Something Slightly Shakespearean
“When is she getting here?”
“Yeah man, we’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”
Two teenage boys sat lazily in wooden chairs. One was short and youthful in appearance and sarcastic in mindset and the other was the polar opposite. The tall one rose from the seat and paced back and forth in front of the big window of the coffee shop. He was awfully impatient. I couldn’t quite tell if it was natural or it was the multitude of protein shakes he swallows per day.
“I’m getting tired of doing this,” he says. “We could be at a party getting laid right now.”
The shorter one crosses his legs and continues to munch on a bag of assorted goodies.
“God forbid she would show up on time, right,” the shorter one asks.
“Guys, please relax. She will be here soon, I promise,” I say.
As if on cue, a girl enters the door of the coffee shop. Her presence is noticed by all as she radiantly approaches me. She quickly throws both arms around me and lands her beautiful lips against mine. Here she was, my Superwoman, the one who saves me from all inevitable sorrow. Within her arms no problem seemed significant, not my parents’ divorce, not my brother’s suicide, and certainly not my failing grades. She made me happier than anyone could ever know.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hey, Sienna, I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.”
She left my arms and turned to both of my friends.
“Hello, Andrew.” She hugged the tall one. “Hello, Peter.” She hugged the short one.
They exchanged sweet nothings with one another but I could see my friends’ disinterest. They never liked it when I used them. We all sat down and she took a seat on my lap and threw her arms around my neck once again.
“Thank you for last night, baby,” says Sienna. “I can’t handle it when my dad gets drunk and makes rude remarks about everything.”
“It’s ok, I understand. I’m just glad I could help.”
“Aw, I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
She held me close and we all spoke together and the sweet smell of the café filled my nostrils with nostalgia and she smiled and I smiled and Andrew complained, and Peter made a sarcastic remark. Moments pass of conversation and every twenty seconds she looks at me and kisses me on the lips. Every ten minutes she tells me that she loves me and I tell her that I love her back and I kiss her with such conviction as if no one were around. Sienna holds my hand tightly and fiddles with each finger. Her perfume fragrance overthrew the roasted coffee beans. Her hands are delicate. Her skin is soft. Her big and beautiful eyes were mesmerizing. Her smile was spectacular. The world could be ending and if that were true I would be satisfied.
“You look so beautiful. It makes me so happy to see you.”
She caresses my cheek with the back of her fingertips. “I love making you happy, baby. You know that.”
Andrew continued talking to Peter about the party they were missing. Andrew was angry and Peter didn’t care. Peter would get upset when I asked him this favor. He didn’t like tagging along for he was desirous of our relationship. Andrew was too, but it was nothing alcohol couldn’t fix. He was a dipsomaniac and viewed handles as a band-aid for life’s awkward situations. Peter simply wanted to explore the lands of affection and know of its twists and turns.
Ten minutes must have gone by again because she says, “I love you.”
And I say, “I love you too.” And as I lean to kiss her lips, I hear…
“Sienna!” We turned to see a man standing at the doorway holding a cell phone. “I trusted you and this is how you repay my trust? I told you never to see him again!” It was her father. His cold stern eyes pierced through my own. Hatred was ever present. He bore a thick, regal mustache and had a receding hair line.
“Daddy—”
“Don’t Daddy me! Get your ass up and let’s go. I came to give you your phone and this is what you’re doing?”
“Daddy, no, I want to stay here. Stop it!”
My heart was sprinting at full speed. Her eyes were watery. Tears cascade down her rosy cheeks. The customers watched in confusion. The baristas peer under their green visors. Andrew and Peter watch without a word.
“Daddy! Why can’t you see how much he means to me?”
“No, I refuse to see any of it. What did I tell you about dating black boys? They’re nothing but trouble! I cannot believe you would see him. It’s just so filthy to me.”
The whole coffee shop was stunned, as was I. Several women gasped.
“Daddy, he is only half black and there is nothing wrong with that.”
“No daughter of mine is having black babies! Get your ass up right now! We are leaving.”
He approaches her and grabs her by the arm.
“Hey! Be easy with her! Don’t touch her like that!”
He seems astonished that I would dare raise a word against him.
“Who the hell are you to tell me what I can or cannot do to my daughter?”
“I am just saying, don’t touch her like that.”
“Boy, you listen here and you listen closely. You are not to try seeing my daughter ever again. Take a good look, boy, because this is the last time you will ever see her.”
“Boy?”
“Let’s go, Sienna. Now!”
She was hysterical at this point. Her tears and her fragrance were all that was left behind in the shop. Everyone just stared now. I could feel their eyes. Those eyes of theirs were soaking my body with sympathy. And I, still shocked, couldn’t understand how a man could be so hateful. I was still too young for such knowledge. He spoke as if I was an infectious intruder or a dirty suspicious character. To him, I was encumbering upon his ideal family legacy for he thought royalty and primates couldn’t establish a relationship. I was the vile disease and, to him, he was the antidote and that was the way things were because this was his world according to him and these were his rules we were abiding by. My friends watched me as I cried like a baby. All they could do was lend a hand in appeasement. Embarrassment was the last thing on my mind. The coffee shop was filled with Jazz music. All I could hear was soothing sounds of piano and saxophone; the sounds that spoke to me of people who could relate with my feelings. I wonder if they thought things would be different in the future. Was I a fool to think things would ever change?
