"So the first time he told her he loved her was also the same time he asked her to marry him?" Lance asked, wanting to make sure he got the story right. JC had left the room only a few minutes ago and Justin was long gone but he, Joey and Chris were still in the big entertainment room they had been in for the majority of the afternoon. The power had chugged back on and the air conditioner was running comfortably now. Joey sat on the floor and Chris lounged on a chair, loose and probably drunk. They had consumed a 12 pack of beer between them with JC only taking one and not finishing it. JC stayed long enough to tell them about his proposal to Laura and then he left, claiming to be tired, before they could asked him what happened during his private meeting with Johnny.
"That's what he said," Joey said. He patted his chest and burped loudly. Lance cringed and made a disgusted face. "Excuse me!" Joey slid his eyes over to Lance. "Well, at least I'm polite about it!"
"You are not excused," Lance said.
"Good one, Joe!" Chris exclaimed. His response was delayed and Lance and Joey had no idea what he was talking about.
"It just seems so strange," Lance continued. "Why would he do that?"
"He loves her!" Joey said.
"What do you know about that, Joey?" Lance said, kind of snidely.
"What do I know about love?" Joey touched his chest and pretended to be shocked. "Chris, Lance is asking me-- ME!-- what I know about love?"
"Why you asking that?" Chris slurred.
"What do I know about love?" Joey rose to his feet, standing over Lance who was sitting on the couch. "I know plenty about love."
"Preach it Joey!" Chris added. "Hallelujah !"
"I know about love, Lance. I know about love. I know what it's like to look at a woman and put you hands on her face and say, baby I love you. I want to be with you always."
"And then you fuck," Chris said.
"And then you fuck," Joey said with a laugh. "So yes, Lance. I know love. I love love. Smacking the booty. That's love. Taking her from behind. That's love. Pushing her head down."
"That's love!" Chris crowed.
"That's love!" Joey began air humping some imaginary woman in various positions. Lance groaned and pulled a pillow over his face, sinking down lower on the couch. Joey continued dancing and bucking his hips around the room. Chris clapped a lazy rhythm chanting, "Then you fuck. Because that's love. Then you fuck. That's love, that's love!"
Wade walked in on their little jam session.
"Hey, so we're ready to practice after all!" Wade said.
"It's the dance nazi, take cover!" Chris rolled off the couch and hit the floor with a thud. Wade winced.
"What are you guys doing?"
"We're in here because JC is getting married," Lance said clearly.
"Yeah, I know," Wade sighed, wearily. "I was in the room. Watching the same TV you guys were. I saw the same MTV News report. JC Chasez Engaged! I was there."
"Oh yeah," Lance said.
"Why do you guys always forget me?" Wade asked.
"You're forgettable, you boring ho!" Chris cackled from the floor. Wade pointed towards Chris with a strange look on his face.
"He's drunk," Lance explained.
"Wonderful." Wade rolled his eyes. "Guys look. I have ideas. I have them in my head. You know that one verse... in 'Game is Over'? Well I was thinking if we went two by two--"
"Write it down!" Joey interrupted .
"I can't write it down," Wade said. "I have to see. I have to dance it. I have to see you guys dance it. And I have to walk around and watch and feel the beat." Wade began walking around in that creepy stalking way he did whenever they were practicing. Lance made a face, suddenly kind of glad that Joey and Chris and JC and Justin were out of it. He didn't really feel like dancing with Wade today. Not when Wade was crazy like this and they ended up doing some weird dance moves, like flapping their arms or skipping in place.
"I think we all need some time to think," Lance said carefully. "This really does affect the group."
"How so?" Chris asked.
"Well... JC is interrupting this bond we have with out fans." Lance explained.
"What?" Chris crossed his eyes and then got back on his chair.
"Like the fantasy. That we're... the perfect guys for them."
"Fuck that! 13 year olds are delusional." Joey laughed. "If anything, this will get us more sales. The girls will think they can turn JC around. Like, be the other woman. The home wrecker! This is great! He'll be getting more ass than ever."
"You're so right," Wade said, shaking a hand at Lance in a dance-y way. Lance wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing that Wade agreed with him. "That's what boybands are. The ultimate boyfriends. You guys are just so... cuddley and sparkley . You can't be that way if you're married."
"Yeah, sort of like that." Lance sighed though because it was sad when Wade was the only one who understood you.
"That's asinine!" Chris yelled. Then he giggled and covered his face with his hands.
"I can't talk to you people right now," Wade said gravely. Lance was thinking the same thing. He got off the couch once Wade stopped stalking around.
"I know someone we can talk to," Lance said.
"Who?" Wade asked.
"Johnny," Lance answered. "JC never told us what went on behind closed doors. We'd better know the conversation in case it affects the schedule we're on for the tour."
"Good idea, Lance," Wade agreed. "You're always full of good ideas."
"We'll see you two later," Lance said. He was happy to leave the room. He wanted a breath of fresh air and sanity.
"So what do you think, Chris?" Joey asked. "Did JC really screw himself over this time?"
Chris chortled. He laughed really really hard. Finally he gasped out, "Oh hell yeah!"
* * *
"Don't say a word."
Justin was looking at a shotgun. He had seen them before. But they were never this close. He could see straight up the hole where the bullet came out. A thick, hard, metal, fast moving bullet. Straight for his face. He could see it. He closed his eyes. He could practically even smell it. He thought that if he reached his tounge out he would be able to taste it. A gun. A shotgun. What a way to go. What a way to die. His life didn't even flash before his eyes. There was no big sound. There was nothing. He almost felt relieved.
Then he realized that he didn't feel anything because nothing had happened. He opened his eyes. The man was still staring at him. He was an old black man with many wrinkles and coal black skin, short gray hair and his eyes were an unreal shade of amber. Justin couldn't look away. Those red-brownish eyes. How could someone have eyes the same color as that stuff that rolled down the bark of pine trees so thickly? How was that possible?
"I don't know why you on my land. I don't know what you want. But you be moving on now. You ain't taking nothing of mine. Not anymore! Hands up, white boy. I wanna see your hands!"
Justin lifted his hands, shifting painfully on his hurt ankle. His heart was thudding so painfully that tears were stinging the bottom of his eyes. He tried to keep his chin steady.
"You got one second to explain yo'self. Are you from the gov'ment? Well I ain't selling and I ain't giving up my land. This is my land! You won't have it. Talk boy, you got one second! This is your only chance. I don't like the answer, you won't like my actions. See, this is my land and what happens here stays here."
"Oh please," Justin begged. "I don't know where I am. I'm not doing anything. I didn't mean to. I didn't know this was your land. I'm just so thirsty . I hurt myself running--"
The gun cocked and Justin froze.
"I think I've had just enough out of you," the old man said. Justin started to pray.
"Grandpa!" He heard a voice cry out. He didn't move. Footsteps came closer, rushing. "Grandpa, what are you doing?"
"Intruder, Kashia, stay back!" the old man demanded.
"Grandpa!" The girl-- Kashia-- came closer. She grabbed the gun. Just like that. She pulled the gun out of Justin's face. He was relieved and horrified at the same time. "Grandpa, you just can't do that to people."
"Yes I can," Grandpa was still glaring at Justin. "This is my property and I can do whatever I want. This is my land."
"Grandpa..." Kashia sighed and then she caught Justin's eye. He flinched. Her eyes were the same as the old man's. That amber brown, light reddish brown. So unusual. Her skin was dark coffee colored, wild curls sticking up from her head in almost the same style as the 'fro Justin wore a few months back, only her hair was thicker and richer, higher and reaching up towards the sky. She looked to be around his age. Justin was scared to breathe. He didn't know what was going on. He just wanted to leave.
"I don't think he's doing anything wrong, Grandpa." Kashia said, still looking at Justin.
"He's on my land without my permission," Grandpa said. "That's wrong."
"What's your name?" Kashia asked.
Justin didn't think he was able to talk. But then he did. "Justin."
"Justin," Kashia repeated. "You look familiar."
"You've probably seen me before," Justin stammered.
"What are you doing here?" He saw Kashia's gaze travel down his body. He knew she saw his bloody knees. Maybe she even noticed his swelling ankle.
"I was running and I fell. I was going to the stream..." He would have pointed but he was too scared to move. Grandpa was still holding the gun, but Kashia had a firm grasp on the barrel. "I didn't know this was private property. I swear. I'm not from around here--"
"What are you doing running?" Kashia interrupted. "In this heat? You running away from something?"
Justin realized, quite suddenly, that he had been running away from something. But he shook his head.
"Just going for a run," he said through his cracked lips.
"Let him go, Grandpa. He's harmless. Look, he's hurt." She pointed down to Justin's knees. "He's bleeding."
Grandpa did lower his gun but he didn't stop staring at Justin with that same, level, serious gaze. That suspicious look.
"I can tell that you're not from around here," Kashia said. "It's pretty obvious. We don't see too many tourist down this way. They stay up on Bourbon street."
"Well, I'm not exactly a tourist," Justin explained. "I'm staying up... in a manision. It's about three miles away."
"The Pinsler place," Kashia said, looking at her Grandpa. There was a sudden understanding in her eyes. She offered her hand to Justin. "Look, the house is this way. Why don't I help you out? Can you walk on that?" She gestured towards the ankle.
"Yeah, I'll be okay," Justin said, sounding more confident than he actually was. Kashia kept her hand extended, still. After a moment, he took it.
"We're going to the house, Grandpa," Kashia announced.
"If you give my granddaughter one bit of trouble, I'll be there faster than the wind, white boy," Grandpa promised.
"Ignore him," Kashia leaned over and whispered. "You're safe. Come on."
Justin felt strange holding this stranger's hand. Then it became absolutely necessary. They were going up a hill and the pain when he put his ankle down was so excruciating by the time they made it to the house that he thought he might pass out or something. The house was a very modest one. It was small, just one story. It reminded Justin of the house he used to share with his mom when he was a kid back in Millington. There was a screened in porch, a sunroom, just on the inside of the back door of the house. Kashia had him sit there, in a hard plastic chair that was up against the back wall.
"I'll get you some water," Kashia said. "Put your foot up." She grabbed Justin's calf firmly and placed it on the coffee table. He winced in pain after she left and leaned over to rub his ankle but found it was so tender, he couldn't even touch it. He leaned back, wondering how his day got so screwed up so quickly. How was he supposed to dance on this ankle? Wade was right. They still had practicing to do whether JC was engaged or not.
"Here," Kashia said, returning with a glass of water. As soon as Justin tasted it, he could tell it was from the tap. It had sort of a rusty aftertaste. He couldn't remember the last time he drank tap water. His water was usually from springs in the Alps and then packaged in plastic bottles. But before he could be more of a snob about it, he had finished the whole glass.
"Slow down, don't get a stomach ache," Kashia wasn't looking at him. She had band aids, Bactine and guaze in her hands.
"Thank you," Justin said.
"Yeah, you're welcome. Here." She handed him the first aid stuff. "That's for your knees. What did you do?"
"I just fell."
"Did you pass out? It's so hot. Even I'm saying it's so hot. And I've lived here my whole life."
"No, I just fell. I tripped."
Kashia gazed at him thoughtfully. "Justin." She paused. He expected her to go on but she didn't. She left the room. Justin looked at his materials. Then he squeezed some Bactine on the gauze and carefully cleaned the cuts on his knee, wincing as the Bactine mixed with the blood and stung inside the wound something horrible. Once the antibacterial liquid had dried, he placed the bandaids over his knees. It was kind of dumb to put band aids on your knees but Justin felt better once they were on. Then he sat back and waited for something to happen, for Kashia to come back. But nothing was happening. He didn't see her Grandpa and he didn't see Kashia. He looked out of the screens that surrounded the room, into the backyard. There was a lot of land, a lot of grass that looked green and beautifully kept. The trees were thick towards the end of the lawn, where the stream was. He bet there was something beyond. A swamp or something. He had to admit that this side of New Orleans was totally beautiful.
"You doing alright?" Kashia appeared out of nowhere and Justin started in his chair. He had been staring so intently out into the backyard that he didn't even notice her approach. She refilled Justin's glass from a pitcher of water.
"Thank you so much," Justin said, picking up the glass. "I don't even know what to say."
"Your ankle looks messed up," Kashia said. She knelt down beside his leg and the coffee table. Then she looked up at him. "My name is Kashia by the way."
"I know," Justin said. Then he realized that sounded creepy. "I mean, I heard... your Grandpa call you that. I figured it was your name."
"Oh," Kashia stared at his ankle. "This is going to hurt."
She unlaced his shoelaces. She was right. It did hurt. Justin winced and squirmed but he wasn't going to make a sound. Not in front of her.
"It's swollen and it needs room," Kashia explained.
"I know," Justin grunted. He was trying to keep himself together.
"Justin, why do I know you?" Kashia was carefully working his shoe off of his foot now. He closed his eyes, sat back in the chair, arched his back a little, bit his lip hard. He wondered why he was letting this stranger perform first aid on him, especially after her grandfather nearly killed him. But it was too late for those questions. If she was going to break his ankle, she missed her chance. She had his shoe off and placed it gently on the floor.
"I don't know," Justin said, staring up at the ceiling. She rolled his sock down, carefully, but it still hurt like a bitch.
"You're lying," Kashia said.
"I'm in a band. I'm a singer."
"Oh," He looked up in time to see Kashia searching his face. "A famous one."
"Yes."
"I see," Kashia said. She had a jar with her. It looked like it was filled with green petroleum jelly. She unscrewed the top. "You'll like this, I promise."
"What is it?"
"Ask questions later," Kashia said. She scooped out a generous portion of the green jelly and smeared it all over his ankle. It smelled strongly like menthol and he wasn't sure if he liked that smell. He covered his mouth, coughing some. Kashia slathered even more on.
"Nsync," Kashia said after she had covered Justin's ankle in the goop. "I was waiting for you to tell me."
"So you know?" Justin asked, dumbly.
"I was wondering if you would be straight with me." Kashia sat back on her haunches and shrugged. "Guess not. How's it feel?"
All of a sudden, Justin felt bad. He should have just told the truth, not pretended like he didn't know where he was from, who he was. But he thought that Kashia honestly didn't have a clue. She was from the backwoods of Louisiana, it wouldn't surprise him if she had never heard of Nsync before. But she had. Everyone had. For once in his life, Justin didn't want to be Justin Timberlake From Nsync. Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.
"How's it feel? Your ankle?" Kashia repeated, pulling Justin back from his thoughts.
"What?" Justin looked down at his ankle and gasped in surprised when he realized he had forgot about it hurting. It wasn't hurting anymore and he had actually forgotten that he ever hurt it. He stood up, cautiously. Nothing. He leaned all the way over to the right. His ankle was fine. He hopped up and down on one foot.
Whoa.
"What did you do?" Justin asked. He looked at Kashia in amazement. "It feels fine. It's like I didn't even hurt it."
"That's a temporary fix, so be careful," Kashia said. "It should get you back to your... band. And you can have a doctor look at it."
"What is it?" Justin asked excitedly. "Do you know what you have here? This is incredible!"
Kashia shook her head, standing up. "Maybe I can help you find your way back. I know where the Pinsler place is."
"Seriously, though. Kashia." Her name sounded strange coming from his lips. "Thank you so much. But what is this?"
"That's for me to know," Kashia said. She wasn't mean or anything. She just said it a matter of factly.
"This is so..." Justin trailed off, looking at his foot. He couldn't quite believe it.
"We do things differently down here," an old, gravely voice said. Justin looked over to the side and saw Grandpa staring at him. But without the gun this time.
"Thank you, sir," Justin said. "I'm sorry I was trespassing. I'm leaving now. Kashia..." He looked over at Kashia who stood there, casually. "She gave me this incredible..." He looked at Grandpa. "Uh, I don't even know what it is. But it works."
"It's that magic your kind doesn't know about," Grandpa said.
"Grandpa, please!" Kashia sounded exasperated. "I'm gonna give Justin a ride back, okay. You'll be okay without me for a few minutes."
"I'll be okay," Grandpa said hotly. He jabbed a knotted finger at Justin. "Seems he won't be okay. She got a spell on him."
Justin stood there. He didn't quite want to breathe.
"Grandpa!" Kashia's voice was sharp now. "Stop it."
"She got the spell on him," Grandpa repeated. "On him. You'd better watch out. The voodoo. It get you to."
Maybe Kashia protested some more, told her grandfather to stop talking, but Justin didn't hear. He was lost in his own thoughts, were everything was clicking, falling into place, making new connections, coming to a new understanding, a new possibility.
Maybe the whole proposal wasn't JC's fault, his decision.
What if there was something else involved?
A little voodoo. Magic.
Justin looked down at his ankle, still pain free, moving easily on it's own.
"Come on, Justin, let's go," Kashia said. Justin started forward , a little jaunty bounce in his step.
He was going to find out.
Number of reviews: 18
Print:
Chapter or Story