Page 104 of Certified to Handle You 3

I ain’t have my music loud ‘cause I had been enjoyin’ the quiet more lately. The island already had enough sounds of its own, and I liked hearin’ the water when I passed certain areas or people talkin’ outside the shops.

I took a pull off the blunt and blew the smoke toward the open window before smilin’ to myself.

When I got back to the villa tonight, I was bookin’ my flight. I ain’t know if I was leavin’ tomorrow or the next day, but I was done extendin’ the shit just ‘cause I could. Two weeks was enough. I felt better than I did when I came, and that was what I needed out this whole trip.

For the rest of the day, though, I ain’t wanna do shit but go sit on the beach. I had a bottle in the back, my weed was good and I had everything else I needed in my bag. I planned on findin’ somewhere away from everybody, pourin’ up and lettin’ the rest of the day do what it was gon’ do.

I drove another fifteen minutes before pullin’ into the lot near one of the quieter beach areas I had found earlier in the week.

There was people out there, but it wasn’t packed like the spots closer to all the restaurants and stands. Most of the families and tourists stayed near the main entrance, and if I walked far enough down, I could usually find somewhere I ain’t have to hear nobody’s kids screamin’ or somebody playin’ music right in my damn ear.

I parked the truck, grabbed my bag and reached behind the seat for the bottle. After lockin’ the doors, I headed toward the beach and took my time walkin’ through the sand. I ain’t mind the heat, especially with the breeze comin’ off the water. It was warm enough to feel good without makin’ me feel like I needed to go hide somewhere under some air.

I kept walkin’ until I found a spot off to the side where nobody was too close. I pulled the towel out my bag, laid it across the sand and sat down before stretchin’ my legs in front of me.

The water was right here in front of me, movin’ in and out while the waves slapped the shore.

Back home, I used to feel like I needed to always be movin’. If I wasn’t out somewhere, I was answerin’ my phone, pullin’ up on somebody or findin’ somethin’ else to do. I could sit in the house for a few hours and start feelin’ like I was wastin’ a day. I ain’t know when the hell that started changin’, but somewhere between gettin’ older and life beatin’ the shit outta me a few times, I started understandin’ why peace mattered.

I reached in my bag and pulled out the weed, then broke some down and rolled another blunt. Once I got it lit, I grabbed the bottle and poured some liquor into the glass cup I brought with me. I took a sip before settin’ the bottle back down and leaned on one arm while I looked at the water.

I ain’t turn into no completely different nigga just ‘cause I came out here and sat by the ocean for two weeks. I still liked goin’ out, and I still liked bein’ with my people. I just ain’t feel like I needed all the extra shit around me all the time no more. There was somethin’ about sittin’ somewhere with my own thoughts and realizin’ they ain’t always have to be fuckin’ loud that made me look at things different.

I took another drink and sat here lookin’ at the water while the breeze moved over me. I thought about callin’ Kay’Lo later and tellin’ him I was bookin’ my flight.

I missed my niggas…

I missed my family too…

I took another pull and watched the smoke disappear in front of me while I thought about the villa. I was gon’ go back, shower, order somethin’ to eat and book the first flight that made sense. I probably needed to pack tonight too, ‘cause I knew my ass would wait until the last minute if I left it for tomorrow.

I was still thinkin’ about that when I heard somebody call my name.

“Renza!”

I frowned and turned my head toward the main part of the beach.

At first, I figured somebody had said somethin’ close enough to my name and my brain picked up on it ‘cause I wasn’t used to hearin’ nobody out here call me. I hadn’t made friends with nobody in Amiri.

I brought the blunt up and looked at it before takin’ another pull. “This shit ain’t that strong.”

I shook my head and looked back toward the water.

Then I heard my name again…

“Renza!”

This time, I ain’t brush it off ‘cause the voice sounded different. It was louder, and somethin’ about it made me sit up straighter. I turned around and looked toward the stretch of beach behind me while tryna figure out where it was comin’ from.

There was people walkin’ closer to the water, a couple families further back and some women sittin’ under an umbrella, but none of ‘em was lookin’ my way.

I kept my eyes movin’ while I listened, and for a second, I started wonderin’ if the damn weed really was fuckin’ with me.

Then I heard my name one more time.

“Renza!”

I stopped movin’, ‘cause I knew that voice.