The Bed You Make: An Urban Hood Drama

by Tamicka Higgins

  “Hurry up and pull off, nigga!” John yelled, looking toward the other end of the block, where police cars were bound to emerge any second. “Nigga, what the fuck is you waitin’ on? Hurry up and pull the fuck off! Fuck the car. The shit is prolly gon’ get towed anyway.”

  Camron nervously fumbled with his keys until the engine of his truck started up and roared. His tires screeched as he pulled off, turning the next corner just in the nick of time, the sirens behind them indicating the police had turned onto the block. The next several minutes back to their house were tumultuous for the three of them. They relaxed a little bit upon pulling up out front and going inside.

  “Fuck that shit!” John said, throwing his fist into a wall. “That nigga got my fuckin’ phone, car, and my car keys. I don’t fuckin’ believe that chick Imani got me caught up in this kinda bullshit. I don’t fuckin’ believe this shit.”

  “Calm down, John,” Judge said. “Just chill the fuck out! We gon’ get that nigga. Don’t you fuckin’ worry. He can’t hide forever. We gon’ fuckin’ get that nigga. I could see by the fuckin’ look in his eyes that he just the kinda nigga I wanna catch up with. He look like one of them niggas that need to be taught they lesson and shit. This shit is fucked up.”

  As the night went on, they all calmed down. Within an hour, the police still hadn’t come knocking at their door, so they felt better about the situation. John, on the other hand, fumed with his gun in his hand. He hated that he’d had the chance to get Race back and had missed it. Soon enough, his anger and resentment had built up to dangerous levels. Usually, to access his Facebook account, he’d hop onto his phone without a second thought. Not having his phone, he went and got his laptop. On the living room couch, in front of Camron and Judge, he logged into his computer and went straight to his Facebook account. Since everybody in the hood was practically connected in some way, whether they liked it or not, John knew that putting his feelings on Facebook would surely get the message back to the right person.

  John positioned his fingers on the keyboard then posted: I HOPE THAT NIGGA DON’T THINK THAT I’M NOT GONNA CATCH UP WITH HIM.

  He closed the laptop and looked across at Camron and Judge. “I’mma fuckin’ kill that nigga,” he said. “He a dead man walkin’.”

  CHAPTER 2

  There was nothing Imani loved more than to come and visit her sister Jasmine and her two kids. Her niece and nephew were so precious that there were times she’d thought about going to stay with her sister permanently. If nothing else, she could help her raise her children when their father couldn't, for whatever reason, be around. Imani watched them play at the playground in her sister’s apartment complex, feeling as if her life had been turned upside down in the matter of days.

  “Girl, you cannot be serious?” Jasmine asked, turning away from a small grill where she’d been grilling hotdogs for her kids. She put her hand on her wide hip, swaying her massive thighs side to side. “You was up in there with another nigga and Race came walking in?” She shook her head and looked out at the playground, checking to make sure that her kids hadn’t run out into the parking lot. “I mean, really?”

  Imani looked away, almost feeling ashamed from the pleasure she’d gotten from John that night. It was perfect—possibly the best dick she’d ever gotten, or at least had gotten in a long time. She rubbed her forehead. “Girl, yes,” she said, having just finished telling the story. “We was layin’ in bed after gettin’ it in when Race came walkin’ through the door. I can’t fuckin’ believe that shit. And he said that he wasn’t gon’ be back in town for a couple days.”

  “But, girl, Imani, why?” Jasmine asked. “Why you do some shit like that if you know how Race is gon’ react all crazy and shit? Plus, I don’t care what you say about Race…That nigga got money.”

  “That he do,” Imani said. “But, shit, girl, I don’t know what to fuckin’ say. Race is so controllin’ and all about himself that I was just tired of that shit. I wanted some of John, even if the shit was wrong. Girl, that shit was so good.”

  “Was it?” Jasmine asked, leaning in to hear more details. Since she was a single mother of two children, her love life wasn’t exactly flourishing. Rather, there were times she felt desperate from the selection, or lack thereof, of men to choose from. Listening to her sister’s details only helped her to feel alive again. “What was his dick like?”

  “Dark, long, fat, and hard,” Imani said, smiling.

  “Girl!” Jasmine said, shaking her head. “You wrong for that.”

  “I know,” Imani said then shrugged her shoulders. “But, you know what? I mean, really? You know what? I had really been thinkin’ of cuttin’ that nigga Race off. Cause, I mean, everything is about him. He don’t even care if I’m happy. And the nigga don’t even really eat pussy like that.”

  “Girl, you know a lotta niggas don’t eat pussy like they should,” Jasmine reminded her sister.”

  “I know,” Imani said. “And that’s cool and all, if you got everythin’ else in check.”

  “And you said that Race sent that nigga, whatever his name is, walkin’ home without no pants?” Jasmine asked. “That sound like some crazy shit.”

  “Yeah, it was crazy,” Imani said. “That’s why I was waitin’ for Race to do his thing and not be there cause girl that dick was so damn big and I just couldn’t help myself. I see why them bitches over in the hood be talkin’ about it. That nigga could be a fuckin’ porn star and shit.”

  “Yeah, well,” Jasmine said. “Girl, you betta be careful before you wind up bein’ the star of one of them unsolved murder mysteries or somethin’.”

  Imani playfully tapped her sister’s butt. “Jasmine, girl, don’t say that,” she said. “For real, for real. Don’t say that. I mean, it’s been a couple days since I came over here to stay. And I ain’t even heard shit from Race yet.”

  “I bet,” Jasmine said. “Race is prolly already layin’ up with some other chick.”

  “I know!” Imani said. “That’s the very same shit I was thinkin’ when he came in the door actin’ all crazy, talkin’ about my pussy belong to him and all that kinda shit. I mean, girl, I thought he was gon’ kill that nigga. I’m glad he didn’t.”

  “And the other nigga?” Jasmine asked. “I forget if you said what his name was and shit. But have you heard from him?”

  Imani looked at her sister, feeling guilt come over here. “I mean, I texted him sayin’ that I was sorry,” she explained. “But I ain’t heard nothin’ back from him yet.”

  Jasmine went on cooking her hotdogs, then realized that she’d forgotten some things in the apartments. On her way into the house, she got a phone call from this guy she’d met. She tapped Imani’s shoulder and let her know really quickly what the deal was. Imani agreed to watch her niece and nephew and make sure that they didn’t run out into the parking lot as Jasmine handled her business.

  Imani scrolled through her phone, still cautious about what texts she responded to. Even though it had only been two days since that night she’d been caught with John, she knew how the hood was. Somebody was surely talking about it somewhere. She couldn’t help but notice how many Facebook notifications had suddenly started to pop up on her phone recently.

  A car pulled up in the parking lot. Two girls, one of which Imani knew very well, climbed out. They walked across the playground, not looking the least bit happy. Imani glanced back up at the house, seeing that Jasmine still wasn’t on her way out. Race’s sister, Maya, came walking up with her fists at her side.

  “Hey, fam!” Maya looked like a taller, heavier version of the singer Jhene Aiko. She and Imani had been somewhat cool for quite some time. Now, however, all that had changed. “My brother Race said that we might find you here. I just ain’t think that you was gon’ be sittin’ right out in front like this.”

  There was something about the look on Maya’s face that gave Imani all kinds of bad vibes. She looked at Maya’s friend, who she’d never seen before. The chick looked rough i
n every way possible, including her edges. There was long scar on the side of her face that Imani wondered about, but she certainly wasn’t going to ask.

  “What do you want, Maya?” Imani asked, sensing that this wasn’t a friendly meeting. “Huh? What the fuck you come to my sister’s house for?”

  “Bitch, you need to watch how the fuck you talk to me,” Maya said, stepping closer. Because of the positioning of the sun, Maya’s large shadow reached over Imani in the most intimidating way. “You know why I’m here. I heard you was fuckin’ around with that nigga John on my brother when he got back in town from going to see our sick grandmother.”

  Imani instantly felt her heart jump. She hadn’t been expecting Race to send Maya to defend his honor. With anxiety filling her veins, she glanced back at the house. As to be expected, Jasmine sill wasn’t on her way back out. There was no doubt in Imani’s mind that her sister was probably still on the phone. She always loved to chase a man and entertain his company. When Imani looked back toward Maya and her friend, she looked past her and out at the kids on the playground.

  “Maya, why?” Imani asked in a very serious voice. “Huh? Why you walkin’ up to me and askin’ about somethin’ that was between me and your brother? Huh? Why the fuck you approaching me about this shit right here like this?”

  Maya looked at her friend. The two shook their heads and giggled. “Girl, I ain’t come here to answer questions and shit,” Maya said. “This ain’t no fuckin’ job interview or interrogation or somethin’, girl. I came here to beat that ass. My brother ain’t deserve that shit. He ain’t deserve to walk in on you fuckin’ around with another nigga, especially a nigga like John, who I know you know my brother don’t like.”

  “Beat my ass?” Imani asked, feeling desperate to get out of the situation. Not only was Maya a rather big girl herself, but her friend didn’t look all that fun to fight either. “Girl, is you serious? You know that this ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

  Maya sighed then looked at her friend. She pointed at Imani and everything popped off. Before Imani knew it, Maya had lunged forward. Her arms were swinging at what seemed to be a million miles per house. Imani, of course, tried to dodge the blows, but her efforts were too slow. On top of all that, whoever Maya’s friend was really had hands on her. Not only did she swing fast, but she also hit hard.

  “Yeah, bitch!” Maya yelled, pulling Imani by her hair down toward the ground. “Bitch, I’mma beat that ass so bad you not gon’ have a man lookin’ at you for fuckin’ months.”

  “Somebody get this crazy bitch offa me!” Imani yelled. “This bitch is fuckin’ crazy! Get this bitch offa me!”

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Maya yelled. She slapped Imani across the face, and her friend hit her on the back of the head. Maya smiled, knowing that her brother would be proud. She took pride in knowing how well she could fight, and the fact that no chick in the hood would ever step to her wanting to fight if she knew she couldn’t handle getting beat up badly. And Maya did not hesitate to give a chick the business in front of anybody.

  In so many ways, Imani felt helpless. Every second seemed to take twice as long to pass. The minutes seemed like hours. The scratches were piling up on Imani’s face. Clumps of her hair were spread around the bench where she’d been sitting. Thanks to Maya, the mini-grill had long since been knocked over. The kids came rushing over, begging Maya to stop hitting their aunt.

  “Shut the fuck up little niggas!” Maya yelled. Her attitude and tone were enough to cause the kids to back up in fear.

  “Please, stop!” Imani yelled. “Jasmine! Jasmine! Girl, come get this bitch! She’s crazy!

  Imani’s words were cut off by Maya, who had rammed her head into the bench, then allowed her to fall to the ground. Maya and her friend huffed and puffed as they looked at one another, both thinking of what would be their next move. Maya looked down at Imani, thinking about how she’d never really liked this chick to begin with.

  “Get up, bitch!” Maya told Imani, kicking her in her side. “Get the fuck up, bitch! I hope you don’t think this shit is over and shit like that. Not after what you did to my brother. He over there all fucked up because of you, you triflin’ ass, stinky-pussy bitch. My brother helped you come up with the deposit for your apartment and shit. And look at you! Look at your sorry ass? What you do when you got a nigga who really try’na help you out and shit? You go and suck on some other dick! Bitch, stop all that fuckin’ cryin’! Just accept that you gettin’ that ass beat.”

  The sun seemed to be resting directly over Imani as she looked up toward the sky. So many parts of her body ached. Scratches covered her face, almost making her look like a different woman. Whatever makeup she’d put on when she walked out of Jasmine’s house earlier in the day had either gotten runny from her tears or was obscured by the dirt on her face. She lifted herself up, wishing she had the power to take on these two chicks.

  “Okay, Maya,” Imani said. She got up and started swinging, deciding that she just wasn’t finished yet. “Bitch, I fuckin’ hate you! I fuckin’ hate you, you ugly ass bitch! I fuckin’ hate you!”

  Maya got back into her mode. With the help of her friend, she dragged Maya around the playground. Imani’s arms swung about, albeit slower than when the altercation had begun in the first place, as Maya grabbed her by her hair and held her down toward the ground as she walked her out toward the middle of the playground.

  “Stop!” Imani yelled, wondering where she was being pulled. “Let me go! Let me go!”

  Again, the kids stood around yelling. It wasn’t long before the front door to Jasmine’s townhouse came swinging open. Jasmine dropped her phone and ran out into the grass, seeing that her sister was being pulled out toward the middle of the playground. Maya, with Imani being held by her hair in a bent-over position, pummeled the face of her brother’s ex chick. And she did it with pleasure, going as fast and hard as she could with a smile on her face.

  When Maya noticed that another chick—presumably Imani’s sister—was rushing out toward the playground, she got her friend’s attention and told her to get the other chick. Without thinking, the friend, arms at her side, rushed away. She left Maya giving Imani’s face the business, almost until her arms couldn’t swing any longer. Maya looked up at her friend, who had just swung on Jasmine. Jasmine backed away, looking around in confusion. She told her children to go into the house right away. They hesitated, but did what their mother said and ran up toward the front door.

  Jasmine fared better than her sister when it came to fighting, but this could have very well been because Maya’s friend was a bit tired from beating Imani’s ass. Once Maya saw that Imani had had enough, for now, she let go of her hair and pushed her into the mulch. Imani lay with her face down, almost lifeless. Maya rushed over to her friend and helped get Jasmine under control, eventually holding her in place by her hair.

  “Who the fuck’re you?” Jasmine asked. The excruciating pain from having her hair practically pulled out of her head was just too much. She stopped moving and listened, hoping that her sister wasn’t hurt too badly. Looking out and seeing Imani lying in the mulch, face down, was just too scary. “Huh? Who the fuck is you? What’d you do to my sister?”

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” Maya told her. “Before I beat that ass even worse than that hoe-ass, bitch-ass sister you got out there. I fucked that bitch up. Keep on talkin’ and shit and that’s gon’ be you too.”

  Jasmine, wanting all of this to end more than anything, at least for the kids, ceased moving. “Okay, okay,” she said. She looked at these two girls and knew there was no way she’d be able to beat one of them, let alone the two of them.

  “Tell that sister of yours when she wake up that she got what she got comin’ to her for fuckin’ around on my brother,” Maya said. “You hear me? Tell that hoe that she betta watch her back. I know you don’t really know shit about me, but you betta ask somebody. All I do is beat bitches’ ass, all day every day, and I don’t care where. E
ven if I see that bitch in Kroger, she can get it there too and it can all be on camera. Fuck that bitch! I know that face fucked up right now. She ain’t gon’ be so pretty no more.”

  “Okay, okay,” Jasmine said, just wanting to be let go. “Okay!” she screamed.

  Maya let go and looked at her friend. “Okay, let’s get the fuck up outta here before I gotta spend a night in jail or something,” she said.

  Jasmine, terrified and petrified, watched as Maya and her friend walked back out toward the parking lot. As soon as they pulled up, Jasmine rushed across the playground. She ran up to her Imani, who had managed to turn over. She knelt down. “Oh my God!” Jasmine said. “We gotta get you to a hospital, Imani. We gotta get you to the hospital.”

  Both of Imani’s eyes were swollen quickly bruising. Her face was covered in scratches. Both lips were busted. Patches of hair were missing in various areas on her head. She had bruises on her arms. Each and every one of her recently done nails had broken off, practically making a trail back to the bench. She cried as she got up.

  “I can’t believe that shit!” Imani said as Jasmine helped her up. “Girl, where the fuck was you? You was in the house all that time while I was out here gettin’ my ass beat in front of the kids, on a fuckin’ playground? Is you fuckin’ serious, Jasmine? I was out here gettin’ my ass beat bad.”

  “We gotta get you to a hospital real quick, Imani,” Jasmine said, not knowing what to say. She’d been so into the guy she’d been in the house on the phone with that she hadn’t even stepped up to a window at the front of the house to check. Only after hearing kids yell over and over again—more than what would be normal for kids on a playground—had she decided to go into the living room and check on things. “Come on, Imani. I’mma get you to a hospital.”