A Monk Among Us

By David J. Brown

KIRKUS REVIEW: FOR NOVEL “A MONK AMONG US”
Brown’s debut novel offers the complicated romance of an extremely unlikely pair: an energetic, ambitious attorney and a spiritual, laid-back monk.
A gentle, contemplative man who calls himself Monk returns to his rough old neighborhood outside Bridgeport, Conn.—the very area where he once ran with a gang—to rehabilitate a building and establish a mission. Meanwhile, Lila’s old school friend suggests that she come to the Mission Center to volunteer at Thanksgiving, and she agrees; she’s on the fast track to make partner at her father’s law firm but yearns for more meaning in her life. When she meets Monk, the two seem at first to have nothing in common; Lila is prone to sarcastic quips and compulsive overwork, whereas Monk prefers deep, slow contemplation and doesn’t even own a phone, TV or computer. (Brown handles the familiar odd-couple gambit with straightforward ease, neither taking it for granted nor relying on it too heavily.) However, the simplicity of Monk’s life appeals to Lila (“I needed to shake someone’s hand and look that person in the eyes,” she tells him), and soon they spend a good deal of time together—including in bed, since Monk’s spiritual vows don’t include involuntary celibacy. Indeed, his skills at tantric endurance rituals ensure that Lila becomes a frequent visitor to his sparsely furnished Mission Center quarters. Through snappy dialogue and skilled use of secondary characters—particularly Lila’s volatile sister, Laura, and Laura’s young daughter, Kali—Brown infuses his story with humor and believability, even when the surprisingly crowded plot suddenly expands to include an accident, a hospital visit and a very unexpected, fundamental change in Lila’s personality. Anchoring the whole thing is Monk himself, always serene and yet always intriguingly human; his participation in a funeral service will likely stick with readers long after they’ve finished the book.
A well-done, ultimately uplifting novel about finding the courage to reinvent yourself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David J. Brown
• Release date: Dec 27, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311829122

David J. Brown

My name is David J. Brown. I have been an Adult Educator for over twenty years, currently providing college prep support for people in the medical field wanting to pursue higher education. My wife and I live in Central New York with our two cats. Our sons, Chris and Pat, are adults pursuing their own dreams as a medical doctor and videographer respectively. My passions are writing, gardening, and wine. I have previously published other books including: a romantic novel entitled, “A Monk Among Us”, and a first aid book entitled, “Don’t Panic”. The Sex and the Gang Girls submission is the first of three parts.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The letters on the book’s cover were left unread as Lila was content to let the spectrum of lights and shapes hold her attention without the need to bring thought to the significance of any symbols that might press her for meaning. She opened the hardback and let the weight of the book register, delighting in the simple sensation. Her glance swept across the page and this time the impact of the words jolted her back to reality and the book fell to the floor.

The feelings that arose from the moment left her uneasy as if she had seen a ghost. How could reading a few words generate such emotions, such force? When she allowed herself the sensation to stay in the moment, free of thought, she was carefree, maybe even happy, but she wasn’t sure. Such an occurrence was foreign to her and the idea of happiness was more of a concept then a state of being. She could not remember if she had ever felt what she had just experienced. There was no context for her to express what was happening to her.

After a couple of deep breaths, Lila felt brave enough to pick up the book and try to comprehend what upset her so much. The cover glistened in the light and the gold leaf calligraphic letters spelled out her name and the words, My Journal, sparkled with a colorful splendor. The sight of the cover made her feel peaceful, but her rational mind was puzzled as she was sure she had never purchased or ever saw the book that was now in her hand. She quickly flipped the book over to look at the back. There were no clues to help her solve the mystery. Lila then opened the front cover to look at the first page; there was nothing, not even one word inked on the sheet. She flipped through a number of pages only to realize all of the pages were blank. I suppose I must have wanted to write about something, Lila said to herself, although why she would want to write anything eluded her. Being sentimental or poetic was a sign of insecurity, she thought, and for her a complete waste of time, No way would she put her feelings to the page. After all she was a thoroughly modern woman, well educated, professionally well placed, and well off working as a lawyer at the largest firm, probably in the world. Being the best was all that mattered.

Still it was important for her to understand what just happened. Lila lost herself for a second, which she admitted wasn’t accurate as time seemed to be suspended. Lapsing into a daydream state was so unlike her and sensing a flash of contentment seemed even more bizarre. Was she losing her mind, was she drunk or drugged? There must have been some reason and she was determined to find the truth.

The best place to start was back at the book shelf where the light seemed to mesmerize her. Lila looked out the window to see if there was something out of the ordinary about the sunlight. The blinds were pulled up and the curtain drawn. Hmm, nothing there, she mouthed and then traced the beams of light to the bookshelf to decide if the light was playing a trick on her mind. All that Lila saw was a few rows of books that probably should have been dusted and then made a note to self, Yes, dust books on bookshelves. After a slightly anxious pause, she pulled the very book from the shelf that startled her then turned back the cover: the page was blank. A thorough examination required that she continue to turn pages and found the second and third pages blank. Satisfied there was nothing to learn, Lila snapped the book shut and was about to return the book to the shelf when she was compelled to take one last glance. Again, she bent back the cover and the page was blank, but this time the second and third pages had writing on them. There wasn’t just writing, but it was in Lila’s own hand writing. Totally freaked, she once again dropped the book and ran out of the room.

What the hell? she yelled to no one there.

Nothing in Lila’s life had ever left her in a cold sweat trembling with such uncertainty, and there was no room for such feelings in her life. No one could ever see her in such a moment of weakness. In her profession any hesitation or indecision would ruin her. She always had to be on guard yet remain cool, level-headed, and above all self-assured, often with billions of dollars of a bank’s or even a country’s reputation at stake. Such an upsetting experience demanded she get herself drunk and pass out to face the world tomorrow.

Chapter 2

The bounty of this season’s harvest was the best ever. Monk had been able to enjoy fresh vegetables on a daily basis since the middle of May and now at the beginning of October his garden was overflowing with tomatoes, peppers, beans, and squash. Life was good and for all of the assumptions of the dangers of inner city living Monk had never felt more connected to his community than he did now. That wasn’t always the case. When Monk moved into his place ten years ago, he knew it was in one of the toughest neighborhoods in the city of Bridgeport and probably in all of Connecticut. He recalled that on the first day he was looking over the land he would eventually buy, neighborhood thugs paid him a visit.

Yo, my man whacha doin’ in my hood? Two strangers approached him.

Good morning, gentlemen, Monk said with a big smile. Monk was a tall man and towered over these two men, but he knew they could be dangerous if he didn’t play it cool. He summoned all of his attention to the moment and maintained a connection to the spiritual aspect of his nature.

What the fuck, we ain’t no gentlemen… what the hell kinda shit threads is this? the taller man said as he tugged at Monk’s robe.

It’s a robe and I am a Monk.

You mean like a padre…a priest? one of them asked.

Yeah, something like that…I am thinking of buying this land to build my monastery and help out at the mission, Monk suggested.

The man’s got jokes, no one comes buying shit in my hood lesses he wants to get fucked up, the shorter man, The Raptor, threatened. Monk knew they were both aching for a fight, but stayed calm and waited for a proper response, one that would ease the tension and help the men relate to him more as a brother than a threat.

You’re right, I was fucked up. Now I’m trying to get clean and bring a little light to the hood, Monk replied.

You don’t sounds like no priest. Dog-Gee, the taller man glared at Monk.

I was tough like you once…used to live just a few blocks over. Did you ever hear of the Gook leader named, Ray, the king of the lower Balsam? I used to roll with him. Monk said, appealing to them as fellow warriors.

You was a Gook? Dog-Gee asked.

Yeah, I did a little work for him, but I’m a new man now. I’m starting over living the righteous life.

I heard the whole gang was sent to the Big House, recalled the Raptor

Yeah, I’ve done time and I got even more fucked up doing smack, but I’m clean now. Monk said without judgment, perhaps engaging them to dream along with him about leaving the street life.

Smack - that’s rough shit. I don’t do no smack; I’m a business man first, Dog-Gee said and Monk had to agree. Luckily for Monk he only had heroin once. The experience was so bad and his body reacted so violently that he had had an epiphany about how the body knew what was best. Monk recognized that if he maintained an awareness of what his body was telling him, he could make his way out of his self inflicted morass. He had been ‘listening’ ever since.

So you won’t mind if I make myself at home? Monk asked.

You want to live in this hole? There ain’t nothin’ but rocks, trash, and dog shit; and probably some homeless shit too, Dog-Gee stated.

I’m also a business man. I can get the land for almost nothing. That’s a good deal, said Monk.

Have at it, my man, Dog-Gee replied.

Please call me Monk.

Monk, that’s dope. I’m Dog-Gee and this here is, The Raptor.

Nice talking with you, Monk said extending a fist for the two men to bump, which they did.

Peace out man. We’ll check in on ya…Oh… Monk, one more thing…is you black, nigga? Dog-Gee asked.

Yeah, a little, I’m a mongrel; I’ve got everything, maybe even some Korean, Monk replied.

No shit, you playin’? Me too, said The Raptor, connecting to Monk at a deeper level. In this case it was all a happy coincidence, but when Monk drew from spirit, good things just happened.

Word, no joke man, Monk promised.

That is dope man; we’re outta here. Later! Dog-Gee exclaimed. Monk just waved.

A few years later, Dog-Gee was killed and The Raptor went to jail. Monk survived by his conservative lifestyle of simple living. Also, by wearing the traditional and unassuming robe of a monk, people felt a level of reverence when in his company. He earned his reverence by living his life free of judgment of the way others lived, staying in the present, and not taking any words or actions by others personally. Every interaction had to begin in spirit so that as a monk he could try to bring a more soulful presence to the moment without fear and free of any materialistic intentions. He had brought a sense of peace to the neighborhood and people eventually sought Monk out for counsel.

Chapter 3

The blare of the insidious noise screeching from her alarm clock jolted Lila out of bed and compelled her to violently pound the pad of the snooze button that mercifully restored relative quiet. Her heart was beating rapidly with the rhythm of her alcohol induced headache. She knew hitting the snooze button was not enough, so she had to shut the alarm off completely, but was afraid the clock would blast her again as it if it knew she was trying to shut it down. Why do I put up with a machine that makes me so violent?, she would ask herself only to answer that at some level she liked how it revived her, similar to the way a paramedic might defibrillate someone back to life. Lila even bought the alarm, called the punch clock, because of the large fist sized pad built to withstand the pounding of a tightly clenched fist from a highly agitated, once peaceful, sleeper.

As Lila stood up, she was horrified that she was still in her clothes from yesterday. The disturbing mind games she experienced shook her to her core and she must have collapsed on her bed after quite a snoot full of apple martinis and manhattans made from her extremely well stocked bar in her bedroom. Rarely would she go to sleep clothed, unless she was entertaining herself with lingerie. Restoring discipline, Lila removed her clothing and placed them neatly over the back of a chair. She caught a glimpse of her nude body in the mirror and smiled. The money Lila put into her self-image was worth every penny and even she couldn’t resist thinking of the word ‘sexy’ to describe herself. Even after a night of drunken sleep her thick and wavy soft black hair cascaded gently over her shoulders down to the small of her back. Her face and neck were smooth, clear of any blemishes and without a hint of wrinkles, thanks to a little nip and tuck.

She would have never apologized for any artificial procedure that would enhance her God-given beauty, which would certainly explain how she went from a size A to C cup. Lila’s plastic surgeon did a masterful job altering her breasts so they appeared more natural having kept the edges of the silicon orbs from interrupting the flawless transition from her shoulders to her waist. The rest of her body - arms, abs, butt, and legs - were shapely and muscular from a daily regimen of exercise and athletic activities, such as racquetball and tennis, both available in the fitness club just ten floors below her penthouse apartment. In short, she was a goddess, perhaps Aphrodite herself, but her appreciation of her own beauty was not vanity. Looking her best was a professional requirement; like it or not she was a woman who had to be strong, feminine, and smart in all ways. She gave everything to her job and enjoyed the prestige of being the best attorney at the most prestigious firm. So there was no chance that thoughts of the mysterious journal would take up any more of her gray matter.

It was time for her to get ready for work. Lila showered, careful not to get her hair wet. With just liquid soap on her hands, she would lather her skin head to toe without using a washcloth. A better name for them, she thought, were rags, which were too often wet, filled with mold, mildew, and bits of dirt and skin, disgusting; she would have none of that on her body. Carefully Lila glided her soap laden hands around her face and neck and then proceeded to wash the rest of her body. She had to hurry, because the hot water was running out. Imagine a place that cost her $20,000 a month and she couldn’t even take a shower for ten minutes! She made a note to self: Call custodial services to fix shower.

Lila stepped out of the shower to dry herself off with a towel having checked all the while for some imperfection in her skin and discovered that her bright red toenail polish was chipping. That was a flaw and if she wasn’t running late she would have painted her toes herself. The best she could do was to make a note to self, Call for pedicure appointment.

When she completed her bathroom activities, Lila began the ritual of dressing for work. As a professional, a lawyer, Lila had to present herself impeccably with every stitch; every accessory had to reinforce the necessity of being taken seriously. People were obsessed with detail in her line of work and anything out of place meant the loss of millions, perhaps billions of dollars. Everything from her hair to the shine on her shoes had to add to the impression of someone with complete confidence and in control, especially for a woman. Men in her profession, perhaps unwittingly, would prejudge any woman and not take her contribution with high regard. Lila knew such interactions were stacked against her, which was exactly why she used her God given beauty to at least even the playing field.

When Lila entered a room, everyone would be struck, even stunned by her silky, thick, wavy black hair and her fresh, radiant face. Her eyes sparkled, adding to the glow of her light brown flawless skin. She always wore a white buttoned-down blouse with some furl or ruffle to enhance her feminine figure without revealing any cleavage. The ruffles would be highlighted based on the season: for spring, yellow; for fall, a deep red; and for summer and winter, off white. Her wool gabardine jackets and pants would be in neutral colors such as grey, black, navy blue, and tan. There was no place in her professional wardrobe for skirts of any length. Lila, an avid fan of Mary Lou Andre, the wardrobe guru of the successful professional woman, had the philosophy that, Less skin equals more power, which Lila subscribed to wholeheartedly. Also at 5’8", Lila stood tall with no need to heighten and therefore kept her heels at two inches or less. With her wardrobe complete she was off to start her day.

Lila was an associate with Braum and Marshall, and was on track to becoming the youngest full equity partner in the firm’s long and distinguished history. With over 12,000 employees and 84 offices around the world, Braum and Marshall was by far the largest law firm in the world operating in 70 countries, something Lila was quite proud of mentioning often in even the most casual of conversations.

When she got to her office, Lila was all business, starting with a quick meeting with her four paralegals and her administrative assistant. They would go over all open cases, provide status reports, and any next steps in plans of action. Next she was off to a meeting with Allen Marshall, the co-founder of the firm, the director of the Finance Law Division, and her boss. Lila was one of ten lawyers who worked exclusively with international clients that wanted to do business with American government agencies or corporations. She briefed Mr. Marshall and the staff on all of her cases, reviewing strategies and concerns. As an aside, Mr. Marshall was a close friend of her father’s and was perhaps more like an uncle to Lila than her boss, but in no way did he show any favoritism; Lila had earned respect from all of her colleagues, and was taken seriously. No one messed with Lila, no one. The rest of the days were spent meeting new clients, following up with old cases, appearing in court when needed, coordinating with colleagues overseas, travelling overseas if necessary, and finding new clients. She was a very busy person and sought for her legal mind and expertise in international monetary law and governmental procedures both foreign and domestic.

Chapter 4

The canopy of starlight began to fade with the shadowy blush of daybreak. Monk lay motionless on his bed staring into the morning sky through the sun roof to witness the peaceful transfer from night to dawn to daylight all on display with a full palette of hues and shades of color available to paint the morning sky. This was a rare treat for Monk; most mornings broke with the dance of light hidden by cloud cover. Today, however, Monk was able to participate in the glorious unfolding of life with the full exhibit of the cosmos serving a dramatic entrance to the dawn’s first light.

In Monk’s life such poetic affirmations were commonplace as he routinely connected as often as he could to each creating moment, with the next moment waiting just outside his door.

Monk, are you up? Sheila asked.

Yes, Sheila, come on in. Sheila was also a monk and lived next door. She stood a petite five feet two inches, a striking contrast to Monk’s six feet one inch frame. Monk preferred a shaved head while Sheila opted for the buzz cut. She never wore makeup yet had a beautiful well-tanned face. Her lashes were naturally long and surrounded small blue colored eyes. Her face was creased at the edges of her cheeks carved by the smiles that never seemed to leave her cheerful countenance. Having fully embraced her monk lifestyle, she too wore the traditional light brown pleated robe with sandals as footwear, much the same as Monk.

They had known each other for over eight years and remained the best of friends. They both rose from the ashes of the bonfire of addiction to find themselves and each other to create lives more spiritual in nature. They shared everything and were committed to living lives of simplicity, chastity, and generosity. So it was no wonder that as morning broke Sheila was there at Monk’s door to share something… something wonderful no doubt.

Oh… you’re still in bed, Sheila stated.

Yeah, Mother Nature put on an amazing show and I just had to be a part of it. What can I do for you? Monk said sitting up in his bed.

I just wanted to share some thoughts. I wrote a poem. Sheila read the following:

BEING

I asked Spirit

to teach me BEING

I was shown the timeless moment

NO Thought

GREAT Stillness

SENSING ONLY

Clock ticking

wind blowing

train whistling

wheels clacking

Accepting All As IS

Contentment, Cohesiveness

Essential Self

separate from thought

living under the doing, planning, remembering

Just to the right of my heart.

Continuous, Never Changing

I was moved by the morning light show as well, Sheila said, delighting in the moment.

So exquisitely poetic. Thank you for sharing that, Monk affirmed.

You should see all of the tomatoes coming in; it is truly unbelievable! Sheila gushed, not wanting her time with Monk to end.

I’ll meet you outside, let me get ready, Monk sat at the edge of the bed.

Have a good shower! See ya, Sheila said. As she left waving her hand she gave Monk a loving smile.

Chapter 5

After the nonstop frenzy of a demanding clientele and the endless string of meetings, briefings, and depositions, Lila was ready for a night on the town with her best friend Allyson, an executive with the largest bank in the world and legally represented by the firm where Lila worked. Professionally they rarely had to work together, but their paths crossed enough that they became fast friends who would go out at least once a week to drink, gossip, meet, and tease the hundreds of men who dared to show any sexual interest in either of the two goddesses.

Do you see anything you like? Allyson looked over the men sitting at the bar.

Maybe, let’s see who will be brave enough to approach us. Lila, when looking for ‘fun’, always frequented lounges housed in the lower floor of one of the many hotels in the financial district of Lower Manhattan. Not only that, but the man she would choose must be from out of town and be leaving New York the next day. She wanted no complications, just to have her fun and be done; it was a way of life for her and very important for her independence and career. A tall man wearing sunglasses dressed completely in white from his high-collared shirt and jacket to his high gloss shoes approached Allyson and Lila.

Get a load of this guy. Lila said, leaning close to Allyson’s ear.

He looks like a mafia hit-man from Miami, Allyson noted and they both started laughing.

May I buy you ladies a drink, he said in a mellifluous Spanish accent, causing both women to stare at their guest.

Uh…sure, Allyson said with a pleasant smile on her face. I’ll have a pińa colada, thank you. She was totally smitten.

Seńorita, bring mi amiga una piña colada, por favor. The seńor said sweetly to the waitress, who acknowledged his request with a nod and a smile, Muchas gracias, he added.

Oh my, I love your accent, Allyson said dreamily.

Gracias, usted es muy bonita, Allyson just blushed and looked away, while the señor turned to Lila.

What would you like to drink, Seńorita? he asked Lila.

I’m fine, Lila said, not wanting to interfere with Allyson’s interest in the man. Lila had other plans and could not trust a man who wore sunglasses indoors no matter his accent. While Allyson and her man got acquainted Lila scanned the bar for a potential sexual companion. She would rely on her ability to read people by looking into their eyes. There was much to tell by the way a man held his gaze. He had to be confident enough to look at her without a need to dominate or distract her with conversation. She found a candidate and left the table without saying goodbye, which Allyson greatly appreciated, such was the unspoken bond between them.

Lila found a seat at the bar next to the man who held her interest and waited for him to look at her. At six feet five inches, he towered over his rivals, and his blond hair set him even more apart. His athletic build filled out his suit so well, that every movement created the illusion that his clothing was actually attached to his muscular frame. She stared at him for several seconds without saying anything; he turned around and locked his gaze onto Lila armed with a smile. From that exchange she knew he was the one she would have tonight.

Well hello, Lila said.

How do you do? he said formally.

Very well, thank you, Lila politely acknowledged. So what brings you to the city?

I am here to close a real estate deal for my client, and you? he asked.

Really, where are you from? Lila pressed, avoiding his question.

Huh…uh from D.C., he said.

So you’ll be here awhile? Lila inquired.

Actually, I go home tomorrow after a short meeting, But I’ll stay if you want, he suggested.

Are you staying here at the hotel? Lila asked.

I’m on the top floor with an amazing view. I’d love to show it to you, he said, taking his shot.

Great, let’s go, Lila had all the information she needed. He passed the test so onto the next phase. She got off her bar stool and headed into the lobby; the man stood up, threw some money on the bar, and followed Lila. There she headed to the coat check room, gave the clerk her ticket, placed a ten in the tip jar, took her jacket from the clerk, then wrapped it over her arm. The man looked at her with fascination over the precision of movements Lila displayed in doing even the most mundane of activities, such as retrieving her coat. When she was ready, he led the way to the elevators. Once they got on the elevator and the doors had closed, Lila stepped into the man’s space and planted her lips on his. He was taken aback a bit by her aggressive actions.

Whoa, you sure are in a hurry, he was taken aback by her forward actions.

No talking, Lila said, pressing into his lips again. He accepted his reality and wrapped his arms around her to return the kiss. When the elevator doors opened on his floor, Lila released her lips and gestured to the man to proceed to his hotel room. His room was only three doors away from the elevator, which was perfect for Lila who could easily find her way off the floor when it was time for her to make her escape.

Once inside his room, Lila threw her purse and jacket on top of a small table, pried off her shoes, and placed them under the table. She continued to undress and noticed the man just staring at her in disbelief.

What are you waiting for? Get undressed, Lila said a little annoyed. Each item of her outfit was carefully placed on the table so she would know exactly where everything would be when the time came for her to leave. The whole process had a clinical feel to it, so much so that as soon as the man removed his pants and underwear she pushed him onto the bed with his socks and t-shirt still on his body. Lila jumped on top of him and straddled his hips, realizing that his penis was not erect. Apparently she had to help her companion along and leaned into him pressing her genitals against the limp organ while softly gliding her lips over his.

The sensation she created was enough for his manhood to respond and when he was firm enough she soaked her fingers with her saliva. She slipped her hand between her legs, used her wet digits to moisten her genitals, and inserted two fingers into her vagina to ensure she was lubricated enough to receive his hard member. When satisfied she was wet enough, she returned her fingers to her mouth for a second shot of saliva, which she used to wet down the head of his penis. The sensation of her hand on his genitals caused him to moan and then she grabbed the shaft and guided it between the labia and into the vaginal opening. She quickly pressed downward to push the penis all the way in and starting gyrating her hips

With her eyes closed and her hands placed on the man’s chest, she starting pushing herself up then pressing down to create the exact sensation she needed to orgasm. As long as the man did not pre-ejaculate she could achieve her objective in a relatively short time span, no more than three minutes. As her body responded to the pressure and stimulation of her movements, the motion of her up and down strokes became more urgent and she added some side to side action with her hips. Her body tightened and her muscles had begun to spasm as her sexual tension rose to the breaking point. She let out a long guttural moan, Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…, then opened her eyes and shook her head to bring herself back down from her sexual high.

That was nice, he said, apparently having an orgasm as well, although it never mattered to Lila if her partners came or not; she got what she wanted and no man ever complained.

That was good, thanks. She said as she pulled herself off of the man, headed for the bathroom, and grabbed her clothes on the way. Lila urinated, washed her genitals thoroughly, splashed a little water on her face, put on her clothes, and returned to the main room. The man was still on the bed staring at the ceiling, apparently pleased with what just transpired. While Lila put on her shoes, she picked up her jacket and purse, and said, It was nice to meet you - take care, then left the room to make her way out of the hotel.

Hey… wait…what’s your name? he said, but by then she was out the door. Once outside his door she quickly moved to the elevator and luckily found one that was available. As she entered the elevator her thoughts were on Allyson, hoping she was having a good time, but also hoping she was free to do a little bar hopping. When the elevator door opened on the lobby floor, Lila headed to the lounge room to look for Allyson. She was still there and alone, Perfect, she thought to herself.

Allyson, hi… what happened to your friend? Lila asked.

It turns out he’s married, so I told him to leave. What happened to your man? Allyson asked.

Nothing, we had our time together, Lila said nonchalantly.

Seriously, you’re done. That must have been terrible, Allyson assumed.

I got what I wanted, but we’re going to have to leave. He might come down again. Are you up for it? Lila prompted.

Why not, maybe I’ll actually find a good man, Allyson conceded.

That’s funny; you should have gone for the married guy. They don’t want any complications either, Lila observed.

Don’t you want somebody in your life that might care for you? Allyson asked with genuine concern for Lila.

My life is perfect and with you here, my night is perfect as well…Maybe I’ll find you a man that wants to share your life with you…I’m kidding; there aren’t that many days in the year for that to happen, Lila said with a discouraging tone.

You’re so cynical and you’re probably right, but I’m hoping, Allyson tried not to give in to Lila’s negative take on men.

You are such a dreamer. Next three drinks are on me, Lila offered.

Yahoo, Allyson said sarcastically, but went with Lila anyway.

Chapter 6

She met Monk over eight years ago and reflected how she would not recognize her former self compared to the soul she was now and the life she had so firmly embraced. Sheila remembered the scene well: she was riding a bus wearing tight pink sweats, a navy blue sweater, and white sneakers with red socks. Her hair was bleached blond with black roots desperately in need of a severe touch up. The thick black mascara covered her eyes like a mask. There were metal piercings in her nose, lips, ears, and tongue and she wore three heavy gold painted chains around her neck.

Whenever she rode the bus she would stand by the back door usually with one foot on the exit steps ready for a quick escape if need be. Bus etiquette demanded that all bus riders keep to themselves and mind their own business, which suited Sheila just fine. Unfortunately two large heavily tattooed men decided to make Sheila their business. One of the men stepped into the stairwell to block her escape route while the other one pressed up against her from behind.

Hey baby, I’ve got something for you. He grabbed her butt cheeks with both hands.

Fuck off, Sheila yelled, swinging her arm hoping to get some attention, but no one looked her way, not even the bus driver.

Yo bitch, you don’t mouth off to me ya’ hear? He grabbed her by the throat with one hand and put the other hand between her legs. Sheila was afraid. From out of nowhere a hero arrived.

May I have everyone’s attention, please just a moment of your time? The man that had grabbed Sheila let go of her throat, but kept his hands on her back and turned his angry gaze toward the speaker. There before him stood a bald man in a pleated robe with both of his arms raised and looking at all of the riders.

What the fuck, man? he asked.

"Oh excuse me, sir; this will only take a moment. Ladies and Gentlemen, especially the ladies, ladies I need you to do me a huge favor. We have a