That was when Julia realized that she’d given up her life for her man and he couldn’t satisfactorily provide for his family. After several months of name-calling, physical fights and numerous threats, Xanthin called it quits. Julia divorced him and took back her maiden name of Gomez and gave Red—whose real name was Raven—the same last name.
• • •
Growing up, Red loved the weekend and summer stays at her abuela’s. It was a chance for her to embrace her roots and freely experience a Hispanic-populated neighborhood. During the annual Puerto Rican Day parade, people of all shades and colors came out to show pride. Although Red’s father was a black man, it didn’t even matter. If you could speak Spanish—and Red could—and your mother was Puerto Rican, which Julia was, that was all that mattered. The different hues of the people excited Red. She felt connected to all people of color.
That summer, Red was waiting her turn for the man to add the purple syrup she loved to her Sno-Kone. Out of nowhere, this strange man appeared and, figuratively, swept her off her feet. When Red thought of Blue and how they met, it was something she couldn’t share with her so-called friends. Red quickly developed a new sweet tooth, not for candy but for a man, who became her first love.
Blue stood a stocky five feet, seven inches. He was so black, you thought he was blue—that was how he got his moniker in grade school. Her first instinct was to inquire which borough he was from. However, his gold fronts were a dead giveaway—Brooklyn.
“Hola,” Red said as she walked toward him, licking on her cone.
“Hey, mami.” Blue fell in step with her. His tone confirmed for Red that he was not Latino but black.
“What’s good?” Red stopped to allow him to come closer.
Even as a teenager, Red was not the type to approach men. They always found a way to meet her. Nonetheless, there was something profoundly special about this nigga that was different from the rest.
Red had chosen never to go past the point of fondling when it came to getting freaky. But from the looks of this man, that was soon going to change. Red felt her panties getting wet just at the sight of him. She had never felt her little na-na tingle like that before and it baffled her.
The distinct fragrance of Blue’s Bulgari cologne complemented his fresh-to-death look in the latest Nike sweat suit and fresh sneakers to match. Red could tell he was older than her by a couple of years. He was a man and she was tired of playing with boys.
Red’s instant attraction for him couldn’t be concealed. Without her even noticing, she was smiling and nodding her head “yes” before he even spoke a word.
“’Sup, mami? I saw you over there, posin’ to be chosen. What’s ya name?”
Unable to control her nervousness, Red stuttered, “R-R-Raven, but all my friends call me R-R-Red.”
• • •
Red knew Blue took pleasure in her nervousness, and she was glad he didn’t have a problem with her jailbait age. At fifteen, she was no match for a thoroughbred nigga who had been locked up three times and just turned twenty-four. If this were a casino, Red would have known the odds were against her.
Quite the lothario, Blue felt like the woman did all the choosing, so it was on her if she decided to stay or leave. He waited for a sign. The air held silence, the chemistry told the story—she wanted him.
After a while, the quiet between them started to feel awkward.
Secretly, Blue had a vengeance against the redbone honeys. As a boy, the light-skinned girls had always rejected him. Growing up dark-skinned with shiny white teeth seemed more like a curse than a blessing.
It was only in recent times, when dark chocolate brothers became the “in” thing, that he even got some play. Before that, the high yellow brothers dominated the set. They were the definition of handsome. Now the old adage “the darker the berry the sweeter the juice” took precedence and the sun-kissed men got their chance to shine. Blue took his newly appreciated looks as a license to maim. Maim every light-skinned woman who dared to give him a chance.
It only took two weeks for them to knock the boots. Although he liked Red, Blue was all about fulfilling his male ego. He was very pleased that he was able to obtain his goal so quickly. Blue had sex with Red and was able to detach from her early, which was part of his scheming plan. He was waiting for her to leave town so that he could move on to the next young bitch. All the romance that came after the sex was just to keep Red at bay until she left.
Although he was doggin’ her out, he was smooth with it from the start. For their first date, he met Red around the block from her grandmother’s building because she wasn’t allowed to date. When she slid into the leather seat of his Benz, Blue’s hand reached behind the seat to retrieve a bouquet of flowers for her. “These for you, baby,” Blue said as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. When Red didn’t resist, Blue knew his plan was working.
“Thank you,” Red replied. “They’re beautiful.”
“Red, baby, I got a surprise for you.” Blue took her to Mr. Chow for dinner, where every dish they had was foreign to her. Red thought Blue was a person off the silver screen. Billy Dee, Casanova, Rudolph Valentino, none of them had anything on Blue.
After weeks of flowers, expensive shopping trips, dinner at some of the city’s finest restaurants and mind-blowing sex, Red thought she had fallen in love and that Blue felt the same. But fast money was his main squeeze. Blue was in the street gettin’ it. The rock slangin’ hustle had his pockets right and that was his main priority.
Over the next month, Blue took Red for weekend getaways and had her lying to her grandmother. Blue sexed Red in every position he wanted, and she took good instruction on just how he liked his dick sucked. She tried to do everything she could to please her man. Blue being older felt like a blanket to her, a shelter, a covering she never had, particularly because her father died shortly after the divorce from Red’s mother, when Red was only five.
For Blue, Red was nothing more than a conquest. As a pupil, he would have given her an A+ on her oral sex game.
“Yeah, lick the head, right there,” Blue would instruct.
“My jaw hurts,” Red would complain.
“That’s ’cause you gotta relax your mouth,” Blue would advise.
Red wanted to keep him at all costs. And like her mother taught her by example, sex was the way to keep a man; especially one like Blue who had his choice of women. Red felt special because he chose her.
“When your jaws get tired, just lick the head and keep your mouth moist. Don’t let it get dry. While you suckin’ it, speak that Spanish shit to me. That’s a turn-on.”
“Okay, papi. Estoy bien para ti.”
“Yeah, baby, I don’t know what that shit means, but it sounds good.”
Red licked her lips and smiled. “It means I’m being good for you.”
Blue continued to coach while Red complied. And so it went.
“If you let me suck your titties, I can make them grow,” Blue promised. Red, who wanted to be more developed before her time, fell for every trick in the book.
Blue could do whatever he wanted with Red. Her body was not fully developed to the point it was today but her taut and supple flesh was something that turned Blue on.
As with all things, with time comes age and with age comes wisdom. The only problem with Blue, and ultimately for Red, was that Blue felt that the only thing better than old pussy was new pussy. After several months, Red’s pussy became old pussy, so Blue bounced.
• • •
“Why you don’t call me back when I leave a message?” Red screamed into the phone one night.
“Look, if you gon’ talk to me like that, I’m hanging up.” And hang up Blue did, over and over again. Red sank back into her pillow and turned her face to hide the tears when her grandmother came into the room to check on her.
Red had managed to spend her entire summer with Blue and hadn’t spent any time with her cousins like she usually did. He consumed her every thought. Puppy love wa
s like being caught in an anaconda’s grip. Red began to mope and stay in her room, with the shades pulled down.
Eyebrows knitted together in concern, Red’s abuela came to her bedroom one afternoon. “Red, are you ill or something? You won’t eat, you won’t go out. You just stay stuck up in this room.”
Red hadn’t responded. She only wanted to make up with Blue. Nothing else mattered to her. Not bathing, not eating. She became obsessed with Blue and getting him to love her like he once did.
Red prayed all night that something would change. If only I could turn him out in the bedroom, she thought. She snuck onto adult cable channels looking for clues of how to love him better.
Blue wouldn’t answer her pages. She never really knew where he lived; all she knew of were some of the previous places that he had taken her to.
With only three days left in her vacation, when the evening set in, Red hit the streets looking for Blue at his hangout spots. She soon found out that Blue was not all he presented himself to be. Red searched two local bars and came up short.
Crossing over the Avenue, Red took the train to Eighty-seventh Street and stopped at the Xctasy nightclub. She roamed the parking lot trying to spot Blue’s Mercedes-Benz. She spotted it parked to the far left side of the lot; the license plate of the car confirmed it was Blue’s. Red walked over to the car looking cautiously over her shoulder. The night air brought a chill over her body, but the heat from her vexed feelings kept her warm.
Red scanned the pavement for a rock but came up empty. She walked over to the car and had the urge to try the door handle. The handle gave and she slid into the driver’s seat and noticed that the keys were in the ignition with a valet tag on them. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she turned the ignition.
Once the engine was on, the sound system blasted. She froze, her heart pounding, then turned it down. Red’s gaze darted back and forth over the lot. People were still piling into the club and the valet began walking back across the lot. He noticed the humming of the car engine as Red spotted him. Instinctively, she smiled and rolled down the window on the driver’s side.
The valet wondered if the driver in the car had grown impatient waiting for her car. He figured that if she was already in her car he’d missed out on the tip and he wasn’t about to do any extra work for nothing.
“Hey, I got my car. Is that okay?” Red managed to shout.
“Uh, yeah, that’s cool,” the attendant answered. He remembered the car, the driver and that a woman was with him. He wanted to take a second to think but instead let it slide.
Red drove the car across the lot slowly. She didn’t even have her driver’s license.
“Hey, wait!” Red heard the attendant yelling as he ran behind the car. She wanted to jet out of the lot but thought twice about it. She stopped the car.
“Um, your lights. I mean you don’t have your lights on.” The attendant was out of breath and leaned on the car. Red’s eyes darted to the dashboard. She turned a knob or two to her right and the lights on the dash lit up.
Easing into traffic, Red turned the stereo volume back up, finding a jazz station. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, something clicked inside of her. She went from the pain of being a victim to the rush of being in control. Blue had had all the control. But now, driving his prized possession, Red began to understand that if she couldn’t get him one way, she’d get him another.
Red thought she could call Blue and make him talk to her. She had his car, yet the uncertainty of whether or not he would get upset made her think twice about her next move. Her inner voice told her that Blue was not coming back. He had shitted on Red. So the more she drove the less she cared about getting Blue back, and the more she thought about paying him back for her pain.
Red drove all the way to Long Island. During the forty-five-minute trip, she replayed the relationship repeatedly in her mind. The car lights began to mesmerize her as she gripped the steering wheel. As the melodic jazz music floated through the speakers, Red wondered why the men she’d encountered were so cruel.
• • •
My mother met Jerome right after my father’s death. You would think he’d be like a father to me, but nah, he made it quite clear by his actions that I was not his child.
I still remember that day, when everything changed. As my mother left the drink next to the table, she turned and looked at me as if it was the last time we’d ever see each other. She grabbed her car keys and left me alone with Jerome. His caresses began to get more aggressive and his hand inched farther up my dress until it reached the lining of my panties. Then his hand moved from the front of my panties to the rear of them, massaging my young ass. His touch made me squirm. It felt unnatural. At six years old, I knew that this was wrong.
“No,” I whispered to him, but it was no use. He continued to massage my young clit through my panties with his thumb. The harder I squirmed the more he rubbed as he licked the side of my face. Suddenly he inserted his finger into my vagina. That was when my mother reentered the room and he quickly pulled his finger out. However, the pain was still there. I had been violated.
“Mommy, he touched my private parts,” I later explained. I had learned that word back in day care. They told us there were good touches and bad touches and no one was to touch our private parts in an inappropriate manner.
As I stood there in silence, I knew it was wrong. My mother may have been everything to me, but when she didn’t take my word over Jerome’s just because he was giving her a little extra ends, it really hurt me.
I learned then that bitches couldn’t be trusted and that a woman would always take a man’s word over another woman’s. I would never trust any woman again with my secrets.
Every young girl needs her mother, and when I needed mine to listen, she wasn’t there.
• • •
Blue left Red with both a blessing and a curse. She missed him dearly because of how well he treated her during their short-lived romance. But now, she wanted to see his demise. She was furious that another guy had taken advantage of her innocence. She wanted him to feel the pain she felt.
Once she hit Long Island, she found a phone booth and paged Blue. Sure enough, unlike her previous pages, the foreign number made Blue call back immediately.
“Yeah,” Red said into the receiver in a disguised voice.
“What up?” Blue said.
“When was the last time you seen your car?” Red whispered. Red imagined that the mention of his car raised Blue’s ears like a dog called to attention.
“What?” Blue spoke louder into the phone. Red could hear the music in the background, which meant that he was still inside the club and had no idea that his car was gone.
Blue searched frantically in his pockets for the valet claim ticket. His heart pounded but began to beat slower as his nerves calmed. He detected something familiar in the caller’s voice. “What about my car?”
“I got your car and if you want it back come meet me,” Red demanded.
“Red?” Blue said into the phone, his voice filled with disbelief.
“Yeah, nigga, so now you know my voice and my name, huh? And don’t hang up on me. If you hang up, you can kiss your car good-bye.”
“Red, hold on. I need to pay my tab and leave the club. Give me two seconds and I’ll call you back. I can hardly hear you.” Before she could object, Blue hung up the phone. He dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out his valet ticket, and ran to the parking lot. He handed his ticket to the attendant, who went to retrieve the car. Blue paced back and forth.
“Nigga, where is my black Mercedes?” Blue yelled across the lot—the attendant had been searching a little too long for his car.
“Mercedes?” The attendant knew immediately what Mercedes Blue was referring to: the Mercedes with the young girl in it.
“Oh, yeah.” The valet ran back over to Blue. “The girl. The girl took the car. I thought—”
Blue punched him right in the mouth.
• • •
Red was getting more furious by the moment. How dare he make me wait, she thought. Before she allowed her emotions to get the best of her chance for revenge, she breathed deeply, inhaling, then exhaling, blowing hard to calm herself. Red knew Blue had to have gone to the parking lot. There was no way he would have gone back to partying after hearing her threat. She could do nothing but wait for the phone to ring again. She knew it would ring again.
Ring, ring . . .
“Where in the fuck is my car, bitch?” Blue yelled into the phone.
“Bitch?”
“Look Red, stop fuckin’ playin’ and get me my damn car.”
“Excuse me? It’s no fun when the rabbit’s got the gun,” Red said with an attitude.
Blue began to panic. He couldn’t believe that this little bitch had gotten the upper hand on him.
Blue stood there with the phone pressed to his ear and looked up and down the street for the first cab he could find. He calmed down and spoke into the receiver.
“Okay, baby, let’s talk. Where are you?” Blue tried to beat her at her own game in hopes of finding her whereabouts.
Red knew he was insincere, yet it felt good to turn the tables and have him kiss her ass. “You never loved me, did you?” Red asked into the phone, needing, wanting to be sure.
“Yeah, I loved you. It’s just I knew you were leaving so I wanted to break it off before I got hurt.”
Red didn’t know which rule of the dating game this was, but she knew bullshit when she heard it. Blue’s words soothed her aching heart, but her love for him was too sincere for her to accept the bold lies.
She silently held the phone.
“Come see me,” Red finally said, as if reading his thoughts through the phone.
“Of course, baby. Where you at?” Blue asked.
“Long Island.”
“That’s kinda far. Check this out, drive back into the city and meet me at Junior’s,” Blue instructed.
Red was determined to keep things on her terms so she said, “No. You need to come out here and meet me at the North Randall Mall.”
“Whatever, I can be there in an hour,” Blue said, “I’m hailing a cab now.”
The Dirty Red Series Page 5