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Xpress Yourself Publishing, June 3, 2008
ISBN-10: 0-9799757-1-9
ISBN-13: 978-0-9799757-1-4
5½ x 8½ inches
Trade Paperback
$15.00

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BABA EVANS MOORE is an award-winning author of While the Village Sleeps, The Pastor's Letter, and Just A Picture in a Frame. As the recipient of the Falcon Edge Male Taskforce's Men of the Millennium award, Baba is now blazing trails in family literacy. He is a strong advocate for parents to read a variety of books and to urge their children to read. He resides in Maryland and is currently a Parent Educator in the DC Public School's Toyota Family Literacy Program.

Baba's novel, An Extraordinary Affair, was released June 3, 2008 by XYP.  Visit Baba online at BabaEvans.com.

Chapter 1

Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

The sun had not yet risen over the vast Atlantic Ocean, spanning Myrtle Beach and the South Carolina coast. In the early morning darkness, the waters appeared calm and peaceful, as the sound of waves crashed against the shore, sending up a soothing mist, temporarily breaking the morning silence. The only image visible to the naked eye was a long wooden pier, stretching out from the beach into the water, resembling an archer’s arrow in motion.

As if a black curtain hung over the sky, it was a flat moonless night at four in the morning. On Route 1, as the car moved slowly along the main thoroughfare, as if the driver was looking for something in particular, it pulled into an all-night diner. Without two words between them, a woman and man climbed out of the dark sedan and ambled inside. Almost empty, except for customers seated at two separate tables, the couple chose a table near the door. Each grabbing a tattered, grease-stained menu, securely propped between salt-and-pepper shakers, they silently pondered over their breakfast order.

On cue, a tall, very thin, waitress, showing the effects of standing on her feet night after night for a few measly tips, moseyed over to the table with coffee pot in hand. “Mornin’, folks,” she warmly greeted, as she poured hot, steaming black coffee into each cup.

The couple remained silent.

Noticing their unwillingness to be cordial, she shrugged, reached into her apron pocket, pulled out four small individual cups of cream and sat them on the table. “What can I get you folks?” Retrieving the pencil from its resting place nestled behind her ear; she tapped the lead on the small steno pad.

“The special, with a large orange juice,” the man mumbled, without offering up the warmth of a smile.

Coyly, the woman followed suit. “I’ll have the same.”

Despite her tired feet, she smiled widely and said, “Coming right up,” before strolling away.

Behind them, a young couple, with wildly colored hair, sat by the window, staring silently into their plates, obviously stoned from the earlier night’s activities, and heaven only knows what else. Across the isle, a man and woman sat in a booth coddling two crabby children whose sleep patterns were obviously interrupted either from riding all night or from missing the comfort of their own beds.

Returning, the waitress placed their orders in front of them, and stood quietly, awaiting an approval she never received. She refilled their coffee cups, and then expertly placed the tab on the table in front of the man, before walking away.

****

“Why did you snatch me away from Atlanta to bring me here?” blurted the woman in a loud voice, obviously upset with her companion.

“I did not snatch you,” said the man. “You got into the car by yourself.”

“Yes, you did.” Her voice escalated as she looked around the restaurant. “You kidnapped me. And where in the hell are we anyway?”

“Myrtle Beach, South Carolina,” he said, downing a mouthful of scrambled eggs, hoping she too would eat her food and stop talking so loud.

“Myrtle Beach!” Flinging the fork onto her plate, she stared at him and snarled, “I don’t believe it. What in God’s name are we doing in Myrtle Beach?”

“Lower your voice,” he demanded, looking around, hoping they were not overheard. “People can hear you.”

Becoming belligerent, “I don’t give a damn who can hear me,” she yelled even louder. “I’m ready to kick your ass, mister! Now I’ll ask you one more time. Why are we in Myrtle Beach?”

“Because you talked so much about your friend,” he fumed without looking up from his plate, “I decided this was as good a time as ever to bring you here to visit the friend you’ve been bragging about.”

“Friend? What friend are you referring to?” She stared him down coldly. “You don’t know any of my friends, especially anyone in Myrtle Beach.”

“Yes, I do, Siobhan.” He looked straight at her, with a watchful fixity in his face. “I know about Anamarie.”

“Anamarie?” Perplexity danced all over her face, at him knowing the name. She glared with contempt. “Ah ha, so that’s it. You’re upset because I take off my clothes and dance in front of men. You can’t take them looking at my naked body. You’re an old fashion bastard, Edward!” Standing she tossed her napkin onto the plate, and proceeded toward the door.

With embarrassment, he stood up, placed twenty dollars on the table, to cover their meals plus a tip, and rushed behind Siobhan, grabbing her by the arm. “Let’s get out of here before you cause a mess,” he barked.

“Get your hands off me,” she snapped between clinched teeth. Snatching her arm away and, in a huff, she followed behind slowly as he marched outside toward the car.

After driving a few blocks in silence, the sedan pulled into a nearby service station. “Time to refill the gas tank,” he confirmed, glancing at her.

            Still upset, and like a scolded child, Siobhan sat with her arms folded across her chest and silently watched Edward walk inside the convenience store to pay for gas. Then without provocation, she bolted from the car, darted across a dark and deserted Route 1, and onto the beach. Frantically racing across the sand, not looking back, she jumped up on the pier, and fled as fast as her feet could carry her toward the end.

Meanwhile, Edward returned to the car and began pumping gas, unaware of Siobhan’s escape. After filling the gas tank, he walked over to the driver’s side, and opened the door to his discovery. Where did she go? I know she wasn’t behind me, he thought.

Traipsing toward the sidewalk, he looked up and down the empty road. Nothing. Not a sign of her. However, something about the pier commanded his attention. Jumping into the car, he sped across Route 1, into the beach’s parking area. As he climbed from behind the wheel, the shrill of a female’s scream pulled him toward the pier, where he spotted Siobhan running to the end.

“Oh, no,” he cried out. “She’s going to jump into the ocean.”

Overwhelmed with panic, Edward’s heartbeat accelerated as he leapt up on the pier and ran frantically toward her, all the while hoping she would not take her life.

“Siobhan, Siobhan,” he shouted, desperately running for life, hers. “Wait, wait.”

Slipping several times on the wet wooden slats, each time, he caught hold of the railing, pausing to steady himself, catching his breath, before continuing. Grossly physically out of shape, he was no match for the fleeing woman.

Finally, after stopping within five feet of her, completely exhausted, and guilty, he stretched his arms outward and pleaded to her. “Don’t do it, Siobhan. Please, it ain’t worth killing yourself. You have too much to live for.”

Hearing him calling out to her, Siobhan reached the end of the pier and didn’t turn around. Instead, she leaned over the railing and gazed down at the frightful incoming tide. Confusion and indecisive thoughts rambled through her head: Go with him. No, stay away from him. Go back to Atlanta. No, stay in Myrtle Beach. Jump in the water and take your life. No, stand your ground. Give in to him. No, fight for your rights.

Feeling his presence, and with apprehension, cautiously she turned around to see him bending over like a broken limb, breathing rapidly and tightly affixed to the wooden rail.

With one hand tightly gripping the rail, she outstretched the other toward him in warning. “Get away from me, Edward! Don’t come any closer.”

“Okay, okay,” he managed through heavy pants. “Hear me out. I won’t come near you.”

“Why are you trying to control my life? You are not God.” She watched as he struggled, trying to answer, attempting to make one last appeal.

“I’m trying to do what’s right. You see, it’s killing me, knowing what you do at night.” Standing upright, he took in a deep breath, exhaled and shook his head in disappointment. “Dancing naked in front of those men make me the butt of the jokes among my friends. I feel demoralized, less than a man. I can’t take it, Siobhan, what you’re doing to me.”

She felt pity, hearing his confession, but it was not enough. “I don’t believe that. You’re a stubborn, southern-born, black man who can’t accept the fact that his black woman can show her body to white men and still come home to her black man.”

Good girl, Siobhan, said her conscious. That’s it. Fight for your rights. Finding newfound confidence, she squared her shoulders, walked past Edward and turned to face him. “You can take me to Anamarie now.”