“Make
sure you take out the garbage before you leave, Marcel,” his mother said.
“Okay,”
he said.
Marcel
tied the two drawstrings together after he closed the bag of smelly trash and
placed the new bag in the garbage can before he went out the back door of the
house. He waved at one of his neighbors who lived two houses over, and he
opened the back gate and dumped the bag in the outside trash can. He then saw
one of his childhood friends washing his car down the alley and decided to walk
in that direction.
It
was shaping up to be a hot day on an early Saturday afternoon in late May, and
Marcel had some time to kill before his college roommate Dave and his boy Trent
stopped by to pick him up. He gave Melvin some dap and said, “You got the new
ride looking all fresh and shit.”
“You
know me,” Melvin said. “I can’t be driving around in a dirty-ass ride.”
“What
you got going on today?”
“I’m
hanging out with Sheryl for a little while after I finish waxing my car.”
“Sounds
like a plan.”
“What
about you?”
“My
boy Dave just hit me up, and he and his boy Trent are coming by to scoop me up
in a few minutes,” Marcel said as Melvin continued to wipe the wax off of his
brand new black 1989 Chevy Z24. “We’re heading on over to Gill’s and hit the
beach afterward.”
“Word?
What beach are y’all going to?”
“Probably
La Rabida or maybe Rainbow…shit, I don’t know.”
“Maybe
me and Sheryl will come up there later after we get something to eat.”
“Cool,
I’ll let you know where we end up.”
“Alright.”
There
was brief silence before Melvin asked, “What’s Dave’s crazy ass been up to?”
“Same
old shit. I don’t think he’s going back to Prairie View next semester, though.”
“Why
not?”
“I
think his ass flunked out because he had been ditching class all semester. Now,
I’m probably gonna have to find another damn roommate.”
“Damn,
he basically wasted his parents’ money down there.”
“Yeah,
and the sad part about it is he’s smart as hell but lazy as hell at the same
time.”
“That’s crazy.”
A
brown 1984 Buick Cutlass turned the corner at 85th Street off
Jeffery Boulevard and stopped at the entrance of the alley. Trent was bumping
Heavy D’s new album Big Tyme loud enough to serenade the whole neighborhood.
He backed up slightly and entered the alley before pulling up in front of
Melvin’s car, and Dave and Trent got out with the car still running and music
blaring.
“You
got that bass bumpin’, homeboy,” Marcel said, giving Trent dap.
“What’s
up, roomie?” Dave asked Marcel, giving him a fist bump.
“Nothing
much,” Marcel said, “just ready to get buzzed.”
“Yeah,
man,” Trent said, “that’s the plan.”
“What’s
up, bro?” Dave gave Melvin a fist bump.
“Just tightening up the ride,” Melvin
answered.
“This
is my boy Melvin, Trent,” Marcel said.
“I
know Melvin,” Trent gave Melvin a fist bump. “Hell, the whole neighborhood
knows Superstar right here. Are you gonna enter the draft?”
“I
don’t know yet,” Melvin answered. “I don’t have an agent because I wanna see
how I do in the pre-draft camp next week.”
“Everybody’s
saying you’re a lottery pick,” Dave stated. “The Bulls need a point guard as
bad as Oran Juice Jones needs another hit record.”
“I
doubt if Chicago drafts me,” Melvin affirmed. “I think they have the sixth pick
and the eighteenth pick, and I know for a fact that they’re looking to draft a
big man first.”
“Well,
I for one, hope that you stay home, bro,” Marcel added.
“We’ll
see,” Melvin said.
“Y’all
ready to roll?” Trent asked.
“Yeah,
let’s jet,” Marcel said.
“Yo,
wait,” Melvin said abruptly.
“What’s
up?” Trent asked.
“What
beach are y’all going to?” Melvin asked.
“La
Rabida first,” Trent answered. “If we can’t get no action over there, then 31st
Street.”
“Okay,
cool. Page me and let me know where y’all at, Marcel.”
“I
got you, bro,” Marcel said.
The
three of them hopped in Trent’s ride, and Trent backed out the alley before he
cranked up the sound even louder. The track Big Tyme was erupting out of
the woofers and subwoofers in his trunk that were worth almost as much as the
car itself.
Flowin
like water you oughta, get your tape recorder So you can sorta sporta, the new
order From the Overweight Lord of, Lovers Brothers get respect because I give
respect to brothers And others on the agenda, try to remember I can rock a
party from September to September Meaning all year round, I can throw down Sound
for sound, round for round, pound for pound Now~! I'ma take charge, still
"Living Large" I'm not soft, soft as the moth, soft is DeBarge I'm a giant,
a major, apply it to the industry…
Neither
of them said a word as they cruised down Jeffery Boulevard on the way to Gill’s
liquor store in Hyde Park―they were entranced by the sound of the booming bass of
Heavy D’s featured track, who had one of the hottest albums of that summer.
Dave lit a joint and took a couple of puffs before he passed it to Trent.
“You
wanna hit this, Marcel?” Trent asked.
“Nah,
I’m good,” Marcel said. “They do randoms at the job, so I gotta be careful.”
“Word?”
Trent asked rhetorically.
“Yeah,
and I haven’t smoked since I landed my internship last summer,” Marcel said.
“More
for us then,” Dave added, taking another puff after Trent passed the joint back
to him.
They
entered Lake Shore Drive, and the hot air circulated throughout the car as the
Drive opened up to three lanes. People were jogging and riding bikes along the
bike path to the right, and the color of Lake Michigan was a rich, dark blue.
Almost
ten minutes had passed before they pulled up at Gill’s and parked. Marcel
reached in his pocket and pulled out a twenty.
“First
round is on me, boys,” Marcel said.
“I
knew it was a reason why I liked you,” Dave said jokingly.
Trent
popped the trunk and said, “Grab one of those empty bottles.”
They
each grabbed a recyclable gallon jug and walked inside. One of the cashiers
took the bottles to be filled, and Marcel paid $11.50 for the beer. A few
minutes later, they placed two of the bottles in the trunk and popped open the
first bottle of beer before they headed over to the parking lot next to the La
Rabida Children’s Hospital that was several yards away from the lakefront.
Gill’s had also supplied them with several paper cups free of charge. Marcel
found a payphone along the bike path and paged Melvin. Melvin called him back a
minute later.
“What’s
up?” Melvin asked.
“This
is Marcel…we’re at La Rabida.”
“Okay,
cool.”
“Where
you at?”
“We’re
at the Pancake House off 87th and Cottage Grove.”
“Oh,
okay.”
“I’ll
see y’all in a few.”
“Okay,
later.”
“Later.”
There
were still a lot of empty parking spaces in the lot, but they were starting to
fill up fast. A block party type of atmosphere was forming, and Trent had opened
his trunk so that the music could reach its full decibel level. Marcel poured
himself another cup of beer, and it was then that he noticed a beautiful young
lady standing a few feet away next to the car parked a space from Trent’s car.
“She’s
fine as hell,” Marcel said as he filled Trent’s empty cup.
“Yeah,
and her friends are just as fine,” Trent said. “Damn.”
Dave
took the lead and introduced himself to the group of women. Trent and Marcel
followed his lead as the introductions took several seconds. Marcel sparked the
conversation with the girl he liked while Dave and Trent conversed with the
three other women of the clique.
“So,
what do you do, Marcel?” Cynthia asked.
“I’m
a senior at Prairie View, and I’m an intern this summer at IBM,” he answered.
“Prairie
View?” Where’s that at?”
“Texas…near
Houston.”
“Oh,
okay. You like it?”
“Yeah,
it’s cool.”
“Computer
science major?”
“Yeah.”
There
was a pause, and then he asked, “Are you in school?”
“Not
at the moment,” she answered. “I still have sixty credit hours to go after
sitting out a year.”
“Where
do you go?”
“DePaul.”
“What’s
your major?”
“Accounting.”
“And
what are you doing now?”
“My
mother got me on at the County, so I’ve been stacking my money ever since so
that I can go back to school this fall.”
“That’s
great.”
The
flow of the conversation was awkward at best―Marcel’s game was a little weak. Luckily
for him, Cynthia still found him very attractive.
“So,
do you have a girlfriend?” she asked curiously.
“No…nobody
to speak of. Do you have a man?”
“No,
I don’t have anyone.”
“Would
you like to go out sometime?” his mouth was dry, and he was beginning to sweat
from the heat and alcohol.
“Yes,
I would love to go out with you.”
The
ice seemed to be broken after that―they knew everything there was to know about
each other in the next couple of hours. The beer was now gone, and Dave and
Trent were ready to make another run to Gill’s.
“Yo,
Marcel,” Dave shouted, “you coming?”
“Yeah,
give me a second,” he answered.
“It’s
okay,” Cynthia said. “Go with your friends.”
“Are
you gonna be here when we get back?”
“Yeah,
we should be. Let’s exchange phone numbers just in case because I’m not
the one driving.”
“Okay.”
She
reached in her purse for a pen and pad, and she wrote her number down before
she tore off the small sheet of paper and handed it to him.
“Here,
write your number in my notepad,” she said.
He
wrote down his number and handed the notepad back to her.
“I’ll
be back,” he said, motioning toward the car.
“Wait,”
she said abruptly before she grabbed his waist and French kissed him. He placed
his hands on the small of her back while she wrapped her arms around his neck,
and they began to kiss passionately.
“Come
on, lover boy,” Dave said. “She’ll be here when you get back.”
“I
gotta go,” he let go of his embrace.
“Bye,
Marcel,” she said, pecking him on the lips.
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