Disclaimers: See Chapter 1. Any other comments can be sent to me at bironel@gmail.com
Synopsis: A novella about the an insanely wealthy white woman's search for her soul mate and the debt ridden black woman writer, with a vivid imagination, who tries to keep out of her way.
A New Life
New Places and New Friends
Listening to the melancholy sounds of Charles Mingus, Goodbye Pork Pie Hat Nailah felt lonely inside the semi private train cabin she sat. Sitting on a fast moving train traveling from Seattle Washington to Vancouver British Columbia , Nailah looks out the window as the Pacific Northwest coast line quietly floats by. She notes the intricate colorful graffiti that peppered the landscape. Nailah could hear her Auntie complaint about how graffiti was visual rape. Nailah often thought any display advertisement whether it sold some disposable item you don't need or blasted the pride of some street gang was all visual rape.
Tired of her feelings of isolation and disconnection, Nailah adjusted the earphones from her iPod searching through the vast selection of music she uploaded to the device. She found a selection of Radiohead music re-dubbed as reggae music.
The music takes her back to the vast city she left two days ago. Nailah smiled as she recalled the conversation she had with her Auntie before she departed the only home she'd known since her college years.
-----
Standing in front of her Auntie's brownstone, the anger Nailah felt at being so easily duped, played with Nailah's fingers, making it difficult for her to work the house keys in her hand. She dropped them after numerous attempts to open the locks of the brownstone door. While she cursed her plight, Auntie quietly opened the locks from inside the home then stepped aside to let Nailah in.
Nailah crossed the threshold with a wrinkled manila envelope, anger shaken hands and eyelids overflowing with tears. She steps into outstretched arms and instantly she is six years old and all that is wrong in the world is made right with a warm, nurturing hug.
After a few moments, still clutching her manila envelope of notes, Nailah reluctantly pulls out of the safety of her Auntie's arms, wishing she could leave this adult nonsense behind and retreat back to the wonders of her childhood until a few unsavory memories of childhood drama left Nailah resolved to push forward into maturity.
Auntie spoke first: What's wrong? What happened?
Nailah: She... she fulfilled my darker predictions. Ones I kinda wish I was wrong about.
Auntie thought about Nailah's words as she regarded her niece. She was deeply fond of her dead brother's only child. She often looked upon Nailah's as her own daughter.
A frown of worry sat upon Auntie's forehead as her mind examined the various potential scenarios of how things could play out for Nailah. None of which seemed favorable. Auntie thought that the arrangement the rich woman made with Nailah was legitimate when Nailah was being paid.
Nailah: Our arrangement... over my book... is at an end. I am not for sale for any price.
Auntie: She told you that she no longer wants to work on your book?
Nailah: I no longer want HER to work with me on my book. Gotta get outta here! Somewhere health care is cheap or at best free.
Auntie spoke her wisdom: Then you should be the one to finally end the pact between you.
Nailah looked down at her Auntie, since she towered over her a good three feet.
Auntie clarified: You need to protect yourself. The only way to do that is to end it because you clearly aren't getting what you need from it.
Nailah (whined): The main question is what do I do about my book. I could publish it myself. But I can't do it here. Not in this city! She knows too many people in that community here. Some of them were at her loft tonight doing… I don't think you want to know what they were doing.
Auntie (smiled): Girl I didn't get this age without learning about the dirty and dark things folks like to do to each other. I probably know more about it than you do.
Nailah (indignantly): I don't want to know about any of that!
Auntie: Perhaps you should show some interest in those darker things then you won't be so shocked by the things that people do.
Nailah pouted.
Auntie: Anyway, you can do anything you set your mind to. Lucky for you there are more places to recreate yourself on this lovely planet.
Nailah watched as her Auntie walled over to the bookcase and pulled from the shelf a large atlas. The atlas was so large and heavy that Nailah rushed to help her Auntie retrieve it. Nailah followed Auntie into the living room with the atlas.
Auntie sat down on her favorite chair and rested her reading glasses on the end of her nose. Auntie gestured to Nailah to give her the book. As soon as Auntie got the atlas in her lap, she spanned the world as she leafed through the pages.
Nailah sat down on the plush carpet by her Auntie's feet.
Nailah (pouted): I wouldn't be able to survive in the third world… they don't have a stable internet.
Auntie: We have family all over the place. Now lets see. We need to stick to places where they speak English or some variant there of.
Auntie turned a few pages. Nailah turned her nose up at the European continent.
Nailah: Isn't it cold there?
Auntie turned a few pages and her gaze landed on a page of considerable interest. Nailah watched her Auntie's expressive face as the older women digested the information she slowly scanned on the page.
Auntie: What about here? You can't beat the beauty. Natural rainforest. Vast Ocean. And the mountains, so majestic. And I will have a wonderful place to go to visit with you.
Nailah: Doesn't it rain alot there?
Auntie: Invest in umbrellas. You can coordinate them with your wardrobe. Besides, we have a cousin who owns a famous exclusive seafood restaurant up there.
Nailah: I don't eat fish and I don't know much about the restaurant business.
Auntie: You know how to eat, what to eat and what not to eat. That's probably all you need to know and he can show you the rest, besides you'll probably be more useful writing for the restaurant.
Nailah: So when can we make this happen.
Auntie: I'll make a few phone calls.
Auntie left the living room as Nailah studied the map and general facts of her, soon to be, new home.
-----
Nailah turned off her iPod, wrapped up its headphone wires and settled into her seat, drawing a comfy blanket up around her legs to forestall drafts of cold air when other passengers moved through the train cabin. She looked down at the closed laptop resting on her thighs. She smiled a knowing smile that her novel was secure on the hard drive of the lap top.
Nailah securely stowed away the lap top in her knapsack, resting the highly cushioned bag behind her as she pressed her back against it. This way anyone who wanted to steal her most prized possession would have to wake her to get it.
She laid her head against a small pillow propped up against the window and closed her eyes.
Nailah was just at the threshold of a deep sleep when she heard someone call her name. She opened her eyes bewildered to see the elderly woman Jo, she met in the movie theater months ago standing in the aisle smiling down at her.
Jo: My goodness! Imagine my surprise seeing you here!
Nailah: Wow Jo? Is it really you? What are you doing here?
At that moment a short surly looking Latina woman stood beside Jo and made her commandments.
Pascal: Madam we should get back to our seats. We have to fill out our visa paperwork before we arrive in Canada .
Jo: Pascal we will do that later. (Addressing Nailah) Are you on vacation?
Nailah: Kinda.
Jo: Vancouver is a beautiful city, you'll enjoy it.
Nailah: You've been here before?
Jo: Oh yes I came here many years ago. I met to love of my life here when I was a young woman.
Jo sat down beside Nailah as she recounted the zany adventures of her youth. Nailah smiled silently, listening happily, traveling into the unknown with someone she knew.
Nailah listened as Jo recounted the turbulent youth in Vancouver as a rebellious co-ed. Jo met up with an industrious young African American young man who was attending the new Simon Fraser University which opened in Burnaby . He was focused on studying engineering while his fellow students' creative attentions were vested in protests against the war in Vietnam , peace rallies and marches.
Nailah was regaled by stories of how the "hippies" appeared and made Vancouver's West 4th Avenue their neighborhood and the how Jo witnessed the birth of the world's preeminent environmental activist group, Greenpeace, which was created in a friend's living room.
Even though the era was marred by political protests Jo and her British Columbia friends were never without a cause for partying.
Jo: ...and so we had to escape through the alleyways to evade the police. Just image the trouble we would have gotten into if we had gotten caught. You would have been laughing if you could have seen me running with those heels on. We ran into the district of the city were the more unsavory people tended to congregate. My boyfriend's plan was to lose ourselves in the midst of them and wasn't he just brilliant. We confused the police and found ourselves in the deserted tourist area laughing at our luck. He was so handsome in the moonlight. I wanted him desperately and let me tell you, I had him many times over that exciting month when my family vacationed up there.
Nailah hid her blush behind the clearing of her throat.
Nailah: What happened to him?
Jo: He was glorious. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him but those days interracial couples were frowned upon. I didn't care but he was very cautious. He had many horrible experiences in America which was why he moved to British Columbia . There weren't many Black people in this part of Canada so he was able to make a success of his move. But he never forgot how ugly folks can be and that made him very cautious about pursuing me.
Nailah: So what happened?
A tiny alarm went off and Pascal, still standing, hovering over both Nailah and Josephine raised her arm to look at her wristwatch.
Pascal: Madam it's time for your medication.
Jo: You take them. It's not like you haven't made a profit from my the management of my various illnesses.
Pascal rolls her eyes. She would have preferred Madam to be lightly dozing so she could go and chat up the truly buff train conductor she spotted when they embarked on the train at the station in Seattle . However she could get a couple of hundred extra off the pills that Madam refused to take so she continued to stand waiting for her employer to return back to their assigned seats.
Nailah: I didn't realize! You are sick Jo?
Jo: Nothing terminal. Normal chronic stuff that would probably be eliminated if I lived a healthier life. But what is the fun in that?
Nailah: You should take better care of yourself, Jo.
Jo: I've lived a full, exciting life. No regrets so I'm not about to be cautious now.
Nailah (repeats): So what happened to the cautious love of your life?
Jo: I proposed to him. He said no and left me. I was devastated. So I married the very next man who gave me some excitement. Who made me feel special. I met and married my husband in a whirlwind romance of two weeks.
Nailah: Did you ever hear anything about your first love after that?
Jo: For years after my husband died, I refused to search for him. I felt that he abandoned me. Then battling my daughter and her selfishness ate up many years. (Leans closer to Nailah): I'm recapturing my youthful ways. The reason I am making this journey is to find out what happened to him. I'm prepared to visit his grave site.
Nailah: He died?
Jo: I really don't know if he is dead. I did hire a private detective agency to find out anything they could about him. All I do know is that he married. His wife died over twenty years ago and he never remarried.
Nailah: So you're looking for...
Jo: ...closure. That's what you young people are always saying.
Nailah (bloats): I don't need closure. As I see it, you can't force things. They either work or they don't. I'll give difficult the old elbow grease technique once, maybe twice. After that I'm convinced I didn't need it and will just walk away.
Jo: I should adopt your life perspective. It seems so stress free.
Nailah: Too much stress will kill ya.
Jo: So that's why you're taking a vacation? To lessen the stress in your life?
Nailah: Yeah something like that.
Jo: Once I get my affairs in order I will be free to catch up on some movies. I'm staying at the Blue Horizon on Robeson Street .
Nailah: You have got to be kidding me! I'm staying there also. What a coincidence!
Jo: Some things are just fated to be.
The Family Business
After she disembarked from the train and stood in the long line to have her passport and work visa stamped, Nailah waited in a line for a taxi. She looked around and didn't see Jo nor her dour attendant Pascal. She would have shared a taxi with them since they were all going to the same hotel. But she didn't see them and after waving the fifth cab off she caught the sixth one allowing the driver to put her bags in the trunk.
Nailah was excited as the city of Vancouver revealed itself through the clear windows of the taxi. She listened to the cab driver having a semi-private conversation on his bluetooth headphone. Noting the change in the drivers' demeanor Nailah noted the conversation wasn't going in the driver's favor. She made a silent plea that she arrived at her destination safely.
-----
Nailah examined the free toiletries in the shiny bathroom. She retrieved an unopened bottle of Lysol cleaner and an unused sponge from her bag and began to clean the bathroom throughly.
Once Nailah finished her tasks in the bathroom she took out the local newspaper out from her bags that she brought at the train terminal and she took out her lap top and connected it to the free wifi in her room.
Nailah wrote down the address and directions to the bank closest to her hotel. Then she took a page off the free hotel note pad and wrote in a brief note in her distinctive script. She folded the note and placed it in a free hotel stationary envelope.
Nailah looked through the newspaper to find rentals to check out those she could afford. Then she called the number her Auntie gave her to reconnect with a distant relative who was enthusiastic to meet with Nailah. She made arrangements to meet with her estranged second cousin later in the evening for dinner.
Once Nailah settled her belongings she left her hotel room. When she arrived in the lobby she approached the concierge desk to make specific inquiries.
Nailah: I'd like to leave a note for another hotel guest but I don't know her last name. She's elderly. Her name is Josephine and she is traveling with her attendant, a middle aged Latina named Pascal.
Concierge: I checked in a couple just as you described but I can't help you if you don't have the guest's last name.
The concierge checks the computer display screen. Then she looks up at Nailah.
Concierge: I can't give you any further information about this guest.
Nailah: That's okay I just wanted to leave her a note. We travelled up here on the same train and we missed each other.
Nailah handed a sealed envelope to the concierge who took it and placed it in a cubby hole labeled Zanier.
Nailah took note of the name and exited the hotel to meet with her cousin. She walked up Robeson Street taking note of how much it resembled the major commercial strip in the city of her birth.
Nailah turned down the first corner and easily found the seafood restaurant as her cousin described. She stepped through the ornate wood and glass doors to enter into a plush atmosphere. The restaurant was alive with conversation from both the diners, the sounds of forks clinging against the plates and the anticipatory mood of the line of people waiting.
Nailah (approaching the restaurant Maître d): Excuse me. I'm supposed to be meeting John.
Maître d: John? (Looks down at her reservation list): I don't have any John's on the list. If you want me to put your name down the wait is one hour.
Nailah: One hour???
She notices the calm demeanor on the people waiting on line to be served.
Nailah: The food must be amazing here.
Maître d (proudly): JB's is the best seafood restaurant in all of Vancouver . We've been open since the 1930's. In the 1960's the restaurant came under new management and has been a celebrated landmark of the city ever since. Do you want me to add your name to the list?
Nailah: I'm supposed to meet my cousin John here.
Maître d: You're cousin? Wait are you Niobe?
Nailah (corrects): Nailah.
Maître d: I'm sorry no one calls him John any more. I'll have you seated immediately.
The Maître d snaps her conservatively manicured fingers and various people on the line stare at Nailah wondering who she is. This made Nailah very nervous. She didn't enjoy alot of attention from crowds of people. The uneasy sensation took her back to childhood memories when cruel children delighted in tormenting the shy and introspective Nailah during her school days.
A waiter arrived and escorted Nailah to a private dining room where an elderly black man with salt and pepper afro and matching stylish goatee stood up from a round table with a cloth table cloth and opulent table setting for two displayed.
He came from around the table to greet Nailah with a large full body hug. He withdraw from the embrace which squeezed precious air from Nailah's lungs with a smile on his face.
Nailah: Cousin John Brian??
JB: Call me JB. Everyone does.
Nailah: This is your restaurant?
JB: I'm retired. My sons run it now. You will meet with your cousins after our dinner. I hope you like seafood.
Nailah: I will try to eat anything you have prepared, Cousin JB.
JB: That's right that side of the family didn't eat flesh. I do hope you try the fish. The salmon is so fresh and there are various species out here that you don't get on the east coast.
Nailah and her cousin JB sat down as waiter's placed salad and soup before them.
JB: The soup is tomato based. There is coho salmon in it. A lighter taste than most salmon from the East Coast. Not so oily. So little cousin, I was surprised to hear from Camilla. She usually calls around the holidays or when there is a death in the family. The last time I saw you, was at Uncle Red's funeral, the old scoundrel. You were ten years old. I wasn't able to make it to Aunt Ethyl's 115th birthday, six years ago but my sons went. Kyland brought his wife and children. Seun, my oldest joined him. You may not remember them.
Nailah: I was at that birthday party but I was preoccupied with grad school so I really didn't register anyone who was there.
JB: Still into books? You used to carry a box of comic books around with you everywhere when you were a child. I thought you were going to become an artist.
Nailah: I just loved the stories.
JB: So that's what you're doing now... writing stories?
Nailah: I've just finished my first novel. I just have to get it published. That's why I came out here.
JB: I don't know much about that industry but we could find a use for you here at the restaurant until you sell your book.
Nailah: I really appreciate that Cousin JB.
JB: That's what family is for Nailah. Seun runs the restaurant while Kyland manages the marketing so they will come up with something where you will be useful here. Have you found a place to stay? Hotels can be expensive.
Nailah: I got a really good package for a week at the Horizon and I have found a few rentals to check out later in the newspaper.
JB: Oh no we can find you better accommodations than anything you can find in the paper. I've spoken with Camilla. You plan to relocate here permanently?
Nailah: My immediate plan is to stay up here for a few years. If I can make a go of it then I'm in for the duration. I like what I've seen so far.
While she didn't like the texture of the bits of fish flesh floating in her soup, the seasonings used were flavorful enough that Nailah made a note to incorporate this taste into her surprise veggie casserole.
As she drank a bit of water, Nailah heard two male voices loudly disagreeing just outside the private dining room to which she and her elder cousin were in.
From behind the closed curtain emerged two very tall and very familiar men. One was heavy-set and resembled a younger cousin John, his name was Seun, the other man was younger, thinner and balder, and his name was Kyland.
Kyland: How else you think we're gonna finance the expansions?
Seun: We're not taking any more loans.
Kyland: It's not a loan dumb ass. It's refinancing.
JB: Watch your mouth boy a lady's present. Your distant cousin at that.
Kyland (Addressing Nailah): Apologies.
Nailah: I've heard and spoke worse, myself.
Kyland: Daddy can your explain it to this blockhead. We're are not taking out a loan, we're borrowing from ourselves.
JB: I'm retired. You all can settle it amongst yourself later. Right now we got family in need. Seun you get her settled at the house.
Nailah: You don't need to put me up at your home. I want to maintain my own place. All my life I lived with Auntie or at college then back to Auntie's. I need to maintain my own place for a change.
JB: Don't fret. It isn't my personal home. Just one of a few town houses that I own and rent and I do expect rent, even from family. Seun rents one on the property.
Seun: Hey little cousin. I glad you got here safe and sound. I went to pick you up at the airport today. We didn't realize you were arriving by train. You should have let us arranged a better hotel than the Horizon.
Nailah: The Horizon is in my budget.
Seun: Dad said you weren't up here for a visit. What are you going to do for work up here?
JB: She's gonna work with you two. She's a writer. She wrote a book.
Kyland: This ain't no publishing company!
JB: You can use her skills.
Kyland: I thought you were retired old man.
Seun: Shut up Ky! She can work in marketing. (Addressing Nailah) You have any business experience?
Nailah: I did study some business coursework.
Kyland: What do you mean she can work in marketing? Marketing is fully staffed.
Seun: Now you'll have someone actually working WITH you in marketing the restaurant rather than just “working” UNDER you after hours.
Kyland: You're not without secrets yourself twinkle toes.
JB: That's it! I've had enough! Kyland everyone knows you're having an affair with your assistant. Even your wife, Jamyla knows about the affair. The reason no one says anything about it is that Jamyla doesn't care about it. But she now has a free pass to cheat on you, if she chooses. And you'll take it like a man if she does Ky. You better hope she doesn't find someone better than you. As for you Seun, I've known you were gay since you were eight years old. I've lamented and cursed the fates a long time ago. Now I just want my sons to be happy and successful.
JB took a drink of water while his sons stood stunned.
JB: Seun bring that lawyer around so I can smoke the fool out to see if he's worthy of my eldest' affections. I don't care if you're a grown man, I ain't too retired to know immediately if he ain't the right one, he's history. Ky, if you want to makeup your transgressions to Jam it's gonna take more than flowers. She is a woman after all. Without a doubt, the assistant has to go. I hate secrets and this family isn't gonna implode because of them. Am I clear?
Kyland and Seun (Shocked): Yes Daddy.
JB: Besides have you forgotten rule number one? When your mother was alive these rules were never broken. What is rule number one?
Seun: No drama during dinner. It screws up digestion.
JB: Exactly.
JB winks at Nailah who smiles noting how familiar her elder cousin's resolution to the quickly escalating sibling crisis closely resembled her Auntie's way of dealing with things. A feeling of homesickness tinged Nailah's smile.
A Shot Across the Bow
Nailah's left foot was numb.
She looked down at her sensory dead appendage and grimaced at her newest betrayer. Her padded butt was numb as she pedaled and pedaled along the long, broad and winding heavy trafficked East 49th Street . She pedaled hard all the way from her townhouse apartment on Hurst Street in Burnaby .
After a week of looking at rentals and settling in as Kyland's assistant in marketing her cousin's restaurant, Nailah had settled on a townhouse apartment owned by her Cousin JB on Hurst Street in Burnaby .
Fueled by annoyance and anger, Nailah continued in discomfort on her bike trip to nowhere. Her foot had lost all sensation when she coasted down Granville Street .
Nailah finally noticed she was quickly running out of road as she biked through Stanley Park ending up at Third Beach , located at the southwestern part of the rainforest park on the northern edge of downtown Vancouver .
She parked, the reconditioned Trek 7600 road bike she brought off an addict near the park rest stop, securing it with a thick chain and locking before hobbling off on uncooperative lower limbs down to the sandy coast towards the pacific shoreline.
She sat on a large log and watched the surf drifting in and out, lulled by the sounds of the tides, while contemplating the current mess of her life.
My a-double scribble is screaming , her initial mental complaint was quickly followed by a barge of stream of consciousness and internal dialogue between Nailah and her various selves.
Detective Nailah: You biked all the way out here and now we got to bike all the way back home... all of it up hill, I might add. Probably won't get back until late. It'll probably be breakfast when we get back home.
I'm trying to get into shape. That's my story and I'm sticking to it, thought Nailah.
Hood Rat Nailah: This is bananas! We ain't biking all the way back just ‘cause some thieving rich chick stole our book. It wasn't like we didn't suspect this was the deal from jump. Surprised it ain't happen sooner. We gonna get justice after this mark my words. Justice.
Silencio ! Nailah intoned.
A jogger on the beach stopped jogging, standing directly in front of Nailah and stared at her: I didn't say anything, he replied.
Nailah: I wasn't talking to you.
The jogger looked around noting that only he and this young black woman sitting on a log with rather long legs extending from what looked like biking shorts were the only two people on the beach. Then he noted that the woman didn't have any bluetooth device attached to her ears so she couldn't have been engaged in a conversation on a mobile phone. He quickly arrived at the conclusion the poor young woman was schizophrenic.
He looked at the long toasted honey legs wondering how they'd look in stockings and heels. Women were made for stocking and heels, he thought before his eyes slowly drifted up landing on soft mounds of the young woman breast then upward into a brown gaze of annoyance. He quickly resumed jogging moving swiftly away from the long legged schizoid.
Nailah watched as the jogger disappeared behind the sand dunes. She sighed as she resumed watching the waves crash into the shoreline. Her mind temporarily empty of all thoughts and internal dialogue, until she remembered.
Nailah grimaced as she recalled the shock of seeing Amanda on a TV show. Still a few pounds over weight. Hawking Nailah's book as her own work! Tears rolled down her cheeks as Nailah recalled how speechless she was as she watch the events unfold on a talking heads show two days ago.
Fifteen Minutes and Counting...
Amanda sat down in the seat next to the glamorous interviewer, Crystal Divine, mesmerized by her captivating grey eyes. She planned to get know this beautiful woman intimately after the taping of the show.
Crystal Divine (looking into the camera): In my hot little hands is the next great novel from a a new author and only heir of a international publishing dynasty, Amanda De Klerk-Zwart. Not quite the great American novel, this book as caused quite a buzz. So many favorable reviews. So tell me Amanda... May I call you Amanda?
Amanda: Please by all means.
Crystal Divine: Amanda, other heiresses live in the lap of luxury never feeling the need to produce anything. What was it that made you rebel from your social class and... work?
Amanda: What work? I just hired a secretary to type and organize my thoughts. I had a blast writing it.
Amanda turned to the audience with a million watt smile. The audience inanely clapped as though Amanda fostered long lasting sustainable peace in the middle east, cured cancer and figured out a way to sell a package of hot dog buns that equal the quantity of a package of hot dogs.
Crystal Divine: Excellent stuff. (Trying to look like a serious journalist) Your main character is truly an universal one in that you don't give the reader your character's name nor do you define the sex of your main character. How difficult was it to maintain this enigma throughout the book?
Amanda: My main idea was to give everyone who read the novel access through the main character by having the reader define who he or she is.
Crystal Divine: So who is your main character? Is she a he or he a she?
Amanda: You tell me.
Crystal Divine: How long did it take for you to write it?
Amanda: Six months.
Crystal Divine: That's a fast turn around. So what's next? Are you going to write another book?
Amanda: I don't like being tied to one trick.
Crystal Divine: You are rich, attractive and multitalented... people must hate you.
Amanda: It's not my job to dull my shine to make other people feel comfortable about their inadequacies.
Crystal Divine: Amazing. (Speaks directly into the main camera) We'll be back right after a few words from our sponsors.
When the studio cameras turn off, thousands of miles away Nailah has a very bad meltdown in her newly decorated Pacific Northwest apartment livingroom, and back in the studio Amanda leaned closer to Crystal , to whisper in her ear.
Amanda: So how do you like them?
Crystal Divine: My producer gave me a three page synopsis so I can't say how I like it yet. I do plan to read it though.
Amanda: I'm not talking about the book. I was asking how you like your eggs?
Crystal Divine (coyly): Whatever for?
Amanda: It isn't good form to let a lady go home the next day without offering a decent breakfast.
Crystal Divine: Listen I'm already in a situation. I don't want any complications.
Amanda: Sex is never complicated... with me. Pleasurable, but not complicated.
Crystal Divine: I strayed once and I don't plan on doing that again so...
Amanda (winked): I just want to briefly enjoy your company. Trust me the enjoyment would be mutual. There's nothing complicated in that.
-----
In a darken, isolated area of the TV studio, Amanda leans up against Crystal Divine's breasts. Amanda deliberately grazing them. Crystal Divine groans, barely audible.
Crystal Divine shocked, rationalizes that she cannot be accountable for her actions. When aroused the body wants what the body wants, gender be damned, as her mouth and nose nuzzles Amanda's neck.
She arched her neck beneath Crystal Divine lips. Mesmerized by the way her neck curves, Crystal Divine decides to worship it with her tongue. Amanda stiffens. With the flow of the music only in Amanda's head, Amanda moves their bodies to her own rhythm. And so does Crystal Divine.
Moved by the rushing of her blood, they press their bodies tight abdomen against abdomen, their hands move, gliding over gyrating curves and rounded softness. Crystal Divine grabs one of Amanda's wandering hands, roughly thrusting it between her legs, her moans begging Amanda to release her, on the dimly lit studio floor.
Crystal Divine, eyes closed, struggles to muffle the releasing scream raging inside of her.
Amanda smirks, pleased with herself how quickly she was able to seduce the popular entertainment newscaster. Amanda's aim now was to get the woman to loudly vocalize her release. Finally unable to fight it, Crystal Divine opened her mouth and...
-----
Nailah screamed and screamed as she watch the smug Amanda on television taking all the credit for HER novel. She looked over at her closed lap top realizing that the interview she scheduled to get an agent to read her novel was now a mute point.
How the hell did SHE get her hands on one of the final drafts of MY book? Nailah wondered. Nailah knew she had all the files of her book on the laptop before she left.
Hood Rat Nailah: Someone is gonna be missing something vital, very soon.
Detective Nailah: Violent retribution is highly unlikely given that we al all the way up north more that three thousand miles away from that book thief!
Impotent with rage, Nailah did the only thing that came to her mind... to run.
Gotta get outta here! Gotta get away! was the mantra repeating in her head as she got her biking gear together and took off in the the urban streets of British Columbia .
-----
Sitting on the beach, watching the sun slowly set, Nailah rubbed her last tear away as it floated down the skin crease between her cheek and her nose. She rubbed it because it made her cheek itch, which made her nose itch and then her chin was uncomfortable as well as her pink, brown eyes.
Nailah felt a presence and she removed her knuckles rubbing her closed eyes to see who had invaded her space. She looked next to her on the large log where she sat to find a young tall black male sitting next to her on the log.
He smiled at her then rustled in his knapsack which rested on the sand besides his legs to remove a sandwich wrapped in a clear plastic sheet.
It's a peanut butter sandwich , Nailah discerned, as the smell arose when the young man opened the plastic wrapping to take a bite.
Nailah looked around and noted numerous areas for one to sit to eat a meal all around her. These places were in better locations along the beach and they were empty.
Hood Rat Nailah: I'm not alright with people invading my personal space. Real talk, Dude is about to get dusted. I'm ain't about to be trifled with after the book stealing wench fiasco.
Nailah's stomach growled.
Nailah: Yo hommie, there are other places around here you could have sat.
George: Oh Hi. My name is George not Hommie. Do I look like your friend Hommie?
Nailah: I'm using universal urban speak commonly known among the diaspora. You've never heard of it?
George: I'm just messing with you. I sat here because this was the only occupied place. I thought it was probably the best place on the beach to watch the ocean. It is the best spot. I also kinda noticed you were crying so I thought I could be of some help, if you needed it.
Nailah: Well George, my name is Nailah and I appreciate you being neighborly and all but sometimes when a women's eyes are overly moist to the point of her potential drowning, she probably wants to be left alone.
George: Duly noted. Considering that drowning would probably be more effective in that ocean over there then by sheer force of crying, I'm still here if that self-destructive sentiment dissipates.
Shocked, Nailah looked at George, blinked then she laughed. He laughed too.
George: Nailah is a pretty name. What does it mean?
Nailah: It's an Egyptian name which means successful or “one who attains”.
George: Why is such a successful woman, my wife to be, so sad?
Nailah: Are you so desperate for company you chat up crying women?
George: It's all part of my charm. If I can make a formerly upset woman, again my wife to be, that would be you, happy, I'm good as gold.
Nailah: Doesn't that reveal, sort of torpedo your chances with me.
George: Nah. I'm coming off as slightly quirky but honest so I'm good.
Nailah: I can't fault you for your optimism.
George smiled and Nailah's stomach growled. He offered her a half of his peanut butter sandwich, which she gratefully accepted. As she chewed, she murmured slightly in pleasure. George was amused by the sounds Nailah made. He thought of such sounds being produced in a more intimate setting between himself and Nailah, smiling broadly.
George: You're the perfect woman. Nice Body. Leggy, you appreciate off beat humor and you're a cheap date. Would you marry me?
Detective Nailah: He's part of the African diaspora. Check plus. Kinda cute. Check. Taller than us. Check. Speaks clearly. Check. Nice Teeth. Clear eyes. Nice skin tone. Sparse body hair. Quadruple check. Neatly dressed. Check. Cheap. Minus. Gainfully employed. No data available.
Hood Rat Nailah: If home-boy got it going on in the bedroom, we can negotiate the questionable.
Detective Nailah: We are not getting involved with a yet another weirdo. Our synapses can't take the strain.
Hood Rat Nailah: It's been a long, long, long time since we got our collective swerve on. That's why it's all analytical and logical up in this head. Like our favorite pedophile says “Ain't nothing wrong with a little bump and grind.”
Detective Nailah: You're quoting pedophiles?
Hood Rat Nailah: Truth is truth. Don't hate the source. I'm just saying.
He is kinda cute in an annoying way and I did forget about the thieving wench for a few minutes, so he gets a triple check score, thought Nailah.
Nailah: Let's survive our first date before we plan a life together.
George (wiggling his eyebrows): So what you want for breakfast?
Nailah: Slow your roll Mr. Compassionate and Cheap. You're in the probation stage. Any signs of insanity and you're out of contention for any life changing plans.
George: Duly noted. How long does this probational period last, in your estimates?
Nailah: That question lessens its duration.
George: Sweet!
Nailah rises from her perch and stretches abused ligaments and joints into mobility. George stands and brushes errant sand off of his pants. Nailah trudges through the sand towards her two wheeled mount. When she reaches the bike rack she stoops down to unlock her bike and secure the lock on her bike rack.
George: You biked here?
Nailah: Yes another one of my successful ideas. I need my head examined. How'd you get here?
George: I walked.
Nailah: I biked all the way from Burnaby .
George: Burnaby ? You're joking!
Nailah: I wish I was.
George: That's a long ride but what surprises me is that I live in Burnaby , near Maywood Park on Silver Avenue . You came all the way out here. You must be in great shape!
Nailah: Great shape please. If I survive the trip back I'll probably be maimed for life. In strategically vital bodily locations. You really live in Burnaby ?
George: Yep. Instead of hoping on your trusty steed and riding out into the sunset, breaking my heart, how about we talk and walk. We can get you and your bike to the Skytrain at Burrard Street . It only nine blocks away. I get off at Metrotown.
Detective Nailah: He gets off on the same stop we would! We aren't seriously going to go with this man we've just met? A strange unknown man with questionable data!
Hood Rat Nailah: We don't know if he has money and is cheap or unemployed. That doesn't mean dude is a serial killer. He is cute. Besides if he tries anything serial killer-like, we just run him over with the bike. It's a decent weapon when handled right.
Nailah: Lead the way.
-----
Jo arrived at the vegetarian restaurant on Commercial Drive by a private car service. She alighted from the vehicle with some assistance from the driver. She tipped the driver generously then stepped onto the sidewalk to enter an upscale vegetarian restaurant.
She was a bit late but she didn't see her young friend Nailah waiting at the bar so she approached the female hostess.
Hostess: Good Evening.
Jo: I am meeting a friend here tonight, a Ms. Nailah Brown.
Hostess: Yes I'll lead you to your party.
As Jo walked towards through the main dining area of the eclectic, hip restaurant, the delicious smells wafted up to her nose stimulating her appetite.
She followed the hostess to a private dinning room and entered, shocked to find her young friend Nailah wearing a neck brace, smiling sheepishly up at her as she sat at their table.
Jo rushed over to the table and inquired: What happened to you?
Nailah: Long, embarrassing story.
Jo sat down smiling.
Jo: Those are the best kind.
Nailah reached for her glass of water with a little difficulty and took a sip.
Nailah: I'm glad you made it. I'm sorry I missed you at the train station.
Jo: I had a few custom issues to resolve with Pascal. That women is more trouble that she is worth, I swear. I got your note. Now you have to tell me how in two weeks you sprain your neck!
Nailah: Wouldn't you rather read the menu? The food is good here. The veggies are decent, not over cooked. And every other item on the menu isn't some innovative derivative of soy.
The waiter arrived and took the women's meal orders, leaving them with beverages, a vodka tonic with lime for Jo and a cup of Rooibos tea with hints of cherry and vanilla for Nailah.
Nailah took a sip of her tea and sighed with pleasure. Jo eyed Nailah over her tall cocktail. She rested it on the table keeping her eyes on Nailah.
Jo: You must tell me what happened.
Nailah: I met this guy named George. You know what I just realized? I didn't order appetizers! Do you want to try the stuffed italian sweet peppers?
Jo: I'm an old woman Nailah, death approaches quicker for me than you!
Nailah (mumbles): Not if you're dating me. He's nice and funny. Tall. Well taller than me so I guess that's something special too.
Jo: Men should be taller.
Nailah: I don't know about that but they should be more.
Jo: More what?
Nailah: More than me.
Jo: Stop stalling. Dish.
Nailah chuckles nervously as she recalls how she got the neck brace in her various dates with George over the past two weeks.
Date Number One
Nailah wanted, needed to have something more hopeful to occupy her mind then to waste time about the book she wrote, was grossly underpaid for, and that was stolen from her.
She was resolved that Karma would pay Ms. Amanda De Klerk-Zwart a long overdue visit. She prayed for that retribution even if she wasn't around to witness it. So she spent the evening after George walked her and her bike to her new home, getting ready for her date with George the next day.
On their ride home on the Skytrain, Nailah learned that George's full name was George Eugene Bowman. He was forty-one years old, never married but close numerous times and no children that he knew of. He worked as an IT administrator for an animation company and he lived with a strange roommate who worked nights named Vincent, who happened to be the younger brother of his ex-fiance, Sherry, in a posh condo townhouse.
Since George planned a daytime sports activity date Nailah assembled an outfit that was both outdoorsy yet cute. She had just joined the local sporting goods cooperative and had gotten a few cute outfits she could bike in and hang out comfortably. George had planned for them to do a bit of biking, exploring the other side of the Lions Gate bridge to discover the secrets of Northern Vancouver, where they would picnic.
Nailah planned to wear her khaki baggy liner biking shorts that weren't very baggy on Nailah's thicker frame and a shrimp colored cap sleeve jersey. She packed a light jacket and some tire repair supplies, a simple first aid kit, a hand air pump, two chocolate vegan food bars, her cellphone with GPS, a map of the bike trails in North Vancouver, extra emergency cash and a few packs of condoms into the main compartment of her shrimp colored Camelback™ Hydration backpack. She planned to get some sleep thinking that they would be biking a long distance to get their destination.
The next morning bright and energy, before Nailah's shower and first cup of tea, George arrived at Nailah's apartment with his Specialized™ road bike hitched on a hitch-mounted bike rake on the back of a pimped out black Scion Xb™.
Nailah's annoyance soon faded as she stepped out of her hot shower and quickly dressed.
Detective Nailah: Aren't you glad I suggested we prepare the night before?
Hood Rat Nailah: Look as long as we get our rocks off or rocked I don't care how early he gets here. If he got here any earlier he could have been our go to guy last night instead of...
Nailah (groused): Will you two shut up!
Nailah grabbed her thermos of tea from the fridge and her hydration backpack and bounded out the front door, locking it before turning to face George, who was on the front step with an anticipatory grin.
Nailah: You're early. You should have called, given me the heads up so you wouldn't have to wait for me to get moving.
George: You're worth the wait. Besides I was too excited about exploring the other side of the bridge. All my other friends were never interested.
Nailah: You mean all your other dates weren't interested.
George loaded Nailah's bike on the bike rack and secured it with his own.
George: Just because they start out as dates don't mean they can't eventually become friends.
They jumped into the Scion and George took off into the early weekend morning listening to an eclectic mixtape of music George assembled to set the mood for the trip. He would smile when Nailah would inquire about bands and singers she had never heard of but liked. He smiled because he would surprise her with the CD that he mix especially for her.
Soon as they crossed the Lions Gate bridge, Nailah pulled out her bike trails map, as George quickly navigated the Scion to the base of Grouse Mountain and parked.
Nailah looked at the looming mountain, quickly scanned her bike map then she aimed a skeptical glance at George in the passenger side-view mirror who had jumped out the car and wrestled the bikes off the bike rake. She frantically looked at the map again.
Detective Nailah: Why don't they state the level of elevation on this thing. How high is this mountain anyway?
Hood Rat Nailah: On the mountain, in the car, I don't care as long as sex is had by all.
Detective Nailah: You think you're getting sex after we have to climb a mountain… on a bike? I don't think these padded shorts are gonna be enough to protect our lady parts for such fun times.
Hood Rat Nailah: We've gone entirely too long without. Let's say we have sex first, then we bike? This car looks roomy.
Detective Nailah: In the parking lot? He'll think we're a slut. It's better form to wait until the picnic portion of this date.
Hood Rat Nailah: We ain't gonna take him home for Auntie's approval. This is really a get back in the saddle kinda outing and I'm gonna be truly vexed if our saddle is sore from just biking!
Nailah: Will you two please be quiet so I can think!
Hood Rat Nailah: There will be no thinking on this date! Thinking is the anti-sex drug! We're having sex today, we need the release. When folks steal things from us, we need a release. Since we can't blow up the thieving witch's loft, sex is the next best option.
Detective Nailah: Why did you bring that up? I've been successful over the past few days of keeping that sorted tale out of our collective attention and you bring it up?
Hood Rat Nailah: I don't care what it takes we're having sex today!
George tapped on the window to get Nailah's attention. She hopped out the car grabbing her hydration knapsack and slipping it onto her back.
Nailah: George that over there is a mountain.
George (smiles): Yeah that it is.
Nailah: Where are we picnicking?
George: At the top.
Nailah: We have road bikes.
George: Yeah we do. The CD in the car is for you. I made it for you to listen to remind you of a great date.
Nailah: Really? I liked every song on it. I really did.
They smile coyly at each other. Nailah shakes her head and continues with her previous thought.
Nailah: Hmmm. To ride up a mountain don't you need a mountain bike? That has shocks and everything on it?
George: We're not riding up the mountain. We're going to get to the top, by riding around it. The trail we're taking is here on my map.
George takes a bike tail map out of the pocket of his black cargo pants. It's the same map Nailah has.
Nailah (rolls her eyes): It doesn't tell you the elevation of the trail. Have you done this trail before?
George: Nope but one of my ex-girlfriends did it with her husband and she said it was a breeze.
Nailah silently counts to ten as she formed the next question.
Nailah: I'm not being overly sensitive or anything but what kind of body type is this ex-girlfriend? Is she a round, kinda plump pretty girl or is she a triathlon competing hard body?
George: How'd you know she competes in triathlons? Look don't worry. There is the beginning of the trail over there. It's relatively flat and paved. Mountain bike trails are unpaved. Come on.
He hopped onto his bike.
George: I'll race you to the first mile mark.
Then the cheater took off.
Nailah grimaced as she hopped on her bike and raced off after him.
Hood Rat Nailah hummed with glee that they were racing off to a more private sex getting picnic area while Detective Nailah wondered just how relative was the flatness of this non-mountain bike trail.
-----
Nailah lost the race to the first mile mark but not because George cheated but because the paved path ended a quarter of a mile in and quickly became an obstacle course of rocks, large fallen branches and thick uprooted tree roots - the sort of trail commonly navigated on a mountain bike.
Nailah refused to push her road bike and opted to walk it around and over the more challenging aspects of the trail. She would have be pissed off when she finally reached George but the natural vista around her was too interestingly distracting to allow her mood to truly sour.
George on the other hand wasn't going to let a women beat him so he pushed his bike beyond it's physical limits and as a result he busted the chain and lost it along the trail. Having no gears made going down hill a breeze. Since the final quarter of the first mile of the trail was slightly down hill, he drifted to victory. George triumphantly waited for Nailah to join him as he took a long swing from his water bottle practically draining it.
Twenty minutes later Nailah emerged walking her bike, her gaze taking in the delights of the trees and the birds. She saw George wave at her up ahead and hurried to meet him.
George: I won. What's my reward?
Nailah: Reward? The race was waged without conditions so winning will have to be your only reward. Guess what I saw back there?
George: Not even a victory kiss?
Nailah: I would have given you a kiss for the CD but you insisted on racing.
Nailah's eyes light up as she recalled what she saw on the first mile of the bike trail.
Nailah: I saw rabbits. A whole family of them. The babies and the mommy. Or the daddy. It was kinda big. They were so cute!
George: You didn't touch any of them did you?
Nailah: Of course not!
George: You've got to be careful out here. Somethings you don't want to touch. It could be lethal.
Nailah: I don't think they'd build a trail through anything potentially lethal. Oh by the way I think you may have dropped something.
Nailah deposited the greasy broken bike chain at George's feet. She cringed as she looked at the damage to the gears on George's bike that was caused by the chain being ripped off along the trail. George looked at the chain on the ground but waved it off.
George: I can make due.
Nailah: I don't think I can. I mostly walked my bike up the trail and-
She looked up ahead as the trail took a nose bleed steep incline.
Nailah (continues): My bike can go no further. It cursed at me the entire way up to this point. It may leave without me if we continue.
George (pouts): But I wanted to picnic with you up at the top of the mountain.
Nailah understood the disappointment of plans gone awry. She remembered her vow during that intrusive medical examination that thieving wench coerced her to submitted to, that she'd be more compassionate to men and not so dismissive as she had been in the past. Besides she really didn't want to let a good chance for sex get away from her. She was loath to hear her Hood Rat aspect complain should she fail to meet the objective.
Nailah: There has to be another way up the mountain so let's go back, lock up the bikes and take the alternate route. Besides, on this trail, I think you need gears.
George mulled it over then agreed with Nailah's suggestion. Nailah responded by placing a light kiss on George's still pouting lips. George smiled in a dazed sort of way.
George: So I do get a reward?
Nailah (coyly): Not for winning but for compromising. Come on lets go.
Nailah jumps on her bike and cautiously starts back down the trail as gear less George zips by her on his bike.
Detective Nailah: That kiss was like kissing cousin JB on the cheek.
Hood Rat Nailah: Didn't ring my bells either but he's a warm sexually mature body, who isn't blood kin. We can conjure up any fantasy to get the girls started, chemically speaking.
Detective Nailah: What do you know about chemicals?
Nailah: Silencio!
After loading the bikes back on the bike rack and locking them up, George and Nailah made their way to the Grouse Mountain Skyride, taking the tramcar to the top of the mountain.
When they reached the top of Grouse Mountain , Nailah was floored by the vista of downtown Vancouver and the surrounding area. Smiling she playful punched George in the arm.
Nailah: What made you think we were going to reach the top of this mountain by bike? Any time today?
George: My ex- Sherry did it.
Nailah: She's an elite athlete!
George: She's an actuary.
Nailah: Who is in shape enough to compete in triathlons!
George: Yeah but she still a…
Nailah: A what George?
George: Hmmm nothing important. We're up here earlier than I planned so why don't we pick out an area for our picnic.
Nailah: You were gonna say she's just a woman, weren't you?
George: I take the fifth.
They found a nice private spot area away from all the tourist areas which housed the various shows of wildlife on the mountain and the long line of folks waiting to do mountain paragliding.
George wanted to parasail when Nailah blurted out that she parasailed in the Caribbean during college. She was able to talk him out of it when she logically argued that falling in water, which happened to her when she parasailed, was a bit softer than falling on rocks, should gravity exert it's presence.
George pulled out a deceptively large synthetic blanket from the large pocket of his cargo shorts and set it down on a clear area of grass. He sat on it and held out his hand towards Nailah. She took it and sat down beside him.
George (smiled): So what's on the menu?
Nailah (perplexed): What?
George: What did you bring to eat?
Nailah: I didn't bring anything. I thought you were bringing something to eat.
George: You don't have food in your knapsack?
Nailah: This is a hydration pack. I have a full three liter water bladder in here, two vegan food bars and emergency stuff for the bike. I left my thermos of tea in the car. You planned the picnic. Isn't the one who planned the picnic supposed to be the one who brings the food?
George: How could you NOT bring food? You're the woman!
Nailah: So having breasts means I'm the goddess of the perpetual buffet?
George: We don't have anything to eat except some dry old food bars?
Nailah (corrects): You don't have anything to eat. I have two vegan food bars. I prepared for a meat centric meal.
George: You wouldn't share one of your bars with me?
Nailah: Not when one of us has these clearly defined roles in their head.
George: What are we supposed to do now?
Nailah stared menacingly at George then averted her gaze to examine the area. They were isolated from curious eyes. She turned back to look at George.
Nailah: We could have sex.
George: Okay.
George rushed to get his cargo pants and tee shirt off as Nailah lays back to observe him. George wasn't a greek god in the body department but he did have minimal body hair on his toasted honey body, for which Nailah was silently thankful. Body hair was always a turn off for her. She lifted up her bike jersey...
Seeing her bra cleavage, George literally jumped Nailah's bones before she could get her jersey completely off and the momentum propelled them both off the synthetic blanket, rolling along the grass picking up speed until they rolled over rocks and into a thick patch of trees and low thick shrubs.
Nailah laid dazed on the ground by the turn of events.
Detective Nailah: That's similar to the sex I remember but the rocks... not so much.
Hood Rat Nailah: This is not what I meant about getting our rocks off! Nor about getting rocked! News flash, rocks are banned from future attempts at sex. Banned I say!
All of Nailah concurred with this executive decision, as she painfully rose to her feet. Her back was a bit strained and she had a bruise on her knee. She looked around to see where lover-boy had ended up and grimaced in pain when she located him.
George was pined in a brush thick with thorns. Sharp black thorns. And George was wearing nothing but his socks, his boxer shorts and a face contorted in pain. The pain of a thousand skin pricks.
George (moaned): Can we go home now?
-----
Jo snorted her cocktail out her nose and laughed. She turned red laughing. She reached for her napkin to wipe her face. Nailah looked sheepishly at the table. Jo laughed so much that she began to cry, laughing.
Nailah: We could have been killed!
Jo: So that's how you got the neck brace?
Nailah: No.
Jo: What happened did you get into a fender bender on the way home?
Nailah: The ride home form the mountain was uneventful because I drove. George didn't want to go to a hospital, he just wanted to go home. So I tended to his wounds, cleaned him up the best I could given the circumstances. I decided to put a better first aid kit in my hydration pack from now on. I dropped George off at his apartment, met his strange roommate Vincent and helped him to his sofa. I left him to recuperate and biked home. What an exhausting day.
Nailah grimaced again. She looked up at Jo.
Nailah: We decided to have another date. A much tamer date, one I planned.
Date Number Two
Nailah arrived at JB's Restaurant early to make sure the arrangements she made for dinner were a success. She was able to get a private room for her and George.
Nailah checked on her outfit for the sixth time in the ladies room before George arrived at the restaurant. She wore a nice royal blue cocktail dress she picked up on sale from a boutique on Robeson Street . And a pair of blue earrings she found in a shop on Commercial Drive . She settled on wearing royal blue flats since George demonstrated he was ill at ease with women more anything than him.
Hood Rat Nailah: That's right. Placate the man until the deed is done. We're having sex tonight!
Detective Nailah: Is that all you obsess about? Sex, sex, sex. There are other ways we could release stress that don't involve such deceit. Men should be more we shouldn't have to pretend to be less.
Hoot Rat Nailah: Don't think I don't see through your plan to sabotage this! No thinking about obscure math concepts nor about the chasm of philosophy between men and women. I won't have you THINK us out of MY good time. Deceit is the historically best way in which men and women get together physically. That honesty and processing stuff is for the same sex coupling. Besides YOU wouldn't let me bomb Amanda's luxurious loft.
Detective Nailah: We would have been caught and gone to jail! Nope we would have been under the jail!
Hood Rat Nailah: But we would have been satisfied.
Detective Nailah: Yeah that satisfaction would have lasted as long as it took to avoid being gang raped by criminal bent lesbians.
Hood Rat Nailah: That's rich. You falling into bed with outdated stereotypes. News-flash Sherlock brown: Not all jails have Lesbos !
Detective Nailah: We're not gonna do anything to test that little hypothesis either.
Nailah: Mom! Dad! Please don't argue. Now help me get this date off the ground or sulk in silence!
When there were no internal comments forthcoming, Nailah left the restroom and had a selection of jazz playing softly in the background in the private dining room.
Nailah spied George as he arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes late. Thirty minutes late. She almost thought he wasn't going to show up. She entertained the thought that he was discouraged by their last disastrous outing. But when he showed up without calling her to alert her he would be delayed, that irked Nailah.
George looked Handsome in his dark blue jacket and khaki slacks. She wondered if his temporal tardiness was indicative of something disconcerting during sex, like if he was a premature ejaculator or if - She shuddered- he took too long!
Detective Nailah: Can we all agree the appearance of nipples is the actionable evidence of sex?
Hood Rat Nailah: The contract stipulates “There must be body-to-body rubbage.”
Detective Nailah: Wait when do YOU use words like “Stipulate”? And what contract, we didn't agree to any contracts?
Hood Rat Nailah: You must be rubbing off on me and it ain't sex until we rub one off on him or any equivalent. When WE all agreed sex was the end game that was the verbal contract we all agreed to.
Detective Nailah: I can't believe I'm agreeing to this farce.
Nailah waved to George who was scanning the restaurant. He smiled broadly when he saw her and made his way through the crowd towards her.
George: Sorry I'm late. To be honest I was kinda nervous.
Nailah: Nervous about what? I'm still a vegetarian so I won't bite. Not unless you want me too.
George: Well I was talking with my roommate, Vincent.
Nailah: The one who insists he's a vampire.
George: Yeah him. He says I should be careful about the threes.
Nailah: Threes? Is that some sort of vampiric thing?
The two made their way into their private dining room and the waiter assigned to their table seated them, took their drink order before leaving them alone. Nailah ordered a cranberry juice with seltzer water and a twist of lime while George ordered a hard cider.
George: This is nice. I've never been here before but I've heard of it.
Nailah: Oh goodness I should have asked before making plans! Do you like seafood?
George: I like fish and chips!
Nailah: I think they have that on the menu.
They both picked up their menus. Nailah settled on the salad and the soup which had bits of Coho salmon it in but she loved the taste of the soup. George saw the fish and chips but figured since he never ate at this restaurant that perhaps he should try something else. George also figured that since this dinner was Nailah's treat that he'd strike one for men everywhere and get the most expensive thing on the menu. He settled on the lobster tails.
George: The threes are when things happen in threes. You know famous people die in sets of three. Things happen the same way three times before the pattern changes. Vincent figures I was gonna get hurt two more times so I shouldn't go on any another dates with you.
Nailah frowned. If the roommate thought she was bad news that really put a damper of the procurement of sex. Then she realized some men will have sex with women they can't stand so perhaps the evening will end in her favor.
George: But I decided while getting ready for tonight that I wasn't gonna listen to him. I'm not superstitious. Besides that jerk just wants to cock block me to clear a way for himself. He really liked how you fit in those bike shorts.
Nailah smiled coyly as the waiter returned with their drinks. The waiter poured George's hard cider from the bottle into a chilled tall ale glass. George took a sip and smiled.
Nailah: I'm glad you took a chance on me.
George: I'd be crazy not to. You're hot looking, my crazy roomie wouldn't be trying to psych me out and you take me to really high class places. You're a keeper.
Nailah: Thanks, I think.
Waiter: Are you ready to order or would you like a few minutes more.
George: I'll have the lobster. She'll have whatever she wants.
Nailah: I'll have the large salad, the soup and a side of stream broccoli with garlic.
The waiter took their menus to place the meal order.
George: Think you got enough veggies in that meal.
Nailah: The soup has fish in it but I can eat around it. It's really good. If you want to you can sample some.
George: Okay.
Nailah: After dinner I planned for us to go to a play on Granville Island .
George: What kind of play?
Nailah: A psycho-thriller.
George: Should be fun.
The silence was uncomfortable. Nailah watch as George's Adam's apple wobbled up and down as he swallowed his hard cider. She listened to the song playing on the system. It was The Chosen by Meshell Ndegeocello. A sexy, jazzy song that really didn't created the chemical buzz she was looking for when she looked at George. He smiles at her and she can't help but smile back. She likes him and knows instantly that he will definitely be a good friend, if anything, even though a decent romance would be highly welcomed and enjoyable.
Detective Nailah: You should realize that romance is RARELY enjoyable. It's uncomfortable, confusing, messy and aggravating.
Nailah ignored her inner thoughts wishing her company went with the sensual music but like her darker aspect she could fantasize that he was “the one”. Who ever “the one” was.
George: Listen I should apologize for our last date. I was trying to impress you but when I… hmmm when I-
Nailah (interrupts): I get it. My girls mesmerized you. Look it's been an embarrassing while for me too so I was as anxious as you were to get from vertical to horizontal.
George: Don't sleep on the vertical. Man this is easier than I thought. You won't think I'm a jerk or something if I ask whether or not we will... you know... tonight?
Nailah: After you ordered the most expensive dish here I know I'm getting some intimate clothing optional time with you tonight. I'm even open to skipping the play after dinner.
George: Decent but we're going to the play. If your gonna be the pig, I'm gonna make you wait for it.
Nailah: This role reversal is both liberating and strange.
George: I tend to like strange.
Nailah: Curiously so do I.
They laughed as their dinner was served. Nailah was eager to start her soup. She placed a spoon in the deep tomato broth and scooped up some of the fish, blew on it then seductively offered it to George, who smiled before he took the spoon in his mouth. He moaned slightly at the glorious tastes dancing in his mouth as he ate the soup. Nailah winked at him.
They chit chatted about everything and nothing as they slowly consumed their meal. George was stopped in mid sentence by a slight tightening of his throat so he drank some water. But it didn't help. He started coughing. This alarmed Nailah who jumped up from her side of the table to assist him.
Nailah: What's wrong? Are you choking?
She assumed the position behind him to assist in performing the Heimlich maneuver. But George was finding it difficult to breathe and he hissed-
George (coughing): Can't breathe… too good.
Nailah realized that he was coughing and talking so he didn't choke on anything. She called for the waiter and asked him to call for an ambulance. She then frantically scanned the table when it dawned on her-
Nailah: Are you allergic to seafood?
George (coughing): I've eaten fish and chips.
Nailah: Are you allergic to lobster?
George (coughing): Don't think so.
Nailah: When was the last time you had lobster?
George (coughing): This was the first time.
As the EMT crew arrive to assess George's status, Nailah backed away mortified. I could have killed him!
Detective Nailah: We didn't know he was allergic to shellfish!
Hood Rat Nailah: This guy is a lame “no sex getting zone”. We need to expand our sex getting circle.
Detective Nailah: Can you be any colder?
Hood Rat Nailah: Being totally about one's own needs is better than being a murderer.
Detective Nailah: Just barely.
Deeply saddened, Nailah walked out the restaurant as the song Only He Can Hold Her by Amy Winehouse played over the the stereo system. She grimaced as the other patrons watched her progression after George with curious eyes. Outside the restaurant, her cousin Seun rushed to her side, handing her, her purse and wrap before she jumped into the ambulance to accompany George to the hospital, which turned into a ten hours ordeal.
But that's another story.
-----
Jo furiously blinked incredulously at Nailah. Nailah took a sip of her drink then sighed.
Jo: But that doesn't explain how you got the neck brace.
Nailah: We should have listened to his roommate Vincent and stayed away from one another.
Jo: The other one who wanted to date you?
Nailah: He thinks I'm a jinx too. So he is no longer a dating option.
Jo: Is George alright?
Nailah: Yeah he suffered anaphylaxis. He's allergic to lobster. We got him to the hospital in time. He was treated and released the next day.
Jo: And you went on another date with him after all that?
Nailah: No I refused to go out with him. He insisted but I told him for his safety, no. He kept telling me I've brought more excitement in his life in the past week than he has had all last year. His roommate was even more against us dating each other. I told him if he's getting advice from the un-dead perhaps he should heed it.
Jo: But you went on an another date anyway?
Nailah: It really wasn't a date.
NOT a Date Number Three
Nailah: I was still upset about what happened to George and no closer to any solution to resolve the issues about what to do about my dead in the water novel.
Jo: Wait, what about your novel?
Nailah: You were right about that woman who was so-called sponsoring my writing efforts. She stole my book!
Jo: You not only create it, you live your drama. What does that have to do with George? Was he working for her?
Nailah: George is a separate issue altogether.
-----
I needed to do something for me and I thought the sex drive was a healthy way to accomplish that but all these unexpected obstacles were upsetting all my plans. I knew it was sign that I needed to focus on something else but I couldn't quiet my mind enough to figure out what I needed to focus on.
I biked, I worked at the restaurant replacing my cousin Kyland's assistant and avoiding an insistent George. But no answers were forthcoming until I biked pass a motorcycle dealership. I stopped to look in the window and was enthralled. I went inside and looked over the motorcycles in the shop then I decided I would rent a Softail to practice on.
I was so excited I sort of let it slip in my phone conversation with George. I didn't stop the phone calls because he really is a cool guy and I could see us being friends for a long time.
George: I have a hog. It's about balance. You need a bike you can handle. You should let me teach you how to ride one properly.
Nailah: I don't think we should be in the same space and time with each other for your safety.
George: This isn't a date. I'd teach you how to ride one properly. You'd be my student. You could pay me if that made you feel better.
Nailah: Let's not go entirely crazy. Okay, meet me at 10 A.M. on Boundary Road this Saturday. There are some nice quiet roads nearby and we could find a large empty parking lot.
George: They only had Softails available for rental? A Sportster may be a better fit for you.
Nailah: You really know your bikes.
George: I have a pre-owned fatboy that I got when I was in college. I'll see you Saturday.
The rest of the week sped by fast, as the weekend approached and Nailah couldn't wait. She always loved motorcycles.
She met George who got to the shop before her. He was chatting with the salesman over a late model Electraglide on display. She approached him with a smirk. He gave her a hug and a peck on the cheek.
Nailah: Why did you do that? You're tempting fate.
George: Just a cordial greeting between master and student.
Nailah: Master???
George: You'll thank me later.
They settled on a Sportster model and two helmets. George insisted that he drive the bike to a deserted parking lot before Nailah took over, since he had a Motorcycle license and she didn't. He would give her pointers and help her perfect her riding to begin to prepare her to qualify for her own motorcycle license.
It was on the way to the parking lot that George had a fender bender with what he described to the police as a “moving parked car”. The jolt wrenched Nailah's neck resulting in a case of whiplash. George walked away unscathed.
-----
Jo looked at Nailah, smiling. She could see the solution to Nailah problem with Amanda but she had to figure out a way for Nailah to see them rather than to just tell her.
Jo: At least you are relatively okay.
Nailah: I thought that the accident would be expensive but George has taken care of everything. He really felt bad about what happened since he drove. I guess it was my good fortune that I had him put on the temporary insurance we filled out at the dealership when we rented the bike.
Jo: So what are you going to do about your stolen novel?
Nailah: I don't have the funds to mount a legal battle nor do I have the anger to do it anymore. Just thinking about it drains my energy.
Jo: Too bad. You could make her life difficult.
Nailah: How?
Jo: She didn't write a page of your book. A writer's use of words is like fingerprints. Unique. If you were to write another book, people would wonder why do two books have the same voice but two different authors.
Nailah: I thought that too but I can't figure out what to write about. I put a lot into my first novel and I don't have anything left for another one.
Jo: Your exploits with George could be a new genre - the anti-romance novel.
Nailah: It could work but I can't see the story beyond what has already happened.
Jo: The best revenge is to be a success... without her.
Nailah thought deeply about what Jo's wisdom. During the rest of the dinner she tasked her Detective Nailah aspect to brainstorm potential story ideas.