Girls From da Hood 9

by Amaleka McCall

“The block is hot! That means that mean green for you, baby.” Carlene giggled, leaning in to kiss Took’s ugly cheek. She was like a different person all of a sudden.

  Took was preparing to park the car so we could get out, but before he could bring it to a complete stop, three scary-looking people—two skinny women and a very sweaty-looking man—rushed toward Took’s window.

  “Yo, Took, man, where you been? I need a nick—” The first skinny woman began stretching her balled fist toward Took. She was quickly cut off.

  “Bitch, can’t you see I just pulled up! I got my kid in the car and shit. Have some fuckin’ respect, you fiend! Get the fuck outta here until I park my whip!” Took screamed at the lady. The skeletal lady and her counterparts jumped back as Took purposely swerved the car like he was going to hit them.

  I ain’t his kid, I thought. I’ll never be the kid of no red-eyed devil. However, since I never knew who my father was, it did feel kinda good to have a man claim me like that.

  “Y’all gotta get out. I gotta go see Big K. I need to re-up. I ain’t got no more shit and as you can see these fiends don’t never rest,” Took said to Carlene with an urgency in his voice.

  Carlene leaned over and kissed him again. I gagged just looking at that nasty shit. “Go get that work, daddy. I’ll be waiting for you when you get back, so don’t take all long,” Carlene said in a husky, trying-to-be-sexy voice that made my skin crawl. Then she turned toward me. Her face changed. It was suddenly crumpled like she was smelling something real stink. “C’mon get out! And wipe them damn crusty boogers off your face!” she yelled at me.

  I rolled my eyes and made a feeble attempt to wipe the crusted snot and tears from my face. Wide-eyed I exited the car, wondering what kind of life I was about live. It was like a different world in front of that building. There were at least sixty things going on at once: people dancing, people arguing, people drinking, people smoking, kids playing, kids fighting, babies crying, babies sleeping. It was like all the people who lived inside that tall building with all of those windows were all outside engaged in some activity. They were all staring at Carlene and me now as we walked up.

  Suddenly I felt embarrassed, ashamed of how I looked. I had never had to worry about that feeling while I was with Nana. But now, all eyes were on me. I had nothing but the clothes on my back. When they snatched me from Nana’s, I was in what Nana referred to as “play clothes” so I wasn’t even in one of my best outfits. The jeans I wore were a little too high and the T-shirt a little too tight. They were my last year’s clothes that Nana made me wear around the house when we weren’t going anywhere special. I had plenty of nice clothes at Nana’s house, but Carlene hadn’t taken the time to bring my clothes or toys, and Nana was too preoccupied with trying to keep me there to pack a bag for me.

  As I walked toward the front of 2949 West Twenty-third Street—my new home—I looked around at all of the people as they looked at me. One set of kids caught my full attention. There was a group of girls playing double Dutch. “Ten, ten, ten, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, one up, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, two up!” They all sang in unison as one girl jumped in the middle of their rope.

  One girl in particular caught my attention. She was turning on one end of the rope, and as I stared, she smiled. She was real pretty. Her hair was long and neatly done in a lot of ponytails. She wore yellow from head to toe and it seemed to bring out her Crayola-crayon brown skin. She kept her eye on me while she turned the rope made from telephone wire. I waved real quick and kept walking. I immediately wanted to get to know that little girl with the kind smile and kind eyes.

  “Hey, Peaches, who you got there?” yelled an old, overweight woman wearing a housecoat. The woman’s body spilled left and right on the bench she occupied to the left of the building’s entrance. She was talking to Carlene, so it quickly became obvious to me that Carlene’s nickname was Peaches. I thought it was just something Took called her. I guess not. Shit, to me Carlene looked far from a peach.

  “This my daughter, Kelsi. I told you I had a daughter. What? You ain’t believe me?” Carlene said dryly, but continued switching her ass into the building.

  “She’s a pretty little thing. Sure don’t look nothing like you!” the lady replied, cackling and coughing at the same time after.

  Carlene kept moving full speed ahead like she didn’t want the lady to look at me too long. “Lula is so got-damn nosey. Always tryin’a make somebody out to be a fucking liar,” Carlene whispered to herself as we stood waiting for the elevator. Carlene jammed her finger at the elevator button over and over like she didn’t believe it would ever come.

  For the first time since we’d left Nana’s, I could tell Carlene was just as nervous about this new living arrangement as I was. She wouldn’t look at me, but I could see her bottom lip quivering a bit. Maybe she wants me to like her. Carlene and I didn’t speak a word during the elevator ride. I busied myself reading the words somebody had scribbled in black marker on the shiny silver walls of the stinky elevator: REEREE IS A SLUT.DANASUCKSMAJORDICK.YOURMOTHERIN6CISUGLY. DAYDAY IS A FAGGOT. These were just a few of the things that stuck out to me. Nana probably would’ve covered my eyes to keep me from reading those bad words. Carlene didn’t care.

  Exiting the elevator, Carlene led the way. She rushed down the long, dimly lit hallway and I followed. The stale air assaulted the insides of my nostrils with a million different odors at once. I could smell the aroma of fried chicken, pee, fish, and garbage all rolled into one big whiff. As I passed one apartment, I could hear music blasting so loud the little knocker on the door vibrated. Another apartment had its front door wide open. The occupants inside moved around like they didn’t even notice the door was open. Another apartment had huge dents in the door and bright yellow tape that said CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS in the form of an X across it. Seemed like the projects were going to be much noisier and busier than I was used to. What really got me was all of the garbage on the floor in front of the incinerator. They gotta live here. How come they couldn’t just pull the handle and put the garbage in?

  Apartment 4G—that’s what the black letter and number on the door Carlene stopped at read. Carlene fished her keys from her pocketbook and opened the blue steel door. “Home, sweet, fucking home!” she exclaimed, stepping inside like she was introducing me to a palace.

  Standing at the threshold, I raised my eyebrows, and covered my mouth. I felt a hard ball in my throat and something funny was going on in my stomach. Tears sprang up at the edges of my eyes. First of all the house stunk like garbage and dirty feet. Beer cans, soda bottles, clothes, Chinese food boxes, and any other item of garbage you could think of covered the floor. I used the back of my hand to wipe my tears and cover my nose at the same time.

  “You better stop acting like you too good and brang yo’ ass on in here. This where we stay so this is where you stay. Get all that other shit out of your mind. I’m ya mother,” Carlene said, pulling me farther into the hellhole.

  As I slowly walked in, my sneakers made low crackling sounds, as the soles stuck to the sticky, dirty tiles on the floor. The floor was a sickening shade of grey, but I knew the tiles were supposed to really be off-white. I examined my surroundings as I dodged the roaches scurrying back to their hiding places. There was so many of them they all couldn’t find places to hide. “Eeeelll!” I screamed as one fell from some place high and landed on my arm. I started jumping and moving and swiping at my arms to make sure it was off of me.

  “Bitch, you ain’t ever seen a roach before?” Carlene hissed.

  “Not this many and not on me,” I commented, disgusted.

  “Too bad! You better get used to living here because you sure won’t be going back to live with that lady,” she snapped.

  “And my name is Kelsi,” I mumbled sassily. Carlene had taken to calling me the B word and I was getting tired of it.

  “I call you what I want to call you . . . bitch,” Carlene retor
ted, getting so close to my face I could smell the Royal Crown grease in her scalp.

  I didn’t think she had heard me. I had finally moved far enough into the apartment to really access everything I was going to have to contend with. I was trying to find at least one thing that I might be able to live with there, but it wasn’t easy. There was no furniture in the so-called living room. Sheets covered the windows instead of the nice lace curtains I was used to at Nana’s house. A small, raggedy plastic folding table with one chair and one milk crate that served as a chair sat to the side of the small kitchen. The kitchen sink had dishes piled in it and to both sides of it. The dishes had food on them so old, black, green, blue, and grey mold grew in tall piles on some of the plates. The stove was caked with old brown and yellow grease. So was the wall behind it. I was scared to open the refrigerator; there were so many roaches around it I didn’t bother. The kitchen had two ways to get in and out, so I exited on the side closest to the apartment door. I thought about making a run for it. But, where would I have gone? Being in Brooklyn was like being in a foreign country for me. I would’ve never figured out how to get back to the Bronx. Nana had kept me too sheltered for that.

  As I stepped out of the kitchen, I had a clear view straight down a small hallway that led to the back of the apartment. I noticed that there was only one bedroom to the back of the apartment. Where will I sleep? I thought sadly, thinking about how I usually slept with Nana every night.

  Carlene emerged from a darkened room at the back of the apartment. “You gonna sleep right here,” Carlene huffed, dragging a dirty foam mattress into the empty living room. I guessed that answered my question.

  “Listen, bitch, there are rules to staying here,” Carlene said as she lit the end of a cigarette.

  My jaw rocked as I bit down so hard my temples throbbed. I told you my name is Kelsi! I screamed in my head.

  “First, don’t touch the refrigerator and nothing in it unless you ask me or Took. You don’t buy shit, you don’t eat shit, unless we tell you to. Especially if you see a Pepsi in there, don’t you ever, ever touch my Pepsi. Drink water! Kids drink water. If I decide to give you something else to drink, I will; if not, drink fucking water. Period. Don’t touch the TV or stereo in my room. Matter of fact, don’t touch shit in my room or go in there unless I send you in there or call you in there. Don’t leave out this house without my permission or if me or Took take you out. You can’t go outside unless I say you can go. There will be no fucking company in my house. These fucking kids around here are no good and I don’t want them in my fucking crib. You got chores around here, so you ain’t gonna be bored at all. You gotta do the dishes, and clean the bathroom, kitchen, and where you sleep at. Last of all, I see you growing up now, getting a little bit of buds for tits and rounding out to get a li’l bit of ass. Don’t even think about looking cross-eyed at my man. That will get your ass thrown right outta here! Too many of y’all young bitches fuckin’ people old man and then yelling ’bout somebody touched y’all or molested y’all. That shit don’t fly around here so you better keep that li’l body to ya’self,” Carlene rambled off, contaminating my breathing air with a cloud of smoke as she finished up.

  I bit into the side of my jaw until I tasted the salty, metallic flavor of my own blood. My hands were locked into fists and my vision clouded over in shades of burgundy and red. Even as young as I was, what the hell made her think I wanted her albino man? I wasn’t even old enough to think about boys my own age, much less a nasty-looking man like Took!

  My first night there, I tossed and turned. I had never slept alone. I missed the scent of Nana’s butterscotch that comforted me every night as Nana and I shared a pillow. Carlene didn’t even give me a blanket, much less a pillow. I slapped at my leg as I felt needle-like pricks over and over again. Scratching them seemed to make it worse. I finally realized that there were bugs biting me on the dirty mattress. I got up and sat in the lone chair that sat outside of the kitchen. I used the milk crate to prop my feet up. I told myself I would sleep sitting up. It seemed like as soon as I finally fell into a fitful sleep, slouched to the side in the chair with my head on the dirty plastic table, Carlene was standing over me.

  “Get up, bitch! We got a appointment today!” she screamed, shaking me hard.

  Dazed, I looked up. The smell hit me first. It was like the nastiest underarm funk I had ever smelled in my life. I blinked my eyes a few times to get them to focus. They went wide. Carlene was damn near butt-ass naked, wearing just a small camisole. I crinkled my face and I wanted to hide my eyes. Nana had never, ever, let me see her naked. That was the first time I had ever seen a hairy cootie cat (that was me and Nana’s name for a woman’s privacy area). I immediately closed my eyes back.

  “Bitch, I said get up! Now! I ain’t gonna tell you again! I gotta be at face to face in a few minutes and you gotta be there too!” Carlene rasped, sounding like a monster to me.

  I had no idea what she was talking about, “face to face.” Nonetheless, I dragged myself up out of the chair. My neck ached and I could hardly turn it left or right. I guessed from the way I’d slept all twisted. I had slept in my clothes because, of course, Carlene hadn’t bothered to give me pajamas. “I need a wash rag and towel,” I mumbled to Carlene.

  “Just wash your face with the one that’s hanging in there. I gotta do laundry when we come back . . . if you hurry the fuck up and these people give me my check,” she grumbled.

  The bathroom was worse than the rest of the house if you asked me. I lifted my shirt over my nose as I surveyed how I would maneuver in that nasty-ass bathroom. The toilet seat was supposed to be light blue, but it was stained with yellow specs and brown streaks at the back. Behind the seat, on the white part, was hair, dirt, piss, and doo-doo stains. I pulled my pants down and squatted over the toilet, trying to be careful not to have my skin come in contact with the toilet at all. I already knew from the day before that I wasn’t so great at it. Again, some of the pee drizzled down my right leg and on the back of my panties. To make matters worse, there was no toilet tissue. Carlene and Took had obviously been using newspaper and brown paper bag to wipe their asses. I wasn’t doing that! I bounced a few times hoping I could drip dry.

  I felt disgusting and wanted to take a shower badly. Nana had just let me start taking showers instead of sit-down baths when I turned seven. That idea quickly faded when I looked over at the bathtub. “Yuck!” I whispered, frowning until my cheeks hurt. I refused to step foot in that thing. It was black in the bottom with rings and rings of body dirt. It looked like it had not been washed in years. The edges had old, caked-on soap stains that would probably need a metal scraper to remove. The wall tiles were black in between and the faucets were caked with green and grey stuff. I turned back toward the sink and looked in the stained mirror. My hair was a mess and my face had red splotches on it. Those bed bugs must’ve bitten me in the face before I got up and sat in the chair. My eyes were crusty. I guessed the tears I had cried in my sleep for Nana had dried into crust. I reached up for the lone face rag that hung stiffly on the silver pole over the tub. I couldn’t reach it, so I had to step onto the tub for a boost. When I snatched the rag down from the pole, I could tell it was dirty. It was so stiff it stayed bent in half like it was still hanging on the pole even after I had it in my hand. I swallowed hard. I turned on the hot water and stuck the rag under the stream. The water even seemed to repel from that face rag. Finally, I got it soft enough to wring it out. I reluctantly put it up against my face to wipe away the crust and sleep. “Agh, agh!” I gagged. That rag stank like somebody’s ass! I threw it into the sink like it was a poisonous snake. I wasn’t putting that thing back on my face.

  I cupped my hands and splashed some water on my face. I looked around. I had no toothbrush either. There was no toothpaste in sight, but a box of baking soda on the back of the sink. I remembered that sometimes I would watch Nana brush her teeth with baking soda after using toothpaste. “That makes your teeth whiter,” Nana tol
d me once. I decided I’d use the baking soda and my finger to brush my teeth. I pulled back the top on the baking soda. “Ah!” I jumped and dropped the entire box on the floor. It was filled with so many roaches there was hardly any baking soda left. Tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I jumped at the sound of Carlene banging on the door. My heart was thundering.

  “C’mon, bitch! This ain’t no fucking beauty pageant. Wash your face and let’s go! If I miss this appointment I gotta wait another four weeks for one,” she screamed.

  I felt hot all over. I cupped my hand again and got a little bit of water in my mouth. I swished it around and spit it out. I took some of Carlene’s Royal Crown hair grease that sat on the back of the toilet and spread it on my face. That worked to get rid of the crusty streaks. I came out of the bathroom and Carlene was dressed and ready to go. She didn’t even wash up. Nasty, stink ass, I said to myself. I would soon learn that Carlene was dirty in more ways than one.

  We took two trains to get to Carlene’s appointment. I fell asleep since I hadn’t slept the night before. It was crazy how soothing the train was to me, even with all of those strangers on it. The noise, the slight swaying motion was comforting. It was the trains I would take to as comfort as I got older, too.

  I was so hungry by the time we got to Carlene’s appointment I had a pounding headache. My mouth was desert-sand dry and my lips were cracked. Carlene was bouncy and jittery like she had eaten a bag of sugar. “When we get inside don’t ask me for shit out that vending machine or nothing like that. Don’t speak to nobody unless I tell you to and I’ll answer all the questions. You understand me, bitch?” Carlene told me, pointing a jittery finger in my face like I had done something wrong. I rolled my eyes at her. She was so ugly to me now.

  AID FOR DEPENDENT CHILDREN. I read the sign in my head. That was the line me and Carlene got on. We were far back in the line, too. There were so many people there. I counted at least eighteen pregnant ladies and all of them had more kids with them aside from the one in their belly. Some of them had little babies and were pregnant again, too. How was that even possible? The line moved real slow, as one name at a time was called. My legs and the bottom of my feet throbbed, on top of the drumbeat of pain pounding between my ears. I was dying to go sit on one of the dirty orange, yellow, or light blue chairs that were situated around the walls. There were no empty ones anyway. It seemed like a lifetime before Carlene and I got to the lady behind the scratched-up Plexiglas window.