Here’s an extract from ‘Getting Some’ for your reading pleasure (or NOT, depending on what you like to read!) As I said over on Facebook (www.facebook.com/KikiTerrell ) this extract is from Chapter 4, and Coco is listening to Tasha’s account of how Kerin proposed to someone else via text message, while still living with her….
Chapter 4 – Coco
What I want to know is, what kind of an idiot proposes to a woman with a text message? And what kind of an idiot accepts such a marriage proposal? And ruining the beauty sleep I’m not getting (and the slant of the doo-rag keeping my wrap in place) to find out, will be, I hope, so worth it. ‘Cause otherwise? Heads. Will. Roll. Not that I’d be getting my beauty sleep if Tasha hadn’t rung – my head is killing me. And it isn’t just because my jaw is the size of the London Eye.
“An airhead named Erin who doesn’t ask where her equally stupid man sleeps at night,” answers Chama, “Sorry Tasha.”
She’s got her halo on, even at four o’ clock in the morning.
I was about ten minutes into a call to Jared, one of the delivery guys from the printers Chocolate uses, when I answered the beep. There are only two things I interrupt late-night phone-sex with Jared for – real sex with my husband or an ‘emergency’ call from one of my BFFs. Considering the tear-soaked gibberish on the other end when I pressed the ‘Flash’ button? I’d say it was an emergency. So I reluctantly stopped Jared in the middle of his description of his favourite body-part (usually, I try not to laugh when he calls himself Jackhammer Jared like he’s actually proud of it, but otherwise his phone technique is really rather good) and called up Chama on three-way ‘cause, first of all, I didn’t feel qualified to talk to Tasha about this particular issue all by myself and, secondly, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I mean, Kerin is a dog and all, but who the fuck is Erin? Chama’s so stunned when she hears the story that she doesn’t even bother with the suggestion that we pray with her about it which, nowadays, she does before we share the crisis. For the first time in a long time, Chama seems to be at a loss for words.
“So where’s the playa now?” she asks, as poor Tasha struggles to compose herself.
“He’s taking his mom to the airport today so he left again soon after he showered, but he’s coming back here and crashing for the day ‘cause he’s not going in to work,” her words begin to warble, “at least, that’s what he told me,” she finishes doubtfully – and promptly dissolves into tears again.
“So what did he say when you confronted him?” is what I ask. And I mean, I’m trying to tread gently. If the subject of Kerin and the prospect of him leaving can reduce my hard-core-home-girl- reformed-gang-veteran-of-a-best-friend to such a whimpering mess, what choice do I have? Telling her that she should beg him to move out and marry the girl tomorrow so she can be rid of his sorry ass sooner rather than later is probably not the kind of advice she can take right now. And frankly, right now I’m really missing the older version of my BFF cause I’d bet my vintage Hermés that the Tasha I knew at Uni would have reached for the nearest blunt object and beaten him unconscious after she’d read that text, and at the very least, given me something worth losing a couple minutes heavy-breathing with Jared to hear about. But then again, the old Tasha, pre-enlightenment, would have seen through Kerin’s ruse a long time ago. Of that much I’m sure.
“I didn’t,” says Tasha.
“Oh, Sweet Jesus, don’t get all new-age on me again,” Chama starts, “what?!!! You’re gonna wait for him to work this one out as an individual because of your pure, non-traditional love, right?”
So I’m trying to shush Miss Chama, with some discreet throat-clearing, to spare us both the tirade I know she’s brewing, but she doesn’t get it and right after she asks me if my overindulgence in alcohol has finally burnt a hole in my throat, I have to say:
“Chama, can you please try to be a little more understanding of any set of values that doesn’t match yours?”
But Tasha says “No, it’s OK, confronted him is what I should have done. What I actually did was far worse. I’m so ashamed of myself – it’s like I never even went on that cruise, it’s like I didn’t learn anything at all ….”
So then Chama asks what the hell she’s talking about and I’m getting a little bit worried and excited at the same time at the prospect of something that will finally, finally, take my mind off that little black bug sitting on the door to this little shit bedroom of the nowhere apartment I’ve been reduced to. Cause in all honesty? Jared’s graphic descriptions of his jackhammer didn’t do it. I’m thinking maybe Tasha, back to her old self, will tell us to pick her up from the Police Station ‘cause they’ve found Kerin poisoned in the departure terminal at Gatwick Airport or something. Frankly? I wouldn’t blame her one bit. I mean, can you imagine? Asking someone she’s never heard of to marry him when he’s living off her? There’s no telling what the old Tasha would have done faced with an affront like this and, with the stress the new Tasha’s been under, the old one could very well be due for an appearance.
“I texted them,” explains Tasha, sobbing incoherently.
“Texted who?” Chama asks, surprised.
“All of them, every female on his contacts list: his boss at work, his brother’s girlfriend, each and every one of those bitches in his cell-phone.”
So then I get silent cause it doesn’t look like this is going to end well and I really, really don’t want to have to get up just to drag her crazy ass off to the Psyche Unit at the hospital. Truth is? The ‘old’ Tasha we know from first year at Uni is probably not even half of the bad bitch she must have been before that. Ever so often when we’re talking and she starts a story about her childhood, her face gets hard, sinister somehow, with the sly, savage undertone of someone you’d cross the street to avoid walking next to. I know that look. I used to see it quite often myself, when I lived in the ghetto. Point is? Despite her ‘evolution’ and all her peace-mongering? I have a suspicion that, with the right blend of bad circumstances? The Tasha we’d see might be someone we wouldn’t even want to know.
“What did you say?” Chama asks quietly.
“After I found that text from Erin,” Tasha explains, “I don’t know what came over me, my fingers just flew over that keypad.”
“And ….” coaxes Chama.
“I made like it was coming from Kerin and I said I’d wanted them from the moment I saw them and I asked them to marry me.”
So I’m like, “All of them? You proposed to every woman on his contact list?”
And the new Tasha says “Yeah,” in a small voice, snivelling, “I gave into revenge. My aura must be so ugly right now …..”