, I brought you into the world! Do it for your mother. I deserve a new car!” She hollered out, sporting a toothy grin that made her dimples stand out even more.

“We’ll see, Mamá. We’ll see.” He got into his car, turned on the stereo, and started the engine to go pick up a dog, a Rottweiler named Ruby, that had destroyed most of the doors in her owner’s house. Maluma’s ‘11 PM’ began to play through his truck speakers. Feeling the rhythm, he slapped the steering wheel as he drove down the street. When he got to a red light, he picked up his cell phone and made a call.

“You have reached Majesty. I can’t answer my phone right now, but please leave a brief message and I’ll get back to you. If you’re an ex, a bill collector, or trying to sell me something, no, I don’t want you back, the check is in the mail, and I don’t want your cleaning supplies, vacuum, quick cash loan, or whatever the hell it is you’re being paid to peddle. Toodles!”

He smiled and shook his head, then spoke at the tone.

“Hey, it’s me. I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I know this is kinda last minute, so, if you need to bring Troy, that’s cool. We’ll just go see a kid-friendly movie. Oh, and as a side note, one of the ladies up the street runs a twenty-four-hour daycare. 4.8 stars on Angie’s List, so ya know, I thought that may be an option for you sometimes since she’s so close and all. I know about it because I trained two of her dogs. Hope your day has been good. I’ll catch you later.” He disconnected the call, turned the music back up, and drove on…