Some Day One Day

17

The cigarette in between my fingers was just about done when I heard the backdoor to the place where I worked open. Out came Dreux, dressed in his all black uniform. When he saw me, we smiled at each other.
"Hey." I greeted him with ease. I'd finally gotten to a place where I no longer felt nervous around my co-workers. I was getting used to working there. It surprised me how nice everyone here was, but I knew not to be fooled by the occasional pleasantries. Behind these smiles could be the very people that wanted to hurt you.
"Sup lil mama." He reciprocated with a nod.
"Nothing much. Tired as usual." I told him with a tepid smile.
"I feel you, I feel you." he said, surprising me when he took the black, wicker glider beside me. Usually Dreux was just a passing figure, never stopping to speak to anyone unless they kept him there. Him sitting down beside me was more than a shocker.
I was staring at Dreux, taking him all in, and reminding myself for the umpteenth time how good looking of a man he was. He had long, pitch-black hair that was swooped into a bun of soft looking curls. His skin was bisque and flawless of any blemishes. His eyes were as dark as his sooty hair. It was hard to tell what his body was like beneath the weighty uniform he dutifully wore, but by the strength and virility of his wrist and hands, I knew that the rest of him had to be muscular. He was a tall guy, much taller than my five six frame. He obliviously had all the ladies here awing over him even if they were all much, much older than him. Another factor that must have drawn them to have an attraction for him was his calm, quiet demeanor. He kept to himself a lot, only speaking when spoken to. When he did answer, his answers were terse. He never said much to give any information about himself and when co-workers tried to remedy that, they failed instantly because he never even gave clues about himself or his past.
"Thanks for helping me out today," I told him in meaningful gratification with an exhausted sigh, rubbing my forehead where a headache was taking place, "I didn't know working in the kitchen could be so hard."
I'd come to the decision that on my two days off, I would work in the kitchen simply because it was only a half day job that lasted from five thirty to one in the afternoon. I was starting to realize that working as a housekeeper seven days of the week was very, very difficult. In fact, it was incorrigible. Plus I heard the tips one got from working in the kitchen were enormous. So I tried my hand at working in the hotel's kitchen and found out that it wasn't as easy as I thought, but it was definitely much easier than being a housekeeper. While Dreux was the cook along with another lady, I worked in other affairs such as washing, putting different entrees together, and placing them on display for the guests' buffet breakfast. Little did I know that I also had to act as a cashier and to top it off I had to be a waitress too. Dreux helped me in the back when I was too slow to keep up with everyone else. He helped me when nobody else would.
Nobody had time for anyone else but their own selves and I realized that my parents sheltering me from the world had kept me out of that knowledge. And I couldn't blame others for not wanting to help because at these jobs one just wanted to work and leave as quickly as possible.
"It ain' a thing." Dreux said coolly and by then he'd pulled out a cigarette of his own. I laughed softly and when he looked at me questionably, I let him know what I found funny.
"Everyone smokes here." I said as I flicked my pint sized cigarette on the cemented flooring, meshing it with the sole of my shoe.
"I know. It ain' a good habit." He started patting his thighs and pockets before grimacing.
"What?"
"I don't have my lighter on me."
"Oh, don't worry." I fished deeply in the pockets of the apron I was assigned and pulled out a silver lighter to him before flicking a flame from it.
"Here you go." I leaned forward and he seemed a little bit taken aback. After hesitating a second, he too inclined towards me.
"Thanks ma." He said before bracing the cigarette between his fingers and closing his pink-hued lips on its tan tip.
I watched as he took a deep inhale and let out heavy clouds of smoke through barely parted lips.
"Feels good when you let it out huh." I said observantly watching him before facing forward again.
"Yep." He effortlessly condescended in a luxurious sigh of smoke.
We sat quietly, staring ahead of us where the fence with its vines and leaves barricaded the hotel from the world. It was a few minutes shy of two o'clock. Cumulus clouds filled up the sky and moved slowly to the gentle breeze that blew.
"Dreux, how tall are you?" I asked him spontaneously.
"Six two."
I looked at him upon his answer.
"You're pretty tall." I stated the obvious.
He nodded while blowing out a tunnel of smoke that was as cloudy and mysterious as he.
"Where are you from?" I asked him, lifting his jar of secrets and trying to sneak a peek.
"Nevada."
My sharp gasp swung his questioning eyes to mine.
"Really?" I asked incredulously.
He nodded casually.
"Wow...I lived there. Well, I used to live there for about three years and eight months."
"Really?" his brows were raised a notch and his head was lying lazily on the back of his chair.
"Mhmm." I nodded.
"That's cool." Dreux murmured with a nod of his own. My question seemed to have transported us to the past because we both indulged into pensive silence for a moment.
I was thinking of how much I loved yet hated the part of Nevada that I lived in. The reason why I hated it is that a few months after highschool, my parents had uncaringly taken me there against my own will. The reason why I liked it is because it was such a contradiction to the city life that I was so familiar with, giving me a chance not to view the landmarks where Shawn and I acted out our love.
We were staying with my father's brother at that time. His house was large, old and creaky since it was nearly sixty years old. A lot of history had transpired in that house. Though I'd been there many times as a child and hated it, when my parents took me there later on in my life, I loved it. It was deliciously spacious to me whereas in New York, one couldn't take one step without running into something or someone. The nearest neighbor was a mile away, which meant nobody, got into another's business without having to go out of their way to. In New York, rumors spread fast because people talked too much. Behind the house, my uncle owned a farm where I spent most of my time in solitude since I didn't want to speak to anyone. But damn, if that wasn't the most beautiful place in the world I'd ever seen then I didn't know what else was.
It was ideal...calm...and quiet.
Although it was filled with nothing but dried up, tall grass that came up to one's knees, I found that refreshing because that gave the area some sense of personality. The city life with its plain grounds filled with litter and the hasty walking of pedestrians made the whole scenario impersonal because no one ever stopped to think about another. The roads in the no-man's land of Nevada were these empty, endless trails. I remember when I'd once wanted to run away, I stopped by the side of the road and looked down at its relentlessness as an unknown future awaiting me.
The roads of New York...need I say more? There was too much going on in those roads. Too much congested, bumper-to bumper traffic. Too much chaos and too many angry drivers that were only concerned with where they were going and how they were going to get there. Looking down that road, you couldn't see enough to even think of a future.
Living in New York meant here and now. Living in that rural part of Nevada meant something close to eternity.
Whereas I loved a whole lot, there was still room in my heart for distaste because it reminded me how drastic my life had turned around.
It didn't help that being there made me think of one man and one man only.
Shawn.
It's that type of place where one wants to spend lazy afternoons with the blazing sun only making one more and drowsier, laying on the grass beneath the large oak tree, talking aimlessly to their loved one for eons of time. And damn, every time I stared at that river canal by the large oak tree with its rhythmic gurgling made me think of that time when Shawn and I were in Ojay's pool and...
I sighed because thought made me feel the ache of the rim around the pool digging into my back as he gripped my thighs and...
I shook my head immediately when the image got too graphic for me to bear.
"So where you from originally?" Dreux startled me with his question. It wasn't so much the question that surprised me because he caught me off guard. It was more the fact that he was actually the one talking to me for a change.
"I'm from here. I just went there for a little while." I explained and Dreux nodded.
"What about you? Why'd you move from there to here?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, "I needed a change I guess. There wasn't really much to do where I came from. But up here, there's more opportunity. So my parents moved us here when I was about sixteen years old."
I nodded quietly.
"Do you like it here?" I asked him next and he shook his head with no ounce of hesitation with a rueful smile.
"Howcome?" I asked with a laugh, appreciating his honesty wholeheartedly.
"I mean, it's straight. It's too much goin' on though. Life in Nevada is slow...things go way too fast here."
I remember Shawn saying something along those lines when we'd have those endless talks where I'd do the asking and he'd do the answering.
I smiled wistfully at the distant thought.
"I know. I think that's why I liked Nevada. That's crazy Dreux I didn't know you were from there. Finally, I have something in common with someone I work. Everyone here is so..." I didn't want to use words that may be offensive, so my voice tapered off when I had difficulty trying to find a fitting word.
"Old?" Dreux finished for me with a sheepish smirk and I laughed before nodding.
"Yeah. But they're all cool though."
"Yeah."
We sat quietly for a while, staring out sightlessly ahead of us.
"So where did you work before you worked here?" I asked conversationally. Dreux was quiet for a wile so I turned to him.
"I was in the army." Was Dreux's succinct response.
My eyes widened and my jaw went slack, "Really?!"
Dreux nodded.
"You mean in the army, like in the actual army? Like you actually did stuff? You actually went out there and fought?"
That had to be one of the dumbest questions I'd ever asked. I was about to take my ignorance back but despite my challenged inquisitions, Dreux nodded.
"...You were in Iraq?" I asked him in reference to the war that was going on at the moment, still dumbfounded for some reason.
"Yeah."
"Oh wow..." I muttered dazedly.
What I really wanted to ask him is what it was like, but that obviously wasn't an appropriate question to ask especially since the only connection we really had with each other was a working relationship.
Nevertheless, I couldn't help but wonder if Dreux's occasional aloofness was due to being damaged soldier from a war that none of us knew what its purpose was for. There were always these stories of how people who came from war were demented and their pitiful mental state was forever irreversible. On the other hand, his silence and tranquility was probably just the person that he naturally was.
Dreux suddenly cleared his throat and gave his watch a cursory glance. He then put his cigarette out and on the ashtray set on the table in front of us where many of the workers marooned theirs.
"Well I better get going." He announced as he stood up and looked down at me, "You ain' leaving?"
I shook my head. Tonight was the night when I was to go see Angie. I had all afternoon to get ready.
"Not yet. I want to chill here for a minute." I told him, my face upturned so that I could see him in his tall stature.
"Iight then," he turned around while shoving his strong hands into his pockets, "See you around Beyonce."
"Later Dreux."
I watched his departing figure thinking, damn, you learn something new everyday...