Life Without Hope Read online

“Please don’t shoot, lady,” I heard one of them cower.

  As if being awakened from the dead, Life moved and sat up

  rubbing his head the way people do when they are trying to get

  over a hangover. I watched as he slowly rose and walked over to

  me. There was a cut above his eye and his mouth was bleeding. I

  swear to God I wanted to hug that man, that thug. There was no

  doubt in my mind he would give his life for me.

  “Give me the gun!” he said with a tone in his voice that let me

  know he was in control.

  At that moment, I just fell apart, a fragile husk of myself. I fell

  into his arms. He whispered in my hair for me to go sit in the car.

  I walked to the car with legs that felt like rubber with weights

  attached to them. Once inside the car, I looked at my watch–1:48

  a.m.

  Life now held a flashlight and rope he had taken off the men.

  At gunpoint he made them all strip naked and walked them into

  the woods. Fear danced with death’s flirtation as I sat in the car

  praying to a god that not even I was sure of.

  It seemed like Life had been gone for an eternity when I heard

  the shots ring out, and then Life came running from out of the

  woods. I noticed that he was limping badly.

  “What did you do?” I asked as soon as he entered the car. He

  ignored me.

  “See if the car will start,” he said out of breath. His body omit-

  ted an odor. I wondered if it was death. Another car passed and I

  couldn’t help thinking I just wanted to get away, safe.

  29

  L i f e

  I turned the key, praying with all my heart, that Betty would

  start. Please baby, please start for mama. The motor turned over. I

  knew the sound like I knew my own voice. She sputtered and then

  died with a cough. Life watched me like I was a judge about to

  decide his fate. I turned the key again and she started like a brand

  new motor. “Thank you Jesus,” I mumbled. Life hopped out of

  the car, picked up the hunting knife off the ground, sliced all the

  tires on the truck and ran back to the car.

  “Let’s go,” he said with emotion in his voice. I eased the car

  onto the road. I did not realize I was that cold until I felt the heat

  on my feet. Life was jabbering away with the adrenaline rush of a

  man who had just received a last minute reprieve from the electric

  chair.

  “Goddamn, Hope, that was some gangsta shit you pulled back

  there. I just wished you hadn’t taken so damn long. Them crackas

  was tryin to kick the bone outta my ass-.”

  We passed a sign that read “Kissimmee, Florida.” 176 miles to

  Tallahassee. My mind was all over the place.

  “Life what did you do to those men? I heard shots.” My voice

  cracked, like too much pressure on a dam.

  “Girl, do you know what them crackas was gettin ready to do

  to us … to you?” His eyes finished the statement when he looked

  at me saying that they were going to rape me. He fired up a ciga-

  rette as I drove through the night wishing the car would go faster.

  I turned on Route 19, a thoroughfare that goes through the hub

  of the city. The town looked rural and antebellum; still I found it

  comforting to be back within city limits. The streets were lined

  with stores and small businesses, hotels and restaurants and the

  speed limit was 35.

  I passed through the toll booth and paid a dollar. On both

  sides of the streets were police cars. “Smile,” Life told me. For the

  benefit of the police, I spread my weary lips across my teeth and

  displayed a smile as fake as the plastic fruit Grandma kept on her

  dining room table. After what I had just experienced back there,

  mentally and physically, I was exhausted. We drove in silence, and

  30

  L i f e

  then it happened, the car slowed, kicked and sputtered. The

  motor died. I coasted into a parking place on the side of the road.

  Once we stopped, the reality of my grim situation pushed me over

  the edge and I completely lost it!

  “Nooooo! Nooooo! Noooo!” I wailed, pounding my fists on

  the steering wheel. The last twelve hours had been too much for

  me to handle. It felt like I was having a nervous breakdown.

  Slowly, I turned my head, and glared at Life. He was looking

  at me with shock written all over his face, the way a person does

  when they are trying to decide if you have lost your damn mind.

  “You!” I screamed at him, pointing an accusing finger in his

  face. “Ever since I laid eyes on you, everything that can go wrong

  has.” I felt tears brimming on the rim of my eyes. “I want to go

  home. I don’t want to be stranded with you, and God please tell

  me, what did you do to those men back there?!” My voice plead-

  ed. I was winded. The police cruiser that was at the toll booth,

  passed.

  “Smile,” Life said.

  “Shiiit,” I hissed, showing my teeth for a different reason,

  looking like an angry possum about to attack his ass.

  “Listen Hope,” Life said. His voice was diplomatic, but I

  could tell he was fighting for self-control. We were two people get-

  ting on each other’s nerves.

  “You should have never attempted to make a trip in this car.

  The radiator leaks, the motor is bad and some mo shit.” The

  cadence of his voice changed almost as if he were talking to a small

  child.

  “Hope we’re just about two hours outside of Tallahassee. We

  can walk, sleep in the car, or we can get a few hours of rest at a

  hotel while the car is getting fixed. I saw a Holiday Inn a few miles

  back. I’ll call a tow truck and we can leave first thing in the morn-

  ing.”

  I slumped over the steering wheel placing my head over my

  arms. I was exhausted, my head hurt and just the thought of a

  long luxurious bath was tempting.

  31

  L i f e

  “We’ll sleep in separate rooms,” he assured. His words a gam-

  bit. I figured, what did I have to lose? It was 2:00 a.m. and I was

  tired. Spending the night in my car just did not appeal to me. So

  I agreed under those conditions.

  About thirty minutes later a tow truck was being hooked up

  to my car. I grabbed my meager luggage and the three one hun-

  dred dollar bills in the ashtray. Ever since I was a little girl, there

  had always been something about hotels that I found alluring.

  They made me feel like something I have never enjoyed, a vaca-

  tion. At the Holiday Inn we got separate rooms with an adjoining

  door. I kept mine locked.

  As soon as we got our rooms, he walked me to mine like a

  complete gentleman, and then went to the bar to get something

  to drink. I took a long, hot luxurious shower that felt so good I

  did not want to come out of there. After ward, I put on my night-

  ie and crashed underneath the covers, but I could not sleep. Life’s

  face kept appearing on the screen of my mind.

  OK, I can’t lie, curiosity was killing me. It also killed the cat,

  or in my case, I should say kitty.

  *****


  32

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Four

  “Fahrenheit of Lust”

  – Hope –

  Curiosity got the best of me and I made the second biggest mis-

  take of my life. The first one was helping him and now this.

  I tiptoed to the door, unlocked it and then tried his door. It

  opened. A single dim light shined in the room. Life sat perched in

  a chair in front of a large picture window with the blinds opened

  wide. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. The gleaming swimming pool in

  front of his room reflected a kaleidoscope of colors off of his body.

  A cigarette dangled from his finger as gray smoke ringed his head.

  On the table was a bag of ice, a fifth of Hennessy and a shot

  glass half filled. For some reason I just watched that man as the

  smoke curled out his mouth, the stolid face of a Black man

  impelled by his thoughts. Lord knows he had a lot to think about.

  Again I wondered if he killed those men. I also wondered was I

  attracted to him, a thug.

  He took a sip of his drink, pinky finger extended, then he

  made a face the way people do from a drink of strong liquor as he

  stared at something out the window. Whatever it was held his

  attention. Moments passed and he had me looking too, and sud-

  denly it dawned on me what he was looking at–Me!!

  “Do you always creep into people’s rooms spyin’ on them

  when you think they’re not watching?”

  I was cold busted. The entire time, he was looking at me

  through the reflection in the window. Slowly he turned toward me

  33

  L i f e

  and I could see the scar underneath his eye. Something was miss-

  ing, something was wrong. This was the intimate part of the man

  without his mask, hur t prevailed on his face and instantly I regret-

  ted coming into his room. His eyes roamed my body for a fleeting

  second and then looked away, as if he were dismissing me.

  “Go and get some rest. We got a long day tomorrow with the

  car and all.” His words were languid, he sounded tired. I just stood

  there, lost for words, not able to describe what I was feeling for

  this man. Maybe it was sympathy wrapped up in a big ole ball of

  sorrow.

  I was wearing practically nothing. My nightie was very trans-

  parent. It was made of sexy satin and lace, cut short way above the

  thigh. The cleavage was more than an eyeful since I wasn’t wear-

  ing a bra. I was about as nude as a woman could get except for my

  panties. Talk about a girl’s pride. “Can I have a drink?” I heard my

  voice say, husky with a feminine timber of boldness.

  “Hope, I got a lot on my mind,” he said running his hand over

  his short cropped hair. “Get some rest, I’ll have breakfast waiting

  for you when you wake in the morning.”

  He just stared at something in the window. Something only he

  could see. I recognized the hur t on that man’s face, the way only a

  woman can. Barefooted, I padded across the shag carpeting and

  fixed myself a drink. He turned and looked at me annoyingly.

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said, girl?” His voice was slightly

  slurred. I ignored him and bent down to retrieve a piece of ice that

  I intentionally dropped to the floor. I flirted just to get his atten-

  tion, to see his reaction. Ever since we met, he treated me like his

  little sister. The man never paid the slightest bit of attention to

  me. I wondered if there was such a thing as a gay thug. I sat down

  right in front of him, crossed my legs ladylike and took a swig of

  my drink. It burned in a nice way. Quiet engulfed us like a gentle

  storm. I was lost for words.

  What am I doing?

  I continued to ask

  myself.

  “So what are you going to do when you get to Tallahassee?” I

  asked.

  34

  L i f e

  “I dunno … I dunno …” he shook his head somberly. “Maybe

  find a job and save up some money to go to night school, get me

  a lawyer.”

  “Yeah, that would be a good idea. You could use a good

  lawyer, because you damn sure know how to find trouble. You are

  a jinxy-ass man.” With that, he erupted in hilarious laughter, full

  and vibrant. The kind of hearty laughter that would stand out in

  a room full of people, loud and jovial. It reminded me of Eddie

  Murphy’s singsong cackle. Masculine and strong, I couldn’t help

  but smile, too as tears rolled down his cheeks as he continued to

  laugh. I poured myself another drink, a nightcap I told myself. I

  already had a buzz. I took a sip and raised up to stand, I slightly

  staggered but he did not notice. “I’m going to get some rest.

  Check out time is 11 o’clock and it’s just about 4 o’clock.” He just

  looked at me, his ebony eyes opaque slants, eyes that I couldn’t

  read. He stood. His bronze body was sculpted like one of them

  African statues of a warrior. His stomach was chiseled. His brawny

  chest was big and hairy. He wore a large platinum chain.

  The light from the swimming pool shimmered off our bodies.

  I bit down on my bottom lip as he walked toward me. No one can

  convince me that a man and a woman, in the solitude of the night,

  confronted by their riveting intimacy, do not produce a kind of

  celestial energy that holds them bound to the laws of nature. It’s

  fervid heat of unquenched passion. I felt my body tingling as if I

  were on fire. I knew that if he touched me we would both burn in

  a fahrenheit of passion. The Hennessy, mingled with his manly

  scent, was like an aphrodisiac to my feminine loins.

  “Hope I’m sorry for everything that I’ve put you through. I

  can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, and to be truthful

  with you, I’m really not a …not a …” he stammered and for some

  reason I felt my body leaning toward him like how gravity pulls.

  “I’m really not a jinx,” he said awkwardly. This time I burst

  out in laughter spraying his face with spittle. For some reason, I

  was feeling giddy. I wiped his face with an affectionate hand. He

  kissed my fingers and then pecked me on the forehead like I was

  35

  L i f e

  his little sister and gently pushed my shoulders.

  “Get some sleep Shouty, I’ll wake you in the morning,” he

  said, as he smiled displaying that dimple. Just as he was about to

  turn away, I flung my arms around him, lassoing his neck, kissing

  him fully. At first he did not respond. So I kissed him with every-

  thing I had. I grinded my torso against his manhood and then I

  felt him respond as his hands went under my nightie palming my

  ass. The fire was ignited. The torrid passion of flames roared. His

  lips found their way to my neck as his hands pulled my gown

  down exposing my breasts. My nipples were erect. He squeezed

  and sucked them greedily. I moaned. I could feel his stiff erection

  running down my thigh. His lips and tongue trailed my flesh,

  licking me like I was sweet molasses. I was moist and getting wet-

  ter with every touch. Then something panged in me. This was not
/>   right. Through the fog of alcohol and fervid lust, clarity began to

  crystallize.

  This is not right! What am I doing? What am I doing?

  I

  thought to myself, finally I shouted, “Stop!” I placed my hand on

  his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he just kept pulling

  on my panties, tugging.

  “No, please!” I begged. It was as if I awakened something dor-

  mant in this man. Something bestial. He was not listening to me.

  He had my panties around my thighs and then pushed me against

  the dresser, pinning me there. I felt my panties being torn. There

  is a name for this and I couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

  In one quick motion he slid out of his pants. His erection was

  enormous and crooked, leaning to one side. It felt like he carried

  me on it as I was being picked up and taken to the bed.

  “No,” I whimpered, but even to me it sounded like “yes” and

  I wasn’t putting up much of a fight. Even as he climbed in between

  my legs placing on a condom, my futile resistance seemed to only

  excite and arouse him more. “Noooo …” My words were silenced

  with his kisses. He was in between my legs and his touch was as

  gentle as a feather. I was still saying “no” as he entered me slowly.

  The pain was excruciating. I never knew that hurt could feel so

  good.

  36

  L i f e

  “Hope,” he called my name like I was his goddess. With that,

  my legs spread and invited him into my kingdom–open sesame.

  “Hope, I just want to make love to you.” His words a murmur

  against my hot flesh as I moaned out loud in ecstasy. Slow and

  passionate were his loving strokes. He has not entered me fully as

  if to see if my body could withstand the length of his manhood.

  His short strokes were driving me crazy.

  “Hope, do you like this?” He eased deeper inside of me.

  “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I lamented praising Jesus, cursing out God as I

  road the ebb and flow of the torrent tide of his skillful lovemak-

  ing. He thrust deeper, testing my womanhood. I felt him going

  where no man had ever gone before, impaling what felt like my

  chest cavity. His strokes, even tempered, like he was measuring

  just how to love my body. As he reached his destination, I felt my