Educational Experience

Chapter Twenty-Eight

These little "transitional" chapters are the hardest for me. You want them to be informative AND to move the story along AND to entertain, and it's very difficult to juggle all that. So this one's not particularly "deep." But there are some stories in it that may make you happy.

And I think you can tell that this relationship is shaping up rather nicely already, too...

“You bet’ not get her mad, Lil Daddy,” Aisha said.

All the other people loading the Calvary Baptist truck with us laughed along with me, with good reason. Because little bitty Wyatt had just hauled this big ass box from the loading dock over to me and the other guys in the back of the semi like it was no thang at all.

And we all just stood there staring like we’d never seen a box before ‘til she hauled that one over. Which was especially silly in my case because I was used to watching Mike do “manly” stuff like that all the time. I mean, she is, in her heart of hearts, a guy.

No, really. She likes girly things to a degree, but the way she acts, most of the time, is more like a really cocky young guy would act. Right down to checking out women’s butts—and whistling at them and all that, too.

Yeah, I know. If you’re a guy you’re salivating right now—I don’t get that “lesbian love” thing guys have at all, myself. Though I do owe her and Cat, because they schooled me ‘way better than the brothels. I mean, they know exactly where the treasure’s buried, so to speak.

But the “Quien es mas macho?” prize would’ve gone to Wyatt that day, hands down. Wasn’t like she was competing with anyone or anything. She just jumped up there in the truck with me and the guys because she wanted to stay close, mostly.

And truth be told, I thought she’d change her mind a few boxes in. We’d already had a helluva “workout” earlier. But she went at it like a little Energizer bunny. Working off some of that pent up “tension,” probably. I know that’s what I was trying to do, anyway.

Even after all that bed time, we were about ready to spontaneously combust. Sometimes it got scary hot—I was sure anyone walked by either of us could feel the heat waves radiating. I also knew it wasn’t going to be easy to keep us a secret for long.

But we had to try. Especially in a big old crowd of churchy folks who would be scandalized for sure if we started climbing all over each other like cats in heat.

It also kept my mind off Maddie. Except that every few minutes I’d look at something wonderful going on around us and get all sad because she was never going to see anything like that ever again.

Her life had sucked for a long time before she died, but beautiful moments still happen sometimes—might just be the way the clouds pass by the moon one night when you happen to look up at just the right time. Those little moments save me all the time. But I was struggling a little, right then.

So I focused on the physical labor. And got a good laugh when one of those church sisters looked over at Wyatt and said, “Ain’t big as a flea, and she up there throwin’ them big boxes around!”

She’d rolled over some more boxes on a dolly, the church lady. And another one there labeling the boxes said, “Oooooo, word. I couldn’ git my foot thu’ them skinny lil jeans she got on! Let alone this big ol’ ass.”

“Well, I’d take a little of what you’ve got any day,” Wyatt told her, stopping to wipe her face and rest a minute.

That’s when Aisha looked up from her clip board and said, “What’chu talkin’ ‘bout, girl? Got a nice lil apple back there. Don’t she, Papi?”