Byron knocked on the glass for the third time. "What the hell is wrong wit' ya girl?" he snapped.
Cleo came to her defense from behind her. "Shut up and git your change elsewhere ya big bully."
Bryon's beady little brown eyes gave Cleo a "why-don't-you-shut-your-mouth" glare. "Cause I can get it here,
whore."
Being called a whore didn't bother Cleo. "Don't you read, asshole?" She pointed to the sign above Nicole's
head, which read, "NO CHANGE OVER TEN." Marvin had instilled that rule because some of the cashiers were
being short changed.
Byron looked directly at Nicole. "Give me the change, Nick, or I'll tell your Unc you've been giving out
favors like your whore friend does."
Nicole took the twenty he slid under the bullet-proofed glass and changed it out quickly in the drawer. When
she set the bills back under the glass, Cleo grabbed two dollars.
"Give me my money, whore," Byron ordered, pounding on the glass.
Cleo giggled. "That's change cashing fees, asshole." She threw the bills in the tip cup by the glass. "Now get
your scrawny self out my face."
He hit the glass with his fist one last time before walking away.
"What's gotten into you, Nicole?" Cleo asked.
"Nothing."
"You've been staring at page two of that book for the past hour and there's nothing wrong? Is your uncle
pestering you again?"
Nicole blushed, looking over at Cleo. The woman had worked here for the past year. This was her second job
next to working at KFC across the street in the afternoons. She had six kids and paid the bills however she could.
Cleo was in her late twenties, but she looked older because of the cigarettes and liquor she’d took in all her life.
Her smoky black eyes, with a red-yellow hue around them, seemed old and dull, while her nappy short hair that
she kept in a low-bleached blonde afro seemed weary. There was a girth about her from all the bastards she had
produced, but that didn't stop the men from coming in real late at night and putting a twenty in the money slot
when she worked the window.
All Cleo would say is, "I'm going on break, Nicole," as she stuffed the twenty in her blue jean pocket and
went out onto the floor. The man would follow her into the women's bathroom and for twenty minutes, Cleo
would get their rocks off.
When Nicole asked her what exactly she did to those men, Cleo went into detail about her oral escapades. "If
I want more money, I hold their balls when they’re good and tight and I ask them if they want to fuck me for
twenty more. Most say, “Yes,” and I give them a good ride while they sit on the toilet. Then I don't let them come
in me, but I put it back in my mouth and spit it out in the toilet after they come. They think it's good."
After pushing away her disgust about the whole thing, Nicole thought the idea of it was kinky, but she would
never do it. Sometimes, the ones who had only heard of Cleo came to the window when Nicole was there. When
they would shove the twenty in the money tray, she wouldn't even look up at them, but point to the sign. They
would get the message and leave or wait around until Cleo came to the window.
She answered Cleo's question. "No, he hasn't lately. He's been in my mamma's drawers."
"Oh yeah, it is Tuesday. Is that what's bothering you, child?"
"No." She moved away from the window to help Cleo finish folding the clothes. They also did dry cleaning
and private washing for a lot of the sick and elderly in the area for a monthly fee. She told Cleo of the stranger she
saw sneaking around the neighborhood that morning.
"You kissed him?!" Cleo cackled.
"Hush or everybody in the neighborhood will hear your mouth."
"I can't believe you actually let some boy kiss you."
"He wasn't a boy." She smiled wickedly, remembering what had been pressed against her stomach and the
taste of him. "He tasted like a man to me."
"How did he look?"
"White, but cute."
"Oh dear Lord, tell me the girl didn't kiss no white boy."
"I said he wasn't a boy."
"Don't be falling for those blue-eyed devils, child."
"Don't get the Malcolm X religion up in here, Cleo," she snorted. "I'm not falling for no one; I was just
wondering what he was doing in the neighborhood."
"You know white people been moving back to this neighborhood all the time, but you don't need to go around
dating no white boy. Didn't you say your mamma married one?"
"Yes, but so what. They live a long way from here and I heard her say he doesn't like the city. He does his
business and leaves as fast as possible."
"They all do that. I had a few do their business when I used to work the corners on the east side. Trust me
love, it ain't all that and they just want a black woman to fuck, just like that white man wants your mamma. Why
you think he ain't caring who she fucks?"
Nicole confided in Cleo about her mother and Marvin's relationship. She had heard phone conversations of
her mother talking to other men and what she was going to do to them when she got over to them. It was no secret
around the neighborhood that Lynne Gray was a whore. She'd fucked everyone in the neighborhood and around
the city.
It didn't matter to Nicole, although some of her mother's former beaus sometimes got her mixed up. Nicole
was a shade darker than her mother, and she had Nanna's hair coloring of burnt brown hair instead of her mother's
black hair. Along with that, there were some features that distinguished Nicole from her mother if one looked
closely. She had a pudgier nose than Lynne and her fingers were longer with healthier nails, which Lynne kept
covered with manicured faux tips. Nicole was two inches taller also, at five foot six and a half.
Still, people had the tendency to mix her up and even call her Lynne, which she hated to be called.
"So tell me about how he looked in detail and if you dare say he was tall, dark and handsome, I'll rip your
tongue out."
Nicole giggled. "He wasn't as tall as Marvin. Maybe an inch shorter, but he was definitely bigger than my
uncle. He was cut and I could feel ripples when he pressed against my chest."
"Ripples? Damn, did you make him undress?"
"Let's just say, I was aware of a lot of things."
Cleo smiled wickedly. "What else?"
"He's strong. That's the reason I stopped because he was squeezing me so hard against him, but I didn't half
mind. He was clean-shaven with dark blonde hair and the prettiest green eyes I have ever seen. Like jade." Her
look went far away again. "He smelled like...expensive cologne and cigarettes."
"So he smokes?"
"That would be the reason why I smelled it, but he tasted like a man. A real man. Not some sweaty, nasty
bad-breathed ass."
"I thought you said all men would taste like that," Cleo teased.
"I know I did and before I kissed him, they all did. I don't think it had anything to do with his color, either. I
think he was naturally like that."
"I think you lost your mind."
Cleo closed the bag and stapled the order ticket on it.
Someone knocked on the window for change, but when the twenty came through the slot, Cleo smiled
knowingly and took the bill. "I'll be out in a minute, sugar lips," she promised the old man in the long trench coat.
"I'll finish this up," Nicole said, giggling as Cleo freshened up quickly.
"Thanks darling. After this john, I’m stepping out, too. Hold the fort down ‘til I come back in a moment."
Nicole finished up the work and then sat back by the window to try to finish up her lesson. She was two
months ahead of the school load, but that didn't matter to her. The sooner she finished, the faster she could get out
that house and when Nanna passed away, she wouldn't just be put out. She would have a nice job waiting for her,
although she enjoyed the Laundromat business.
If she ran the joint though, there wouldn't be any hanky panky like Cleo was doing. But she didn't run the
joint and Marvin didn't mind the cashiers making some extra dough on the side, just as long as he got a cut of it.
They'd slip him the money by making their drawers come up over an extra forty bucks.
Nicole had told Nanna about the dirty dealings and Nanna was upset, but she assured Nicole she had taken
care of things and soon no one would worry about the business, but Nicole. She had no idea what her
grandmother meant by that, but Nanna was still strong mentally although her body was giving up physically.
She prayed for Nanna's good health every day, but she and Nanna knew their time together was coming to an
end.
A ten came through the money slot and without looking at the face, she picked up the bill, made sure it was
real, then put five ones and a five dollar bill in the slot. When the stranger continued to stand there, she mumbled,
"Can I help you?"
"If you don't mind," he said.
His voice instantly caught her ears and she looked up into the sea of green she had just been telling Cleo all
about. "What are you doing here?" she asked clearly upset.
"I'm washing my clothes, or do you do other things in this Laundromat."
She looked toward the bathroom. "Nothing you'd want." She picked up her book to ignore him again, but he
didn't move away from the window. Did he naturally look cuter by the minute or was it just too late at night for
her. "Can I help you?" she snipped, not at all liking the way her emotions were acting with him. It wasn't in her
nature to be so perturbed all the time.
"I need your assistance. I've never worked these machines before and I can't turn it on. I think it's broke."
"Did you read the instructions?" she asked.
"Please, come help me," he begged again. "I need assistance."
"What did you break?"
"The dryer completely stopped and I have already put my clothes and money in. Are you going to get me a
refund?"
She gave him a long, hard look then looked around in the lobby. At midnight on a Tuesday, there was no one
around washing their clothes. So why was this idiot out here tonight? "You wouldn't happen to be following me,
are you?" she asked suspiciously.
He snorted in disgust. "I've got better things to do than chase around little girls."
Cleo had gone out on her usual midnight run of Coney Island and cigarettes. She wouldn't be back for another
ten minutes. This would be the only time Cleo would be able to leave the store because Nicole's shift ended when
she came back. Coming out of the booth had never been dangerous, but she didn't really trust or like the man to
begin with.
Grabbing her tool belt, she let herself out the booth, making sure the door was locked. She allowed him to
lead her over to where he had set up to wash and dry his clothes. She was able to see the back of him and noted
for a white man, he had a generous helping of behind to go along with thick muscular legs. Whatever he did, he
worked hard at it. On the back of his leather jacket was "BLACK'S CEMENT - Made in America."
When she bent down to look at the dryer settings underneath the dryer, he asked, "You work well down
there?"
Nicole didn't know if he was trying to be funny or make general conversation. She decided either way, she
would ignore his question. Quickly she found the fuse slightly popped from the dryer box and pushed it back in.
Just as she stood up, she felt something brush against her backside and she gasped sharply, turning to him.
Before he could explain himself, she hauled off and slapped him in the jaw. "You pervert!" she seethed, then
ran to the booth doors and locked herself back in.
He came up to the window. "What the fuck was that for?"
"You tried to fondle me, you dirty old man."
"I'm not old and if truth be known, just yesterday you weren't trying to get away from me touching you then."
"I only did it to hide from my mother seeing me. I told you that! Get your things and get the hell out of here."
"You're one crazy bitch, you know that. You backed up against me when you stood up."
She gasped as if he'd accused her of lying. "I did not. Don't you dare try to make this look like I'm the one at
fault. If you want to throw out some truths, then you weren't dying to stop kissing me either, and the reason I had
to push you away was because you would have raped me right there in the alley."
He looked honestly angry at her accusation. "I would not. You started it!"
"And I had to finish it, too."
Cleo came through the front door and they were just glaring at each other. "Is everything alright, kid?" she
asked, observing both their expressions from the other side of the window where he stood.
"I'm fine. Some people just don't understand what ‘No’ means."
"Sir, if you're giving her trouble,” Cleo warned, “then you can take your stuff and leave."
He didn't even look at Cleo, but turned away and went to the dryer. Nicole hurriedly let Cleo in.
"What did he say?"
"Nothing." Nicole packed her books and notes up in her backpack. "I'm going home now. I'm really tired."
Cleo said worriedly, "Maybe you should wait until he leaves."
"He's a bunch of hot air, Cleo. I'm really tired and Nanna has visitors tomorrow. I need to get some sleep, but
I have so much to do at home."
"You want to take my car and just pick me up in the morning?"
Nicole tiredly shook her head. "I'll be okay."
"I'll give you money for a cab ride."
"Please Cleo, stop it. I'll be fine." She put on her coat and hat, and then walked out the Laundromat in a hurry,
not giving the stranger one more look. But she could feel those cold green eyes on her, piercing into her back, as
if he wanted to cut off her air supply with just a look.
Once out in the midnight early December air on the west side of Detroit, she started home, not caring about
anything, except walking fast and being safe. She pushed thoughts of the stranger out of her mind. Maybe he was
just new to the neighborhood
Love Like This by Sylvia Hubbard