You've been
Missin'
Out on all the chances you've been given
Is it something
Within
Holding you back instead of living
Your day is coming though it seems far
Things will be clear when you love who you are
Nothin' can stop you as long as you listen to your heart
Lift your head to the sky
And keep tryin'
Believe in you
And it will take you higher…
Groove Theory – "Keep Tryin'"
N'Jobu couldn't breathe.
His father was telling him the unthinkable.
"Where is T'Chaka?"
"N'Jobu—"
"Baba, where is he?"
"He is in his quarters."
"And the baby? T'Challa, is he…?"
"Bast has blessed us with his life."
"I don't understand. How can she be dead?"
Dear sweet Bathwandwa, who waited her whole life to have this child with his brother. His loving sister who he had just sung to before his return to the States. How could she die giving birth?
"My son, we have sent the Royal Scorpion Fighter to bring you home. It should be there by now."
"I feel it outside, Baba."
"Come home. Your family needs you."
"I will, Baba."
Their communication ended, N'Jobu didn't bother to pack anything. He changed into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt with his sneakers. Grabbing his cell phone, he called Califia.
"Hey," she said.
"I have to go home—"
"What? Did the baby come?"
"My sister-in-law…she didn't make it. She died while having the baby."
"Oh my God, N'Jobu! Wait…let me take you to the airport—"
"No, you stay with your grandmother. I'll get a ride to the airport. I don't know how long I'll be gone…a week maybe…I'll call you when I get there. I just got the call, my brother-"
"You don't have to explain. Just go, okay? Call me when you can. I'm so sorry, N'Jobu…"
N'Jobu felt his body shaking. He wished she was there with him, or that he could take her. He drew in a deep inhale, and when he exhaled he tried to think of all the tips he learned from Dr. Davis on how to bring down high stress. Breathing deep was the main one. Breathe deep and focus on one positive thing.
He thought of Califia's face, the look she had earlier when she was able to beat him with the stick fighting. The joy on her face when he picked her up and kissed her cheeks. Her joy. He concentrated on that and then he was able to bring down his heart rate. He was able to stop the shaking.
"N'Jobu?"
"Yes?"
"I'll pray for your family. Please give them my condolences, especially your brother. This is so awful, baby. I'm so sorry."
"Keep up with your practice and don't forget to get your paper done before Friday. You know how you procrastinate when I'm not looking at you-"
"Don't worry about me. Go to your family. I love you, and be safe."
"Tell me that again," he said, his voice finally cracking, his chest heaving.
"I'm coming over there—"
"No, don't. It's late. Just…I need to hear you say that to me again, please."
"I love you…so much. I'd give you a giant hug and kiss if I were there right now."
He closed his eyes and let his cell hang by his cheek. She was his touchstone. He needed her strength more than ever. He moved the phone back up to his ear.
"I'm heading out now. I can catch a red-eye. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Be there for your family. I'm not going anywhere. Hear me?"
"Yes."
"Talk soon, yeah?"
"Yes."
When he finally let her go, he felt that he was able to walk out onto the balcony with a clear head. He felt the multi-spectral camouflage shield surround him, and once he was encapsulated within it, he was able to see the Royal Scorpion Fighter hovering above his apartment, and the entrance ramp waiting for him on the edge of the balcony itself. A young lieutenant was standing at the entrance. When the young man saw N'Jobu's face, he bowed his head.
"A comfort for your loss, your Highness. We all mourn with you."
N'Jobu nodded. Inside the Royal Scorpion, three officers from the Special Forces Unit bowed to him. N'Jobu threw himself on the wide passenger couch and wept quietly like he was a child again.
###
It was night when he arrived at the palace. His father and council elder Kholiwe met him at the Grand Entrance after he departed from the Royal Scorpion Fighter.
He hugged his father long and hard. The older King's eyes were red, and the bags under his eyes were heavy. There was no sleep for this family. Not tonight.
"This will be one of your brother's greatest challenges, N'Jobu. Besides Bathwandwa, you are his light, my son. He is inconsolable. Your mother is with the baby," King Azzuri said.
"Can I see Bathwandwa first, Baba?"
"Son, you don't want to do that right now—"
"I need to see her. Baba, please."
Kholiwe leaned on her ornate cane.
"Come this way, your Highness," she said. N'Jobu held the older woman's arm as she led him inside and down a long corridor into a North wing where they were joined by Ometeko and Yejide. They took an elevator up several floors to the sunroom, one of Bathwandwa's favorite places.
Kholiwe sat on a divan that was sitting near the entrance. King Azzuri sat next to Kholiwe.
"We will wait for you here," his father said.
"No need. I will go up to see Umama and T'Chaka when I am done," N'Jobu said.
Ometeko and Yejide placed themselves in front of the entrance.
When his father and Kholiwe left, N'Jobu braced himself and walked into the room.
Bathwandwa was laid to rest out in the open, not inside a casket, but lying on a bed of soft blue flower petals. She was wearing the lovely dress that she wore for T'Chaka's coronation. Her hair was braided and twisted into a soft bun on top of her head with loose strands draping her shoulders.
A deep slumber. That's how she looked. She was simply taking a short nap to rest before feeding her baby. N'Jobu stepped closer and when his hips hit the table she was on, he touched her hand. Cold. Winter cold. Her puffy round belly was gone, her hands crossed over her stomach as if she had never carried a child for nine months.
"Bathwandwa…" he whispered.
His shoulders shook a little and then he was laying his face on her hands, kissing her fingers.
"How is our T'Chaka going to live without you, Sister?" he whispered, "We will take good care of T'Challa. No need for you to worry."
"Baby Brother—"
N'Jobu turned his head and saw T'Chaka in pale mourning robes.
N'Jobu stood up and both brothers raced toward each other, their embrace a thunderous clap in the room.
"She is gone. She left us. What am I to do? I cannot live without her. How am I supposed to live?" T'Chaka cried into N'Jobu's ear.
"You have to live for your son. And you have to live for our people." N'Jobu said, pulling his brother away from him and staring him directly in his face.
"You shall weep and gnash your teeth, but you will not wallow in pity. Bathwandwa expects her man to be the King she knows he can be, and also the father she expects for her son."
T'Chaka's face was wet from continuous tears, but he was shaking his head. N'Jobu knew his brother could spiral into despair easily, he did so a lot when they were growing up. The best way to snap him out of staying down for too long was to remind him of his calling. He could cry, weep and moan for days and years to come, but he still had to raise a child and hold up a nation.
"I am so glad you are here," T'Chaka said, his tears slowing down, "this has been hell. This has been hell."
N'Jobu hugged him again, and then they both turned to look back at Bathwandwa.
"Look at my beautiful wife. My Queen. The mother of my son. Bast has not been kind to me."
"What happened?" N'Jobu finally asked.
"They tell me she hemorrhaged. They were unable to catch it in time after T'Challa came out. I was holding her hand and she slipped away from me."
"I am sorry, Brother."
"She loved you so much, N'Jobu. She said you were her favorite royal because you did not take yourself so seriously. When her labor started, she said she could not wait for you to see how regular T'Challa's head was going to be. She could not wait to tease you about your own children someday."
"Silly girl. I bet his head is big, isn't it?" N'Jobu teased. T'Chaka burst out laughing and then his tears flowed again. He looked down at his wife.
"My love, I am going to show this scoundrel our beautiful child."
T'Chaka's tears rolled off of him and landed on Bathwandwa's dress.
"I feel so lost!"
N'Jobu threw his arm around his brother's shoulder.
"She is still with us. In our hearts. Come, introduce me to my nephew. Let her rest for now. We can come back later. Yes?"
T'Chaka wiped his face and leaned into N'Jobu.
N'Jobu guided his brother out of the sunroom.
Ometeko and Yejide followed a polite distance behind them.
###
His Umama, Queen Mother Niyilolawa, sat in a richly brocaded rocking chair. Her royal robes were a rich saffron, her favorite color. It brightened up the room in such a gloomy time. In her arms she cuddled a tiny body wrapped in yellow swaddling cloth, a little brown bald head peeked out. His mother pulled a bottle from T'Challa's mouth and handed it to one of her two attendants standing nearby.
"N'Jobu, come see him," she said holding out her hand. He clasped his mother's fingers in his own and got down on one knee. He kissed her cheek. Her face looked weary, the whites of her eyes pink from crying, but she gave him the warmest smile.
"He is perfect. Here. T'Challa, look…it is your Uncle N'Jobu."
T'Challa's tiny brown fists pumped in the air, and N'Jobu was a bit nervous handling something so small. He stood up with the baby in his hands. He pressed him closer to his chest supporting the newborn's neck. T'Challa's eyes were closed, but his small lips were wide open and making sucking motions. He squirmed in N'Jobu's arms until his Uncle spoke to him.
"Hello there, Nephew. We meet again. This time outside. What a way to come into the world, eh little one? You will have so much love around you. I promise."
N'Jobu stuck his nose close to T'Challa's face.
"He has that sweet baby smell, Umama."
His mother beamed. He was pleased to see a proud smile on her face.
N'Jobu walked around the nursery room a bit with T'Challa, rocking him gently. T'Chaka moved to stand next to him.
"Mother Moon comes down from the heavens to see the new little one…"
N'Jobu's singing voice was sweet-sounding in the room. The acoustics were good. His mother clutched at her chest, and her eyes welled up, but N'Jobu smiled at her and kept singing to T'Challa.
T'Chaka leaned in, his shoulder touching N'Jobu's as he joined in with the singing, his voice strong and clear.
T'Challa's balled up fists relaxed and his tiny eyes opened up. His mouth still gaped open and closed like a fish out of water, but his hazy eyes tried to focus on where the voices were coming from.
"Lullaby, little one, the world is at your feet…."
They only sang a few stanzas before their mother rose from the rocker and took the baby from them.
"Go rest, both of you. We will take care of T'Challa," she said.
N'Jobu kissed her forehead, and T'Chaka kissed her cheek, and they both walked out of the nursery. N'Jobu held his brother's hand as they made their way towards their respective suites. When N'Jobu was frightened as a child, he used to clasp his brother's hand, and T'Chaka would guide him to check that there were no monsters in his closet or strange beings under his bed. It would calm his fears about what could be up ahead of them in the dark spooky corners of the palace. Holding T'Chaka's hand now, it was he, N'Jobu, who would chase away the scary things that frightened T'Chaka.
"Thank you for getting here so quickly," T'Chaka said.
"Luckily the Scorpion had reconnaissance flights not too far from me."
They made their way to a private elevator that would take T'Chaka to his new King's Quarters.
"She was my everything."
"I know."
N'Jobu could feel his brother struggling. He was a wreck.
N'Jobu focused on being a mountain for his brother. A solid large rock that could block winds, wild animals, raiders, and all things that could tear him down. Bathwandwa said that is what he was to T'Chaka. His father said that he was his brother's light. N'Jobu had to do whatever it took to heal his family and protect his nephew. His poor motherless nephew.
"I will see you in the morning," N'Jobu said.
T'Chaka looked as if he was struggling to find words to say, but N'Jobu waved him off.
"Go rest. We will talk tomorrow. Your son needs you at your best. Bathwandwa needs you at your best."
T'Chaka nodded and stepped into his elevator.
When the doors closed, N'Jobu felt his shoulders slump. He would have to bear the weight of the entire family. He could feel that already.
###
It was the small things that N'Jobu noticed first.
T'Chaka stopped taking his meals with the family. All food was brought to his quarters.
When N'Jobu did run into his brother in various rooms, T'Chaka stunk of wine or plum liquor.
Less time was spent holding T'Challa or even being in the same room with him.
N'Jobu gave his brother as much space as he could, but when he found himself entertaining Bathwandwa's parents and sisters in the South wing with T'Challa, he felt that his sister-in-law's family were upset with his brother. Bathwandwa's mother tried to infer that perhaps their family should care for T'Challa, or at least one of Bathwandwa's unmarried sisters should move into the palace and become the child's nanny.
Always the dutiful brother and ever protective of the Udaku reputation, N'Jobu softened the hard eyes that Bathwandwa's family were giving his own. They wanted to stay in the palace with T'Challa for at least a year. T'Chaka gave them two months and a firm deadline to be away from all interference. They could visit often, but they would not be granted unlimited access to the young Prince. T'Challa was to be raised as an Udaku.
"My sister should have held out and married you instead," said Osefa, Bathwandwa's middle sister as she watched N'Jobu cuddle his nephew.
"Osefa!" Bathwandwa's father lowered his eyes when he yelled at his middle daughter.
"Baba, Osefa can speak freely in front of me," N'Jobu said.
Bathwandwa's father had a satisfied smile on his face when N'Jobu called him Baba. N'Jobu addressed both of Bathwandwa's parents using an informal tongue that made them feel like real family.
Osefa's face perked up when N'Jobu said her name.
"Forgive her poor choice of words, Prince N'Jobu," Bathwandwa's mother, Amma said.
"Since you have proclaimed that I can speak freely, Prince N'Jobu, why has your brother not come to visit with us? My sister gave up her life for your family's next heir, and yet only you and your parents have spent time with us. Why is that?" Osefa said.
"His pain runs deep—"
"No deeper than ours," Osefa said.
Amma stood up from her seat and she hissed Osefa's name under her breath. Osefa stormed out of the quarters.
"Please, forgive her your Highness. Her disrespect toward you is unforgiveable—"
"No need to ask for forgiveness. I will go speak to her."
N'Jobu handed T'Challa to Amma. Two royal attendants and Yejide were with them to keep an eye on how T'Challa was treated. These people may be related to the Udaku's by marriage and the blood that ran in T'Challa's veins, but N'Jobu's Umama was not above having safety nets in place to protect a future King.
N'Jobu sauntered out of the guest quarters in search of Osefa. He found her huddled against a large glass window overlooking a small corner of Birnin Zana.
"Osefa," he said, touching her shoulder.
"Your brother blames T'Challa for my sister's death."
"Don't say that-"
"I know you have seen how he acts. I have seen your face watching him too. Why else would he distance himself?'
It was true. N'Jobu couldn't deny his concerns. He saw with his own eyes too. But N'Jobu wanted to believe that it was just the sorrow and shock that had T'Chaka becoming something unknowable right before everyone's eyes.
"He will get better. After he works through his grief, he will never leave T'Challa's side," N'Jobu said.
Osefa stared at him like he had two heads.
"You really believe that rhino shit you are trying to feed me, your Highness? You are the one who never leaves that child's side. Would you like to wager a bet that T'Challa calls you Baba first?"
"Watch your mouth, Osefa," he said.
"I am no longer free, I see," she said, "See you around the palace, Baba," she sneered, leaving him by the window.
###
N'Jobu sat in the royal motorcade as they made their way to the national memorial for Bathwandwa's internment. Her body lay in state inside the East palace for all the public to come to pay their respects before they left to take her to Necropolis City where she would be entombed among previous Queens and Kings. In all the major cities on public jumbotrons, they played tributes to the young Queen. A popular vid was N'Jobu and his friends singing to her at the coronation. The nation seemed to have that on loop.
Although he was in mourning, N'Jobu was also agitated. T'Chaka was still being selfish and closed off from the family. It was like he expected his poor dead wife to be the only caregiver of his child. All official palace duties had been suspended, and T'Chaka was free to do nothing but be with his son. Instead, he stayed holed up in his quarters drinking. Any tears he had left for Bathwandwa were already spent.
The Queen Mother stepped in to oversee T'Challa's well-being, but it bugged the hell out of N'Jobu that his brother didn't seem grateful for their mother's support. Their father did attempt to convince T'Chaka to be more present in his son's life, but his talks were ignored. Mourning was one thing, but neglecting your baby?
Now N'Jobu sat in the royal motorcade seething. This was not the type of behavior he would've displayed. If he had a wife…shit, if Califia were his wife and this happened to her, he would have their child wrapped around his side at all times, making sure his baby knew that he or she was loved by their father. King or no King, T'Chaka needed to nurture his own child. Not the royal attendants or servants who worked in the palace. A man could grieve and love their son at the same time.
The Queen Mother held the baby in her arms as she sat next to Baba and N'Jobu. T'Chaka wanted to use the Royal Talon Fighter to take them all to the final destination, but Umama insisted that they drive Bathwandwa through the city so her people could say farewell to her in person. At that very moment, he could see citizens taking pictures of the hearse car in front of them and crying over her. Some were waving at their car because they knew the newborn Prince was inside. Many were wearing some form of blue which was Bathwandwa's favorite color. Their people deserved to see her. It would be a long drive, but it was worth bringing the country together.
When they finally reached the cut-off point, where the citizens could no longer follow in person but could watch on the global or on vid, N'Jobu began to feel the true magnitude of the moment.
The public viewing was difficult for him. To see Bathwandwa lying on open display made him feel ill, but he knew the citizens loved her and wanted to pay their respects to her and the family.
The royal family agreed to keep T'Challa out of the limelight for a few weeks. No official pictures or sightings of him were allowed in any capacity.
N'Jobu glanced over at his mother. She was rubbing T'Challa's back as she held him against her chest.
"Umama, give him to me," N'Jobu said.
His mother handed over T'Challa and tried to straighten out his little blue jumper and matching cap.
"I have it, Umama," he said fixing T'Challa's clothes.
His parents had been silent for most of the ride. T'Chaka chose to fly ahead of them all, while the rest of the Udaku clan and Bathwandwa's family rode in the motorcade.
Upon arriving at the family tombs, an attendant approached N'Jobu to take the baby.
"I have him," N'Jobu said.
N'Jobu could see T'Chaka waiting for the family at the top of the steps that led to Bathwandwa's final resting place. Walking up the steps, N'Jobu stood next to his brother.
"Would you like to hold him?" N'Jobu asked.
T'Chaka took the baby, and N'Jobu felt pleased. But the feeling lasted the few minutes it took for T'Chaka to hand off the child to an attendant that stood behind him. N'Jobu said nothing in response and waited for his parents to meet them at the top with the rest of the family.
###
It had been ten long days.
N'Jobu kept up with his studies online and spoke to Califia every day. He watched her model her cap and gown for him. She also asked him if he would go visit her Dad with her, and he agreed. Her mid-term grades had been stellar, and she went out to party with Rolita and Soliel. She shared pictures of their night out.
One evening she began to ask him questions about the erotic book of Wakandan poems.
"Okay, so there's this one passage that I don't understand. I need you to clarify for me," she said as he watched her on face chat.
"Give it to me," he said.
She was sitting on their bed wearing one of his sweatshirts, a glass of wine in her hand.
"Don't spill any of that on the duvet," he said.
"I'm not going to spill anything on the blanket."
"It's a duvet—"
"Shut up, no one cares…now listen to me…"
She was tipsy and cute at the same time. His nightly convos with her had saved him while he was in Birnin Zana.
"How much did you drink before you logged on?"
"I had one glass…two glasses…you know what, it doesn't matter, I'm grown, nigga! I'm grown!" she said toasting her glass to him.
"What's your question silly girl?"
"What are…." She held up the book and flipped the page.
"Califia, watch the wine—"
"Here it is. What are the 'ring and seed of the beloved'? Okay, your eyebrow just went up. Is that some freak nasty Wakanda shit? Do tell Black man, do tell."
N'Jobu reached for his own glass of wine and took a few sips.
"Okay. Listen closely—"
"Watchu think I've been doing? I'm sitting here waiting on you-"
"Stop talking, then. Okay, a lot of societies have piercings as part of their culture, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well in Wakanda we have all sorts of piercing and augmentations. As part of the tradition, the royal couples or nobles would get piercings on their private parts as a testament of their love. A way of marking themselves as taken."
"Like the beads."
"Well, the beads can be given between unmarried lovers of any status, but the piercings were considered marks for the married upper echelon. A woman would get a specially designed clit piercing that matched her husbands."
"So y'all doing that Prince Albert cock ring shit, where it goes through the head…oh my God that shit looks like it hurts so bad!"
"The women get the clit ring, but the men get a small flat jewel inserted at the base of the penis. It's no bigger than an apple seed. The two become the beloved when the man inserts his penis in the woman, and the piercings kind of meet up when the couple makes love in the missionary position…"
Califia had gotten very quiet when she was listening to him talk.
"So only the upper crust gets those piercings?"
"Yes. Nowadays layman get them for fashion and being trendy, but for the as you say, the upper crust, there are special versions made just for them."
"Will you get one?"
"Eventually."
"But it's just for your wife, right?"
Her face looked so expectant. He still hated talking about stuff like that with her. It just reminded him of their expiration date in the future. He wanted to change the topic.
"I think that's cool. The poem makes more sense now. I bet it looks really pretty to see the jewels meet up."
She drank her wine. He drank his.
"How is the baby?"
N'Jobu's face perked up and he held up his cell phone. He had taken so many pictures of T'Challa that he had to create a separate file to contain all the photos.
"Oh! He's starting to have a face now!" she said.
They both laughed.
"You know newborns always looked like dried apples, their faces all scrunched up. He looks like a little person now. Like a little Black Charlie Brown with those little sprigs of hair! He's so cute. Is your brother doing better?"
"No. Not really."
"Is he at least spending more time with T'Challa?"
"The way my brother ignores him, T'Challa probably thinks I'm his father now."
"Give him time N'Jobu. He's probably paralyzed in his grief. Probably can't even think straight."
"But that's his baby. How hard is it just to hold your son? Kiss him? Sing to him? Let him know that you are there for him? It doesn't make sense to me."
"Everyone reacts their own way to death and loss, N'Jobu. Give him some slack. You are doing the best thing for him right now. Being that father figure for T'Challa until his father is strong enough to take over. It'll work out."
"I hope you are right. My mother has not had a single night of rest because she is handling most of T'Challa's care when I'm not doing it."
"You are a compassionate man and a good brother."
"I don't know what is to become of my family once I leave. I hope they can hold it together."
"They will."
"I'm ready to come home to you."
"I'm ready for you to return…"
She lifted up his large sweatshirt so he could see his beads back on her waist. Her white cotton panties were sheer. She slid two fingers down onto her mound then scissored her clit with them through the panties.
"Maybe I should get a clit ring," she said. The tips of her two fingers rotated around the nub that was now visibly swollen. N'Jobu's hands went to his thighs where he just rested them there. He could feel his breath quicken. He let her control the situation.
"Would you like that, N'Jobu? Put your ring on me here?"
She started patting her clit. His hands balled into fists, but he just kept watching her. For three months they hadn't had sex of any kind. He hadn't seen her pussy in so long he forgot how pretty it was, even hidden behind sheer white panties. He could see a stain on the crotch now. She was wet. She dragged her two fingers up and down spreading the moisture, then slid them down inside the front of her panties.
"I want you to come home and eat my pussy, N'Jobu," she whispered, opening her thighs wide, her fingers working her slit. He saw her fingers sink deep inside of herself.
"Califia…" he finally groaned out, "my dick is so hard right now."
Her eyes drifted down to his lap.
"I don't see anything," she said.
He pushed back from his desk in his chair. He could carve his name in stone with his dick if he had to in that state.
"Damn, I forgot how big you are, baby."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Watch me play with my pussy," she said.
"Okay."
"I want you to stroke yourself, but you can't cum—"
"I won't be able to do that. I feel like I'm ready to bust now—"
"Don't you want to see me happy?
"I do but—"
"But what?"
"It's been so long. I could probably get two good strokes in before I'm done."
She laughed.
"Hold on a minute…" he said, dashing to his bathroom. He grabbed his cock rings and went back to his chair. He lowered his lounge pants and put on his silver glans ring and a thicker red band that cinched his balls.
"Oh shit, you use cock rings?"
He smiled at her.
"You are full of surprises," she said, her eyes filled with intense excitement from looking at him.
"How come you never used those here?"
He shrugged.
"I play with them on occasion."
"Bring those back when you come home," she said.
"I will," he said.
"They look so pretty on you, baby…making that thick dick so pretty…"
Her head fell back and her fingers were going to town inside her panties.
"N'Jobu, it's been too long…it's been too long…stroke your dick for me…please."
He gripped his dick in his hand by the base and just stood it up. Her lips slid open as she stared at his cock. The glans ring making the head extra fat. He stroked himself once.
"Oohhh…" Califia groaned.
"Califia, can I be with you when I come home?"
He stroked himself again, and her eyes closed, her fingers a feverish blur inside her panties.
"Can I get inside you again, baby?" he asked.
"Yes," she gasped, opening her eyes staring at his cock.
A bit of pre-cum slid out of him, he pushed open the slit in his tip and showed it to her. She was moaning.
"I'll do whatever you want me to," he said, "you just tell me what you want."
"I want to sit on your dick," she panted.
That caught him off guard and he found his own voice becoming a low growl.
"You want to sit on my dick?"
"Yes! I want to sit on Daddy's dick!"
Well, damn. She was already calling him Daddy again.
She lifted up from the bed so that she was sitting up. She slid her panties down to her knees, then rested on one arm as her other hand worked her clit.
"I can't wait for you to come home baby…"
Her voice was straining. N'Jobu started working his shaft, his eyes glued to her pussy.
"Cum in my pussy…I need you in here…deep…oh shit…!"
"That's a good girl," he said working his swollen head, and then he was coating his own fingers with long thick spurts.
"Jobu…" she whimpered, and collapsed on his bed, her legs tangled up in her panties, giggling like crazy.
He looked down at his lap.
"Look at the mess you made, girl."
She sat up and stared at him through the screen.
"Get home so I can clean you up."
"Soon, girl. Soon," he said.
###
N'Jobu rose early enough to have the royal gardens to himself as he made his morning run. Shirtless and in long shorts, he made good time through his mother's prized African Violets and sage. He needed to sweat out the stress his brother was putting him under.
After Bathwandwa was laid to rest, T'Chaka informed N'Jobu that he would have to return home sooner than N'Jobu wanted. N'Jobu argued that his studies were important, and T'Chaka conceded that he could finish out the term and see how much he could complete in the summer. N'Jobu tried to hide his rising temper, but his parents argued in favor of the return too. They wanted him finishing military duty and marrying Zinzi right away.
The sun beat down his back, and his lungs felt on fire as he ran hard, stretching his leg muscles, breathing in the rich aroma of flowers and fruit trees.
When he was through running he dressed quickly and had a chauffeured car drive him to a piercing specialist that only catered to royal bloodlines and nobles.
An older woman with hypnotic light brown eyes greeted him through a private entrance. N'Jobu's Doras waited for him outside. The woman, Sade, escorted him to a viewing room where she laid out various body rings on a black velvet cloth. He wanted a silver half ring with emerald stones on the ends. The rich green looked amazing on Califia's skin whenever she wore it as clothing. He thought it would look good as a seed jewel on his skin too. He wasn't looking forward to getting pierced, but the process was quick and healed fast. It was probably a stupid idea, but N'Jobu thought at the spur of the moment that if he and Califia were pierced, they could somehow still be together even if they were separated for the rest of their lives. The expression on her face when he explained what the ring and seed meant from the erotic poem appeared to intrigue her. Maybe she would be open to getting the ring. If she didn't want to, he was going to still keep his.
"See any that you fancy, your Highness?" Sade asked. She pulled out more choices.
"Do you have greens more vivid than this?"
Sade nodded, and when she pulled out another selection, he saw one that was blended with a vibranium base. This was the one. He selected three of varying sizes. He knew Califia's body very well, but he had to make sure he had the right fit as he had to consider swelling after a piercing.
"This way, your Highness," Sade said, guiding him to another room where he would be having his jewel inserted into his penis.
Sade didn't bat an eye when he lowered his pants. She showed him the areas where she could place the jewel. He tended to go deep when he was inside Califia, so he showed Sade where his jewel should go.
She cleaned him, coated him with a greenish liquid that would prevent infection, and when she lifted up his flaccid penis in her gloved hand, he started laughing.
"I am sorry, Sade. But you are so calm and cool when you do this. You must see all types of bodies in here."
"I have been doing this for a long time and nothing surprises me when people sit on my table. I will say that you are blessed, your Highness."
N'Jobu nearly fell out from laughing even harder. Sade just smiled.
"I will begin now, your Highness. Be still, please."
It didn't hurt as much as he thought, the cut and insertion were done quickly. Sade attached a small device over the jewel that heated up, speeding up the healing process. When she was done, he stood in front of a mirror and looked at it. It was striking to look at against his rich skin color.
"Will your beloved be coming in soon to get herself done?"
"I'm going to take the rings and show them to her first, in case she wants to change it," he said, not making eye contact. She wrapped up the rings in a satin bag and handed them to him.
"Thank you, Sade."
"Your Highness, I am so very sorry about the Queen. She was a lovely woman. I give you comfort for your loss. All of Wakanda will miss her."
"Thank you, Sade."
"Is the young Prince well?"
"He is doing very well, thank you."
He saw Sade's eyes well up.
"With the country's love and support, we will get through this. Don't worry, Sade."
She nodded and wiped her eyes.
Once N'Jobu was back in the royal car and heading back to the palace, he took out his cell and sent Califia a text message.
"I may have done something really cool or very foolish, but promise me you will have an open mind when I get home."
He put away his cell and stared out of the window.
"Kofi, could you just drive around the city for a bit? I'd like to see the streets," N'Jobu said.
Ometeko and Yejide said nothing and rode quietly with him, Yejide in the front seat, and Ometeko on his right.
For ninety minutes he did nothing but watch Birnin Zana go past him.
###
Despite the pain of losing Bathwandwa, despite the uncertainty of his life in the states and how much time he had left with Califia, it would be T'Challa's sweet baby smell that calmed N'Jobu down from his worries inside the palace.
N'Jobu carried T'Challa wrapped around his chest as they took a nephew and uncle walk through the royal garden. T'Chaka was meeting with the council of elders, and N'Jobu wanted to spend his last few hours in Wakanda with his nephew.
He watched his mother clip thorns from her hybrid roses.
"You like being in America?" his mother asked.
"I do. I enjoy the people, and I enjoy my studies. I am learning a lot."
His mother stopped cutting thorns and turned to look at him, her large floppy sun hat and gardening gloves making her look less royal and more matronly.
"Why do you want to stay longer? You could finish your courses online here and be back with the family. Look how good you are with, T'Challa. You would be a great help to your brother now."
"Umama, the point of leaving Wakanda is for me to learn how to deal with Americans. If I am to become the great Ambassador you all wish me to be, then I must be around the people I will be working with in the future. Part of that is finishing school in person and not online sitting inside the palace."
"Have you visited with Zinzi since you have been back?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I did not feel like socializing—"
"Socializing? N'Jobu…Zinzi is going to be your wife! Part of the betrothal march is spending time with her, getting to know her, building a stable partnership. You should let her comfort you, allow her to start becoming a part of this family."
N'Jobu cradled T'Challa's head and looked at his nephew's face.
"N'Jobu, are you listening to me?"
"Yes, Umama, I hear you—"
"I said are you listening to me?"
"Yes. Listen, I have to go back inside. T'Challa has soiled himself. I need to change his diaper."
"You are going to spoil T'Challa carrying him around with you all day," his mother said as she lightly touched T'Challa's foot.
"He deserves it," he said.
N'Jobu walked back to his mother's garden shuttle where an attendant drove him back to the palace with the baby.
He cleaned his nephew in the nursery, slathered a cooling salve on T'Challa's little bottom and then took him for a feeding inside the sunroom. Sitting in a nice high-back chair and looking down upon the royal garden, N'Jobu fed T'Challa.
"Bathwandwa, please watch over your baby and T'Chaka. Please watch over me too," he whispered.
His kimoyo beads lit up. Zinzi.
He ignored the call.
When T'Challa was done eating, N'Jobu held him up on his shoulder to burp him, trying to rub the baby's back the way his mother showed him.
When a healthy sound came out of T'Challa's mouth, N'Jobu smiled and called for an attendant to take the baby for his nap. He tapped a kimoyo bead to locate his brother. T'Chaka was in the King's quarters.
A doe-eyed attendant no older than twenty arrived. N'Jobu kissed T'Challa on the cheek and handed him over.
"Be very careful with him," he said.
"Yes, your Highness," she said.
N'Jobu strode out of the sunroom and headed for the elevators. It was time to have a little chat with the King.
###
T'Chaka didn't look too pleased to see N'Jobu.
Wearing a casual lounging robe and slippers, T'Chaka looked like a man of leisure. A shot of plum liquor was in his hand.
"You want one?" he asked looking at N'Jobu with a hint of petulance. Their last meeting together was a bit acrimonious, and at that point, N'Jobu didn't care too much for how T'Chaka was treating him. Like he was a personal pawn to be played as T'Chaka saw fit.
N'Jobu walked over to the private bar sitting in the corner of a wide open living room that faced out upon the city. He poured himself an extra shot of the plum liquor and drank it right away.
"You are leaving soon?"
"Yes," N'Jobu said.
"Your studies await you," T'Chaka said.
"Brother, when I leave here, will you start to care about your son?"
"What are you talking about? I love my son—"
"When was the last time you held him, eh? Changed a diaper? Bathed him?"
"What is your point?"
"What kind of father will you be?"
T'Chaka pointed his index finger at him.
"You do not speak to your King that way-"
"I will speak to my brother any way I see fit!" N'Jobu retorted, his nostrils flaring and his eyes not backing down from the red-hot glare T'Chaka gave him.
T'Chaka stomped over to him, his face mere inches from N'Jobu's, his breath reeking of too much plum liquor.
"From now on you will address me as your King until I say you can come at me as my brother."
N'Jobu cocked his head to the side, a sly smile easing across his face.
"That is how it will be then?" he asked.
"Yes."
N'Jobu nodded his head a bit and pressed his lips together. He gave T'Chaka a cruel smile.
"Then my King, I shall leave you in peace," N'Jobu said, bowing his head and heading toward the door.
"Tick tock, tick tock, Baby Brother. Your time in California will be ending soon…" T'Chaka said sipping on his plum liquor.
N'Jobu slammed the door behind him.
###
The Royal Scorpion Fighter hovered above his apartment building for a few hours as they waited for it to become night. It was easier for N'Jobu to slip out from under the cloak of the multi-spectral camouflage shield in darkness rather than broad daylight. When it was dark enough and quiet enough, N'Jobu slinked away from the ship and walked himself up the stairs to his unit carrying a large box.
The apartment was dark when he entered it. He took off his sneakers and left them by the front door. He placed the box on the couch.
Entering his bedroom, he saw Califia's form under the covers in the bed. Removing his clothes, he eased himself next to her and she woke up.
"N'Jobu?"
Her sleepy voice was a balm to his ears. She reached out for him and he took her hand and kissed it, then eased his head onto her stomach. She rubbed his scalp and her touch broke him.
"It's okay…" she whispered to him.
All the grief and stress and fear flowed out of him as he cried in her arms. The pain he held inside for so long, having to lie to her about his identity, having to see the end of their beginning as a couple so soon on the horizon, having a life that truly wasn't his own. And to now lose his sister-in-law. It was too much. It all came flooding out in ragged sobs with him clutching onto Califia's arms.
"Let it all out, baby. I got you. Release all that shit."
He wanted to escape his responsibilities. He wanted to run away with her.
It felt like hours had passed crying in her arms, but soon he felt spent, and the pain in his chest had subsided enough so that all he did was shudder every now and then. She kept kissing the top of his head and stroking his back. He shifted himself so that his face was pressed against her breasts. She was topless. He couldn't really see her face in the poorly lit room, but he sensed that she knew what he was thinking.
"Go ahead," she whispered, stroking one of her nipples, and he fastened his lips onto it and sucked like he would die without it. His fingers found their way to her other nipple and plucked at it. He heard her breath hitch in her throat. Three months was too long not to taste her. He could feel his dick growing heavy and jutting against her leg.
He used his teeth to graze both her nipples and moved himself up higher so he could grasp her breasts in both his hands, squeezing and fondling their heft. He raised his head up and found her lips with his own and kissed her as he continued playing with her tits.
This was where he was supposed to be. With her.
His lips sucked on her tongue then moved to her neck and the tender places on her shoulder. He felt himself heating up and he didn't want to overwhelm her; they were still healing from a fragile place.
His hands trailed down her body and he felt his beads on her hips. He pulled on them, trying to focus himself, slow down the greedy lust he felt taking over his emotions.
"I need to taste you," he breathed out, circling his thumb around her plump nipple, "Can I eat your pussy, Califia? Please…"
He felt her hands rest on his head and then they were pushing him down. He slid down her body as she widened her legs.
He allowed his nose to graze her clit, and then he was pressing his face against her, breathing in her scent. He flattened his tongue and dragged it up and down her vulva. She had waxed, and he missed the hair down there. She only waxed or shaved to near hairlessness when she was about to perform, and her final spring dance concert was upon her. He missed her pubic hairs tickling his nose and tongue, but he would always eat whatever came out of her panties, so it was not a problem.
Soft sighs emanated above him, so he knew he hadn't lost his touch with her.
He twisted his tongue and circled her clit, using soft and hard licks to nudge the hood. He felt it swell with his ministrations, and he kept at it until she was lifting her legs up higher.
"Bay-bee…" she said.
He moaned so loud when she said that, the lilt in her voice letting him know he was doing it, and doing it well for her. He groaned into her center so she could feel his voice vibrate her tender flesh, and she whimpered the way he liked her to.
His tongue lapped up the juices that were beginning to flow from her, and he twisted and pinched her nipples with his fingers. Her pants began in earnest and he finally slid his tongue inside of her, gripping her thighs with his fingers. Her hips lifted a bit, and he felt her arching her back. Her fingers found their way to his scalp.
"Shit…" she said pressing on his head harder. His tongue worked her center with gentle thrusts and she wrapped her legs around his neck.
"Damn, boy, you eat pussy so good, oh muh gawd…" she groaned, her words smashing together, barely coherent.
He hummed to vibrate her skin more, and then fixed his lips on her clit, sucking it gently as if it were a succulent fruit to be savored and not gobbled up.
Her pants increased and he felt her raise up onto her elbows.
"Bay-bee, I'm…I'm cumming…"
He kept sucking her gently, keeping the same rhythm as she rocked her hips, her orgasm stealing her voice as her wetness coated his tongue. When she stopped shuddering, he released her and made his way back up her body and held her.
"Damn, N'Jobu…damn baby…" she panted clutching his arms.
He kissed her, sharing her taste, pulling her closer to his body.
"Let me just hold you," he said, listening to her hurried breath, feeling her body still tremble against him.
His brother had lost his wife, the love of his life.
Califia was in his arms, and he knew without any doubt that he would never find a woman like her ever again in his natural born life. She was his great love and he felt so much terror in his heart knowing that he would lose her. Not to death like his brother, but to a life he couldn't have with her. Lying with her next to him, he vowed once more to do all that he could to make her happy with the months he had left. He was going to live several lifetimes with her in the small window of time still granted to him.
"I love you…" she said as she drifted off to sleep.
"I adore you," he answered back.
It took him a long time to fall asleep. The cobwebs of his fears had him tangled. He was trying not to choke on them while he held his woman in his arms.
###
N'Jobu slept for several hours.
When he woke up, he could hear Califia puttering around the kitchen, and he could smell food cooking. It felt late in the day. The clock on the nightstand read two in the afternoon. He threw on some boxers and sauntered out of the bedroom.
"Hey, look who's among the living," she said, pouring orange juice into a glass. He glanced at the stove and saw that she was frying up Italian sausage.
"Nothing fancy, just sausage and some brown rice in the cooker. You hungry?"
"Yes," he said plopping himself on a chair.
"My poor baby. You should go back to bed. I'll save you some food."
"I'll eat with you now."
She scooped out rice from the cooker and piled it on a plate, then smothered it with the Italian sausage. The sweet peppers in the sausage made his mouth water. She poured another glass of orange juice.
They ate together, and Califia kept watching his face.
"What's the crazy thing you did?" she asked.
He stopped eating and regarded her with caution.
"Remember when you were asking me about the ring and seed?"
"Yeah?"
"I got pierced."
"Down there?"
"Yes."
"Let me see it!"
She scrambled off her chair and stood in front of him. He rose up from his seat and lowered his boxers.
"Oh, wow. Can I touch it?"
He nodded, and she took her index finger and gently felt it.
"How bad did it hurt?"
"Not too bad. Hey, wait a second…"
He rushed back into the bedroom and came back to the kitchen holding the satin bag that Sade gave him.
"Open it."
She took the bag and pulled out the rings wrapped in delicate pink tissue paper. Her eyes looked at the jewelry, then back up at him.
"If you want…and only if you want to…these are the rings that match my piercing," he said
"You want me to get pierced?"
"It's up to you. If you don't want to, it's cool. You seemed like you enjoyed the story of the ring and the seed when we face chatted. I could get them turned into a necklace if you want…or if you don't want that—"
"I thought…I thought you only got this when you um, y'know…had your wife…"
"I can't imagine getting these unless it was with you. We can't…I have to be with—"
"Don't say it…please…"
"I wish our paths could be different."
She sat back down and so did he. They ate their meal in silence, and N'Jobu helped himself to seconds.
"You really did that for me?" she asked, breaking the solemn mood.
He nodded.
"What does having that on you mean exactly for us?"
"What do you want it to mean?"
"That you're mine, no matter what."
"I will always be yours. Wherever we may end up in life that will always be true."
He took their dishes and washed them.
"There's still enough rice in here for dinner if you want," he said closing the rice cooker back up.
He poured himself another glass of orange juice.
"I brought you something back from Wakanda," he said sipping on his drink.
"Where is it?"
"In a box on the couch."
Califia jumped up and ran into the living room.
"N'Jobu!"
He walked into the living room.
She held up an exquisite Border Tribe blanket.
"This is gorgeous!"
She wrapped it around herself, the vivid blues and aquamarine accents highlighting the ancient silver and vibranium blue symbols that decorated the cloth.
"I love it. Thank you!" she said. She kissed him and he watched her twirl around with it.
"It's so warm!"
"There's more in the box," he said.
She folded the thick blanket carefully and sat it on the couch. She pulled out a thin-strapped saffron nightgown that matched his lounging robes, and also a richly textured sapphire-colored silk robe.
"Think of them as early graduation presents," he said, feeling thrilled that she liked them all so much.
She walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He kissed her forehead. He wanted to give her more, but she seemed pleased with what he gave her. She held up the silk bag with the rings.
"Let's go do the piercing now," she said, staring up into his face.
"Right now?"
"Yeah. You already missed your classes for the day, and I'm free. Let's go do it. We can go to the place where I got my nose done years ago."
"You're serious? You really want to do this?" He couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.
"I want it."
"Okay. Okay," he said going for his car keys.
###
"You don't have a woman back there who can do this?"
Califia watched N'Jobu hound Paul, the piercer who did her nose back in the day.
Paul sat behind his counter with Califia's rings in his hand.
"N'Jobu, Paul is the best. Do you want to come in and watch him do it? A woman did yours, what's the big deal?"
N'Jobu backed down when Paul started laughing at him.
"Give me some time to sterilize these, and you can come on back with us," Paul said.
Califia watched N'Jobu's face and he seemed to find coming to the back room with her acceptable.
"I'll get these fixed up, and when we get you on the table we can figure out which size will fit you best."
"Cool," Califia said grabbing N'Jobu's hand and making him sit with her in the waiting area.
"Why are you trippin'?"
"Why do you have to have a dude touch you down there? There should be women in here to handle women."
"There are, but like I said, Paul is the best. I'd rather have him than any woman. His work is impeccable."
"He is too damn good-looking. He probably flirts with women while he's touching them."
"Shut up," she said.
"I don't think you've had a good look at your private area to appreciate my concern," he said.
She just rolled her eyes at him.
"Can you handle wearing a condom for the next four weeks?" she asked.
"You'll be wearing my private ring. I can sacrifice for it," he joked. She wouldn't be able to have any bodily fluids on her because of possible infection. Healing took four to six weeks.
"And you're wearing mine," she said, leaning in towards him and kissing his lips. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and he pulled away.
"You can change your mind if you want," he said.
"Too late. I'm here. I want this."
N'Jobu stared into her eyes. He was unable to tell her how special this was. It was more than a piercing. In his culture, this was pretty much proclaiming them as husband and wife. His people would never recognize it because she was a foreigner, an outsider, and hers most certainly would scoff at the idea, but for him, this was final. It would not matter to him that he would marry Zinzi one day, because in his mind, Califia would always be the one true wife.
"Califia, come on back," Paul said.
She squeezed his hand and they both walked into the back.
"You can take off your shoes, and put your pants and underwear in this bag. Then I need you to hop up on this table and place your feet in these stirrups.
"This turned into a gynecological exam fast," Califia said slipping out of her clothes.
She climbed onto the table and slipped her feet into the silver stirrups. N'Jobu was already feeling a tightness in his chest seeing her vagina on display for another man.
Paul slipped on surgical gloves and pulled a rolling tray near him as he sat between Califia's legs. N'Jobu could see the three rings and several needles on the tray.
"N'Jobu," Califia said, holding out her hand to him. He stood by her side and held her hand, his eyes never leaving Paul.
"Okay, let's see what size we'll need. I'm going to touch you now, okay, Califia?"
"Go ahead," she said.
Paul touched Califia's clitoral hood, prodding it to see how much skin was there that he could put a ring through. He held each ring against her clit.
"These are really amazing pieces, where did you get them?" Paul asked.
"He brought them from Wakanda," Califia said.
"Wakanda? Where is that?"
"East Africa," N'Jobu said, so ready for this whole event to be over so that this man could remove his fingers from his woman. Everything was open. Her vulva, her labia, that good pink that belonged to him and only him. He was getting a tension headache.
"Is everything sterile?" N'Jobu asked.
"Yes, and just so you know, I am a registered nurse," Paul said, glancing up at N'Jobu after he cleaned and prepped Califia's clitoral hood.
"Baby, relax. You're making me tense," Califia said. Her fingers were squeezing his harder.
"Ready?" Paul asked.
Califia nodded her head, but N'Jobu could see she was really nervous. He bent his face close to hers.
"Kiss me," he said. He glanced down at Paul and then turned back to Califia where he lowered his lips and met hers. He suckled her tongue and when he felt her gasp, he knew Paul had done his job. Califia's eyes closed and she sucked in her breath.
"All in," Paul said.
He handed Califia a mirror and they both looked between her legs.
"It's beautiful," she said.
N'Jobu felt so pleased. Paul removed himself from between her legs when N'Jobu glared at him.
"Give her some privacy now," N'Jobu demanded.
Paul left them alone quickly.
"Stop being so mean. This is his job."
She slipped her legs from the stirrups.
"Wait, hold your legs up," he said.
She did as he asked and he moved to stand in front of her. He gripped her legs and stared down at his ring.
"Fuck," he said looking back into her eyes.
"You like it?"
"Wait until you heal, girl," he said.
His mind was reeling. She wore his beads, and now she had his ring. She had no idea the power she had over him now. No one would come before her.
She must've seen it in his eyes. He was ready to fuck her on the table.
"We better get out of here," she said scrambling down from the table. She put on her clothes and shoes.
"I'm not fucking you with any condoms. Once you heal, it's on," he said.
"Can you last that long?"
"Watch me."
###
Califia adjusted her cap on her head as she looked around the sprawling crowd searching for her family and N'Jobu. Nana had flat-ironed her hair again because she didn't want Califia wearing her graduation cap tilted to the side because her hair was too big for the cap to sit on.
Of course, her mother was pleased to see her hair in such a respectable straightened state. And it was her mother she was worried about sitting in the stands with N'Jobu. Probably asking him every damn nosy question under the sun. And of course, Junie was probably going to show out and yell obscenities when she got her university diploma. Her Dad's side of the family had never had a college graduate before. She would be their first.
Several rows behind her, Soliel and Aunjanue sat. She wished Rolita had started when they did so she could graduate with them, but she took a gap year to travel and had one more year left until she graduated. Because she was summa cum laude, Califia was in the very front, her robe and tassel denoting her academic distinction.
The ceremony seemed to drag, and by the time her section stood up to get their official graduate applause, Califia was ready to kick off her heels and toss back celebratory shots with her friends and family. She was done. Finished with the first part of her education.
When it was all over and she could finally find her family amidst the other graduates and their families, Califia felt she could relax for a bit. It would be several months before she had to start her credential program, so she could officially goof off and not worry about books and tests, and dance classes. Yes, Lordt.
Soliel's father picked her up and spun her after he had spun Soliel. Rolita and Aunjanue's family shared hugs with everyone too. Califia's mother, Melissa, gave her a warm embrace.
"You didn't throw your cap," Melissa said.
"I went through too much to get this diploma, Mama. I'm not throwing it nowhere!" Califia joked. It felt nice to have her mother holding her, to see her mother's dark brown skin embracing her with love. Their visits together the last few years had been short and often strained to the point of discomfort. Maybe graduating with honors made Melissa more loving towards her. Or maybe Califia was learning to accept that she and her mother would always be oil and water. Nana and Junie hugged her next, then Bakari and Shavonne congratulated her, and then finally, her eyes found N'Jobu, and she jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist.
She gave him a long and intimate kiss.
"Alright now, you and Dayclean can knock it off in public," Nana said.
Califia laughed out loud. Ever since she got with N'Jobu, Nana had nicknamed him after the Geechee word for early morning, because he was always sneaking out of her house at inappropriate times according to her.
N'Jobu put her down, but Califia kept her arms wrapped around him.
"Shall we head off for the restaurant?" N'Jobu suggested and everyone agreed they were starving.
N'Jobu had rented out half a Brazillian restaurant just for Califia's family and friends. She didn't ask how much it was costing him, but the restaurant was a Michelin starred place and there would be an open bar and several courses for all of Soliel's, Aunjanue's and even Rolita's family. N'Jobu included Rolita as a graduate so that she could celebrate with her friends since she would've been in their class had she not traveled.
At the restaurant, Califia wanted to cry because she wished her father could see everyone. Soliel's Dad, Andres, was one of his best friends, and before they went into the restaurant. Andres pulled Califia aside and gave her a speech about how proud he was of her, and how proud her father was of her.
"I am telling you all the things a proud father would say to his daughter. Your father would be thrilled and he is thrilled that you made it," Andres said, "I consider you my daughter also, so this day is doubly special to me."
Califia watched her mother interact with N'Jobu, and it was strange to see Melissa up against a man who was not intimidated by her or backed down from her opinions. She could tell her mother was testing him by asking him questions that she thought would rattle him, but N'Jobu wasn't a young punk, and it was throwing her mother off her nitpick game.
Califia made sure that she and N'Jobu sat next to Soliel's older sister, Lianna, who they all called Negra Lia because of her work in the favelas in their hometown of São Paulo. Lia was a mentor for Soliel and Califia. She was what Califia wanted to be when she grew up, a combination of Angela Davis and Fannie Lou Hamer. If Black Girl Magic was real, Lia was the personification.
Sitting with her as she talked about writing grants and seeking funding for building spaces for young people in poverty, Califia was reminded of why she wanted to be a teacher and work in her own community. She and Soliel wanted to build sister community centers, one in Oakland and one in São Paulo. Lia was their inspiration.
"Cali, you and Soliel are so grown up now," Lia said, "I'm proud of you both. How soon can you come down to see us?"
Califia sipped on water, aware that her mother was watching her. She had the biggest girl-crush on Lia, and even after all these years, whenever Lia's voice was directed at her, Califia always wanted to make the best impression.
"I'll be down a week before I go up for my final cord. Y'know, to get acclimated and stuff. Will you be able to come see me?"
"I will do my best. N'Jobu, will you be joining her?" Lia asked.
"Working my schedule for it. I have a summer session that I am doing."
"Nice. You two really are a nice fit for one another. Auntie Melissa, is this your first time meeting, N'Jobu?"
Califia felt her face flush a bit. She felt her stomach flip too worried about what her mother would say in front of everyone.
"I don't really get a chance to meet too many of her boyfriend's. That last one…what was his name? Xavier? He was a nice young man. N'Jobu seems to be a nice young man too."
Califia sipped more water and kept her focus on Lia.
Andres tapped his knife on his wine glass, then stood up looking at the twenty-seven people sitting at two long tables.
"We are gathered to celebrate our beautiful daughters and their academic achievements. Soliel, Aunjanue, Rolita, and Califia, stand up please."
Califia and her friends stood up as their families beamed proud faces at them. Califia felt her heart beating fast. She thought this day would never come after the hard road she had taken for so many years.
"Everyone, look at these beautiful young women. They've known each other a long time, some as children, and Aunjanue, the beginning of college. All of these women have come from backgrounds that would astound so many people. See, when you come from hard places, people expect you to always be hard. They think you are not smart. Not worthy. Not acceptable. But look at our pearls…"
Califia saw Soliel's face dripping with tears. Rolita was wiping her face. Aunjanue's eyes were welling up. Califia already felt drops falling from her own eyes. Each one of them came from the wrong side of the tracks. Each had to endure so much in their families just to make it. None of them came from families with resources. Soliel would only be the second college graduate in her entire family, right after Lia. Aunjanue's parents never finished high school.
"All of these young women are what we call loud. Truth talkers and walkers. They envision a world that is better than what we imagine. I remember several years ago when my daughter Lia graduated and I was talking to my wife and I said, one day we will celebrate three more university graduates, and standing here now, I can proudly say four with my future daughter-in-law, Aunjanue!"
Soliel put her arm around Aunjanue who had broken down. Andres' eyes shimmered.
"I am a proud father and uncle today. Nana Jean, Melissa, Theresa, John…all of us parents here…look at what God has blessed us with. Look at our daughters. A toast to them!"
Califia wiped her eyes as the entire table held up their glasses to her and her friends. When her eyes sought N'Jobu's he reached out and held her hand as he toasted her.
Lia stood up.
"Can we also give a toast to N'Jobu, who set up this entire venue for us so we didn't have to worry about anything and could just be together?"
The entire table erupted into applause, and N'Jobu just bowed his head. Califia climbed onto his lap and hugged him.
"You did it," he whispered in her ear as he stroked her face.
"Thank you for doing this for us," she said.
They watched everyone hug one another, and as Brazilian music played suddenly, Andres grabbed Soliel's and Aunjanue's hands and pulled them out to the open patio to dance. Several others followed. Califia was surprised to see her mother go out and dance too.
Junie walked over to her and N'Jobu.
"Yo, bruh, this was dope as hell. I know it cost you a grip to reserve all this," Junie said.
"It's all for her," N'Jobu said rubbing Califia's back.
"For sho'. We're all proud of you Cali. You make a negro wanna finish his shit."
"Do it!" Califia said. She stood up and hugged Junie, then held out her hand toward N'Jobu.
She guided him to the patio where they joined the dancing, and for the first time, she realized she had never danced with N'Jobu before.
They spent most of their time studying, reading to each other in bed, working out, cooking meals together while debating politics or she was out teaching capoeira. They never went out dancing together in clubs, and it felt strange to discover that about them as he moved in tandem with her as if they had always done it together.
When an old Gilberto Gil song came on, one that her Dad used to play for her mother, N'Jobu held her so close and tight that she felt enveloped in a love so thick that she never wanted to lose it.
It was not easy to love him.
As time passed, Califia knew the perfect love bubble they had created after he returned from his sister-in-law's funeral would burst.
Their lovemaking had even changed. They still had aggressive quickies and had recently resumed their spanking sessions, but when it was early morning or early evening and they had plenty of time to explore, the sex had reached an intensity she didn't think they could sustain for much longer.
She believed the piercings had a lot to do with the changes.
The first time N'Jobu entered her after she had healed, and his shaft slid to the hilt and they both could create their own ring and seed of the beloved like the book of poetry, she saw something in his eyes that frightened her. The moment he was seated deep inside of her and he saw their piercings near one another, his eyes watered and he spoke to her in Wakandan with the softest voice she had ever heard from him while they were ever intimate. He made those insanely erotic clicking sounds with his tongue, and then his eyes were on her with an intensity that fired up her loins as he rocked his hips into her.
"N'Jobu?" she had questioned, holding his biceps as they flexed.
"I love you…so much…" he said, and then he dropped his head into her neck, wrapped her legs around his waist and just kept up the most erotic rotation of his hips. She felt tears spring into her eyes as he kept saying he loved her over and over into her ear as his own tears dripped down her neck.
He started whispering things to her in Wakandan again, and she tried to listen, but the friction from his groin and the tugging of her clit ring had her panting and whimpering his name.
"Jobu!"
He sat up between her legs as she came on his dick, her walls clenching so tight she started crying from the pleasure it gave her.
"Look at me, Califia…look at me…" he said.
Her wet eyes raised up to look in his, and she felt him cumming inside her. The groan he let out was so staggering, she felt her pussy spasm again just from the sound of it and also from the look in his eyes. It felt and looked like heaven on earth, but also a farewell. His sack was slapping her ass in a satisfying rhythm, and she wanted more. He gave her more, filling up her mouth, covering her tits and ass, and spilling even more cum all over her clit ring.
The fear came in strong after that. The knowing it would all end one day. The knowing that he wouldn't be in her bed, the knowing that his ring and his beads, and his blanket, and his robes would be all that remained to her. He would become a painful memory. A ghost.
Dancing with him, pressed tight into him, feeling his arms surround her and support her, she had to live in the now for every second of the day, and it was hurting her.
Looking around the patio she saw that they were the only ones up dancing, the others stepping away to watch them as if they too knew that this would never be. She saw her mother wiping tears from her own eyes too.
Califia felt her tears flow again and she heard him murmur in her ear once more, "I love you, Califia."
Pushing her face into his shoulder, she knew love wouldn't be enough to keep them together.
Love sounded like goodbye.
A.N:
Hi all!
I'm back at work, so it looks like Fridays/Saturdays will have to be my update days.
Decided to make the last few chapters longer, which means there will be a 4th book in the series. I realize now I want to see Califia, N'Jobu, and Erik together a little longer before we break off into Eriklandia. Which simply means I can't let these two go. #SorryNotSorry Plus I need the extra book to go into the complications of Klaue and the transition of N'Jobu defying his trifling brother. Lol.
Off to write the next update. If I get lucky this weekend, I may be able to get something up Sunday or Monday night.
Thanks for reading!