with a sniff and a glazed look on his face. He was no longer looking at me; he was looking over my shoulder at the wall. When I cleared my throat and pressed against him a little harder, he returned his attention to me. He shook his head and looked at me, blinking a few times before he spoke again. “I figured I’d do a little television first. You know, so I can get my feet wet. I cut my teeth on Cheers, but I think I’ll concentrate on the serious shows when I get down there. There are too many black clowns out there already. They should have stopped with Eddie Murphy.” He paused and gave me a sideways look. “You really think I can do it?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. I was kind of thinking about doing that same thing myself,” I lied. “You seen Body Heat? It’s my all-time favorite movie. I am going to do movies like that.”
His smile faded, and he gave me a harsh look. “Yeah, right.” The sarcasm in his voice was so thick, you could stir it with a spoon. Then a sad look crossed his face, and he attempted to move away from me. But I still had my arms around his waist and his back was against the counter. “I really am going down to Hollywood. I will show you. I will show everybody. And, I don’t appreciate you coming up in my mama’s house, making fun of me! Gimme that money!” he snarled, snatching out of my hand the money that I had come to deliver to his mama.
I stumbled back a few steps, bumping into the wobbly kitchen table. “I would never make fun of you,” I whimpered.
That comment didn’t seem to impress him. He shot me a dirty look and started to walk away, stuffing the twenty-dollar bill he’d just taken from me into his pocket. “Look, I gotta empty the trash so Mama won’t be on my ass again,” he said, nodding toward a large trash can in the corner, by the door. “What did you really come up in here for?” he asked, with an impatient wave of his hand. “And don’t tell me it was to discuss my show business future.”
“I came to return your mama’s roasting pan and to bring that money she wanted to borrow to buy her lottery tickets. Honest to God,” I said, nodding at the pan I’d placed on the kitchen counter. “And—”
“And what?”
“And to see if you wanted to have some fun.” I moved back up against him again, parting his legs with my knee. I didn’t care how uninterested he tried to be. That hard bulge between his thighs told me a different story.
“Girl, how old are you?” the boy asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I knew he wasn’t too concerned about how young I was, because both of his hands were on my butt, squeezing and sliding up and down in such a way I could barely stand still.
“I’m old enough for you,” I insisted. “I know you like older women, but there ain’t nothing they can do that I can’t do.” The “older” women that this boy had already fooled around with were in college. And one already had a baby by some other boy. I hadn’t even had my first period yet, so I wasn’t worried about getting pregnant. As a matter of fact, I was wearing my first training bra, even though my titties were about the size of two marbles. Which was why I had stuffed both cups with toilet paper.
He leaned back and looked at my face for a long time. “You are kind of cute,” he admitted, squeezing my butt even harder. When he looked at my titties and started reaching for them, I got as stiff as a board. “What’s wrong?” he asked, both hands inside my bra. Then he froze and looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
“My titties just started growing,” I admitted.
He laughed under his breath as he pulled out the tissue, looking at it like it was a snake. I turned to leave, with my head bowed and my eyes already filled with tears. Some sexpot I had turned out to be.
“Where you going, girl?” he asked, grabbing my arm.
“Home to watch Cheers reruns. I guess you don’t want me now, huh?” I sniffed.
“All I want to know is if you are clean.”
“Huh?” I rotated my neck and gave him a puzzled look. “Yeah, I’m clean. I took a shower this morning. I take a shower every morning.”
The boy rolled his eyes and grinned. “That ain’t what I meant.”
I shrugged.
“Some old, funky, Jamaican girl gave me the crabs last year,” he confessed, looking embarrassed.
“The what?”
“Never mind,” he said, waving his hand and rolling his eyes. “You can stay, and we can have a good time. But, uh, I am telling you now, if you burn me, I am going to kick your butt!”
I had no idea what he was talking about, so I shrugged again.
“Did you know that today is my birthday?” I mentioned.
His eyes were on my breasts as he spoke. “No shit? Damn we gots to celebrate now! Happy birthday. You look clean enough to me, so I’ll take a chance on you. Um … my room’s upstairs. The first one you get to when you get to the top of the stairs. You go on up there and wait on me,” he ordered. “I need to go feed my dog first, and then I need to go lock all the doors.”
I ran up the stairs leading to the second floor, taking the steps two at a time. I had to force the door to his bedroom open with my foot. There was just that much junk on the floor. It wouldn’t be the last time that I entered this same messy bedroom to get fucked like so many other girls before me. But I didn’t want to be like the other girls this boy had been with. I wanted to be special in somebody’s life, and he was a good start.
He shuffled into the room a few minutes later, nibbling on a candy bar and unzipping his pants at the same time. I sat up as soon as he sat down on the bed.
“Yeah, you are kind of cute. What’s your name again?” he asked.
My heart felt like it had dropped down to the soles of my feet. “Christine,” I mumbled.
“Oh, that’s right. Listen, I got a feeling you and me just might get into something real big one day. And, by the way, my name is Wade.”
CHAPTER 11
“Christine, this is Wade. Why are you sounding so strange? What’s the matter with you?”
“Huh?” I had been so deep in thought recalling my first time with Wade that I hadn’t heard the telephone when it rang on the stand next to the bed. I don’t even remember picking it up. But when I heard Wade’s loud voice on the other end of the line, I realized where I was and what time it was. “Where are you? What’s going on?” I looked around the dreary motel room, frowning.
“Listen, baby, and listen good. This is the thing, see. I know this shit is getting crazy, but I might need for you to talk to our boy again,” Wade said, sounding tired and disappointed. “I’m getting real aggravated with your old man.” He sounded angry and even more impatient now.
“What did he say? What’s the problem?”
“He ain’t saying what I want him to say. That’s the problem.” Wade let out a groan and started cussing under his breath. “That’s why I can’t stand niggers with money! They ride on such high horses, they done rode clean out of reality. Them stingy motherfuckers!”
“Is he not going to pay the ransom?” I gasped.
“He’d better! I didn’t go out on this goddamn limb for my motherfucking health!”
“Well, did he say he would, or did he say he would not?” I demanded, my heart beating. Now I was angry and impatient. Not just at Jesse Ray, but at Wade, too. I wanted him to get to the point. “Talk to me, Wade. Is Jesse Ray going to pay you the money or not?”
Wade took his time responding. “Well, I think so, but not without a little more encouragement.”
“Wade, please tell me what my husband said. I’ve talked with him. So … so doesn’t he believe I’ve been kidnapped?”
“He