I have no idea what she means, but right now the fact that my daughter is somewhere on an interstate highway with a man I don’t know who’s supposed to be her husband is enough to hold me for a while.
Trinetta
Get off at this exit coming up, Dante. I gotta pee.”
“Can’t you hold it till we get to the next gas station or rest stop?”
“I been holding it for the past twenty-six miles.”
“Then why didn’t you say something when we passed that rest stop?”
After he asks that he passes the damn exit and I just cross my arms. Sometimes, I don’t know why I married his ass. He’s stubborn as all hell and everything has to be his way or no way. I love him but it’s hard for me trying to figure out how you can love somebody who gets on your damn nerves. He got his good traits but right now I can’t think of none. Oh yeah. He got skills. He can sing pretty good. And his beats be serious. Some of ’em explode. He’s almost handsome but there ain’t no way in hell I’d have no baby by him. I’m through having kids. Three is plenty and I’m lucky I ain’t got no stretch marks. Luther and Ricky is better off with my mama for the time being, until I get my act together. Noxema was a mistake, so it’s good that she with her daddy. Don’t nobody but Dexter know who Luther’s daddy is and Ricky’s daddy OD’d before he was born. Me and him was deep into it when I found out I was two months pregnant and it took me a month to taper off, which is why Ricky had to be put on medication. I feel bad about that but one of the nurses told me he was fortunate. He didn’t have to go through no withdrawals, thank God. I wasn’t doing nothing when I was carrying Luther, ’cause that’s when I was still in my right mind. I was going to Los Angeles City College. Then I got stupid. Started running with the wrong folks. Then here come Ricky. I was clean during the whole nine months I carried Noxema. And they was the longest nine months of my life.
I am a terrible mother and I know it. They deserve more love than I’m able to give them right now. I believe in my heart that if it wasn’t for them, I probably woulda been dead a long time ago. Kids give you a reason to live. But you gotta have something to give them. I ain’t exactly no role model. Although I would like to be. One day.
“Where your phone at?” I ask Dante.
“Who you need to call?”
“Twinkle. I ain’t talked to her since we left and I wanna say hi and see how she holding up without my company and plus I wanna know if she registered for cosmetology school like she said she was. She don’t never do half the shit she say she gon’ do.”
“You should talk,” he says, and hands me his little tacky Nokia. I been trying to get him to break down and buy one of those Palms but he too cheap. Which is probably one reason why he got a few dollars in the bank. He ain’t no dummy. I picked that up when I first met him in rehab a couple of years ago. That’s where we fell in love, and I guess I married him when we got out and both of us relapsed. To this day I don’t remember marrying him. But he said we did. So I guess we did. I still ain’t got no ring.
It’s hard to stop using drugs just ’cause you want to. And last year me and Dante started dipping and dabbing again. But when he got busted with a little too much on him and was sentenced to nine months, somebody was looking out for him, ’cause it got thrown out of court. That’s when he told me he was done. I wasn’t. So he bailed. This made his second trip back to his parents’ house, and I promised him I wanted to stop for real this time and I wanted to go back to school and see if it wasn’t too late to finish that dental tech program even though I ain’t that interested in teeth no more, or maybe I could find another trade that might be a little fun, ’cause I for real want to see what it feel like to be straight for more than a month and pay my bills and do right by my kids, and he gave me this one last ultimatum. So I took it.
I take the phone and dial Twinkle. “Bitch, why come you didn’t tell your mama you was fleeing and abandoning your damn kids?”
“And I miss you, too. Ho.”
“Come on, Trinetta. This is pretty fucked up. How could you just up and leave your kids with your mama?”
“You just asked the same question twice.”
“And you ain’t gave me no answer. Where in the hell you and Dante at?”
“I don’t know. We only been on the road three days, ’cause he had to help his mama move and he was working on the car.”
“You mean y’all driving that raggedy-ass Taurus all the way to Atlanta?”
“Dante put a new engine in it. He know how to fix anything and we ain’t had no problems.”
“When you gon’ be in Atlanta?”
“When we gon’ get to Atlanta, Dante?”
“A day or two. Tell Twinkle I said hey.”
“Dante said hey, and he said we’ll be there in a day or two. Guess what? We stopped and saw some crocodiles yesterday.”
“Fuck you and a crocodile. You did hear about that 9/11 shit, didn’t you?”
“Of course I did, Twinkle. It’s like the shit you see in sci-fi movies. I just hope no terrorists come to Atlanta.”
“You simple as hell, Trinetta. Anyway, your mama came over here worried as hell and you need to call her to let her know your stupid ass is still alive.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“When, today?”
“Right after I hang up.”
“Who you guys staying with in Atlanta?”
“Dante got a cousin down here who got connections in the whole rap scene.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I ain’t gotta lie. Just stay tuned.”
“And how long you planning on being in Atlanta?”
“Until Dante’s rapping jumps off into full swing.”
“You high?”
“No, I ain’t high. I told you before I left. I’m chilling on that front.”
“Call your mama.”
“Wait. Did you sign up for school?”
“Yes I did. I’m too old to be on the streets and I told you I was tired of it. Plus my kids’ future means a lot to me. They done seen too much and I don’t like what they’ve seen. Anyway, call your mama. And don’t be taking no shortcuts. Them rednecks will chop you and Dante into little pieces with the ax they keep in the back of their pickup and nobody’ll ever hear from y’all black asses again.”
And she hung up.
“Dante, this time I mean it. Get off at the next rest stop or gas station. I don’t care which. Now, I gotta do more than pee.”
He pulls into a Chevron. “I’m gon’ run over to that Jack in the Box. You want a taco and some curly fries or something?”
“I’ll take a cheeseburger and curly fries.”
“Just one burger? We not stopping again until we see that sign that say WELCOME TO GEORGIA.”
“Then make it two. I’ll stock up on drinks.”
As soon as I get out the car I walk over to the building where the bathroom’s at and pray nobody’s in the ladies’ room, but when I get closer I see that both red dials say OCCUPIED, and I stand there for a few minutes and then a few minutes more and finally when a dude comes out of the men’s bathroom I run in there and lock the door. I go into a stall and sit down on the toilet and get my stem out of my purse and put it between my legs, then I get my stash and lighter out of the zipper part and try to hang my purse handle over the lock but it keep falling on the damn floor. I don’t bother to pick it up, ’cause it ain’t nasty in here like it is in the ladies’ room plus this won’t take but a few minutes. I put a small rock inside the tip and light it. I roll the stem around until it start melting and then I lean back so the liquid won’t drip out and burn me and tip it back and I inhale the clouds until they disappear and I hold it until I’m where I belong, which is right here inside heaven. I could run to the moon right now if I wanted to. But I know Dante mi
ght be looking for me and I swear to God I love that man and I can’t wait for us to get to Atlanta and get our life in fifth gear. I wrap my stuff up and put it back in my purse and wash my hands and run out of here.
I can hear Dante rapping before I even get close to the car. He got one of the CDs on he burned. He got a lot of CDs of him rapping. Some of ’em weak. In all honesty, I think only a few of ’em is really worth listening to. And Dante like to rap loud, more like he screaming, like he trying to make sure you hear every word he saying. But sometime he ain’t saying shit, and sometime some of the shit he be rapping about don’t make no damn sense. I pretend like I like it just to build up his confidence. It’s a lot of people out there who think they deep but only be hitting topsoil. Don’t put no dent in nothing. I think Dante is more impressed with hisself than anybody. He sing much better than he rap and he sound kinda like that dude Mama and Mr. Butler used to listen to when I was little, the one that got caught with another dude in his car back when it wasn’t cool and he ended up cripple, but I can’t think of his name right now. If Babyface and L.A. Reid is still producing new singers and if Dante’s cousin got the hookup with them, Dante might have a better shot making it as a singer.
I really don’t want to do drugs and wish I could stop and feel just as good. But it don’t work that way. If I had to chose between sex and crack, shit, ain’t no comparison. Crack is way better. But it’s probably ’cause I ain’t doing nothing constructive with my life that gets me high. It’s millions of people out here who don’t even smoke cigarettes and they can deal. There’s people who don’t drink. Don’t smoke weed. Or, like they said in rehab, some people like experiencing life with a clear head. It just seems like no matter what I do, I always make bad decisions and shit gets all fucked up and then my moms likes to cuss me out, and I don’t think it was her that called CPS on me but if she did, I’d understand it. I know my kids is safe with her and I hope they don’t end up being too much of a burden. Dante don’t know I bailed on the kids. He think it was my mom’s idea. I know she over there struggling, with Mr. Butler being out of it and everything. I call him that because he ain’t my real father.
That’s a book right there. I ain’t supposed to let on I know but of course my Big Mouth Aunt Arlene was the one who told me when I was around thirteen.
“Trinetta, come sit on the couch next to me, baby. I’ve got something interesting to tell you and I think you’re old enough to handle it.”
She made me promise not to tell Mama and I told her I promised not to tell if she gave me fifty dollars. Which she did. I tried the whole blackmail thing again after seeing it on TV, but it didn’t work on Aunt Arlene.
“Go on and tell her,” she told me. By then I was about sixteen and had stopped giving a shit. I told her I wouldn’t dare hurt my mama like that, throwing some bullshit in her face that may not even be true. And that’s how we left it.
“Where the drinks at?” Dante asks when I get in the car.
“Oh shit, I forgot to get ’em ’cause there was a long-ass line.”
“Do I look like I’m fucking stuck on stupid, Trinetta?”
“No.”
“Look at your eyes. All dilated. And why you sweating? It ain’t even hot. Let me see you eat that cheeseburger.”
“I ain’t hungry right this minute.”
“You can’t be doing this shit when we get to my cousin’s house. He go to church and everything. You understand me?”
“I do. And plus I ain’t got much left anyway.”
He just rolled his eyes at me. “I’m going to get some water and Pepsis, plus I could use a Snickers. While the tank is filling up, if it ain’t too much trouble, could you clean off the windows while I’m gone?”
“Can I use your phone again?”
“Who you gotta call now?”
“My mama.”
“Why don’t you wait till you come down?”
“Because I can say what I really feel like this.”
He hands me his phone and I get out of the car and pop the blades out and then dip the squeegee in the water and dial her number.
“Ma, it’s me, Trinetta.”
“And where might you be?”
“Ma, look. Please don’t be mad at me but I just felt like I had to get outta L.A. before something bad happened to me and I didn’t want the kids to be messed up and me and Dante just decided leaving would be a smart thing to do and even though you may not believe it he don’t do drugs and he trying to make sure I stay clean and that’s what I’m working on and I just want you to know that I love my kids and if you could give me six months or a year at most I should have my act together and then I can come back and get ’em.”
I stand there, waiting for her to blast me, but I don’t hear nothing. “Ma? You there?”
I still don’t hear nothing. Did she just hang up on me? Hell, I don’t much blame her. So I just finish cleaning the windows and when I hear the nozzle snap ’cause the tank is full, I put it back in the slot, get back in the car, and try my damnedest to eat at least one of those curly fries.
Lee David
Shit!”
“What’re you shitting about now?” this ugly fat woman who is lying next to me just asked.
She puts her arms back around me and squeezes me, then kisses me on my forehead.
I want to say, “I don’t know.” But for some reason, I can’t.
Shit.
Venetia
How are you holding up over there with those little ones, BB? Before you even answer, I was thinking, I haven’t seen you or the boys in months and of course I’ve been so busy getting tutors lined up for the SATs coming up and of course Rodney’s in Hong Kong and we had to put Pepper down so it’s been too quiet around here during the day and I was wondering if you and the boys would like to come out for an early dinner on Saturday? I want to try a new recipe I saw Paula Deen make on the Food Network unless you’re lactose intolerant because it’s full of cream and cheese and butter and if I remember correctly I think Arlene told me you’re trying to watch your weight and if this is the case I totally understand and I could make something lighter but something even the boys might enjoy.”
“Slow down, Vennie? My goodness. You just said a mouthful and I don’t know why you have to give me so much information at once. First of all, I’m sorry to hear about Pepper.”
“Thank you, BB. Fourteen years.”
“Are you okay? You sound a little frustrated.”
“I’m fine. Just a lot going on.” If I were to be honest I would tell her the truth. That I’m bored and lonely and I think my husband is cheating on me and all of a sudden it’s starting to hit me that my kids are going to be leaving home soon and I don’t know what in the world I’m going to do with myself. My world has revolved around them and Rodney, and the years go by so fast, you think things will just stay the same. But they don’t.
“I have to find out if Tammy can look after Lee David. And for your and Arlene’s information, I am not on a diet even though I’m very aware that I could stand to lose twenty pounds but that would also put all three of us in the same boat if we were to be honest and Paula Deen’s meals are like eating a heart attack on a plate and I like my fat in small doses. Anyway, I’ll call you back.”
After I hang up, I realize that I feel sorry for BB in a lot of ways. She has too many burdens. First Lee David and then one by one her children disappear for all the wrong reasons. My sister doesn’t deserve the weight of the things she’s carried, and now she’s got her grandkids to care for. I know she doesn’t make much working at that hotel and I just wish she’d gone to college like the rest of us. Her life probably wouldn’t have been such a struggle. But she doesn’t complain, which is what I love about her. Even still, one person can only do so much, and I don’t think BB recognizes that just because her own children have disappointed her, she might look at this as ge
tting another chance to do a better job with her grandchildren. She was a darn good mother, considering she had to work. I think living in the ghetto is harmful to children. They see too much. Learn too many of the wrong things. And now that she’s getting up in age, I don’t know if BB remembers how much time and energy it takes to raise youngsters and how she’s going to manage by herself. If Rodney didn’t have the accountant monitor our spending, I’d be happy to help her out. But as things go, I’ll just do as much as I can without having to answer for it. Those boys deserve as many opportunities and advantages as possible. After all, we’re family.
I have to say that I do not for one minute think Lauren and Zach are picture-perfect. But I’ve done my best to be a good mom and it was my choice not to work. Well, it was actually Rodney’s. That was one of the many terms and conditions of our getting married. This was the one I didn’t mind. Of course, I’m proud of them and not the least bit worried about their futures. They are both honor students and participate in and do all the things they’re supposed to that will ensure they get into top colleges. It’s one of the reasons why, when the SUV hits sixty thousand miles, Rodney leases a new one. All I do is drive. I think we’re on the eighth or ninth, I forget.
It may sound elitist, but it has been proven that the quality of your life improves with a college degree. I admit I never put my MBA to good use, but I don’t regret getting it. And who knows, after the kids are gone, I might consider entering the workforce, since I’ll have nothing else to do. This may be selfish, but I’m crossing my fingers the kids stay local. USC or Pepperdine or UCLA would be perfect and I would even be willing to drive all the way out to Irvine if it became necessary, or if push came to shove, UC Berkeley, and Lord knows I would be one proud mama should one of them get into Stanford.
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