I was 15 when daddy caught the two of us in bed. I was supposed to be washing dishes but instead I had the boom box blasting the Purple Rain cassette tape in the front of the house, while Tread was serenading me and simultaneously trying to keep my attention off the fact that he was having trouble getting it hard.
I didn’t hear daddy’s truck come up the hill. When Doves Cry had just started and Tread was lying beside me apologizing for not being able to do it. I turned on my side and told him, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t really wanna have sex, just let’s cuddle okay.” His look said he didn’t believe me, but he put his arm around me anyway. I was just about to tell him I wouldn’t tell anybody, when my bedroom door burst wide open and the smell of stale Winstons and chicken feed filled the room.
There stood my daddy, all 5’11″ of his dark sinewy frame staring down on the two of us buck naked on the bed, wrapped up in each others arms. I’m not sure what happened first but everything happened lightening fast. Tread was out of the bed and out the backdoor before my daddy finished shouting, “Boy if you don’t get the hell outta my house.” I had jumped up and was just standing there naked, sorta proud, sorta scared, when daddy told me, “Put some clothes on and get your slutty ass in the kitchen and wash the damn dishes.” Shit, Tread had promised me a ride on the Honda and now I knew that was NEVER going to happen.
The Honda was parked right outside my window and with the backdoor right there in my room, I could see Tread standing there staring. I don’t know if he was making sure I was gonna be okay cause my daddy looked mad enough to kill me or if he was just in shock. Daddy yelled at him again, “Get the hell on now boy,” before turning abruptly and leaving the room. I watched Tread put on his helmet and knock the Honda off the kick stand. He looked back, real forlorn like and mumbled something about calling me later.
I turned away as he started pushing the Honda and finished getting dressed, waiting for the whine of the Honda engine. As soon as I heard the engine, I started up the hall to the kitchen. I sighed as I heard tires spinning on the hot asphalt at the bottom of the hill. I reached across the stove, to the back burner, grabbed the tin kettle which had been simmering on low heat for almost an hour. I poured the scalding hot water into the dishpan, and plunged my hands into it’s sudsy depths. I washed all the damn dishes.
Tread definitely left his mark in many ways that day. He left his physical mark, an almost perfect circle at the base of my driveway. He left a psychological mark on my esteem. But, mostly, he taught me a profitable lesson. A lesson which would alter the next 8 years of my life.
The lesson – Get your payment up front. Always.
