Black Beauty

Bug Boy

His heart sank when he walked to the bus stop to see Julia wasn't there.  Without her, he had no choice but to think about how he'd had such a strong desire to eat food out of the trash can. He'd been hungry plenty of times in his life, but he'd never been so hungry he'd wanted eat trash.  And besides, he'd been standing next to a refrigerator stuffed with food.

After the long bus ride, Julia's long legs were the first things he saw when he entered the school.  She stood in the same spot he'd been yesterday. Her smile made all of his crazy thoughts disappear and he returned her smile tenfold. Ordinarily he would have tried to remain hard and hide his joy, but he need a distraction.  He needed joy. 

Andre bent down to kiss her, but she cringed and leaned away.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"You're breath smells." She stepped further away. Her pink lips twisted into a grimace.

He breathed into his hand.

 "I don't smell anything," he said. It had smelled bad this morning, but he'd brushed his teeth twice and now it smelled fine.

She looked around, as if she was looking for a way to escape.

"What does it smell like?" he asked.

She cringed again, covering her nose and mouth with her hand.

"I have to go," she said, running down the hall dodging people.

He sniffed his breath again, before he lifted his arm and smelled his arm pits.  Nothing. What the hell was going on?

#

For the rest of the day every time Julia saw him, she ducked, dodged, or acted like he didn't exist. He couldn't smell anything wrong, but just incase he went to the bathroom and washed his armpits with a damp towel and then every change in class he'd stick a fresh piece of spearmint gum into his mouth.

The school day went by in a blur as he thought about what it could be.  He joked and laughed, pretending to be the funny person everyone expected him to be. But  he felt like a zombie, a living dead person going through the motions, pretending his heart hadn't just been torn out of his chest.

The rumor of him and Julia had already spread around the school. They had been inseparable yesterday. When the kids at school asked about her, he laughed it off and said, he ain't no clingy ass nigga, and he doesn't do girlfriends.

He was so upset about what happened with Julia that he skipped after school basketball practice, went home, fell onto his bed, and fell mercifully into oblivion.

#

Andre woke in darkness to the sound his stomach rumbling with hunger and Samuel snoring.

 How long had he been sleep?

"Sammy, did momma cook?" Andre asked, sitting up in bed.  Why didn't anyone wake him?

Samuel mumbled something indecipherable before and turned over in his twin-sized bed and pulled the covers over his head.

Andre stood. The movement making him aware of the damp clothes clinging to his back and chest. He touched the bed. It was damp too. Then he touched his forehead. His hand came back moist with sweat. Maybe he was getting sick. Did getting dumped make you sick?

Stomach rumbling, heart broken, and sweaty he walked into the kitchen. His mouth began to water immensely.  He gulped and licked his lips. He followed the smell to the trash and opened it. Spaghetti, garlic bread, and canned peaches lay on top of the other trash. He looked towards the fridge and then to the living room to make sure on one was coming. Then he took his hand and grabbed the food.  He stuffed peached, spaghetti noodles and sauce into his mouth. A surge of pleasure began on his tongue and traveled through his body as he chewed and swallowed. 

Gawd. He'd never tasted anything so good. The taste and texture of spaghetti sauce and rotting peaches exploded on his tongue. He took three more pleasurable handfuls and then started thinking about Julia.  The pleasure of the food and the pleasure of being with her intermixed. He walked away from the trash and went to the phone hanging on the kitchen wall.

He dialed her number.

"Hello," she said, answering on the tenth ring. Her voice sounded raspy, sleepy. She should have been up waiting for him to call.

"Hey, baby," he said, pulling at his crotch.

"Who is this?" she asked.

He deepened his voice. "Andre."

"Oh." She sounded alert  suddenly as if she were happy to hear him.  Good.

"Dre. I'm sorry. But I think we're going too fast. I need space."

"What!" He screamed before he remembered he didn't want to wake anyone up. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry. It's me not you."

"Hell no it ain't me.  We were fine yesterday."

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't mean to lead you on."

"Is this because I'm black?" Andre asked, trying desperately to come up with a reason why she would change her mind so quickly.

"No," Julia said. "I'm just not interested anymore. I need to concentrate on school."

"You found somebody else didn't you?" Andre knew he sounded like a punk, but he couldn't help it.

"No, Dre. It's not like that. I have to go."

"Don't. . . " he began but she had already hung up the phone.

#

He didn't remember falling asleep, but he knew his eyes were closed and his face itched. He brought his hand up to scratch but the itch grew legs and scurried across his face.

Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes to see hundreds of bugs scatter away. He recoiled, screaming as he realized they were are all over him. He hysterically jumped up and down as they fell off his arms and chest and legs. And face and neck.  He felt the crunch and the wetness of dead bugs underneath is bare feet.

His mother ran into living room, followed by his brother holding a bat, and his two sisters. "Dre what is wrong why all the screaming?" asked his mother.

"There were bugs on me," he said once his breath slowed enough for him to speak.

"Why the hell are you sleeping on the front room floor?" Samuel asked, lowering his baseball bat.

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep," Andre said, wiping his forehead.

"Well that's what you get for going to bed so early," his mother said. "I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't have it."

With the excitement wearing off, the room began to spin. He sat on the couch. "I don't feel very well," he said exhausted and drained.

His mother walked over and put her hand on his head. "Ugh. You stink and you're burning up, baby."  She looked worried, almost like she loved him again.

"Go to bed, Dre. You're staying home today.  If you're not feeling better by the time I get off work, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Sorry. We're leaving Andre. This was the most fun and the hardest section to write. "I hated comparing black girls to cockroaches" but I actually heard someone say this, so I had to write about it.  

We have one more person to meet and then all the stories will start to merge.