?Li'l bit,? Socrates said. ?He's a nice guy.?
?It's funny how Howard got friends who's white an' Mexican an' Japanese.?
It was true. Howard had only one Negro friend from work. All of Corina's friends were black women.
?Yeah,? Socrates said. ?When you start workin' serious, you get to know all kinds.?
?You think that's okay?? Monica asked, but there was another question that lay behind.
?They was nice. I don't care what color you are if you treat me okay.?
?Uh-huh,? Monica agreed. She lowered her head and stuck out her lips. Even though she was in no way pretty, Monica, Socrates realized, was close to beautiful.
?What's wrong, girl?? Socrates asked. ?Why you poutin'??
?I ain't poutin'. I'm thinkin'.?
?Thinkin' about what??
?Wayne said he goes to Las Vegas almost once a mont',? Monica said. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that there was no one listening from behind.
?Uh-huh,? Socrates grunted to prompt the reluctant woman.
?An' when he said that, I said that I heard it was nice but that I ain't never been. And he said that he was gonna go soon and if I give him my number he'd tell me when, and if I could go he'd drive us out there in his Trans Am.? The words came out clearly and quickly as if she'd been going over them again and again.
?Uh-huh,? Socrates said again.
?What you mean uh-huh??
?Well, it ain't a surprise that a young man wanna drive you somewhere. Men musta been askin' you t'get in their cars since you was a child.?
The look on Monica's face was an acknowledgment of the truth.
?So,? Socrates continued, ?why you surprised that this Wayne wanna take you away??
?He Japanese.? Monica said the words as if she was explaining to an inexperienced driver that he needed gasoline to run his car.
?Monica, look,? Socrates said. ?You like that boy??
?He nice.?
?You like how he looks, the kinda car he drive. He got a job. And he think you cute enough to see again.? Socrates itemized these facts on four muscular fingers.
?Yeah but?? Monica began.
?Monica.? Socrates held his hands up for her silence. ?You spend eight hours a day sleepin', two hours in the bathroom, and at least a hour and a half at the table eatin'. You spend fifty hours every week gettin' to work, comin' home or workin'. Either that or you got kids and that's every hour of every day. You got to wash dishes, get dressed, get mad, go to the store, go to school, go to the doctor. An' every day you on your feet walkin', walkin', walkin'. Except sometimes you're sick an' then you cain't even get up.?
?Word.? Monica smiled and then grinned. She put up a hand to testify to the truth of Socrates' claims.
?Now how many minutes do you think a man spends givin' you what you want? A lotta men spend a whole lotta time tryin' to get what they want from you. But how many'a them gonna get off the dime and do for you?? Socrates found himself reaching out to hold Monica by her elbow. ?If that man got yellah skin it don't seem so bad, not if you like that skin. And if he work hard to buy a nice car and then he wanna drive you somewhere, well then maybe you should tell 'im you wanna go some place close by first?-just to see if he's nice.?
Monica ducked her head and smiled. She also leaned into Socrates' hand.
