Tears on a Sunday Afternoon - Michael Presley [34]
“No, she didn’t.”
“What!” My father was stunned. He looked at me to see his reflection. The gun started to slip from his hand.
An opportunity presented itself.
“Who…”
I took advantage of the opportunity. Before the gun could fall to the ground I grabbed a hold of it. My father kept looking at me, still in total shock. I put the gun under his chin. His mouth opened to say something but the time for talking had passed. My fingers slipped over my father’s and the trigger was pulled. The shot had started the hunting season.
I didn’t go back to my hotel. Instead, I called Marge while I walked back from the woods. She picked up the phone on the second ring.
“Hello.” She sounded surprised.
“Why do you sound so startled?” I asked. I had a slight headache.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you. Aren’t you out there hunting?”
“I’m a little embarrassed,” I replied.
“What happened?”
“I got lost and called out to my friends but I couldn’t find them. What are you doing?”
“Bored; sitting here watching porno movies.”
I liked Marge. “I have condoms.”
“Come on over. At least I won’t waste this beautiful hotel room.”
Did I say I liked Marge? I hung up the phone, with my headache getting worse. I sifted through my bag and took out the pack of Viagra pills. I peeled the paper covering off and pushed one pill out. I swallowed the pill and drank some Nestea. I looked at my cell phone. It was going to take me thirty minutes to get to Marge’s hotel.
I knocked on the hotel door. She opened it, wearing a black, sheer negligee. Her breasts were so big they looked like they would burst and her thighs were fat with rows of cellulite. I looked her over and smiled.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“Yeah, my headache is gone” I said.
Marge reached out, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room. She dropped down on her knees as if to pray but instead she unbuttoned my pants.
My dick sprang out. Marge immediately took it into her mouth.
I felt relaxed knowing that today I had killed a white man and now I was going to fuck a white woman. My father was dead.
Chapter 8
13TH DAY
“It’s been good to be off for the last month. This is the best company I have ever worked for,” Brian said as he opened the door to his apartment.
“I’m hoping to take a year off in thirteen days,” I said, following Brian into his apartment. I handed Brian my jacket and he hung it next to his in a small closet by the door.
“Yeah, Man, I’m counting on that myself. Maybe I’ll finally be able to move out of this apartment. Rent in Brooklyn is ridiculous. I went apartment hunting with Julie last week and the only decent apartment was going for three thousand and it was a two-bedroom.” As was our ritual, Brian went into the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles. He gave me a Heiny.
“What the fuck is that in your hand?” I asked, looking at a beer bottle with brown liquid in it.
“It’s a Shandy. You want one?” Brian twisted the cap off.
“A Shandy? Does it have anything in it?” I asked, staring at the bottle.
“Yeah, there’s alcohol but it’s also sweet.”
“You are in love, aren’t you?”
Brian looked at me with this big smile on his face. “I told you. Julie’s the one for me.”
“Any woman who can make a man drink something called Shandy must be the bomb.”
“She is.” Brian lifted the bottle to cheer and I obliged.
“So, are you thinking marriage?” I asked jokingly.
“Maybe, after we do this thing. I have some stuff I need to take care of first.” Brian looked down at the ringing cell phone. “Speak of the devil.”
“Right on cue.” I left Brian to talk to Julie, whom we were meeting at a cafe in the city. I didn’t think my feelings for Julie had changed, but the incident with my father had put it on the back burner.
“We have an hour to kill because Julie won’t be leaving