THE NIKEL chapter 3

Mostly, at first, it was the red shoes. Life loved red high-heeled shoes on women and the way she moved in them was slow and on purpose. They fit nicely on her feet and exposed her pefectly French manicured toes. His eyes followed the straps that wrapped around her ankles three times slowly and crawled up her legs then tied into two sexy bows. He remembered clearly that she had on a sheer cream dress that came down just under her thighs and gathered at her waist. He traced her frame slowly from her feet up to the spaghetti straps over her tanned sholders.

"Excuse me. Would you like to dance?"

He felt nervous like he was at the Lincoln Middle School social in the girl's gym all over again. She took his hand and led him to the edge of the dance floor and moved gracefully like a professional dancer as if he wasn't even there. Her body parts isolated as her hips moved slowly one way while her shoulders moved the other. Her arms and each finger dictated the story the whole time. Life was like a thief in a bank on a recon mission the way he quickly sized her up and noted every physical detail possible. Her long black hair was pulled back tightly and tied in a bun. Not like the latest black woman's hair fashion, which was hair slicked back with too much gel and then from nowhere a surprise ponytail that curled and frizzed and was supposed to look natural but looked more like Christmas presents instead. She was natural and stood under his 6' frame at 5'9" in those three-inch heels. Hazlenut coffee brown skin with heavy cream and just as sweet he suspected.

"I'm Saundra. What's your name?" She asked as they cha chaed to Bill Withers' "Just the two of us."

"Life." But he wasn't Life that night. He was Alfred Livingston. A boy who was still awkward and nervous who had grown into a man and was dancing with a gorgeous woman he would never feel good enough to receive love from. He didn't imagine that night that this was the woman he would later wake up with and watch her pack her gym bag to go swimming before going to work. He didn't know that she would cook for him food so good it would make him miss his aunts back home. Three songs later, Superman lover, Strokin' and Ribbon in the Sky they finished dancing and he bought her a whisky sour and rum and coke for him.

"I'm love. You're peace." He handed her the drink and she received it as delicately as if he was giving her a flower he had just picked. The glasses at The Nikel were all engraved with positive words and messages. love, peace, be kind, smile...always something suited to whatever you needed to hear. Like forturne cookies. For a brief moment he looked at his glass and remembered the last time he was there he was so pissed off with his record label and had considered leaviing. He thought it was funny how his glass simply siad 'Jump.' He should have. They found a quiet corner at the north wall of the dimly lit room under the mural of the purple kissing hearts.

"Happy birthday." He said.

"Thank you."

"How lucky for me to meet the birthday girl and steal her away from her party. Are your friends going to come snatch you away from me soon?"

"Not likely. My birthday was actually yesterday. I celebrated with my girls last night. Mostly those are people I work with. My birthday is a good excuse, but they're here to end the week and release the stress."

"That bad huh?"

"Not always. But sometimes. Why are you here?"

Their elbows rested on the carved out masks on the wooden tables, and with their heads in their palms they talked. He was relaxed as he listened to her soft and sure voice. He hadn' remembered conversations that easy before where he spoke and she responded, she asked and he answered. As Life looked back he laughed at the thought that they probably looked like Jonnie and chachie sitting togehter sharing a malt at Al's diner.

"No brothers. Three sisters though, but no brothers. And my relationship with my grandmother? No one has ever asked that before. Let's see..." No thoughts from either of them whether it was right to ask "So why did the two of you split up?" or if "What did you get your mother for Valentine's Day?" was corny. Who cared about what was too much information? Cool or smooth? There was only her perfect smile and full lips and great teeth. Only sweat beading on his bald head he hoped she didn't notice. His fingers that inched their way to touch the tip of her wrist. Again. The way she smelled. Like green. His shoulders fell being near that...green...that eased the tension from his neck. After an hour of straight talk he gave her his number and she handed him hers.

"It's not really my style to call a woman the very next moring but since we had such a good time last night I thought I'd check to see if you'd like to go out again."

"Well, for the record, we didn't really go out last night. I was there and you were there." She didn't care that he could her in her voice that she expected him to call. "And I'd love to."

Hooking up, falling in love, making connections was easy at The Nikel. The place was a work of art. It was a Basquiat masterpiece in the middle of real life surrounded by liquor stores that stayed open all night in one way or another. Stores that sold alcohol, candy and condoms by day and weed, crack and pussy by night. It was also next to storefront churches and schools. There were black owned clothing boutiques that sold the latest "fashions" for ten dollars and up. Hair and nail shops where Asians promised "hair straight like mine." And then there was The Nikel.

Hannibal loved art. He collected things. Collected people. Connected dots and made wholes. The walls were covered with rare photos of Billie Holiday, Nina Simone, Miles Davis and other jazz musicians, many of them played and hung out at the club across town Hannibal owned before the one in Inglewood. The Blue Lights, The Notes and The Christian Brothers were a few of the really great jazz bands that played there. There was always a magical kind of energy there. Couples danced and dishes clinked among the buzz of conversations from various tables. There was talk about everything, politics, teacher strikes layoffs, music, celebrity gossip, Sunday sermons, prayer meetings, sick, shut in, sinners, saved, sex and money. There were people from all of the local religious denominations. too. They met there so often The Nikel could have been called First St. Nikel Scecond Baptist Church of God in Holy Apostolic A.M.E.

The Nikel was where you went if you went if you wanted to wanted a classy fun time. A good night that didn't include driving all the way to Hollywood and fighting the North La Brea or freeway traffic. When you didn't have to pay too much to park, didn't have to eat bad food or get bad service. Not at The Nikel.

The third floor was where you could dance all night to live jazz. That's where Life met Saundra, but on the second floor the energy moved a bit faster to the hip-hop and go-go funk. You could see all of the hip-hop kings and queens there, old school, new school and some that you haven't heard of but most likey would. They would have dj, rap, beat boxing and dance battles every week and the really good ones would walk out of there with three hundred dollars or more a piece just from the competitions. That wasn't counting the money they made selling tapes and cds.

Hannibal owned The Nikel but Willow Rains ran it. Sassy enough and didn't take no stuff. Like all the women in her family she knew how to talk to folks and stand her ground. Willow met Hannibal her first year in school at Santa Monia Comunity College. She interviewed him as part of a school project. "I just wanna know how you got started and who helped you? Did you think it would be the blessing to the community that it is when you started? Can you give any advice to a young woman trying to become sself employed?" She was filled with questions and said she could tell Hannibal liked her right away and told her that he would give her a job booking the comedians after she finished school. She didn't graduate but decided she was done with school after she and Marvin got together and had a baby boy, Alex.

Since she had done such a good job dealing with all of the comedians, Hannibal promoted her. She was basically in charge of the whole club. Tuesday nights were always the busiest nights at The Nikel for Willow. She had to get to the club early to make sure that there was enough change for the drawers, the tables were set up and the djs and bands for the second and third floors were all ready. Hannibal always told her to empower her team and stop being such a solo player.

Something was wrong with her niece Neb's Impala one Tuesday night so Willow had to pick her up on top of stopping to get the oil changed in her own barely running Maxima. She was glad to have Neb in town from Chicago working with her wihle she was in college. But that night, on top of everything she also had to make dinner for Alex 'cause another TV dinner just wouldn't do and she was done with him having McDonald's. Plus, she had to deal with the cramps that were just too much that month. The Advil worked, but made her too sleepy.

Earlier in the day she had driven an hour and a half out to Palmdale to have a meeting with Alex's teacher. School break started that day, which meant that Alex would be home with her for the next month. She was really excited about that. No matter how much work she had to do, she would work it out. She had to find a babysitter for him since Marvin's sister Mella had a last minute whatever come up. Willow had an aunt out in Lakewood she asked to baby sit and Alex always had a good time over there. She just hated calling on her at the last minute. But after having juggled all the balls and put them properly away, she walked into the club like she had done nothing all day but rest and get her toes painted.

"Hey queen, you lookin' good as usual." A young man remarked as Willow walked by.

"Thanks sweetie."

People greeted her like she was royalty. You would never know how much she did to keep that place going. She was much more than Hannibal's assistant. It was a lot of work, but she loved it. She didn't get really close with any of the entertainers or customers. She was always fair. And fine. Fine never hurts a woman. All of the women in her family were and none of them were ashamed to say it. 5'10", thick in all the right places, short short afro, skin black as licorice, slanted South African eyes and the whitest teeth anyone could have. All that and still tough as a whip.

One night one of the local homebosy weras in The Say and had the nerve to smack her on her butt as she walked by. She walked over to him with a beer bottle and cracked it on the table, cut his inner thigh through his jeans and walked away without saying a word. The show kept going like nothing happened.

DJ Stress was on stage spinning records and playing mostly hip-hop tunes. Eric B and RaKim, KRS-1, Queen LaTifa and others with clean cuts. Hannibal was serious about not having a record full of cursing. "That's not what my customers pay for. If they do...they mistake." He said.

Essence was the six-foot, caramel brown, sexy, sassy host of The Say and made her way up to the stage. When she got up there she gave the signal to Stress to cut the music. The Say was packed. There were waitresses bringing food, taking orders and having fun.

"Hey, y'all, hey, y'all. It's good to see everybody here and lookin' all good for me tonight." Essence perused the room and smiled. "So we gon' call this old school night since all my folks is here from back in the day." Essence was on stage being her usual funny self. "Hey, Raymond, you lookig kinda good tongiht. You get that divorce yet?" The crowd laughed as his wife gave him a big kiss. Stress spun the old school jams and the crowd cheered. Essence got back on stage. "Ok, brothas and sistas, it's time for our very very special guest. You've seen him on BET, Def comedy jam, HBO and all that. You've seen him in in the movies. He's one of our favorites here in The Say and across the nation. He's not just one of my favorite comedians, he is one of my favorite people. Y'all know who I'm talking about. Put your hands together and get ready to have the laugh of your life right now. That's right. Keep it coming, keep it coming. Ladies and gentlemen...my friend and yours...Life! Come on up here!"

Life never liked long introductions. They were too much pressure and he never felt that he deserved them and was scared that he couldn't live up to them. He came off like this confident guy but he is an entertainer, an actor. That's the job. A lot of people, when they got to know Life, told him that he was a different person on sage. "Well yeah." He once responded. "You show me an entertainer who is the same off stage as he is on sage and I'll show you an entertainer who is being on stage while he is off sage with you." Every introduction seemed to get longer and more intimadating. He started to think that the hosts enjoyed hearing themselves talk more than they were actually introducing him. Life thought about the spot out in Miami where he performed and the host spent so much time supposedly talkin' Life up, when it came time to call his name he forgot who he was bringin' up. 'Um...y'all know who Ah'm talkin' 'bout. Just give it up.' At that point, Life didn't even know who he was talking about anymore.

The crowd cheered and just before he went on stage Saundra surprised him with a big kiss. From their conversation earlier he thought she would miss the show altogether.

"Where you at?"

"Still working. I'll be here for another hour and I promised River I'd meet up with her for a minute. I'll head over to the club when I leave her. I'll be there before you go up."

"Alright."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I love you." Saundra said and he could her her smile through the phone.

"How you know?"

"Just made it up right now."

"You funny. Love you too."

Life ran on sage, grabbed the mic and freestyled to the old school rap beat. The crowd cheered and there were waving hands and bobbing heads all over the room. "Man, it feels good to be back in town. Of course I had to come and say what's up to my people at The Nikel." He didn't mention that the movie Baby Be Cool that he was in Dallas making was awful and was ashamed of the role he played in an already bad movie.

Why did he even agree to it? He kept asking himself. He felt that he had sold out some more to be accepted in the Hollywood game. What a trap. He was too old for all the drama. He was about to turn thrity and finally sick and tired of it. Even sick of rapping. He never thought he'd say that. At least the rapping that his label was inerested in producing. He was grown and had something to say. He just wasn't about what the new school radio hip-hop seemed to be about. Just sick of niggas, bitches, hos, fuckin', killin', bangin', shootin' and the other nonsense that blared from the radio stations. He wondered how a brotha who made his money like that was going to explain to his daughter or his niece or his son what "Bitch you aint shit but a ho and a trick" meant. "It's funny though, a lot of rappers spend half of their time calling other men punks and fags and the other half expressing how much they hate women. So who are you taking your shirts off and flexing for in the vidoes? Yeah, it's time for rap to become the voice in the community I remember." Those were the comments he made to a reporter at The Grand. When it printed his label called him and said that he needed to focus on making music and not try to be the "poster boy for the new positive rap image." Life was ready to leave the industry rap game alone. But what would he do if he left? He didn't have any real passion for acting. He worked hard on his music to get where he was. Since he was a kid he knew he had a talent for it. Nobody on his block, in his neighborhood, at his schookl, could out freestyle him. Like most kids he was taken by the beat. Rap was it. It was in his blood and he was determined to make it. Baby Be Cool was not scheduled to come out for another year. Life had some serious thinking to do. And what about Saundra?

"I wanna give a shout out to my Willow Tree!" Willow was in a corner with a clipboard talking to Essence and in her nonchalant sexy way, waved at him and continued her conversation. "And I gotta show special love to Ball." Hannibal as usual sat at a table in the center of the club with very exotic women. They were like the art he collected. One was tall with long brown hair and looked a lot like Naomi Campbell, another was Mexican with short spiky hair with no makeup except her bright red lipstick to match her red dress and shoes and the red rose that rested hehind her ear so cool like she was going to smoke it. Hannibal had an expensive cigar in his mouth that was never lit and a glass of gin livette he never drank. It took Life years to notice that. Always the cigar and the drink, but he never saw him smoke or drink. He smiled, noded and pointed his one of a kind hand crafted wooden cant at him.

"Y'all remember the old spot that Hannibal had downtown before The Nikel moved over here?" The crowd clapped. "That was the spot. That's where I got my srart in the entertainment business. Not just me, but many comedians and actors working on television and in the movies right now." Life saluted Hannibal as the crowd started clapping and then got quiet as Hannibal spoke.

Hannibal slowly held up his drink and spoke in a very thinck West Indian accent. "A time to plant, and a time to rise, see?" A few seconds of silence passed and the crowd laughed and made gestures like Hannibal was crazy. Crazy and genius. Crazy like Prince was crazy. Crazy like Bob Marley, Malcolm X and Nat Turner. Yeah, he was carzy all right.

Outside of The Say was a cafe. That was Life's favorite spot and the chicken sandwich with spicy curly fries was his usual order. That room was simply called The Room, but it was not a simple room. None of the rooms in The Nikel were. The bar was a piece of art in and of itself. It was handcrafted wood and there were African masks on the top and front of the bar and there were also masks on each stool. Being in an environment like that made everyone feel wealthy. Most of the customers weren't financially rich but for the time they were in the club, they sure felt like it. That was Hannibal's mission.

The place was packed and folks sat comfortably crowded around the bar. Charlie Towns sat next to Life and ordered a vodka straight up. He was a fifty-two year old blues singer from Memphis who used to sing a lot at The Nikel, the one in Inglewood and the one downtown and would tear the house up. There would not be a dry eye in the room when he got off stage. Life loved the blues. It reminded him of Sunday mornings when his mother would make him dance with her after breakfast and his father would dance with his sisters. Then they would switch and his mother and father dance with each other and they would laugh when they kissed. Funny thing to kiss over the blues.

Charlie was one of the greats and well known back in Memphis. He had toured with the greatest back in the day. He started singing the blues professionally when he was only ten years old and stopped singing back in ninety-four when his wife and twin teenage daughters were killed by a drunk driver. They were on the 10 freeway one night and a car rear ended them. The car rolled off the freeway and blew up. He said that he just couldn't sing the blues anymore once he really had something to cry about. He still loved coming down to the club though. It gave him some happiness giving advice to the youngsters and being around good folks.

"What's up with your new cd?" He saw Life's shoulders and head slightly drop. "Hey, I didn't mean any harm. I'm just a curious fan." Charlie said. But those kinds of questions always made Life uncomfortable. As uncomfortable as it did hearing Charlie calling himself a fan of his.

"I'm in the studio." Which was true. Life just didn't go into the part about thr label being "unsatisfied" with all of his material. Like they would know good rap if they heard it. Good music didn't matter to them. Not to good ole Player Records. They cared about the numbers. The marketing. What kind of box they could fit him. They couldn't fit him in one. That was the problem.

"I'm waiting on your new stuff. You really got somethin' there."

"Thank you, Sir."

Saundra walked up to him and kissed him on the back on of his head. "Hey Baby, you looked good up there."

"Thank you, Baby." He whispered in her ear and put his arm around her waist. "Let's get out of here." She wanted to go to Solomon's, which was a late night spot in Hollywood that evryone went to after clubs. Life didn't want to go.

Solomon's was packed. Talk about Hollywood. On any given night you could run into any given movie or television or porn star or pro ball player, plastic surgeon or whatever type star you were looking for, or not looking for. The food was just ok and the menues were too long.

Life had to laugh at himself about how badly he always criticized Solomon's for beiing so Hollywood and he and Saundra hadn't been seated ten minutes and he had already signed two autographs for women who were clearly from out of town. That was refreshing though. People from L.A., Life noticed, were too jaded to ask for an autograph or picture or even give a handshake. They all had that no big deal attitude about things. Especially things that they considered a big deal.

Life was in Tower Records one evening and noticed Michael Jackon's Off the Wall album. He hadn't bought a record in years. As he was thinking about buying it for old times sake, who shold walk in but Michael Jackson himself! As much as he didn't want to do it, how do you not have Michael Jackson sign your Off the Wall record? He kept telling himself that it would realy be worth some money. That's what gave him the juice to go over to the mega star "Excuse me, Mr. Jackson."

When the waitress approached the table, Saundra ordered first. "Ummm, chicken quesadilla with a glass of white wine for me, please."

"A pastrami sandwich for me with a Heineken." And the model thin waitress was off.

"Admit it, Buster. You like it."

"Like what?"

"Folks asking you for autographs and wanting to take their picture with you and the waitress batting her eyes at you."

"She batted her eyes at me?" He really hadn't noticed that. Contrary to what Saundra thought, he was very slow at picking up on those things. "Maybe you're just seeng things. Are you jealous?"

"I'm not seeing things, Love. And no, I'm not jealous. I like it. People should be checking you out. Why do you think we're here?"

"Because you wanted some chicken quesadillas and a glass of white wine?"

"Chicken quesadillas that I couldn't make at home?"

That's right, Life remembered. Saundra's was the one woman's cooking he could write home about.

"Baby, if we left it up to you, you would go to your show and come straight home or go back to the hotel every night."

"Your man does what? He does his job and goes straight home to his woman? What are you still doing with him?"

"Ha, ha, okay. Of course I appreciate that. My concern regarding you is not that you will cheat on me. I mean, there's nothing I can do to stop you anyway. My concern is that you used to hang out before we got together. Besides, it's good for business for people to see you hangin' out. Fot the millionth time, people like you for more than your jokes, your acting, rappin'."

"You sayin' you don't think I'm funny?"

"Stop making jokes when I'm being serious with you. Of coruse you're funny. But being a rapper or comedian is not like being a French poet or a classical pianist where the fans adore how exclusive and untouchable you are. Black folks like to touch our stars, take pictures with them, eat next to them at Solomon's every now and then."

"You love me don't you, Baby."

"Not really, I just didn't feel like cooking tonight."