Kenny And Me

"He was just some guy I met on the subway, Aunt Dee-Dee".

Aunt Dee-Dee just sat in her wheelchair and glared at me. It was always the same. Whenever a guy spoke to me she made it her place to get all up in my business.

"Well, he looked way to old for you, anyway." She retorted.

"For the last time he was not trying to hook up with me!" I said. As you can tell by now my aunt Dee-Dee is extremely overprotective.

"For all you know he could have been a pimp. He may have been trying to turn you out—"

"He was not trying to pimp me auntie! Why are you so damn overprotective? I am 18 years old—a grown woman—and I can take care of myself!" I said in exasperation.

Aunt Dee-Dee's jaw dropped. I sighed. I knew I was gonna hear it.

"Excuse me, missy? I don't like that tone of voice. This is my house and you will respect me in my house! Don't you ever talk to me like that again, Nikkia Bell. Is that understood? I don't care how much karate you know I am still your guardian." She said.

"Yes ma'am..." I sighed, as I dropped my eyes to the floor.

That was her trump card. Whenever I got "Too big for my britches"—as she liked to call it—she always brought up the fact that she was my legal guardian, and I was supposed to follow her rules no matter what.

I often thought about moving out. I was now 'legal', according to the law, and had full control over my estate. I could have easily moved into my own apartment. But, I felt an obligation to her. She was all by herself, and she never had anybody, except me. Aunt Dee-Dee was a like a mother to me. Besides, I knew that I would be going away soon. The moment I located Beatrix I would be out like the jerri curl. There was no need to rush things.

I finally decided to broach the actual topic.

"He wasn't trying to turn me out Auntie..." I mused, "But he did say that he knew my mother."

The room grew deathly silent.

Aunt Dee-Dee didn't say a word. She just looked at me for a moment, as if she were pontificating upon what she would say next.

"Your mother was a good woman. She would never have anything to do with a hood like that...That woman was a saint. She took care of her own, and she loved you and my brother more than anything." She finally whispered.

"Dee-Dee you don't even know Cutlass, how can you call him—"

"The hell I don't know Cutlass. His kind are a dime a dozen." She said, "I have been alive long enough to know a hoodlum when I see one. Trust me; he was up to no good..."

More silence came. It swept the room like a broom.

"He had a name. He said it was my mother's real name."

"Her name was Jeanne Carter. That was her name her entire life."

"Have you ever heard of anyone—from around here—named Vernita Green?" I asked, hoping for an answer that would remove all doubt.

Call it a hunch or a sixth sense, but I had this unshakeable feeling that Aunt Dee-Dee knew.

Aunt Dee-Dee looked me straight in the eye, "No...No, I don't." Her voice quivered for an inkling of a second, "I have never heard of a Vernita Green."

We stood and looked at each other for a moment, "Did you ever wonder why she never came here? Why she never discussed anything about her past? " I asked.

"No. Your mother was just secretive. We all have our own crosses to bear."

"But Auntie, in all the years that you have known her she never said any—"

"Nikkia, lets just stop this conversation, okay? Your mother is dead. I know that it was hard on you, because it was hard on me too; but, for the love of god let her soul rest. " She pleaded.

The silence rolled in, once again, like a tidal wave. We both held each other's gaze for several seconds.

I started to speak again, but the phone in my bedroom began to ring.

"I'll get it." I said, as I walked out of the living room.

I'm sorry Auntie, but that isn't good enough for me, not anymore. So don't give me that Rest in Peace bullshit. I'm going to find out about her whether you like it or not. I thought.

I walked up the stairs and opened the door to my bedroom.

I really loved my room. It was my place to meditate and disregard everything that bothered me. Whenever I did not feel like thinking about Beatrix—or anything else stressful—I went up to my bedroom.

As I stepped through the doorway the lovely fragrance of flowers and candy submerged my senses. I loved burning incense sticks and lighting candles. True, I adore martial arts, but I am a girly girl at heart, don't get it twisted. I relish pretty things. My room was filled with pastel colored lace, ribbons, and silk. It had somewhat of an earthy psychedelic feel to it. The decade of the 60's and 70's really inspired my style (not to mention Oprah Winfrey decorating shows). All along my walls was my collection of antique baby dolls and stuffed animals. My room was like a fantasy hideaway for me. No one could touch me here. It was the only place on Earth where I always felt safe.

I plopped down on my day bed, and took the ringing phone off the receiver.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Yo, what's up shorty?" A male voice asked from the other end. I smiled.

It was my best friend Kenny.

"Hey, Kenny what's up?" I replied. I believe I mentioned Kenny earlier. He and I met seven years ago when I first started attending Master Jackson's Tae Kwon Do class. Yep, he is the kid whose ribs I broke. Well actually, I only fractured two of them. The kick did not cause an actual break. However, that minor accident resulted in me bringing him flowers, which led to us becoming best friends. I did not have any real friends except Kenny. He and I were both martial arts enthusiasts, so we had that as common ground. Over the years we became incredibly close. I always called him my little brother (although I was only three months older than him).

"What the hell? We have known each other for almost a decade, and all I get is a 'What's up?' on my 18th birthday? Aw, Nikki you wound me. I think I am going to lie down and die now! My life is meaningless!" He said, with mock sincerity.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry! I can't believe I forgot! I just had a lot on my mind lately—"

"Naw, fuck it. I understand. I'm just playin." He laughed, "Just come over here ASAP I gotta show you something. My dad sent it to me from Japan. I know you're gonna love it!"

"Alright, I have to shower and get changed. I'll be there in 20."

"Make it twenty minutes, not hours. I know how you females are."

"Shut up Kenny." I giggled, (knowing the truth in his statement) as I hung up the phone. I quickly left my bed and jumped into the shower. I stayed in the shower a good fifteen minutes, five minutes away from giving validity to Kenny's theory. After I was done I put on my pink tube top, leather mini skirt, and black boots. I know what you're thinking. Why am I dressed up like I'm going to a club? Well, I had not done my laundry and I'd rather look like a club girl than homely on my best friend's birthday. I put on my make-up and went out the door.

As I descended the staircase I saw Aunt Dee-Dee staring at the television, The Real World was on. She loves that stupid show.

"Aunt Dee-Dee I'm going over to Kenny's house. Today is his birthday and he wants to show me something."

"You sure are dressed up to just be going down the street, aren't you?" She said, as a devilish smile alighted upon her lips.

"Don't start. Don't even start auntie!" I retorted.

Aunt Dee-Dee laughed, "See, that Kenny is a handsome boy. You should be talking to him, seriously. Everyone sees it but you." She said.

"Auntie, Kenny is like my brother. That would just be weird." I said as I pretended to shake off the heebie jeebies, "Besides, I have my reasons for not wanting to have it any other way." People always said that Kenny and I should hook up. In fact people always mistook us for a couple. However, it has always been strictly plutonic. Sometimes I got the feeling that Kenny wanted us to go all the way. He would find silly little reasons to call me, visit me, touch me, and at times I would catch him looking at me.

I have to admit that if I were to ever genetically engineer a boyfriend It would be Kenny. I died a thousand deaths whenever he went out with other girls. However, I was afraid of going there with him and messing things up...I always gave the same excuses, "The opportunity never presented itself," or, "I do not want to jeopardize what we have", and all that other cliché bullshit. The truth of the matter is that I did not want to get involved with someone who might stand in my way. A relationship meant physical and emotional intimacy. I knew the moment I revealed to Kenny my true intentions, regarding my mother's killer; he would try and dissuade me. I had come too far. I was not going to stop.

I walked out the front door, and went down the street. Kenny lived five doors down from me.

I went up the steps of the brownstone and knocked at the door. The door opened, and before me stood a pretty little Asian lady, Mrs. Lloyd, Kenny's mother. She had her beautiful raven hair done in a bun, and her round, luminous face, bore no trace of any cosmetics. She was five feet tall and very petite. The silken white robe that she wore came down to her tiny, neatly polished, toes.

"Hello Nikki, how are you today?" She asked, as a smile alighted upon her tiny lips. Now you might wonder how an Asian lady might have a last name like Lloyd. Well, Mrs. Lloyd was half Japanese and half Korean. She was born in Seoul, Korea but lived her entire life in Tokyo, Japan. Her real name was Akiko Yahmamoto. Everyone close to her called her 'Kitty'. Kitty's husband, Otis Lloyd—Kenny's father— was African American. Although she was multicultural Mrs. Lloyd was a traditional Japanese lady in every sense of the word. She was very quiet, polite, and well mannered. Mr. Lloyd was a very boisterous, fun loving, military guy. They seemed like the complete odd couple, but their relationship was so loving and affectionate. Their marriage was nearly thirty years strong so obviously they were doing something right.

Mrs. Lloyd owned a clothing Boutique in the neighborhood. She always gave me a discount on the new fashions. Knowing Kenny definitely had its perks.

"I'm fine Mrs. Lloyd. Is Kenny here?" I asked, already knowing that he was.

"Yes he is, please come in." She said.

I removed my boots and stepped inside the house. I loved their home. It was like stepping into a time warp. Whenever I went in I felt as if I had been transported through time to ancient Japan. Although the artwork and décor were predominantly Asian in origin there were African inspired pieces and modern day Americana strategically scattered about.

Mrs. Lloyd had an eye for design.

"Kentaro, Nikki is here to see you!" she rattled off in Japanese.

Fortunately, I could understand her. I took some Japanese in High school.

Almost immediately did Kenny come bounding down the stairs,

"What's up baby?" He said, as he quickly embraced me in a bear hug.

"Hey Birthday boy..." I said with a laugh, "Or should I say 'man' now?"

"See, what did I tell you? I told you to get here in twenty and it took you an hour and twenty!"

"Dang, Kenny I did not want to come over lookin hulled out. I had to freshen up. That is one thing you men need to learn about us women." I teased. I got nervous. For a second It felt like I was flirting with him.

Kenny had to be the perfect blend of both black and Asian. He had the most beautiful golden brown complexion. His lavish brown eyes did not resemble the almond shape of his mother's, but he did have her small mouth, beautiful smile, and cute nose. He was very tall—about 6'6—like his father. Kenny didn't have his dad's buff physique, however. He was rather slender and defined. He had on a white tank top that showed off his definition, quite impressively. Kenny had really great hair too. It was unusually dark, thick, and curly. He wore it in corn rows that reached down to his shoulder blades.

I had to admit that even though we were just friends I thought he was incredibly fine.

Kenny's full name was Kentaro Taneyoshi Lloyd. He liked going by Kenny because he got sick of everyone from around the way mispronouncing his name.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever...C'mon, you have got to see this." He said, with great enthusiasm. Kenny took me by my arm as we proceeded to go to his room.

"Kenny, aren't you going to invite Nikki to have some of your birthday Dinner?" Mrs. Lloyd asked.

"Ma that can wait..." Kenny said, in an annoyed tone. I had to giggle. I loved the dichotomy of Kenny's relationship with his parents. They reminded me of an urban, multicultural, version of Leave It to Beaver. I envied him at times because of that. I often wondered what it would have been like to have two parents, as opposed to a legal guardian.

"No, I insist. Besides, you can wait to show her your present. It isn't going anywhere." She said as she led us to the kitchen.

"Ken, I am kind of hungry. Maybe we should have a bite. It smells really good too." I said.

"Yeah, whateva..." He responded. I smiled. Kenny was not the most patient person.

The three of us sat down and ate the lavish dinner that Kenny's mother had cooked. Mrs. Lloyd had prepared a buffet of: Sushi, Oyakodon, Wakame, and Nikujaga (along with Birthday cake).

"This is wonderful Mrs. Lloyd." I said. I hadn't eaten since I left training earlier that day. So I tried my best not to inhale my food.

"Yeah ma, you served that up just right." said Kenny.

"Thank you so much, Nikki. Now I will let you two go and do whatever you were about to." She said. Mrs. Lloyd stood up and took our plates.

"Alright, let's go. I gotta show you this!" Kenny had the excitement of a man dying of thirst who had just stumbled upon a water cooler. He always got ultra hype whenever he had something that he knew I would like.

We both hurried up the stairs.

Kenny's room was total guy. It was a combination of: Martial arts dojo, Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue, and computer laboratory. Next to each Bruce Lee poster he had a poster of either Halle Berry, Paris Hilton (why guys think she is hot I will never know), Tyra Banks, or Carmen Electra. He was a computer whiz, so of course he had an elaborate workstation. His bed sat dead center amidst all the commotion. I often wondered how he could even sleep in there at times.

"Sit down. I know you are gonna trip when I show you this." He said, giving me a very mischievous grin. I sat on the bed and watched as he rummaged through his closet. My anticipation grew like a beanstalk, "Kenny hurry up." I said.

"Alright, close your eyes." He said.

"What?"

"Close your eyes or I'm not gonna show you." Kenny knew the suspense was killing me. He always enjoyed teasing me like that.

"Kenny stop playing!"

"I'm not showing you until you do."

Reluctantly I closed them.

"Alright, open them." He said.

I opened my eyes, "Oh my god..." I whispered.

"Impressive eh?" He asked, as a cocky grin touched the corners of his mouth.

"Where did you get it?" I asked, while reaching out to touch it.

"My dad Fed exed it to me from Tokyo. He is stationed there for the next month. It just got here today."

The blue trimmed scabbard was radiant. It was, perhaps, the most beautiful design I had ever seen on a sword casing. Many of the characters engraved on it were in Japanese, but a few words were in English...

"Too my son, with love, Dad..." Kenny said. The elation radiated from his face like a beacon.

"Let me see what the blade looks like." I literally began to tremble with enthusiasm. The Katana blade had always been my weapon of choice. There was something so elegant and alluring about it.

Kenny slowly unsheathed the sword. I had to squint my eyes, because the blade was so scintillating. The reflection blinded me for several seconds. Kenny pulled the sword out and held it up to examine.

"Kenny it is so beautiful," I was completely entranced. It was like the sword was a sorcerer and its spell held me enthrall, "What is that emblem on the side?"

Kenny turned it over, and his expression went from enthused to awestruck, "Oh shit!" he whispered.

"What is it?"

"Nikki, this is a Hattori Honzo sword. The lion emblem on the side is his mark. This is a fuckin Hattori Honzo sword!" He said, "Man, daddy came through big time!"

"Are you sure that is an authentic Honzo sword?" I asked. I grew up watching Hattori Honzo in old martial arts movies. In the films he was a master of sword forgery. It is said—in those cheesy Japanese samurai flicks—that if a warrior were in battle with god and possessed a Honzo sword that the warrior would surely draw blood from the almighty. I knew that Honzo was a real person, but if he were still alive he would be really old.

Kenny looked at me like I had just insulted him...

"I mean, not 'fake' but...be for real, Kenny. You know how people can replicate another creator's design. Like, remember when Polo shirts were too expensive, so people started wearing 'Bolo' shirts that only cost $2.99 at the flea market?" Kenny laughed outright at that.

"Anyway, didn't he swear a blood oath that he would never make another one?" I furthered, "In those old movies he said that he was tired of creating instruments of death. Why would he just give your dad a sword?"

"Well, this ain't a movie, and you may have a point. Only one way to find out. If this is Honzo steel the cut will be clean." Kenny said, as he went to his desk and removed a sheet of paper. He handed it to me.

"Drop it on top of the blade." He said.

I did. The sheet fluttered down like a falling leaf. When it touched the edge it was shorn completely in half. Both Kenny and I were dumbfounded.

It was a Hattori Honzo blade. I did not know for certain, but I have never beheld a sword—in all my life—that could cut like that.

"Kenny let me hold it." I said.

"Naw girl, get your own." He said, jokingly.

"Kenny, please?" I asked, "Anyway, you know I am way better with a sword than you are. Stick fighting is your thing."

"Alright, but be careful..."

Kenny handed me the blade. I wrapped my hands around the hilt and pulled it close to me. There is no way to describe how a Hattori Honzo sword feels in your hands. I can only compare it to borrowing silverware from a king or Queen. You don't feel worthy to use it but you relish the opportunity to do so anyway. The Katana was so light, but the steel was stronger than stone. I began to slice through the air with it. The steel did not make even the faintest sound.

"I cannot believe this..." I whispered. I turned to Kenny and looked at him, "Why would he break his oath?" I asked. It perturbed me because Samurai warriors were so honorable, so noble. I had always looked upon them with great reverence. It almost broke my heart to know that one would go back on his word. There had to be an explaination. Don't look at me crazy. I have a thing about being an honorable warrior.

"Maybe he didn't. He must have already made this one. I'll ask my dad where he got it from." Kenny replied.

Suddenly Kenny wrapped his arms around my waist and clasped his hands around mine, "Let me show you how to really use Honzo steel." He said, with a slight laugh.

I flinched, suddenly, when Kenny held the Katana with me. My heart started beating ever so quickly. But, I did not feel uncomfortable in the least. We moved the sword all over as we marveled at its simplistic beauty.

"Kenny, you are so lucky to own this..." I mused as I turned to face him. When I did his eyes met mine. The moment of eye contact seemed to last an eternity. Do you know how it is when you are with someone, and it seems like there is no one else in the entire world. That is how I felt. I held the blade out and away from us, to my left. Kenny leaned in, and I did not lean back. His lips touched mine as my eyelids slowly closed. The sword slid out of my grip and fell to the floor.

"Kenny?" The knock on the door startled me. I stepped away from Kenny, and just as quickly composed myself. Kenny was a bit frazzled, and a tad bit embarrassed.

"What is it ma?" He asked, somewhat annoyed.

"I wanted to know if you wanted anymore to eat. If not I am going to put everything away." She said through the door.

I started to giggle a little.

"No ma, I don't want anymore." He said.

"Nikki, do you want any?"

"No ma'am. Thanks anyway." I said.

Mrs. Lloyd walked away. Kenny and I stood there. The silence becoming painfully awkward.

"Nikki—" he started to say.

"I have to...go. My aunt is probably worrying about me right now." I said, as I fumbled with my braids. What had just happened was exactly what I didn't want to happen. It made me nervous as hell, but it felt so right. In fact I wanted him to kiss me again. However, logic and reason came into play. So I played it off and quickly changed the subject, "Oh, before I leave I need you to do me a favor..."

"Sure, what is it?" he asked, seemingly glad—yet disappointed.

"Could you do a web search on, "Willy Hudson" and "Vernita Green?" I need you to print up all the information that you can possibly find on those two names?" I said.

"Yeah, I can do that. What do you need to know about them?"

"Well, I met a guy yesterday who says that he knew my mother...The problem is that he knew my mother under a different name."

"What, she was using an alias?"

"I don't know. I don't know a lot of things anymore. At first I thought I had everything figured out, but I think I've barely scratched the surface." I said with a sigh, "Well at least it maybe a lead..."

"True. Maybe she was a spy for the CIA or something?" Kenny said jokingly. The intensity of the moment we shared finally began to subside. We were back to being Nikki and Kenny again.

"You think?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I just know that finding out about her means a lot to you. I can't blame you for wanting to know about where you came from. I can trace my roots all the way back to Feudal Japan on my mother's side. So, do what you have to do."

"Thanks Kenny. You always have my back." I said with a smile.

"Nikki, what are you gonna do when you are able to find the woman that killed her?"

"I don't know." I lied.

"Alright, you go home and I'll take care of this for you." He replied nonchalantly. Suddenly there was silence again. We stared at each other for several seconds. The moment had not gone, it only lie in wait to resurface, "Or you could stay here with me, and we could search together." He furthered.

I wanted to. I really did. Common sense told me better.

"No, I really need to split. You know how my Auntie is."

He smiled, "Yeah, I feel you on that."

"Okay, see you later Kenny. I hope you'll let me borrow that Honzo sword sometime?" I said, playfully.

"Anytime, you my girl, Nikki. I'll do anything for you." He said.

I walked out of his room and went back home. Tommorrow, I was going to meet Mr. Cutlass, whether Dee-Dee liked it or not. First, I had to think of a good lie.

To be continued.