Deceitful Desires

By Douglas J. Knox

"Deceitful Desires" tells the story of a young man who makes all the wrong decisions. He spends his early twenties hanging out with friends, and chasing women while struggling to find his way in life. In an attempt to finally settle down, he marries. Though he realizes he married for all the wrong reasons, a return to his childhood church prompts him to try what seemed impossible to him; a monogamous relationship with his wife. All that remains to be seen now is; Will this change become permanent, or will he return to his old ways?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 4, 2006
• ISBN: 9781462837922

Douglas J. Knox

Douglas J. Knox was born and raised in Rochester, New York. He discovered his writing abilities at a young age when his essay about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was chosen for publication in a book featuring winners of an elementary school writing contest. From that day writing became his passion. With encouragement from his family, he began to write stories about his own life (with a twist) in order to entertain many. From these stories arose “Deceitful Desires.”

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Copyright © 2006 by Douglas J. Knox.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

Conversations

Booby Prize

Warning Signs

All That Glitters . . .

Settling Down

Regular Old Crackers

Gold Today, Gone Tomorrow

Stop Listening, and Hear

The Same Issues

The fall of a Player

Seven is Completion

Conversations

In my opinion, every man and woman wants to meet someone special, fall in love, get married, and hopefully spend the rest of their lives together. Unfortunately, in this day and age, that scenario rarely happens. And when it does, it’s usually in the movies and fairy tales. Sorry to say, this isn’t the story fairy tales are made of. It’s the story of a confused young man who follows the wrong path, and ends up in a dead end. That confused young man was none other than me, Josias Crawford. And the only thing that I was ready to be committed to was an insane asylum for even entertaining the thought of marriage. Sure, plenty of people have gone down that happy road to marriage and have had a lifetime joy ride, but in my case; I just went along for the ride and ended up in a car wreck. Not badly injured and able to walk away with minor scrapes and bruises, I learned from my blunder and wondered why I put myself in that situation to begin with. Besides, it wasn’t as if I was desperate and had to settle. At 5’6", and a slightly muscular 135lbs., I had no trouble pulling my share of some of the finest women any man had ever laid eyes on. Occasionally, I would let a few trolls and dragons slip through the cracks, but that was due to alcoholic persuasion, sex deprivation, or plain stupidity. I’m not saying that I was all that, but women were very attracted to me. Maybe, it had something to do with my dark brown eyes, long eyelashes, honey colored complexion, and natural curly hair. Whatever it was, they were biting and I didn’t mind being the bait.

However, I allowed myself to be the bait once too often, and ended up getting snagged by someone that was a cross between a troll, and a dragon. Alright, I exaggerate, but the woman I married wouldn’t have been my first choice if some unforeseen circumstances hadn’t claimed my bachelor status. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been her first choice either, but fate had a twisted sense of humor and decided to throw us together anyway. I’ve tried to force the images out of my head, but I can vividly recall how the whole mess got started.

January, 1993. The beginning of a new year, and things were starting to look the same for me as they did the previous year. I had no job, I lived at home with my parents, and my current girlfriend was AWOL. I hadn’t heard from Dana since we talked New Years day, and was really starting to not care if she came back from Atlanta at all. In my eyes, our relationship was dying anyway. During our four months together we had spent nearly everyday talking on the phone, or having sex. After awhile I had become quite bored with the usual, and desperately needed a change of scenery.

However, it was painfully obvious that I had grown attached to having Dana around to fulfill my needs, and couldn’t bring myself to end the charade especially since I didn’t have a back up plan. The back up plan is the first rule I learned about dating; never break up with your current girlfriend unless you have another one waiting in the cut.

Sadly, I didn’t have another girl on the side which is why I spent so many evenings at home watching movies or music videos once Dana left. But on that cold January day, I had my share of sitting at home alone watching the same crap over and over again. So, I decided to leave the four walls of my bedroom for at least an hour and pay my homeboy Corey a visit.

Good old Corey Blake. The closest friend I had, and was always down to get into something no matter what the situation. Although he was younger in age, his mind was a lot older when it came to knowledge of the streets, and running game on women. He was more of a hustler, and the type that could convince nearly anyone to do his bidding, especially the ladies.

Corey was a handsome, high yellow brother that had convinced himself that he was God’s gift to women and had no problem repeating that to himself, or to anyone who would listen. I believe he made up in talking for what he lacked in stature. We both were the same height, and weighed nearly the same. However, our personalities were like night and day. I was the laid back, quiet, smooth brother that was supposed to kill ’em with my looks. You know, the pretty boy that could use his looks to get exactly what he wanted. Yeah, right! In the early days I was very nervous around females, and contrary to what everyone thought, I had no experience talking to them. My game was non existent. What’s your name? Phone number? And do you have a boyfriend was pretty much it for me. After that, I was lost, unless I was drinking. Yeah, put a couple of drinks in me, and I could out talk a politician, and smooth talk a virgin right out of her panties.

Corey was the exact opposite, and didn’t need alcoholic persuasion to help with his game. He was a helpless extrovert who only needed to wake up in the morning to gain motivation. His goals in life were simple. Keep a phat ride, his hair faded, his gear tight, and mack as many women as superhumanly possible. Because in Corey’s eyes, a mere mortal couldn’t have as many women as he had without having some sort of super power. He was a loud mouth, conceited jerk at times, but he was my boy through and through.

Making my way through the snow covered streets; it was about six when I finally made it to Corey’s. However, five minutes after leaving the coziness of my bedroom, the frigid night air almost made me retreat back to the comfort of my four walls. After ringing the bell and knocking for what seemed an eternity, I was starting to believe I had made a wasted trip and wanted to kick myself for not calling first. That is, until I peeked in the driveway and spotted his car. Corey never went anywhere without driving, even if it was to the corner store. Who could blame him? If I was driving a BMW, I’d drive to the corner store too.

Corey’s dad just popped up one day and handed him the keys. Most kids get new cars for graduation or something, but Corey got a car just because he was a spoiled brat. Either that or his father felt he owed him for not being around most of his life. In any case, I felt a BMW was a hell of a guilt gift. I often wished my good for nothing father would pop up and hand me the keys to an expensive car, but that would mean his staying out of jail for longer than two minutes to accomplish that.

Still in thought, I hadn’t realized Corey had finally answered the door which left me somewhat startled.

Yo, what up playa?

What up C . . . You busy dogg? I answered.

Corey hesitated before responding. Mmmm, sumthin’ like that.

Feeling like I was intruding, I apologized for just popping up.

Naaah, don’t sweat that. I’m just ’bout to finish things up and send ol’ girl on her way. Why don’t you pop in a movie or something? Corey said, pointing at his vhs collection. Make yourself at home playa, relax ya feet, and grab somethin’ to drink or whatever . . . you know where the fridge at.

Not that I was complaining . . . Okay, I was. I couldn’t believe I had walked all the way over there to do the same thing I was doing in the comfort of my own bedroom . . . watching movies. Man, I had to get a life. My only consolation to how my evening was going is that we would hang out, and find some females to chill with once his date left. Besides, it was still early and the malls didn’t close until nine-thirty. That left plenty of time, and was the perfect spot to hook up with some honeys.

Still bored, I would doze off every few minutes with my mind wandering in between nods, and wondered what I was doing with my life besides wasting it away. I had considered college, but that idea lasted all of an inhale of breath. Up to that point in my life, all I had done was smoke weed, drink forty’s, and make booty calls. Besides a short stint in the Marine Corps, I had done nothing! My life was a car wreck, and reminded me of an old Otis Redding song. You know, Sittin’ on the dock of the bay, watching the tide roll away, sittin’ on the dock of the bay, wastin’ time. The only difference is that I never sat on the docks watching the tide roll away. I just sat on my butt, watching movies, and life roll away. Within an hour of sitting and wasting more time, the movie ended up watching me. Eventually Corey had reappeared except he wasn’t alone. His date for the evening was following close behind, and since she had served her purpose . . . it was check out time.

After a very brief introduction, she was out the door. I don’t know that I should have been surprised, but I was. Corey never bothered to offer home girl a ride home, so I had to ask what the deal was. Yo C, ol’ girl got a car right?

Corey looked at me with a straight face and answered coldly, Uhh no, she catching the bus! Nah, you playin right? It’s cold out there dogg!

"Yeah . . . it is cold ain’t it? Corey said, before continuing. What I got to give her a ride for . . . she ain’t my woman!"

I just looked at Corey and shook my head. What? He asked, innocently. That’s foul man, what side of town she stay on?

I dunno somewhere cross-town . . . I think, Corey said, raising his hands and shrugging his shoulders.

Quickly changing the subject, Corey asked what was up for the rest of the night, and I suggested that we hang out at the mall for a little while.

Sounds good, let me wash up real quick and we can bounce, Corey said before heading towards the bathroom.

While Corey was washing up, I turned off the movie and grabbed a soda out the fridge. He returned about ten minutes later rejuvenated and raring to go. Grabbing his coat, he started talking again. I was thinking ’bout paging you after I got rid of her but . . .

I could sense another joke about my pager was coming. Corey always clowned me about my big, outdated pager. It looked more like a garage door opener than the device it was actually made for, and Corey would remind me of that fact every chance he got.

For real, Corey said, trying to sound sincere without much success.

I tried earlier, but what had happened was . . . I dialed your number, and my garage door opened. Corey bust out laughing as we headed down the steps of his apartment.

All I could do was stand there and say, Whatever man. As we walked to the driveway, Corey grabbed the pager from my hip.

J, I know you needed a pager but dang! You couldn’t wait until ya money was right to get a better one?

Man, you know my mom’s be trippin’ about females callin’ da house. I had to get something . . . quick. This is all I could afford at the time. Still holding my pager, and looking at it like it was a side show exhibit, Corey pressed the light button.

Daaang! he yelled. I gave Corey that What the hell is wrong with you look, but he was just being silly again.

I’ll be alright man, he said through fake tears. "The light from your pager just blinded me for minute, that’s all. I think I burned my retinas from looking at this flashlight on your pager that’s supposed to be a night light."

I just looked at Corey and called him a freaking crack head. Naturally, he found that funny too. That’s when I realized Corey smoked way too much weed.

Always the clown, he kept the atmosphere lighthearted. It was hard to be down, or depressed around him. But, I had to pay him back for the pager comment because his so called date for the evening wasn’t the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on. As soon as Corey opened the car door, I asked him what her name was as if I had forgotten. Feeling something was up; he was hesitant about telling me.

Her name is Tiara, why?

Her name was the perfect opening. Matter of fact, the door was kicked in, and I jumped in like vice on a drug bust.

"Uhh playa, I’m glad her name is Tiara, ’cause that’s about as close as she gone come to wearin’ one. She ain’t winning no beauty pageants no time soon with that prison inmate face . . . she’s just so manly," I teased.

"Oh, you playin’ right? I know you ain’t trying to dis me about no females. Let’s not talk about all the blind, crippled, and crazy females you done been with."

Man, you know that ain’t true, I ain’t never been with no blind girls. Hmmm, might be interesting though.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. I see you ain’t say nothin’ about never being with a crippled or crazy girl," Corey said.

"That’s because I have. I had this one girl that was both crazy and crippled. She was crazy for the simple fact that she thought I wanted to be with her for reasons other than sex. And she was so cross eyed that every time we slept together she would look at me and say "Why you bringin’ other people into the bedroom? You know I don’t get down like that!"

Corey erupted into uncontrollable laughter, and called me a crack head in return as we got in his car and made tracks for the mall. Once we got there, we looked around and knew we wouldn’t be staying long. Our expressions were like Dang, where all the honeys at? Other than shopping, we had no other reason to go to the mall. And since neither of us had cash on us, we were definitely looking for honeys. Disappointed that all the females either had curfews that night or were at a party that we didn’t know about, Corey and I decided to bounce. It was only nine-thirty and a Thursday night, so there was no way either of us was going home that early. I didn’t have a job to worry about, and Corey’s shift didn’t start until the late afternoon so sleep wasn’t a necessity, or an option. The only thing left to do was fire up a blunt, and cruise the streets for a while. Eventually, we ended up at Malik’s house, the final member of our crew.

Malik was a tall, muscular, ruggedly handsome, caramel colored brother that had the gift of gab like Corey, but knew when to turn it on and off. Just like Corey and me, Malik was equally successful with the ladies, but was considered a man’s man because he had that hard, rough exterior that made him likeable and respected by the other guys in the ’hood. He was that type of brother you felt safe having around because he was down to bash some heads in if it came down to it.

Corey and I wasn’t bashin’ nothin’ unless family was involved, or one of us was in need of assistance. Other than that, Malik was the man whenever some static broke out, and that’s why we labled him the thug of our little trio. However, underneath that rough exterior was an honest, kind hearted, hard working brother that was employed as a cook during the day and a D.J. at night and on the weekends. Dee jaying was Malik’s true love, and was one of the hottest on the scene. He would do parties, and spin for wannabe rappers who wanted to make it big. Like all entertainers, his ultimate goal was to succeed in the music business, and open his own studio one day. Until then, he was content to work hard, and make sacrifices to see his dream a reality.

As we sat outside Malik’s house, Corey blew the horn a couple of times before we realized he was either sleep, or ignoring us because he had a job to go to in the morning. Therefore, I hung out with Corey until about eleven-thirty before I realized I had better be heading home before it was lights out, and the cell doors were closed for the night. It was quite sad that at the age of 21, a brotha didn’t have a key to get into the house. Oh well, I guess it was my parents subtle way of saying, Get out!

The next morning it took everything I had to wrestle myself from the warmth of my bed. I glanced at my clock and saw that it was only 8:00am. After being out until 11:30 the previous night, I thought I might have slept a little longer. Unfortunately, I was a hopeless morning person, and could never sleep past 8:00am no matter how hard I tried. At least, I had gotten better. When I first came home from the Marines, I would get up at 4:00am religiously.

Regardless of my employment status, I never allowed myself to become a lazy slob either. Not that I didn’t do things on my own, but mama wouldn’t allow me to sit around and not pull my weight somehow. She would always tell me with authority, If you don’t work, or go to school, you gon’ definitely do something around this house.

Therefore, I did exactly as I did when I was a child and made sure all my daily chores were done before I stepped foot out the front door. But as much as I "enjoyed" helping out at home, I preferred to get paid for all my work and was hoping to hear something from the temp agency I had applied two weeks before.

Daydreaming about work and my lack of money caused me to think about a girl named Shana I had dated during the summer of ’92. She was a very pretty, curvy nineteen year old that lived in the suburbs and loved the idea of having a bad boy from da hood as a boyfriend, especially if it ticked daddy off. Nevertheless, she was very sweet, but naïve. I suppose living way out in the boondocks hadn’t prepared her for life in the city and I took full advantage. Still, she was very good to me, and showed how supportive she could be after I was fired for supplying all of my homeboys with the Josias Crawford version of an employee discount. You know, the take what you want, and I’ll "pretend" to ring everything up discount. Anyways, there was a party later that night, and I needed something phat to wear. I was low on cash and my poor, naïve, sympathetic girlfriend, came to the rescue.

She told me that all I had to do was go to her job, pick up her check, and they would cash it for me right on the spot. What? Instant cash and I didn’t have to work for it. The icing on the cake was when she told me to take what I needed, and bring her what was left. Uh, did I mention she was naïve?

Telling me to take what I needed was like dangling another championship ring in front of the Chicago Bulls, and daring them to take it. Needless to say, I took what I needed, and then some. Unfortunately, Shana didn’t expect the $8.00 I handed her to be all that was left out of a $200 check. To make a long story short . . . that was pretty much the end of our summer fling. At least, I looked good at the party.

Corey and Malik found the entire situation quite hilarious. For that incident alone, they thought I should have taken home the Mack of the year award which was a competition we started to further inflate our egos. The idea was to see who could get the most phone numbers, the most women into bed, or date as many women as possible without getting busted for an entire year. I know . . . silly right? We had nothing else better to do with our time, so why not invent a juvenile game to further tarnish the reputation of young black males. In case it matters, the winner is still in dispute.

I was brought back to reality by the sound of my humongous pager going off. After a quick glance at the numbers, I realized that it was Corey, but I never called anyone back on the first page, especially if I was busy. It was my goal to get out of mama’s house a.s.a.p. and didn’t want anything prolonging the time. I knew that if it were important enough, he would either page me again, or just drop by. About a half hour later, Corey decided that he would drop by. After hearing a horn, I looked out my bedroom window to find Corey sitting in the driveway.

I wasn’t even dressed in what I was going to wear for the day so I threw some shoes on, grabbed my jacket from the hook in the hallway, and rushed outside.

Before I could reach the car, I could see a gigantic grin on Corey’s face and wondered what he had gotten into at 10:00am. I had just finished some work around the house, and was barely dressed. Corey looked and sounded like he had been up at the crack of dawn puffin’ on blunts.

What up playa? He said, as I approached the car.

What’s up with you? I asked, with a confused look on my face.

Yo, I know I caught you off guard popping up like this, but I got some news that couldn’t wait.

Alright, he had my attention. If Corey had to drive all the way to my house to share some news, I knew it had to be good. Then, I realized I hadn’t finished getting dressed, and told Corey to hold his thought while I went back inside.

A few moments later I returned. Slightly out of breath from rushing before mama found more work for me, I told Corey to finish what he was trying to say and to stop by the bank so I could get my last few dollars out of my account. As we pulled off, he reached over and pressed play on his cassette deck. Ain’t nothin’ but a G thang was blarin’ in the 15" speakers, so he turned it down a little so we could hear each other talking.

Yo J., you remember home girl Tiara from last night, right?

Oh, you mean inmate c890062?

Alright funny dude, Corey said, through a slight grin. You wanna hear what I got to say or not?

You got it dogg, the floor is yours.

Anyways, Tiara left a message for me to call last night while we were out. I wasn’t going to call, but I wasn’t tired yet and had nothing better to do.

Corey always took the long way around when trying to tell a story. I sat there patiently, but the suspense was killing me.

"Do you know ol’ girl went home, called up her cousin, and told her about you? She put her on three way, and told me to tell her more about you. She must have thought I was Chuck Woolery or somebody, but that’s when I told her I don’t do love connections, and that she was on her own. However, since you my boy and all, I did tell her that you wouldn’t mind a hook up though."

Oh, hell no! I thought. Blind dates never work out. The person that does the hooking up always tell you that the person they’re hooking you up with is cute, or they have a nice personality. Hell, other people can’t see personality. I couldn’t see personality. And I always used words like cute to describe puppies. If I was going to date you, your appearance had to be pleasing to the eye and not just my eyes, but everybody’s eyes. I had an image to uphold, and couldn’t afford to be seen around town with a girl that looked like a freaking pound puppy, but had a beautiful mind . . . to hell with that.

I was so wrapped up in thought that I hadn’t noticed Corey was still rambling.

Man, Tiara was talking about how fine you is, and ooh girl he got that pretty hair, he said, mimicking Tiara’s voice.

If it’s one thing I found out through the years, is that women know how to stroke a man’s ego. And whether she’s ugly or not, it gets the job done. When Corey started telling me how Tiara was complimenting me, my curiosity had been piqued. My interest level in her cousin skyrocketed. Before I knew it, I had let a grin as wide as the Grand Canyon slide across my face.

Word, she said all that about me? I didn’t know that she looked at me long enough to even notice my hair, and facial features. After a brief pause, I looked at Corey and said, You kicked her out so quick, I didn’t think she had time to notice whether she was coming or going, falling or standing.

Ha ha, you got all the jokes today don’t you? See, I could have played you last night and told her that you had somebody already, but we boys and I ain’t even tryin’ to go there.

When Corey said that I had somebody already, I was trying to figure out who he thought my "somebody" was. Then it hit me, my AWOL girlfriend.

Dana! I said sucking my teeth, and frowning. You talking about Dana?

Yeah Dana, she still ya girl right?

Now I started to laugh, Yeah, right. Man, I ain’t heard from Dana since New Years Day. That relationship is all but a dead issue to me now.

What up wit that, what happened yo?

Trying to act hard and nonchalant, I shrugged my shoulders and said, I don’t know. She went out of town, she ain’t back, and that’s it . . . It’s done! I quickly changed the subject and told Corey to get the message to Tiara’s cousin that if she was down to meet, then I was down for whatever too. That’s when Corey reached into his jacket and handed me her phone number.

Tell her yourself playa, this is her number right here. Her name is Tanisha, in case you can’t read my hand writing.

After taking the number from Corey, I began to realize that I was fooling myself. I didn’t really want Tanisha’s number. Even though I had grown tired of Dana, I still wanted her back, but I couldn’t let go of my pride long enough to call her and see what was up. Pride, and lust played a part in every wrong decision I would eventually make in my life. I played the game as if it was a level playing field, but hadn’t noticed that life made up the rules along the way, and that pride and lust weren’t the best emotions to have in the game of life. When those two things get in the way, it’s hard to make the right moves, and like the game of chess . . . life will always put you in check. I just sat there, holding the number trying to convince myself that I needed to move on, but I wasn’t convinced. Instead, I started thinking how I was becoming more like a scripture I used to hear all the time.

A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.

How could it be that I wanted Dana back, but at the same time I didn’t? Deep down inside I knew there was a one woman man inside me waiting to surface. However, a few compliments about my exterior were changing the content on the inside. I forgot everything my mother had taught me about being humble, and only cared about self gratification and what it could get me . . . mostly women.

If there was one thing I despised most about growing up in the church is that every time I wanted to go the wrong way, some scripture or some lesson I learned would come crawling back to the forefront of my consciousness. I couldn’t break free, and wanted to do devious things without my guilty conscience hindering the process. I didn’t realize at the time, but it was already too late. I would never be free because of Proverbs 22:6 that says: Train up a child in the way that it should go that when he is old he shall not depart from it. Well, my mother did her part. However, I was doing my best to keep the other end of the prophecy from being fulfilled. I desperately wanted a departure from my guilty conscience, and anything that had to do with church.

With my mind still cluttered, I had drowned out everything Corey was saying and hadn’t realized that he had pulled up to the bank. As I got out the car to go inside, I told myself that it was time to start making some definitive plans regarding my life, and future. Moving out of my mom and dad’s house was priority one. No, finding a job was priority one. Then, I could work on getting that bachelors’ pad I always wanted. What I needed was a reality check to take a bite out of my child like mentality, and force me to think as an adult. I was getting too old to still be living with mommy and daddy. That was a marriage headed for divorce court real soon.

The thought had entered my mind to ask Corey and Malik to share an apartment with me and split the bills three ways. It would have been a good idea, had it not been for the fact that Malik was the only one that held down a job for more than six months at a time. Corey and I were always in between jobs, and weren’t responsible enough with money to buy a 25 cent donut at the end of the week. Besides, Corey had it easy at home and wasn’t trying to cut off his good thing for a long time. Every time he would get into a tight jam with his car insurance, maintenance, or even keeping a job, momma Blake was right there covering his butt. Still, I knew I had to figure something out because it was starting to get too crowded at home.

Besides myself, there were three smaller siblings I had the privilege of sharing space, and food with. That reminded me of a scripture mama quoted all the time. If a man don’t work, he don’t eat. It seemed every time I opened the refrigerator door, mama was right there to remind me that I didn’t deserve to eat because I didn’t work that day. I would have thought she was serious had it not been for the fact that she would always let me eat regardless of my employment status. Still, I was looking for the scripture to be on the refrigerator door every time I opened it.

It didn’t help that she was five months pregnant, and really needed the space. There would soon be four crumb snatchers ranging in ages from newborn, to six years old, and would definitely be no room for a twenty-one year old afraid to grow up, and face responsibility on his own. It’s true, I was responsible in other areas in my life, but when it came to holding down a job and moving out, I was very slothful. At least my eighteen year old sister Alicia had the nerve to move out on her own. Sure, she had gotten pregnant and had to move out, but at least