#udaku

"Hey," he whispered.

When they spun around to look at him, he trained his gun on both their foreheads. They both raised their hands.

"Don't even try for your weapons," he said.

One of the twins recognized him.

"You're that guy…from the club…long time ago," she said.

They were both still rocking short 'fros, but their hair color was natural this time around. The only difference between them was that the one who spoke had longer hair.

"I remember you too. What's your deal? Why are you two here?"

One twin looked at the other.

"Why are you here?" the longer-haired twin asked.

"The man with the steel in his hand gets his questions answered first," he said.

"We're looking for someone," the shorter-haired twin said.

"Don't tell him anything—"

"What difference does it make? Maybe he can help us—"

A light flashed over their heads. A car.

"Shit," N'Jobu said, "come on, we're going up to the roof. Move your asses," he hissed waving his guns directing them to move in front of him.

They all jogged discreetly to the building he came from and hauled ass up the stairs five stories and onto the roof.

"Get down," he said.

"We need to see if these are the people we're looking for," Long Hair said.

The three of them peered over the side and watched a security guard step from the car and check some locks on the building across from them. He left in a matter of minutes. N'Jobu eyed the women again.

"Who are you looking for?" He asked.

"Our brother," Short Hair said reaching into her pocket. N'Jobu aimed his gun for her head again.

"It's just a cell phone," she said pulling out the phone and swiping the face. She held up the phone to him. It was a picture of a little boy. He recognized the face from eight years ago. The child that used to be in Califia's class. She swiped another picture of their whole family in happier times.

"Terrell Greenley," he said.

"You know him?!" The Long-Haired twin said leaning forward. N'Jobu put away his guns. He knew they wouldn't do anything to him once he spoke their brother's name.

"My wife was his teacher."

The twins looked confused and hopeful at the same time.

"He was taken away from your home and placed in a facility in Los Angeles."

N'Jobu watched the short-haired twin cover her mouth and break down in tears. The longer haired sister breathed deeply.

"Are they still alive?"

"I believe they are."

The one twin tried to comfort the other and N'Jobu could feel their pain envelop him.

"We were in school when they took our family. Arizona State University. We didn't hear from our parents for a long time, so we caught a bus home and they were gone. Everything was just as they left it. Furniture, clothes…food. But they were gone and no one could give us answers. Because we were in college we were left on our own. We have been looking for our family ever since. The only clue we had was the white woman who showed up at our apartment before they were taken. That bitch I followed into the club on that night you were there. I was going to run them out for my sister to snatch up. But they had switched cars on us and got away."

"Tell us where they are keeping them," the Short-Haired twin said.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Kat. That's Randi."

"JoJo,' he said.

There was no sense in lying to them about who he was. If they were smart enough to detect and track S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, they were sharp enough to figure out who his fake self was.

"I don't know if they are still there. Eight years is a long time—"

"You are the first real clue we've had in a long time. Even if it's a dead-end, we want to find out for ourselves. Help us and we can help you out. You need weapons? We got that on lock. Need us to hack into some shit? We handle it."

He stared at the two of them. What a turn of life this was for them. College students turned spymasters and gun runners. He knew his job. Observe. Collect information. Do not interfere. The twins were attuned to his every facial expression. What could it hurt to tell them where the Los Angeles facility was? He wasn't going down there himself. All he needed to do was find the agents he was after and find out who their superiors were on the chain of command so he could report it back to Wakanda.

The sound of another car distracted them again.

The three of them peered over the side of the roof. Sleek silver caddy SUV with government decals. The agents they were all waiting for stepped out along with a third agent. Bingo. N'Jobu's glasses took pictures and sent the images to his computer at the apartment to start facial recognition. He scanned the plates on the vehicle. The agents walked inside the building across from them. His work here was done. He had already installed recording devices inside the other building. He could listen in on their conversations later in his safe house.

"Give me your phone," he said to Kat.

He found a notepad function and typed in the address of the Los Angeles facility.

"I don't know if your family is still there, but good luck. It's a fortress and heavily guarded," he told them wiping down the cell with his shirt.

"Thank you," Randi said. Her face was sweet-looking. It was hard to believe she was the same woman who jammed a gun in his side and was ready to take him out. What would they be doing if they didn't have to find their stolen family?

"Guess you won't need to follow ole girl anymore," he quipped.

"I'm going to kill her," Kat said. Randi gave her sister a glaring look. N'Jobu was shocked by the statement.

"Kat…" Randi said turning to face her twin.

"That bitch has got to pay. She was the one who found our family. She was the one who made them disappear. I don't give a fuck who she works for. Our family may be dead. But I will have the satisfaction of taking the last breath away from her. We don't need her now. He told us what we wanted to get from her. Her life is over."

Kat stormed away from Randi and headed toward the door that led back down into the building. Randi hot-tailed it after her. N'Jobu followed behind. He wasn't about to be caught at a murder scene.

Califia watched Erik try to handle two machetes in his hand.

She held her breath as he moved in time with her father inside the studio. The blades looked menacing and too big in her son's hands. She wanted him to practice with the sticks but her father insisted that he had to learn the way she did if he was going to be good. And sometimes one was injured when practicing martial arts. Her heart kept jumping as she watched Dante choreograph Erik's steps. She saw Erik's arms quiver as he tried his best to hold the weight in his hands. When he dropped a blade, she saw his whole demeanor change. He was angry with himself.

"It's okay, Erik. We all have to learn. We all drop the blades," Dante said.

Erik leaned down and picked up the machete again and when Dante hit it with his own, Erik dropped it again. In his frustration he threw down both blades and stomped away from Dante.

"JaJa!" she called out. Erik stopped, his back turned to her.

"Is that how you treat Grandpop?" she said walking around him.

Erik's chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were twisted up. His eyes were filled with anger.

"It's called practice, and it's called practice for a reason. You can't expect to be perfect at something right away. Those blades are heavy. You'll get stronger."

She could see his breathing calming down, but his face was still blazing with heat at his failure to hold onto the machetes. Califia glanced at her father and then she took a quick look at some of the other students in the class who were watching. Older teenagers.

"Show your mestre his due respect and then come with me," she said walking away from him and grabbing a light sweater to cover her t-shirt. She waited by the front door as Erik turned around and bowed to his grandfather. He then picked up the blades he had thrown on the floor and handed them to the next student, a sixteen-year-old who Califia thought was one of the best in the class.

She held the front door open for Erik and he walked out in front of her.

Once they were outside, they walked together side by side. She was going to take him to the corner market and get him some chips and an iced tea.

"If you want to be in Grandpop's class you have to control your anger when you mess up. I used to get mad all the time and you know what happened to me?"

He shook his head as he looked up at her.

"He kicked me out of the class."

"For real?"

"For real. I wasn't allowed to come back for a long time. You have to channel your anger sometimes. Make it work for you in a positive way so that it doesn't mess you up. Do you want Grandpop to kick you out of the class?"

"No."

"Then figure out how to use your anger, Baby. Anger can be a gift. I learned that lesson. When I was allowed to come back, I used my anger, my frustrations, all of that to get better at my skills."

He nodded and she rubbed the top of his curls.

"The machetes are so heavy," he said.

"I know, I remember struggling with them."

"Why can't we just have kid-sized machetes?"

"What, you want to fight with 2 steak knives?"

Erik giggled.

"No."

Closing in on the market, Califia could already see trouble ahead, the usual loiterers who hung around the front. The typical young thugnificents who had nothing better to do than hang around at night a pester people. It was tiresome.

"Hey, Miz Lay-dee!"

One particular annoyance called out to her with a sing-song voice and she rolled her eyes as they walked past him into the store.

"Roll them eyes if you want to but I still see you, Ma."

She saw Erik cut his eyes at the man.

"Ignore him, JaJa," Califia said.

She allowed Erik to roam around the store to get what he wanted. She picked up some rolling papers and a bag of Cheetos for herself. Not exactly healthy snacking, but she wanted something salty. She checked her phone and saw that N'Jobu was on his way home. She texted him that they were at the studio. He hit her back up and said he would pick them up and take them out for dinner.

"Can I have a coke?" Erik said.

"No. Ice tea is even cutting it close. You are in training."

"So are you," he said peeping her bag of Cheetos and rolling papers.

"Don't get smart," she said thumping his cheek playfully.

She paid for their snacks and was putting her card away when the loud mouth from outside walked in.

"'Sup, Ma? You and shorty doin' alright tonight?"

"We're fine," she said swiping her eyes at him.

"I can see you're fine," he said.

"C'mon, Erik, let's go," she said with some urgency in her voice. She didn't like the way this dude was coming at her, and she didn't want to make a scene in front of her son. The man had to be drunk or high, and there was no telling if he had a piece on him. Sometimes all it took was one tiny thing to set a man off before he became dangerous. It would be different if she were by herself. But with her son next to her, she wasn't about to pop off. She waited for Erik to walk in front of her so she could block him from the annoying man, but the guy reached out and slapped her ass. Hard.

"Ooh, you thick girl, I like that, yes indeed," he said, a slimy grin spreading on his lips.

"Don't you touch my mother!" Erik yelled.

Before she could reach out for him and pull him back, her child was up in the air, scaling the man's body and wrapping his legs around the shocked man's neck. Fucking. Him. Up.

"Oh, shit, Erik!" She yelled.

Erik had his can of ice tea in his hand and was smashing it repeatedly against the man's face. The man spun around knocking into a display of potato chip snacks. Erik dropped down and swept his right leg in a circle, knocking the harasser onto the floor.

"Okay, baby, come on, let's go!" She hollered reaching for Erik's arm.

"The fuck's going on?!"

One of the other guys from outside came in to check on his friend. Califia pushed him back.

"Bitch!" he screamed. Califia side-stepped him. "Erik, let's go!"

She watched Erik turn back around and stomp on the first man's side with his foot. The second man reached down and snatched Erik by his shirt hauling him up in the air.

"Nigga, let go of my son!" she yelled.

Califia struck the man in the neck with her hands, then shoved his head forward with the open heel of her hand. She reached for Erik and an elbow smashed into her mouth.

"Mom!" Erik cried out.

"I'm okay!" She yelled feeling blood dribble down her chin from the cut in her lip. The shit stung like a muthafucka.

Erik twisted around in the man's hand and bit him. The man dropped Erik waving his hand around while cursing up a storm. Erik ran to her and stood in front of her, blocking the two men from touching her again. She saw his hands draw up and his fingers curl into an ulwa stance. His father's way.

Califia heard her cell phone chime. She knew whose ringtone it was. She pulled it out of her pocket and saw N'Jobu's avatar. She swiped the phone.

"Where are you?" she heard N'Jobu ask.

"Baba, some man hit Mom at the store!" Erik yelled at her phone.

James was laughing at some corny joke Dante was telling him when N'Jobu pulled out his cell. Califia and Erik had only gone up the street according to Dante.

"You want to come to dinner with us?" N'Jobu asked Dante.

"No, you young folks go have fun. I'm beat. I need Cali to be teaching these classes now. These kids wear me out too fast. James, you should take a class with us."

James shrugged.

"I'm not much of a fighter, Mr. Stevens. I've seen Cali too. I don't know if I can keep up."

"Erik is the one to watch. The boy is fast. You should have seen him earlier, Dayclean. He was pissed when he couldn't hold onto the machetes. Threw them on the floor and had a fit."

"He threw the weapons down in class?" N'Jobu asked feeling disappointed with his son's behavior.

"Cali had a little talk with him. That's why she took him for a walk."

N'Jobu dialed Califia's number.

"Where are you?"

He was not prepared to hear his son yelling for him.

"What's the matter?" James asked when N'Jobu shoved his cell in his back pocket.

"Come on," N'Jobu said and James followed him out of the studio.

He felt heat rising in his face and his jaw grew taut. He could see the store ahead of him and soon his feet were moving faster. He could hear James running behind him.

When he shoved open the corner market's glass doors, he could see his son patting Califia's back. She had a piece of ice wrapped in a napkin against her lip and the store clerk was fixing up an overturned display.

"What happened?" he said touching Califia's face. He pulled back her hand to look at her lip. It was split pretty bad. Would probably need stitches. Her eyes were watery from the pain.

"We're okay," she said.

Erik tugged on his arm.

"This guy was talking rude to Mom, and he hit her on her butt. He said she was thick and then I jumped him… and then his friend came in and grabbed me…. and mom whacked him and then he elbowed her in the face!"

N'Jobu listened to every word and all he saw was red.

"Where are these dudes?" he asked.

James moved around the store looking for the men.

"They ran outside when the store guy threatened to call the police," Erik said.

No need for the police.

"Wait here," he said to Califia.

He stormed outside with James at his heels.

"They went around there, Baba!" Erik yelled following them.

"Go back and be with your mother."

"But you don't know what they look like, Baba."

He didn't.

"Erik, come back here!" Califia said.

"Go back inside the store!" N'Jobu bellowed.

"Just forget those grimy niggas," Califia yelled back.

He walked further down the street with Erik and James.

"There they go!" Erik said pointing across the street.

"Which ones?" he asked.

There were five guys crowded near an old modified Impala.

"The big one with the blue shirt and chain, and the one with the white sweatshirt. Blue shirt smacked mom's butt. White sweatshirt grabbed me and hit her," Erik said.

"Go back to your mom."

"Baba—"

"I said go to your mom. James take him back for me," N'Jobu said crossing the street.

He approached the men. They sized him up. Before anyone could ask what the fuck he wanted, he had one hand around the throat of white sweatshirt and a gun on blue shirt. The other three men jumped back.

"When my woman and my son go to the store, they shouldn't be bothered. Just minding their own damn business and you lil bitches want to touch her and then hit her?"

His hand squeezed white sweatshirt's neck tighter, the man's eyes bulged. N'Jobu took his gun and beat the man several times in the face with it before kicking him onto the sidewalk.

"Shit man-"

"What the fuck—"

"—unnecessary—"

N'Jobu stuck his gun in the face of blue shirt ignoring the other men's comments.

"See, you just should've let them be. But you had to touch her ass. What hand did you touch her with?"

Blue shirt's eyes were petrified, but he lifted up his right hand. N'Jobu grabbed it, and with one swift yank and twist down onto his uplifted thigh, he broke the man's arm. Blue shirt screamed to wake the dead.

"Touch them again and see where you all end up," he said.

The other men stood back.

"Get the fuck up outta here and don't hang 'round here no more. You won't see me coming next time. I promise."

The untouched men gathered up their wounded friends and piled them into the old Chevy. They drove off fast. Shoving his gun into the back of his waistband, N'Jobu turned to face the other side of the street. He saw Erik standing with James watching him.

"I told you to take him back to his mother!"

James shrugged, "You might've needed my help. I'm not going to leave you hanging, bruh."

N'Jobu looked down at Erik. His son's eyes were shining and he was quiet.

Shit.

He saw the gun.

"Don't tell your mother you saw your Dad with a gun out, young buck," James said looking at Erik.

Erik nodded.

"Let's get back to your mom," N'Jobu said rubbing Erik's head.

Califia stood inside the store waiting for them. She saw blood on his shirt.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"Nah. I'm good. Won't be bothered by those clowns anymore," he said reaching for her hand. He grimaced when he saw her lip again.

"You need stitches, girl."

"Shit," she said.

"Come on, we'll go to the emergency clinic."

They all walked back to the studio.

"What did you do to those guys?" she asked. Her voice sounded hesitant. Like she wanted to know and not know at the same time.

He didn't answer her. She glanced over at Erik and James.

"James?" she said.

"JoJo just took care of business, that's all."

She didn't ask Erik anything.

Four stitches closed her wound.

N'Jobu watched Califia sleep. He still felt rage inside his chest. Seeing her lip wounded like that kept him wide awake. She had described the way Erik just went ballistic in the store when the man touched her. He was proud of his son for defending his mother. He just worried that Erik would get the wrong idea about fighting, especially when N'Jobu pulled out a gun to beat a man with it.

He could've just used his hands, but he really wanted to inflict a huge amount of pain without injuring his own hand. Califia had been trying to persuade Erik to channel his anger in productive ways, and here he was using his anger to fuck up two men. In a way, it was productive. He was quite sure those men wouldn't be hanging around the store anytime soon, especially with the hurting he put on the two egregious characters.

He would have to have a private talk with Erik. Explain to him his violent act. He was enraged. He could've handled it another way. But the truth was he didn't want to handle it a different way. He wanted to fuck the men up for bringing ill will to his family. Molesting his woman, and breaking skin on her face…they were lucky he didn't kill them. Touching and injuring what belonged to him. He should've broken both arms and the other guy's elbow.

Califia shifted in her sleep, her body facing in toward him.

He reached out and stroked her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey. Still hurt?"

"Not so bad now. Painkiller kicked in."

Her eyes studied his face.

"Let it go, babe. It's over," she said.

He closed his eyes for a moment. This would sit with him for a while.

"How bad did you go off?"

His eyes opened back on her face.

"I did some damage."

"Did Erik see it?"

"Yes."

She sighed and turned onto her back.

"I wanted to mess those dudes up myself…but Erik was there…"

"I know. You didn't want to put him in harm's way."

"I get so tired of seeing men like that just being out there. The harassment and catcalling…the unsolicited conversations. Shit gets old. Erik has to see all that. He'll think it's normal to talk to women like that—"

"He didn't react as if it were normal."

"But I'm his mother. A relative. People see it happen so much that they become numb to it, especially if it's someone not connected to them. What if he grows up and thinks that shit is okay, just hanging out and acting that way—"

"My son would never do that."

"This place changes people."

"Not Erik."

"I hope you're right."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek and her fingers went up and touched his lips.

"They were lucky I wasn't there when it went down," he said kissing her fingers.

"I know," she said.

"I'm the only one who can touch you."

His hand caressed her neck then gently rubbed her shoulder before falling on her breast.

"Just me," he said squeezing her softness.

"You might have a permanent scar," he said looking at her lips again and touching her face. Tension filled him once more and she stroked his cheek.

"Don't think about it anymore, okay?"

She moved his hand back to her breast.

He thumbed her nipple then traced a finger onto her belly, raising up her t-shirt. His finger lingered on her abdomen then slipped down to her panties. He pulled them off and she widened her legs pushing the bedcovers down for him. He shifted his weight and his eyes fell to look at her between her legs. He dragged two fingers up and down her center until glistening juices began to ooze out onto her folds. He pulled her inner lips open to stare at her pink inside.

"Baby," he groaned plunging two fingers inside of her. Her pussy made squelching sounds and he groaned even harder.

"Look at my pussy…getting all juicy," he whispered moving his digits in and out of her. Her eyes never wavered from his. Her lips were pressed together, and he still felt mad about her injury staring at it until her bottom lip dropped down and she gasped out his name. He kept working his fingers inside of her drawing out more wetness. He felt so hard. He was sleeping naked and his cock jutted out.

Her deep sighs spurned him on and he added another finger and hit deeper against her walls.

"My spot," she hissed closing her eyes.

"I got you, girl. I got you," he said.

They heard the toilet flush from the bathroom. Erik was up.

Califia whimpered trying to keep her passion quiet. N'Jobu kept his fingers tapping her spot. Her back arched and he pulled his fingers out to play with her clit.

"Jobu," she gasped opening her legs wider.

His thumb swirled around her clit ring, tugging on it when it suited him, and he watched her face play out intense expressions to his touches.

"Bay-bee…"

"Shit," he said pushing his fingers back into her slippery pink slit. His own wide slit was leaking clear fluid onto the sheet. He needed to stroke himself.

His fingers made a loud sound when he pulled them out from her pussy and he groaned some more as he gripped himself. His strokes were firm and she indulged him by slapping her vulva with teasing fingers. When she pulled her lips wide open for him once more, he knew he was done.

"Play with your pussy for me," he said. She gave slow seductive swirls to her clit and then she dipped her fingers inside herself. He could see her delicate brown fingers coated with so much of her natural lubricant. It was pooling in slick drizzles all down her ass cheeks.

"Open up that pussy. Let Daddy see all that pretty pink," he said.

She pulled her labia open forcing her vagina to pulse. He could see it gaping open a bit more.

His hand tugged down forcefully on his dick, the wide head dripping copious amounts of pre-cum across his thumb and index finger.

"That's what they want," he choked out staring back at her pussy. Her clit was twitching and his face was pinched with desire.

"…Jobu…"

"They want this pretty pussy right here…right here…got that shit wide open for me…so wide open. You like doing this to me…don't you? They want Daddy's pussy…Daddy's pretty pussy…fuck!"

The build-up had gone beyond his ability to control. She had him. There was nothing he could do but let her lead him to the end. She owned him.

"…big dick…"

"…all yours girl…"

"…so hard Daddy…"

"…you did this…"

"…look at this pussy, Daddy…"

"…I see it…"

"…huhmmm…"

"…you did this to me…"

He rubbed his cock against her opening.

So. Much. Pink.

"Dammit…dammit…!" He yelled without meaning to, but his dick was already shooting out semen and it was drenching her pussy. All he could see between her legs was his cum and a small bit of her fingers holding her soaked labia open.

He jammed his fingers inside of her shocking her, causing her fingers to let go of her sticky swollen inner lips. He pushed his cum inside of her with his ring finger and index finger and his thumb pressed onto her clit.

"Cum on my hand, girl," he commanded.

She whimpered and he saw her tongue jab on her lip on accident and she hissed from the sting of her stitches.

"Cum on Daddy's hand," he said stroking her deeper. Her eyes squeezed shut and her legs shook.

"…Jobu…oh, Gawd…"

"There you go….there you go…keep cumming for me."

A sharp shriek escaped her lips and he was sure their son heard it but there was nothing they could do about it. He felt her insides squeeze on his fingers with tight pulses and then her legs fell back down on the bed. She was spent. And very satisfied.

Erik sat in the living room watching cartoons and eating a big bowl of frosted flakes. N'Jobu sat down next to him on the couch. He left Califia asleep upstairs sated from his caretaking throughout the night. She probably wouldn't wake until noon.

"Son."

Erik glanced over at him.

"I want to talk to you about yesterday. Last night."

"Am I in trouble?"

"No. No. I just want to make sure you understand some things. What I did to those men…I was very upset about what they did to you and your mother. They disrespected you and they were inappropriate. You were right to protect your mother…"

Erik's eyes were questioning.

"I didn't want you to see me hurt those men. I was angry, very angry—"

"Mom said anger was a gift. You have to use it the right way. Didn't you use it the right way, Baba? Protecting us from those bad men?"

"In a way—"

"I don't understand."

"I didn't have to be so rough with them. I didn't need to pull out a weapon. I could've just used my hands…or talked to them."

"Talking won't change them. Grandpop tried talking to them, Mr. Anderson tried talking to them before too. They not the talking kind, Baba. You were right to beat them up. Nana says an ass-whoopin' never hurt nobody when they need it."

N'Jobu stared at his son. He felt a bit flummoxed from the conversation. The violence didn't seem to bother Erik. This didn't feel right.

"There's a time and a place to get physical. But you have to maintain control so you don't cause more problems or cause unnecessary pain."

Erik ate from his cereal bowl and for a few minutes, they both watched a spastic cartoon on the TV.

"Why do you need a gun, Baba?"

"The same reason your Grandpop and Nana have a gun at their house. Protection."

"But you're strong. You can beat up two people at the same time."

"Having a gun can help scare people so you don't have to fight them."

"Have you ever shot your gun?"

"No."

"Does Mom know that you have a gun?"

"Yes."

Erik was quiet again.

N'Jobu heard Califia moving around upstairs.

"I don't want you to think that using force is always the first and best way to go. It should be the last thing you need to use when confronting problems. Does this make sense to you?"

Erik nodded.

He hoped he was getting through to him. He didn't want Erik going off the way he did in the store all the time. He could really harm someone. He was like a baby rattlesnake. Full of strong venom that could be used all at once and a true danger. He would need to be taught to control his venom, control his abilities like an adult rattlesnake learns over time. If Erik could knock a grown man on his ass at eight years of age, there was no telling what he could do when he became a man. And if he was mixing capoeira with ulwa already….N'Jobu would have to guide his son well to contain that power. He and Califia had a lot of work to do to shape him.

"Hey you two," Califia said watching them. Her hair was wrapped up in a scarf and her lip looked swollen still.

"We were talking about last night," N'Jobu said.

"All good?" she asked.

"Yes," he said giving her a look that they would talk later in private.

"You feel okay, Mom?"

"Yeah, baby. This will heal fast."

Erik finished off his bowl of cereal and took it into the kitchen.

"How is he?" she asked.

"We will have to watch him. I'm not sure that he really understands the ramifications. It's my fault. I didn't handle things well."

"You did what you had to."

"I reacted, Califia."

"It happens."

She dismissed the conversation and sat next to him on the couch. Wrapping her arms around his waist she laid against him.

"We aren't perfect all the time, N'Jobu. As parents, we do the best we can. Erik knows this," she said.

N'Jobu pondered her words then kissed her cheek.

Word got around about what N'Jobu had done.

When Califia came into the shop the men ignored her or tried their best not to appear like they were leering. Even Nate watched himself. Grown men looked at Erik differently. His small frame and easy-going nature was viewed in a new light.

No one retaliated or came up to N'Jobu regarding what he did to the two men. He kept his eyes and ears open, but the streets let it be known loud and clear: don't fuck with the Stevens family. The corner market had few loiters since then and N'Jobu was quite sure he wouldn't hear from any of those men he saw that night.

James kept his ears open too, and from what he reported to N'Jobu, most people were pleased that the corner men were dealt with in a severe way. No one else had ever got through to them about their behavior without being threatened or laughed at.

N'Jobu didn't want people to fear him, but if it kept his family safe, then he would accept the reputation for handing out beat downs as warranted.

Califia and Erik continued their training in preparation for Sao Paulo. They were face chatting with Negra Li and Soliel every week, their voices excited when speaking in Portuguese. Erik was pretty fluent and it was nice to hear his son master other languages. His Spanish was good, and the few Wakandan phrases he knew had a passable accent.

A month before they left for Brazil, N'Jobu gave Erik a Vibram tattoo inside his lower lip.

He cooked Erik and Califia a rich lunch of chicken stew and rice then made Erik sit in their living room on a chair. He numbed Erik's gums and used a special Wakandan tattoo needle to inject the glowing ice blue ink into the skin. Califia watched, her eyes fascinated by the color and symbols placed on Erik. N'Jobu wiped away blood and saliva, and when he was done, he showed Erik what it looked like with a hand mirror.

"When we go back, they will know you are one of us," N'Jobu said, "this is a key for your passage."

"What about Mom? Can she get a tattoo?"

N'Jobu glanced at Califia. She knew that she would not be marked. She wasn't Wakandan.

"That mark is just for you and your father," she said.

Erik didn't question why that was so, and N'Jobu was relieved that he didn't have to let his son know the reasons why. It would hurt Califia's feelings, and he didn't want his son to feel bad for getting something she could not.

"Don't ever show anyone that marking. That is just for Wakanda."

"Okay," Erik said admiring the glow in the hand mirror as he pulled down on his lip, "Can I see yours, Baba?"

N'Jobu bent down and pulled down on his bottom lip. Erik stared at his mouth and smiled, pleased that they matched.

Califia and Erik started playing a video game together and he sat back and watched them. More and more he began to contemplate going back home and taking them. It was time. His son was old enough to understand some things about his country. The isolation. The culture. The technology. The secrecy. His royal heritage. Maybe his next trip for the annual check-in would be the time to come clean. Right after their trip back from Brazil. Oakland was changing-a bit rougher, a bit unforgiving, a bit colder. His son deserved safety and a place that could nurture his brilliant mind the right way. Califia deserved to be pampered and in a place that respected women. He had a lot to think about.

Erik's eyes were huge when they flew into Sao Paulo. He had been there a few times when he was younger, but this trip was different because he was older and more aware of what went on around him. Califia had him wearing baby twists, something he wanted for the baptisado, and when they arrived at Negra Li's home, Erik blended in with Soliel and Aunjanue's daughter Marisol who was a year younger than Erik. He ran around the streets with Marisol speaking the language like a native, and when a group of kids that Marisol ran with joined them, no one could tell that Erik wasn't from there.

N'Jobu was happy to see Erik jump into friendships fast, his introverted nature disappearing the moment he was around Marisol and her little crew. The little girl's dark skin, cheekbones, and thick braids reminded him so much of his mother.

While the children played, the adults sat out on Lia's balcony talking political strategy, campaigning, and the upcoming baptisado. Califia was confident about receiving her final cord and fully embracing the title of mestre. Besouro was there in Sao Paulo, and N'Jobu knew he would really test his woman when she stepped into the roda.

N'Jobu stood looking down at the street where Erik ran around with the children. He held a glass of beer in his hand, and the aroma of Lia's cooking wafted out from the kitchen and tickled his nose. His family needed this trip together. They needed to be away from Oakland. The beginning of the year had begun with the death of a young Black man on the BART on New Years Day. Shot by BART security. After the corner market incident with Califia and his son, one of Erik's school friends' parents were murdered in a botched drug deal gone horribly wrong. Drive-bys were up too. The violence was getting out of hand. Some young punks even tried to rob Nate at the shop, but he was strapped and that didn't go off so well. Nate actually shot one of the robbers and had to file a police report. Luckily, his gun was registered.

"…taking threats seriously…"

N'Jobu's eyes broke away from watching his son below and fixed themselves on Soliel. Threats?

Lia sat on a plastic chair sipping on brown liquor. Her hair was piled on her head in a tight bun.

"We get threatened every time we stand up for ourselves and also when we do nothing. We have history on our side. We have more young people registered to vote than at any time in our local history. Change is coming. They will have to deal," Lia said.

Califia leaned against the metal pole of a clothesline smoking a joint, her one indulgence on the trip courtesy of Soliel. She took a long puff and let the smoke sit in her lungs. When she released, she coughed for a moment.

"Hard to stomach that your own neighborhood police force is actively against you," she said.

"They don't want accountability, especially coming from poor people," Lia said.

"They were able to defeat you last time because they had people convinced that law and order and draconian laws would save us here. The rich and conservative ate that shit up—"

"So did some of our people, Soliel," Lia said.

"Yes, it be our own people sometimes, but this year will be different. We have the youth on our side, and we have a lot of moderates siding with your platform. This is your year," Soliel said.

"City council and then maybe State Senator next?" Califia winked at Lia.

"Baby steps, Sis, baby steps," Lia said.

They heard the footsteps of Erik and Marisol running up the steep stairs, their laughter echoing as they ran.

"Shit, N'Jobu, you were supposed to let me know when they were on their way up!" Califia said stubbing out her joint in an ashtray and hiding it under the plastic table they would eat on.

"My bad," he said heading into the living room to greet the children.

"Uncle JoJo!" Marisol said reaching up to him. He picked her up and swung her as Erik grinned.

"What's that in your hand?" he asked his son.

Erik stuffed it in his mouth.

"Candy," Erik said chewing fast.

"Don't let your Mom see that," he said.

"One candy won't mess up his training Uncle JoJo," Marisol said. Her accent was so cute when she spoke English.

"Tell that to his mother," he said.

"Time to eat!" Lia called out.

Everyone piled outside to enjoy food and friends.

The crowded school auditorium broke into applause when Negra Li took to the podium to address her supporters. No one called her Lia, they loved saying Negra Li as if she were a Princess with a grand title.

N'Jobu's belly felt full and happy from her cooking, and he was impressed with the turn out so close to election time. Califia and Soliel sat next to him with the children. Aunjanue stood in the middle of the aisle running an LCD projector for Negra Li as she showed statistics to the audience on funding for public schools and public housing.

There was a Q & A afterward, and N'Jobu watched Erik quietly ask Califia questions. Negra Li was speaking Portuguese, and Erik caught most of her talk. He himself could not get but a few words and phrases. Califia did her best to translate for N'Jobu, but she soon got caught up in Negra Li's words and became quiet.

They were lucky that they didn't have to walk too far to get to the school because N'Jobu was tired. He wanted to curl up in bed with Califia and sleep for a long time.

Back at the apartment, Soliel played music and they sat around for a bit and talked until N'Jobu's eyes fell shut.

"Oh, he's out," Califia said. Although his eyes were closed, he could hear his son laughing at him.

"Okay you two, in bed, now!" Negra Li said.

He could hear Erik and Marisol complaining but he knew they would go into a side room where a blowup bed was set up to accommodate them. They would probably whisper together all night.

"C'mon, babe. Get up," Califia said grabbing his arm and pulling on him. He gathered himself up and said goodnight as Califia pushed him towards the back room they would share. Soliel and Aunjanue would join them in the morning for some sightseeing and visiting other families. They were grateful for a night together without Marisol.

He crawled under the covers of the bed and watched Califia strip down and put on sweats and a thicker t-shirt. He only took off his shirt and left his sweatpants and socks on. Once she slipped in next to him, he nuzzled his face into her breasts and held onto her tight.

"Exhausted?"

"Yes. My belly is comfortable, my body is warm, and we get to be alone for a moment," he whispered.

"The people here seem excited about Negra Li. She's predicted to be the winner by a landslide this time."

"She already has the poise of a polished leader."

"She is pretty badass."

"You really and truly admire her."

"She's my hero. You know that."

"You're my hero, girl."

He pushed up to get near her face and kissed her lips.

"Mom, Baba…"

N'Jobu turned to see Erik in the doorway. He thought he had closed the door all the way when they turned in.

"Hey, what's up," Califia said.

"Can I come in?" he asked watching N'Jobu release his hand from Califia's face.

Califia waved him over and he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Is it okay if I go see Besouro tomorrow instead of going sightseeing?"

"You don't want to be with Marisol when we go to the Bazaar?" Califia asked.

"Besouro is teaching a private class and I want to take it. Please?"

"You'll be able to take a session with him during the baptisado," N'Jobu said.

"But this one is different. I want extra practice before the baptisado."

"But Marisol will want you to be with her and you don't get to see her that often," Califia said.

"It's just one day, Mom. Please?"

N'Jobu felt his eyes growing heavy again. Califia looked at him and stroked his scalp.

"Let's see how things get organized in the morning. Your father is tired and you need sleep too."

Erik nodded and Califia leaned over and kissed his forehead.

"Night, JaJa."

"Night, Mom."

N'Jobu rubbed Erik's shoulder and watched him walk out of the room.

"Close the door," N'Jobu called out before resting his head back on Califia.

"Should we let him be with Besouro?"

"I don't see why not. We're here for some time. He wants to train with a master teacher. We should let him. Marisol will get over it," he said.

N'Jobu yawned. He felt weary but his body was fighting full sleep. The jet lag was screwing with him.

"How come you and Erik aren't tired like me?"

"We slept on the plane while you played that trivia game for hours."

"I want to sleep so bad, but nothing is winding down. Even when I close my eyes I'm still up."

"Smoke some weed."

"You know that doesn't agree with me."

"I don't know what to tell you."

N'Jobu rubbed his dick through his sweats.

"Why don't you suck my dick for me? I'm tense, I need help relaxing."

Califia gave him a smirk.

"Suck your dick? Just like that? No finessing or romantic overtures? Just 'suck my dick'?"

"Yes. Help your man get to sleep."

"How about you just lay there and eventually knock out?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled it down to his crotch.

"Help me out."

"These walls are too thin for that."

"I'll be quiet."

"No you won't."

"Just suck on the head for me then. Tongue my shit down, I won't even nut in your mouth."

"No."

"Come on, girl."

She pulled her hand back.

"Stop playing," she said.

"I'm not playing. I need you. Help me."

He rubbed himself and they both could see his dick plump up a bit in his sweats.

"…babe…"

"No…"

"Please…"

"No."

He curled up his lips and stopped rubbing himself.

"That's cold woman."

"Night."

She turned away from him and snuggled under the blankets.

"Wait until you want some. See what happens," he said spooning behind her and closing his eyes.

She only laughed at him.

Califia held Erik's hand as they walked into the large gymnasium. They both wore matching abadá pants and new form-fitting t-shirts. All white.

She felt Erik's hand tremble a bit. It was intimidating to step into a space that big. Especially with so many masters of the craft watching and judging. They had spent the earlier part of the day watching demonstrations and listening to older masters. The time had come to show what they could do.

"You'll be fine, JaJa," she said. He nodded. They both saw N'Jobu take a seat up in the bleachers with Negra Li, Soliel, and Marisol. N'Jobu waved at them.

"Come on, let's go to your section," she said.

Negra Li and Soleil's father Andres played the berimbau and he winked at Califia when he saw her. She waved to him and stood with Erik around the roda as people warmed up. The drumming and singing was boisterous. Erik began clapping and singing along visibly relaxing. She was worried he would pull out.

His private session with Besouro had him feeling confident before they came to the baptisado. Now she felt like Erik was struggling to find his bearings. His eyes lit up when he saw Besouro walk into the roda and start singing a call to come play. Califia started singing and clapping. Her eyes scanned the room and she felt a slight twinge of nervousness herself. So many masters in one place. Like Erik, she had ascended ranks pretty quickly, but to become a true mestre she needed confirmation from some people there who were not fond of her or her aggressive style of fighting. She would have to dig deep today and bring excellence. Oakland excellence.

Those under eighteen and up for new cords began to take to the floor and Califia stood back and continued clapping and singing, giving her son encouragement.

They watched several young girls and boys go into the circle and do their best. Many of them were not given their next cords. Califia was a bit surprised at the number of youngsters not allowed to move up and gain new ranks. Erik was aware of this too and she saw how tense his face was as he waited for his turn.

She glanced over into the stands and caught N'Jobu's eye. He had a solemn expression on his face.

Besouro knelt down on one knee in front of Erik. It was his time. Califia took in a deep breath. Erik went down on one knee and held out his fingers to touch Besouro's. At this moment Erik's beloved Uncle Axiel was no longer family or a friend. He was a mestre determining the level of skill a student had to move forward with a new cord. Axiel would not go easy on her son simply because he was part of an extended capoeira family that was tight over two continents. Axiel was simply The Beetle, Besouro. Erik had to show and prove.

Andres called out for Erik and Besouro to enter the circle. They both did the traditional small cartwheel and Besouro engaged Erik in basic moves that he should know to get to the next level. Erik did well and Besouro moved faster and upped the intensity of skill. He kicked Erik a few times to trip him up and to test his balance and recovery skills.

Califia felt her throat go dry. Besouro was really pushing her child. Andres kept the pace of the berimbau and drums even. Erik back flipped twice and came for Besouro's long legs with sliding moves she had practiced with him.

"There you go," she hissed under her breath as he clipped Besouro's foot causing the man to stumble. Andres snuck a glance her way and a big grin came over his face. Besouro came for Erik harder and the boy eased around him with such skill the crowd clapped for him. Erik rolled

into a handstand and spun on one hand before leaping with his hands aiming for Besouro's chest. The mestre deflected the assertive move and knocked Erik down. The boy jumped up but Besouro spun around him and struck Erik's calves knocking him down again. Califia felt her chest get hot. The move was too hard for a child—

Erik helicoptered his legs to spin and get back on his feet, where he swayed low and his hands went into an ulwa stance. His face had gone hard and serious. She saw his eyes had narrowed. He was angry. He looked just like N'Jobu.

"No," she gasped. He was going to switch up to ulwa and do something damaging that would disqualify him. He had the ulwa grappling stance, and she knew from experience fighting with N'Jobu that it hurt like hell when you didn't expect it. And Besouro wouldn't know what hit him.

"N'Jadaka!"

They both heard N'Jobu's voice booming over the drums.

Erik swiveled his neck. N'Jobu called out something in Wakandan and she saw Erik flinch and relax his hands.

"Channel that!" she called out to him and he began to jinga, his swaying smooth and calm and playful.

Besouro came for him again, but this time Erik was in the zone and matched his idol move for move. Califia saw a smile slip over Besouro's lips. Andres called for them to stop.

Besouro ran his hands over Erik's twists and hugged him. They bowed to one another and Besouro did the expected swipe of his legs that would knock Erik down to humble him. Erik took it well when he tumbled back on his butt. He laughed and then his eyes found hers. She placed a hand over her mouth and blew him a kiss. When she looked into Besouro's eyes, she knew her son had gained his new cord.

It shocked N'Jobu to see his son switch up his stance so fast.

It was one thing for Califia to describe it to him when his son did it at the corner market, but to see it first hand, and so swiftly, jolted him.

He called out to Erik and then told him in his language to "focus on the right way." He saw Califia call out something to him and then Erik went back into capoeira mode.

"What was he about to do? What was that?" Lia asked.

"He just lost focus. I had to remind him," he said.

When Andres presented Erik with his new cord, the boy turned to his mother and hugged her. He then faced the audience and held it up for N'Jobu to see before it was tied on him by Besouro.

There was a small break before the other initiates entered the circle, so N'Jobu was able to speak to Califia before she was up for her final cord. Erik sat next to Marisol bragging on his new level, and N'Jobu sat next to Califia.

"He almost lost it," Califia said peeking over at Erik.

"He just flowed into ulwa so naturally, it was like one art form."

"What did you yell to him?"

"I told him to focus."

"I told him to channel."

"He listened."

"Yeah, he did."

"He was very good."

"Besouro and Andres were impressed. Let's see if I get the same reaction."

"You got this."

"The way Besouro was fighting Erik, I may need to borrow some ulwa moves."

N'Jobu pulled her in toward him and kissed her.

"You have all the skills you need. I want to see you make him fall on his ass."

"Depends on if he goes in with me."

"He's going in. He can't wait. Look at him."

Besouro was speaking with Andres, his hands on his hips, and his legs wide apart. He saw Califia looking at him and he pointed at her and smiled. He gave a head nod to N'Jobu.

"He's still into you."

"That again?"

"Just an observation."

"He is into himself."

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I gotta go."

"Bring your cord back, Mom!" Erik said.

They fist bumped and Califia climbed down the bleachers.

The room seemed to get a little tenser once the older initiates gathered into the roda. There were many cell phones held up to record the event. A few masters that hadn't been out for years were present. Most of them men. There were very few women mestres. For Califia to come this far was an inspiration to many. N'Jobu glanced over at Marisol who had cotton candy in her hand and shared it with Erik. She was a beginner and had the opportunity to play with Califia at the earlier demonstrations. Soleil and Aunjanue wanted her to excel in the art. Watching Califia, they hoped Marisol would consider more training in the future.

N'Jobu and Erik watched Califia kneel down and clap her hands. She didn't sing or make eye contact with them. She appeared to go into a meditative state, preparing her mind and body. There were several mestres surrounding the circle this time.

They watched several people go into the circle. Some received cords, some did not.

"When will they let it be Mom's turn?" Erik whispered. He was pressed up against N'Jobu, probably feeling anxious for his mother to do well.

"Looks like they will make her go last," Lia said patting Erik's knee.

Califia stood up suddenly and stepped away from the circle shaking her hands above her head and pacing.

"She's nervous," Soliel said.

"Yes," Lia said putting her hands on her knees and shifting forward.

Erik stared at N'Jobu.

"Baba…"

"Don't worry. She has the jitters. See…she's calming herself down."

They watched Califia roll her neck and return to the circle. She knelt down and kept her eyes focused on the berimbau. Andres made a few hard taps on the berimbau to change the pace of the drums and an older bald mestre stepped forward and knelt before Califia. His dark nutmeg skin was moist from sweating and his eyes were focused on her hands. Califia raised her eyes up and did a slight nod to the man and then they touched fingers.

Cartwheeling in, Califia wasted no time outpacing the mestre. Her moves were fluid and her usual acrobatic style dominated the floor. She wasn't very aggressive, probably adjusting herself to not make the older master look bad. Another mestre with a head full of snow-colored locs slid in and replaced the bald mestre. The new mestre was fast and forced Calfia to use more hand techniques to keep up with him.

N'Jobu felt comfortable watching his woman do her thing well, but his eyes kept creeping over to Axiel who was hyper-focused on Califia. The Beetle clapped his hands and sang, but N'Jobu could tell he was itching to jump in.

Andres said something in Portuguese to an elder drummer who in turn called over a man to take over Andres' berimbau playing.

"Hey—" Soliel said.

Lia started laughing.

"You know he had to do this!" Lia cackled.

Andres spun into the circle and it was the first time since she entered the roda that N'Jobu saw Califia smile. Her own father had been too ill to fly over to Brazil with them, so Andres was stepping in to test his Goddaughter.

"Baba, Mom is doing so good!" Erik squealed standing up to clap and cheer his mother on.

At that moment, Besouro cartwheeled in and joined Andres for a bit of double teaming.

"Besouro!" Eric yelled.

Califia must've felt cornered because she immediately asserted her dominance. This wasn't her Godfather or a mentor/idol…this was war and she let them have every kick and hand jab she could muster. She slid onto her legs and did a Chinese split that pivoted into a handstand that had her legs twirling to smack Andres and Besouro. Andres tapped out to watch as another mestre took his place to push Califia to the edge. Besouro tried his best to tame her, but she had already forced the other mestre to leave the roda, and she was using her legs to tangle up The Beetle until he fell and she jumped on top of him winding her legs around his. His smile broke as he realized she had him pinned. Andres looked to the mestre with the white locs and the elder nodded.

"Aye!" Andres called and Califia unlocked her legs from Axiel's and jumped up screaming. N'Jobu and Erik jumped up and clapped for her. Axiel stuck out his foot and tripped Califia. She went down but flipped herself back up on her hands and spun around the circle letting her legs pose and twist. N'Jobu was amazed at her core strength as her arms supported her weight in the air. She did an excruciatingly slow front roll up and when she was back on her feet, her hands went to her face and she began to cry. The room applauded her and Andres hugged her tight. Besouro walked up to her and gave her a deep long hug that lifted her off of the ground. He waved over an official who had Califia's final belt. All of the mestre's present stood before her as Andres tied on her final belt. White for Grand Master.

Andres looked at the audience and yelled, "Mestre Martelo!"

N'Jobu looked at Erik.

"He called her Master Hammer."

"Hmmm. The Hammer. It fits her,' N'Jobu said. "Go congratulate her."

Erik beamed as he ran down the bleachers to be with his mother. N'Jobu watched Erik duck larger bodies as he made his way to Califia. Once her eyes saw Erik, she ran to him and picked him up. Her eyes fixed on N'Jobu's, and he blew her a kiss.

"Mestre!" he yelled to her and she placed her left hand over her heart as she held Erik and nodded her head to him. He felt tears sting his eyes as he watched his love get the accolades that she deserved in an art form she cherished. She had reached the zenith and the grand masters there acknowledged her ascension into their ranks.

N'Jobu walked down the bleacher steps and took his time getting to Califia. Soliel, Marisol, and Lia had already passed him up to hug and kiss Califia, but her eyes were on his as he approached her. She still held Erik, and when he stood in front of her, he cradled her head with his hands.

"You were magnificent," he said.

Her eyes were glistening and when she saw his wet eyes, she broke down and he threw his arms around her and Erik.

"Your father is so proud. I texted him. And I'm sure he's already looking at footage online,' he said. She nodded, her eyes red, and her lips curled up into a broad smile.

He bent down and whispered in her ear. "Mestre, I love you."

She wrapped her free arm around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. From the corner of his eye he saw Besouro watching them. N'Jobu made sure to slip Califia some slow tongue action, their lips lined up perfectly so he would see it.

"Ah, man, not this again!" Erik yelled.

N'Jobu didn't care. He had his woman and his child by his side and all was well.

What more could he wish for?

Easing away from his hold, Califia left their bed and pulled on her house robe. She went to Erik's room and found him quietly playing with his dolls on his bed. He seemed surprised to see her so soon. Their son was accustomed to hearing Mommy and Baba "play" together in the morning and Erik had learned to wait for one of them to get him when it was time to get up. He knew how to go to the restroom on his own if he needed it, and he also knew that when Mommy and Baba had the door closed, he was not to disturb them unless it was an emergency. Sometimes N'Jobu left the door slightly ajar and Califia would fuss with him about Erik hearing or seeing too much. Their son had walked in on them before while they were in missionary under the covers, and N'Jobu kept pumping in and out of her slowly as Erik crawled up on their bed to tell them he had a bad dream. Califia could remember how normal N'Jobu sounded as he soothed their son while still stretching her folds under the covers.

"Lie there quietly and go to sleep, JaJa, no monsters will get you," N'Jobu said.

Erik curled up on his side completely unfazed by what they were doing. Baba on top of Mommy just seemed natural. They were always kissing in front of him, so seeing N'Jobu kissing Mommy like this in bed was just a regular occurrence. He just needed the safe sound of his father's voice and his mother's eyes on him for a comforting moment before he was knocked out again. N'Jobu kept on giving her pleasure until he came inside of her grunting softly after she felt herself fall apart all over his dick. She didn't even lower her voice that much when her cries of pleasure escaped her lips and flew into N'Jobu's ears. They just let themselves be while Erik slumbered. When they were finished, N'Jobu tossed the top cover of their blanket over Erik and went to sleep himself. The next day after that they implemented the door rule with Erik.

"Morning, Mommy," Erik said.

"Morning, Baby. You want waffles or pancakes today?"

"Waffles."

"Me too, good choice."

"Is Baba asleep?"

"Yes."

Erik looked disappointed.

"You like your haircut?"

"Yes."

"I like mine too. Do you want to help make breakfast, or do you want to play until it's ready?"

"Help you!" he said jumping down from his bed forgetting his dolls.

She led him to the bathroom where they both washed their hands.

Once they were downstairs in the kitchen, she had good music playing for them as she helped Erik mix the batter in a big bowl and then pour the mixture onto their waffle-maker. She let bacon cook in the oven and coffee percolate in the machine as she enjoyed time with Erik.

Their first batch of waffles came out quite exceptional, and as she plated the fluffy goodness, N'Jobu made his grand appearance. Black sweatpants and a t-shirt, he sat down at their kitchen table and watched her and Erik fix breakfast.

"Baba!"

"Hey, I see you making good food."

N'Jobu helped Erik get into his chair as Califia pulled the bacon from the oven. She draped the crispy slices onto a plate of paper towels to drain the grease.

N'Jobu cut up Erik's waffle for him while Califia put out the butter and syrup.

"I thought you'd sleep until noon," she said putting several slices of bacon on N'Jobu's plate.

"Too many delicious aromas down here," he said.

She sat down across from him and they all began eating, Erik doing his best to pour syrup for himself.

"Not too much, JaJa," N'Jobu said.

Califia tightened the robe around her nightie. She caught N'Jobu staring at her chest as she pulled the top shut.

"Sorry I got in too late to enjoy that," he said.

"Another time," she said stuffing bacon into her mouth. They both watched Erik rocking in his seat as he chewed on a big piece of bacon. He was always moving or bouncing around to some internal rhythm. He liked to hum when he ate sometimes too when he nibbled on his favorite foods.

"The time got away from me—"

"Forget it," she said reaching for another waffle.

"Can I have more bacon?" Erik said pushing his plate towards Califia.

She put two more pieces on his plate and poured him more orange juice.

"What's our agenda for today?" N'Jobu said cutting into his second waffle.

"Erik and I are going into the studio. I'm going to cover a class. Intermediate West African dance."

N'Jobu looked disappointed. She wanted him to. Her petty way of passive-aggressively letting him know that her and Erik's time was precious. She would leave him stewing alone at home while they were gone for a few hours. Sunday was supposed to be their full family day. No if ands or buts.

"I'll go with you," he said.

She stared at him for a moment, but then finished eating her breakfast.

"You don't want me to come with you?"

"You can go with us," she said.

"I messed up by getting back late. I just want to make up for it by being together today like we normally are, okay?"

"Okay," she said.

Erik was staring at the two of him. It was eerie how he could sense any discord between the two of them. Califia decided to lighten the mood and not cause Erik anxiety because she was still annoyed with N'Jobu for not being with them the previous evening.

"Will you cook sweet and sour chicken nuggets for Erik tonight? I want him to have something special since it's his first day of pre-school tomorrow," she said pinching Erik's cheek. Erik smiled.

"I suppose he wants mashed sweet potatoes too?"

Erik nodded his head.

"And pudding," Erik said chewing on his last piece of waffle.

"Alright, deal."

N'Jobu cleared all their dishes and cleaned up for them as Califia went to get herself and Erik dressed.

She was actually glad N'Jobu wanted to go with them. She did want him to miss their presence, but thinking on it more, she really just wanted him to be with them. Her being upset wouldn't change that he had to work late sometimes even when he promised to be there for them. She knew he would rather be home, but she was tired of looking at Erik's face when she had to tell him Baba was too busy to come home to him.

"Amarillo o Azul mijo?" she asked Erik holding up two t-shirts.

"Azul," he said pulling on his socks by himself.

Once he was dressed, she oiled his scalp with a light almond oil and made sure his sneakers were tied tight.

Downstairs N'Jobu had pulled on a soft sweat jacket and his favorite Adidas kicks.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and walked Erik out to N'Jobu's car. The ride over was pleasant. She practiced a few Portuguese words with Erik, mainly colors, numbers, and phrases to greet people. He was a fast learner and his verbal skills were sharp. N'Jobu jumped in to have Erik say a few Wakandan words, and they both laughed when Erik did his best to match the clicks like his father.

The studio was crowded when they arrived. Califia changed into a black leotard and tied a thin purple and pink African print wrap skirt around her waist. She saw the studio manager stroll from the back office.

"Amanisha, is this class always this huge?" Califia asked. Usually, the beginner class was packed while the intermediate and advanced classes were smaller, less than thirty people on average. Scanning the space, there had to be over sixty people spread out which was unheard of for them on a Sunday. Women of various ages stretched and kept their eye on Califia.

"Two things. Word got out that you're teaching today, and Tico is joining the drumming for your session."

Tico.

The new young drummer everyone at the studio was thirsting over. Califia could see the regular drum troupe warming up in the corner, three exceptional talents that had been down with Califia since she created the Alpha House facility with Soliel. Glancing over in the back of the studio she could see N'Jobu standing in a corner watching Erik who was sitting on the dance floor waiting for Califia to begin. Her son already had his shoes and socks off.

Placing a water bottle on a stool in front of the long wall mirror, Califia nodded for the drummers to start the warm-up beats.

"I'm here, I'm here!"

Tico swept in with his djembe and set himself up quickly as the lead drummer. Califia could feel eyes from various women going all dreamy already. Maybe it was all the tats on his arms, or the cute style of his thick wavy hair, or the amazing physique he displayed in his tight T-shirt and linen drummer pants, but Califia found herself actually feeling the palpable surge of lust directed towards Tico from the room. He was a flirty dude, and Califia did find him cute, but he was cute in that superficial way that Califia remembered finding guys like him when she was still in college. Tico was a nice guy, but he was a player and a bit dishonest with women from what she gathered from the whisper network around the studio. He was also arrogant in a mean-spirited way when he was around other men.

"Let's start," Califia said ready to get down to business. The class spread out as much as they could and Califia started them off with basic warm-up moves with arms and legs moving simultaneously. Once she felt there was sufficient loosening of limbs, she began pelvic thrusts and mini leg kicks. The class was keeping up pretty well and she nodded toward Tico to turn it up a notch with the drums and he did, leading the ensemble in faster beats. Califia started harder combinations of moves and began the real teaching aspect where she had to keep repeating the steps. Erik jumped up by then and was doing his best to keep up, often jumping up and down right next to her. He turned around often to stop and watch the class while bouncing his knees. He liked doing the hand movements the most.

Halfway through, Califia divided the class into three groups and had each group start on one side of the room and dance their way to the other practicing the new combinations she taught them. She danced down the room with each section, encouraging, demonstrating, and cheering on the folks who finally figured out how to do the moves. She was having a lot of fun, and she thoroughly enjoyed watching Erik dancing down the room himself getting about half of the steps. N'Jobu stood in the back of the studio grinning and watching Erik follow her around. She found her heart melting with N'Jobu being there, and any irritation she had that morning was gone.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall by the door, she saw that time had gone by fast and they had reached the end of the class time.

"Okay, show and prove time!" Califia yelled.

Everyone made a huge semi-circle around the drummers. Califia loved this part of the class, a freestyle segment where anyone bold enough could jump into the middle of the circle and follow the drummers. Of course, with Tico leading the crew, she wasn't sure how many would be willing to put themselves out there—

A young woman of about nineteen jumped out and began demonstrating her moves. Tico went in and really began showing off for the class, making his drum talk, causing dancers to risk it all in the middle of the circle. Califia stood near the side of the drummers so she could encourage students and cheer on the people who were a bit shy about putting themselves out there. Erik stood next to her, one hand holding onto her left leg as he watched women take turns jumping in and out of the circle, some women facing off with one another. Califia nudged Erik into the middle and he stood there shyly for a moment, one hand going to his mouth as he looked up at her.

"Get it, JaJa!" she called out beginning to move inside the circle. He followed her and the class clapped for him. Soon, he had relaxed enough so that he began moving on his own. She took a step back and they all watched Erik get into his dance, adding steps she hadn't taught that day. Tico caught onto the child's rhythm and aimed his hand movements towards Erik as he worked his drum. Her son's eyes caught Tico's and he started to really show out.

"Look at him!" she called out to N'Jobu who sauntered over for a closer look at the circle his son now commanded. Califia jumped back into the circle with him and showed him basic moves he could follow and they danced together in sync, following the drum lead from Tico. Erik stopped and looked up at her and said, "Go, Mommy!"

She turned toward Tico and gave him a run for his money, easing in closer to the drummer as she kicked her legs and let her arms fly faster and faster. Tico tried controlling her movements by switching up the drum cadence with the other drummers, but Califia stuck with them eventually ending her solo by thrusting her hips towards the drummers letting them know she was through. The class clapped and Tico started the cooldown drumming and the class spread out once more as Califia led them through slower moves to bring down their heart rates. Erik moved next to her and Califia gave N'Jobu a look as if to say, "Look at this son of yours keeping up."

When the class ended, students applauded Califia and the drummers. She gave a humble bowing of her head and applauded the drummers herself too.

She drank heavily from her water bottle and Tico sauntered over to her with his drum. His swagger was heavily pronounced and Califia fought to not roll her eyes at him.

"Great class," he said moving in a little too close for her comfort. His drum was almost touching her belly.

"The drumming was on fire today," she said wiping sweat from her neck with a small hand towel that sat under her water bottle.

"It helps to have you teaching the class," he said giving her the once over with his eyes, "How about you and I going out for some coffee later? Erik can get chocolate milk if you want."

She stepped back from him and N'Jobu was already there by her side holding Erik's hand.

"Nice drumming," N'Jobu said positioning himself almost in front of Califia. His voice was firm and she saw a look pass over Tico's face. He had no idea who N'Jobu was.

"This is my son's father, N'Jobu. Babe, this is Tico."

"Nice to meet you," Tico said holding out his hand. N'Jobu shook it, his grasp strong and very telling in that moment. Tico backed away a bit giving Califia more space.

"I hear you are a popular fellow around here," N'Jobu said.

"I don't know about that."

"He is," Califia said, "in fact, this class is full because of him."

Tico shook his head.

"That's all you, Califia," Tico said.

"You should tend to your fans," N'Jobu said clasping Califia's fingers in his.

"Bye, Tico, and thanks for your hard work today," Califia said walking away with N'Jobu.

When they were a few feet away from Tico, N'Jobu picked up Erik and Califia whispered in N'Jobu's ear.

"So you must've caught that."

"He came at you pretty strong. His body language was so obvious. Is he always like that with you?"

"Not always, but he does take up space when he talks to women in here."

"Has anyone spoken to him about it?"

"No one has complained, but I think it's because they like him. I've mentioned to him that I don't like to be crowded and he minds that. I guess today he forgot."

"Today he was trying to mack. He didn't know you had a man?"

"I'm never really on the same class track as him."

"You want me to talk to him about personal space?"

"I think he got the big hint today."

"Where to now?"

"Ice cream," Erik said.

"You sure?" N'Jobu said looking at Erik.

"Yes."

"What kind?"

"Chocolate chip and raspberry."

"Blueberry?" N'Jobu teased.

"No! Raspberry!"

"A raspberry like this?" N'Jobu said putting his lips against Erik's cheeks and giving him a wet raspberry for fun.

"No Baba!" Erik laughed rubbing his cheek.

Califia watched them and she felt happy. She was excited for Erik to start school, and she was excited about going back to work in a week. She was happy that she would be able to go with N'Jobu to see Erik off on his first day of pre-school. They already had his school clothes laid out for him and she just hoped that he had fun on his first day being away from her like that. Would he adjust quickly? Would he miss her? Could she bear being away from him?

Swinging her hand in N'Jobu's, Califia didn't want the day to end.

"I'll change real quick and we can go," she said.

Tico's drumming was flirty. That was the first clue N'Jobu picked up on when he watched the young man's hands strike his drum. He was also a show off with a false sense of confidence. N'Jobu saw how Tico tried to impress Califia with his skills, but she was so far above his level that he couldn't even see his inability to make an impression on her.

There was something else in his drumming too. Aggression. The machismo dripped from his fingers as it struck the drum skin during class.

N'Jobu enjoyed watching Erik dance with his mother and also participating in the circle, but when Tico approached Califia after the class, N'Jobu read her body language and he moved to be by her side at once.

As Califia changed clothes, N'Jobu walked back over to Tico who was talking to the other drummers. N'Jobu recognized the other men and nodded kindly towards them, but his eyes fixed back on Tico with a quickness.

"Watch yourself around my woman. Understand?" N'Jobu said.

The other drummers cut their eyes away from Tico.

"Yo man, I didn't know—"

"I don't care what you did or did not know. I'm telling you to watch yourself. If she ever tells me you have been inappropriate with her, you and I will have a talk. Won't be no words though."

Erik was staring at Tico and then he was leaning his head against N'Jobu's neck.

"Baba. Let's go get ice cream."

"As soon as Mommy comes out, we're leaving," N'Jobu said, his eyes still boring holes into Tico's face.

"Babe."

Califia was at the door waiting for them.

"What did you say to him?" Califia asked when they left.

"What he needed to hear, that's all."

N'Jobu caught Califia watching Erik as he slept in his bed. She had gone upstairs to check on him, and when she didn't return, N'Jobu made his way up to her and found her leaning her head against the door of Erik's room. Their son was fast asleep, his starfish nightlight glowing in the light socket near his bed. His school clothes were hanging on the back of his closet door: a small green striped polo shirt and new jeans. Casual but classy.

"Everything, okay?" he whispered touching Califia's shoulder.

She turned to look at him and her eyes were shiny as if she were about to cry. Her right hand touched his hand on her shoulder.

"I didn't think I would get this emotional about him starting school. Seems so silly. I remember when my mom got like this when my brothers started school and I thought she was so corny. But look at me. Staring at him and his first school clothes."

N'Jobu swept his arms around her waist and allowed her to lean back into him.

"It is a big deal. He is separating from us and going into the world on his own for the first time. Meeting new people. Learning new rules of conduct that may be different from what he's used to. We can't keep him with us forever. He's growing up."

"He is. It still feels like yesterday when he was inside of me. He's not going to be my baby for much longer."

"Nope. I'm excited for him."

"Me too. I just wish I could have him stay little for a few more years. My baby…"

She let out a heavy sigh and continued watching Erik sleep.

"He's the best part of you and me," she said.

"He is."

"I wish your family could see him."

"I wish they could too."

She turned to him, eyes still shiny, her lips pouty.

"It's been three years, almost four. Hasn't enough time passed? Are we not worthy to go to your homeland yet?"

He held onto her shoulders then let his fingers drop to stroke her elbows.

"You are both invaluable. But the time is still not right—"

She turned away from him and watched Erik once more.

"You say that every year that goes past. Erik is a Prince. Shouldn't he know his kingdom?"

"He will. One day. You know this—"

"Do I?"

Erik stirred in his sleep.

N'Jobu wrapped his arms around Califia's arms again and held her closer to his chest. They kept quiet and waited for their son to ease back into restful sleep again.

"You tell him stories about Wakanda. You talk about his grandmother the Queen Mother. His grandfather a great King. His cousin T'Challa being this smart and funny little person. You tell him all these wonderful things about your home and you don't take him there. How do think this will make him feel as he gets older? What will he think about his place in your world?"

Her words cut him. But the time wasn't right. Wakanda was experiencing social upheavals and T'Chaka was in the midst of squashing the unrest bubbling in certain political groups that still challenged his rule. Bringing his son and woman into that milieu at this time would be wrong. Stressful to them. Possibly dangerous when the Udaku family was under a political microscope and being watched by their enemies at home and abroad. He didn't want to chance that blowback coming into contact with Califia and Erik. She rightfully believed that Wakanda was just a regular country. If she knew the full truth—

She detached herself from his arms and moved into their bedroom. He followed and watched her strip out of her clothes. She sat on the edge of their bed and stared at him, butt-naked, the light from their bedside lamp making her skin look dewy and warm.

"Tell me the truth, N'Jobu. You won't take us to Wakanda because I'm not good enough for your family. You're slumming with me. I'm good enough to fuck and have secret babies, but I can't sit at the royal table. I'm no Zinzi or whatever Wakandan bitch is acceptable. Right?"

He sat next to her and touched her hand.

"Don't think that—"

She crawled onto his lap facing away from him, gyrating her hips and looking back at him. Her fingers touched her nipples hardening them. He felt his left leg shake.

"I'm only good for this, right?" she said, slowly bouncing on his sweatpants, causing the material to curve around the shape of his thickening cock. His erection sprung on him fast. He grabbed for her arms and held them.

"Girl…shit," he gasped.

He tried pulling his sweats down, but she swatted his hand and ground down on him harder.

"I'm worthy of this. Just this,…your faithful concubine," she whispered, her eyes closing, her thighs pressing down onto his. Her hands slid up to his knees and she widened her thighs and leaned forward isolating the movements of her ass cheeks one at a time and so very…slow. Her hips were winding and he felt like his lower half was dangerously close to evaporating into the ether.

"Can't take this home with you?" she said looking back at him again.

He felt his face get tight, his lips were already parted and releasing humble moans. He reached up and cupped her breasts almost holding his breath as she lifted and dropped herself on his dick.

He was powerless against her.

"…just that slut that you can play with when you want to…"

He could see the sticky wet pre-cum stain from his sweatpants glossing her ass.

"Califia, wait, lemme take my dick—"

She circled her grind on his lap and he felt the first spurts of cum soak the inside of his sweats.

"Shit…ohhhhh shit."

She slowed her motion and watched him look down at his crotch. It was soaked through.

She dropped to her knees and pulled his sweats down. Gripping his sensitive dick in her hand she licked it, up and down, slurping up all traces of semen. He cradled her face and kissed her, his tongue probing the hollows of her cheeks, the slickness of her gums, and the tang of his own essence in her mouth. He lifted her back onto his lap.

"You're worthy of the world, girl. Don't you know that?" he breathed into her ears as he snagged her lips again between his. Necks arching from left to right, lips smacking, bodies sweating, N'Jobu held her like a life preserver. When she lifted up and sat back down on his fresh erection, he was the one who felt unworthy.

Califia had sprinkled Nana's Florida water on Erik's head and neck before they left home. A measure of homespun protection for her little boy's first day of school.

She and N'Jobu held Erik's hands as they walked him into his new classroom. His teacher was a Black woman with thick twists and bright red lipstick and she had her room decorated in a colorful burst of numbers, letters, playful animals, and greetings from around the world in big bright bubble lettering. Each child had their own personal cubby hole to store personal belongings, and Califia showed Erik where he could put his new jean jacket. He had been a chatterbox on the way to the pre-school, but once they stepped into the classroom as a family, he had become quiet, as if he sensed that he was about to be left behind.

He was shy when his teacher greeted him, and he began to cry when they were trying to leave him. He grabbed Califia's leg and wouldn't let go.

"JaJa," N'Jobu said trying to pry him loose.

"I want to go home," Erik gasped, his wet eyes staring up at Califia.

"But school is going to be fun. Don't you want to have fun?" she asked. "Nooo!"

She didn't want to laugh at her baby, but his face looked like he was being tortured by the most horrific thing imaginable instead of being in a room full of fifteen 3-year-olds. Mrs. Graham the teacher knew the drill and began playing a happy sounding children's song that Erik knew by heart because Nana played it for him all the time at her house. His head turned in the direction of the music and like magic, his tears stopped and he was releasing his hold on her thigh.

"Who knows this song?" Mrs. Graham asked and Erik's arm shot up.

"Who can sing it with me?"

Children shyly gathered near her and in an instant, they heard their son singing his heart out. Mrs. Graham played another song that involved hand and body movement, and as much as they wanted to stay all day and watch Erik in school, N'Jobu and Califia took the opportunity to slip out of the classroom without Erik noticing.

For the rest of the school day, Califia kept bugging N'Jobu at home about how Erik could be doing. Was he crying over them? Was he getting along with his classmates? Was he being a good boy?

She was annoying N'Jobu who wanted to have Erik-out-of-the-house sex before school ended, but Califia was too fixated on their son. N'Jobu had to push her back on the couch and yank off her pants so he could stick his face between her legs.

When they returned to the school to pick Erik up, they were happy to see he had adjusted to being left behind. They found him talking to an adorable Korean boy who was holding a toy airplane. Erik was trying to explain to the boy how to make the propellers work.

"There's a button under here…lemme show you…no, not there, there…"

The two boys worked over the toy until the tiny propellers were working.

"See, I told you!" Erik shouted. The two boys ran around the room and when Erik saw them standing near the door he waved at them and kept playing with his new friend.

"Erik, your parents are waiting," Mrs. Graham coaxed gently.

Erik grabbed his friend's hand and dragged him over to them.

"Mommy, Baba, this is Water. We have the same birthday and he likes dinosaurs too. He has a T-Rex at home that is this big…"

Califia and N'Jobu listened to Erik prattle on. But Califia had to make sure she heard the Korean boy's name right.

"Your name is Water?" Califia asked.

The little boy looked confused by the question.

"Walter, his name is Walter," Mrs. Graham said smiling.

"Oh," Califia said realizing Erik had mispronounced his friend's name.

"Haggyo joh-ahani?" N'Jobu asked Walter.

Walter nodded surprised that N'Jobu was speaking Korean.

"Erik, your friend's name is Walter, not Water," Califia said.

"I like Water," Erik said dancing around N'Jobu.

"Say his name right," Califia said.

"Walter," Erik said.

"I like Water," Walter said smiling at Califia with a snaggle tooth grin.

"Erik, would you like to go get your jacket now?" Mrs. Graham said.

Erik nodded and ran over to his cubby hole and grabbed his jacket.

"Bye-bye, Water!" Erik said hugging Walter and then grabbing Califia's hand.

"See you tomorrow, Erik!" Walter said waving the toy airplane at Erik.

Califia and N'Jobu held Erik's hands and lifted him up together so his feet were lifted from the ground. He laughed heartily.

"I'm flying!" he yelled.

"You like your first day?" N'Jobu asked.

"Yes! I want to wear my Spiderman shirt tomorrow and my red sneakers. Walter is going to wear his and we are going to be twins, Mommy!"

Success.

Califia started her new teaching job and their home adjusted once more to the changes in schedules. Dante did a great job picking up Erik when his school day was over Monday through Wednesday, and Rolita watched him on Thursdays and Fridays now that she was staying home with her little one for a year. Her daughter Nevaeh had just turned two so Erik was comfortable being in their home two times a week. On those days N'Jobu picked him up after work and brought him home.

Things were going well for about a month until Mrs. Graham left Califia a message about needing to have a parent-teacher conference concerning Erik.

"What do you think it could be about?" Califia asked N'Jobu over dinner as she replayed the message for him on her cell.

"Erik seems to be in good spirits when he comes home," N'Jobu said.

"It's got to be the capoeira. I bet he's being too rough with the other children, probably showing off and going too hard. I told him he shouldn't do it at school. Maybe he hurt someone. You don't think they'd kick him out of school for it? He's only three."

"We'll find out tomorrow so relax. No sense stressing over the unknown," N'Jobu said.

"JaJa, did anything happen at school?" she asked.

Erik ate his peas and glazed carrots with a satisfied look on his face.

"I played with Water and Jeannie, but Jeannie is too mean, so we don't like her. She hits Water sometimes."

"Did you hit Jeannie or anything?"

"No."

"Let him eat," N'Jobu said finishing up his plate.

"He's eating, I'm just trying to figure this out in case it's bad."

"He's three, Califia."

"Parents are litigious over the simplest things nowadays."

N'Jobu shook his head.

"Well, if he did put hands on anyone, he was probably using ulwa—" Califia said.

"What?"

"Yeah, I said it. If he went buck wild in class, I betcha it was your shit that got him in trouble—"

"Ooh, Mommy used a bad word, Baba."

N'Jobu gave Califia a look.

"He may have cursed in class, but that comes from you," N'Jobu said sipping on his glass of water.

"I watch what I say around him."

"Just like now?" N'Jobu joked.

"Mommy should get a time out for using a bad word," Erik said.

"Mommy is sorry for using a bad word, Erik. Daddy will give me time out later," she said winking at N'Jobu.

N'Jobu watched Erik play quietly in the designated play area in his classroom. He shifted his weight in the adult sized chairs that Mrs. Graham had in the back of the room near her classroom desk. He could see Califia's leg nervously shaking, her left toe-tapping unconsciously as she waited for Mrs. Graham to inform them of the concern that brought them there after Erik's regular school time. N'Jobu and Califia had to take time off from their jobs to be there.

"Thank you for making time from your busy schedules. I asked for you to come in because I would like to talk to about Erik. I don't think he should be in my classroom anymore."

N'Jobu could hear a soft gasp escape Califia's lips and her eyes sought out his. There was so much worry in her face.

"What exactly is the problem, Mrs. Graham?" N'Jobu asked while reaching over to hold Califia's hand to calm her. They all could hear Erik playing with the toys on the other side of the room completely oblivious to the adults.

"Oh, wait, Mrs. Stevens, I didn't mean to cause you any alarm. The reason why I'm saying this is because the curriculum I teach is not what Erik needs—"

"Are you saying he has trouble learning? Like maybe he needs a special day class—"

"Not exactly what you may be thinking. He does have special needs and that's why he can't thrive in my class at this pace. You see, Erik's intellectual abilities are above the pre-school level. He outpaces his classmates and is often bored during the lessons. I would like to have him tested because I believe he needs to be at a different grade level. I'm thinking maybe first or second grade."

Califia's face broke into a relieved grin.

"Oh, Mrs. Graham. I was so worried. I thought Erik had done something and you were calling us in to suspend him."

Califia squeezed N'Jobu's hand.

"May I ask why you would jump to that conclusion?" Mrs. Graham said folding her hands on her lap.

"My experience as a teacher has me on edge sometimes when it comes to Black children in the classroom. I'm just being blunt here. I know my son has a lot of energy, and you see…he knows some martial arts and I thought he may have injured another child or something. These things can get blown out of proportion so easily."

"I see. I do understand why you may have gone there in that thinking. Whatever it is that you two are doing at home with him has him at an advanced level, and I can't afford to stifle his young mind when I see the brilliance in him so early. There are some drawbacks though."

"What are they?" N'Jobu finally interjected. He wasn't surprised that Erik was far above his peers, he just didn't think it would manifest so early.

"Skipping ahead can sound impressive, but sometimes students don't adjust because they are not with their same age peer group. They can feel out of place being often the youngest person in the class. They also encounter more emotionally and socially mature classmates that can make it difficult to fit in. Being book smart doesn't always translate into successful interactions on the playground or outside of school. Erik is only three and he may find it hard to blend in with six and seven-year-olds. I need you to be aware of that."

"Could he stay in your class and just do advanced work? He could stay with his age group and friends, but do upper-level lessons?" N'Jobu asked.

"In all honesty Mr. Stevens, I would find it difficult to give Erik the special attention he needs one on one and then also teaching my other pre-schoolers. I have an aide that helps me, but I'm afraid Erik might feel stifled or singled out."

"I see," N'Jobu said.

"How soon would you want him to get tested?" Califia asked.

Mrs. Graham pulled out a folder.

"Once I get your permission, I can have a specialist in next week to test him. If he's at the level that I suspect, it would be best to move him as soon as possible so he can adjust quickly while the school term is still early."

"What if we decide we want him to stay in your class? He has made so many friends. He and Walter are so tight," Califia said.

"If that was your choice, then I would do my best to accommodate Erik. But that child is gifted. He needs the space to shine."

"Set up the tests. As soon as you know what level he should be placed in we'll do it—"

"I think we should talk about this more," Califia said releasing her hand from his.

"Mrs. Graham said he needs to be in another class—"

"Let's see where the tests place him, and then you can re-visit moving him or not. I will be creating some supplemental teaching materials for him and there's a section on our school website you can check out that details the process on skipping grades."

"Thank you, Mrs. Graham," N'Jobu said standing up and holding out his hand for her to shake.

Califia was slow to stand up, and the expression on her face was one of annoyance. When she did shake Mrs. Graham's hand, N'Jobu already had Erik with him.

He drove them to McDonald's an ordered Erik a happy meal while he and Califia ate fries sitting inside a wide booth.

"Do you think he can hang with second graders?" she asked.

"He's already reading words and writing things. He likes pulling things apart and putting them back together on his own. He hangs with his older cousins just fine. He'll be alright."

"Ugh, he likes Walter so much."

"Walter is my best friend," Erik said chewing on his cheeseburger.

"He can still have play dates with Walter. Their friendship can continue if he wants it."

Erik's eyes watched them.

"Erik, your teacher thinks you are a very good student. She wants to put you in another class," N'Jobu said. "N'Jobu, c'mon, don't tell him like this."

"What do you think about that, JaJa? You are very smart and your teacher wants to put you in a bigger kids class."

Erik stopped fiddling his fingers inside his small bag of French fries.

"Can Water come with me?"

"No, Baby. Water will have to stay with Mrs. Graham."

A worried look came over his face.

"Can I still play with him?"

"On the weekends and maybe after school sometimes," N'Jobu said.

"I don't have to see Jeannie anymore?"

"No, she won't be in the same class as you," Califia said.

"Good. She's a pain."

N'Jobu and Califia laughed.

"Will you be sad about leaving your class? It's okay to be sad," Califia said.

N'Jobu found her eggshells approach to telling their son he was changing classes ridiculous.

"No. I won't be sad. You promise Water can still be my friend?"

"Yeah," Califia said, her lips curling into a smile.

"Okay. I'll go with the bigger kids. I'm not scared."

"Wait, do you feel scared?" Califia asked.

"No, but you look scared, Mommy."

N'Jobu tilted his head at Califia.

"And there you have it. You are projecting onto him and he's cool with leaving."

"I wasn't projecting."

"Yes, you were."

"What's projecting?" Erik asked.

"When you assume someone feels the same way you do—"

"Baba says you should never assume," Erik said.

"And he is right," Califia said squeezing N'Jobu's hand.

She stared at him.

"You were right. I was worried for nothing."

"He'll be fine. He's an Udaku."

"And a Stevens," she said.

N'Jobu leaned over and kissed her lips.

"Why are you always kissing?!" Erik said with an exasperated sigh.

"Eat your burger and mind your business, boy," N'Jobu said kissing Califia again.

"So we'll let him do this?" Califia asked.

"I can do anything, Mommy," Erik said waving a French fry at her like it was a wand.

Chapter 14 HERE.

Spending the day with Califia and her friends caused N'Jobu to disobey the edict when he decided to move around with them without the use of his car. Hidden away in his bomber jacket was a light-weight vibranium body shield that he could activate if necessary. Not one time during his first year in California did he ever have to use any weapons to keep himself safe. He kept a low profile, often using fake names in different places to keep off anyone's radar.

It was so refreshing for him to ride the BART system with the group and mingle around regular citizens outside of school. It also meant he could drink a little more and not worry about driving while intoxicated. The sizeable group from the museum voted to go hang out at a popular microbrewery on Haight Street. They arrived in time for Happy Hour and were able to secure several tables that they pushed together near the street-facing window.

N'Jobu sat across from Califia and Soliel who were busy drinking bitter red ales while he took his time savoring a cider Califia had picked out for him to try. It was a ginger-grass cider brew that packed quite a punch. She made sure to have a small carafe of wine available in case the cider wasn't to his liking. His skin felt tingly from the cider, and his brain was buzzing with the conversation and company surrounding him.

He glanced around the table to take in their party: Bakari and Shavonne cozied up next to each other sharing a plate of bacon-wrapped dates with goat cheese. Langston and Rolita tucking into French-fried asparagus and cauliflower. A young man named Reynaldo who appeared to be the youngest of their group and who was carded by the waiter much to the delight of his friends who teased him about his baby face.

Soliel's girlfriend Aunjanue was arguing with Califia and Soliel over a new rap album that dropped online. The three of them shared a meat plate of andouille sausage and currywurst sausage with a side of russet potatoes. N'Jobu picked at his own meal of grilled romaine salad with a heavy dose of bacon vinaigrette. Aunjanue was adamant that her assessment of the album was correct and she was holding court at the table to prove her point.

"The problem is, all of you expect rhyme styles to stay the same. What you all call mumble rap is just a new evolution of the culture," Aunjanue said. She wore a thick topknot of black braids, her dark brown skin having the same reddish tint as Califia. Soliel had her arm around the back of Aunjanue's chair.

"Part of the culture is knowing what a muthafucker is saying," Califia blurted out, causing the entire table to laugh.

"James Brown often sang words that we had no idea what he was saying, but we don't dog him out," Aunjanue leveled at Califia.

"Slow your roll, Aunjanue, James Brown was often doing that Gullah talk, so just because the masses didn't understand it, don't mean people like him didn't. Get on that, Cali," Bakari said pointing at her.

"Gullah?" N'Jobu asked Califia. She took a quick swig of her ale and looked at him.

"My great-grandparents are from Georgia, Geechie country. Um, we're known as Gullah people. They were descended from enslaved Ibo who lived on some of the small islands off the Georgia coast. Their language is a mixture of Ibo, Creole English and a little bit of Muskogee Creek. Native American. They say a lot of James Brown's grunts and groans was Geechie talk."

"Do you know any of it?"

"Me? Nah, that's old-timey talk."

"You should look into learning it, Califia," Rolita said, "my tribe is teaching our young people, but too many of our elders are passing on, so we're losing some things."

"Rolita's people are Yurok. California indigenous." Califia said.

"Ah, yes, Yurok," N'jobu said, pouring himself a glass of cabernet from the carafe.

He was familiar with the more well-known Native American groups. But he had never heard of the Gullah before. Creoles and New Orleans history were more familiar to him. He knew very little about Georgia or Califia's people. But he found it interesting that the Ibo were part of her roots.

"Speaking of my people, please tell me you all are coming out to Alcatraz on Thanksgiving," Rolita said tugging on her two short braids and snacking down on an asparagus stalk.

"I'm going," Soliel said.

"Me too," said Califia reaching for the carafe and pouring herself a half glass of wine.

"You know I'm down," said Bakari scooting back his chair to give Shavonne room to get up. She headed back towards the restrooms in the pub.

"What's happening in Alcatraz? Isn't that an old prison?" N'Jobu asked pouring the rest of the wine into his own glass. He glanced over at Rolita.

"Several different Native American groups get together to do a sunrise celebration instead of recognizing Thanksgiving," Rolita said. "we've been doing this for over forty years now. I would love for you to come with us," Rolita said.

"I will do that," N'Jobu said, pulling out his cell and updating his personal calendar.

"You have to get up early man, the crack of dawn's ass," Bakari said.

Rolita went into a little more detail about the gathering, and as he listened, N'Jobu began to get a clearer picture of Califia's world. Most of her friends were activists of some sort. She also had a very diverse group of friends from all walks of life who were committed to various social justice causes. Everyone seated at the table was a person of color, and N'Jobu wondered if she had any white friends or peers that she associated with. N'Jobu didn't get a sense of animosity towards whiteness or white people from the group, but he was eager to know if their activism precluded having to engage with other white students. The mere thought of that didn't sit with him very well.

His own very selective peer group was just as diverse, but he did have quite a few white schoolmates he engaged within his department at school and in his social life. Also, his major tended to be filled with more white students. He began to think that Califia and her friends self-segregated much to their detriment. An open hand could do more in the world than a closed fist.

Their waiter came by the table again and N'Jobu requested another glass of cider from the jovial brunette who kept filling his side glass of water every chance she got. The conversation moved onto reality TV shows they were keeping up with, and then the movies they wanted to see. He kept his eye on Califia, enjoying her laughter and the soft chiding she gave her friends when they disagreed about things. When she became passionate about a topic, her voice would raise an octave and her eyes would squint as if she were going to use the force of her will to bend them to her side. A couple of times she jabbed her finger into his shoulder to make her point and he savored her touch. He was finishing his second glass of cider when she reached for it and drank the last cool dregs.

"That's not bad," she said, a smear of her lip gloss staining the small glass she still held in her hand.

"Would you like to share another?" he asked. Before she answered, two men outside knocked on the thick glass of the pub staring at them. She placed his glass back near his hand and he watched her gaze at the men entering the pub. Bakari stood up slapping hands and bumping shoulders with both men. One was a tall slender Latino with tats on his arms and wearing an Angels baseball cap. The other was a medium-build black guy with twists in his hair and TV star looks. The black guy and the Latino made their way to the empty seat between N'Jobu and Califia.

"Babe," the black man said kissing Califia's cheek.

"Hey, Xavier," Califia said, looking nowhere in N'Jobu's direction. Greetings went around, and Xavier's friend Julian grabbed another chair from an empty table and further added distance between N'Jobu and Califia.

Xavier was affable, everyone else at the table except for Shavonne knew him, and N'Jobu sensed from Califia's terse expression that something was off in their relationship. Xavier was leaning into her, but her shoulders leaned more towards Soliel.

The pub grew louder as more customers filled the brewery, and there was music playing above the din that made it harder for N'Jobu to keep up with all the conversations that were going on. The only person he wanted to focus on was Califia, but Xavier was making N'Jobu vacillate between staying and leaving the group. He didn't like sitting near her with some other dude hanging off her. His jaw kept getting tight every time Xavier dipped near her face and whispered in her ear.

At one point he caught Soliel's eye, and he thought for a moment that she could see right through his discomfort. N'Jobu checked his cell for the time and was astonished at how late it had gotten. They had been in the pub for over two hours. The sun was setting in a fiery crimson splash outside when the check finally arrived at their table. The group left behind a healthy tip for their server, and once they were all outside, N'Jobu had to stomach Xavier throwing his arm around Califia's shoulder.

"There's a bar down the street that has reggae music tonight. Julian's homie plays the drums. Y'all up for that? Free cover charge," Xavier told everyone.

"Free is enticing," Rolita said throwing a light jacket on.

N'Jobu pulled on his bomber jacket and checked his cell again. Andrea was blowing up his phone.

"Are you interested in checking it out, N'Jobu?" Califia asked. Xavier was looking at N'Jobu, his left arm draped over Califia, his hand dangling near her left breast. N'Jobu wanted to reach over and pull the man's hand and arm away from her. His whole day today had been special because he had time to be around her, share parts of himself with her, got to know how her mind worked when she was excited about something, and now he felt restricted because her man was with them. Her man.

N'Jobu swallowed thickly, shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He had a light buzz and Califia was staring at him with those cat eyes of hers that took on a sultry look from the rays of the setting sun. She pursed her lips like she was about to say something else and Xavier led her away to lead the pack towards the next hangout spot. Man or no man, N'Jobu needed to be near her. He tagged along despite his misgivings.

###

Califia stood near the back of the bar listening to the reggae band do a fair rendition of "Sun is Shining". She was swaying along with the heavy bass rhythms, Xavier next to her with his fourth beer in his hand. She kept her mouth shut after his third beer, but the fourth one was causing him to act a little sloppy in public. The bar was packed with eager dancing patrons, their little posse bringing in the smattering of color in an otherwise predominately white space. Behind her, N'Jobu sat on a barstool enjoying the vibe and downing a rum and coke. He was only five feet away from her, but she could feel his eyes on her, boring into the back of her head. Xavier had been extra touchy-feely with her in the reggae bar and it made her feel uncomfortable because he was only doing it when N'Jobu was near them.

The first thirty minutes in the bar had been fun, the entire group dancing on the small cement dance floor. N'Jobu had been snagged by a pretty sandy-haired white woman, and Califia enjoyed watching him sway to the loud music. He was actually a pretty good dancer and she catcalled him when the music got good to him and he flashed her his pearly whites and she felt her cheeks raise up higher than usual when she smiled back at him. That's when Xavier caught a whiff of something between them and started fondling her more openly. He wasn't one for public PDA, but Califia's flirty behavior around N'Jobu kicked it up a few notches.

N'Jobu had switched out his dancing partner for a cute black woman with a sexy frohawk, and the live band high-powered through a classic Dawn Penn jam. Califia's arms were casually draped around Xavier's neck as she watched N'Jobu dance and talk to the woman, his hands sliding up and down the woman's back. N'Jobu wasn't wearing his jacket while dancing, and the woman was rubbing her hands up and down his arms.

Xavier spun Califia around and pressed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing his crotch against her ass.

"There it is baby," he said, singing along with the song and dry humping her, "arch that back girl, show these fools how it's done."

Xavier's hands slid down from her shoulders and held her waist, his hips gyrating and thrusting against her. She stepped away from his grip, turning to face him with a rigid smile on her face. She could feel his dick pressing into her stomach when she hugged him.

"Be good," she hissed at him as she tried to ignore the pokes his hardness was giving to her.

Over Xavier's shoulder, she could see N'Jobu watching her, his eyes gone narrow. She gave him a little wave and he nodded at her. She noticed his hands were riding just above his partner's butt and her lips pressed together in a tight grimace when she felt Xavier's hands grabbing and separating her ass cheeks with his hands.

"Baby you feel so good," Xavier murmured. His mouth crashed into her lips while she was still staring at N'Jobu. His kisses were sloppy and over-exaggerated and Califia endured it until the song ended. As the crowd clapped, Califia pushed away from Xavier.

"I'm going to get some water," she said, hurrying away from him.

Now they were standing together and listening to music, Xavier giving harsh whispers in her ear every other minute.

"Why are you tripping tonight?" Xavier asked.

"You are doing a little too much for me."

"Like what?"

"I don't need you molesting me in public."

"Molesting you? You're my woman. We're having fun."

"I'll keep it buck then, you're not holding your liquor and I don't like how you're touching me."

"You crazy."

Xavier walked into the crowd to get closer to the band. Califia drew in a deep breath and released a sigh of relief. The last thing she needed was for Xavier to get loud and make a scene, embarrassing her in front of her friends. She turned around to go back to the bar and found N'Jobu still sitting and watching her.

"Everything okay?"

"Not really."

She sat on the stool next to him and asked for a coke from the bartender.

"Trouble in paradise then?"

"Tuh," she answered. She drank her coke and watched the band. The room was jam-packed to the rafters, she couldn't even see where her people were, not even Xavier.

"The music is very good," he said.

She stared at N'Jobu knowing he was trying to lighten her mood.

"You are a good dancer," she said giving him a sly smile. She saw his eyes relax and it made her feel better.

"You are much better. I like watching you move."

She smiled again.

"You want to dance?" he asked.

"Not right now, if that's okay. I just need to chill for a minute. Xavier's got my pressure up."

N'Jobu nodded, set down his drink and slipped off the stool.

"You don't have to go," Califia said quickly, reaching out and pulling his arm back. She looked at her hand on his arm and pulled away fast. She hadn't meant to grab him. She looked desperate and her face grew warm.

"Sorry," she whispered.

N'Jobu didn't get back on the stool, but he did stand in front of her. He was close enough so that his thighs were touching her knees. He was almost eye level with her.

"What's the problem with you and Xavier?"

Califia tilted her head back and laughed in a way that had a little bite to it.

"Everything," she stammered, and then caught herself with her open honesty. N'Jobu's eyes didn't press her, but they did make her feel safe. She took a long sip of her coke and leaned in closer so N'Jobu could hear her clearly. She was cognizant of the fact that her knees were pressing hard into his thighs at this point. Her head was still a bit foggy with the drinking she did earlier, but she was comfortable.

"Earlier he told me he had bought tickets for us to go to New Orleans for winter break. But I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. I told him that. He was upset that he paid for a ticket I might not use. That's the first thing." She took another sip of coke, "You really don't need to hear this, it's boring," she said.

"No, keep going. It's good to talk things out with other people. I'm a good listener," he said.

His voice had grown deeper, at least that's how it sounded to Califia. His expression was like that of a Priest patiently taking in a confessional with no judgment.

"Xavier is a great dude. He's smart, educated, about to get a bomb ass job-"

"And very good-looking," N'Jobu said smiling at her.

"No doubt. On paper, he is everything a woman is supposed to want. But sometimes I look at him like it's not enough. Like he doesn't get me. He's the longest relationship I've ever been in, but I feel like there might be something else out there better for me. And I feel like shit for thinking that when other women would give their teeth for a man like him."

She shook her head at how easy that flowed from her mouth. She hadn't even said those things to Soliel or Bakari. But here she was giving somewhat intimate details about her boyfriend to a man she had masturbated over. Many times. Jesus be a rock.

"Serah told me to break up with him."

"Why don't you? You aren't happy, right? Just end it."

Califia's chest hitched a bit and she felt the pinpricks of a small tear forming in her right eye.

"I don't want to hurt him," she murmured and the lone tear fell down her cheek. She reached up to wipe her cheek, but N'Jobu already had his left thumb on her face wiping the teardrop away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he said. Califia took in another deep breath and released it. She felt a shudder go through herself. There. She had finally confessed her real reason for not breaking up. She didn't want to hurt Xavier.

"I keep hoping he'll dump me, or we'll have this huge dramatic fight where I can act belligerent and he just tells me he quits, but it never happens. We are in this stalemate. Comfortably numb. I tell myself there has to be someone that's a better fit for me, but I'm scared there won't be, and what if I leave him on a whim and I never find that other person?"

N'Jobu still had his thumb on her cheek.

"You'll never know if you don't let him go, Califia."

"I'm holding him hostage, aren't I?"

N'Jobu only gave her a sad smile.

"I'm such a selfish bitch. I need to make a decision soon."

"I wish you would," he said, his voice gone husky, almost like a command.

Califia stared at N'Jobu. His thumb traced down her face and touched her lips. The sensation of his thumb on her lips tickled and sparked the skin there. She pursed her lips so that the touch felt like a kiss. Another tear formed in her eye.

"You are beautiful when you are angry, you are beautiful when you laugh, and you are even more beautiful when you cry," he said.

"Thank you," she said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I wish you weren't with him because I really want to kiss you right now," he said.

The strumming in her heart turned into a gallop as his eyes swept down to her lips. The music in the bar was far away, the voices of the other patrons gone mute in her mind. She opened her thighs and pulled him closer to her, holding onto his arms. He rested his forehead on hers and she closed her eyes. She tried to match his steady breathing, but her own breathing was erratic. She could smell the rum on his breath as he let his hands run up her thighs and rest on her hips.

"Califia," he said.

"Say my whole name," she said, still clutching his arms, afraid to move, afraid to escape his warmth.

He chuckled and whispered in her ear, "Califia Stevens." Her toes curled in her heels, and the tingle from his tongue swiping her ear when he spoke her name felt like the fluttering of butterflies. She could probably cum from him just whispering her name over and over.

She pulled her forehead away from his and cradled his neck with her hands.

"Say my name again," she told him.

###

When N'Jobu opened his mouth to speak her name, Califia pressed her lips into his and slipped her tongue inside his mouth. He didn't back away from her. He didn't tell her to stop. Their tongues swirled around trying to find an acceptable rhythm, and when N'Jobu's hands pressed into her lower back, she ceded control of their mouths over to him. Now in control, N'Jobu plundered the heat he found between their lips encouraged to keep his pace by the soft humming he heard deep in her throat. He slowed down to enjoy the wet smacking sounds they gave off. He pulled her closer to the edge of the barstool leaning back just a bit so that she couldn't feel the strain of his cock growing thicker in his pants.

Kissing her deeply, slowly, wetly, he found his mind feverishly trying to gather his wits. Xavier was in the room somewhere, possibly heading back to them, or maybe even her friends would spot them and break up their joining. He had been dying to kiss her all day but felt the opportunity would never happen with Xavier there, but here they were lip-locked, with Califia sucking on his tongue the way he imagined her sucking on his dick.

"Califia, shit," he growled in her mouth, threading his fingers through the back of her bushy hair and yanking hard on it so that she was looking up into his face from the force of his grip.

Her lips were parted and he could see that magical tongue between her teeth. Her eyes were half closed and up close he could see how thick her eyebrows were. He kissed the freckles on her nose, pulled her hair harder and buried his face on the side of her neck, nipping her on a spot just shy of her collarbone.

He started lightly sucking on her neck, enjoying the whimpers spilling from her lips and the quivering from her thighs. He could feel his dick twitching in his pants, probably already spilling sticky beads of pre-cum inside his boxers. He needed to stop or he would be fucking this girl on the barstool and not giving a fuck who was in the room.

He pulled away from her, panting a bit himself and giving up more space between them. No one seemed to be paying attention to them, so he hopped up on his stool and gulped down the last of his rum and coke.

He watched Califia run her fingers on the edges of her lips to fix the last of her ruined lip gloss. She closed her legs and tugged on her top, peeling away the material from the sweat on her upper body.

The girl with the frohawk ambled over to N'Jobu and asked him to dance and he jumped at the chance to get away from Califia, escape the dizzying power she had over him now that she had laid that kiss on him. He didn't even look back to see what her reaction was to his leaving her at the bar. He just needed to escape. And time to think.

He had women all over, and was free to kiss, flirt, fornicate and break hearts if he so desired. All his women were free. But Califia had Xavier. She wasn't free. And as much as he wanted her (in his bed, on his face, sitting on his dick), he was not down for any triangle. After that kiss, he needed to fuck her in every position possible before he left for Wakanda. If she fucked the way she kissed, he was a dead man. And she was worth dying for. Courtney, the girl he was dancing with tried getting his attention. They danced to a song called "Night Nurse", and Courtney was body rolling and smashing her cute ass against his groin, keeping him hard. He looked around to see Califia at the bar with Rolita, Soliel, and Aunjanue. They were having an animated discussion from what he could tell, and he wondered if the conversation was about him.

The band's last set was finished and terrible music replaced it from a D.J. who didn't follow the theme of the reggae vibes but instead blasted the audience with Euro-Pop. He felt his cell vibrate. Checking it he saw that everyone was meeting outside to say goodbye for the night. N'Jobu thanked Courtney for dancing with him and went to retrieve his bomber jacket from coat check.

The others were lingering on the corner away from the bar. Califia was speaking to Xavier in hushed tones, and N'Jobu knew she wouldn't break up with him right then, but he prayed that it would be tonight. He hoped she would do it quickly because there was a fire in his spirit that he didn't think he could suppress for very long.

He prided himself on being respectful, but deep down he knew he could fuck her while she was still with Xavier. If she couldn't break up with him because she was scared, he knew he was willing to do it for her. He was a Prince who had never been denied what he wanted when it came to women. He wanted Califia. Wanted her bad. The way she kissed him told him she wanted him too. He felt empathy for her situation. Xavier was a long-term love that had soured. She needed to uproot the man and make room for N'Jobu. Watching the shaky couple speak to one another bugged the hell out of N'Jobu. Now that he tasted those lips and felt those thighs and hips, he was ready to bulldoze Xavier out of the way in a heartbeat.

"I think you should come home with me."

N'Jobu overheard Califia telling Xavier to go with her. Xavier, a little loopy in the legs was pushing her hands off of him.

"Naw, I'm going to hang out with Julian a little bit. I'll be home later," Xavier slurred, kissing Califia on her cheek.

"We'll be fine, Califia. I'll have him home no later than midnight. He won't turn into a pumpkin, I promise," Julian said waving goodnight to everyone. The two men lumbered off into the night laughing together, and N'Jobu eased his way over to Califia and Bakari.

Hugs were given, goodbyes were shared, and N'Jobu soon found himself walking to a BART station with Bakari and Califia. The ride to Xavier's apartment was mellow. They talked about the band, how good the music was and which pale ale or cider they liked the best.

In no time they were walking Califia up to Xavier's apartment.

"Hey, the Syfy channel is having a Godzilla marathon. You want to make popcorn and watch the next one coming on?" Califia suggested.

"Microwave or hot air?" Bakari asked.

"Hot air, with real butter," Califia said.

"You down?" Bakari asked N'Jobu.

He was. He would get a chance to see where Califia crashed, and spend a little more time with her, even if Bakari was there. The night was still young.

###

Xavier's place was small. The bathroom was inside their bedroom. N'Jobu relieved himself of the last vestiges of liquor in his system. Snacking on fresh popcorn and bottled water, he felt clear-headed and fully hydrated.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he couldn't help but stare at the double bed that Xavier shared with Califia. It was unmade. He pushed thoughts of them together in that space out of his head. She didn't want him anymore. There was no need to harbor any envy towards Xavier. According to Califia, he was a good dude, but not the one for her. On a folding chair near their bed, N'Jobu spotted a pair of skimpy bikini panties and a lace bra. He gritted his teeth. Why did she stay here if she didn't want him? She had a grandmother who had a house and friends with places. Hell, she could stay with him and Bakari.

He stopped his train of thought. Slow down, he told himself. She was a chick he wanted to dick down in the worst way. No need to be thinking roommates and shit. His lust was writing checks he knew his ass couldn't cash. He'd lusted after women before, but he hadn't given thoughts to moving them in. It was just his male ego wilding a bit at seeing where another man fucked Califia. He clenched his fists. She was going to be his soon. Stop tripping.

When he returned to the livingroom, Bakari was still curled up in blankets on a bean bag near a plush maroon couch where Califia was seated. They each had fresh bowls of popcorn. Califia passed N'Jobu his bowl.

"Lots of butter this time," she said. N'Jobu sat next to her, keeping his legs on the floor and away from Califia's legs which were curled on the couch. They got through half of a Godzilla movie on Monster Island when Bakari fell asleep, snoring into the bean bag.

"We should leave," N'Jobu said, staring at Bakari slumped low inside the beanbag, the blanket surrounding him covering his face.

"No rush, Xavier's not coming back tonight. You guys can crash here if you want."

"Your man knows Bakari very well, but he doesn't know me. That will probably not be cool with him."

He saw Califia flinch a bit when he called Xavier her man. He stared at her, glanced at her lips, then looked into her eyes again. He wanted to devour her lips.

"Should we talk about the kiss at the bar?" she asked.

"Only if you want to."

"I do."

He waited for her to speak. She was wearing a long button up Wonder Woman nightshirt and thick wool socks on her feet. Her hair was still blooming all over her head.

"It was wrong of me to do that. Especially since I'm still with someone. I shouldn't have put you in a messy situation."

"I don't care."

Califia blinked at him several times.

"You don't?"

"I like you a lot, Califia. I want to spend time with you. It just so happens you are with someone. As soon as you fix that, I will properly step to you."

Her mouth fell open, then shut, then opened again. N'Jobu reached over into her popcorn bowl, snagged a few buttery kernels and popped them into her mouth.

"I think of you all the time, Califia. And the way you kissed me tonight was…whoa."

She chuckled. He reached out for her hand. She looked down at him, then placed her left hand in his.

"What about you? Do you think of me?" The playful lilt in his voice moved her. He kissed her hand, still waiting for her to answer.

"I do, and I feel so guilty about it."

N'Jobu held up a hand to stop her from negative talk.

"The heart wants what the heart wants. Leave all the bad thoughts you have about your situation behind. People grow apart. It is natural. You say you are worried about not finding someone after you leave him. Who am I to you?"

Bakari snored loudly and shifted in the bean bag, but neither one of them was worried about him listening to their conversation. Once Bakari was knocked out, he was out.

"You don't want to answer me?"

"It's just a lot N'Jobu."

"I understand that. But…who am I to you?"

"Someone I'd like to know better."

"As a friend only?"

"No."

He put his bowl of popcorn on the floor and pulled a tense Califia onto his lap.

"Relax," he said holding her by her waist and legs.

"This is weird for me," she said.

"How so?"

"We've only hung out together a few times, but it feels intense each time. We know nothing about each other. And yet…"

"And yet what?"

She shrugged and hid her face in her hands.

"I don't know. It feels like it did when I was nine and had my first crush."

"I am honored to be your grown-up crush."

Califia giggled.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked.

She nodded and he lifted up his face and found her lips once more. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and his left hand held her face. The kissing this time was gentle, still filled with longing and exploration, but N'Jobu wanted to relish the moment without waking up Bakari. He made sure not to nibble or suck too hard on her neck, not wanting to leave love bites for Xavier to see in the morning. When the thought of Xavier crossed through his mind again, he broke from their kiss leaving Califia sighing in frustration.

"Can I touch you?" he asked.

She nodded vigorously, and he kissed her again, licking the outline of her lips and then sucking on her tongue, tasting the salt and butter from their late-night snack. Her nipples had beaded through her nightgown, and N'Jobu reached up and tugged on each one through the cloth. He watched Califia bite back a moan when he touched her, so he tugged harder, looking at the protrusions. He unbuttoned the nightgown down to her belly, freeing her breasts. When he saw them in the glow of the television, he looked up at her face, his fingers pulling on each nipple. She did her best to remain silent, but she bit into her full lips, and the vision of that made him squeeze his eyes shut and shift her ass harder onto his dick.

Califia rotated her hips and ground herself into his lap, feeling the swelling of him push back on her.

"N'Jobu, suck on my nipples…please."

He obliged, his lush lips taking turns wrapping around each ripe nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue at varying speeds. He liked how big her nipples swelled, so he kept alternating his ministrations, sucking on one and tugging on the other, the pulling sensation so intense for her he guessed because she was whimpering up a storm on his lap. She started bouncing on his dick and he let one of her nipples slip from his mouth with a loud pop because it was too much for him. He wanted to play with her pussy, but that was too risky. They were already pushing it with Bakari on the floor covered up and snoring like a banshee.

"Damn," she uttered under her breath, her eyes finally opening back up to stare at him, "I can feel your dick….so…big," she gasped. He shifted her on his lap so that she was facing him, her thighs spread on either side of his hips. He could see and play with her big tits fully as she rocked on him. He didn't want to pull up her nightgown to see her panties. It was enough to have her grinding on him. He held her shoulders and alternated sucking on her tits and fondling them.

"Can I touch you?" she asked.

Holy Bast, he wanted her to. But he couldn't. He could barely contain himself with her jockeying on his lap. He didn't even want to lift up her gown and look at her pussy which had to be soaking her panties.

With his teeth set on edge, he whispered, "No."

The look on her face made him feel horrible like he had stolen a gift from her on Christmas like the Grinch. But then she twisted her bottom lip and bit on it again, and the look of denied pleasure she gave him made his dick jump in his pants and she felt it.

"Califia, sithandwa sam, you have me so turned on, I could cum right now."

"We could go into the bedroom," she said, lifting up. He yanked her back down hard by her hips. She gasped. His eyes narrowed when he looked at her.

"I'm not going into that bedroom with you. When I take you all the way, it will be in my bed. Understand?"

She nodded. The thought of that double bed brought out tight cords in his neck.

"Did you fuck him today?"

Her eyes widened and her mouth parted. But she didn't answer him.

He lifted up her nightgown in the back and slapped her ass hard with a wide-open palm. Her body lurched forward, forcing her to grip his shoulders for balance and she quickly glanced over at Bakari.

"Don't look at him. Look at me. Answer the question. Did you fuck Xavier today?"

He rubbed her full left ass cheek with his right hand, knowing the sting was wearing off, even as his dick swelled bigger from striking her. She took it like a big girl. He slapped her ass again in the same spot. She squeezed her eyelids shut, keeping all sound inside herself. He rubbed her ass tenderly, lifted up the smacked cheek and squeezed it. Damn this girl was too much for him.

"Hit me again and I'll tell you," she snarled at him.

N'Jobu felt his eyebrows raise up on his face. He gave her a nasty smile and struck her other ass cheek twice, hard enough to make her wince and suck on her teeth. He rubbed the tender flesh. Then squeezed both her round globes in his hands. He needed to end this soon.

"Tell me," he whispered. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. She picked up on it and ran with it.

"What if I did?"

She was gyrating on him and he did his best to stay on task, to not shut his eyes and let her dominate him for a while. She was pushing him to his limit. He knew she would, eventually. She started bouncing on him again, learning very quickly that he liked that. Her motion made her titties bounce too, and he sat there watching heaven on his lap. If he didn't get her off of him soon, he was going to nut in his pants. He was too old to have cum in his pants and not inside a woman he wanted. He yanked her by her hair and pulled her face closer to his.

It would be easy to take Bakari home in his car, then drive back to her in his own BMW and fuck the wokeness out of her. But this was not the time and most definitely was not the place. He twisted his fingers in her hair tighter, letting her know she'd better stop playing with him.

"Ow, Jobu…baby," she pleaded. Good God of the worlds. He loved it when she called him that. No one had ever called him Jobu. He was going to countdown and rejoice on the day he finally blew her back out.

"The question," he said.

"Yes. I did. I fucked him. Early this morning. I fucked him."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Why do you care?"

The corners of his mouth lifted in a wicked smile that made her bite her lip again. He released her hair, unfastened his pants and pulled down his boxers just enough to release his dick that bobbed against his stomach once it was freed. He grabbed her right hand and placed it on his cock. She squeezed it, gripping the swollen head so tight he gritted his teeth to keep from spilling all over her hand.

"This is your dick now. Understand? I don't want you fucking him ever again. You break up with him. I'm not going to rush you, Califia. But this will be waiting for you."

He let her stroke him. His dick was so slick with pre-cum that they both enjoyed the slippery sound of her hand running up and down his shiny length. She leaned in and kissed him while she stroked him.

"This mine?" she whispered in his ear.

"All yours," he said kneading her tits and plucking on her nipples once more.

She stopped playing with his dick and shoved her fingers into her panties.

"Don't you want to touch me here?"

He released her breasts and zipped up his pants. He drew her back in for another wet kiss then pulled away from her.

"When I touch you there and make you cum, you have to be a free woman."

Califia fastened her nightgown.

"You should go then," she said.

Califia shifted in his lap and stood up, grabbing the popcorn bowls and taking them into her kitchen. N'Jobu adjusted his private parts and woke Bakari up from the floor.

"Let's go, Bakari."

It took N'Jobu nearly ten minutes to get Bakari awake and shuffling to find his shoes. N'Jobu took Bakari's car keys from his pocket. Califia was back from the kitchen watching them.

"Do you need some help with him?" she asked N'Jobu.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," Bakari fussed at her.

"I'm driving," N'Jobu said.

"Bet," Bakari said heading out the front door and down the stairs to get to his car.

N'Jobu stood by the open front door facing Califia. She didn't move towards him.

"I meant what I said. I won't rush you," he said.

"Okay."

A new awkwardness permeated the room. They both felt the shift in the air, the change in their interactions weighing heavily on them. She was not his woman, but he had staked a claim on her. Told her directly. She wanted him too, he was sure of that. The ball was in her court. He wouldn't act until she came to him first. For the first time in a long time, Prince N'Jobu Udaku was at the mercy of a woman for affection that he craved like air. He wanted….no, needed, he needed her to give herself to him. No strings. No wounded lover on her mind.

"Goodnight, Califia."

Chapter 9 HERE.