Pandora's Box

by Allison Hobbs

  Victoria’s anxiety deepened as she thought about Jordan’s future. She regarded Jonee as crude and unrefined, yet Jonee had made her keenly aware that Jordan’s early education could not be left to the public school system. She had thousands of dollars in designer crap in her closet and not one penny toward her son’s education. She had planned to register him for kindergarten in the neighborhood elementary school. It hadn’t occurred to her to start shopping around for a private school.

  “So what do you think we should do?” Jonee asked anxiously.

  “About what?”

  “About getting that little wench out of here!”

  “I’m not comfortable with that, Jonee. I don’t like the karmic implications.”

  “The what? Oh no! Here you go again talkin’ that hoodoo shit.”

  Victoria laughed a deep hearty laugh. “Karma is cause and effect. There are consequences for our actions that determine our destiny. I can’t knowingly…”

  Jonee interrupted, humming the theme music from The Twilight Zone. Victoria and Jonee shared thigh-slapping laughter. The sound of it alleviated the tension as it echoed in the meagerly furnished room.

  “All right, girl,” Jonee said. Wearing a wry smile, she continued, “I don’t want to have to worry about that karma mess or anything else following me around, so have it your way. We’ll just sit tight and watch while Miss Chocolate Candy Bar makes all the money.” She gathered her purse and glanced at her image in the mirror panels. “Hurry up and get dressed. I’ll save you a seat in the lounge.”

  Victoria selected an aqua teddy with interwoven metallic thread that she’d worn before and had made lots of money. Perhaps she could recapture the magic. As she admired her image, her thoughts drifted to Kareem. He had promised to call, but hadn’t. After all her sulking and pouting she couldn’t blame him. She should have at least made an attempt to convey her confused feelings, but instead she became morose and ruined the good time Kareem had planned for them.

  But it was probably for the best, Victoria surmised. Her life was so complicated, out of balance, and unfocused. She grimaced, imagining that the imbalance in her life had changed the color of her aura to some dark, murky, unpleasant hue. Yes, it was best, she concluded, not to involve Kareem or anyone else in her disordered life.

  The doorbell sounded as soon as Victoria was seated comfortably in the lounge. Pushing past Lauren and Sydney, Jonee led the pack to answer the door. Hershey advanced slowly with a predatory gaze fixed on the door. Her movements resembled a cross between slithering and sashaying, which made Victoria distrust the girl. In an effort to put distance between herself and Hershey, Victoria did not leave her seat until she heard Jonee begin the sales pitch.

  Harvey, an old Jewish man who’d been patronizing Pandora’s faithfully for years, was in the lobby, holding a bundle of gladiolas. Harvey owned a shop on Jeweler’s Row and was known to be an excellent tipper. He’d been seeing Lauren regularly for months, but like most customers, Harvey was fickle and apt to change his favorite girl at any time. Desiring to win him over, the girls who knew him offered their most alluring smiles and provocative poses. Harvey grinned, exposing a mouthful of ill-fitting dentures. Unaware of Harvey’s reputation, Victoria gave a thin smile; Harvey looked like the type who preferred white girls. Hershey wore a serious expression and assumed a sort of B-girl stance, with her legs apart, her fists balled, arms crossed in front of her.

  Parkinson’s disease or some malady brought on by age, along with the excitement of being in the company of six tantalizing, young women, caused Harvey to tremble and shake uncontrollably as he considered his choices.

  Apparently tired of standing still, Hershey suddenly broke from her pose. “My name is Hershey, the baby chocolata, whatever you want, you know that I got-a…” The words came out in a syncopated rhythm that was so unexpected and startling, mouths gaped and then, gasps, tsks, and nervous giggles were heard. Undaunted, Hershey continued, writhing snake-like to the beat. “So, baby, come with me—and I’ll take you to ecstasy…”

  “Hold up!” Jonee commanded. “What the fuck is up with that shit? This ain’t no Rap City.” She inched closer to Hershey. “And who you ’spose to be? Lil’ Kim or somebody?”

  Hershey’s lips curled back in a snarl. “You better back off bitch, and get your old ass out of my face.”

  “Old ass!” Jonee and Victoria both exclaimed, though Hershey was referring to Jonee only. Being a lot older than she admitted, Victoria was personally offended. The words struck like a sudden slap; Jonee looked staggered by them.

  “Who you calling old ass!” She lunged at Hershey. But Hershey was ready. She had been fighting her entire young life and was programmed for battle mode at all times. Both hands flew up; her fingers were curved in a clawed position. In an instant, sharp nails slashed Jonee’s face, leaving four angry red stripes down each cheek.

  Rover viewed the fight on the monitor and made it down the hall in several bounds. As he grappled to separate the two hissing and spitting brawlers, Lauren stealthily maneuvered a distressed Harvey away from the ruckus to an empty session room.

  Breathing heavily, Harvey eased down into the hard chair. He extended to Lauren the flowers that he clutched in a trembling hand.

  “I’m sorry you had to be in the middle of that fight. The black girls are always fighting. They really give this place a bad name.” Motivated by the anticipation of a healthy tip, Lauren lovingly caressed the sparse hair on the top of Harvey’s head. “I’m going to ask the manager to give us some extra time,” she cooed. Her hand left his head and began stroking and smoothing out the wrinkles on his face. “So, if you pay me now, I can go take care of the books while you get undressed and relax.”

  Harvey nodded. He looked grateful for Lauren’s tender concern. “You’re such a pretty girl. A sheyna meydele,” he said in Yiddish. “And you’re a good little girl, too.” Harvey pinched Lauren’s cheek. Feeling better, he winked at Lauren as he handed her the fee. “Go. Put those flowers in vater before they vilt. I have a surprise for you later.”

  Warmed by the thought of an extravagant tip, Lauren left the room smiling.

  Carrying the flowers and the money for the session, Lauren entered Rover’s office. She was surprised to find Victoria there, pacing nervously. Curious about what was going on, Lauren handed Rover the money then slowly wrote her entry on the lined sheet of paper on the desk.

  “You gotta vase, Rover?”

  Rover gave her a you-gotta-be-kidding look.

  Lauren shrugged. “Well, hold onto them for me until my session is over.” Rover didn’t bother to respond.

  “Oh yeah, I need some condoms,” Lauren lied to prolong her stay. “The gold pack,” she added, remembering that Rover hadn’t brought them up from the basement.

  “Okay, give me a second, Lauren,” Rover said absently. He returned his attention to Victoria.

  “Pleasure! Read my lips—the answer is No!” Rover said, forcing a stern expression.

  “Why can’t I give her a ride home? She can’t pay for a cab because she hasn’t made any money. And I didn’t bring any money with me, otherwise I’d pay for the cab.”

  “Jonee is suspended because she started the fight. Don’t get involved. If she doesn’t have cab fare, she can just get on the bus. And don’t tell me she doesn’t even have the price of a bus ride.”

  Victoria appealed to Rover with pleading eyes. “Rover, she doesn’t want to be seen in public with her face looking like that. And she’s in a lot of pain. Can’t you bend the rules, just a little? It shouldn’t take too long for me to drive her home—I’ll jump on the expressway and be back before I’m missed.”

  “Rules are rules. I don’t make them; I just enforce them. It’s your call. If you leave without permission, you’ll be suspended.”

  Victoria squirmed uncomfortably. “Suspended? For how long?”

  “I don’t know, Pleasure. Until Gabrielle says you can come back. Who knows?” Rover softened his voi
ce. “Why risk it? Do you think Jonee would jeopardize her job for you?”

  “That’s not the point, Rover. My request is not unreasonable; I should be able to leave for an emergency. If something happened to my son, would I be suspended if I had to suddenly leave?”

  “But we’re not talking about your son. Jonee is a grown woman with too much mouth and too little self-control. Jonee is not this fragile little person you’re making her out to be. She’s a real wildcat who can take care of herself.”

  The numerous rules at Pandora’s Box were ridiculous. Victoria wondered about the sanity of the mysterious Gabrielle who treated them all like children and controlled their fate without ever stepping foot on the premises.

  She weighed her options. With only two hundred dollars in cash, she couldn’t afford a suspension, but she took great exception to being told that she couldn’t assist Jonee. Being backed into a corner with the threat of suspension didn’t sit well with Victoria. With the realization that she couldn’t compromise her principles, an image of the thick wad of money that she had cheerfully handed over to a smiling bank representative flashed in her mind. Victoria yearned for the security of it. If worse came to worse, she’d just have to cash in the CD, lose the interest and pay whatever penalties were involved.

  “Do what you have to do, Rover. I’m going to take Jonee home.” The decision brought Victoria immediate relief.

  Rover shook his head and produced a sad smile. Having overhead the entire exchange, Lauren beamed with satisfaction. Catching Lauren’s expression, Victoria realized that had Lauren not been within earshot, Rover might have been able to cover.

  Lauren did not take her friendship with Gabrielle lightly; she would call Gabrielle and repeat Rover and Victoria’s conversation, word-for-word.

  CHAPTER 26

  Jonee brooded. The bravado she’d shown earlier was gone. During the silent drive to her apartment, she sat with her head hung low. Searing pain made her keenly aware of every scratch on her face, but despite the discomfort, her fingers were drawn to the angry grooves etched into her skin.

  “Should I turn here?” Victoria asked, breaking the silence.

  Jonee lifted her head. “No. Turn left at the next stop sign.” She spoke in a tone that was cautiously low as if an increase in volume would intensify the pain.

  If you could get beyond the false lashes she always wore, Jonee’s best feature was her eyes. Dark, wide eyes that twinkled with excitement were now hooded and murky.

  Victoria wished that there were something she could say to console Jonee, but no comforting words came to mind.

  Throngs of Jonee’s neighbors were flocked outside her apartment building enjoying the spring-like weather that had finally arrived. They watched as Victoria struggled to maneuver her car into a tiny parking space in front of the building, with the concentration of spectators at a major sporting event.

  “I can stay with you for a while Jonee? Do you want me to come inside?”

  Jonee nodded.

  There was no way for Jonee to conceal the crimson-colored scratches on her face. Ignoring the curious glances and the nervous chuckles, she and Victoria rushed past the neighbors and went inside the building.

  OUT OF ORDER was crudely scrawled on a cardboard sign and propped up against the elevator in the lobby.

  “We have to take the stairs,” Jonee said in a flat tone.

  “To…?” Victoria asked.

  “The fourth floor.”

  Victoria scowled.

  Jonee’s apartment was an untidy obstacle course. Dirty laundry stuffed in trash bags was lined up at the front door. Victoria had to step over toys, and maneuver around boxes and other obstructive objects that were scattered about in the living room.

  Angrily, Jonee flung her workbag across the room, adding to the chaos. She stomped into her bedroom; Victoria followed.

  The cramped bedroom that Jonee shared with her son looked like it had been ransacked. Contents streamed from bureau drawers that were too crammed to close.

  Jonee examined her wounds in a cloudy bureau mirror and burst into tears. “I’m gonna kill that bitch,” she declared, sobbing, then collapsed on the bed and buried her face into a pillow that was already streaked with lipstick and mascara. Strewn onto the unmade bed were two damp bath towels, a child’s pair of jeans, a Rugrats tee shirt. Crumpled jeans and a top lay on the floor next to an overflowing wastebasket. Victoria looked around in amazement. Jonee’s bedroom—the entire apartment was a pigsty. Victoria wondered what was going on with Jonee. Then, hit with sudden clarity, Victoria felt compassion; she understood that Jonee’s environment reflected her inner turmoil. Like Victoria and all the others, some painful event must have driven Jonee to Pandora’s. Victoria sat next to Jonee and put her arm around her friend’s trembling shoulders. She couldn’t recall ever comforting an adult. It was an odd sensation. Despite Rover’s words, Jonee appeared forlorn and fragile.

  “I feel so embarrassed,” Jonee confessed. Loosened by tears, her false eyelashes hung by a thread of glue. Oblivious, Jonee continued, “How could I let that little young bitch fuck up my face like this?”

  Trying not to focus on the dangling lashes, Victoria replied, “I guess you didn’t expect her to react so viciously. I was shocked. But Jonee, you have to take some responsibility for what happened.”

  “I didn’t touch her stank ass!” Roused by indignation, Jonee sat straight up. “Look at my face! That bitch gouged my face and I’m the one who gets suspended. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about? Why should I take responsibility?”

  Victoria chose her words carefully. “Rover saw you advance toward Hershey. It looked like she was just defending herself. Even if you and I know that her response was uncalled for, and extremely violent, you have to admit that you created that situation.”

  “How did I create the situation? Was I was supposed to shut up while she pulled all kinds of dirty tricks to get that customer?” Jonee sucked her teeth and finally pulled off the gooey pair of false lashes. “I’ve seen some rank, crazy shit in my life, but I ain’t never seen no shit like that.” She held the lashes in her palm and observed them for a moment before tossing them on top of the pile in the wastebasket. “I don’t know where that bitch thought she was at, performing like she was at The Source Awards.”

  “That’s how she chose to express herself,” Victoria responded. “Why did you let it bother you so much? Don’t forget I’ve seen you in action and I know how much you piss off the other girls when you get greedy for customers. You’ve been accused of doing some pretty underhanded things yourself, Jonee.” Victoria smiled to lessen the severity of her reprimand.

  “I do what I have to do when the money’s slow. But, I do the normal type shit that all hoes do when it’s slow—flashing a little bit…rubbing on my stuff. But that bullshit Hershey did was ridiculous. She made all of us look bad.”

  “How did her actions make us look bad?” Victoria asked, her brows knitted. “You wanna know what I think?”

  Jonee stared back, defiant.

  “I think you were so afraid that you wouldn’t be able to make any money with Hershey around that you…”

  Jonee huffed up and opened her mouth to protest.

  “Wait a minute, Jonee. Let me finish. On some level you relinquished your money to her—you sabotaged your efforts when you responded to her…her rap presentation. You gave away your power.”

  “Please don’t start talking that deep shit again, okay? ’Cause I don’t wanna hear it. Damn! Can we ever have a normal conversation without you going there? Why do you have to analyze everything, Pleasure? That shit is nerve wracking.”

  “I analyze things because I’m always searching for answers. I’m as confused as you are,” Victoria said sadly.

  “Speak for yourself. I’m not confused,” Jonee shot back.

  Victoria continued. “I really believe that everything we say, do, or even think, creates our reality. It’s clear to me that you created t
hat situation with Hershey.”

  Jonee shook her head. “So since you know so much, why are you whoring at Pandora’s? Why ain’t you signifyin’ at some university? How come you’re not writing books and making a bundle like that Eyona woman?”

  “Iyanla Vanzant,” Victoria pointedly corrected her.

  “Yeah, her.”

  “I‘m at the massage parlor because I have no idea what I’m doing or where I’m going. The choices and decisions that I’ve made have brought me to this point. But my journey certainly doesn’t end here. For now, I’m just putting one foot in front of the other—going with the flow. I’m just biding my time and I hope that I can emerge from this unscathed. You know what I mean?”

  “No, Pleasure. I don’t,” Jonee said, sighing.

  “It feels like I’m in some sort of limbo existence, but I know that’s not possible. I’m creating karma every time I walk through the door of Pandora’s.” Victoria paused, lost in thought. “I wonder sometimes if prostitution is good or bad? I just don’t know.”

  “You know damn well it’s a sin to sell your body,” Jonee remarked ruefully. “And you know we’re all going to burn in hell.” She lit a cigarette and slowly blew out a stream of smoke. “But I’ll cross that bridge later,” she added, grinning.

  “I’m not even sure if I believe in the concept of sin, or good and bad. Before I came to work at the massage parlor, I was in a lot of pain. The pain is still there, but I’ve managed to mask it—put a Band-Aid on it. Let me try to explain…at times, the very thought of going to work and being touched by all those men makes me crazy.” Victoria wrapped her arms around herself. “But then at other times—I really like it. Not the sexual act, per se—the money. I like the money. I like being chosen. I get a physical rush when I’m putting on make-up, choosing outfits, preparing to compete—it’s therapeutic.”