Baby! Baby! Come Back to Me!bySusanJillParker©
This is a Valentine's Day contest story. Please give me the support of your vote.
There are no underage characters in this story. All characters depicted are over the age of 18-years-old.
"Baby! Baby! Come Back to Me!"
Fed up with him forgetting her birthday and their anniversaries, a woman leaves her man after he forgets that today is Valentine's Day, the day of love.
"Baby! Baby! Come back to Me! Daddy loves you! All is forgiven. Baby!"
With his heart broken on Valentine's Day, of all days, the day of love, the young man emotionally searched the streets for his baby until he turned violently angry that she left him and was gone, seemingly gone for good.
"God damn it! Motherfucker. Dirty bitch. God damn whore of a bitch. Where the fuck are you? Baby! Where are you? Baby!"
Barely 7 am, despondent and desperate, he walked down the middle of the street while looking from one side of the street to the other side of the street while screaming for his baby.
"Baby! Baby! Come back to me! Baby! Where are you Baby? Baby! I love you Baby!"
Not caring who he disturbed, he continued walking while screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Hey man," said an old, black man stepping out from the darkness of a doorway. "What's wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? Are you drunk? Are you on drugs? You can't be screamin' and swearin' like that over some damn bitch. There's kids in this neighborhood. Even though some women are no better than dogs, you can't be disrespectin' dogs like that," said the old man with a laugh.
The old man looked at the young man with curiosity.
"Sorry," said the young man continuing to slowly walk down the middle of the street while looking for his Baby.
The young man looked at the old man with desperation and sadness.
"Unless you're some crack whore just wakin' up after being pounded all night and lookin' for her next fix, it's too early for that shoutin' shit," said the old man. "Calm the fuck down."
The old man crossed the sidewalk and ventured out in the street to walk closer to the young man. Obviously unafraid to approach a stranger, this was his neighborhood after all. This is where he lives and the young man not only invaded his turf but also disturbed the peace and the natural order of his neighborhood by yelling profanity.
"Sorry," said the young man.
Approaching him with caution, the old man walked closer.
"You're gonna wake up the whole damn neighborhood. Someone's gonna call the cops on you and throw your ass in jail or worse, in this neighborhood, someone's gonna stick a gun out their window and cap your white ass," said the old man giving him the once over.
The old man walked along side of the man as the two men continued walking down the middle of the street.
"Sorry," was the only thing the young man had to say.
With the young man looking off in the distance, obviously looking for his Baby, the old man studied the young man with his unbroken stare.
"What the Hell are you doin' in his neighborhood anyway? You don't belong here and you sure as Hell don't live here. I know everyone who lives on this street. This is my neighborhood. Born here, I lived here all my life. This wasn't always a ghetto, it was once a good neighborhood and a safe place to live, until all the white folk left," he said with sadness before turning his focus back to the young man. "Either you're lookin' for smack, crack, blow, or trouble, that's all you'll find here. Best you look for your damn baby somewhere else."
Seemingly not even listening to him talking, the young man looked through the man while searching the street with his eyes for his baby.
"I'm sorry," said the young man again while not looking as apologetic as he should be for disturbing the peace and for waking up the whole neighborhood for the sake of looking for his Baby. "My Baby is gone. I'm looking for my Baby. I need to find my Baby. I can't live without her. Not realizing what I had until she's gone, my Baby is the only good thing in my life."
The old man looked at him with as much confusion as he looked at him with concern.
"What kind of baby are we talkin' about here, a real baby, an infant or a--?"
The old man pulled out his cell phone as if ready to call the police to report a missing child.
"An infant? No, of course not. She's no infant, trust me. She's not a missing child," said the young man looking at him as if he was crazy. "She's fully grown," he said. "She's an adult. We've been together for three years. I love her and she loves me."
Obviously looking as if wishing the old man would mind his own business, the young man looked at the old man as if he was the one who was nuts.
"Take a breath, calm down, and tell me what happened," said the old man.
Continuing to search the street with his eyes, the young man was unresponsive.
"Baby! Where are you? Baby!"
Persistent in obviously wanting to help the young man, the old man asked him again.
"What happened? Tell me what happened. You don't reach my age without being a good listener just as you don't reach my age without knowing what to do in every situation, in every emergency, and with every opportunity that presents itself," said the old man with a wise, little laugh.
The two men stopped walking to talk.
"On of all days, the day of love, it's Valentine's Day and my Baby is gone. She's gone. There one minute and gone the next, she's gone," he said with tears welling up in his eyes and looking as if he was going to collapse in the middle of the street."
As if he was his grandfather and the young man was his grandson, the old man patted the young man on the shoulder before gently rubbing his back.
"It's okay. Everythin' will be alright. Take a breath. Let it out and relax. Breath. Do that a few times and you'll feel better. We'll find your baby. Don't worry," said the old man. "Tell me what happened so that I can help you."
As if he was ready to kill someone, the young man suddenly looked at the old man with anger.
"I forgot that it was fucking Valentine's Day. Okay? She made me breakfast in bed and gave me a card and a gift, this watch," said the man holding up his watch for the old man to see.
The old man stared at the watch before staring at the young man.
"That's a mighty fine watch. What kind of watch is that?"
The young man stared at the watch with the old man.
"It's a Rolex Submariner," said the young man looking from the old man to look at his watch before looking at the old man.
The old man suddenly seemed impressed by the young man's new watch.
"A Rolex, huh?" The old man rubbed the whiskers on his chin. "How much does a watch like that cost?"
The young man held up his watch to look at the black face and the silver, metal band.
"Oh, I don't know, around seven-thousand-dollars," he said returning the conversation to what happened with Baby. "I felt like such a shit heel that I had nothing to give her for Valentine's Day but for my erection," he said.
The old man nodded his head as if he was thinking about his past relationships sexual and otherwise.
"Been there, done that," said the old man giving him a knowing nod while still staring at his watch. "Damn, seven-thousand-dollars for a watch, I can't believe that watch cost seven big ones. The best watch I ever had was a Timex. I had that watch for years until I lost it, put it down somewhere and someone took it," he said with sadness. "I, um, happened upon a Hamilton and a Bulova once, years ago, but I hawked those watches to buy food, liquor actually, the medication I use for to ease the pain from my arthritis."
He fell silent as if remembering his old Timex before he returned his focus to staring at the Rolex.
"When I pulled her to me for a kiss me and for us to make love, she wanted none of that and nothing to do with me," said the young man with sadness. "Tired of me forgetting her birthdays, our anniversaries, and now Valentine's Day, she grabbed her things, along with some of my things, and stormed out. Before I could get out of bed and get dressed, she was gone, long gone," he said looking at the old man. "My Baby was gone."
The young man looked at the old man with sorrow and the old man looked at him with opportunity.
"Wow Man, no wonder why you're baby is gone. You're fucked when you forget a woman's birthday or an anniversary but you're double fucked when you forget the day of love, Valentine's Day," said the old man shaking his head. "With you having a woman in bed, how could you forget Valentine's Day?"
The young man put his head down as if he had been a bad dog.
"I know. You're right," said the young man. "It was all my fault."
As if he was chastising himself for forgetting Valentine's Day over the years, the old man admonished the young man with the attitude of a grandfather scolding and advising his grandson.
"What's wrong with you forgettin' that today is Valentine's Day? What's wrong with you for not givin' your baby flowers, candy, perfume, and/or some shiny bling? Especially with her buying you that mighty fine watch, if I was your baby, I'd leave your honky ass too."
The old man looked at him with disbelief while shaking his head.
"I don't know. I'm just spread too thin, I guess," he said hanging his head in sadness. "I've been trying to make a name for myself at work. I've been thinking more about money than I have about love. I've been thinking more about money than thinking about my Baby. Now with my Baby gone, I realize what I lost. I'm nothing without her in my life," he said looking at the old man as if he was about to cry. "I'm nothing and no one without my Baby!"
The old man looked at the young man with as much disbelief as he looked at him with displeasure.
"There, there now," said the old man patting the young man's shoulder. We'll find her. Trust me. I've forgotten enough birthdays and anniversaries to know how important they are to women but I ain't never forgotten no Valentine's Day, especially if I was hopin' to get me some later that night. You just messed up is all. Everyone makes mistakes," said the old man.
The young man hung his head is sorrow and in shame.
"It's all my fault. I've been so busy with work and too preoccupied with making money. I've been distracted lately by the sudden economic surge and the positive gains in the stock market," he said.
Obviously by his disheveled appearance and with him living in this depressed neighborhood, without remotely knowing what it's like to be that busy making money, the old man nodded his head with a sympathetic look.
"Stock market? I can't say that I've ever been that busy makin' money but I hear ya," said the old man. "I have what little money I have stashed in a sock in the back of my drawer. I ain't never owned any stocks."
The young man looked up to give him a sad smile.
"If only I had remembered Valentine's Day. If only I had remembered to buy her a card, send her some flowers, and to have a piece of jewelry squirreled away somewhere, diamond earrings or a diamond tennis bracelet, everything would have been fine," he said.
With no one else there to talk to, the young man confided in the old man as if he was talking to his grandfather.
"I can't say that I blame her. I've been there and I've done that with more than one woman," said the old man. "Now after buyin' myself one of those big calendars, I have everythin' written on it and circled in red so that I don't forget anythin', especially my medications. Maybe that's what you should do?"
The young man continued searching the street with his eyes.
"Pardon? I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. Do what? What should I do?"
Not listening to him, the young man looked at the old man with confusion.
"Buy yourself one of those giant calendars and a red magic marker," said the old man. "That way, no matter if you're still with this woman or another woman, you'll never forget another birthday, anniversary, or Valentine's Day."
The old man looked at the young man with wisdom.
"Yeah, I'll do that after I find my Baby," said the young man mindlessly staring off in the distance as if expecting his Baby to magically appear from out of nowhere.
Not knowing what else to do, the young man looked at the old man with sadness.
"I'm just givin' you the experience of my years," said the old man. "You don't have to take my advice if you don't want it. I'm just throwin' it out there."
With him looking so sad, so troubled, and so despondent, the young man looked at the old man as if he was about to cry.
"Unable to live without her, I love her and I don't want to lose her," said the young man. "She's the only good, real thing that I have in my life. She's the one that I think about all day and can't wait to go home to while at the office," he said.
The old man scratched his head.
"I don't know if I loved any one bitch like that. To me all bitches are the same. But knowing bitches in the way that I do, maybe she had a change of heart about leaving your dumb ass and she's home waitin' for you to return," he said.
The young man shook his head.
"Nah, I doubled back twice. She's not there. She's gone," he said looking as if he was about to breakdown and collapse on the street crying.
"I'm Joe," said the old man extending his hand. "Old Joe everyone calls me 'cause I'm so old. I'll be 83-years-old next month. What's your name?"
"Jerry," he said. "Just Jerry. I never had a nickname."
Old Joe looked at Jerry's clothes and at his shoes. Obviously, Jerry looked like he had a few dollars where Old Joe had nothing but his Social Security check and most of that went to his slum landlord for rent. Whatever he had left, which wasn't much, went towards booze, food, and prescription medication that he routinely skipped to buy booze before buying food.
"She must have been one beautiful girl for you to be actin' like this," he said shaking his head. "I've had some beautiful bitches in my life but none of them good lookin' enough for me to be out in the street screamin' for my baby," said Old Joe.
As if being interrupted from his thoughts, Jerry looked at Old Joe with confusion.
Old Joe rolled his eyes, shrugged, and sighed.
"Who else? You're girlfriend," said the old man. "Your baby."
As if there was a ray of enlightenment, Jerry responded.
"Oh, her. Yeah, she's beautiful, very beautiful," said Jerry.
"What's her name?"
Jerry looked at Old Joe as if being interrupted from his thoughts again.
"Susan," said Jerry. "Susan Jill Parker."
Old Joe nodded his head as if he knew her when he didn't.
"Susan? That's a nice name. I've always like that name. I don't know any black women named Susan though. So tell me, Jerry, what does this Susan Jill Parker look like? I'll help you find her," said the old man in his feeble attempt to calm Jerry with conversation and by volunteering his help in finding his baby.
Once again preoccupied thinking of other things, he looked at Old Joe as if he wasn't listening and he wasn't.
Old Joe shrugged and raised his hands in frustration.
"You're girlfriend. What does this Susan Jill Parker look like?"
As if coming out of a drug induced fog, Jerry answered the old man.
"Oh, um, she's tall, blonde, and busty with big, blue eyes," he said. "She's beautiful but she's such a bitch to do this to me, to take off on Valentine's Day, just because I forgot that it was Valentine's Day and didn't remember her with flowers or with jewelry."
As if Old Joe had been there and done that over a woman, he looked at Jerry with wisdom.
"If you ask me that's a lot of fussin' for over a bitch. Especially with you obviously havin' a few dollars, trust me, she'll be beggin' you to take her back. Besides, there's plenty of bitches in the sea," he said.
Jerry shot him a look as if his head was whiplashed in a side impact car accident.
"Oh, no there's not. Not like my Baby. My Baby is one of a kind," said Jerry raising his voice.
Old Joe shot Jerry a look that said no woman was worth the trouble of looking for them after they're gone. No doubt, as far as he was concerned, hoping they'd never return, good riddance to them.
"Bad enough that you forgot Valentine's Day but you must have done something really bad to piss off your baby for her to up and leave you like that," he said.
Jerry shot Old Joe a look of anger.
"No, I did nothing for my Baby to leave me. Baby loves me. I'm good to my Baby. We go out for long walks every day. Every day we play and run together. It's my frigging girlfriend who's fucked up and not Baby," he said.
Old Joe looked at Jerry with as much confusion as he looked at him with astonishment.
"Wait a minute. I'm confused," said Old Joe. "Tell me if I'm wrong but I thought your girlfriend was your baby. Were you two timing on your girlfriend? Is that it? You had another piece of ass on the side? You lucky dog. Been there and done that before only you can't get caught with your pants down like that," said Old Joe shaking his head while suddenly looking off in the distance as if he was remembering all of his sexual affairs and cheating ways.
Jerry looked at the old man as if he was nuts.
"No, it's not like that. That's not it at all," said Jerry.
The old man looked at Jerry with wisdom.
"It's better you come clean. It's better you tell the truth now son. No wonder why she left your white ass. Ain't no woman white or black gonna put up with a man who can't keep it in his pants, especially after forgetting that today is Valentine's Day. You sure are some kind of fool," said Old Joe.
Jerry looked at Old Joe as if he was high on drugs.
"No you misunderstand. My girlfriend is the one who's a bitch. Baby is my dog," he said. "My girlfriend took my dog."
Old Joe looked at Jerry as if he was having a conversation with someone from another country or another planet.
"Say what? Come again? You dawg? Your baby is your dawg? Your woman stole your dawg? All this is about a damn dawg? Baby is your dawg? Hell no," said Old Joe looking at Jerry as if he was crazy making all this fuss over a damn dog.
Old Joe looked at Jerry as if he was the one high on drugs.
"She took my Baby," said Jerry.
Jerry looked at Old Joe with suffering sorrow.
"That's just fucked. I can't believe we've been talkin' about a damn dawg when I thought you we're talkin' about a bitch, your bitch."
Old Joe looked at Jerry with as much surprise as he looked at him with confusion.
"Yeah, that's right," said Jerry. "Baby is my dog. Only, she's not just any dog. She's a champion. Well, she's not a champion but her parents were both champions. I paid six thousand dollars for her.
A look that he continued to have on his face when talking to Jerry, Old Joe looked at him as if he was crazy to be that broken up over a dog.
"Damn! Six thousand dollars for a dawg? Unless she's a Greyhound and you can make money racin' her, ain't no dawg worth six big ones," said Old Joe shaking his head.
Jerry nodded his affection for his precious dog.
"Worth every penny, she's my best friend, my companion, and my rock that I hug and pat when feeling down. Now with her gone, I feel as if I lost so much more than just a dog," said Jerry.
As if he had just lost his best friend and he had, Jerry nodded his head with sadness.
"Excuse me for saying this but your woman is a real bitch. What kind of woman steals a man's dawg? That's just downright nasty for a woman to steal a man's dawg," said Old Joe getting angry.
"Now you know why I'm so upset," said Jerry.
"I used to have a dawg. I loved that dawg. That dawg was my best friend. That dawg was my protector," said Old Joe wiping a tear from his eye as if looking off again while remembering his dog.
"It's okay," said Jerry giving his new friend a hug.