The Viper and his Majesty by Tiana Laveen

CHAPTER FOUR

‘Tow’ the Line and Ain’t that Peachy?

“My wife used to do it.” The tall, thin Black man with tight, white kinky curls, and a prominent bald spot on his head, stood on Majesty’s porch holding a peach pie. The smell wafted in the air like invisible flags waving in the wind. He had a kind smile, his dark skin was aged from the sun and time, and he smelled of tobacco and earth. The whites of his heavily hooded eyes were a bit yellow, and straight black and gray hairs peeked out from his wide nostrils. He held the tin pan containing a dessert as though it were a delicate child. “She died seven months ago. She used to welcome new people to the neighborhood with a homemade dessert. I’ve picked up the torch since she passed.”

Majesty stepped outside her door.

“That’s nice of you. Thank you.” She took the pie from him. It was still warm, and although she hated peach pie, the fact that it was just out of the oven filled her with comfort. It was truly the thought that counted. “Do you make it from scratch, too?”

Just then, she spotted Viper pulling out of his garage in his black Bugatti with gold trim. The loud Latin music pouring from the car made the entire street vibrate, and it seemed as though the bastard was inside of a giant dildo. He is a bit of a dick. She smirked at the thought. The show-off revved his engine before speeding down the block. Meanwhile, the old neighbor from two doors down kept talking about not using too much butter in the crust. As if noticing her distraction, he craned his neck and watched the black and gold expensive car disappear down the road.

“That’s Dominic,” he offered.

“Dominic? That must be his government name. He told me it was Viper. Of course, no one would name their son after a snake.” She chuckled. “Uh, I’m sorry, sir, speaking of names, I didn’t catch yours.”

“Earl. Earl Dickens. Some call me, Mr. Earl.”

“Mr. Earl, would you like to step inside?” She realized she’d forgotten her manners. She’d been so frazzled with unpacking, working overtime the last couple of days, helping Troy with his homework, making sure he got his hair cut at the barber, and trying to get her car fixed, that it seemed her basic home training in hospitality had gone out the window.

“Okay, thank ya. Thank ya.”

The old man timidly followed her inside. She kept the front door open, then closed the screen behind him.

“Let me put this pie in the kitchen and get you something to drink. I’ll be right back. Please have a seat.”

“I’m okay right here. Need to stretch my legs anyway.”

Mr. Earl crossed his slight arms and hands, and waited like a statue in his army green button-down shirt, slouchy brown pants, and worn shoes. She placed the pie on the counter, then pulled out a pitcher of a concoction she often made for Troy from the refrigerator. His favorite drink: a mixture of pink lemonade, Sprite, fruit punch, pineapple juice, strawberry flavoring and a little blackberry puree. After pouring a glass, she marched back into her living room, then to the foyer area where Mr. Earl remained.

“You’ve got a real nice home. I like seein’ younger people movin’ here.”

“Thank you.” She handed him the glass and he graciously took a sip. “I didn’t ask if you were thirsty. Just assumed you were since it’s such a hot day.”

“This is good. Real good.” He smacked his lips. “Woulda been better with some Vodka though.” They both burst out laughing.

“I agree.” She shrugged. “But I make it for my son, too.”

“Oh, yes. I saw your boy runnin’ ’round the other day. How old is he?”

“He’s eight, about to turn nine soon. In the fourth grade.”

The old man smiled big and wide.

“Children are a blessing.” She nodded in agreement. “I’ve got seventeen grandchildren!” he stated proudly.

“Oh, wow! That’s a lot of children to keep track of.”

“It is, but I manage. Check it out…” He then started to rattle off every grandchild’s name. “Me and Arnette had six children. Five of ’em still alive. I had a son prior to meeting her, my first marriage, so that’s seven children for me. He’s Earl Jr.” Majesty mustered a smile. Truth be told, she was bone tired, but refused to rush the fellow home. He was a widower and had come out of his way to welcome her to the neighborhood, bringing her a fresh pie. “Well, I won’t tarry too long. I’ll get goin’. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Majesty Wilson.”

“It was nice meeting you, too.” She opened the door for him, and as he made way to the steps, she called out to him. “Uh, Mr. Dickens, I mean, Mr. Earl, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“You can.” He turned back towards her. “Don’t mean I’ll know the answer, but I’ll try.”

“Dominic… Do you know him well?” She pointed to the big pretty house across the street where the asshole lived.

The old man tapped his finger against his chin, then smiled, as if remembering something near and dear to his heart.

“Well, let me start from the beginning.” Oh no… “I moved ova here with my retirement money when Arnette got sick ’bout five years ago. Wanted to give her her dream house. These houses are expensive. Nice part of town. Golf courses. Beaches. Once she got diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer, I knew I had to make sure she had everything she wanted, ’cause wasn’t no way I was going to have her last days be anythin’ short of glorious. She didn’t act like she was sick, though; she looked beautiful up until her dyin’ day.” Majesty reached for the fabric of her shirt and twisted it when the melancholy struck.

“My wife was as sweet as that pie.” He shook his head, donning a sad smile. “Went to church every Sunday. Sometimes, I went with her. Cooked big dinners for the whole family. Volunteered at the homeless shelters. Played her card games and loved to babysit the grandbabies. Oh, but uh, let me get back to your question… Dominic… We saw Dominic movin’ in one day while we were sittin’ on the porch together. A bunch of biker type guys was wit’ him. Big ol’ mean lookin’ dudes!” The man’s face became animated as he spoke. “We knew these white folks was gonna lose their shit once they caught sight of that big ass Latino man wit’ all them tattoos walkin’ around, lookin’ like a coloring book! Oh, ’scuse me, didn’t mean to cuss in front of no woman. My wife used to get on me about that! I used to be in the navy. Once a sailor, always a sailor… this mouth still a sailor, too.” His complexion deepened right before her eyes.

Majesty burst out laughing. “It’s fine. I’ve been known to say my share of colorful words. I know you’re right, too, about what the neighbors would think.”

He grinned. “They didn’t pay me and Arnette any mind, guess ’cause we’re old, but they kinda stuck up out here. Stick to themselves. So, Arnette said to me, ‘Well, better go bake a pie for the new family.’ She yawned, got up off the swing, went on in the house, and set out all these ingredients to make an apple cobbler. Oh, so Viper’s ass gets a delicious apple cobbler but I get the stinky peach one? Why didn’t you make me an apple cobbler, Mr. Earl? I sure would’ve enjoyed that! Majesty kept her wayward, silly thoughts about the pie to herself. “I sat out there and watched him and his friends load stuff in, and then, to my surprise, they all left… ’cept for him. We was expecting him to have a wife ’nd kids. He has a bunch uh dogs, though. I noticed him putting in lights and cameras over the following days, and putting a fence up. Then he—”

“What happened when your wife took him the pie? How’d he respond?” she cut in, then regretted it, feeling rude. It takes him so long to get to the point. “I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

“Naw, naw.” He waved to her. “That’s all right. If I recollect right, she said he said, ‘thank you,’ but not much else. Not really a talker. Gave her one word answers, but seemed nice enough.”

“Oh. I see.”

“I started noticing he was trainin’ them dogs.” He shook his finger in the direction of Viper’s house. “See, I take two walks a day. One in the mornin’, after breakfast, and one right before dinner. That man would be out there with some clicker gadget doohickey in his hand, sometimes suited up in those protective body suits so when the dog bite, it don’t get cha too bad. The boy bad! I’m tellin’ you, it was like watching a movie.” The man grinned from ear to ear. “I ain’t nevah seen a man make Pit Bulls, Bull Dogs, big ol’ German Shepherds, Rottweilers and Great Danes bow down with the snap of a finger! I’m tellin’ you, dem dogs bowed and prayed to him when he got through wit’ ’em. Treated him like God. I don’t know much about him personally though, Ms. Wilson, so maybe I didn’t tell you what you were lookin’ for. That’s all I know.”

“Please just call me Majesty, and you’ve been a great help. I was just curious is all.”

He nodded. “I know he likes loud music, like me. But mine is loud ’cause I can’t hear shit.” They both burst out laughing again. Mr. Earl was funny, and boy did she need the laugh. “Are you uh… are you takin’ an interest in him? A suitor? You thinking of courting Dominic?” Mischief shined in his timeworn eyes.

Her heart thumped, and her throat constricted like she’d swallowed food wrong.

“Uh…no. Not really.” Running her hand along her collarbone, she shook her head, a bit taken aback by the question.

“Hope I’m not imposing. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything like that.”

“No… no, you’re fine,” she lied.

“It’s just that you’re a real nice-lookin’ woman, and if you live here, must mean you doin’ all right. He’s doin’ all right apparently, too. I bet you two are around the same age, too.”

So now Mr. Earl is a matchmaker.She suppressed a laugh.

“I’m not interested in Viper, Dominic, whatever name he goes by. See, I was just curious about him because we had a… situation, I guess you could say.”

“A situation?” His brow rose.

“Yes. I had to ask him to turn his music down. I work and have classes at night, so having a concert right across the street is not exactly ideal.”

“Oh, I see. Where do you work if ya don’t mind me asking?”

“I work full time as a customer service rep for a retail company, and I work part time as a Human Resources assistant. I also have an online service where I help kids who’ve had some trouble getting into college or trade school. On top of that I am in school getting my Master’s degree in Human Resources. Almost finished, too… just a bit more time to go.”

“Whoa! I like that!”

Her face felt hotter as she flushed.

“Yeah… I keep busy. Just trying to make a good life for me and Troy.”

“Ambition! You’re pretty and smart! What a jackpot. I love to hear about us bein’ busy, and doing great things.” She nodded in agreement. “Me and my wife made sure our children went to college if they wanted to. We made a way. Put three of ’em through school, and our eldest daughter, Linda, is a doctor now.” He beamed with pride.

“That’s wonderful. She is blessed to have you.”

“Your parents live around here?”

She briefly glanced at her watch. “No.”

It took a moment for him to get the hint she wasn’t saying any more. The last thing she wished to discuss was her some-timey mother. Nor did she wish to discuss her father, whom she didn’t have any desire to speak with.

“All right.” He offered a smile, his eyes narrowed. No doubt he’d figured out that was a sore spot to be avoided and left alone. “Now, ’bout the music situation you said you had wit’ Dominic. Usually, these White folks just call the cops on him, but that never goes anywhere.” He shrugged. “They stopped callin’ about his music after a while. I would see the police pull up, talk to him, then off they’d go. Five minutes later, it would be turned up even louder.” He chuckled and shook his head. Mr. Earl didn’t seem terribly concerned about Viper. In fact, it was as if he found him to be a source of entertainment. He started to walk down the steps.

“Okay, well, thank you for talking to me, and for the wonderful pie! I am sure my son will enjoy a slice tonight with some vanilla ice-cream.”

“You’re more than welcome. If you need anything, you let me know.”

“Thank you so much for that offer.”

“Ain’t too many of us over here. They think we don’t belong here, Majesty, but we do. We do…”

Mr. Earl made his way back to his driveway. Back in the house washing dishes, she reflected on her conversation with the old man who was full of personality, good conversation, and truth. Mr. Earl reminds me a little of my grandfather. Not in how he looks, but the way he moves and acts. Grandaddy has been gone for fifteen years, but I will never forget him. He used to give me oranges from his tree and tell me I was his favorite granddaughter, but not to tell anyone. She smiled at the memory. Then, she heard a car pulling up in her driveway.

“That must be Troy. He’s a little early today.”

Majesty had made a quick association with one of the moms at the fancy school Troy was now attending. The woman didn’t live too far away, and Troy and her son were in the same class. The deal was that Troy could ride home with them if Majesty would join the PTA. As she dried her hands off, she heard a beeping sound.

What in the world is that?She made her way to her front door.

“Hey!” she hollered out as a tow truck backed up, ready to haul her car away. “I paid this month’s bill!” An Asian guy wearing a dark green beanie hat got out of the truck and began to hook her car to the pulleys. “Get those off my car!”

“Relax, lady,” he said with a smile. She wanted to smack it clean off his face.

“What are you doing? I said I paid the damn bill. I am not delinquent.”

“This is not a repo.” He smiled wider now, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth. “It’s boss’ orders. Your car isn’t being towed. Well…” He smirked. “Technically, it is, but it’s being taken in for repairs. No big deal.”

“But I never called anyone to come get my car. I made some calls to get estimates, and I called the dealership and tried to explain to them about a recall, but they said they couldn’t get me in until next week, so I tried to—”

“This is already paid for in advance. Get your stuff out of the car if you have anything in there.”

“You can’t take my car until I get some answers on what is going on. You could be any ol’ body.”

“Don’t give me a hard time. I’m not giving you a song and dance, just doing my job.”

“You’re about to be doing that Tik Tok, ‘I’m a Savage’ mothafuckin’ dance as you tryna get my foot out of yo’ ass, if you don’t tell me why in the hell you’re trying to tow my car away!” He has made me go complete Loud Ass Black woman on him! I have tried, Lord knows I did, to stay cool and keep my composure! Mothafuckas be trying it!

He huffed, then nonchalantly reached for a clipboard, and flipped through the paperwork. “You’re getting some scheduled repairs at Martinez Pérez Auto shop in Little Havana on West Flagler Street. Says here they’ll have your car back to you in forty-eight hours, and everything is squared away.”

“Little Havana? That’s a whole hour away. I never scheduled this.” She stood there dumbfounded. Then, it hit her… Wait a minute… Didn’t Viper say his uncle and father have a shop in Little Havana? HE DID! Her body heated with an emotion she wasn’t quite sure how to identify, let alone speak of.

“You said your boss told you to do this. Who is your boss?”

The driver chuckled.

“You know who he is…” And then the man got right back to work.

I can’t get my car into the dealership, and there are other repairs that need to be made which I can’t afford right now. I need this taken care of. I am damn sure not taking it back to my other mechanic; he messed up. Viper did know what he was talking about. I looked it up online and he was right. There was in fact a recall of those parts. How he knew that off the top of his head is crazy to me… I don’t have a lot of expendable money right now. I spent almost every dime tryna get myself and Troy away from that neighborhood and him into a good school system. If I let Viper do this, he’ll want something in return though. I know his type. I’ve been around street dudes, thugs, drug dealers and the like my whole damn life. They try to butter you up, then bam! The bullshit starts. This motherfucker thinks he’s slick. First it was the Lyft service, now this…

Shit, I need my car fixed, though! I can’t keep paying for driving services like I have been, or having my friends pick up Troy in the mornings, then take him to the babysitter when I have to work late. Okay, I’m going to allow this, but this is the last favor I’m going to let him do for me. Men always want something in return, and it usually involves our bodies. That man is a whole motherfucking Latin King – that’s nothin’ to play with. I ain’t fuckin’, suckin’, or trickin’ for nobody.

I know what I’ll do… I’ll pay him back the money when I can. That’ll be in a few weeks, easy. Yeah. This is the last favor. THE LAST!

She ran through all of her thoughts, trying to figure out how the hell to proceed. But truly, there was only one thing left to do.

She quickly grabbed two tote bags she typically used for groceries out of the back of the trunk and began to fill them with a few of her items and Troy’s toys that were lying about.

Just then, a white Toyota Camry pulled up and out popped Troy, sporting his fresh fade haircut and crisp white shirt and jeans. He waved to his little blond-haired friend, Anderson, as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Thank you, Katie, for dropping him off today. I appreciate it.” She offered a wave and a forced smile as the tow truck driver continued making a racket in the background.

“No problem, Majesty! See ya tomorrow.” The woman threw a quizzical look at the tow truck, judging her, thinking her car was being towed for non-payment no doubt. As Katie drove off, Majesty couldn’t help but notice one of her neighbors’ curtains moving. A wave of embarrassment washed over her. Several years ago, while living in downtown Miami, she’d been evicted from her apartment. To add insult to injury, as she’d been moving out with her then toddler son, a tow truck had pulled up to take her parked Mazda. She’d watched helplessly as her vehicle had been towed away, and her home gone. Though that exact scenario wasn’t happening again, and she’d come a long way, her body and heart didn’t seem to know that. It was almost as if it were happening all over again. The memories swelled within her, forcing her to relive the trauma.

“Mama… don’t you hear me?” Troy grabbed her wrist and shook it. “I said I gotta B on my math homework today.”

“A B? Oh… Well, that’s still good, honey.”

“Ms. Pritchel said you was wrong on two of the answers, but right on the others. I expected better from you, Mama. You let me down.”

“Huh? Boy, hush!” She didn’t miss the silly smirk on his face. “I told you to stop telling your teacher that I’m helping you with your homework like that! You were supposed to let her know I helped, not do it for you!”

“But I didn’t want her to think I got the problems wrong, Mama. I wanted her to know it was you that got ’em wrong.”

“You didn’t get any of them wrong, and you didn’t get any right, because you didn’t understand any of it. That’s why I did what I did. I probably was rushing, trying to get it finished after I realized you weren’t understanding how I was trying to explain it to you. We’ll work on it some more tonight after my class. This time, we’ll do it together, and I won’t rush.”

“I don’t think I can trust you, Mama, because you got two of the answers wrong. Maybe you need help with the homework, too.”

“Thanks, Troy.” The boy giggled, knowing darn well what he’d done. “So you’re just gonna throw your mother under the bus like that?” She laughed and playfully swatted at him. “Come on, baby. Get in here and wash your hands. Dinner will be made in a little bit. You can eat a few apple slices until then. We need to go over those math timetables again since you seem to be struggling with them.” She turned to walk back inside, then paused. “Forty-eight hours it’ll be ready, right?”

“Yes, and they’ll drop it back off here, too. No need to make arrangements to come pick it up.” The man then dug in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s the number of the place. The owner’s name is Esteban Martinez.” The guy got in the truck, then drove off.

“Mama, will you pack my lunch for tomorrow? The food at school is nasty. ’Cept for Fridays. Fridays are Pizza Day.”

“Yes, baby… I’ll make you a peanut butter and jam sandwich, and toss in some chips and a Capri Sun. Come on, we have limited time and a lot to do…”