Read Fixin’ Tyrone Online

Authors: Keith Thomas Walker

Fixin’ Tyrone (6 page)

Mia gave her sister a look and Crystal cocked her head and twisted her neck.

“Girl, you know Tyrone look just like that boy.”

The kids giggled.

“Yeah. He does look a lot like you,” Mia went on. “So, you’re not going to be scared when you see him?”

“Nope.”

“What are you going to tell him?” Mia wondered.

“Hmm . . .” TC put a finger to his lips. “The first thing I’m going to say is
where you been?

Mia and Crystal laughed, but the kids didn’t find too much humor in it. Mica tugged at her mother’s arm.

“What, baby?”

“When TC’s daddy get here, is he going to take
me
to the park with him?”

Mica’s voice was so sweet and innocent, Mia’s heart melted like butter.

“Would you like that?” she asked.

“Yes,” Mica said. “I wish my daddy wasn’t dead.”

“Oh, baby.” Mia wrapped her arms around the cutie. TC grabbed his mother’s waist from the other side and put his head on her chest.

“I love you, Mom,” he said.

Not to be outdone, Crystal wiped her eyes and rushed forward. “
Awww
. Group hug!” She grabbed onto the whole bunch.

Mia buried her face in Mica’s hair and no one saw her tears.

* * *

 

They ate spaghetti for dinner that evening. They didn’t always eat as a family; Mia’s work kept her away from the dining table at least three nights a week, so whenever all four of them were together, it was a happy time. Mica spilled a glass of lemonade all over her first plate, and they didn’t tell TC he had a tomato sauce moustache until the dishes were all clean and put away.

Afterwards they put in a movie and laughed at Alvin, Simon, and Theodore as if they hadn’t seen the chipmunks in a theatre just six months ago. Even Crystal stuck around, which was surprising because she had a new boyfriend and what he had in his britches had been the only thing on her mind for the last few weeks. After the movie Mia made the kids root beer floats and read them a few chapters from TC’s Goosebump
s
as they snuggled on the couch and sipped quietly.

She let them stay up a little later because it was Saturday night, but by 11:00 p.m. they were bathed, with sparkling teeth and heavy lids that made the Sandman’s job a little easier. Each was fast asleep within twenty minutes of their head touching the pillow.

After she tucked them in, Mia found Crystal in the living room. She lounged with her little sister on the leather sofa and told her about the creep she almost spent the whole evening with yesterday.

“Has he called since then?” Crystal asked.

“Yeah. He left me two, no, three messages today. He left one on the answering machine while you were gone.”

“I wish I woulda been here,” Crystal said. “I woulda told him something.”

“It was so
unreal
,” Mia said. “I’ve been with players before, but this guy was right out of a mystery magazine. I looked at his phone, girl, and all I saw was
letters
. He didn’t have
one
name in there.”

“How he keep up with all that?” Crystal wondered.

“That’s what his wife said,” Mia snickered.

“You sure that was his wife?” Crystal pondered. “You know it’s some shiesty bitches out there who’ll do some shit like that.”

“I know,” Mia said. “At first I was like, yeah, she’s telling the truth, but he left that message and now I don’t know. I mean, I know something’s up with him, but she may no
t
be telling the whole truth.”


Dang
. What if you busted out his windshields for nothin’?” Crystal pondered.

“I only broke
one windshield
!” Mia said. “And he’s still lying. Even if that’s not his wife, he still had pictures of his kids in there. He didn’t have no reason to lie about them.”

“What if them wasn’t his kids?” Crystal said, playing the devil’s advocate.

“I saw the pictures. They looked just like him—not like a close relative, either. One of them boys looks
exactly
like him. The girl looked like him, too.”

Crystal hummed. “That don’t even sound like you, Mia. I didn’t know you be checkin’ they phones.”

“I don’t,” Mia said. “When I stepped on it, if it wasn’t buzzing, I never woulda knew about this. And I still almost didn’t check it. But, girl, it was like
four
in the morning. I kept thinking about how good he was and how mad I was gonna be if I found out he was full of shit.”

Crystal smiled.

“I’m talkin’
good
,” Mia said. “I haven’t had it like that in two years.”


Damn
.”

“This was our first time, too, but it didn’t feel like it. He kissed my neck and whispered in my ears. Then he sucked my earlobes.”


Oooh
,” Crystal squirmed in the couch. “How come I can’t get no nigga to suck my ears? They do that when they tryin to get some. Once you give it up, all that snuggling stops.”

“I know,” Mia said. “That’s me, too, but Eric was different.”

“So, if that
wasn’t
his wife and those
might not
be his kids, you prolly bust his windshield for nothing.”

Mia shook her head. “He still had that secret agent phone—don’t forget. And those
were
his kids. I’m not a genealogist, but I know when that’s somebody’s kids.”

“You positive?”

“I’m positive.”

“Well, forget him then.”

“Easier said than done.”

“It was that good?”

“It wasn’t just the sex,” Mia admitted. “We went out five times. He took me to a nice restaurant; one where you have to get a reservation, girl. And he was interesting. He didn’t ask me a bunch of stupid questions. He was a good listener. He really knew how to treat a woman. I thought it was going somewhere.”

“Maybe it still is,” Crystal said. “You gotta at least call him to see what he says.”

“Yeah,” Mia said. “I might.”

“What you got to lose?” Crystal asked. “What else you got going? Oh, I forgot yo baby’s daddy getting out Monday. You could go out with Tyrone.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “I’ll go out with Eric
and
his wife before I go out with
Tyrone
.”

Crystal laughed, but she knew her big sister was dead serious.

* * *

 

Before she went to bed, Mia plucked her prison letter from the bedroom dresser and sliced it open with one of her neatly manicured nails. She wasn’t really interested in what he had to say—Tyrone always spat the same shit— but since she was probably going to see him Monday, she might as well read it.

Looking at his handwriting made her reminisce.

When Tyrone first got locked up, Mia really did miss him. For a while they shared deep correspondences, but eventually she moved on. Tyrone stayed stuck. Mia didn’t know what it was about prison that made men think they had so much game, but she stopped putting stock in Tyrone’s words a long time ago. His promises about what he was going to do when he got out and how much better their life was going to be together stopped sounding good five years ago.

Raising two babies by herself while pursing a higher education turned Mia’s compassion into resentment. Every time she looked into TC’s eyes, watched him crawl around in diapers and later walk, her pain grew deeper and her loathing for Tyrone grew red hot. But she got over it. Today she was lukewarm. Actually she was ice cold. Tyrone was getting out, and that was fine, but the only thing he had to offer was child support. Mia only wrote him back four times in the last two years, but he still didn’t get the picture.

* * *

 

Hey, girl.

I just want to say what’s up. Let you know what going on in my life. I told you this a couple months ago, but in case you didn’t get my letters I want to let you know I’m getting out next week. I’ll hit Overbrook Monday the 29th. I sent a letter to TC, too, to let him know. I can’t wait to see my little boy. I can’t wait to see you ether.

Thanks for the pictures you sent me while I was locked up. And thanks for the letters you wrote. I know you are busy. You got a job and you don’t have time to write me as much as I want, but you did write me sometimes. I appreciate that.

I know you say you moved on with your life, and that’s good. It’s good that you got a nice job and a house, too. I’m not mad at you. I just wish you would take me seriously when I say I want to do right by you. I want to do right by TC, too. I want to raise my son. Not just visit him sometimes when it’s my turn to see him. I want to raise him like my daddy didn’t do for me. I want to live with y’all and be his daddy and your husband.

You told me that you don’t love me no more, and I know how you feel. I know I hurt you and make your life hard when you had to raise TC all by your self. I respect you as a woman for that. You a strong woman Mia but you still not married. I think there’s a reason for that. I remember you loved me and we had good times together. If you remember the good times and maybe try to forgive me we can have a life together again. You, me, TC and Mica. I will raise her like she my own daughter if you let me.

Anyway, I’ll be back home Monday. See you soon.

Love

Tyrone

* * *

 

Mia folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. Six years later and he was still saying the same thing
. I wanna be TC’s daddy. I’ll take care of y’all. I’ll raise Mica like she’s my own. Blah, blah, blah
.

Mia wasn’t coldhearted. She didn’t think Tyrone was
purposely
lying about his intentions, but he
was
lying. When you’re locked up, you’ve got nothing but time to ponder all sorts of things: what you’d do different, where you made mistakes and how you’re going to make it all better once you get out.

But once they hit the free world, niggas like Tyrone only stuck to the script for about a month or so before old habits and old friends had them right back in the revolving door. Mia had no doubt in her mind Tyrone would be back in prison within five years of his release. She had seen it too many times. There’s no rehabilitation. The best Mia could hope for was that Tyrone would develop a positive relationship with TC before he messed up again.

And it wasn’t that she had anything against him as an individual; on the contrary, Mia really liked Tyrone. It was what he
was
that she couldn’t stand. She couldn’t understand what she saw in him to begin with, but whatever it was lingered a couple of years after he got locked up. She had
another
baby by
another
thug, and he wasn’t around today either.

Thugs.

That obsession was in her past, but Mia remembered when she couldn’t wait to get a roughneck in her bed.

* * *

 

She met Tyrone when she was twenty. Well, she didn’t meet him for the first time then, but Mia
re-met
Tyrone when she was twenty. They went to high school together, but were only casual associates then. Tyrone played basketball and dabbled in track, but his leanings towards thuggish behavior were already evident. He wore his pants below the waist, kept his hair long, and hung with the bad kids who smoked weed behind the gym.

In those days, Tyrone tried to stick anything that moved, but Mia was a good girl and their circles never crossed. She kept her nose in the books, avoided weekend parties, and could care less about delinquents like Tyrone, who struggled to make passing grades even in their electives.

Tyrone graduated a year ahead of her, and Mia completely forgot about him until they met again during her freshman year at Texas Lutheran. Mia was downtown with a few girlfriends waiting in line for movie tickets. When the light-skinned hooligan approached them, it took Mia a few moments to figure out who he was.

“Hey, didn’t you used to go to Poly High?” Tyrone had asked.

Mia looked the boy up and down, took in his baggy jeans, tattooed forearms, and fluffed-out Afro with no recognition. “I don’t believe I know you.”

“Damn, girl. Look at you—talkin’ all
proper
. I’m
Tyrone
. We was in the same health class. I wasn’t there a lot of them days, but I remember you. Your name’s Mia, right?”

Mia was flattered that this boy she didn’t even know remembered her name, and something else struck her as her girlfriends huddled and giggled in the background: Tyrone was
fine
. He had nice little muscles on those yellow arms, a dashing smile, and intense hazel eyes. Mia liked his jewelry. He looked
dangerous
, and he had a swagger. After a whole year of dating nothing but collegiate types, Tyrone had something about him that was altogether different and definitely alluring.

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