Black Chicago by Hawkins Odie;

Author:Hawkins, Odie;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Distribution
Published: 2016-02-24T05:00:00+00:00

Mo’ Music

It was clearly a freedom buy for all parties, plus maximum benefits. David and Martha had put their coins together for tickets to Ghana, West Africa, and I was chosen to be the caretaker of their luxurious 8th floor apartment in South Commons, overlooking Lake Michigan.

No idea how it came about; one minute I was in deepest Los Angeles, battling Crips, Bloods, the freeways and Hollywood producers, next minute I’m in Chicago, sipping birthday cake and agreeing to water the family’s hallucigenic plants during their absence.

For three weeks, I was going to be responsible for the plants, have the honor of representing the household in the local bodega and get my full share of staring at the lovely little boats down in the lake.

It was the perfect set up for a honeymoon. I called this outrageously gorgeous Choctaw-Ukranian woman in California to come visit me …

“Yes, I’ll be there on Friday.”

“But today is Sunday, what’re you planning to do, hitch hike?”

“No, silly, I can’t fly, I’m afraid …”

This, from a person who strolled around nude on the parapets of four story buildings.

“O.K., lover, see you on Friday.”

“I’ll be on an early train, call you when I get in.”

“You better.”

Nothing to do ’til Friday but stare into Lake Michigan. I have never lived higher than two stories above the ground in Chicago and now, come Friday, there we were, doing one on one orgies miles above the ground.

“I’ll only be able to stay five days.”

“Let’s do the best we can with that.”

We fell out of the sky a few times, started up rhythms that sloshed water out of the lake basin, brutalized each other with tenderness …

“Did you …?

“I did, five times, did you?”

“Yes, I’m still doing it …”

We filled up on Billie “You’re My Thrill” Holiday, Billie “Why This Strange Desire,” Billie, this desire that keeps mounting higher, Billie, Billie, Billie …

We opened the lake front’s light show at night and closed it for dawn streaked nature shows. We entertained no guests.

We couldn’t predict the ending of this dreamtime and when the numbers came up, we simply placed our cards on the table, face up.

“I’m so glad you came.”

“Is that a pun?”

It took a whole night of fussy sleeping for me to get used to the idea of a bed without Semenchuk.

She had been my sweet thang for five days and nights and now she was gone.

I mentally kicked myself in the ass for days after she detrained, feeling stupid. I hadn’t told her that I loved her. I hadn’t made love with her as often as she wanted to make love …

“But, baby, it’s 3 a.m., we’ve already made love three times already.”

My aptitude for self-condemnation was exhausted a half-day later, I’ve never been one to live too seriously in the past. Time is too precious for that.

I was an ambulating bachelor with a freak pad, money in pocket and time on my hands. I started making sorties down to the restaurant-bar for slow lunches and gin ’n tonics.

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