Hidden Valley (D. SWING)

VIII. Home Again

A closed fist in my pocket replicates the exposed knuckles knocking against the door in front of me. The door swings open and I am greeted with the bright-eyed replica of someone I once questioned feelings for. Her hair rests on her shoulders, the same shoulders exposed to keep her body cooled in the North Carolinian heat. Her being an entire shade darker than the last time I saw her tells me she's spent plenty of her recent time basking in the glory of the summer sun.

"Don, what're you doing here? I thought you moved to New York."

A smile appearing as my brain buffers, I don't know how to exactly explain what went down in New York.

The trip to New York was like playing a three hour tournament of Mfs. Pac-Man with double the ghosts chasing behind you. We were determined and that's the only reason it was successful but I knew from the moment we realized how broke we were that our faith was going to be tested in ways we never experienced because the blocks just kept falling one by one after that.

"Check it, who's the honey over there eyeing me down, man."

K-Ci smiled back at the tall, artificial ginger-headed woman that sent him bedroom eyes from across the parking lot. Her lipstick was a bright red but partially smeared on the sides. Other than that, the honey's had it going on. K-Ci's blatant flirting came to a jaw dropping halt when a wide open palm struck across the woman's left cheek. My eyes doubled in size underneath my sunglasses, lip failing to remain solid as my jaw dropped. Dalvin's head rolled off of his shoulders but I catch it and return it to him before his shock garnered more attention than we want.

JoJo leaned into the unintentional huddle we created. "Dalvin, where the fuck you got us at that got some hoochie gettin' smacked up by her pimp?"

"I'on know, man. This the—" Dalvin looked over his shoulder as a fresh wave of prostitutes came rolling in to swap places with the other woman occupying the nearby corners and sporadic cement squares in front of the building. Fishnets came by the dozen and most were accompanied by short skirts and thigh high boots. Less than a quarter of the woman carried attractive faces but the moment K-Ci's experience made everything click, none of them were suitable enough for our stares. "This the Bristol."

"You got better luck hog tyin' a pig off Ms. Darlene barn and stickin' that sucker inna' bowl of dress than you got me touchin' anything in there. Ai'ight?"

K-Ci's threats didn't faze me. I snatched him into the huddle by his sleeve. "All we gotta' do is get a room fa' the night and in the mornin' we go find Uptown. After we get the deal, we gone be in the city!"

Locking up every lock in the car and making sure all of our windows are up, we tightly walked in a compacted group to the front desk of the establishment. A light skinned woman who sounded too much like Rosie Perez greeted us with the chewing of her gum being almost as distracting as the mole above her lips. Dalvin approached her first but her attention seemed to be scarce.

"Yasmin, don't chu' be doin' allat in the lobby, girl! You know where ya' can take that," she screamed to a 'couple' behind us. Her eyes reverted back to Dalvin. "I'm sorry, baby. We almost all booked u—"

Dalvin was not taking any form of decline for an answer. "Ma'am, I'm sorry. We need a room."

"Ma'am?" Her eyes squinted as she studied us closely. I took my glasses off, no longer feeling the need to dim the room. As I did such, her eyes fell on me. Leaning against the counter, the woman asked me, "Where ya' from, pretty eyes." K-Ci's lips formulated an answer but after his first syllable, she pointed an extended fingernail at me with a slouched wrist. Her eyes never broke eye contact with me. "I said pretty eyes, chocolate drop." The term of endearment direct at K-Ci felt motherly but mine felt... Different.