So You Call Yourself a Man Read online

  Now she looked like she wanted to smack the shit out of me. “So, what you tryin’ to say, that you don’t plan on helping me until you have a paternity test?”

  I nodded and she walked to the door, her face twisted in aggravation. I don’t know why she was so mad. She had to know I was going to ask her for a paternity test.

  “You know, I was hoping you were going to be reasonable about this, but that’s all right. I’ll see you in court, James. You can get a paternity test there for free. Oh, and you can believe I’m going for my thirty thousand dollars now. You still live at 214 Dunlop Avenue in Hollis, don’t you? I’ll make sure to have them send the paperwork to your house as soon as possible.”

  I stood up and we locked eyes. I’m sure we were thinking the same thing, but while Michelle seemed to be finding pleasure in her threat, it filled me with fear. The thought of Cathy waiting for me one evening at the door, holding child-support papers demanding thirty thousand dollars, turned my stomach again. “Why you doin’ this, Michelle?”

  “Because I don’t know what else to do, James.” Her eyes started to tear. “I’m a single mother with no man, a job working as a home health-care worker, and a baby to raise. I tried, but I can’t do this by myself. Now, you may not know he’s your son, but I do, and you’re going to help me whether you want to or not. So, I’ll see you in court.”

  She stood defiantly, staring at me with her arms folded and tears running down her face. For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt sorry not just for myself but for both of us.

  “Are you sure he’s my son?” I asked tentatively.

  She stared directly into my eyes and without blinking said, “Yes, James, he’s your son.”

  “Look, maybe we can work something out. I can try to stretch my route out longer and get a couple hours overtime each day.” She gave me this so-now-you-wanna-work-things-out look. “It’s gonna be tight, but I can probably scratch up the eight hundred if you let me give you two hundred a week. But I don’t know about the child care. You can’t get blood out of a turnip.”

  She gave me a skeptical look but finally nodded her head. “I can work with that for now, but when I need a babysitter, I’m calling you, then I’m calling your wife.”

  Sonny

  I was in the middle of an interview with the director of human resources for UPS’s Queens, New York, hub. The interview was supposed to be just a formality for me to get the job as a driver, but I wasn’t so sure about that anymore. I’d had a bad feeling about the balding, overweight white man sitting in front of me from the second I walked in the room. He just had that look—you know, the look that said, I’m interviewing your black ass because I have to, but I really can’t stand niggers, so don’t even think you’re getting a job out of me. Oh, he was too politically correct or just plain afraid of the lawsuit I’d slap on UPS to say something like that to my face, but he was thinking it, that I was sure of. I’d been on too many job interviews with too many racist corporate motherfuckers the past three months not to know that look. So, unless I could pull a rabbit out of my hat and convince him that I was one of those good, helpful niggers like James, my chance of finally getting a job were slim to none.

  “Well, Mr. Harrison, I must admit you have a very impressive resume. A bachelor’s in computer science from Virginia State University, three years IT with Sherman, and before that, ten years with Henry Schein. James was right when he said you were a very smart man.”

  “Thanks.” I sat up in my seat. I was feeling a little more comfortable. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad after all, I thought, until he shot me an annoyed, cross-eyed look that seemed to say, When I need your opinion, I’ll ask for it.

  “Mr. Harrison, there is something I don’t understand, though.” He looked down at my resume and frowned. I hated this part; this was where he asked me why I hadn’t been working the past three months, then I decided whether to tell the truth or to lie. “Why are you applying for a job as a UPS driver? You don’t have any experience as a truck driver. You’ve never even worked in the delivery field.” He sat back in his chair, staring at me with his beady eyes. I felt like I was shrinking before him, and the more I tried to sit up, the smaller I became. I wasn’t expecting this question because James made it seem like the job was in the bag.

  “I understand that I don’t have any experience, but I do have the proper license and I’m very motivated. I’m extremely motivated.”

  “I’m sure you are, but if you were me, would you hire a guy with a computer background to drive a truck?”

  Damn, the redneck had me on that one. He had used reverse psychology and it had worked. I tried to remain confident, but at that point I knew the end was near.

  “All I can tell you, Mr. Weinstein, is that I wanna work for UPS, and I’m sure I can be a damn good driver.” I felt like a slave begging the massa to take me out of the field and put me in the house.

  “I believe you could be a good driver, but for how long? How long would you be happy driving a truck, Mr. Harrison? Six months, a year tops.” He shook his head. “No, Mr. Harrison, you’re not a truck driver.”

  “Mr. Weinstein, please, you don’t understand. I really need this job.”

  He glanced at my resume one last time, then slid it into a folder, sighing as if he was sorry. But that redneck motherfucker wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t sorry at all. He’d achieved his goal. He didn’t want me to have this job in the first place. Unfortunately, my stupid ass listened to James and my desperation to find a job, instead of my intuition and my wife, who, although supportive in the end, wanted me to keep my ass in Seattle. I was tempted to cuss this redneck’s fat ass out before I left, but I wasn’t sure how that would affect James. So instead, I stood up and said, “Thank you for your time,” as if he’d done me a favor.

  “Sit down, Mr. Harrison,” he ordered, and the only thing that went through my mind was, No he didn’t! At that point, I’m sure he could see the contempt on my face, so he rephrased his demand. “Mr. Harrison, would you please sit down?”

  I took a deep breath and did like he asked. Why, I don’t know. Slave mentality, I guess.

  “Mr. Harrison, I basically promised James I’d give you a job as a driver, but after looking at your resume, I just can’t do it.”

  That motherfucker had the nerve to smile. I pushed myself out of my chair. He’d already made it clear he wasn’t going to hire me. I wasn’t about to let him ridicule me further. “I think you made that pretty clear the first time.”

  “Mr. Harrison, I have one last thing to say, and after that you can leave.”

  The second I walked out of the UPS building, I took a deep breath, wiping away a single tear as I dialed my home phone. Jessica answered on the second ring, and the first thing that came out of her mouth was, “Did you get the job?” There was no “Hello,” no “Hey baby,” not even a “How did it go?” None of that. Just a straight-to-the-point “Did you get the job?”

  “Well…” I replied rather solemnly, but before I could answer, she cut me off.

  “Oh, God, don’t tell me you didn’t get the job, Sonny.” Her voice cracked with concern, and for a second I was afraid to answer.

  “No, hun, I didn’t get the job as a driver,” I replied, but all I could hear was her breathing. “Jes, you still there?”

  She finally responded, her words even sadder than before. “What are we going to do?”

  “We’re going to celebrate,” I told her with excitement.

  “Celebrate? Celebrate what? Being broke?”

  “No, my new job as a UPS computer analyst.”

  “New job? Computer analyst?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “But you said you didn’t get the job.”

  “I said I didn’t get the job as a driver, but that’s only because they wanted to offer me a job as an analyst.”

  “You got the job?” she mumbled happily.

  “That’s right, baby, so pack your bags, because James hooked us up and
we’re moving back to New York.”

  “You got the job?” she repeated, like she still didn’t believe me. I knew she’d been concerned about me being out of work, but I never knew just how much until now. I guess that’s why she allowed me to come to New York and interview. She was afraid that if I didn’t, I might not get a job anywhere.

  “Yes, baby, we got the job.”

  “Thank God,” she said, and the relief in her voice made me smile. “So when are we moving? Oh, my God, I’ve got so much to do.”

  “I’ll be back in about a week or two. I’ve gotta find us a place to live and get a few things straight here. Do you think you can get everything ready to go by the time I get back?”

  “Sweetheart, you can count on it,” she replied, in a voice that assured me the job would be done.

  James

  Brent, Sonny, and I were at Madison Square Garden. By halftime the Knicks were getting their butts whipped by Shaquille O’Neal and the Miami Heat. That was okay, though. The night was still young, and after the game we were going to head over to Hooters to celebrate Sonny’s new job and Brent’s last few nights as a bachelor. I tried to arrange a big shindig at a strip club with all of our friends, but Mr. Born-Again Brent nixed that idea a couple of nights ago. I had to twist his arm just to get him to let Sonny and me take him to Hooters.

  Despite his holier-than-thou protest during the week, Brent had been in high spirits from the minute we picked him up and headed to the game. I think he was a little more excited about the whole Hooters thing than he wanted to admit. I guess that’s how it is when you’re going to be married in less than twenty-four hours. You wanna see someone else’s titties one last time. You don’t necessarily wanna touch ’em, but you do wanna see ’em. Then again, even for an old married guy like me, a beer and some titties sounded pretty good. Who knows, I thought, maybe if we were lucky and he drank enough beer before the end of the game, Brent might let us take him to a real strip club.

  I turned to Sonny, who as usual had his cell phone glued to his ear, talking to that bubble-butt, gold-digging wench he called a wife. Damn, I couldn’t stand that bitch. It seemed like she was calling every half hour on the hour since he got into town just to see what he was doing. I felt like grabbing his phone and saying, “He’s at a basketball game, bitch! Same place he was half an hour ago when you called. Damn! Give the brother a break so he can watch the game.”

  I didn’t blame her as much as I blamed Sonny, though. We were all dedicated to our women, but I’d never seen anyone as whipped as him. He was mesmerized by that oversized ass of hers. He acted like he was a dog on a leash and she was his master. I was convinced that anything she said, he’d do, and that included jumping off the Brooklyn Bridge. I was starting to get heated just thinking about it, so it was a good thing my cell phone began to ring before I opened my mouth.

  I reached in my pocket and hit the talk button without looking at the caller ID. A big mistake, I soon found out.

  “James.” It was Michelle, and a wave of anxiety came over me when I recognized her voice. I was supposed to drop off $200 by her house earlier that afternoon, but my route had more packages than I anticipated, and I ended up doing more overtime than I expected. In my haste to get home, shower, and pick up the fellas, I completely forgot about it ’til now.

  “I got your money,” I assured her.

  “Good, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

  I hesitated before speaking, and I could feel both Brent’s and Sonny’s attention turn to me. “Then why are you calling?”

  “I need you to babysit your son.”

  From the tone of her voice, this was not a request, it was a demand. I turned my back and spoke low so Brent and Sonny could barely hear me. “Michelle, I can’t babysit tomorrow. Brent’s getting married.”

  “Who said anything about tomorrow? I need a babysitter now.”

  “Now?” I snapped, glancing at my friends.

  “That’s right. Now,” she snapped back. “I gotta be at work by nine o’clock and the lady that usually watches him is sick. I can’t afford to miss work.”

  “What about your mother? Why can’t she watch him?”

  “My mother’s down South, James. She’s been down there taking care of my grandmother for the last three months. I don’t know when she’s coming back.” It almost sounded like she was pleading.

  “Michelle, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it tonight. I’m already in Manhattan. In order for me to get there by nine, I’d have to leave now.”

  There was silence on the line until she spoke in an ominous, threatening tone. “Look, James, I don’t have time to argue with you. Now, I need you to babysit, so you might as well get your ass up and come on back to Queens!”

  “I heard you the first time, Michelle, so you don’t have to yell. But like I told you the first time, I can’t do it tonight. I’m busy.”

  “Oh, is that right?…Well, is your wife at home? ’Cause if you can’t watch him, I’m damn sure gonna ask her.”

  All of a sudden my head began to hurt. Michelle had a way of pushing my buttons like no one else. “Don’t go there, Michelle,” I said angrily.

  “No, James! Don’t you go there. I told you before, I’m not playing with you. This ain’t no game to me. I will call your wife. So, what’s your home number again? Oh, yeah.” She repeated the digits. I’d never heard anyone sound so serious, and it scared the hell out of me, especially when she continued. “Now, she don’t go to bed early, does she? ’Cause it’d be a shame to wake the sister up when all you gotta do is come over here and babysit.”

  “Aw’ight. Look, let me call you back in five minutes. I’ll see if I can arrange something. But I’m gonna call you, so don’t do nothin’ stupid until then.” I hung up the phone and turned to my friends. “Guys, I got a problem.”

  Sonny

  I’d been on the phone with my wife during most of the game, making arrangements for my return to Seattle and our move to New York. We’d decided to rent a house with an option to buy somewhere in Long Island. It would have to be near the Queens border, so I could see my friends. I was thinking someplace like Valley Stream or Elmont, where they still had some black folks and the schools were good.

  I loved New York, especially Queens, but I was not about to subject my kids to the New York City public school system. I knew I wouldn’t be able to afford to send my kids to private school. James sent both his boys to private school and it was costing him damn near as much as his mortgage payment. I’m sure he wouldn’t be able to afford it if Cathy didn’t work. I wasn’t about to ask Jessica to get a job. She’d been a stay-at-home mom so long, just the thought of going to work would probably give her hives. So, my goal was to get my kids in some decent schools and still be able to afford to own my own home in New York someday.

  While my wife and I were working out the details, I heard James shouting into his own phone, “I got your money!” He had this strange look on his face, like whoever he was talking to had him terrified.

  “Hun, let me call you back,” I told my wife.

  I hung up the phone and turned toward James, who was now trying to hide his conversation. What the hell was going on, I wondered, and who the hell did he owe money to? James wasn’t the type to gamble, and if he needed to borrow some money, I’m sure he would have gone to Brent. That’s what I would have done.

  I made eye contact with Brent, who seemed just as puzzled by James’s strange behavior as I was.

  When James finished his conversation, he turned to us, looking defeated. “Guys, I got a problem.”

  “What’s up?” Brent asked, his voice filled with concern.

  James lowered his head and whispered, “I can’t hang out tonight. I’ve gotta go take care of something.”

  “Excuse me,” I said in disbelief. “You can’t leave. You’re the one who insisted we all go out tonight. Did you forget the man’s getting married tomorrow?”

  James turned to Brent. “No, I didn’t forg
et, and I’m sorry, Brent, but something’s come up. It’s important. I’ve gotta go back to Queens.”

  “Back to Queens for what?” I stared at my friend. This wasn’t like him. James didn’t keep secrets from us. If anyone, I was the one who kept the secrets.

  It took a while for him to speak, but when he did, I was even more confused. “I gotta go babysit.”

  “Babysit? Babysit who? What’s going on, James?” If you think I was annoyed, you should have heard the irritation in Brent’s voice.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, then, give us the short version,” I demanded. I continued to stare at him in amazement. The brother couldn’t even look at us.

  “I really ain’t got the time. I gotta get back to Queens before nine, so I don’t piss her off.” He tried to stand up, but I placed my hand on his shoulder and pushed him down. He glanced at Brent, then at me. I think he finally realized he wasn’t going anywhere without giving us an explanation. A full explanation.

  “Okay, okay, but you’ve gotta promise not to tell anyone. Not even your wives. If this gets back to Cathy, my marriage is over.” He glared at us both, tight-lipped, waiting for our reply.

  “Don’t worry, James. We’re not gonna say anything. Are we, Sonny?” Brent’s eyes moved to me.

  “Nah, bro, you ain’t got to worry. Shit, we got your back. You know that.” This whole thing was starting to get interesting. The only time I’d ever seen James act all secretive like this was when he was fooling around with this girl named Michelle a few years back, but to my knowledge, that was over and done with. Besides, if he was messing with her or anyone else, he would have told me. Or so I thought.

  “Y’all remember that girl, Michelle, that I used to see a few years back, don’t you?”

  Oh, my God, he is fucking her again.

  “Who could forget her? For a skinny girl, she had one of the phattest asses I’ve ever seen.” Brent didn’t seem to know what we were talking about, so I used my hands to emphasize my statement. “Come on, Brent, you know her, the redbone with the big ol’ ba-dunk-a-dunk. Damn, how could you forget her? It ain’t like James had a thousand affairs.”