The bus ride back was not at all as I expected. For starters, I was afraid to mention Lionel's smell, so that made things a bit awkward. Lionel told me he didn't do much during the break and I did not have the heart to confront him with what I knew to be the truth of his time at home. Our conversation was strained, but we talked for a little while and he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. I watched him sleeping and part of me felt like I should hold on to him and protect him from the horror that was his life. I guess that's the magic of love. I hadn't wanted to see him but after talking to him all I could think about was making everything better for him, but I knew there would be no kissing the booboo and taking away the pain. He looked so peaceful as he slept. I couldn't imagine what he was going through, but I promised myself that I would help him. I reached for his hand just to feel his skin. `Still soft,' I said to myself as I traced my finger along the backside of his hand. I took my hand away, not wanting to draw any attention to myself. "Why can't this be easy?" I whispered.
I closed my eyes once to try to get some sleep, but the images of Lionel and her wouldn't give me any peace. I gave up on sleeping and let my mind wonder with thoughts about Lionel and us and me and if it was really possible to help him. His damage was much more severe than I ever could have imagined. I wondered if some part of him knew the truth, but was blocking it out to save him from the trauma.
His situation broke my heart and boggled my brain. My heart cried out for me to help him, my brain told me the situation was too much for me to handle, so my eyes shed tears of confusion that I wiped away with my shirt. I gathered myself and sat there, burning a whole in to the top of his head. I stared at him until he woke up. He moved his head and looked at me. He took off his sunglasses.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
`Everything,' I thought. "Nothing," I said.
"You've been crying," he whispered.
"Just thinking. That's all."
"Thinking about what? Your fam? Did something happen while you were home?"
His question made me sigh. I wasn't the one something happened to. "No, it's not that. I don't know. I'm feeling emotional, I guess." I sent up a small prayer that he would let it drop.
He scrunched his nose and sniffed the air. "Eww, what is that smell?" He smelled me, and then he lifted his shirt and smelled it. "Eww!" he exclaimed as he let go of his shirt. "I stink. How can you sit next to me?"
"The smell started to fade after the first hour," I told him with a smile.
"You must really, well you know."
Yeah,' I thought, I must really love you.' He got a devilish look on his face and I knew he was up to something. He reached for me and I pulled away, "Don't do it," I warned him, but there was no stopping him. He pulled my head in to his armpit and I had a big whiff of his funk. I'm not sure he realized exactly how ripe he was, but the smell made me want to vomit. He released me and I was gasping for air.
"It's not that bad is it?"
"Worse," I told him as I waved my hand in front of my nose, trying to drive away that awful smell. "Did you forget how to shower?" I joked. His expression changed and I instantly regretted saying anything, but he was the one who brought it up.
"I woke up late," he said. His eyes had a sad look in them. He quickly put back on his glasses.
`He has to know something is wrong,' I thought. "Oh."
"Are we almost there?" he asked, changing the subject.
"I think so but I haven't been paying much attention." I suddenly didn't want to talk to him anymore. "I'm going to try to get some sleep."
"Okay."
I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes. I saw those awful images again, so I had to weigh two options: suck it up and see the images, or open my eyes and look at Lionel. I decided to endure the images. I hated pretending like I was sleep, but I feared looking in to his eyes more than anything. I felt him lean his head on my shoulder. I finally managed to fall asleep.
"Wake up," a voice said. I opened my eyes and became aware of Lionel's hand on my shoulder. "Wake up, we're there."
The bus came to a stop and the driver said something, but I wasn't paying attention. I was a little out of it as we got off the bus and walked to the local bus stop. We rode in silence on the bus and neither of us spoke until we reached our room. "We're back," I said as I walked through the door.
"Yeah."
The room was just as we had left it, but nothing felt the same. Lionel excused himself to take a shower and I sat at my computer desk, thinking about him and her. A picture on his dresser caught my attention and I looked up and saw them. They were both smiling in the picture and it looked perfect, but I knew it was all a lie, one big damn lie. I was so entranced by the picture that I did not notice Lionel return. He put his hand on my shoulder and scared the shit out of me. "Ahh." I screamed.
"It's only me. Relax." Lionel walked to his bed and sat down. "What's wrong with you?"
I looked at him and what I saw made me want to cry again. He had shaved and his brown skin was glistening. He only had on a towel. Usually I loved to see him half naked because he had a great body, but seeing him like that made me feel sick and I felt my stomach churning. His nakedness was repulsing me. I put my hand over my mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick."
He jumped off his bed and came over to me. He touched my forehead. "You feel sort of warm," he told me as I tried to shrink away from his touch.
I didn't want to feel that way around him and I didn't understand why I felt that way. I wanted to help him, I really did, but I kept seeing that image of him and her and I wasn't able to cope with it. Everything was too fresh, and I was starting to feel bipolar as my mind hurled between reaching out to him and running away from him. He reached to touch me again. "Don't touch me." I told him as I pulled away.
"What the fuck is your problem?" I didn't answer him. He backed away from me. "Are you on that shit again?"
"What shit?"
"Niqua."
I honestly hadn't thought about that bitch since we left campus. "No, not that shit," I told him. He looked away. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He stood up and walked to his dresser. As he was rummaging though the middle drawer, I saw scratches on his back. "What happened to your back?" the cruel part of me asked, trying to somehow force a confession.
He turned around and looked at me. "You did it."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes you did!"
"When did I do it?" I challenged.
"I don't remember. You must have done it before we left."
"No, I definitely didn't do it. So if I didn't do it, who did?"
"What the fuck do you want from me?" he asked as he took off his towel and put on a pair of boxers. "I'm not cheating on you. You're the one who's always talking to strange guys!"
"You know I would never cheat on you! Don't try to turn this on me. Someone put those marks on your back," I told him. A tiny part of me felt guilty for pushing him, but I thought it was what he needed.
He stood in front of me and looked down in to my eyes. "Well I was at home the whole damn time, so if it wasn't you, who the hell do you think it was?"
"I don't know. Maybe someone you live with." I said.
He lived with her, so it was obvious what I was insinuating. He backhanded me and I fell out the chair, with the side of my face crashing against the floor. "Don't say that kind of shit!" he yelled.
I stood up and touched the liquid oozing from my lips. I held my hand up so I could confirm that the dripping stuff was in fact blood. His reaction had caught me off guard. I knew if I pushed him too far, he would lash out, but I wanted him to tell me. I had to hear him explain what was going on, although a tiny piece of me thought that I had no right to any explanation. I looked in to his eyes, and he immediately averted his gaze, but he was too late. His eyes told me he was caught. "You remember, don't you?"
"Remember what?" he asked.
"What happened while you were at home? You know who put those marks on your back, don't you?"
The look in his eyes frightened me. I started backing away only to run in to my desk behind me. He began walking towards me and I feared what he might do. "What are you trying to say?" he asked.
His eyes pierced me, bursting my balloon and deflating the bravery I felt. "Nothing. I'm trying to say nothing. I'm just talking."
"You're not just talking." He grabbed my arms and squeezed them, but he was speechless for a few seconds. His grip was starting to hurt. I could feel my body shaking. "Why'd you do it?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Come to see me."
"I thought you didn't remember that?"
"Ronnie told me you stopped by."
"So why did you pretend like you didn't remember?"
"I didn't want you to know how I lived."
"How long has she been doing that?" I asked, feeling a little braver.
"What?" His grip was still hurting me.
"I know what she did to you." I said.
He looked bewildered like I was speaking another language. He let go of me and backed away. "You don't know anything!" he told me. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. It was his turn to pull away. "Get away from me!" he screamed.
"I just want to help you," I told him.
"I don't need your help! You don't know shit!"
I thought our conversation was going to end with him admitting everything and telling me how she had been abusing him for years, but he had other plans. He retreated back in to his shell of denial. "It's okay, it's not your fault," I told him, trying to use the tactics I had seen on television.
"Just leave me alone!" He turned his back to me and walked to his dresser. He put on a pair of pants and a sweatshirt. "I'm going out," he said. I was still standing in the same spot. He left and I broke down. I fell to the floor and I cried. I was scared, I was confused, I was tired, I felt sick, and I was wondering if Lionel would be back. I hoped he wouldn't run away again.
The room phone rang and I answered it, "Hello."
"Put Jay on the phone."
It was her. "He's not here."
"Where did he go?"
"I don't know."
"What the hell did you say to him?"
"Nothing."
"I know you said something. You couldn't keep your damn mouth shut, could you?"
"What you did was wrong."
"What happens in my house is none of your business."
"Lionel is my business, and I'm going to make sure that he never comes back to your house again!"
"So you would take him away from his son?"
"What? You had a child with him?" I suddenly felt woozy.
"No! He did that all by himself and left me to take care of the little bastard."
`Ronnie,' I thought, realizing why the little boy looked like a miniature Lionel. "Well I have to go."
"No you don't. What happened to the days when we used to chat?"
"Those days flew out the window when I saw you with him. Ugh. I don't even want to think about it." I wanted to hang up the phone, but I couldn't.
"Oh, thanks for the present," she said.
"I bought that for Lionel!" I told her.
"I know, but we share everything."
The sick emphasis she put on `everything' was enough to bring me back from the haze my mind was wondering around in. Hearing that gave me the strength to hang up the phone. I couldn't believe her nerve, to call me and talk trash and rub her abuse of the man I loved in my face. I may not have wanted to sleep with him anytime soon, but I sure as hell didn't want her sleeping with him either. She was a sick person and he needed help to get away from her. I vowed that I wouldn't let him down. My goal that night became to save him from her and from himself.
I tried to call Lionel to check on him, but he wouldn't answer the phone. I wanted to find him and love him, I wanted to swoop down like his guardian angel and save him. I wanted so many things and that night I wouldn't get any of them. I called Lionel all night, but he never answered his phone.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the door unlock early the next morning. If I had known what was going to happen, I wouldn't have smiled when Lionel walked in.
c Lustyville 2006 Please send comments to lustyville@yahoo.com and check out my yahoo group at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lustyville.