Novel Excerpt: The Crown: Ascension
Here's the first chapter of Hannibal Tabu's debut novel. The basics? Boy meets girl, boy and girl fall in love, girl turns out to be 8,500 years old ... much hilarity ensues.
Medusa left the stage under a cloud of applause and hollering, Tonya's mixed in with the capacity Fais Do Do crowd. Spent and hoarse, Tonya found her bar stool unoccupied and returned to it, ordering a bottle of mineral water and leaving two singles on the bar in front of her for the bartender.
"That was really nice of you earlier," a voice said from her left. She turned to see a six-foot, dark skinned Black man, clad in khakis and a matching vest, with an Xzibit t-shirt glaring out from beneath. Mentally, she started reaching for her quiver again when she saw his face, and audibly gasped. Her mind said,
Sanu, knowing it couldn't be, as Sanu had surely crumbled to dust in his grave years ago.
"Excuse me?" she replied after a moment, her footing unsure.
"The way you deflected that guy, Jamar?" the man continued nonchalantly. "That was tight. See, Different Light has been closed for two weeks for renovations, my editor was bitching about it all day when I turned in my voucher, since he's jonesin' for his special order."
Tonya sat back and smiled. "You were sittin' nearby ..." she began.
"... and I heard the whole thing," he finished. "Normally, sister wanna brush a cat off so she can watch the show, she's gotta get all indignant. You were hella smooth, though. The bookstore, the bit about following Medusa around, with her 'open sexuality' and all. Real layered, real believable. On behalf of brothers everywhere, I gotta thank you for using such a gentle touch."
The bartender left her water in front of her, and Tonya was caught flatfooted, her only possible response a guilty smile. This wasn't Sanu -- his voice was different, the short and immaculate afro was a long way from Sanu's braids, and Sanu surely knew nothing of gay bookstores -- but he had similar features, the same tilt of the head. If she thought he'd know far enough back, Tonya would've ask this man about his lineage.
"Well, I know it's rough for Black men," Tonya said slowly, "so I figured if he could get out of it without crackin' his face, everybody could be happy." A razor-thin wave of fear ran through her, knowing the dangers of letting a beautiful Black man like this talk to her.
"Just in time for the show to start. I wanted to compliment you on your method then, but if I didn't hear 'This Pu**y Is A Gangsta,' I'da been hella mad." The man sipped a glass of ... it was cranberry juice, Tonya could smell no alcohol in it or on him.
"Well, that's a real nice compliment, sir," Tonya smiled, realizing that she was dangerously attracted to this man, "and I thank you for it."
"Man, don't call me 'sir,' though," he cringed, "it's bad enough I had to leave my twenties behind last year. My name's James, James Edwards. Not that you got to give me any more love than old boy, just givin' you more to work with. I can turn around and leave you alone, if you want." Playing coy, he began to shift his weight towards the stage.
"No, you're cool," Tonya smiled, amazed at the fact she was getting gamed after so many years alone. "I'm Tonya. Glad to meet you, James."
He shook her hand carefully, like he was handling fine china, and never let go of her eyes as he did so. "I feel like I won the lottery, not gettin' shot down like those last three cats."
"You saw all of that?" Tonya laughed, her hands flying to her mouth like startled crows. Jamar was just the most recent of the would-be suitors she sent packing that night. "You must think I'm some ice queen."
"I think you a sister who was gonna see her some Medusa," James answered wryly, "and now that you have, you're in a much better mood. I'm the same way with Jeffrey Osborne."
"Jeffrey Osborne," Tonya nodded before taking a sip of her water. "That's not a singer enough people are hip to."
"It's just time, you know," James said, peering into his glass like it was a wishing well. "When I was little, he was like the Keith Sweat of the time. Ten years from now it might be Craig David. It's all cycles."
Despite every part of her mind telling her she couldn't get involved with this man, or any man, Tonya fell into the rhythm of the conversation. "You a music fan?" Tonya said.
"I write about music," James responded. "Music, news, sports ... I'm a freelance journalist. Music is my favorite, though -- you won't catch me at a sports event unless I'm interviewing somebody. That's what all those TV channels are for."
Tonya took another sip of water, still a bit off balance. She knew the consequences of her affections, the consequences of intimacy ... but it had been so long, and this was ... different. A rare pleasure.
If he's hitting on me, she thought to herself,
his style is interesting. No full court press ... hm.
"Oh, if you don't have anybody with you, I'll walk you to your car when you're done," James offered, raising his glass, not looking at her. "Crazy world, and all that."
Tonya dodged instinctively, habit kicking in. "I'm in the valet, I think I'll be OK."
"Oh, it's all good, no big deal," James shrugged, his finger tracing the edge of his glass. "I was just trying to act right. I was at a poetry reading and this guy was telling a sister he had to make sure he got her to her car, or they'd kick him outta the Southerner's Union. My folks got a kick out of that, since they're from the South, and it stuck in my head, so I try to make sure sisters get where they're going safely, you know?"
A satiny wave of attraction washed over Tonya, but she fought it down. "Thoughtful, cultured -- you're just a regular renaissance man, ain't you?" She figured his ego would lead him to tasteless boasting. She hoped. This felt too good, too right.
James smiled, a wide and engaging grin showcasing white teeth that threw her defenses into a tailspin. He affected a gruff voice and said, "I'm just a simple man trying to make his way in the universe," referencing the
Star Wars movie. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added, "Thought you knew!"
Tonya giggled, and immediately thought to herself,
I just giggled like a sorority girl. Why is he workin' me?
"I'm messin' around," James said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "For real ... you mind if I ask you about, you know, you?"
Tonya was surprised to hear herself say, "Not at all, my life is an open book."
"When's your birthday?"
Tonya managed not to hesitate, remembering the answer for this one. "September 4th."
"Virgo, okay. Not prone to acts of psychotic rage, good to know. What do you do for a living?"
"Actually, I'm an art buyer for a small gallery," Tonya said smoothly, this answer more familiar due to its veracity.
"Check you out!" James said appreciatively. "Art buyer! If you think I got culture, I must not be all bad. Hmph!"
Tonya laughed, an honest, open laugh that she felt down in her stomach. James' expression at the irony caught hold of her loneliness and spun it around.
"I just wanna get the basics out of the way," James said calmly, "since I guess you know I'm warming up to ask you out. I wanna find out in advance if you're some unemployed nutcase that's gonna be a bunch of drama. So far, so good. Oh, it's okay to turn me down, I'll still walk you to your car, don't worry about that part."
"Where
did you come from?" Tonya asked softly. "You all upfront with your game!"
"You wouldn't believe how many people ask me that. I'm from here. I grew up in LA, but almost nobody believes me. Went to Dorsey High, practically grew up at World on Wheels, the whole nine. Oh, and I don't play games."
"I guess not. I'da never took you for a brother from LA. So, I'm a Virgo, you must be ... what, a ..."
"Aquarius. January 30th. Freelance writer, but I do okay, my bills are paid. Photographer, wannabe graphic artist. Graduated from Howard with a Journalism degree. Thirty-one. B negative blood type. My resume is online at www.jamesfedwards.com."
Tonya noticed she was leaning towards him, open as hell to his advances, unable to help herself somehow. "That won't be necessary, I think you're cool. If you wanna go out, that's cool. You got a card?"
James patted his vest and dug around in the pocket before pulling out a worn black leather wallet, in which he filed around for a moment before pulling out a business card with a stylized photo of him, a name, and a phone number.
Looking at the logo she said, "Nice," actually happy to have a piece of evidence of how closely he resembled Sanu.
"That took me forever to learn how to do that in Photoshop. Then a dude at the Weekly showed me this shareware that did it in like five minutes. Worked my nerves ... sorry, techie talk."
"You're cool," Tonya said again, sliding the card into her purse. Grabbing her water, she stood. "Come walk me to my car? I'm gonna be sleepy as hell tomorrow."
James rose and replied, "It's already tomorrow, but you know. Let's rock."
The made their way out the side door and walked towards Adams. Tonya quickly produced her claim ticket and the valet darted off down the street. "Where'd you park?" she asked.
"Actually, my cousin Dave lives a block from here. I parked at his house. His wife made me promise not to come back all loud and wake the baby."
Tonya nodded, strangely nervous. "I really liked meeting you, James. Um ... do you know about that Freestyle Fellowship show in Inglewood on Saturday?"
"The one at the Main Event?" James asked. "Yeah, my man J-Smoov already put me on the list. I can get plus one if you wanna go."
Tonya's brain reeled at the idea she was actually into this guy. "That'd be cool. Maybe catch dinner before that?"
He nodded, glancing down slightly, his brain working at the logistics. "Yeah, I know a little soul food place on Century that'll be open. You'll call me, right?"
Tonya bit her lip, then said, "Uh, I can give you my number. That way we both owe the other one a call." Tonya dug out a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbled her number on it, and nervously handed it to James, just as the valet brought up her car. He accepted it gingerly, a slight smile crinkling the corners of his lips, as she climbed into her silver Chevy Malibu. She rolled down the window and waved, a gesture James returned, watching her pull onto Adams and off into the night.
As she made her way west, Tonya shuddered. "I can't remember the last time I was attracted to somebody," she thought to herself as she turned on the stereo, a Fela CD on track three. "I have to be careful, I can't get caught up in him." As the lights passed by her window, she told herself, "I'll give him the brush off on the phone. End of story."
| continue to part three | index |
