Tannika’s Free Writing & Flash Fiction: Flash From The Past 2

Welcome to my new series where I will be free writing and writing flash fiction to have fun, to regain my discipline as a frequent writer, and to stretch and strengthen my writing skills.

This is an old story I originally wrote during college, years ago, for my creative writing class. It is a fictitious, urban story that came from I don’t remember, but it was fun to write. Editing and few changes were made prior to publishing here.

     Jackey and the Stranger at the Bus Stop

Pt 2

“It’s about out dreams,” Jackey said in a calmer tone.”  “And what about your music? You’re like Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde One minute you graduating as an A student and claiming you the next Tupac,” she said raising her voice. “Now you’re running the streets Mr. Street Hustler. You promised your brother you were going to stay out of the streets.

“What my brother got to do with this?” asked Desmond.

Jackey didn’t answer. She stood quietly and watched as Desmond grabbed his black leather jacket from off the table. He looked at Jackey and their eyes met each other.

This time he didn’t smile. His thick eyebrows hovered over his dark deep eyes. Deep lines formed and rested in the center of his forehead. Sadness filled his eyes.

Jackey had always assumed that those rough facial features were just a look he possessed while growing up in their vicious neighborhood. But, these rough-looking features accompanied her to senior prom and stayed after graduation.

In high school, Desmond made A’s and B’s quietly. He turned in his homework assignments but seldom participated in class. Desmond occasionally got in trouble for fighting other boys who tried to test him. They would assume that he was an easy conquest because he was quiet and usually kept to himself. They didn’t expect him to whoop them like his life depended on it.

Desmond was not only quiet, but observant. He would stand around just watching the boys play basketball or the girls gossiping before morning classes.

At Carver High School, Desmond walked through the halls at a slow steady pace. He always had his head phones over his ears with the music’s volume turned up loud. The day of their senior orientation, Jackey spotted Desmond walking back to his class with his head phones on. Jackey was curious about Desmond. She liked him. So she approached him and asked, “what you always listening to.” Not too long after this, they became the cutest couple in their senior class.”

The “cutest couple” both loved music. Jackey enjoyed dancing and singing. She danced with their high school pom pom team. Desmond wanted to be a rapper. He rapped, imitated beats with his mouth, and wrote tirelessly in the bedroom of his brother’s apartment. He kept much of what he wrote and rapped to himself, also to Jackey as well as his brother.

Desmond’s older and only brother, Dawayne, encouraged Jackey and Desmond both to pursue their dreams. It was Dawayne who bought a keyboard, computer, and microphone for his little brother. “Y’all sound good. You guys can be a rapping and singing duo,” Dawayne would say while bobbing his head to the songs they created.

Desmond lived with Dawayne during his last two years of high school. Desmond left their mother’s home because of the man she had married. He was controlling and abusive to Desmond and his mother. Dawayne was twenty-five at the time, a high school dropout, and had spent a few years in jail for robbery. He was making progress when he took Desmond in. Dawayne was repairing cars by day and working on his GED by night.

Desmond respected Dawayne. He was the only one, besides Jackey, who supported him. He had encouraged Desmond through school so Desmond was devastated when he found out his brother had died in a car crash. It happened a month after Desmond and Jackey collected their diplomas. Desmond just sat quietly on his bed looking out the window after his mother had called him and gave him the news. That was four years ago.

Desmond had planned to go to college but worked a part-time restaurant job to keep the apartment. He dropped the job for his current ways of making money–selling drugs and with some success.

Jackey applied and got accepted to Illinois Institute of Art (IIA) to study voice and dance, IIA was her dream college. Although Jackey was majoring in music, she worked as a hairstylist at the salon of her best friend’s aunt.

Most days she would leave the shop at 10:30 and on those nights she would walk outside to the bus stop to wait for Desmond to give her a ride. Sandra, another hairstylist, and Brian, one of the barbers stayed late too and helped Jackey clean and lock up.

To Be Continued…

Tannika’s Free Writing & Flash Fiction: Flash from Past

Welcome to my new series where I will be free writing and writing flash fiction to have fun, to regain my discipline as a frequent writer, and to stretch and strengthen my writing skills.

This is an old story I originally wrote during college, years ago, for my creative writing class. It is a fictitious, urban story that came from I don’t remember, but it was fun to write. Editing and few changes were made prior to publishing here.

     Jackey and the Stranger at the Bus Stop

Pt 1

Jackey walked up behind the young man sitting at the glass kitchen table. Her long and thin brown legs stretched from the blue jean skirt she wore with a black shirt. The shirt read STAR in rhinestones.

She was quiet and not that that was her nature. But Jackey had a lot on her mind. He had the nerve to ask me to braid his hair, she thought. Still, Jackey neatly parted his hair one row at a time.

Although Desmond had become more of a stranger these days, he was still the love of her life. He was her best friend since high school and they always had each other’s backs. Jackey separated the row of thick, soft hair into three group strands. She overlapped the grouped strands forming Desmond’s first cornrow.

“Ah want that same style as Snoop,” Desmond said in a deep voice that carried its own bass.

“And I want that money that Snoop’s hairstylist makes,” said Jackey. But since I ain’t Snoop’s hairstylist and you ain’t any big time rapper Dez, we just gone have to work with what we got. I don’t have time to do any special styles anyway,” Jackey went on saying. “I have to leave for class in thirty minutes.”

Desmond let out a sigh and playfully jerked his head away from her hands. “Stoppp,” cried Jackey with an attitude. Although Desmond was playing, Jackey was agitated. He didn’t apologize for not making it to her dance contest the night before. All he said was, “something came up and I had to meet up with my peoples, Sean and Chris.”

“I ain’t gone braid your hair again,” said Jackey reaching for the hair that slipped out of her hands. Desmond bent his head back. His brown eyes met hers and he smiled a smile that softened his rough features. Jackey shook her head at the face that bore a long scar from his cheek to his chin. It was the scar that came a year ago from a guy who slashed his face with a box cutter. He was attempting to steal small bags of white, powdery substance from Desmond.

Jackey continued braiding Desmond’s hair. Out of the blue, an old song by Tupac began to play. Desmond flipped open his cell phone and interrupted “me against the world.” Jackey got quiet and continued braiding. “Man it’s in,” said Chris, the voice on the other end.

Desmond was quiet.

“When you coming. You know deez other fools can’t count,” Chris said as if he was speaking through a Walkie Talkie.

“Man you’re crazy,” Desmond said with a slight chuckle. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

Desmond hung up.

“You’re still selling drugs Dez?” asked Jackey who had been listening to the short conversation above his head. She let go of the cornrow she was braiding and looked down at his face. She expected him to look back up at her again to see her face of disapproval.

“You’re selling drugs and hanging with those dumb fools.”

“Man, I ain ‘t got time for this,” Desmond said getting up from the black cushioned chair he was sitting in.

“And why didn’t you come to my dance contest at my school? I don’t even see you unless you want your hair braided or you want some,” Jackey said angrily in one breath.

“It ain’t like you spending time with me,” said a composed Desmond. It’s all about you and your “I got dance practice. I got classes. I have to go to the shop. My friends and I going out,” Desmond said mimicking Jackey.

To be continued…