“the bet” by KRF

The bet By KRF

“Robert, I need your half later today on that mortgage alright?” “I got you Betty, I told you that already.” “You told me a lot Robert but I’m serious that bill is gone get us if we don’t pay it. I need that money. I’m not playing Robert.” She kept putting on her earrings. Robert came up beside his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist and swung side to side. “Baby, Imma give you the mortgage, the electric bill, the water bill, and them two new pair of shoes. Since we talking about all the stuff you want.” He kissed her neck, and she rolled her eyes back. “It ain’t what I want Robert, it’s what we need. But keep them shoes of mine in mind. I’m tired of wearing those old raggedy thangs.” She did a two-step in her linen tennis shoes. “Baby, you gone be the manager up there soon. My baby gone be able to boss all them folks around and sit at her desk with the shoes on I bought her. Kick them pretty feet up. Ain’t no more cleaning them rooms, you the boss.” He pulled her in close and pressed his lips against her neck. “Yes, baby Imma be the boss. I talked to Lanyette today, she said since she’s transferring hotels n’ that they gone need a new supervisor. She said she recommending me.” “Ya see there. That’s what I mean. You gone wear them heels and click clack up them halls and check ‘em. Ain’t no more cleaning them.” “Yes, baby. No more. I still need that money.” “Woman, you need a lot.” “Robert, I’m not playing okay.” She kissed his cheek then his lips. “You come home with my money, ya hear?” “Imma come home with OUR money. But tonight I’m watching the game with Rags. After I get off

work”

She smacked her teeth and rolled her eyes dropping her arms from Robert’s neck. “That fool? Really Robert?” “What baby? It’s just the game. We always watch the game on Friday nights.” “That ain’t all y’all do. Y’all be spending my bill money up at that bar.” “Listen baby, you ain’t got nothing to worry about, we just watching the game tonight baby.” “Whatever Robert I don’t wanna hear that. Just come home with my money. Come home to your family.” “Baby, baby, I hear you. I got you okay.” “Alright now Robert.” 18

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat.”“Imma come home with OUR money. But tonight I’m watching the game with Rags. After I get off work” She smacked her teeth and rolled her eyes dropping her arms from Robert’s neck. “That fool? Really Robert?” “What baby? It’s just the game. We always watch the game on Friday nights.” “That ain’t all y’all do. Y’all be spending my bill money up at that bar.” “Listen baby, you ain’t got nothing to worry about, we just watching the game tonight baby.” “Whatever Robert I don’t wanna hear that. Just come home with my money. Come home to your family.” “Baby, baby, I hear you. I got you okay.” “Alright now Robert.” Robert was left alone in him and his wife’s bedroom as he dressed for work. He buttoned down his collar and wrapped his tie through the loopy-loop, and pulled. He grabbed his two favorite work shoes from underneath the bed and began to slide on the right leg’s socks. His bad leg was stiff as a plank, but it wasn’t artificial. An old knee injury left Robert unbending at the knee and able to stretch his 6’5 stature down to his foot and pull his left leg sock up around his ankle. He called into the room his youngest daughter. “Anna, baby. Come in here.” Anna-Lynn came into the room, but his oldest daughter, Alena, followed behind because she always thought Robert was going to give Anna-Lynn something nice since she was his favorite. “Yes, daddy?” Anna-Lynn said to her father swiping away snot bubbles with her wrist. “Oh baby you still got that cold going on?” Robert said on the ottoman at the foot of his bed. “I’m okay, daddy, Mama gave me some ‘Tussin. She said just keep blowing my nose.” “Yeah baby gone in the bathroom and get away them bubbles.” Anna-Lynn went into the bathroom of her parents’ room and blew her nose loudly. “Lena baby, come and help ya’ daddy.” “Uhnnnn-uh no. I know what you want. You want me to put on yo’ socks.” Alena said in the doorway. “You used to put my socks on for me. Clip my toenails too.” “I ain’t doing neither.” She said, putting her hands on her hips. Anna-Lynn came back from the bathroom with an ashy brown nose tip stripped of a little skin from too many tissue tears. “You need me to clip your toenails daddy?” Anna-Lynn asked. Robert looked at his toe nails and how they were long and pointed and curling over his toes. How long since the girls last cut his toe nails he thought? They have been cutting up his sheets and leaving holes in his socks. He didn’t have time for the girls to cut them now though. 19

“How about when daddy comes home tonight you can cut them sweetie. How about that? I just need you to help me put on my socks.” “Okay I can cut them tonight. I can do the clear paint again?” “Anything except that pink ya sister be putting on you.” Anna-Lynn giggled and picked up her daddy’s sock and began to slide it up. “I can’t believe you touch daddy toes. Mama don’t even touch daddy toes,” Alena said to Anna-Lynn, “but, daddy, Mama said to ask you for my field trip money.” “How much is ya field trip?” Robert asked. “Twenty dollars.” “Twenty-dollars! You know how much field trips were when I was a kid? Free. You know how much gas money is? Not free.” “Daddy, all my friends going, and mama said ask you because you got all the money.” That woman always after my money, Robert thought in his head. “Alright baby, I get paid today, so I’ll bring home your field trip money.” Anna-Lynn finished her sock duties, softly having dragged the sock up his foot to not puncture a hole in the tips of his toes. “And I’ll bring you something too for being my little pedicure agent.” He tickled Anna-Lynn’s sides and she giggled again.

Robert worked in automobile sales. He made his way to work around 8 AM and left at 6PM. In between 9 and 6, he sat behind his desk, worked the grounds, showed people a few vehicles, made one or two sales, a many maybes, then his favorite time would happen —lunch break. “Man they done won three games in a row, you can’t tell me Pittsburgh ain’t got this in the bag.” “Now you know them players can get in over their heads and start fumbling. Remember the Titans? Got too damn cocky third quarter, let the other team get in they head, completely bullshitted with no chance of a comeback fourth quarter.” “Who’s to say that’s the Pitts though? They seem levelheaded to me. Shit if I were on a 12-0 streak, I wouldn’t be too levelheaded myself. Plus look at Missouri’s scores, 8-4. They don’t stand a chance.” “Ya see that’s what fucks the whole game up. Thinking you got this. Underestimating folks. I’m telling you man, the Pitts gone lose.” Robert listened introspectively to his coworkers discuss tonight’s game. He wanted to throw in his two cents but never got the chance. Instead, he listened fascinated. Confident in who’s going to win. When lunch was over, he went back to his meager responsibilities at the dealership. Robert pulls out his phone and sees that there is still no confirmation message from Rags, but instead a text from his wife saying, “Don’t forget my money today, Robert.” Robert sighs and anticipates a drink from Jack’s later that night. The thought flurries across Robert’s mind of Robert shaking Rags’ hand with a rubber banded roll of cash sandwiched in between. Robert held a gaze with Rags and uttered something, but Rags just smiled back coyly flashing his single gold tooth. Robert’s stiff leg tightened at the thought, which made him wince and try to stretch it, but it could only go so far. So, he simply sat stagnant and anticipated that drink later that night.

A well-off couple comes into the dealership and one of Robert’s coworkers, Manny, rushes over to him. “Ya’ see them two? Oooooo boy, they smell like money. You got ‘em Robert or you want me to handle ‘em?” Manny says. “I ain’t had no quota in about three weeks now. I don’t need the boss looking at me crazy. I’ll handle ‘em.” Robert says. Robert begins to gather a notebook and pen, but when he tries to stand, his leg gives out, and he falls back into his chair immediately. “You still getting that surgery on that leg man?” Manny begins to walk off but turns back reading Robert’s disheveled nature. “I’m coming up with the money for it.” Robert says trying to unstiffen his leg. “Right.” Manny gave a chuckle and walked away in the direction of the awaiting couple. Robert watches Manny formally address himself to the couple, and eventually gives into the sessile leg and plops down roughly into his desk chair. The other salesmen were busy with other customers, but still had their attention subtly averted to the well-off couple. They all could smell it —money. Robert observed the couple too from the desk sidelines: the woman’s perfume dragged across the room like a rolled out red carpet. She had a ring on the size of the fingernail it sat on. Her lips were painted a ruby red, and she had on a slim-fitting casual dress to match it. Her pumps clacked like the sound he’d imagined his wife’s shoes would make if she wore heels too. The man who arms she intertwined hers with had a grizzly face that confidently screamed this is my woman without saying a thing. Robert thought on to how she didn’t say a single word. He wondered if he was henpecked, or if she just pecked him for money. What he did know, was that she just wrapped onto her husband’s arms –proudly. The husband wasn’t all fancy dressed, but he had on an expensive cologne that reaped suave with the accent e on the end. Robert looked on, curious as to what car they were going to drive off in. He stared in their direction, but they never looked his way.  When 6 PM hit, Robert sped to the cigar bar the men planned to congregate for the game. It was the cigar bar married men came to after work to seek a sports game with a nice cold brew that curled with foam around the glass rim; the bar men could slip their rings off or keep them on depending on how rousy it makes the broad; the bar men were not afraid to be men and get away with it. 

On his way into the bar there is a homeless man who asks Robert for money. Robert stops to open the cracked leather wallet and sees lottery tickets wrapping around the satin trimming with only $1.00 in cash to spare. Robert gives the homeless man the dollar and enters the bar. Robert shackled through the surge of Friday night game spectators and drunken buffoons until he got to his normal seat. “Aye Jack, whiskey.” Robert said, but Jack didn’t get on it. It was almost as if he heard Robert and turned around. Jack was usually surged with customers on Friday nights. All the married men came to Jack’s old cigar bar and puffed the place up with smoke. Accountants, electricians, musicians, HVAC specialists, practitioners, custodians, alike came to the bar to fill their heads up with smoke. The game went on and Robert finally got his whiskey. The Pitts were in the lead, and Robert patiently watched through his sweating glass and listened to the commentary of the bar. Someone in the bar said to Robert, “I see you ain’t talking shit tonight, Robert, ‘fraid you gone lose or sumn?” Robert made a simple nod of the head in his direction then turns and tosses back the rest of his whiskey. He looked at his phone again to see if Rags messaged him. Still no answer. His friend Rags showed up and Robert came alive. Rags took a seat at the barstool next to Robert without purchasing a single glass. Robert came alive at the thought of seeing his friend and began to poke and jive him with crass insults, Robert was also on his third glass of whiskey, but Rags was stiff and unamused by his friends taunts. Rags held his hands together and just watched the game quietly, just as Robert was doing before. Robert took notice and quietly returned to watching —it was game time. Fourth quarter the bar was a mess with shit-talkers and nay-sayers. “Man they gone make a come back! You don’t remember how—.” “Boy they team is ass, good looking out for them though that’s what cheerleaders do best —-.”

“All I know fool, is I better get my money once that clock strikes.”  Robert watched. Robert listened. The fourth quarter count down was in place and concubines grappled onto gentleman’s shoulders, and men grappled onto fair hope. The last quarter and the Pitts have been neck and neck with Missouri, but the Pitts sent the last shot. A stunning victory for all.  Robert felt his stomach drop then shoot up with a roar.  “Well I’ll be damned! I’m a rich man! That’s what I’m talking about!” Robert yelled.

said. “What is you talking about Robert?” Jack’s attention now on Robert.  “I done won $30,000!”  “Woooooweeee, damn that’s a lot of money man, congratulations.” Someone at the bar

“Yeah, congratulations Robert.” Jack said.  “Ya know what, shots on me.” Robert said. The whole bar raised their glasses to Robert. But Rags, unmoving the entire time at the occasion, slammed the table and walked away from the bar. The slam was loud enough for everyone to be seconds mindful of it but pay less attention to Rags’ unreasonable gesture as a bar norm.

Robert’s cheeriness was mindful of it so he followed behind his friends in a drunken daze of happiness. Disillusioned by his friend’s bitter temper.  He found his friend behind the bar in the vacant parking lot.

“Aye Rags, you heard that? We rich? I was getting nervous with all that commotion but for the first time I won big. We won big.” His friend didn’t respond, he just paced back and forth rubbing his chin. “Aye man you ain’t been looking too good tonight? You cool? I just ordered shots for us all so let’s go back in and grab one or two, and maybe even a honey or two, ya’know what I mean?”

He still did not respond. “I need the money too, I just ordered us shots and I don’t want to keep them waiting —-.” “Yo shut the fuck up man. Just shut the fuck up.” Rags finally said, still pacing. “Aye man, I’m just asking where the money at? The bet was for 30K you should be—-.” “Robert shut the fuck up, I’m serious man.” “I gave you $8,000 where the money at?” He pulled out a gun. “Man, I just want my money man, that’s it man,” “Robert shut the fuck shut the fuck up just shut up.” Rags pointing the gun more furiously with every stressed syllable. “Rags I have kids man, I just want my money that’s it I just want my —-.”

“He takes the shot: one, two, three, four, one, two, three, four, and he scores!”

Index

Brown, Isaiah, 6, 13 KRF, 15-17, 18-24 Herbert, Nailah, 10 Simpson, Bri, 7, 9, 12 Smith, LaTanya, 11 Whitaker, Javan Artwork: front cover, 3, 5, 6, 10, 14 XVA, 8

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