TAJ
My phone buzzed for the fourth time in the pocket of my khakis. I decided against ignoring it this time. “Damn, do I have to tell you in twelve different languages that I quit?” I hesitantly answered. “Jimi, I really can’t—”
“Man, I have been trying to reach you all afternoon,” he said before I could finish my sentence. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“It’s Vance. He’s not waking up.”
“What do you mean he’s not waking up?”
“I think he took too much shit.” Jimi sounded hysterical on the phone, hollering and sounding crazy.
“Then call nine-one-one.”
“I can’t call the cops, man, you gotta help me.” I didn’t have to do shit but stay black and die. Since when was Vance’s business mine? Leandra and Emjay stepped off the elevator. “Okay, just hang tight. I’m on my way.”
“Hurry up, man. I don’t know what to do,” Jimi said.
“What’s going on?” Leandra asked.
“I have to go. It’s an emergency.”
“Seems to be a lot of that going on around here.”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s fine, go. I’ll get a ride from Emjay back to the shop.”
I kissed Leandra on the forehead and said, “I’ll call you tonight.”
* * *
When I got to Jimi’s, the place was a mess—needles and traces of cocaine strewn on the coffee table like Monopoly pieces. “Jimi!” I yelled.
“We’re in here.” I walked toward the bathroom to find Jimi sitting on the edge of his bathtub cradling Vance’s head in his arms. Vance was deathly white.
“What the fuck happened?”
“We were smoking up and he started seizing. His eyes rolled back into head. I’ve been trying to wake him up.”
“Where’s Montez?”
“That twink bolted when Vance started seizing.”
I felt his neck for a pulse. There wasn’t one. “We need to get him to the hospital.”
“No hospitals,” Jimi said, snapping at me. “Look at this place. If we take him to the hospital, they will start asking questions, and then call the cops. I’m not going to prison because of this junkie.”
“Help me lay him flat on the floor,” I said. Jimi grabbed Vance by the legs while I took him by the shoulders. We gently laid him on the cold bathroom tile. I started to give him mouth-to-mouth. I put my ear to his chest in an attempt to hear a heartbeat. “Fuck,” I said. I began to press down on his chest in an effort to get his heart beating again. I didn’t know shit about CPR. “Please, God, wake up,” Jimi said. “I can’t go to prison.” Jimi was whining like a punk. He was always trying to come off hard, but really, he was soft as butter.
“Come on, Vance, wake up!” I yelled, as I began to beat on his chest with a closed fist.
After the third try, Vance came to, coughing and heaving. I rolled him over on his side, scared he would choke on his tongue.
“Thank you, God,” Jimi said. “You crazy junkie fuck, you scared the crap out of me.”
“We still need to get him to the hospital,” I said.
“He’s fine now, right?”
“Yeah, but we don’t know what could be wrong with him.”
“He had too much drugs, that’s all. Look at him, he’s good. You’re all right, ain’tcha, Big Vance?” Vance shook his head. “Jesus, I thought the bastard was going to die, but he’s okay thanks to you.” I wanted to put my fist through Jimi’s sleazy mug, but he wasn’t worth it. “He needs to walk it off, that’s all, get some food in him other than a crackhead lunch.” I knew there was no getting through Jimi’s thick skull. “I think I can handle it from here, Taj. Thanks for coming over.”
“I am so done with this shit. I’m done with you, him, the whole fucking shit show. If he dies, it’s on you.” I took one last look at Vance and walked out of the bathroom, past the living room toward the door. “Don’t ever call me again. You two are on your fuckin’ own.”
“Oh, yeah? Do you really think it’s that easy to just walk away? You signed a contract, Taj.”
“Do you think I’m going to step foot back on your set after this? Vance almost died, Jimi.”
“I’ll get him some help. Truth is, he’s used up anyway. He shows up for work late, he can’t stay off the candy long enough to fuck; I’ve had it. I need fresh meat, some new blood and you’re it, Taj, baby. You’re going to make me a shitload of money.”
“Fuck you and your contract. I’m done. I’m out.”
“You’re done when I say you’re done. I have plans for you and that Mandingo dick of yours. Tours, special appearances, calendars, sex toys, you name it. We are going to be so—”
I grabbed Jimi by his throat. “You might want to get your hearing checked. I quit. You can take your contract and shove it up your pasty-white ass.”
“Take your hands off me,” Jimi warned like he was going to do something. I shoved him back against the coffee table and hauled my ass out of that pig pit he called a house. “This isn’t over. I own you, you fuck. You signed a contract and that makes you my property.” As loudly as Jimi yelled, I wasn’t trying to hear him.
“Fuck you,” I said as I happily hauled my ass out of there.