Indigo's Boyfriend.

Indigo Skye
I hung up the phone on Tallulah and began to swipe at the screen to search my notes, keeping her thoughts about my boyfriend pushed to the back of the brain. He was nothing like she described nor has she truly met him so I wasn’t worried.
Bringing my feet into an Indian style fold on my dark green couch, I scratched at my tired cornrows. Nothing but a basic bleached stained black shirt on with black socks that stretched beyond my ankles, I looked up out my back patio, seeing the plants draping and the vines collecting around the glass. Clouds were a gloomy dark grey, sitting heavy in the sky like I could smell the rain coming.
Rain always washes away the old and the sun ushers in the new. Changes were happening. A shift was about to occur.
I could hear my boyfriend Micah moving around in the kitchen having made himself a little too comfortable in my place for the past few days but luckily this was his last night before he had to go back to work in the morning. As much as I enjoyed having him here, and as much as I enjoyed finally having sex. Good sex at that, it was time for him to get the hell on and thankfully, he was just as anal about his personal space as I. He was ready to get back home.
“Tell em to come fuck with us then at the kickback. I’ll have something for him,” he said suddenly as I listened. “Nah I can’t take nobody right now but I’ll be home tomorrow… I don’t care how much he paying. I’m not seeing nobody until tomorrow. I’m not bringing no nigga to my girl’s house or around it.”
My brows came together as I listened before getting up to slide the glass door open to my patio. I was on the main level of my apartment with nothing but woods facing me. My apartment building was in the cut of the complex and with little to no children or teens in my unit, it was relatively quiet. No banging or footsteps that were too obnoxious and the music ceased after a reasonable hour.
My earth altar that sat in the corner of the balcony was flourishing despite the lack of light as I sat down before it and adjusted the colorful crystals planted in the soil. The green plants and black buddha that took the shape of a black woman with a fro and her fingers pinched together in a meditative state. A mason jar that collected rain water, oils I made myself and the brightly colored green leaves that began to spread out like open palms nearly covered my small mirror, reflecting everything back to me. Whenever the sun was out, it would hit just right against my altar causing Ms. Buddha to shift her pose, shake her fro free, maybe stretch a leg or two before becoming stone cold once more. Right now, she couldn’t be bothered, especially with a guest in the house that she wasn’t too fond of. Being a dreamcatcher meant anything and everything could be alive at any given moment when you breathe life into it. Our power, our magic and spirituality relied on our mind, and imagination alone. No Gods or higher power. Our highest form of self is whatever we decide it to be, and we were naturally born to know and understand the spiritual laws of the universe.
“Ms. Buddha I’ll be needing a favor from you soon,” was all I said as her elongated neck and graceful sitting pose remained still in the bronze frame, but I noticed the small movement of her pointed nose and full lips twitch in response.
“Yuh,” Micah’s voice came through as I looked back, watching him slide the door open as he stepped out with his hairy legs and bare feet holding a plate full of spaghetti, the only thing he knew how to make with garlic toasted bread on the side. Obviously, he wasn’t the pasty white boy Tallulah seemed to attract nor was he the corporate pretty boy like my cousin Homer, and his friends. Micah rubbed his low fade with his nails digging into his scalp before drawing that same hand down his face against his makeshift goatee trying to grow. Brown complexion, just in the middle of light and dark, his face was rough with small tattoos under his eyes and corner of his temples. Dark, almost black eyes were about as sharp as Delilah’s but not as conniving, and small curls of chest hair that never grew past peach fuzz, he stepped over towards the railing in his low hanging basketball shorts. Micah wasn’t overly tall or too short. Just about the average height for a guy in Atlanta, but his smile was his best feature. Smile and his laughter, and the fact that at this exact moment, I could still smell me on him from an hour or so before. Just like a dog to sit and let after sex soak skin while I was quick to take a shower, but he loved it.
“He with you right now?” he asked, still on the phone as I took my first hesitant bite of his meal before nodding. “Put him on the phone so I can hear what he got to say."
There was a pause as I sat up to eat in the chair while Micah looked over the railing at the woods before reaching up with both arms to step over the patio with a small jump to the grass.
“Yeah I’m here. How did you hear about me?” he asked as I listened with a mouth full, watching him reach into his shorts with his legs already cocked open in position, “who? At the Underground? You met him at the Underground and he put you on to me?"
Micah’s hips leaned forward as I watched the clear stream aim, and shoot into the grass. I could just imagine my neighbors looking out their window to see a man take a piss in the back of the building every morning and night but nobody has said a word so far, and I didn't mind. I knew what it meant for him to do that. Even if it was some old animalistic like nonsense that only totems like him believed.