"Isn't smoking illegal for the Marines?" was my first statement.
He raised his eyes towards me, jumped off the car bonnet, asked me for the car keys, and I knew he wanted us to go somewhere. I just hoped he did not want to kill me or something.
So I let him hop in the driver's seat, while I got into the passenger seat. After getting comfortable and fastening my seatbelt steadily, I asked, "Where to, brother?" He did not answer but reversed the car a little, and headed towards the tarmac road, and we started the journey.
I sat there; it was the morning rush, of course, around eight to nine AM.
As Elvis drove away to an unknown destination, I thought about Aaliyah. She can't date that man. I found myself muttering, "You need to do something," subconsciously, and I didn't realize I had said it aloud.
"What?" Elvis asked, slowing the car and signaling. He was pulling into a hotel—'Pavilion Hotel' was written on the sign.
"Dude, a hotel? Really?" He just parked the car after the gates opened for us.
"Here," he said, removing two invitation cards from his coat pocket.
"What for?" I questioned as I took them from his hand. It was a wedding: 'a wedding?' I thought to myself. The card read James weds Natalie Henderson. 'Henderson?'
"Henderson?" I questioned. "Your sister?" I asked, surprised, and he smiled broadly.
"Yes, Aaliyah chose to bring her boyfriend, and I had no one to drive with, so…" he stated, and I just looked at him.
"Did you know about Aaliyah's boyfriend?" I asked, scratching my nose, pretending not to care much about it.
"Yes, they've been together for two years. I think this is the third year," Elvis said, and an alarming noise rang in my brain. It was high-pitched and almost hurt my ears. It felt like someone had given me news I barely expected.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I told you to stay away from her. Anyway, let's go." He opened his door to get out, and I stayed in the car, wondering what kind of idiot I was. Aaliyah had been dating all along. Was I just an experience she wanted to try? What did she take me for? God, my thoughts flooded as I tried to recall any hint of her speaking secretly on the phone or texting someone, but there was nothing. She always left her phone on the drawer, not in airplane mode, not switched off, just there. And no one called except Elvis, asking her about her education. Elvis never told me about their parents.
After a long inner monologue, I finally opened the door. After fixing my tie, which choked me again as it had all night, I knew I was unconsciously tired, and my left jaw still hurt from Elvis' hit. 'I think I will stay for a few hours and then leave,' I thought to myself.
The hotel was well-placed and had a beautiful serene ambiance. I had never noticed it throughout my five and a half years in San Francisco. Maybe because I was more into myself and women. I don't like talking about the things I used to do. I am happy I have become a good boy.
Anyway, the hotel had a straight pathway after the parking lot that led into the restaurant. Beyond the ground floor restaurant, there was a left door for Park A and a right door for Park B. It seemed both fields had events, and I was directed to the wedding I had been cornered into attending.
I didn't have any strong feelings about weddings. I just never thought much about them. It would be surprising to say that this was the first wedding I had ever attended in my almost twenty-seven years of existence. How would I have attended one anyway? My mother never enjoyed marriage celebrations. She lived in an all-black society and was more alienated from her blood family than anyone else. She just made it easy for us. Now that I have indeed grown a little older and developed my thinking capacity, I realize she was actually going through a lot, especially with my sister's father. He still visits, though—a now old white man who never cared what we ate. Anyway…
I sat next to someone. I did not seek to check who; I was lost in my thoughts about attending my first wedding and wondering if my jaw was still sore from the hard fist Elvis gave me. I had removed the bandages right before leaving the hospital, so I thought I was fine.
"Why are you here?" the voice next to me asked. I could easily recognize it as Aaliyah's. So I looked at her and then at her boyfriend. They were actually matching. I didn't know they were a couple, so I was surprised, but I am used to surprises anyway.
The boyfriend wore pure white clothes with a small black and red rose. Aaliyah, perfecting the look, wore a long white dress that covered her feet. I believed she wore heels underneath, but they couldn't be seen from her sitting posture. Seeing my obvious scanning of the two, she cleared her throat, and my eyes rose towards her face.
...and I knew this was where I always got lost.
She wore light makeup, her skin glowing more than ever. Her eyes were fixed on me, as if drawn to my presence, and unknowingly, my eyes drifted down from her slim nose that perfected her face and aligned her facial features, to her lips. They were now full, and she slightly opened them, as if wanting to say something but stopping herself by closing them again.
"...Can we all stand up for..." the priest stated, making me avert my eyes from Aaliyah. I stood up, and my heart started aching as it always did. The same way it did when it fell for Kate. So I looked at her again as we stood. The boyfriend was now almost the same height as her, maybe due to the heels she wore, but I was the tall one here, the same height as Elvis. I didn't pay much attention to my height, though, so I looked at her as she pretended not to feel the heat of my gaze. I didn't know why I just felt like looking at her; maybe this is what I missed all along—seeing her in the light, with the sun glimmering on her already glittering face.
'Bzzz,' my phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and saw Kate calling. I somehow remembered her new number, the one she used when she called asking for some cash. So, I excused myself and hurried outside, away from the whole park and into the restaurant, then to the car parking area as the call ended. I called her back. On the second ring, she answered.
"Kate," I stated.
"Hayzen, can I see you? I know you have a wife, but this time we need each other..." Her statements were becoming the worst whimpers any man hates, but when it comes from a woman you once truly loved, and it took you damn years to let go, man! It gets tough to say no. But I knew my stand with her. I needed to be strong and take this with caution, or else I might lose my star chasing my old stones that I once believed were precious. Okay, that was bad—she carried my child. That word made me a little conscious and loving towards her; otherwise...
"Kate, I am currently asleep," I lied. "I will send you anything if you wish, but I cannot do this to her—my wife, that is." I finished, being super confident when pronouncing "my wife."
"Do you have a wife?" a voice from behind me asked. I turned to see Aaliyah coming towards me, looking as if she were about to break down. 'Does this girl read minds?' I found myself questioning, but I ignored it.
"N-n-n... Aah... Ali..." I stammered. I didn't know why I was stumbling over my words. She looked outrageously beautiful in that dress. It had some red stripes at the bottom and flared out into an umbrella shape after reaching her knees, making her look like a mermaid, with their perfectly slim bodies and tail.
She was now just two feet away from me. I had hung up my phone right when she called out.
"Hayzen," she said, now looking up at me, her eyes welling with tears. I think I was hurting her. The next thing I did was out of an unwanted and dangerous impulse. I closed the distance between us and gave her a really wanting and slightly rough kiss, which she responded to by pushing me away slightly. I accepted her push, waiting for another slap, but she just looked up at me. As I stared at her now slightly smudged lipstick, I felt bad that she would have to fix it again, but I kind of wished I could make it worse.
"I don't have a wife," I admitted honestly. I wanted to tell her I wanted her; she was actually the reason I said I had a wife, but I kept quiet as a sharp energy shot through my brain.
"Are you okay?" she asked. I was feeling lightheaded, sure I would pass out anytime. Maybe she noticed the slight touch I made to my forehead and the side next to it after telling her I had no wife. My head wasn't hurting, just some vibrations (I'm used to getting them after long days of work and constant pressure), so I don't know why I touched it. It was something normal, nonetheless. My nerves were shutting down. I was feeling a light escape into a daydream. That's why I didn't answer her question. I wasn't able to formulate an answer. She was becoming slightly blurry. I knew she was saying something from her slight waving of her finger, so the next thing I did was take out my keys and say, "Home, apartment… Aali, Ali."
And she did that, as I made myself comfortable in the passenger seat, and she drove off.
"All…" I was foggy, feeling the need to just sleep and rest, but I felt like saying it, "...Aaliyah..." The word came out perfectly without any force from my brain's name storage system. "...Do you love him?... That boy... The white... the boy..." and I slept.