B-More Careful

by Shannon Holmes

  “I got you. Why don’t you chill? You know I got you, yo,” Major said, over and over and over. So much that it shouldn’t have been about dough. Only Netta didn’t get that it was never about no pussy with Major; he simply liked her style. Hoes were everywhere in his world. He wondered about things like that, especially when she asked him questions that revolved around how he felt about her and his paper.

  The next morning, Netta called Major first thing and she told him the news of her mother. Major was in the game, and he understood. There was a lot of dope fiends becoming infected with the HIV virus. When Netta asked him to get her an apartment where she could live with Renee, he agreed.

  She then went to Mimi’s house. First thing was some graduation gifts to open. She sat with her extended family and told them the news of Renee. She explained why she was moving out to stay with her mother. It’s hard to think of words to thank a person when they extend you hospitality, give you love and take you in. How? They had exposed her to a side of life, family and love, that she had been foreign to all her life. Tears flowed freely from Tina and Mimi. They just couldn’t help themselves. Netta stood strong, though. She had to for her own sake and her mother’s.

  Upstairs, Mimi helped Netta pack her things, even though she didn’t want her to leave. As they packed, Netta and Mimi reminisced over the years and the times they shared. Netta, who was unusually upbeat considering the circumstances, stopped Mimi in her tracks.

  “I’m not the one dying. I’m only moving out. Calm down,” Netta joked.

  Mimi wasn’t joking though. She liked having Netta around. Netta was the sister she never had. Who would take control when shit got out of control and who would stay on her about guys, school and fashion? Who would sit up and listen to her stories in the middle of the night when the lights were out? Netta always did her part and Mimi was so accustomed to her being there, she couldn’t help but feel saddened.

  As they were stuffing the last suitcase, Netta casually mentioned her new car.

  “Oh, Major bought me a BMW for my graduation. He’s the one that stole the Honda. Look, it’s parked outside,” Netta said.

  Mimi rushed to the window, landing her eyes on a burgundy 535i BMW glistening in the sun. She felt a tiny tinge of jealously, but she concealed it with a big smile and a hundred and one questions about the car.

  After two hours of folding clothes and carrying bags to the car, they were done. They were alone in the room, sitting on the beds facing each other.

  “Well, dog, I guess this is it,” Mimi said, disappointedly.

  “Hell, naw! I’m only changing my address. We always gonna be family until the e-n-d!” Netta said, meaning every word of it.

  Life with Renee took a lot of getting used to again. For her mother’s sake, Netta put aside their differences. She wanted her mother to have peace in her final days. Still addicted to heroin, Renee wanted, and needed, her daughter’s help to kick the habit. She didn’t want to meet her maker as a junkie. So, she went cold turkey.

  Her first few days clean, Renee was sick as a dog. She sweated profusely, vomited repeatedly and had pain from her bones aching. She thought she was going to die right then and there. Bedridden, she lost her appetite. Her bowels were working overtime and she had loose grippers unable to make it to the bathroom half the time.

  Under the care and watchful eye of Netta, she fought a valiant battle against her demons. The poison was slowly leaving her body, day after day. She wasn’t just doing this for herself, she was doing it for her daughter. This was her way of saying, ‘If I can do this, you can do anything. You can be anything in life you wanna be. The choice is yours.’ Her kicking the habit was good therapy for both of them. This was the best anti-drug message that a parent could send a child.

  After witnessing Renee’s violent withdrawal and recovery, there was no way in the world Netta would ever get high off dope. At her mother’s bedside she stood vigil. She talked to Renee, giving her positive reinforcement and letting her know she was loved and cared for. Netta walked her through it, day after day. Then, one morning after four torturous days, it was over. Renee awoke rejuvenated ready to face another day. Netta and Renee celebrated her victory with a big breakfast Netta prepared. Renee wolfed it down and made her cook more.

  Just as family life was beginning to resemble some normalcy, tragedy reared its evil head and Netta was hit with yet another one of life’s cruel blows. While trying to elude the cops on his motorcycle, Major crashed head-on into another oncoming car. He died on his way to hospital.

  Netta placed the phone by her side as she dropped her arm. She stood there in disbelief. No, there was no way, no way he could be gone.

  Just like that, he was gone from her, taken away. The steady beeping sound could be heard and Netta looked at the receiver. Tremendously and deeply saddened, Netta placed the phone on the receiver. She didn’t cry, though. Netta had realized a long time ago that death befalls everybody sooner or later. For some, it’s more tragic and dramatic, and for others, it’s quieter and slower. She found death easier to accept when it stuck the elderly. However, when it struck the young, it made her ask the rhetorical question, Why?

  Life does go on for the living. Netta picked up the pieces and kept moving. She first attended Major’s closed casket funeral, paying her last respects. At the funeral home, she came in contact with many of his other female concubines. However, Major’s cheating ways didn’t bother her at all. In fact, she expected it. It was a man’s nature to stray. That’s why she rationed out the sex to him. She gave it up only when she wanted to. Netta overlooked his shortcomings. In exchange, he took very good care of her. It was a trade-off. One hand washed the other, but they both washed the face and when it was all said and done, she had something of Major’s none of his other broads had. Netta had his stash.

  Netta was holding some major paper for Major and had played her position well. Not only did she have some of his loot, but nobody knew. He was so secretive about his business with everybody, with everyone except her. He never took anyone to her house or told anyone where she lived. So, the money was all hers by default.

  During her period of mourning, Netta turned to Mimi. Now, more than before, they had a lot in common: tragedy. Mimi’s presence helped take her mind off the cloud of misery that hovered over her. They also had some catching up to do. Netta and Mimi hadn’t seen each other in months. Netta filled Mimi in on the details of the accident and the money she came into as a result of Major’s death. Miss Mae had always told her, everything isn’t for everybody. So, she placed the amount of money in the chump change range, claiming to have only come into $20,000, when in actuality it was more like $80,000.

  While Netta dedicated herself to taking care of her mother, Mimi was doing her thing as usual. She formed a little gold-digging clique. They called themselves the Pussy Pound. They were just a bunch of chicks she ran into at the clubs every week. Getting good in the game, Mimi came up on cash and jewels. She was able to trade in her Honda Prelude for an Acura Legend.

  Though Netta and Mimi saw each other less than they planned, they were still tight. Whenever they could, they spent quality time together, just talking, shopping and hanging out. Each unloaded their problems on the other.

  Mimi was on bad terms with her mother again. She thought Tina was trying to steal her son away. The truth was Mimi had neglected her responsibilities by running the streets and her son had bonded with her mother.

  Meanwhile, Netta was still dealing with death while trying to live her life. At times like these, Netta was overjoyed to have Mimi’s company. It broke the monotony of being with her mother 24/7. Mimi was a crutch to lean on, someone to share her feelings with. Mimi was someone who’d always be in her corner and vice versa, or at least she thought.

  As winter rolled around, Renee’s health took a turn for the worse. She steadily lost weight, despite all the food and protein shakes she consumed. Wasting away, Renee was losing her battle with AIDS. Her immune system was wea
kening and the fight to count numbers was a losing battle. A shadow of her former self, all she was now was skin and bones.

  Watching her mother’s condition worsen was painful for Netta. She insisted on taking her to the hospital, but Renee refused, knowing that the doctors would only prolong her inevitable death. She wanted to die with something she never lived with, dignity. For Renee’s last days on earth, Netta catered to every last need. Day and night, Netta was right there by her side. Often, they’d talk late into the night or until Renee was too weak to speak. Netta couldn’t help it, it was learned behavior from sharing the room with Mimi those past few years. Sometimes, habits don’t die. Netta used this opportunity to question her mother about her life prior to her birth.

  “Renee, how was your childhood?” Netta asked, inquisitively.

  “I had a decent childhood. I was an only child like you. I didn’t have everything I wanted, but I had everything I needed,” she said, letting out a long hard cough that rocked her body and the walls of the room.

  Then she continued, “My life was fine until dope hit the city back in the 60’s, then daddy got caught up in that mess. After that, momma wound up losing the house. So me and momma had to move into the projects.”

  “Where’s granddaddy and grandma now?” Netta asked.

  “Well, daddy died of an overdose that same year he started using. Back then, dope was dope. It was way more powerful than it is today. Momma died young, when you was still a baby,” Renee said.

  Her voice got weak. It hurt her to speak about her mother. She went on just to satisfy Netta’s curiosity.

  “Some people say momma died of a broken heart. They say I was the cause of momma going into an early grave,” she said, ashamed of the many titles she had carried throughout her life.

  “After daddy died, it was just me and momma against the world, ‘til your daddy came along. From the door, momma was against me seeing him. She didn’t like him. He came around in his big fancy cars and momma knew what he did. She hated hustlers and drug dealers. She always said they were the bloodsuckers of the poor. Momma warned me not to fool with your father. She said he was bad news and she wanted more for her daughter than some damn drug dealer, but I didn’t listen. I chose a man over my own mother,” Renee said, trying to hold back her tears.

  Netta listened to all this and barely said a word. This was her history, her family tree. Never in all her life had her mother ever talked to her, really talked to her, about anything she needed to know until now. This information merely whetted her whistle for more. She was thirsty to know more about the mystery man she never knew, her father.

  Renee filled in the blanks as best she could, but she only partially satisfied her daughter’s curiosity. Deliberately, she ignored the issue of Netta’s father’s identity. But, Netta wouldn’t leave well enough alone. She pushed the issue.

  “Renee,” Netta softly called, interrupting her mother’s story.

  “Yeah, Netta?” her mother asked, too weak to turn her head.

  “Well, I … I … was just wondering, how come you never, not once, mentioned who my father was?” she said, asking the one question she needed the answer to.

  The question caught Renee off guard, although she knew one day it would eventually come. From the day he walked out of their lives, she hadn’t mentioned his name in her house since. Now, Netta had just opened up a can of worms and Renee was forced to conjure up the past.

  “Well Netta, it’s a long story. But to make a long story short, your father chose the streets over us. I hated that man for running away from his responsibility. I hated him for so long after that… If I ever saw him again, it would be too soon,” Renee said, angrily.

  “I understand how you feel about him, but did you ever think about me? That maybe someday I might want to meet him?”

  “Netta, that’s your father. He ain’t never been your daddy. That nigga knew me and you was living in them damn projects, and he ain’t lift one finger to help us out,” Renee said, as her temper and her voice rose. “He was too busy making babies all over west and east Baltimore.”

  “Do you think I should meet him?” Netta asked, innocently.

  “Child, I can’t make that decision for you. You grown now and that’s a bridge you have to cross on your own. Yes or no, it ain’t for me to say. After all, he is your father and no matter what or how I feel about him, we can’t change that. All I can tell you is where to find him,” Renee said, catching her breath.

  That’s all Netta needed to hear. That’s all she ever wanted to know. This was the moment she had been waiting for ever since she was a kid.

  “Well, who is he?” she asked.

  “They call him Dollar, but his real name is Willie Johnson. He ain’t hard to find. He owns a couple of bars in West Baltimore. Just ask around, everybody knows Dollar,” Renee said with confidence. That was all the information Netta needed.

  Well, if that was all Netta needed to hear, she damn sure didn’t need to hear anything else. She looked at her mother as her head turned toward the window. Renee didn’t say anything else about Dollar. Netta decided never to question her mother again, especially now that she had all the information she needed.

  It wasn’t long after Netta had arrived home from running errands that she realized Renee had passed while she was gone. Her wide-eyed, lifeless body lay in the bed, staring right through Netta as she walked through her mother’s bedroom door.

  “Mom?” Netta called out. It sounded so funny, the words just echoed off the walls and bounced into nothingness. Slowly, she walked across the room looking every bit of a kindergartner about to discover something new. This discovery was DEATH. She had never seen a dead body before.

  “God, please take my mother and wrap her in your love and shield her so she will have no more pain. Please, God.”

  Just then Netta heard Miss Mae’s voice.

  “God comes for all of us, promising nothing more in life except one day you will die. There are no promises for success, no promises for wealth, no promises for happiness, love or health. The only thing for certain in life is death. It’s what you do in between life and death that counts.” Then Miss Mae’s voice disappeared.

  Netta bent down next to her mother’s body as she stroked her mother’s forehead and cheekbones. Renee had finally lost her battle with AIDS. Netta calmly, with two of her fingers, closed both her mother’s eyelids.

  “I love you, mommy,” she said.

  Kneeling down next to the bed, she bowed her head next to her mother’s body. She prayed her mother was right with the Lord before he took her soul. She prayed that her mother was free from all the hurt and pain in whatever place she was.

  “Please let me see my mommy again, God. One day, one day, let me see her again and would you tell her I love her so much. I always did love her. God, you know that. Please tell her for me. I will miss her so much. She’s not here no more,” Netta whispered.

  There was no time to grieve once the call had been made to 911. The responsibility for handling her mother’s burial fell on her. Maturely, Netta tackled the task and made the necessary arrangements. She decided to cremate her mother’s remains. Her decision was solely based on the deteriorated condition of the body. Netta didn’t want anybody to see her like that. She wanted people to remember Renee the way she was.

  After the cremation process was completed, Renee’s ashes were placed in an urn. There was only one thing left for Netta to do, honor her mother’s last wish. With her ashes in the urn, she drove downtown to the inner harbor and scattered Renee’s ashes in the waters of the Chesapeake Bay.

  Now, Renee was finally free. Free from the pain, free from disease, free from the shame of her many titles and free from the addiction that haunted her most of her adult life. She was free, like the angel she was always meant to be.

  “I will miss you Mom. I love you. I always did.”

  Chapter 8

  With only one remaining parent left, Netta couldn’t get her father out
of her mind. It was time to seek him out. She wondered whether or not she was doing the right thing. Would he even acknowledge her as his daughter? Would he deny her very existence, forever leaving her a bastard child? She could ponder these questions forever, but there was only one way to find out for sure.

  One thing that her mother had been absolutely right about was the popularity of her father. Dollar’s name was still ringing bells after all these years. Locating his whereabouts was easy. She simply asked some prominent hustlers she knew, and they told her about a bar he owned in South B-More. It was a popular hangout for old timers on Saturday nights.

  The following Saturday night, Netta went to Sandtown and slipped into Legend’s. The bar was packed so she blended right in with the regulars. The party atmosphere inside the bar took on a late 60’s flavor, with all the old Motown records being played real loud. This was like a paradise for old hustlers who managed to survive in the game. Here they could relax and reminisce over days gone by.

  Netta found herself a seat in the corner, where she sat nursing a drink. Patiently, she watched and waited for the man called Dollar. Since she didn’t have a clue as to what he looked like, she examined every man closely. Anyone of them could be her father. She scanned the sea of faces looking for the slightest sign of physical resemblance. She saw none. Netta soon realized that her hearing would be her guide and her greatest asset, since her eyes might possible deceive her. She began to listen intently for the name Dollar.

  About an hour later, in walks a tall handsome dark-skinned man. On his arm was an attractive brown-skinned young lady. He made a grand entrance and was greeted by a chorus of greetings.

  “Hey, Dollar Bill! What’s happening?” one man yelled.

  “Yo, Dollar! Long time no see,” another said.

  He was the life of the party. He joked and mingled with mostly all of the patrons in his bar.