Tears on a Sunday Afternoon - Michael Presley [69]
The anger was still in her voice. “Donald, I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”
I thought about saying something to make her feel better but it might have backfired and made it worse. “Okay,” I said and hung up the phone.
I dialed Brian’s number to make arrangements to meet him.
“What’s up, Brian?” I asked when he came on the phone.
“I don’t know what’s going on with Julie. I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t want me to come over. She won’t even call me unless I call her. Donald, I think I’ve lost her. You’re her friend. She hasn’t told you anything?”
“Not a damn thing,” I said. “Brian, why don’t you give her some time? Sometimes you have to let a woman go for her to come back to you.”
“Yeah. I know that one and if she doesn’t come back, hunt her down and shoot her,” he said as muffled laughter came over the phone.
“Well, I wasn’t thinking of that extreme, but I guess that would work, providing you’re willing to go to jail over some pussy.”
“Donald, there you go again, thinking of women as pieces of meat. If you ever really fall in love, I’m sure that your opinion will change.”
“Maybe you’re right, Brian, but I believe my grandmother when she said whenever that happens I will be fucked. But, like you said, maybe I need to.”
“You are finally listening! Donald, in this world of trials and tribulations, love is the only thing we’ve got. Now, I’m begging you, please talk to Julie. I need to know what’s going on,” he pleaded.
If there was a place for sinners and liars, I needed to be first in line. “I hear you, Brian. I promise I’ll talk to her tomorrow. And I’ll see you tomorrow to return the thing.”
“See you tomorrow,” Brian said and hung up the phone.
I reached into the closet with a napkin and took the gun with two magazines and put it in a black shoulder bag. I had to get to the park at least two hours ahead of the meeting. When we had left the park the first time, I had made a note of where Malcolm was parked. With humans being creatures of habit, I was certain that he would park there again. I knew he would not bring any of his guards with him; he did not perceive me as a physical threat. I was going to make sure that was the last mistake he ever made. I was a man and I was capable of killing, just like him.
Chapter 19
2ND DAY
I walked into the church a few minutes after the service had started.
The scent of incense permeated the air. I had accepted the fact that I was beautiful and wherever I went women’s eyes would zoom in on me like bees to a hive. I ignored their lustful eyes in the church of the Lord and took a seat between a young boy dressed in a baby-blue suit and a young woman in a red and white dress. Her ample bosom was uplifted by the currently popular Wonderbra. She smiled; certain that she had won a prize. I smiled back in acknowledgment that we happened to be at the same place at the same time. The young boy, who could not have been more than six years old, nudged me to direct my attention to his mother; a woman whose best days had long passed. I returned her joyful smile, then directed my attention to the front of the church.
The pastor, an old white man in his late sixties, had a lot to say about the weakness in our characters. He called on his parishioners to leave the sex, drugs and meanness alone. He urged us to love each other and help each other. There were a lot of amens muttered in the church as each main point was acknowledged. I agreed with everything he had to say, including the fact that we were totally self-obsessed with our pitiful appearance. Throughout the service, I was aware of the closing of space between the lady in red and white and myself, until her ample chest was resting