14
Instant Replay

Finding a close space in the evening or late at night was extremely difficult, to say the least, which was nothing like parking on my street in the early afternoon. Locating a place at nearly 1:00 AM was absolutely out of the question unless you happened upon some visitor pulling out as you came through. Still, I was fortunate enough to find a space newly abandoned at the end of the block opposite the entrance to my complex. Approaching the building, I checked for traffic and crossed the street. Natasha was in the same place she’d been seated when I left, perched at the top of the steps. When I passed earlier, she wore jeans with a pullover NYC T-shirt, but now, looked particularly stunning in a floral-print blouse and black fitted skirt that hit her not quite halfway the thighs when seated. Even in the dim light, the turquoise underwear was unmistakable from the bottom step as she sat with her knees a few inches apart.

I spoke coming up the steps while holding the rail that stopped beside the stoop where she sat. “Natasha…what’s up? How are you this evening?” I asked.

While standing and waiting for me to pass, she replied, “I gute, und howve ist chu?”

When I opened the door, she followed and started up the stairs behind me. Without turning around, “Not tonight, Natasha,” I said, “It’s been a very long day and I’ve got to get started again in just a few hours.”

“Jes zu tzalk,” she stated.

I unlocked the door, pushed it open, and commented, “But only for a few minutes. I have to be out early.”

Watching the skirt dance like it was intentionally teasing me as she entered my apartment, I suddenly began having flashbacks of the last time we were in similar positions. Pressing the remote’s power button, I immediately summoned the assistance of John Coltrane. Then, remembering her comment following the first incident about how she liked my jazz music, I, almost in a panic, killed the power on the stereo. The seldom watched television more or less served as background noise while Natasha took a seat on the couch and picked up a magazine from the small coffee table in front.

Sitting down at the opposite end, I asked, “So, what’s on your mind.”

“Vwhen I kome herve tzudaye, me likes spends tyme vwit chu,” she explained. “Uri alvays ist go avaay…”

I considered the nature of the conversation and pretty much figured out the direction it was headed. Recalling activities involving the two of us the last time we were on the couch, I became a bit uncomfortable and moved toward the kitchen.

I said, “Maybe talking to him would help. I mean, if you explain how you feel, perhaps he won’t be gone as much, or you can possibly go with him sometime.”

Natasha stood and approached the table, “Me not go vwit hime…alvready me aesk. He szay me, sztay homve.”

Colors in the floral print blouse prompted me to focus on the table’s centerpiece and my mind was pulled back nearly a week in time when the arrangement had been inadvertently knocked to the floor in the midst of our heated exchange. Seemingly, everywhere I looked, there was a reminder of the incident that, now, haunted me. What I’d begun to realize caused me to regret the dependency I was developing for the one woman I had discovered I wouldn’t mind depending on…Ernestina.

I moved hurriedly toward the door, “Well, Natasha, I don’t know what else to say. The fix just doesn’t appear to be in the cards,” I said. “If I had the answers to everybody else’s, I wouldn’t have any problems of my own.”

“In der kards?” she questioned.

“Oh, never mind,” I said. “But I have to get ready to go. Like I told you before, I only had a few minutes.”

“Chu goes beckt out?” she asked.

“Yes, I have to go somewhere other than here; anywhere other than here,” I answered. “It was a mistake to come home…should have just stayed where I was.”

In a tone that signified more concern than with which I was comfortable, she asked, “Butte vwhy chu goes beckt out dis laete?”

Trying not to show my frustration, I simply said while pushing the door closed behind her, “Because I have to.”

After she was gone, I went in to take a shower and prepare for bed. It seemed the water barely had time to get hot before I turned it off and reached for my towel. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP! I dismissed what sounded like a knock at the door as my imagination playing tricks on me given the level of fatigue. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, it came again.

From somewhere between being aggravated and frustrated, I grumbled when emerging from the bathroom, “What
the hell?”

THUMP, THUMP…the noise continued.

After retrieving my robe, I checked the peephole to see who was kicking on the door and snatched it open to be face to face with Natasha. I yelled softly in consideration of the neighbors, “What the hell is it now?”

She just stood silently and looked at me for what felt like an hour before speaking. “If chu cheange mindst und vwaant I kome overe…” she started.

I interrupted before she could finish. “No Natasha, I won’t change my mind about you coming over. I told you earlier, what happened before never should have happened. And it certainly shouldn’t have happened the second time, but listen, there’s no way I can allow that to happen again. You’re engaged and I’m…well…sort of involved.”

“Vwhat means szort of?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is the fact that you have a fiancé.” I offered, “Now, if you’d like, I can talk to Uri. Maybe see if there’s anything we can come up with to help resolve the problem you two are obviously having with communication.”

Frightened at such a ludicrous suggestion, Natasha was suddenly eager to go and, pulling my door closed between us, insisted, “No. Ist okay, I speak vwit Uri.”

I walked away thinking how much trouble this situation could have turned out to be if I’d chosen to get involved in a sexual relationship with Natasha as she had first suggested. It was uncertain to me whether she’d be back, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance. Without much consideration, I quickly dressed and threw a few pieces into an overnight bag. On the way out, I ran into the neighbor again at the top of the stairs. I didn’t even bother to make eye contact but hurried downstairs and out the door before there was an opportunity for her to start another conversation.

By the time I parked on the street outside Ernestina’s building, it was nearing three thirty a.m. with me still trying to make up my mind to call her. Getting out the car with the small duffle bag, “You’re here now,” I spoke aloud.

There was an elderly woman out to give her dog a chance to relieve himself who stared at me like I was somebody from America’s Most Wanted as I made my way through the gate. “She’d probably shit her pants if I coughed hard,” I humored myself in the process of crossing the courtyard.

As I started up the stairs, a familiar pair of military issue fatigues caught my attention as the man I’d seen earlier appeared to be headed to the same destination. “I don’t think she’s expecting you.”

“What was that?” he turned to look in my direction. “How you know who I come ta see? An’ what make you think they ain’t expectin me? Come ta think of it, what I’m doin ain’t none ‘o yo business noways.”

“Well, let’s just say I know a little more about your business than you do. At least, the business you came to see about, anyway. And I can tell you, she’s not interested,” I said.

“So, you’s the mutha…”

Considering the circumstances of the situation, I already knew where he was going and promptly scooped his legs to bring him down to my level. While pummeling him with several punches, “…and you never met my mom. Best you keep her name out your damn mouth.”

“Man, I don’t even know who the hell yo mama is,” he argued.

“All the more reason for you to keep your mouth shut about her,” I said. By the time I’d finished the barrage of blows to his gut, face, and head, we had essentially rolled to the bottom of the stairs. “The harassing phone calls, late night visits, all this stalking and shit stop tonight or you’re gone find it kinda hard to wake up one morning.”

Moments after the minor distraction, I found myself at apartment 206 trying to figure out why Randy would be outside her door at three o’clock AM. Unexpectedly, the lock disengaged and the door suddenly swung open.

“Oh damn!” Ernestina was as surprised as I was. “What the...! How long have you been….Willie, what the hell is it that has you outside my door after three in the damn morning? And why you breathing like you jogged from the Village?”

Suspiciously looking her up and down, “You obviously weren’t expecting me. Did I catch you at a bad time?” I asked, wondering whether she may have been expecting her ex old man.

Understanding my train of thought, she answered before I could comment, “Just get that craziness outta your big-ass head. I’m not one of your past encounters. Told you already; I don’t get down like that.”

I led, “Okay, I’m listening.”

Intentionally avoiding the answer, she asked, “Listening to what?”

Trying not to show any annoyance, I said, “To whatever explanation you might want to offer.”

She remarked with accentuated sarcasm, “And you are who?” she asked. “I’m Ernestina Lady…Ms. Ernestina Lady. Was I clear in stating Ms. Lady?” she repeated.

My expression confirmed I wasn’t in the mood, “Okay, I got your point, now answer the damn question.”

Realizing the significance of my trust issues, she volunteered an explanation, “Well, shortly after you left earlier, there was a report of gunshots outside the building. I remember hearing something, but in New York City, that’s nothing out of the ordinary. My being a police officer, and the fact most of the residents in this building are elderly; they naturally count on me to unofficially keep an official eye on things. Since you left me in the condition you did”—she laughed— “I haven’t been able to sleep much, so I just come outside occasionally to check on things.”

“I see, so you’re on duty, huh?” I teased.

“Well I’m never officially off duty; that’s one of the consequences of being a police officer,” she informed. “And what the hell is your reason for coming back here; you left a little after twelve?” she questioned. “You call yourself checking up on me or something?”

Trying to play off the seriousness of the matter, I questioned through an insincere laugh, “Do I have a reason to check up on you?”

With what appeared to be a smirk, Ernestina responded, “Only if you trying to see how boring my life really is.” She then posed in a more stern tone, “But seriously, what brings you here? I know you didn’t go all the way to the Village just to turn around and come back.”

I responded while displaying the small duffle bag on my shoulder, “I needed to go get the overnight bag with a change of clothes.”

“I think there’s more to it than that; the way you were talking about getting home and going to bed because of the day you’re facing tomorrow,” she reminded. “But I’ll let you get away with that lame excuse for now…since it’s so late. But you know there’s a charge to stay overnight, don’t you?”

“And just how much is it going to cost me?” I asked, before confessing, “You are aware, I don’t have any money.”

Ernestina took my bag and placed it just inside the apartment door, “That’s okay; I’ll think of something.” she said. “Come on; let’s check things out in the courtyard and along the street.”

Following her down the stairs, I complained, “I don’t work for the city; you’re the damn cop.”

“That’s police officer, thank you, and it should only take a minute,” she said. “I don’t much expect to find anything wrong but the rest of the tenants feel a little more comfortable when they see me out and about on the grounds every now and then. Besides, it’s more or less validation of the discount I get on my rent for being an officer and living in the building.”

I joked while opening the door, “Yeah, I feel so much safer when you’re around.”

Ernestina playfully slapped me on my butt, “Don’t be such an ass,” she said, while passing out the door and continuing. “I’m surprised you didn’t see something or, at least, hear the shots when you left earlier. I mean, seemed it happened just a few seconds after you walked out my apartment.”

“Well, you know how sometimes a person can get off into what they’re thinking and hours seem like only a few minutes,” I said.

“You can say that again, because I was some kinda caught up after you worked me over the way you did…Damn!” Ernestina shivered at the thought. “You can say that shit again a few times. From now on, I’ll just call you my lap dog.”

About the same time Ernestina made the comment, we were both surprised by the little elderly lady standing just outside the Iron Gate with her poodle. The woman coughed discretely so as to make us aware of her presence. We passed through the gate without looking in her direction, trying to conceal our embarrassment.

“Have you no respect for your elders?” I snickered.

Burying her face in my shoulder, “I didn’t even see her,” Ernestina said.

“Hell, hearing about it is probably the closest she’s come to actually having sex in forty years,” I mumbled. “If she’d been in the breezeway outside the apartment earlier tonight, the way you were carrying on would’ve short-circuited her damn pace maker.”

Ernestina playfully scolded me while punching my arm, “Stop that, you are so mean. That lady’s not bothering you.”

I whispered, “Looks like she has to be pushing at least a hundred and twenty. That dog is probably the only friend she’s got. I wonder if it’s male or female.”

“Okay now.” The police officer came out in Ernestina’s voice. “That’s just a little bit disgusting. To suggest the woman be making it with her damn poodle; shame on you!” Grabbing me by the wrist, she commanded, “Let’s go back inside before you get me kicked out the building; talking about these old people.”

I laughed. “You just want to get me back upstairs so you can take advantage of me…rob me of my innocence.”

Going back into the courtyard, she asked, “Can you honestly remember the last time you actually were innocent?”

By the time we arrived at her apartment, it was on the upside of four a.m., and I was starting to feel the adverse effects of having been in go mode since early the previous morning.

Ernestina asked, picking up the small overnight bag, “You prefer a bath or shower?”

“Neither.”

“So, you don’t shower or bathe?” she questioned.

I responded while tucking the bag under my arm, “Oh no, I’m straight. I jumped in the shower when I stopped by home earlier.”

“See, that’s what really has me confused. You driving all the way back to the Village for your overnight bag and a shower just doesn’t make sense. The shower, you could’ve taken here.”

“I agree with what you said earlier; that you’re never officially off duty but you are off the clock,” I clarified. “Put away the badge.”

Passing through the front room, she said, “Well, I guess we’re ready to turn in.” But then asked, “What’s your preference, the bed or the couch?”

In the process of sitting to remove my shoes, I commented, “If you’re going to make me choose, my preference is to be wherever you plan to sleep.”

“Just thought I’d ask ‘cause people have all sorts of strange habits,” she began explaining. “Like this one girl I used to hang with. She dated a guy for more than six years, and the entire time they were together, I never knew him to sleep in the bed with her at night.”

Her comment had me somewhat puzzled. “They lived together?” I asked.

Ernestina replied with a frown, “Yeah…well, after the second or third year they dated, she moved in with him. Even then, he wouldn’t sleep in the bed with her.” Ernestina’s eyes suddenly darkened. “Got it from his family that he’d been in the Army or Marines or something…Special Forces kinda stuff. Say he had a real bad experience in one of the conflicts, but you couldn’t get him to talk about it. I think they finally broke up and ole dude went away to one of those government hospitals,” she said. “I don’t know; my girl and me sort of lost touch a while back.” A few seconds passed as she pondered the thought. “Come to think of it…I wonder how René is doing these days.”

Pointing at my shoes, “Where do you want me to leave those?” I asked.

“They’re fine right there, unless you want to take them into the bedroom. I know how some people are funny like that. They don’t want their shoes too far from them when in a strange place,” she said.

I agreed with a slight chuckle, “Well, it’s just that when you’re in an unfamiliar place, you never know when you’ll have to leave in a hurry,” I explained. “A lot of strangers have been caught creeping and end up shot or dead because they couldn’t find their damn shoes. It’s never any fun running down the street or out across the woods barefoot.”

“Sounds to me, you know a little too much about those situations. How many times were you the stranger?” she asked.

My comment was intentionally defensive as I picked up my boots, “Again, take off the badge. You’re off duty tonight, or this morning; at least for the moment,” I said while confirming, “I’ll take the boots with me.”

She exclaimed in a whisper, “So, what are you trying to say! You think somebody will be coming up in here this time of the morning?” At that point, my host seemed almost offended, “If that was the case, you never would’ve gotten in the door. And I damn sure wouldn’t be talking about you sleeping in my bed.”

In an effort to defuse the mounting tension, I felt it better to simply abate the conversation altogether, “Speaking of your bed, you want to show me where it is—and possibly join me, if there’s enough room?” I laughed.

“Keep it up with the comments and you’ll find your smart ass on the couch for real,” she responded while playfully grabbing me by the neck, “Now get up and bring your butt on…Mr. Man,” Ernestina laughed. “Oh, you thought I forgot…told you it was gone cost to sleep over.”

Following her into the bedroom, I suggested, “How about I write you an I-O-U and we talk about a payment plan.”

She said with an inviting look, while stripping to her Victoria Secrets and climbing atop the massive oversized king bed, “Well, in a few short minutes, I was kinda hoping you’d be a little too busy to do any talking at all.”

I asked, placing my overnight bag on the floor, “You think this thing is big enough?” Feeling somewhat relieved at the sight of her in the Victoria’s Secrets, I commented, “I was a bit nervous at first because I don’t sleep in pajamas, but I see you don’t either...guess the boxers will have to do,” I said.

Reaching for the dimmer switch, “You want the lamp on or off?” Ernestina asked in the process of shedding her bra and thong underwear, “I actually don’t like pajamas either. In fact, I prefer to sleep in nothing at all,” she said. “Does that bother you? I hope not.”

While trying not to let her see me straining to make out the most remarkable physical features in the dim light, I said, “Well, what I was actually trying to tell you is that I’d sleep in my boxers, but if you’re comfortable sleeping in skins, that’s straight too.”

“Which side of the bed you want? You not a wild sleeper are you?” she questioned.

I reasoned while sliding beneath the silk sheet, “When I’m home, I sleep by myself. So the middle is where I usually end up. Do you have a preference? I mean, it is your bed.”

“That’s weird, I like the middle too,” she said.

“This big ass bed and both of us want to be in the same place. I guess that means we just have to stack up. I’ll gladly get on top if that’s all right with you,” I joked.

Reaching over and grabbing my shoulder to roll me onto her, “In all seriousness,” she said. “That’ll be just fine with me.”

There was an incredible heat that radiated from Ernestina’s flesh and the sensation of her feather-soft lips had me entranced with every succulent kiss as she repeatedly thrust her tongue deep into my mouth. The willing hostess moved from orally massaging my tongue to nibbling an ear and imitating Dracula’s bride; biting at my neck and chest.

I was caught up in the moment before realizing. “Baby,” I whispered. “Baby, we forgot…”

“Forgot what?” she asked.

“Protection,” I said. “You didn’t give me a chance to …”

“I know,” she said. “But its okay, we good.”

Pointing out the obvious, I whispered, “We’re taking a hell of a chance.”

“You safe?” she asked, before confirming, “I’m…safe.”

“Come on, one of us has to be the responsible adult. I’m not going anywhere. Give me a second to get a shield,” I insisted.

She joked, as her hold was relaxed to permit my retrieving protection from the overnight bag, “Okay, but that’s gonna cost you double.”

I searched aimlessly in the dark only to come up empty-handed. “Damn, I just knew I put some in the bag,” I said. “Maybe they’re in the car.”

Moving over to turn up the lamp beside the bed, Ernestina said, “That’s all right Will, give me a sec.” Opening the bottom drawer of the nightstand, she located a condom and handed it to me. “Relax, as a cop, I’m taught to always be prepared for any situation. Handle your business.”

With protection in place, I returned to continue where we had left off. Ernestina pulled and I pushed; rehearsing until our motions were synchronized and we appeared to perform an intimate waltz for at least half an hour before she reached the point of no return. On the eve of that moment, she let out an ear-piercing squeal that I thought would have the neighbors scrambling for the fire exits and dogs coming from miles around.

Gasping for air, Ernestina whispered while caressing my perspiration-soaked back, “Will…Willie…baby, you are incredible.”

“What I am sweetheart, is whipped. Go to your side of the bed,” I joked. “You are banished.”

“Seriously, are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah, I just need to breathe,” I responded. “Thought you said it had been a while.”

“Been a while since what?” she questioned.

“Since you did what you just did,” I gasped.

“Really, it has,” she said.

“If you weren’t out of shape, I’d be in a damn coma,” I replied. “Good night.”

Snuggling closer to me, she whispered, “Good night, baby.”