Blackhumouristpress's Blog

October 1, 2013

Voices Carry

Filed under: Oprah,Short Story — blackhumouristpress @ 6:58 am
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Charles sometimes Chuck, Chucky or even Chas, made it through the 1980s level headed and drug-free. Nancy Reagan told him to say no and Chas listened. Except for a year or two when he took steroids to bulk up so as to not get messed with as young Marine recruit near San Diego, Chuck was not into drugs. Other than steroids, Chuck was drug free. Charles drug was his perfect body.
It was sometime in the 1980’s, the late 80’s that Charles was jogging in a pair of silky shorts with his shirt off and no socks in Minot, North Dakota. All he wore was a knit hat that had a smiling priest/friar swinging a baseball bat- San Diego Padres. Emily watched in awe as the young military man jogged almost naked on a night when the air temperature was about 5 degrees Fahrenheit. She stepped outside her parent’s home where her future was becoming a wife to some local slob who might drive a truck or a miner who was into wrestling and monster truck rallies. An Adonis jogged by in frigid temps and suddenly stopped to marvel at what he thought was the Northern Lights. The strange colors in the sky was a Chinook taking place. The frigid air gave way to a sudden rise in temperatures and hurricane force winds. Chas stood looking at the strange sky and inhaled the crisp air that was becoming warmer by the minute. Emily opened the door to her house and walked up to Chas without saying a word and took his hand. Charles took it to be a gift from god and an answer to prayer. You decide.
Charlie and Emily had been placed in places all over the world and all over the United States. The Marines had sent one of their top recruiters to live in Los Angeles. Charlie hated LA. To Chas, it was New York with palm trees. It was nothing more than an over-populated metropolis and what god had in mind when he was getting ready to destroy Gomorra. Or was it Sodom?
Emily and Charlie only had one child, a boy that they named Cliff. Cliff grew up in the San Fernando Valley. He played ice hockey and liked to sing. Cliff through inheritance had a very nice body for a young man. Cliff dyed his hair blond and cut it into a tall flattop. Cliff listened to early eighties New Wave music and watched every John Hughes movie that was ever made, tried to look like Billy Idol and was part of the Til Tuesday fan club, a band that was known in the eighties for a song entitled, Voices Carry. Cliff liked musicals and dancing and really wanted to be an entertainer, not a military man.
“Well sir, we stopped your son for crossing lanes twice on the 405 near Sherman Way before Roscoe without a signal. We have it on film if you care to see. We found eight individuals crammed into a vehicle that could fit four comfortably and then we discovered contraband, which brings a class two felony. Bond is set at $10,000.00. You can post bond or let your son face the judge on Monday.”
Charlie’s sharp jaw line grew tight as he spread out a stack of hundred dollar bills collected from an ATM. Cliff emerged from the holding pen in Van Nuys with his collared shirt unbuttoned and his lip slightly curled just like Billy Idol and Elvis Presley before him. Charles said nothing to Cliff on the ride home. Once inside their yellow stucco home in Granada Hills, Chas quietly began to ransack Cliff’s bedroom in search of drugs. Cliff asked his father rhetorical questions.
“What the fuck are you doing? What right do you have to go through my shit?”
“This is my home and I have a right to do what ever I wish. You have drugs in my house and I am going to find them. When the fucking ruby heads hid guns in their goddamn homes, I found them. That was my job to find hidden shit. I will find what you have hidden tonight without a doubt.”
It took a solid five minutes before Charlie overturned his son’s bed to find that he had cut a hole in the hardwood floor and had a stash of weed, cocaine and dildos in a box. There was a ten inch black cock with veins sticking out, an off-white one about six inches long and then a double dong. Charlie was paralyzed by his findings. Cliff spoke first.
“I confiscated things I found in this house so that when the day came when you would intrude on my privacy, I could then ask you what the fuck this shit is for. Is this going up your ass, some other dude or mom? You tell me. You tell me what this shit is used for and I will tell you what you want to know. The wholesome Marine loving god and country and rubber cocks… I’m ready when you are, dad.”
“Keep your fucking voice down. I don’t need the neighbors to hear what we’re discussing.”
Emily was reading Oprah’s O magazine about how Oprah trained for marathons. Emily was thinking about running a marathon too. Emily heard things falling earlier but never got out of bed to find out what the noise was about. Chas came into their bedroom with furrowed brow, looking distracted and disturbed. Emily put her hand on her husband’s and kissed his naked shoulder. Charles said nothing. Emily turned off the light on her side of the bed on a nightstand and settled in to fall asleep. She could sense that her husband was unsettled. Charles was famous for never showing emotion or discussing things. Charles nervously asked two questions at once just before Emily had drifted off to sleep.
“I have two things I have to ask you and I want the truth. Have you ever been with a black man?”
“Okay… What’s the second question?”
“Is a two headed dildo used for your ass and vagina or would you use something like that with an other woman?”
Emily chose to not answer. Charles acted as if the question was never posed. Other things came up again with their son and they lived mostly happily ever after. Or as good as could be given all the things that could happen in life in America.

I’m in the dark, I’d like to read his mind
But I’m frightened of the things I might find
Oh, there must be something he’s thinking of
To tear him away-a-ay
When I tell him that I’m falling in love
Why does he say

Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry

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