Copyright ©2020 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved.
No part of this chronicle may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.
THE W – JIMMY JOHN’S RESTROOM – 12:10 p.m.
It was minimal. Three urinals, two sinks, and on the other side were three toilet stalls. Sway had followed me into the last one.
“What are we doing?”
“Sit on the toilet.”
“Sit…?”
“Take down your pants and sit.” She reached for a liner from the carton and placed it atop the seat.
I lowered onto the crinkly paper. “What are you about to do?”
“Taste some of that sweet nut… That’s going to be my dessert.”
She pulled two more from the box, placing them on the floor in front of me. She kneeled, going straight for my sack. “This is fucking crazy! Someone’s going to need to come in here.” Sway jerked and stroked me. Her tongue was under my tip. I began to feel it. “Fuck…”
“Give it to me, daddy.”
“I’m about to…”
As the door creaked, Sway hurriedly climbed on top of me. “You didn’t lock it?”
“I thought you did. You were behind me.”
A voice spoke. “Hey there, fella. You don’t mind a little company, do you?” He took the stall directly next to us.
“Uh… No… Go ahead, no problem.”
“What’s that? What you say?”
“Go ahead!”
Sway was holding on; her knees were digging into my thighs. With her pussy in front of me, I jokingly took a bite. “Ooh…” She covered her mouth, slapping me across the shoulder.
“Having a problem, bud? Sounds like you could use a little fiber in your diet.”
“I’m okay.”
“I didn’t hear you? This damn hearing aid…”
“I said I’m okay!”
“Ahhh… Yahhhh…” His shit plopped and splashed into the bowl. The smell instantly flooded the room. “That’s how you do it, fella.”
“Andre, I’m about to puke.”
He continued. “That’s when you’re regular!”
“Let me up, Sway.” She took cover near the corner. I stood, pulling up my pants.”
The old man cranked out another load. “Yaaahhhh… Phew… That about hurt right there, I tell you what. I’m going to be out of here before you. How are you doing over there, fella?”
“I’m okay… Just finishing up.”
He laughed. “Try some prunes. That’s always worked for me. I’m eighty-two and I’m still flowing free as a teenager.”
“Yeah, thank you, sir.” I flushed, opened the stall, and headed for the door. I peeped out.
“I surely hope you’re a hand washer!” Between the frame, I could see a blue eye shining at me. His gray brow was angrily furrowed.
“Yes, sir!” I scrambled, holding my hands under the running water.
“There you are, son. We can’t spread germs. You were about to go out there and eat your meal.”
As he turned away, I looked to Sway, giving her the signal. She darted out.
“Hey! I saw that! What’s going on in here?!”
Our heads were hung low as we speed-walked across the restaurant. We were approaching the exit when we heard him shouting, “Stop those two! They were in here messing around! Funny business, I tell you what!”
HOME – 3:37 p.m.
“I’m about to go and pick up. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
“I don’t think so. Let me check the food.” Sway peeked into the refrigerator. “We’re good for a couple days.”
“Okay… I won’t be long.”
“How far do you have to go?”
“Garland. At the Chevron. It’ll be quick; in and out. The only thing that would hold me would be traffic, and today is Saturday, so…”
“Okay… I’ll be worried though. You know that, right?” Sway stepped slowly to me. She hugged. “I’m always worried when you’re gone.”
“I’m good, baby. I already told you I’ve been fucking with these Mexicans for years. Nothing to worry about… I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”
“Okay.”
“Let me get out of here.”
“You got everything?”
“My phone, the cash, my keys, and my wallet. I’m good.”
GARLAND – CHEVRON NEAR SHILOH ROAD – 4:06 p.m.
I was parked at the air and water hoses, checking my tire pressure, when the black Suburban pulled alongside. The passenger window lowered. “Hey, my friend. I got bad news.”
I was slightly panicked. “What’s up?”
We shook hands, making the transaction. “I’m going to be out for a while.”
“What? For how long?”
“A month or two, at least.”
“That long?”
“Yes, until shit calms down.”
“What happened?”
“It’s hot right now. You should be careful.”
“Well, let me stack up, brother. You got any more with you? I’ll take it.”
“That’s all, my friend.”
“What about later? Can I meet up with you later?”
“Everything is promised out already. I call you, you no answer. I say well…”
“Yeah, I know, that’s on me… You got anybody else? One of your people?”
“No, this is everywhere. But you got the cut. Wait a week or two, and they will be glad to have that. You can charge whatever.”
“Okay, I appreciate you, bro… Let me know when.”
“I got you, my friend.”
I watched as he drove away, knowing I was in trouble. I’d always had money stacked away. Not this time, though.
I went inside, searched the boxes for a Popsicle. I grabbed a grape, paid for it, and went back to the car. I relaxed against the front fender with my leg across the hood and unwrapped the packaging.
I took my time and enjoyed it.
Creole Gaudet
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