Savage Shadows

Chapter 5

After Ericka had sung seven or eight songs, she wrapped up her set and thanked everyone for coming out. The emcee returned and asked everyone to give her a big round of applause. Chino"s eyes were glued to Ericka, stepping offstage. She made her way through the crowd, saying thank yous to the compliments she received. Chino watched her go to the bar.

He stood. He had to know. No matter what, he needed to know if they shared a connection. He strode towards the bar, sliding in beside her. Ericka ordered a glass of Patron. Chino spoke up, “Put that on my tab.” Both Ericka and the bartender, a thirty-something black guy, turned to look at him. Chino was trying to look cool, not looking at her.

“You got a tab?” asked the bartender.

Chino handed him his platinum card. “Make it so, number one.” The bartender looked at the card and shrugged. “I"ll have a whiskey, rocks,” said Chino. The bartender nodded and went off to prepare the drinks.

Chino turned towards Ericka now, raising his left eyebrow in that way women always liked. He grinned. He held his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I"m Chino.”

She smiled awkwardly. He could tell she was unsure, but she shook his hand. “Chino, huh? Where"d you get a fancy five dollar name like that?”

“My pops was a Charles Bronson fan.”

“I don"t know who that is.”

“Who? Charles Bronson or my pops?”

She smirked a smirk that said he was corny.

“Charles Bronson was an actor,” he said. “Chino was a movie he was in that came out the year I was born.”

Chino“I"m named after somebody famous, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Ericka Huggins. I"ll bet you don"t know who that is.”

“This might surprise you, but I do. Ericka Huggins was a Black Panther. Got arrested along with Bobby Seale.”

She lit up. “I"m shocked.”

“You didn"t think a white guy would know about that?”

“These days, half the black folks don"t know that.”

He started to speak, but the bartender came back. Chino and Ericka both smiled and took their glasses.

“So what, Charlie Bronson?” she asked. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to meet you.”

“What"s so great about me?”

He didn"t know what to say, so he blurted out, “Everything.” Ericka looked startled, and he felt embarrassed. “Not that I know you,” he said, backpedaling. “You just seem…” He wanted to say perfect, but instead said “really cool.”

EverythingShe smiled. “You know what, Charlie? I am cool.”

am“You wanna sit down and finish this conversation?”

She gave him a strange look, but relented, her features loosening. “You payin" for the drinks?”

He nodded, grinning. “All the drinks you want.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “You tryin" to get me drunk, Charlie? Are you gonna take advantage of me?”

“I just wanna get to know you.”

“She shrugged, looking radiant as she did. He saw that gleam in her eyes again. That gorgeous, heart-melting gleam that lit up already beautiful eyes. “I got nothin" else goin" on. Where you wanna sit?”

Chino turned and looked. He saw an empty table right smack dab in the middle of the crowded room. He hated crowds and usually avoided such placement, but right now he didn"t care. All he could see was her. “How about that one?”

She nodded and they moved to the table, sitting next to one another.

“What do you do?” she asked.

“I"m a mechanic.”

“That pay well?”

He shrugged. “I eat.”

She took another drink. Chino asked, “What do you do?”

She gave him a look like he was stupid. She nodded towards the stage. “What do you think this is?”

this“This is cool, and you"re good at it, but this don"t pay bills. Maybe one day, but not today.”

“Why you think that?”

“I used to do standup,” he said. “I worked the clubs.”

She lit up. “No s**t?”

“No shit.”

She looked at him, sizing him up. “You don"t look like a comic.”

“What does a comic look like?”

She thought about it. “I don"t know. The only comics I"ve ever seen were black comics. I don"t really go to comedy clubs.”

“Maybe you should.”

She deflected him, saying, “Maybe.”

“Tell me something,” he said.

She looked him in his eyes. “What?”

“You said I don"t look like a comic. What do I look like?”

doShe smirked. “You look like a cop.”

He frowned. “That"s f****d up. Why I gotta be a cop?”

She laughed hysterically. “You"re not a cop?”

“Trust me, girl, I am not a cop. Call me anything. I mean it. Call me a motherfucker, an asshole, a peckerwood white boy. Anything. But not that. Not a fuckin" cop.”

not“You don"t like cops?”

“I fuckin" hate "em.”

“My cousin Sharice is a cop.”

He didn"t know what to say. Then, thankfully, she said, “I never did like that b***h. When we was kids, she was always tellin" on everybody. No wonder she became a cop.”

Chino chuckled.

She asked, “I know why I don"t like cops. I don"t like "em because I"m black. But why don"t you like "em?”

“For the same reasons you don"t. The way they treat black people is awful. Everything from that "stop and frisk" bullshit to that cop shooting Orlando Castille in front of his daughter. And the cop got off.”

“They always get off.” She looked at him, studying him. “What"s with your ear?” she asked. “Why"s it look like that?”

Chino hated this question and had spent most of his life trying to forget he was missing half an ear.

“Oh, that,” he said. “I got in a fight with a motherfucker when I was a nineteen. We got into it and got to wrestlin" around on the ground. I was really givin" it to him, punchin" him over and over in the ribs.”

“Then what?”

“Motherfucker bit off part of my ear.”

“Like Mike Tyson,” she said.

Chino nodded. “f**k Mike.”

“So what happened to the guy?

“The cops showed up and everybody scattered. He got away, and I never saw the motherfucker again.”

“I"ll bet you think about him a lot.”

“Every goddamn day.”

“What was the fight about, anyway?”

“Funny thing is, that fight changed my life, but I don"t even remember what it was about. We were playin" basketball. Probably somethin" somebody said.”

“Was it you?”

“Probably.” Chino grinned. “But I didn"t deserve this.”

“I think it"s kinda cute, Charlie Bronson.”

“I was thinkin".”

“Yeah?”

“I was wonderin" if I could be somethin" else? You know, instead of a cop.”

She grinned. “What do you wanna be?”

“Literally anything else.”

“Okay,” she said, grinning. “I know what you can be.”

“What?”

“A country singer. You can play the banjo and all that shit.”

He stared at her, watching her giggle.

“Now you"re just fuckin" with me,” he said. “You"re intentionally naming every f****d up white guy occupation there is.”

“I"m sorry, Chino,” she said, calling him by his actual name this time. “I was just playin".”

He grinned. “I"m not offended.”

“That"s good.”

“Why"s that?”

She smiled a great big smile, holding up her glass. “So you can order me another drink.”

Chino grinned. He finished his and stood up. He went to the bar, got fresh drinks, and returned. He handed her the Patron.

“You seem like a nice guy,” she said.

“There"s a reason for that.”

“Yeah?”

“It"s because I am.”

“Every guy says that. I"ll bet Harvey Weinstein says that.” She paused. “I don"t know if you know this, but men lie.”

“That"s news to me.”

“How "bout you? Do you lie?”

“Sure, I lie. Just not about this.”

“Then what do you lie about?”

do“I lie about lots of things.”

“Tell me about your lies.”

“I went to the movies the other day and the kid at the register asked me if I was a veteran.”

“So you lied?”

“I became an ex-Marine and saved myself two bucks.”

“But you"re not lyin" about this?”

“I"m not.”

“Look, Chino, I like you. I really do. But I don"t really…” She paused, and Chino prepared himself for a letdown. “I don"t date white guys. I mean, I think you"re cute and all.”

“And funny,” he said.

“And funny. But I don"t… I never dated a white guy before.”

“You don"t like white people?”

“Not always, no. I got nothin" against "em, but most of them got somethin" against me. When you"ve lived your whole life with white people callin" you names and followin" you around the store, afraid you"re gonna steal somethin", you develop a distrust. But it"s not all white people. I mean, I got a girlfriend who"s white.”

“Ah,” Chino said. “The old "I"ve got a friend who"s your color so I"m not racist" bit.”

She frowned. “I read people pretty well. I like you. I"ve known you for a total of twenty minutes, but I dig you.”

“But you won"t date me?”

She looked him in his eyes, deathly serious. “If I dated a white guy, my parents would kill me, Chino. They were very militant, very pro-black. They raised me that way. I try to see the best in people, and I like you a lot, but my parents would have a heart attack.” She paused. “Correction. They would kill me first, and then they"d have a heart attack.”

then“Maybe they"ll like me.”

“You don"t know my daddy. I assure you he would not.”

Chino sighed. He tried to lighten the mood. “Who said I was gonna ask you out anyway?”

She smiled and stood.

“It"s been nice meeting you, Chino.”

“You performing tomorrow?”

“You gonna come?”

“I might be in the neighborhood.”

“I"ll be here.”

They both smiled.

He said, “Maybe our paths will cross again.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Which would you prefer?”

“You need to know somethin" right up front.”

“What"s that?”

“Even if you come back tomorrow, we can"t date. We can be friends, but we"re not gonna date.”

Chino smiled and winked. “We"ll see.”