Girls from da Hood 11

by Nikki Turner

  “I want my fuckin’ son! Where is my baby?” Kima strained to scream.

  The veins in her neck and at her temple were raised and pulsing against her skin. The heart monitors were screeching with rapid beeps. A piece of gauze on Kima’s head began to get soaked with blood, as it was apparent she had busted a stitch.

  “Y’all gonna have to tell her. This shit ain’t good for her and I ain’t trying’ to do the paperwork on a dead inmate,” the C.O. said moving closer.

  The doctors looked at each other as if they were trying to figure out who would be charged with giving Kima the information she was requesting. Kima was thrashing now and kicking her legs. Her movement caused the metal from the handcuffs to dig into her wrists, but she couldn’t even feel it. Kima didn’t even feel the pain of the C-section incision burning through her abdomen as she bucked and screamed. Finally, the petite, female doctor stepped closer to Kima’s bedside. The doctor was clearly nervous.

  “Ms. McCallister, the injuries you suffered during the assault were pretty serious. The blow you took to the belly ruptured the placenta, which caused hemorrhaging inside the womb. When there is a disconnect of the placenta from the uterus, the baby can no longer get oxygen from you, which means you can no longer breathe for him. I’m so sorry, your son died in utero. When they got you here, he had already expired. We performed an emergency C-section to remove him. You were unconscious. I am so sorry for your loss,” the doctor said regretfully lowering her eyes to the floor.

  Kima flopped back onto the pillow. The words took a minute to sink into her head.

  “No! You bastards killed my son! No! Agh!” Kima screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Her voice was cracking and rasping. Blood soaked the head gauze now. The screams hurt her throat but she couldn’t stop screaming.

  “Get something to sedate her!” one of the doctors yelled to a nurse who had come busting into the room to see what was going on. The nurse turned on her heels and raced out of the room for something to get Kima under control.

  “Get the fuck away from me!” Kima growled.

  Her face was beet red and the heart monitors were going berserk. The doctors all looked horrified. Finally, the nurse skid back into the room and handed a syringe to one of the doctors. Kima was kicking so hard, it took all of them to hold her legs still enough to be injected. The doctor was finally able to plunge the needle into Kima’s left thigh muscle.

  “Owww!”shewailed. “Fuck off me!” Those were her final words as the medicine in the needle immediately took hold of her. Kima’s body went slack, her head lulled to the side. Her hand relaxed so much the handcuffs scraped against the metal railing on the side of the bed. The doctors all looked at each other in relief.

  “That was the saddest thing I’ve ever had to do,” the female doctor said to her colleagues. She swiped at a tear from her eye.

  “How does a girl so young, unmarried, and pregnant get herself into so much trouble?” one of the male doctors asked out loud to no one in particular.

  “I see it every day. A lot of young women are doing hard time behind the choices they made in men,” the C.O. answered as he made sure Kima was really knocked out again. He shook his head in disgust, turned and headed back to his seat next to the window. “I just often wonder what makes them stupid enough to do it,” he said, folding his arms across his chest trying to get comfortable.

  Chapter 3

  One Week Earlier in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn

  Kima was roused from a deep sleep by Kori’s deep voice coming from the first floor of their two-story home. She listened for a few minutes and could immediately tell he was stressed. He was cursing about something. Kima sighed. She hated when Kori was upset. He didn’t like to talk about things and he would go into a shell, which made her miserable. Keeping Kori happy was paramount on her daily to do list because if not, there was always hell to pay for everyone around them. Kima got out of the bed and stood at the doorway of their bedroom to listen. She winced as her baby moved inside of her. Then she smiled a little bit. She had just found out she was carrying a baby boy. A son was always what Kori wanted. He already had three daughters from two other chicks. Kima felt proud to be the one to finally deliver him a son. It was clear that the baby was running out of room inside of her too, the thought of her baby growing bigger also made Kima smile. But more raucous cursing coming from downstairs interrupted her nice thoughts about the baby.

  “Fuck you, the bitch disappeared? Fuck you mean, you can’t find nobody to replace her?” Kori boomed. “You know how much money I’m losing while y’all niggas playing the fuck around! You tellin’ me not one old bitch up in the hood wanna make some trap?”

  Kima crinkled her eyebrows and listened. This didn’t sound good at all. Anything that had to do with his money being funny would surely come with a hell to pay from Kori for everybody around him, especially her.

  “This shit could cost me big paper! Find somebody by tomorrow or else niggas gonna be sorry!” Kori barked.

  Kima jumped as she heard a loud crash. He had thrown his pre-paid cell phone against a wall. Kima couldn’t decide whether to rush to his side and try to comfort him or go back to bed and act like she hadn’t heard him. After a few minutes of contemplating, she made up her mind.

  Kima put on her soft terry cloth robe, swallowed hard and waddled down the stairs. Kori was slumped in front of the TV, wearing just a wife beater and his jeans. His ACG boots were kicked off in front of the couch. His face was screwed up into an evil scowl as he mindlessly flicked the channels with the remote. Kima padded over to him, her belly leading the way. Kori kept staring at the TV, acting like he didn’t even see her.

  “Hey,” Kima said softly as she sat down close to him, almost on top of him. He didn’t return her greeting. She touched his leg gently and smiled.

  “C’mon man, I’m not in the mood for no lovey dovey shit right now,” Kori said, irritated.

  Kima felt a flutter of hurt, but she was used to Kori’s mood swings by now. She moved her hand from his leg and rubbed his arm anyway. Kori sucked his teeth. He yanked his arm away from her roughly, almost hitting her in the face with his elbow. She ducked back just in time. She exhaled loudly. It took a lot of patience to deal with him sometimes.

  “What’s the matter baby?” Kima asked persistently, her tone soft. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?” she soothed, being mindful to keep her hands off of him now.

  “Psss. You can’t do shit to help me right now. Fuck out of here. All y’all niggas is useless to me. You especially right now. Just a mouth to feed. Shit, you can’t even give me no pussy to get my mind off shit with that fat-ass gut in the way,” he snapped, his words cruel.

  Kima felt a sharp pain behind her eyes as she fought back tears. Kori always said the meanest shit to her when he was in a bad mood. Still, she put her own feelings aside. Kima was so used to being there for him, she couldn’t even help herself.

  “Please let me help. Did something happen?” she pressed.

  Kori just ignored her and got up from the couch. He walked toward his fully stocked bar and started mixing himself a drink. Kima sighed as she followed his every move with her eyes. She knew when he started drinking that it would be a long-ass night. Sometimes, she wondered what the hell she had gotten herself into falling in love with Kori.

  * * *

  When Kima met Kori, she was only eighteen, and he was twenty-six. The first time she ever laid eyes on him, was one night when she had gone to a basement party in Flatbush with some of her cousins. Kori was outside leaning up against his Benz, profiling. Kima had locked eyes with him that night but hadn’t spoken to him. Because she noticed that he was there with another chick. She was a beautiful girl that had made Kima feel like a bum with what she had on. Kima never thought about Kori in the days after the party, that is, until fate made their paths cross again. Kima had run into Kori more than two months after their first encounter. She was coming out of her high school as he drove past i
t with his windows down, blasting his music. Kima didn’t know it was him at first, she had just watched the noisy car ride by. Obviously, he had noticed her though. Kori had passed her, but appeared again after he had driven all the way back around the block, just to talk to her. Kori had taken notice of how pretty Kima was, not to mention her Coca-Cola bottle shape. In his assessment, Kima wasn’t much of a dresser, but she was really pretty. She had bright, unblemished caramel skin, big round eyes, and full heart-shaped lips. Her eyelashes were long and thick and so was her hair. She stood about five feet, six inches with a tiny waist and her hips and ass were thick and round. Those were the assets that had definitely caught Kori’s eye. He loved a nice ass on a woman. When Kori stopped at the corner as Kima tried to walk across the street, she took notice of him right away. He looked familiar to her, but at first she couldn’t place his face. Kori looked like he had a lot of money and Kima looked like just the opposite. Kori turned his music down and leaned down so he could see her out of the passenger’s side window from his side of the car.

  “W’assup shorty? You got a minute?” Kori had called out to her.

  Kima smiled at him. She was blushing like crazy, still in disbelief that he had stopped for someone like her. Kima was impressed with Kori’s car, clothes, and the huge diamond pendant dangling from his chain. It had been her life dream to get a man like Kori. Just like her older cousin, Lawanda, had done. Lawanda had escaped their crowded project apartment thanks to her man and was living well now. Kima knew it was all due to Lawanda’s boyfriend, Cess. Every time Kima saw Lawanda come around with new sneakers, jeans, and coats, Kima would say a silent prayer for a man just like Cess.

  * * *

  Kima’s life wasn’t easy. She was living with her grandmother while her mother served a long prison sentence for taking the fall for the murder of a well-known pastor. While her mother did time, Kima lived in a small cramped, two-bedroom apartment in the Kingsborough housing projects along with her grandmother, two uncles, and ten of her cousins. Her grandmother would often yell and threaten to send Kima to foster care if she did anything wrong. Kima and her cousins were constantly reminded that they weren’t on her grandmother’s lease and one phone call to housing would have them all living in group homes. They all believed her too. Kima slept on the bottom bunk of one of the many sets of bunk beds that were set up on walls throughout the apartment. The living conditions were not the greatest. They had a lot of roaches, hardly ever had toilet paper or soap, and there was a long clothesline that ran the length of the apartment where they hung their clothes after they washed them in the bathtub. Food was a luxury in their house. Kima’s grandmother and her two uncles were the only two allowed to go into the refrigerator or cabinets without express permission. There was hardly ever anything to drink in the house and when her grandmother made Kool-Aid, if Kima wasn’t the first to get one of the few glasses or cups in the house, she would miss out. Kima often woke up extra early on weekends, just to be the first one to use the three cereal bowls and to make sure she got milk for her cereal so she didn’t have to use water. Kima hardly ever got anything new. She wore hand-me-down clothes, shoes, and coats from her cousin Cynthia, who was a year older than her. Not that Cynthia got anything new that often either, but when she was done wearing her stuff to death, it was passed on to Kima. Kima only owned five pairs of underwear that she washed over and over again. The summer she turned fourteen, she worked a summer youth job. Her grandmother took all of her money, with the promise that Kima would be able to buy school clothes. That never happened, so the next year Kima refused to work if she wasn’t going to benefit from it. Kima was embarrassed, but she had no choice but to get to school early for free breakfast and to eat the free lunch. If she didn’t, sometimes she would be hungry all day because at home, dinner was handed out in very small portions with no chance of seconds.

  * * *

  That day outside of her school, Kori and Kima spoke for at least an hour. He then offered her a ride home. When she sat down in his big body Benz, Kima knew right then that she would do anything to get with Kori. She did exactly that. Kima dealt with Kori’s other chicks and she held on. He would leave Kima for weeks at a time with no calls or visits, but when he showed back up, she would accept him with open arms. Kima never questioned him about his business or about whom else he was seeing. Kori liked that about her because the other two chicks he was dealing with would stress him out. They would fight each other in the street, call him all times of the night, interrupt him when he was conducting business, and beg him for money. Kima did none of the above. She stayed calm all of the time. When he was with her, she made Kori feel like a king. If he wanted a massage she would do it. If he wanted her to cook she would do it. Kori could’ve gotten anything out of Kima; she gave new meaning to the term, cater to you. Kima never asked Kori for money, which made him want to give it to her. Kori really liked Kima’s style. He also liked the compliments he got from his boys when he had her around. Kori could buy Kima the cheapest low end, name brand clothes and she would be head over heels happy. That made him feel good, so he stayed motivated to give her things. Kima carried herself with class and never put any pressure on him. Kori found himself spending more and more time with her. He started growing real fond of her and when he found out that none of the dudes in Bed-Stuy could say that they had run up in her he was really all in. Kori considered Kima wifey material. After a year of seeing her on his terms, he picked her up from her grandmother’s house one day and told her he was moving her out of the projects. Kima was nineteen, but she was still scared of what her grandmother and her uncles would say. But the day she left home, nobody even cared. They didn’t miss her when she was gone. In fact, she ran into Cynthia one day and Cynthia told Kima that their grandmother was happy to have one less mouth to feed. Kima never looked back after that. Her life became all about Kori. Although she started community college that year, she didn’t continue. Kori wanted her where he could put his finger on her at all times. At home. He would shower her with gifts, clothes, jewelry, and he even got her a car. Kima couldn’t ask for anything more. The one thing Kori didn’t do, was put money in her pocket. Although she carried designer bags, there was never any cash inside of them. Kori told her to ask for what she wanted and he would give her what she needed, but he was not putting any money in her hands. Kima was fine with that, she wasn’t planning on going anywhere anyway, she reasoned.

  Kima endured many lonely nights when Kori didn’t come home. She also suffered through the many calls and texts from other women to his cell phone. Kima had weathered the storm of Kori’s baby mothers coming to his house acting out. In a way, she felt superior to them because she was the one inside while they banged and kicked on the door for him. Kima never made a fuss. Kori would explain things away by telling her he had to conduct business so he that was why he hadn’t come home. He would tell her the girls calling didn’t mean shit and that she was the one that he was coming home to. He would tell her the crazy chicks were just his baby mothers, but she was wifey. Kima was fine with all of that. She considered herself, numero uno, and she played her position. Kori picked and chose when he took her out. He selected and purchased her outfits too. Kima was a kept woman. Coming from where she had come from, it was all she could expect out of life in her eyes.

  The one thing Kima couldn’t stand was Kori’s temper. After she had been living with him for two years and the novelty of having material things had worn off, Kima noticed how everything set Kori off. If shit with his hustle didn’t go right, he’d take it out on her. If he didn’t cum hard enough during their sex sessions, he’d take it out on her. When one of his workers had gotten killed, Kori took it out on Kima. It had gotten to a point where she began to find ways to keep him happy so that she wouldn’t catch the wrath. It had gotten so bad that Kima would do anything to keep Kori happy so she didn’t have to endure what would come if he was not content.

  * * *

  Kima stayed up fighting her sleep as
Kori drank himself into a rage and practically destroyed their home again. They had just replaced two mirrors, had a wall fixed, and purchased a new dinette set that Kori had destroyed during one of his fits of rage. Tonight, Kima was thanking God for her big belly because that was the one thing that had kept Kori from his usual with her. But nothing would keep him from screaming and saying mean things to her. Kima expected him to blame her for his problems at some point too. It was a routine occurrence, but something about this time just seemed to give her a deeper feeling of dread than the other times. Especially now that he had polished off almost an entire bottle of coconut Cîroc.

  “I do everything for you! I do everything for my dudes! I do everything for everybody else! But what the fuck do y’all muthafuckas do for me? Right now, I don’t have nobody to fuckin’ get my trap down south! These worthless niggas I fuck with got warrants so they can’t go. Sending them would be like taking them to a judge’s doorstep and saying sentence this nigga to life,” Kori slurred.

  He stomped back and forth in front of the couch in front of Kima. She just listened. Her eyes were burning because she was so exhausted, but she had to make Kori believe she was on his side. She nodded as he ranted.

  “How you gon’ feed that baby? Huh? How we gon’ eat? That North Carolina flow is my bread maker. You think a nigga eatin’ off of these li’l Brooklyn street sales?” he screamed.

  Kima’s head dipped. She was so tired. Kori’s booming voice snapped her right out of her nod. “Ride a Greyhound? That shit won’t work. They’re checking those shits with dogs these days! Take a plane? With all the, Bin Laden bullshit, that won’t fuckin’ fly no more either! Times are changing! This bitch, Junie done got her ass locked up! Fifty years old, and she gets locked up for stealing sheets and towels out of Macy’s! Stupid-ass bitch! I was paying this bitch a stack for each of those trips! She been running my shit for years! Her old ass never got stopped, she don’t draw no suspicion on the highway. But they said this bitch was greedy so she went and got herself, locked the fuck up!” Kori continued.