by Ni-Ni Simone
“You think we could pull over there?” He pointed to a more secluded section of the park. “I don’t want everybody in the park in our business.”
“Ameen,” I said, “it’s cold outside. It’s nobody even in the park.”
“I just didn’t want to be sitting right here in the entrance. I mean, you could park your car here and ride with me over there.”
I sighed. “Alright, but I’ll drive over there.”
We both drove our own cars to the secluded area and parked them next to each other. Ameen got out of his car and walked over toward me. “Can you step out?” he asked me.
I shook my head no.
“Why are you acting like this?”
I knew I should’ve stayed in the car, but I went against my better judgment, got out, and leaned against the door. Ameen leaned in for a kiss and I turned my head. “No.”
He stepped back and I turned my head back toward him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Ameen had never looked that bad. He had bags under his bloodshot eyes, his clothes were dirty and disheveled, and he smelled of alcohol and weed. “Are you high?” I asked him.
“Man”—he snorted—“I’m some of everything. I’ve been stressing like crazy. You won’t talk to me. And no matter what I try it doesn’t seem to work. Look at you, Zsa, you’re looking at me like I just disgust you.” Tears filled his eyes. “Tell me, please, what is it going to take for me to make this right? I need you and I need for us to be back together again.”
“Ameen,” I said, getting more and more turned off by the moment, “we can be friends. But I don’t want to be with you again.”
“Friends?” He frowned. “What, you wanna be my boy now? Is that what you and that ugly motherfucker that you hang with are? Friends?” He flung the ring on my necklace around my neck with the tip of his finger.
“Don’t call him names.” I snatched my ring back in place.
“Now you protecting this dude?” The vein on the side of Ameen’s neck jumped. “You don’t even care that I love you?”
“You love me?” I swear I almost laughed in his face. “Ameen, when you had me, you dogged me. Like for real, I got tired of that. You ran up on me in the bathroom talking about your girl this and that. So I bounced and gave you what you kept asking for, space.”
“I never asked you for space. And I know I was wrong, and I admit that…but that chick wouldn’t leave me alone. She kept calling me, coming to see me, and everything. You know I’m weak sometimes when it comes to women and that chick kept pushing up. Yo, my head was all confused, so yeah, I made bad choices. And when I ran up on you in the bathroom it was because I felt bad for her. That girl didn’t have any money to fix her car. And you know you shouldn’t have done that, Zsa. I mean…I’ll admit, I went overboard. But I’m sorry and you gotta forgive me. You have to. And plus you all rockin’ it with some other dude. How you think that makes me feel?”
“Ameen, me not being with you is not about you or him, it’s about me.”
“How can you say something selfish like that?” He looked at me with fire in his eyes. “As much as I love you and you gon’ come out of your face like that?”
“Ameen, maybe—you know—this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Oh, now this wasn’t a good idea?” He stood in front of me and placed his hands on both sides of me. “So what you really sayin’!” He mushed me and I slapped his hand.
“Don’t put your hands on me!” I pushed him in his chest. “I’m done. Don’t call me no more. We’re through. And if you call me I’m changing my number and you won’t know how to reach me. You are the worst thing that ever happened to me. My new boo”—I toyed with my necklace—“is the best. Now take that and step to the left.”
Ameen snatched my necklace off of my neck and tossed it into the air. “Who you talking to, Zsa?”
I pushed him in his chest. “You better find my damn necklace!”
“I ain’t finding it! And don’t push me again!”
“This is exactly why I’m done with you! You better find my damn ring!”
“Or what?” He gave a sinister laugh. “What you gon’ do?”
WHAPPPP!!!!!!!! I slapped him so hard that spit flew out the side of his mouth. Ameen turned around and before I could even think about how I shouldn’t have done that, Ameen made me feel like fire was crawling up my face. “You think he’s better than me, Zsa?” He yoked me by my collar and pushed his face into mine. “ANSWER ME!” he screamed.
“No, Ameen, I don’t—”
“You know what?” His breath was hot against my face. “As much as I’ve done for you, this is what you’re doing to me?!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry! But you will be!”
Ameen’s blows felt like they were landing all at the same time.
This must’ve been how my mother felt when my father was beating her up. This must’ve been what all the warnings were about…
I knew my mother was nowhere around, but the memory of her screaming invaded my ears and I could hear my father saying, “Shut up!” and I could hear Hadiah crying.
I tried to fight back, but I was no match for Ameen. I felt like giving up. Suddenly, everything for me went black, and the last thing I remembered was Ameen’s car engine revving and me falling to the ground.
15
Don’t you be ashamed to say he hurt you…
—DESTINY’S CHILD, “GIRL”
I remember blaring sirens, someone asking my name, and someone else taking my pulse. But I don’t remember how I got to the hospital.
My eyes were puffy and swollen painful slits. From where I lay in the hospital bed, all I could see were clean white walls, the doctor, my mother, and Malachi.
“Hey, baby,” my mother said while patting my hand.
I don’t know why but I wasn’t at ease when I heard my mother’s voice. I was tense. I was looking at her and I knew that I was me and she was her, but for some reason I felt like her reflection and I couldn’t stand it. Somehow, I had to get out of there.
My mouth was parched as I looked at Malachi and tried to smile. He smiled back, but I could tell that he felt sorry for me.
“How do you feel?” My mother held a cup of water to my mouth and I sipped.
“Sore and tired,” I said.
“Well,” the doctor said, “you took a pretty bad bruising, young lady. You’ll be sore for a couple of days but nothing is broken and you will heal. Once everyone is done here, I would like for you to participate in a domestic violence group we have here at the hospital for victims. I’m recommending you attend, prior to discharge.” The doctor stepped to the doorway and said, “Call me if you need anything, but I’ll be back in a while to check on you.”
Counselor? Group? Victim? Tears rolled down my cheeks. I felt dumb, like why did I let this happen to me? Why was I laying here with them thinking I was some kind of victim? I didn’t exactly mind labels, but I was not going to own that one. “I’m not a victim and I feel fine,” I said, despite the tears burning from my eyes. “I don’t need to see any counselor or attend any group.”
“I’ll go with you, Zsa,” my mother insisted.
“Zsa.” Malachi walked over to the side of my bed and wiped my tears. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to go.”
“Don’t.” I shook my head, ignoring the pain in my neck and back. “You of all people know how I feel. Don’t insist that I do that.”
I looked at my mother and her face was wet with tears. “Not my child,” she mumbled under her breath. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, walking out of the room.
“Malachi,” I said, feeling him caress my hand. “I’m not weak or anything like that.”
“Zsa, you don’t have to talk about this right now.”
“But I want to. I went to see Ameen.”
“Ameen?” Malachi blinked. “Ameen did this to you?”
I broke down and started crying. “I only went there to tell him to leave me alone, but when he snatched my ring o
ff I lost it and I smacked him. I probably should’ve just stayed home or maybe kept my mouth shut and things wouldn’t have gotten out of control.”
“Ameen did this to you?” Malachi said again. “Ai’ight.” He nodded. “Straight,” he said as if he were confirming a conversation he was having in his head.
“And things just got out of control,” I continued on.
“Zsa.” Malachi kissed me softly on my forehead and then wiped my eyes with the soft tips of his thumbs. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But I did. I should’ve stayed home or not have gotten smart with Ameen.”
“It didn’t give him a reason to put his hands on you!” my mother said, startling me and charging back into the room, followed by a police officer. “You hear me?” She walked over to my bedside. “Don’t you ever let me hear you say that again! The police are here to get a statement from you, and Ameen’s going to jail. Right now, today! Now tell the police what happened.”
I was in shock, like I couldn’t move and I couldn’t erase the flashback of my mother carting me and my sister in and out of the police precinct to press charges on my father. I swallowed. I had to bring myself back to the present and erase the past from dancing before my eyes.
I shook my head no, and I knew at that moment I wasn’t telling the police a thing. It’s not that I was hung up on not being a snitch or anything stupid like that. I just couldn’t bring myself to be like my mother, to warp into her or be some type of victim. No. Not now, not ever. Having to call the fight between me and Ameen “domestic violence” was a stretch for me. I knew boys weren’t supposed to hit girls, but girls shouldn’t hit boys either and I did slap him.
I mean, I wasn’t not saying that he should’ve beat me like that, but still…still…it was only a fight. Nothing more—nothing less. And if I could just stay away from Ameen then he’d go away. Right?
“No,” I said, looking at my mother and then to the officers. “I’m not doing it.”
“Malachi, officers”—my mother turned to them—“can you excuse us for a moment?”
“No problem,” Malachi said as he squeezed my hand before he and the officers walked out of the room.
My mother exploded once they were gone. “What the hell do you mean ‘no’?! Are you serious? I know you don’t think Ameen loves you.”
“I’m not even with him!” I screamed back. “I love Malachi and you know that!”
“You need to love yourself,” she spat back. “Now, I like Malachi and he is a good catch and all of those things, but you need to deal with you and why you allowed Ameen to put his hands on you! I swear”—she shook her head—“I’ma beat him. I told you to leave that loser alone, but did you listen? No,” she said, answering her own question. “Instead you lied to me!”
“You were never home long enough to know anything about me. Don’t start acting like you are mother of the year because you’re trying to butter me up so I will one day accept Kenneth.”
“This isn’t about Kenneth!”
“And it isn’t about you, either,” I snapped. “You think Ameen is Daddy? No, he’s not, he’s Ameen and I’m not you. I left my abuser. I didn’t need to wait for him to die. Now, if you have unresolved issues with Daddy then take them up with the grave. Not me.”
My mother stood silent for a moment and then she said, “I don’t care what you say, I’m pressing charges. You are a minor and I’m in charge!”
“I said no!”
“Is everything okay in here?” Malachi peeked in. “Kinda loud down the hall.”
“Everything is fine,” I said.
My mother looked back at me and shook her head.
“You guys can come back in,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Malachi said to me but looked at my mother.
“Yes,” I said sternly. “I’m sure.”
“Ai’ight,” he said, “well, everybody’s out here waiting to see you, Zsa.”
“They can come in.” My mother wiped her eyes. “And ask the officers to come in as well.”
I don’t believe she’s doing this.
“Diva!” Courtney walked into my hospital room with Asha and Samaad following close behind him. “The nurses at the station said we could all come in for a few minutes.”
“Yeah, Zontoe,” Cousin Shake said, walking in with Ms. Minnie behind him, “I told them we needed to see you now or I was gon’ turn the E.R. out.”
I mustered up a smile and a small wave. Hadiah walked over to me and started crying.
“Hadiah, it’s okay.” I rubbed her head. “I’m okay.”
“I was so scared when the police came to the house and said someone found you on the ground and you were at the hospital. I thought someone killed you.”
“Shh,” I said. “Don’t cry.”
Ms. Minnie hugged Hadiah. “Let’s go and get something to drink. Your sister is fine, okay? And you heard the doctor tell us in the lobby that she’ll be home by morning.”
“Yes, I remember him saying that.” Hadiah sniffed.
“Okay, so let’s go.” Ms. Minnie held Hadiah’s hand and they walked out of the room.
“Here.” Courtney placed a purple boa around my neck. “I made this for you.”
“Oh, hell, no,” Cousin Shake said, placing his hands on the wall and spreading his legs. “I swear I was gon’ pay them tickets,” he said, looking at the officers.
“Cousin Shake,” my mother said, tight-lipped, “get off the wall. They are not here for you.”
I looked at my mother and whispered, “Please don’t embarrass me. I can’t deal with this right now.”
“We will deal with this. I will not let Zach—Ameen,” she stuttered, “get away with this.”
“Please, make them leave. They can come back later. I’ll talk to them then.”
“Okay, but if they leave now you have to promise to go to that group and not try to get out of it.”
I quickly nodded in agreement.
“Officers,” my mother said, “can I speak to you in the hallway for a moment?”
They followed behind her and Cousin Shake said, “Zoo, let me tell you something. If somebody you know did this to you, all you have to do is say the word and I’ll have er’ cousin you got from the state of Georgia and North Carolina come up here to turn it out. All you got to do is say the word and tell me the deal.” He flipped his cell phone open and quickly dialed a number. “Sha’Pookie,” he spoke into his phone, “get your manz and them on standby. We may have an emergency.”
“Cousin Shake,” Malachi said, looking at me, “tell ’em it’s cool. This one’s on me.”
“Malachi.” I shook my head no.
He ignored me and turned to Samaad. “You ready to roll?”
“Ain’t nothin’ but a word, son.” Samaad nodded.
I looked at Asha. “Don’t let them go.”
“I’m sorry, Zsa, but Ameen needs his behind beaten,” she said as Malachi and Samaad left the room with Cousin Shake running behind them. “Don’t leave an old man hanging!” Cousin Shake screamed. “I know how to put in work.”
“Asha,” I said, “that’s not funny.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Suppose they kill him?”
“Suppose he had killed you?”
Silence.
“Zsa.” My mother walked back into the room. “The police are gone. But you have to speak with them at least by tomorrow. Ameen cannot get away with this!”
“I don’t want to talk about this now, Ma.”
“Then when?”
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t do this right now. I didn’t want to think, I just wanted to be still and maybe sleep. Yeah, that’s it. Sleep. I turned over on my side, left Asha and my mother in this world, and drifted, at least for a few hours, into my own, where there was no pain, no police, and no Ameen.
16
Don’t be a hard rock, when you really are a gem…
Respect is just the minimum…
; —LAURYN HILL, “DOO WOP”
Have you ever been in a rush for life to speed up so you can get to the good parts again? Well, that’s where I was at. I couldn’t take another minute of thinking about Ameen, and abuse, and I hated the damn memories and dreams that had haunted me since I’d been in the hospital for two days.
I was due to go home, and I prayed like heck that I could leave everything that I brought there—pain, misery, and embarrassment—on the hospital’s white sheets, between their walls, and on their floors. There was no way I could travel with that ache hovering over me. I needed it gone, out of my emotional pockets, and dumped in the gutter where all the nonsense belonged.
My mother sat on the edge of the hospital bed and asked me, “Zsa, are you sure you don’t want to press charges?”
“Why are you doing this to me? Huh?” I snapped. “You can’t bully me into doing something you never had the courage to follow up on. So get off my neck, please. I just want to go to this stupid meeting and be done with it.”
“I really think we need counseling.”
“Well, you go for the two of us, because I’m not getting involved.” I sucked my teeth. “And I’m only going to this meeting so that I can be discharged from this hospital.”
“It’s girls your age, Zsa.”
“Who I have nothing in common with.”
“You’re in denial.”
“Then I guess it’s hereditary.”
“Okay,” my mother snapped, “I think I’ve had enough of your smart mouth. You’re pushing your luck.”
I didn’t even respond to that. I’d learned that sometimes it was better to have your parents think they’d shut you down, when in reality you were just ignoring them.
We waited for the nurse and I wondered why there would be a group that celebrated your problems. That was so crazy to me. I mean, why would there be a teen domestic violence group? Why would teens want to meet every week to share stories and talk about their problems as if they were badges of honor?
That’s how I knew that this group thing wasn’t for me and I wouldn’t relate to any of these chicks. I’d rather not deal with my problems than to be standing before a crowd acting as if I collected issues for sport. Not.