Retrieving my phone from the nightstand drawer, I turned the alarm off before it started beeping. As usual, my nightmares had me awake earlier than I had to be and before everyone else. Unless there was weed and liquor in my system, I’d probably never get any rest. The downers put me down. And when they wore off and my body sobered up, I was back up looking for mood depressants.
“Wake and bake, Cal,” I yawned, shaking my husband awake while at the same time blowing a cloud of good-good into his face.
“Morning, bae.” His voice was raspy. Inhaling the smoke I blew out, he reached for the blunt to get his first hit of the day out of the way.
Thankfully, since two days had passed, we were back in a good spot. Sometimes he’d be the first one up, especially if the night before was a long one, but usually, I was the early riser in the morning. Today, for example, I’d already walked around my entire house, making sure things were exactly how I left them when I went to sleep. I’d peeked in both Benzie’s and Porsha’s rooms, watched the limbs of trees shake outside, and timed how many seconds it took for Calvin’s chest to rise and fall as he breathed in his sleep.
I’d roamed in the night since I was a kid due to my terrible sleep habits. Mainly because I was tormented in my sleep with nightmares all ending with my mom dying by my dad’s hand. The psychiatrist told me to keep that shit to myself ’cause it sounded like I’d committed premeditated murder when I killed him. I did exactly as I was told because there was truth in her words. Keeping it bottled up, however, didn’t stop me from living with the truth.
“What are you thinkin’ ’bout, Trin? I can tell the levers in that wicked mind of yours are cranking,” Calvin questioned me, sitting up in the bed, still puffing.
“Nothing but a whole lot.” Choosing not to weigh our morning down with the heavy drama I’d been carrying since I was a young’un, I spoke only about the lighter tasks for my day. “I’ve gotta go meet up with Porsha’s guidance counselor about her grades and graduation, then meet up with my sisters for lunch. What’chu got up?”
“I’ll get to that in a second,” he nonchalantly responded. “Did you get that care package together for Mack’s baby momma? I dropped a few bucks in her donation bucket but told her you’d be falling by.”
Not having any money to bury Mack, his baby momma was doing shit I’d never heard of to come up on the cash. She started a GoFundMe, stood on the corner begging for change a few times with a bucket, and even posted flyers all throughout the hood saying she’d even take things to help support her and the baby. Mack wasn’t the type of nigga muthafuckas cared about, so in addition to the $100 me and Cal gave her, she’d only raised $200. Wasn’t nobody giving for the dead when they themselves could barely live.
“Yeah, I got another few hundred dollars for her, plus Porsha bagged up all of Benzie’s old clothes and toys. After this donation, the Jackson family contribution has been maxed out. Agreed?” I might’ve felt sorry for Mack’s baby momma, but sympathy only went so far. And hopefully she didn’t get to acting ungrateful and make me snatch all this shit right back.
“No doubt, agreed. You didn’t have an argument coming from me about that.”
“Good. Now tell me what you’ve got up for the day, and don’t tell me ‘in a second’ again.” I let him know I’d heard his li’l blowoff.
“Me and Fame got a meeting with the connect, and then we gotta lock it in for a few hours to cook up. The numbers from yesterday were short because they ran out of product. Street hit my line late last night trying to get a re-up, but I told him I’d get at him after three. I need to be up and outta this bed and making moves.” Taking another hit of the blunt, he finally passed it, then made a move on me instead of out of the bed. “Let me get some of that good-good to wake me all the way up first.” Leaning over, his big body covered my entire tiny frame.
“Um, naw! You know I can’t get wet if I know we’re missing out on money. Get up and to work,” I snapped, pushing him off of me. As bad as I wanted an early morning fill-up of Cal’s dick, I’d get a dose of it after he got some bundles back on the streets. Out of the bed and leaving him disappointed with his dick in his hand, I trotted out of the room and toward Porsha’s. It was time for the Jacksons to get their day started.
PORSHA
Saturday and Sunday had been long, rough, and gruesome for me. Trinity had me on the punishment from hell. I hated school, but I was anxious to get there today. When I’d gotten back with my dad’s car and a blazing hot attitude about seeing Jamika with Street, Trinity slapped me with a chore list and my first set of printouts about counterfeit money. Not only did I have to familiarize myself with the topic, but I got tested on the sheets once I told her I was done studying them as well. Trinity was always the last one laughing when it came to money.
On my hands, my knees, stepstools, and ladders, I’d cleaned the entire house from top to bottom and every room. Trinity had me up by 6:00 a.m. and working in three-hour shifts with an hour break in between until I passed out from exhaustion. Until well after the sun set, I did late spring cleaning inside and outside. My mother didn’t believe that girls should be excluded from manual labor. I’d cut the grass and painted the porch rails a fresh coat of chocolate brown. One thing was for certain—I’d never need a man to hold my own.
In contrast to most of the times when my father took up for me, he’d allowed my mom to do what she wanted with regard to my punishment so he’d remain in her good graces. That was if you asked my opinion. The more Trinity focused on me, the less they argued. My dad was sacrificing me so he could get some peace. All weekend long, for the first time ever, I’d been wishing out of my window on the few stars above the hood that they’d get into it. This hell of a weekend must’ve been my karma for helping Street scam my dad.
Without a phone, computer, or tablet, I’d been banned to only reading about counterfeit money during my spare time. I couldn’t even daze off and daydream, because every time I did, the visions were of Street, and I’d get mad. I couldn’t wait to get my fiery ass back on the block. I knew I threatened to tell my dad about him and me, but my dad couldn’t deliver the pain I was carrying for gettin’ played. I had to battle for my bitter heart on my own.
“A’ight, it’s morning time and time for school! Wake up, Porsha.” My mom burst into my room.
“I’m up,” I yawned. Today marked the day I was getting off punishment, getting all my stuff back, and getting from up under her evil ass. She should’ve known I’d be awake and counting down the minutes. Hell, I knew how many hours there were until I turned 18. ’Cause on that day, I’d dare a muthafucka to speak the word “punishment” to me.
“I bet you are,” she said, handing me back my electronics. “You better hope you don’t find yourself back being my little slave without all this shit and locked in this room until you’re grown. I’ve got a meeting with your counselor at eleven thirty.”
I rolled my eyes, wishing the next few weeks would fast-forward by and be over. School was definitely becoming an annoyance for me. “I know, and Dad already told me to have my behind in every class every single day until graduation.” I paraphrased what I’d heard, halfway giving the topic my attention. I was too busy powering my phone back on. Forty-eight hours out of the loop had driven me straight crazy.
Trinity noticed me half giving her my attention and brought me back to reality real quick. I mean, real, real, quick. “You ain’t learned shit over this weekend and must still got me twisted. I’ll break this muthafuckin’ phone off in ya ass before taking it a third time.” She snatched it out of my hand. “When I’m talking, put it down and pay attention. Do you understand me?”
I quickly nodded, thinking that my birthday would be here soon enough, setting me free. “My bad.”
“Good. Now let’s try this again. Is there anything you need to tell me before the counselor gets a chance to? Don’t let me get up there and be embarrassed or caught off guard when you can come up off the bullshit now.” My mother wasn
’t holding me up this morning.
Making sure I didn’t fidget with my gadgets, I set them down and kept my eyes fixed on hers. “You won’t be surprised, Ma. I ain’t did nothing more than what they’ve already sent a million notices home about. And after today, I promise you won’t have to see another administrator from my school.” I made a promise I was for sure I could keep. Trinity didn’t want to go to the school. I didn’t want her up there. On that topic, we agreed.
She laughed. “Okay, Porsha. You can save all that bullshit for them counselors and teachers you’ve gotta impress into not making you attend summer school. I couldn’t care less one way or the other if you don’t waltz ya ass in here with a degree on time. That’s money I can save from spending on your party, a prom dress, and a graduation outfit.” She was bluffing. My mother wanted me to get my diploma and wouldn’t accept anything less. That was why I had not been pulled out and home-schooled.
“Anyway, you can go ahead and get ready. We’re walking up outta here in an hour so I can drop you off, then go pay ya granny’s house taxes before it gets too crowded downtown. If I’m running late to our little meeting with ya counselor, tell her I’ll be there and what I had to do.”
“I thought you weren’t paying Granny’s taxes.” I was shocked hearing my mother say she was going to do something she’d cursed against for so many months. She and my aunties had argued and damn near come to blows over my mother refusing to help my grandmother save her home.
“Stay in a child’s place,” she snapped. “The only worry you need to have is making sure that counselor doesn’t say a word I haven’t heard. Be ready in an hour, Porsha.”
Not willing to take Trinity to a level of rage, I rushed to get dressed. Being that I’d been on punishment with nothing to occupy my free time, I’d organized my closet and bagged up all my old stuff for Imani. I’d also picked out the perfect outfit to return to school in. Girls and dudes alike were always checkin’ for the threads I was draped in. I stayed rockin’ name-brand clothes on my ass and legitimate jewelry in my ears, on my wrists, and around my neck. My daddy kept me in diamonds, and my momma taught me how to rock them. I was a spoiled brat, but what dope man’s daughter shouldn’t be? Hands down, I was the best dressed kid in the entire school, and I was barely there.
Once I made sure my look was on point, my purse had a few pads in it for the period I was expecting, and my book bag was dusted off and sat by the door; I finally gave my phone some attention. It was almost full to capacity but still loading up with notifications. I’d missed a helluva’ lot being on punishment and unplugged. Sitting on the side of my bed, I clicked on the message icon, ready to read through all my text messages first.
Bang! Bang!
“What was that?” I murmured to myself, caught off guard by the sudden noise coming from downstairs.
Bang! Bang!
When it came louder than before and closer, I got a bad feeling. It was like time stood still, but not for long enough.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
I then heard my mother scream out bloody murder.
“Detroit Police!”
“Y’all dirty muthafuckas better not touch not one person in my family. I swear on my life,” my dad shouted right before he squealed out in pain.
“Check the house, and clear it out from top to bottom. Go.” A cop’s command sent an army of footsteps treading through my house.
Leaping up, realizing we’d been hit with a raid, I dropped my phone and ran for Benzie’s room. Over all the loud commotion and everyone shouting, I heard him screaming and crying. I needed to get to my little brother. I needed to soothe and protect him. Not because I’d been taught to protect family. But because I was all Benzie knew outside of our parents.
As soon as I swung the door open, my heart sank deep into my stomach, and I pissed on myself. A long stream of hot pee. I’d been to the bathroom this morning and had not felt a sensation to go since, but I guessed instant fear had taken over. The big, masked white cop scared the shit out of me. I couldn’t see any part of his face but his beady blue eyes.
“Got another one,” he called out to his cop friends, throwing me face-down onto the hallway floor.
Within seconds, my hands were handcuffed behind me, but I wasn’t allowed to sit up. After he ran and checked the rest of the places in our house that his buddies weren’t, he came back to me. The whole time I’d been on the floor, I’d been looking side to side, watching the policemen’s every move and calling out to Benzie that everything was going to be okay. I couldn’t even feel bad for myself for feeling terrible for my little brother.
When the cop finally peeled me off the ground and walked me into the living room, tears immediately began streaming down my face. The man I thought of as a superhero was cuffed, beaten, and bleeding from his head.
“Y’all are dirty as hell! I wish death on all y’all muthafuckas.” I spat venom, meaning each cold-blooded word.
“I see you’ve got a live one,” a lady cop smartly commented, looking just like the cop who roughhoused me out of my room, with the same set of beady blue eyes.
I ignored her, more concerned with my bloodline. “Daddy! Dadddddy,” I cried out, wanting the protection of my father.
I was scared for myself, but my fear for him was tripled. He was the kingpin, the dope pusher, and the head of our drug-rich family. He was also the murderer who’d just gotten blood on his hands behind cleaning up my slipup.
With a black cop’s hand over his mouth, he couldn’t respond. He looked like he was ready to bite the pig’s hand off, though. Even beaten up, he still had a spark of spunk in his eyes. If I had known that Monday arriving represented all of this mayhem and these unfortunate circumstances for my family, I wouldn’t have wished it here. My mother’s punishment, yeah, I’d take that ten times over right about now.
“Where’s my momma? Where’s my brother? Y’all better answer me and let my daddy go, you dirty-ass pig muthafucka.” I was going absolutely crazy with my mouth.
“Ya daddy gonna get let go of, all right. Right into the jail system for the rest of his life,” the cop who was covering my dad’s mouth spat. “We’ve got a couple of witnesses in protection saying he killed two men, mutilated a dead body, and then committed arson. And with all the drugs and illegal weapons my partners are finding, ya momma gonna be locked up as a co-conspirator.”
“Fuck you. That’ll never happen.” I was cocky, believing that my parents were untouchable even with us in the middle of a raid and cuffs on my wrists.
The cop chuckled but didn’t respond in any other way to me. He didn’t move his hand from my dad’s mouth, either. I was piping hot, especially when I heard glass breaking, things hitting our walls, and them continuously tearing our house up. There were cops running from upstairs to the trap downstairs, collecting everything illegal they could find. I wanted these intruders out, but I knew they weren’t leaving without my dad.
“Instead of me breaking your daughter’s heart, I’ma give you the pleasure of letting you do it, Calvin Jackson. You might as well tell her whatever it is ya need to say before we haul ya ass up outta here. It’s gonna be a long time before you two get to communicate. You already know what happens when we raid and break up families.” The cop then took his hand off his mouth.
My dad hung his head low. It was like his soul died a hundred times within five seconds. He ignored the cop’s devilish laugh and responded to me with a cracked voice.
“Listen up, baby girl. Life is about to get a whole lot harder for you before it gets easier. If I get out of this, it’ll be a miracle I probably don’t deserve. Do your best to stay tough, and remember what I taught you about taking care of Benzie and all the shit I’ve drilled in you as far back as you can remember. Less talk and more thought. Tell me you understand, Porsha.”
I knew exactly what he meant. And that was to keep my mouth closed about everything. “I understand, Dad,” I barely responded, in disbelief that this was happening. I wanted to
wake up, but everything around me was a reality.
My dad’s words began sinking in as they pushed him out of the front door of our home, leaving me feeling emptier and more lost than I’d ever felt in my entire life. As the sirens of the police car he was in got fainter, my meltdown couldn’t be contained. I cried, screamed, begged the cops to bring him back, and even asked God to deliver a miracle my dad didn’t think he deserved.
“Mommmyyyyy! Benzieeeeee!” I screamed out for the two family members I had left in the house, realizing that my brother wasn’t crying anymore and I had not heard my mother but once earlier.
My hands were cuffed but not my feet. I ran toward the lady cop like a football player. I threw my head in front of me so it would lead the way and tackle her backward by the gut. She moved in time, making me the only one to fall. I was in panic mode, anxious, terrified, uncertain, and any other word that described petrified.
“You’ve earned a quicker trip to the group home, li’l bitch. I was gonna give you a few minutes with ya momma and brother, but ya fucked that up,” she spat. “See, your mother is going to jail behind ya dad’s murders. Which means you and your little brother will be transferred into the system until their cases are over. We always give the kids a little time with their parents before splitting the families up, but since it was just fuck me, fuck you!”
Sounds familiar.
I growled, pissed that I was handcuffed. If I had been free, I would’ve tagged her ass worse than I’d done Jamika. “I hope you suffer the same pain I’m feeling. And a li’l bitch, I’ll be that. When I get out of juvie, you’ll see just how much of a bitch I really am,” I warned her.
“You people always have bigger dreams than y’all can achieve. Now turn around and let’s go. Try another stunt on the way to my squad car and I’ma shove this joystick up your asshole and get you prepped for juvie,” she mocked me, totally amused.
Shorty Gotta Be Grown Page 16