Jamal awoke to the smell of brewed coffee. The door to the closet was slightly ajar. Apparently, Charles had risen from his makeshift bed there and tiptoed from the room earlier. Jamal looked at the clock beside the bed. Normally, he'd have to get up and rush off to work, but he'd arranged to have Jenine, a coworker, take over a couple of shifts for him. He was free as a bird. He stretched under the sheets, fluffed his pillow, and lay back to consider how he'd spend his day.
For one thing, he'd be getting whiteboy on track as to how to behave in his presence, and how to attend to the upkeep of the apartment. He felt he should get organized around these issues. Later in the day, he promised himself, he'd sit down and draw up a plan.
Jamal threw the covers back, got up, and walked barefoot from the room. He wore plaid boxer shorts, his preferred nightwear. He stepped into the living room and looked around. The place was neater than it had ever been, he reflected, and he hadn't lifted a finger! He walked into the kitchen where he knew he would find Charles. He was sitting on the floor in the corner sipping from a cup. He immediately rose up onto his knees, clearly delighted at the sight of Jamal.
"Good morning, master." he said softly, looking up.
"What you makin' all that racket for, dumbass? Can't a man sleep in his own house?" Jamal said, scowling.
A look of alarm crossed Charles's face.
"I tried to be very quiet, sir! Really I did. I'm so sorry, please..."
"Shut your ass up and bring me a cup of coffee." Jamal said, heading for the living room.
Soon, Charles emerged from the kitchen with a tray. He knelt and carefully placed it on the coffee table. On it were a cup of black coffee, a small pitcher of milk, a small bowl with sugar cubes, and a demitasse spoon resting on a paper napkin.
"What's all this shit?" Jamal said.
"Master, I wasn't sure how you liked your coffee, so..."
"Alright, alright. Just leave it. Where'd you get that tray from?"
The tray was black laquer with a hand-painted floral design on the edges. "Sir, I bought it yesterday while I was shopping." Charless said. "I thought it would be useful in serving you, sir."
Charles sat back on his heels, his hands folded in his lap. He wore only his briefs, his 'uniform'. He cast his gaze down and smiled.
"I said WHERE did you get it from, not when." Jamal said impatiently.
"Oh! Sorry, sir! Yes, well, there's an antique store on Amsterdam, and I saw it in the window."
Jamal leaned forward and stirred milk into his coffee. He sat back and sipped. He put his feet up on the table, crossed at the ankles.
"Put a pillow under my feet, boy." he said, though there were several small pillows right beside him on the sofa.
Charles rose up gracefully, and selected one. He waited beside the table for a moment holding the pillow.
"you got to lift my feet before you can get a pillow under them, fool." Jamal said. "Didn't they teach you that at your private school?"
"No sir. " Charles said, reaching with one hand and lifting Jamal's feet. Jamal laughed.
"Well, whiteboy, they missed that part of the curriculum!" he said, chuckling as Charles lowered his feet onto the waiting pillow.
"They supposed to prepare you for your role in life. Isn't that right?" Jamal said, "Man, I'm bettin' there's more than a couple more of you rich white boys there just itchin' to be in your shoes."
"I'm very lucky, sir." Charles said, coloring slightly.
"You got that right, bitch." Jamal said. He sipped at his coffee.
"Bring the coffee pot out here and top me off." Jamal ordered.
Charles checked the pitcher and brought it with him into the kitchen to refill. He returned, poured the coffee, then resumed his position.
Jamal's cell phone rang.
"Yo. Hey, Terrell. How you doing, cuz?" Jamal said.
He held the phone to his chest and addressed Charles.
"How 'bout a foot massage, asshole? Don't just sit there." he said, bringing the phone back to his ear.
"Nah, took the day off. Got things to do around here, if you know what I mean?" Jamal said mischievously.
"Yeah, he right here... Uh huh,... that's right, bro. Yeah, he shapin' up okay."
"What you mean, 'come over'? Terrell, I ain't runnin' no party here."
"No. I said NO! That's just two letters. You can figure that out." Jamal said.
He listened for a moment then laughed. He looked at Charles who was rubbing the soles of his feet.
"I got to get him trained, dude. Broke in, you know?"
Jamal wriggled his toes.
"Hold on a sec, bro." he said, and put the phone on mute.
"Now you can start kissin' my feet, boy." he said, then returned to his conversation.
"It takes time, but he payin' attention real good... " Jamal laughed.
"That's right, he sure do like his reward." Jamal said, watching Charles's soft lips caress his feet.
"Look, I said 'no'. Maybe next week...(pause)... hell, he ain't got no say in it!" Jamal said, his brow furrowing angrily. "What kid of question is that? He do what I say!"
Jamal listened for a few moments.
"Alright... yeah, maybe. You gonna be at Micky's later?... I might drop by. ...Okay. Later."
Jamal put the phone beside him.
"A friend of your's, sir?" Charles said.
"Who told you to talk, boy"? Jamal snapped.
"I'm sorry, master." Charles said, resuming his attentions to Jamal's feet.
"Goddam dummy." Jamal, said, still clearly miffed at his friend's ignorance.
"You know what he asked me? He asked me if it was okay with YOU if he came over here."
"He knows about me, sir?" Charles said between kisses.
