Forget About Me

Duval Street oozed with revelers celebrating the end of days. The past week like no other. Air quality decreased because of nearby infernos. Much of the region reduced to rubble and chaos by a massive upheaval, but that didn’t stop the party. Amid the haze, neon lights from the bars and clubs glowed along the thoroughfare.

Vaughn Lloyd suffered with anxiety accompanied with bouts of depression, which at times made him appear aloof and prevented him from establishing meaningful relationships. The notion of a stable relationship wasn’t jarring, but the only person he cared about didn’t reciprocate sentiments, and the notion of him probably never seeing her again exacerbated his mental volatility, and fueled his sexual voraciousness.

Tall, lean with a slender face, dark brooding eyes, Vaughn possessed the smooth, graceful stride of a d-boy, naturally appealing to them.

Each of them like a box of chocolates. Different flavors, tastes, and ooey-gooey centers. Others aged like fine wine, getting better with time and had him falling like a leaf in autumn.

He lay in a bed, which felt strange, pillows billowy like a pair of kissable lips; sheets wet and broken-in. Vaughn turned over and found LaVonne Jones, but she went by the stage name Caramel because of her gorgeous brown complexion, sexy dimples and beautiful cheeks, and then there was her face to match. Also, the most alluring eyes that could separate a fool from his money, useful in her line of work. One of the most beautiful women he laid eyes on, but was loose like an old gym sock.

Evening sun filtered through the blinds and casted light across her face. Appearing peaceful as she slept, a pang of guilt washed over him for judging her.

He yawned, rubbed his eyes, which felt grainy like a pound of rice, and looked around.

The suite, spacious and brightly painted with two full sized beds, contemporary furniture, a fully stocked mini bar, a modern fully equipped bathroom finished with top quality saffron colored ceramics. In-home automated system that regulated the temperature also came equipped.

Vaughn got up from the bed, put on his drawers and went over to his book bag.

Unzipped, reached inside, sifted around and uncovered what he was after.

Vaughn retreated to the bathroom where he downed the Zoloft, prescribed, with a gulp of water, but not before staring long and hard at his reflection.

After, he went across the suite to the window and peered down into parking lot, jammed with cars, partiers and litter. It was easy to party round the clock and break all ordinances since law enforcement dwindled to a trickle.

“I musta slept all day,” he stared out into the distance at the sunset. Red and orange embers burned across the sky.

“That party was really good.” Vaughn recalled.

They ended up at this Soca fete on the beach where he received dubs and numbers from every direction. A flaming sleeve tattoo on his arm and burgeoning physique proved a great conversation piece for picking up girls, better than any wingman. It was a crazy night, but after the week from hell, a night well deserved.

Vaughn lucked out winding up here, at one of the most fortified dwellings in the area.

He looked out to the southernmost point and marveled at the storm-ravaged coastline.

Surfers enjoyed bodacious breakers. Among them, Terrance Glover, a lanky handsome fella with an athletic build, green eyes and intricately designed braids, his lighter tone-skin and wavy hair misled many into believing he was Hispanic, but he was black.

“What’s this fool doin’?” Vaughn asked himself, feeling his cell phone buzz in his pocket.

He pulled out his phone and his eyes illuminated when he saw who it was.

“Eboni?!” he answered over excitedly with a gooey, marbled twang. “Hi,” her voice soft as velvet.

His best friend since third grade. She was 5’5” from the floor with beautiful mocha skin, engaging eyes and was so smart and one of the most courageous people ever. A waiting vessel for the violence the underworld cruelly inflicted. Mixture of beauty and brawn, she was a warrior.

Vaughn confessed his admiration, but she gently spurned his sentiments.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. “We’re all okay.”

“Where are you?”

“We made it to NY, but it’s like a police state here. Everything locked down and it’s so cold. But I know that necklace is here, and once I get my hands on it, I know I can undo everything.”

“Everything?” Vaughn echoed regretfully because he received some of the best loving ever since the end began.

“Everything!” Eboni said firmly. “The looting, the riots, the uncanny weather events. Everything.”

She continued, “I think it’s being held in Grand Central, I can see it my dreams.”

“In your dreams, huh? What does it look like?” he probed.

“It’s stunning…” she began. “This beautiful heart shaped pendant necklace with a crimson stone.”

“It sounds beautiful.” He said.

“Yeah, it’s calling out to me. Its matrix needs to be realigned before retrograde and I’ll see to that.” Eboni guaranteed.

“Well be careful. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you.” Vaughn said softly.

“Don’t worry, Vaughn.” Eboni reassured.

“Okay,” Vaughn said.

“Where are you?” she asked.

“Key West.” He told her.

“What? Vaughn!”

“I know, I know, I should be in Cali, but the airport shut down and the Interstate packed with abandoned cars. You should’ve seen it.”

“I did. On our way here we saw a lot of stalled cars on 95.” Eboni said.

“We’re here at this resort on the beach. High walls, strong building, but last night anger and frustration made it in.” Vaughn said poignantly. “People are really starting to show the hates in their hearts.”

“It’s scary,” his reiteration reflected more concern.

“Don’t worry,” she reassured again. “We heading out soon and within the next 24, this should all be over.”

“You didn’t answer my question the last time we spoke. When will I see you again?” he asked.

“Soon,” reluctance ticked in her voice. “As soon as we retrieve the pendant, I’ll be back.”

“You’re lying to me?” he accused.

Eboni sighed.

“Talk to me.”

“Just live your life and forget about me.”

“What?”

“I might have to invoke the necklaces’ power and doing that might…” she stopped.

“Then don’t, invoke its power.” Vaughn told her.

“If I want to fix things, I’m gonna have too.” Eboni said.

“Can’t someone else do it?” Vaughn asked.

“No!” she objected strongly.

“You can’t do this.” Vaughn’s voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t want you to…please, just think about this.”

“I thought about it. I have to do this.” she continued. “But remember what I told you, forget about me.” Her voice came over the line and connected with his thoughts. A warm euphoric glow emanated in his eyes.

“I need you to move on and forget me!” she commanded repeatedly.

“Forget,” he echoed her thoughts; pupils glowed like lamps.

Meanwhile, Terrance straddled the board. One hand trailed in the water while the other shielded his eyes from the sunset. The board rose and fell gently with the waves. Terrance glanced over and saw a couple of guys, traditional Florida surfers with long blonde hair to match their dark tans.

Terrance always liked surfing. When he was younger, he came out and rode the wave for hours, but ever since his life changed, he never got the chance to put in the hours.

He bent forward over the board and splashed some water onto his face—a bit nervous but compelled to do this.

Awesome waves worth riding and a bevy of beauties still on the beach. He was getting one of them before he left, he knew he could—all he had to do was show off his skills.

Squinting against the glare, Terrance found it. Tall and gentle with the barest ripple of white at its crest. Instantly, his heartbeat sped up.

Low on the board and paddling toward the shoreline, Terrance glanced over his shoulder, discerning the moment the wave would break. As best he could, adjusted the angle of the board’s nose. The roar of an engine reached him, along with the distant sound of a boat horn.

He turned around and saw a curvy red head and her slender blonde friend looking on.

A wave swept in, rising higher than the level of the ocean, but it was going to pass him before it began to break. Terrance nearly lost his balance when he stood on the board, fought to regain his equilibrium, and did, but just as he did, a wave was upon him.

Seawater spattered as its crest turned white and started to break.

The ocean swelled beneath him, as he held his arms out—as though on a tightrope, and his toes gripped the board as the wave propelled him forward. He shouted, mostly to himself and the gulls circling overhead.

Terrance caught the wave. He put exact pressure with his feet, shifted his weight, slightly, and surfed the crest as the swell tumbled and broke and went to shore.

A surge of victorious adrenaline pushed through him as he cut across the face of the wave, sensing its raw power as he sliced into it.

Terrance rocketed along the front of the wave even as he lost some of his momentum. He did it. Rode the wave. He hadn’t surfed like this in years. It felt great. The salty ocean breeze smacked him in the face as he sailed along the swell. The corners of his mouth creased into a smile. He took his eyes off the water, only for a second, to take in the incredible sunset, when something raced through the water under the board. He glimpsed down and spotted the slick, dark forms arching through the water, just under the top of the wave, two of them, then another.

Terrance twisted his body, adjusting the angle of the board to avoid impact. It was too late though. The board struck whatever was swimming around under the wave.

Initially, it appeared to be a manatee, but Terrance couldn’t discern. Everything happened so fast. The surfboard smashed into soft, oily fur and fatty flesh, and Terrance flew off the board, limbs flailing, water rushed toward him.

Vaughn gasped. “Oh shit!”

That’s when he realized he was on the telephone and someone was on the other end.

“Hello?” he sounded confused.

“Hello,” the strange voice answered back.

“Who is this?”

She chuckled and said, “No one, sorry to bother you, sir.”

Then the line went silent leaving Vaughn flummoxed and unfulfilled.

Moments before Terrance hit the ocean, the wave rolled over him and the surfboard crashed into him with an impact so hard it astounded him.

Excruciating pain radiated across his shoulder. It struck so hard the bone broke.

Terrance fought against the choppy breakers and pulled himself up.

Saltwater stung his eyes as he struggled to stay afloat. A heap of seawater churned his belly. Between pained gasp, he felt like he was going to vomit.

Rough waves pushed him under, then over, then under again. Weakly, Terrance reached upward through the water and felt his hand break the surface, clutching air.

Terrance tasted something in the water, something terrible. Blood! he realized as he gasped for air.

The water discolored with his blood, Terrance knew he had to get to shore quickly, before it attracted any sharks. He wondered if that’s what he’d seen shortly before the crash. Through the excruciating pain spiraling through his shoulder, Terrance spotted his board headed toward the sand and started in that direction.

Terrance climbed onto the board, clutching his injured shoulder. He lay on it and stared up into the darkening sky. Someone yelled from the shore and he wanted to look, but his neck was stiff with pain. The waves carried the board toward the shoreline.