Yellow Brick Road (an Eazy-E Story)

TWO

January 1st, 1991 | 11:48pm

Eazy's gloved palm held the small of my exposed back as he led me down the glass staircase of the nightclub. He made a nod at the two buff security guards patrolling the back entrance of the building. "You heading out, E?" The taller, darker skinned security guard leaned down to yell in Eazy's direction.

Eazy lowered his shades and made eye contact with the guard. "That's right." He smirked, sinking his fingertips into the skin of my lower back. "I'll knock three times when we come back." Eazy moved his hand away from my back and found my hand. Holding onto it as if he were holding onto an eightball from the corner store.

The guards let us through without a problem. The gust of cold wind hit us simultaneously. A loud bang echoed through the empty parking lot as the door slammed shut. "Take a ride with me." He proposed. "Me? Take a ride with Eazy E?" I asked sarcastically, scoping out the 1964 Chevrolet Impala parked slanted in the empty parking lot behind the brick laid establishment.

"Eric. Call me Eric." He corrected me. He stopped in front of his vehicle, leaning against it with his right elbow. His left leg bent as his left foot rested on the silver bumper. "Let's not be formal, Lauren. This isn't business." He laughed. It was the kind of laugh to tell me to 'loosen up'.

I scoffed at how uptight I was coming off. "If it isn't business, then what is it?" I challenged him. "Pleasure. Only if you want it." He swiftly removed the leather fingerless gloves from each hand in one swift motion. He flexed his gold Cuban bracelet on his right wrist and his gold wrist watch on the opposite wrist.

"Pleasure, huh?" I bit my bottom lip, eyeing Eric from head to toe. His LA Raiders hat sat perfectly on his temples. His curls dried up but still coiled. His Carhartt industrial jacket dyed dark and swallowing his torso. Dark baggy denim clung to his waist and were creased perfectly, cuffed over his Nike Cortez sneakers.

Eric removed his shades and folded them neatly, placing them in the breast pocket of his jacket. "You gon' stand there all night or are you going to ride with me?" Eric motioned to right hand to 'come here' where he was standing. Still leaning on the hood of his Impala, I positioned myself in front of him.

Placing my hand on his jacket, I slipped my hand into his breast pocket and retrieved his designer frames. I put them on my face and said: "Let's ride." With a cheeky grin, he couldn't help but laugh at my behavior. "Get in, gangsta." He said as he unlocked the passenger door before unlocking his. I made myself comfortable in the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt between my breasts.

"Where are you taking me?" I turned my head to face him. His designer frames made everything ten times more dim. I squinted trying to find his eyes in the lowly light parking lot. His hands reach over my face and slowly slid the frames off of my face. He hooked them back in his breast pocket and simply said: "It's a secret."

Eric ignited the engine and with one hand, turned the body of the car into traffic. The car ride wasn't silent for long as he dug through his cassette collection inside of the center console. He found a tape he liked and put it into his Alpine. Instantly, the smooth crooning of Teddy Pendergrass was blaring out of the trunk of his car.

The bass rumbled beneath me. "Your car is nice." I initiated small talk. Eric's eyes stayed glued to the road. Hands were ten to two. "Thank you. She can hit switches too, you know?" He said with a slight curl at the corner of his full lips. He reached over to the left side of his steering wheel and made a full stop at a red light.

In that moment, the car began to spring without any warning. I held on to my purse as the bouncing persisted. I laughed at Eric as he was surprised at my reaction. "Let me stop." He said, cooling down from his laughter as the light turned green. "That's wasn't even scratching the surface of what she can do." Eric smiled, turning onto the expressway.