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“Ain’t funny, Vasso.”

KENDELL LEANED FORWARD taking the sheets with him.  He flicked his cigarette into the ashtray on the floor.  Lydia groaned and pulled back on the sheets.  He let her have them.
It was time for the sun to come up but with the clouds and the rain it was still dark.  A trash truck at the end of the block was shaking out a dumpster.  He grabbed the ashtray and walked to the bathroom.  He wanted a shower and a shave before getting back in the bed with Lydia.  He was going to make sure this was a day both of them would remember.

The clock next to the bed said Vasso was a half hour late, but Kendell wasn’t in a hurry to leave anyhow.  The rain had finally stopped.  Kendell stood in the window looking at the wet street.  He had the smell of Lydia all over him and wished it could last for days and days.
Vasso’s car pulled up in the parking lot under his window.  He honked once and looked up at Kendell’s window.
Kendell nodded.  “It’s time baby.”
Lydia opened her eyes into hazy slits.  “You really gonna do this?”
“Come on baby.  Vasso’s outside.”
“I want to go with you.”
“We’ve already been through that.  I don’t want nothing coming down on you harder than it already has.”
She got up, wrapped the sheets around her waist and walked over to him.  “I love you.”
“I know.”
She followed him to the door, dragging the sheets across the carpet.  “I’ll write you.  And send money, too.”
Kendell let himself imagine her actually writing him.  Maybe this time she would.  He said, “Yeah, baby.  Write me about every little thing.”
She threw herself around him.  He kissed her hard.  It would have been easier just to not feel anything, but then it wouldn’t have been worth nothing.

“Wassup Kendell.”  Vasso leaned across the seat to open the door.
Kendell got in.  “What’s this, man?”  He pulled at a bent clothes hanger wrapped around the top of the passenger door.
“Careful.  It’s holding the window up.  Don’t close it too hard cause it will come loose.”
“Man, why don’t you get your shit fixed?”
“You talking?  You ain’t even got a ride.”
“In a minute, I won’t be needing one.  And Lydia would only get herself in trouble with a car.”
“True.”
The sky was now a light grey.  The streets were starting to dry.  Vasso cut the wipers off.
“Can we stop somewhere first?”
“Stop?”
“I didn’t give Lydia a chance to cook nothing.  Anywhere’s good.”
“What do you want?”
“Pizza’s good.  Up there.”
Vasso turned into a shopping center and lined up behind a row of cars in the drive through.
“You know who I saw yesterday?  Terrance,” Kendell said.
“Terrance from down at the food stamp office?”
“He was at the bus stop.”
“He say something to you?”
“Couldn’t even give me a head nod.”
“You should of asked him how his mom was.”
“Ha!  I’ll tell him how his mom was.  Acting all whatever with people down there just cause he can, turning away old ladies and mothers.  But I wasn’t going to let him sour my last couple of days.”
“It’s you,” Vasso said and leaned back in his seat.
Kendell bent over to read the menu.  Through the window into the speaker he said, “Two slices and a Coke.”
“I can’t believe you’re eating pizza right before you do this.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Get some steak or something.”
“Don’t want steak.  I like pizza.  Hand this to the girl.”
Vasso gave Kendell’s money to the woman in the window.  He passed Kendell his drink and a warm, greasy box.  The woman handed back the change and Vasso pretended to slip it in his pocket.
“Ain’t funny, Vasso.”
“Ha!  Scared of you. You don’t even smile, man.”
“Cause this ain’t funny.”
“Fine.  Here’s the change.”  Vasso handed back the money.
“No.  Keep it.  Send it to me in a month.”
Vasso held his hand out a second longer, then he nodded.  “Sure.”
Kendell opened the pizza box and began to eat.  He folded the slice over on itself and held it in a soggy napkin.  Vasso drove slow downtown.
“You sure about this, Kendell?  There’s still time to change your mind.”
Kendell nodded and swallowed a mouthful.  “I love her, man.”
“You doing this for some pussy?  Damn.  Have you lost your mind?”
“She’s not the reason.  She’s just the reason that makes it good.  I wasn’t making it out here anyhow.  Just a matter of time.”
“I could of helped you.  Mr. Dunn’s got plenty of work.”
“It wasn’t work.  It was me.  Me without her don’t make no sense.  And as long as they still got me by the balls we can’t be together.”
“And now?  You just going to hand your balls over to them on a silver plate?”
Kendell ate the rest of his pizza and took a long drink before answering.  “She got eighteen months.  I did my two but I’m on a leash for three more.  They can yank me anytime for association.  I already talked to my PO on this.  If I walk in there now, I get six months.  The I’ll be off paper.”
“You could run.”  Vasso pulled the car up to a stoplight and waited.
Kendell shook his head.  “Lydia’s out from under it all.  I’m not bringing more down on her.  And six months ain’t nothing.”
“Scared of you.  All I’m saying.”

The sky had cleared.  Vasso drove past the courthouse.  The afternoon sun was coming out from behind the clouds and shining golden light on the marble façade.  The steps out front were crowded with white people: lawyers, clerks, and cops.

Vasso found a spot on the other side of the street.  Neither man spoke.  They slapped hands and punched fists.  Then Kendell got out and crossed the street.
He didn’t notice the people around him.  He strained not to turn around and look back.  If Vasso had left, no way Kendell could go through with it.  He’d run like a rabbit.
He’d get Lydia and go up to Cincinnati.  They could get a place, get jobs, and settle down.  If he didn’t make trouble, there wouldn’t be none.  They wouldn’t come looking across the river for him.  And if they did, he’d run again.  And again.  And again.  He’d do anything so he didn’t have to go back inside.
But he imagined Vasso still there, his witness.  He kept walking, slow and steady.

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Jason F. McDaniel
© Jason F. McDaniel 2010

Jason F. McDaniel holds an MFA from the Jack Kerouac School, Naropa University.
Currently, lives in New York City and teaches high school in the South Bronx.
http://www.jasonfmcdaniel.com/