Sneak Peek

     Welcome! You have entered the Sneak Peek Zone, for “I Blew God A Kiss” I am letting go of a work that I spent years working on. It is scary and exciting all wrapped up in the same package. I know that you are going to love it. I need you to order many copies and give them out as gifts to family, friends, co-workers and even that stranger on the street. I want everybody to read this book. So if you have found your way to this sneak peek then you are my biggest fan and I appreciate your support. This sneak peek is the first two chapters and will wet your appetite and leave you wanting more, so as soon as you finish reading go directly to the order now button and place that order.   Happy reading!  

       The young and innocent Layla an Alabama native with features that some love and others hate. She finds herself tangled in a web of deceit by a father she adores and a mother she does not know. Spinning from a whirlwind of anger her path leads her to the neon lights of New York. There she fall victim to a madman. Only her grandmother’s prayers, her brother’s resolve and an Italian stranger are her hope for rescue. 

         This page turning novel is about following one’s dream no matter how many detours encountered. With all its twist and turns it shows how anger can direct your life down the wrong path. This novel’s climax offers up hope that even in our darkest moments we can find the strength to blow God a kiss.   

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrivel system or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or any other-except for breif quatations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the author.

Happy Reading

Chapter 1

       She held an Alabama Chronicle in her hands, as she stood on top of the red dirt mound. The headline read, “Local Girl Makes the Big Time.” Layla Renée Porter, “hum, is that really me, a famous fashion designer.” Layla thought. She could barely contain her emotions. With all the tragic events that had happened, how could this be? Was this a misprint?

       Layla drifted above the cloud until she had positioned herself on her favorite nimbus. She breathed in deeply and felt the cool wind that entered her nostrils. It was refreshing. The heat from the sun baked her skin. Still she did not move. A little tickle up her leg caused her to twinge. Still she would not move. It was a red ant and it took a vicious bite out of her leg. She rose and hit it causing a bloodstain on her hand.

      Layla’s favorite pastime was to lie on top of the red dirt hill. She could stay there for hours daydreaming about becoming a fashion designer. Her sense of using the finest quality of fabrics pleased her. “Only the best,” she would say to her assistant with a smile. She always knew the colors she wanted for each outfit. The models would rush around to see what she wanted them to wear. She could hear a bee buzzing around her head. First an ant now a bee, she thought, how could they get so far up in my cloud? This awoke her from her fantasy. 

      She opened her eyes and the forest folded itself around her like a protective shield.  She trembled with fright not knowing why. She had never been afraid of being in the woods. She must have been there for hours, because the sun was going down. Her mother didn’t like her going in the woods alone. As she walked back down the path she had strewn out, she tried to think of what she would say when she faced her mother. In her hand she held onto a paper bag full of red dirt. I am not giving up my dirt, she thought. “I don’t know how I am going to explain this,” she heard herself say. “Maybe I should throw it away and mother wouldn’t know.” She enjoyed the rich taste of red dirt baked fresh from the oven. So she squeezed the bag a little tighter. She crossed over a long log that had fallen over a ravine, and she knew she was almost home. She had on a lime green top and a pair of multicolor culottes. The closer she got to the house the faster she walked. She almost tripped trying to walk, while brushing the dirt and leaves from her clothes. Her hands became sweaty, and she felt a little faint. She put the bag of dirt under a broken down chair on the back porch.

      As soon as she opened the door she heard her mother’s goaded voice. She was holding a True Confession magazine in her hand.

      “Ma-Me what have you done to my book?” Her mother opened it and pointed to the holes that should have shown pictures of people.

“I needed some clothes for my paper dolls they—” Layla’s voice trembled.

       “I am getting rid of those dad blame dolls. You need to snap out of that fantasy world you living in,” she stormed away still swearing about the book that she hadn’t read. 

        Layla looked up toward heaven and whispered, “Thank you God,” her mom didn’t say a word about her being late after school.

        Layla’s beauty was enchanting. Her skin tone was a brazen bronze like that of a person who spent weeks in a tanning salon just to get the right complexion. It was hard to distinguish her race. She had hazel eyes and long brown curly hair. She had a small mark on her right cheek the shape of a half-moon. She hated it. Her brother Jordan called it her beauty mark. Layla wondered why her complexion wasn’t as dark as her family’s. Her dad was a little fair skinned but nothing close to her color. Yet no one had ever made any comments about the obvious family difference. For as long as she could remember they called her Ma-Me.

         It was 1967 a hard time for blacks living in Alabama and equally hard for someone like Layla. How do you rise above racial tension that’s thicker than fog on a mountaintop? She spent most of her young life with her head in the clouds. Being alone was what she preferred, but her older brother Jordan was her favorite person. She couldn’t image him ever not being there. He was seventeen, six years older than she was.  She had two younger siblings, Juanita seven and David, who was five-years-old.

        A black car dropped Jordan off. The light that glimmered from the back porch was his guide through the darkness. As he approached the porch, he spotted the brown bag under a chair. When he opened it and saw what was inside, he smiled. He put the bag under his arm and went inside and turned off the back porch light. He entered the room where his mom was asleep on the sofa. The smell of Vodka hung in the air. He covered her with a blanket and turned off the radio. The clock on the wall rang the midnight chime. His father was not home from work yet. Jordan thought, he probably won’t be in until morning. As he continued down the hall, he noticed his younger brother and sister curled up next to each other fast asleep in their room. He opened the door to Layla’s room and noticed a light shining under her blanket.

“Ma-Me, what are you doing up?”

“Jay Pee! I was waiting for you,” she said excitedly.

“Ma-Me, what is this?” He showed her the bag.

“I wanted some red dirt.”

       “How many times do I have to tell you not to go in the woods alone?”

“Nothing happened! I am not scared.”

“That’s not the point. It’s dangerous. Promise you won’t go unless I am with you.”

“Ohm.”

“Promise Ma-Me.”

“You ain’t never round,” she said pouting.

“I know I’ve been busy lately with work and school. School’ll be out soon and I’ll have more time.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for you,” she gave him a hug, “will you tell me a story?”

He knelt down beside her bed. He looked up at the ceiling as if a book was there waiting to be read.

“I got it,” he exclaimed, “there were two men picking blackberries.”

“Picking blackberries?”

“Ma-Me, I am telling this story.”

       “Sorry,” she said apologetic.

“These two men picking black berries—”

“How old are they?” She said yawning.

“Ma-Me you interrupt again and I am going to bed.”

“Lay side me?”

     Jordan climbed into bed with her and put his arms around her.

“Alright the men in the berry patch,” he pulled the hair out of her face and noticed that she was asleep. He smiled and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

     “Well I guess I will have to tell my berry pickin’ story some other time,” he said as he got out of the bed.

The next morning when Jordan got up, he knew that he would have to cook breakfast.  This was his normal routine on the mornings when his mom would drink the night before. Jordan’s parents were married for eighteen years. His father Joseph has worked in the cotton mills for over twenty years. His mom Sadie hadn’t worked since Layla arrived.

Joseph came in while Jordan was preparing breakfast. Jordan’s anger with his father had festered for many years. He blamed him for his mom’s unhappiness.He tried to be polite.

     “Good morning Pop,” were the words he managed to utter. 

“Jay Pee, has your mom been drinking again.” Jordan didn’t respond. He thought if you were home, she wouldn’t drink. His father tried again to resume the conversation. 

      “Have you decided on a college yet, son?" 

“No sir, I have narrowed it down to three schools,” he said a little more enthusiastic. 

“You still have your heart set on practicing law,” his father continued. 

“There is nothing else I would rather do with my life,” Jordan remarked with much resistance. He felt his father’s tone was condescending.    

“Son a black man doesn’t have a chance with this so called justice system.”

       “The law is fair. It is neither black nor white,” Jordan shot back.

“Jay Pee, where do you get such nonsense? This is a white man’s world we live in. You can’t believe that.”

“Yes, I believe it. Somebody has to fight to make this a better world. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

His father put his head in his hands. Jordan looked up and Layla was standing in the door. 

“Good morning Ma-Me,” he said. He was thankful she walked in.

Joseph turned around and lifted Layla in the air. He gave her a kiss on the lips.     

“How is my best girl,” he said.

“Papa, where you been? I miss you,” Layla said as she held on to his neck.

“Ma-Me get Nita and Davie up and wash up for breakfast,” Jordan interrupted.  

“I want pancakes,” she said as she left the room.

Joseph turned and looked at Jordan, then walked out of the room. Jordan bit his lip and threw the dishtowel he was holding on the table. He fought back the tears and took out the box of Aunt Jemima from the cupboard. 

      Saturday was Jordan’s long day at work. He worked at the A&P grocery store. He stocked shelves, bagged grocery and did any other odd job that his boss could find. There had been tension between him and his boss because he didn’t think that black folk should get an education. Jordan told him he would be quitting in a couple of weeks. He made plans to go to summer school to take some college prep courses. His boss, Mr. Scotty, did not take the news well. He wanted to fire him, but he was a good worker. The employees liked him and so did the customers. When Jordan walked in the store, Mr. Scotty was standing there waiting for him.

     “Jordan—follow me,” was all he said.

Mr. Scotty was a big man. His legs were smaller than the rest of his body. Jordan wondered how he supported his body with those legs. His clothes were not fashionable. It reminded Jordan of a teepee he saw in one of his books. Even the colors he wore were drab and dingy looking. Mr. Scotty led Jordan into the freezer. 

“Jordan we just got a shipment of ham in, and I need you to make some room on these two shelves,” he said as he pointed to the bottom shelves that were totally packed. 

“Yes sir,” Jordan replied as he thought, it is going to be a long day. 

“The freezer is not a bad place to work on a hot day like today,” Jordan thought. 

He was trying to have a good attitude so the day would pass quickly. Jordan stepped out of the freezer after about two hours of rearranging, “stuff and mo stuff,” he said as he cuffed his hand together to blow warm air into them. He looked up and he saw Layla running down the cereal isle. 

“Jay Pee,” she said gasping for air.

“Ma-Me, what is the matter? What happen?"

“Mama. Come… home now.”    

Chapter 2

      Sadie Mae Bailey was fifteen years old when she walked into Jake’s juke joint for the first time. She’d heard her sibling talk about this place since she was eleven. She was the fourth oldest child in a family of eight. She had five brothers and two sisters. That night she was with her oldest sister Juanita. They lived in a small mill town and on Friday nights the place was crowded. The mill workers who were getting off came to wind down and others were on their way to work. Sadie was nervous but watching Juanita laughing and flirting with the men helped her to relax.       

      There were a few round tables with chairs in the middle of the floor. On the left side of the room were a couple of booths. There was a couple in one of them sitting close. In front of her was a counter. A woman was serving drinks and preparing fish dinners for those who ordered them. To the right of her was a smaller room. In this room was a pool table, a small dance floor and the jukebox. She looked around the room to see were Juanita was. She spotted her at the counter and then headed for the jukebox.   

    As she searched for Billie Holiday, it was as if everything around her had disappeared.  She found a dime in the side of the little gray handbag that belonged to her mother. She stood there with her eyes closed singing with the record. He walked up behind her and whispered.

“You have a nice voice.”

She clinched her chest and took a deep sigh.

“Did I frighten you?” He asked.

She stood there with her mouth opened. He was knock down gorgeous. His hair was jet-black and wavy. He had combed it back, so you could see those beautiful eyes, she thought. When he smiled, it was as if his teeth sparkled. 

Then he said it again, “Did I frighten you?”

“No… I mean yea… I was—”

“I interrupted your song. I’ll play it for you again.”

Oh my goodness, she thought. If my heart doesn’t stop beating so fast, I am going to die!

“My name is Joseph Porter. I have never seen you in here before.”

“My sista Juanita—” she said nudging her head in Juanita’s direction.

“Yeah, I know Nita.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You are much prettier.

“What’s your name suga?”

“Sadie.”

“Sadie Mae.”

“No, just Sadie, don’t like Sadie Mae.”

“Okay pretty lady I won’t call you Sadie Mae.”

He played another selection.

“Let’s dance honey,” he held out his hand. He was forceful yet smooth and without hesitation she reached for his hand. He pulled her close to him.

“You don’t need to tremble. I won’t hurt you.”
On their way home Sadie could think of nothing but Joseph and his smile. Juanita was talking nonstop, but she didn’t hear a word Juanita said.  

“You hear me,” Juanita yelled.

“What’d you say?”

“You stay away from that Joe Porter—he ain’t no good.”

“What?” Sadie giggled.

“Stay away from him. You hear!”

When they walked into the house, Lizzie met them at the door. 

“What is all that noise?” Lizzie asked.

“Your sista been bit by the Joe Porter bug,” Juanita said as she threw her hands in the air.

Lizzie was seventeen and didn’t go out much but she had heard stories about how Joe treated women.

“Lord Chile,” she said, “you need ta listen ta Nita. You”ll only get hurt.”

“That’s silly, goodnight,” Sadie said with a smile.

When Sadie got into bed, she thought, they are just jealous. He thinks I am prettier than they are; besides, he said he wouldn’t hurt me.

As Sadie nursed her bruises, she thought about that night twenty years ago when she first met Joseph Porter.

“Why did I not listen to my sisters,” she said as she licked the blood from her lips. 

     She looked up and Jordan was standing at the bathroom door.

“You alright,” he said as he started to reach for her.

She put her hand up to stop him from coming toward her. 

“What you doing home?”

“Ma-Me came to the store—”

“For what? I am going to kick her butt.”

“Oh this Ma-Me’s fault?”

“Jay Pee you ain’t my daddy,” she said rolling her eyes sharply at him.

      Jordan shook his head and walked back into the living room. The place was a mess.  Broken plates and glass was all over the floor. The tables and chairs were knocked over. Layla stood in the middle of the floor with one arm around David and the other around Juanita.

Jordan smiled at the children and said, “hey let’s go sit on the porch.”

The front porch had an old rusted iron swing. It was an olive green but the paint had begun to peel. Rust and what was once red paint showed through in spots.

      Jordan picked up Juanita and put her on his lap. Layla sat down and put her head on his shoulder. David sat on the opposite side of him.

“Way we goin taday, JayPee,” David said as he looked with wide eyes at his brother.

“Where you want to go Nita?” Jordan asked his baby sister.

“I want ta go ta Naw’leans,” she smiled excitedly.

“New Orleans, home of the Madi Gras.” 

      The porch swing was a place that with a good imagination they could travel all over the world and back in less than an hour. Jordan began to rock back and forwards as he traveled in his mind to New Orleans. He began to talk about the Dixieland band and the cruise on the Mississippi River. He toured the Vieux Carre’ and took a buggy ride around the French Quarter admiring the huge plantation homes. He talked of the exciting night, the lights, and the laughter of the people as they prepared for the Madi Gras. He pointed to the costumes and asked, “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?” He described the colors and the fabrics and the incredible masks. Then he was exhausted and hungry for a muffuletta.

“Let’s go again,” Nita said.

“Yeah, let’s go ta The Yok,” David said.

“No I don’t like New York,” Layla said.

“Okay, that’s enough, Ma-Me take them inside,” Jordan stood up and motioned them toward the door.

“Where you going?” Layla knew that Jordan’s mind was not on the trip to New Orleans. She knew that he wanted to find their father.

“I’ll be back,” he said.

“Want me to call Nanmu?” Layla asked.

“Ma-Me, don’t worry.”

“Where you going?”

     Jordan turned around and walked back up the stairs. He put his hand on Layla’s cheek and said, “I told you don’t worry.”  

Layla took her brother and sister back into the house. She looked around at the mess and thought. I’ll fix them a sandwich and give them a glass of milk. Then I’ll clean this mess up. 

She looked up and her mom was coming down the hall. She had put on some make-up that hid the bruises well.

“Ma-Me, clean this mess up.”

“Yes, mam.” 

“I am going out for a spell.”

“Mama you alright?”

She leaned down and pinched Layla’s arm fiercely.

“Look Ma-Me, you didn’t have to go get Jay Pee. I can handle Joseph.”

Layla nodded biting her lower lip.

“I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she said as she opened the front door.

David hit Juanita and ran through the living room. Juanita yelled and chased him around the room.

“Stop that!” Layla screamed, “go in the kitchen so I can fix you somein eat!” Layla yelled with tears in her eyes.

       “Ma-Me why you cryin?” Nita asked.

      “I’m not cryin. Get in the kitchen,” she said as she wiped her tears.

Layla finished the sandwiches and then started cleaning the living room. She knew that her mom was right, she could handle her father. Sadie often started the fights out of her frustration of wanting Joseph to change his ways. The fights occurred when Joseph had been away from home for days. Sadie would demand to know where he had been and with whom. His response was mostly the same, “Gawn woman and leave me alone,” he would say. Then she would get angry and pick up a shoe, or whatever was close, and throw it at him. Sometimes he would just laugh but sometimes, like today, he would get mad. He would always repeat the same words when he hit her, “Don’t I take care of you and these here chilin? What do you what from me?” Then he would leave again. 

     Grassy Creek was a small town, so Layla knew where he would go. At the moment the most recent woman was Melanie Foster. She did hair out of her home but rumor was that since Joe Porter started hanging around her she didn’t do much hair anymore. Layla remembered when she and Jordan saw Melanie in the A&P.

“Y’all Joe Porter’s youngan’s?” She asked, knowing who they were.

“Yesem,” Jordan replied.

“Y’all some fine, chillin.”

       “Thank you Mam.”

     She was cordial and Jordan was civil with her. He didn’t like her at all. She was a few years older than him. Her clothes were half a size too small, exposing firm breast and a tightly round bottom. Jordan always thought she was too lovely to walk around looking as if she was selling herself. She reminded him of the ladies who walked down on Bakker Street. He often wondered if that’s where his father had found her.

       Layla had just finished picking up the last piece of glass and organizing the last piece of furniture when her mom came in. She had been drinking, and had a brown bag in her hand.

    Ma-Me can you fix me some eggs,” she said as she walked down the hall toward the bedroom.

Juanita ran out of the kitchen. David followed her laughing and throwing his shoe at her. Layla ignored them and headed toward the kitchen.

Jordan came in through the back door and was roaming through the refrigerator when Layla entered the kitchen.

“Jay Pee, how long you been here?” Layla asked surprised to see him.

Jordan sighed sounding tired, “I just walked in,” he said.

“I need to fix Mama some eggs.”

“She been drinking?”

Layla took a deep breath and said, “yeah.”

“Look after your brother and sister. I’ll fix her something.”

“Jay Pee did you see Papa?”

“No.”

       “Did you go back to work?”

“No.”

“Where you been?”

Layla’s questions was annoying Jordan. When he looked in her face he smiled.

“Ma-Me, I have always wondered why we call you Ma-Me. Now I know.”

She threw her arms around him and said, “I love you, Jay Pee.”

“I love you too Ma-Me.”

Layla left the kitchen only to return minutes later.

“Jay Pee there's some policemen at the door,” she said.

“Police. What do they want?”

“They’re asking for you.”

Jordan followed Layla into the living room. There stood two officers. One was big and rough looking. He held a stick in his hands. The other officer was young and handsome. He was tall and slim with smooth skin, and he did the talking.

“My name is Officer Ryan. Are you Jordan Porter?”

“Yes sir, I am.”

“We would like for you to come down to the station to answer some questions.”

“What is this about, sir?”

“Someone robbed the A&P and we need you to answer some questions.”

“I left work—"

“Son, there won’t be any trouble if you just come with us.”

“Am I under arrest?” Jordan asked.

The other officer spoke up, “Are you coming nicely or do I have to put these cuffs on you?”

Jordan turned to Layla and said, “Ma-Me get Mama.”

Layla returned with their mom and the big rugged looking policeman was putting handcuffs on Jordan.

“Sam, get those cuffs off him! There is no need for that,” Officer Ryan was saying.

     Sadie came in demanding to know what they wanted with her boy.

Officer Ryan spoke, “Mam, we just want to ask him a few questions.”

“Well ask him,” she said as she put her hands on her hips.

“Mam we need him to come to the station.”

“I have a good boy. What’s he pose to done?”

      Jordan interjected, “Mama, I haven’t done anything. I swear.”

Officer Ryan was getting impatience, “Mrs. Porter,” he said, “if he comes to the station with us—we’ll answer all your questions.

“Alright if I come?” Sadie asked.

“Yes Mam that would be fine.”

Sadie told Ma-Me to call Nanmu and ask her to sit with them until they got back.

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Author: Jessie Xavier

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