Chapter Forty-Four
Forty-Four
I saw Noah for the first time in days. “Hey, Miss Thang!” he sang to me as he stood over the stove cooking an omelet.
“Hey, Miss Thang, yourself,” I shot back at him. “It’s been a minute,” I added as I pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and took a seat.
“I been here all the time—where you been?” he said teasingly.
“Around.”
“Uh-huh—got a new man?”
I smiled. “Something like that,” I said and then, needing to change the subject, “What about you? How you doing?”
He looked thinner, but his eyes were sparkling.
“Oh, I’m getting better by the moment,” he sang and slid the omelet out and onto a plate.
“Really? I didn’t know watching massive amounts of porn could do that to you,” I said slyly.
But Noah wasn’t biting. He totally ignored my sarcastic comment and said, “Can I make an omelet for you too?”
“Sure, why not?” I said and then thought about what it was I had to do in a few hours. “No, no never mind. I’ll grab something later on.”
After some mild chitchat, which was mostly bullshit that skirted around our real issues, I headed out and took the train up to Chelsea, to Abimbola and Cassius’s loft. We were going to do a test run today, to see how much my stomach could hold. We would use sugar-filled condoms as test subjects.
—
“Did you give yourself the enema?” Cassius asked after she swung the door open.
“Hello to you too,” I said as I breezed past her.
We’d come to understand that I didn’t like her and she didn’t like me. All the halfhearted attempts at civility had been thrown out the window after I received my down payment and agreed to be their mule.
I assumed that she, like most overly beautiful women, was insecure. I saw how she watched me. I wasn’t no slouch: I knew how to carry myself, and I may not have had her beguiling looks, but I was gorgeous, and we both knew it!
“Good morning, Chevy,” Abimbola greeted me. He was dressed in a green and gold dashiki. “My sister,” he said and embraced me.
“My brother,” I said and held him a bit longer, just to get under Cassius’s skin.
“Whatever,” she said as she brushed by us and disappeared into the bedroom.
“So are you ready for your practice run?” he said as I followed him into the kitchen. On the table was a silver tray holding forty sugar-filled condoms.
“As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
I sat down.
“Okay, now, you did give yourself a good purge last night, yes?”
I nodded my head. I was on that toilet for nearly three hours. I thought I was going to shit my guts out!
“Empty,” I said.
“Good.”
Abimbola pushed the tray over to me. “Okay, take your time.”
I look at the condoms and then at him. “Can I have a glass of water?”
“No, no water. It will fill your stomach. The condoms are oiled, so they will slip down your throat easily. Just take your time.”
“Oil?”
“Canola oil.”
“Oh.”
I picked up the first condom and examined it before placing it on my tongue and rolling it to the back of my throat. I swallowed, and for a moment I thought that my throat was not going to cooperate, and then it relaxed and the condom slid effortlessly down my throat.
“You see, it is simple. Next one, c’mon, next one.”
“Slow your roll, Bola,” I snapped as I picked up the next condom and popped it into my mouth.