Girls From da Hood 9

by Amaleka McCall

  “I already took a shower today,” Cheyenne pouted with her eyebrows crunched up. Her mother smiled and tilted her head again. I caught it. Obviously Cheyenne did too. Cheyenne immediately changed her facial expression.

  “O-kaay,” Cheyenne droned. “C’mon, Kelsi, I want to show you my room. Plus, we have to wash up and change before we get to go to the rides,” Cheyenne told me.

  I didn’t fully understand it then, but as I got older I figured it out. There was no way the Turner family was going to take me out with them, looking the way that I did in my dirty play clothes. They had standards to uphold.

  Cheyenne’s bedroom was any little girl’s dream. She had Pepto Bismol pink walls with white trimmings. She had a queen-sized bed with four long white posts and a pink canopy connecting them. She had a plush pink, white, and purple Barbie bedspread. Her curtains were Barbie and so was the throw rug on the floor. There was a tall dresser with crystal knobs and a grand standing floor mirror with beautiful white trimming. It was like something from a queen’s castle.

  “Let’s find matching outfits like my mother said,” Cheyenne said, stepping over to her double-door closet.

  I couldn’t even speak. I was too busy feeling the tornado swirl of emotions surging in my head. I felt jealous, inferior, happy to be there, sad to be there. I wished I was back with Nana, but that I could still be friends with Cheyenne. It was so much to think about. All I wanted to do at that point was lie down on that pink carpet and ball up into a knot.

  When Cheyenne pulled back the doors of her closet, a lump the size of a handball formed in my throat. I had never seen anything like it, except on TV. Cheyenne had rows and rows of clothes—dresses, jeans, skirts, shorts, blouses, and T-shirts, all coordinated and hanging by color and style. She had stacks of shoe and sneaker boxes. There was a long hanging thingy with plastic shelves containing colorful headbands, pocketbooks, bracelets, and everything girls love inside. It didn’t even seem to faze Cheyenne. Having so much seemed to be blah, blah, blah to her.

  “Okay . . . my mother said to find stuff with tags. So here is four outfits. If you like them, you can have them. I don’t even want them. I never wore none of it, so they are yours to keep,” Cheyenne said with ease, tossing the color-coordinated outfits onto the bed.

  I was blinking rapidly. It was like Cheyenne’s closet was a store and I was on a free shopping spree. Even when I was with Nana, I never had it like that. There was so many skirts, dresses, and jeans in a rainbow of colors. Outside of the closet was the same.

  Cheyenne had two huge Barbie Dreamhouses in either corner of her room. She had shelves on her walls with rows and rows of Barbie dolls all dressed in beautiful dresses. She had so many stuffed animals it was a like a jungle and a zoo in her room. She had a shelf filled with every board game you could imagine. A bookshelf filled with all types of books. Her dresser had a glass tray on it that held at least ten pretty crystal bottles of perfume. I walked over to it. Cheyenne had gold rings, chains, and earrings all laid nicely on her dresser as well.

  My heart was racing and I didn’t even know why. I picked up a thick, shiny gold necklace with XOXOs made out of the gold. “You like that? It’s called an X and O link. My daddy gave it to me for my birthday. You know what Xs and Os mean?” Cheyenne said and asked all in one breath.

  I quickly put the chain back down on the dresser. I shook my head no.

  “For real? You don’t know that Xs and Os means kisses and hugs? When Daddy gave me that chain he said he was the first man to every shower me with hugs and kisses,” Cheyenne recalled dreamily.

  I was suddenly aware that my lips were hanging open. This little girl had the world. I had nothing. I silently wondered who would be the first man to shower me with hugs and kisses. I scanned Cheyenne’s room one more time to take it all in.

  “Is your family rich or something?” I finally asked, my throat so dry the words hurt coming out.

  Cheyenne stopped moving in and out of her closet and turned her full attention toward me. She smiled the same pretty, carefree smile she always put on her face. It was so effortless for her to smile. I remembered feeling effortlessly happy like that when I was with Nana. What a difference a few days had made.

  “No, silly. My daddy works. He said we ain’t rich because rich people don’t have to work. One day he is gonna get rich and then me and my brother won’t have to work when we grow up,” Cheyenne explained as she continued to toss pretty items of clothing onto the bed. What she said made sense to me; rich people didn’t work. But, her family still seemed rich to me.

  Cheyenne and I both put on a pair of brand new jean shorts: hers was acid washed and mine were dark blue. She put on a purple T-shirt with a puffy rainbow on the front and I put on a pink one with a puffy heart on the front. Ms. Desiree did our hair to match, in six ponytails each, with pretty bubbles and barrettes. Cheyenne gave me a brand new pair of high-top Reeboks, and although they hurt my feet a little bit I didn’t dare say anything because I wanted them so badly.

  We all went to the rides at Coney Island that day. Big K spared no expense. He carried a knot of money in his pocket, which he had no problem peeling from. We rode every ride twice. We played every game and had arms full of stuffed animals after. We had cotton candy, Nathan’s franks, shrimp, soda, and huge swirly colored lollipops.

  Ms. Desiree and Big K danced in front of the Himalaya ride while Cheyenne and I rode it forward and backward. I couldn’t stop watching them. It was my first time witnessing love between a man and a woman. Big K held Ms. Desiree by the waist and hugged her from the back. He kissed her gently on her neck and acted like she was the only person there even though there were hundreds of people around. They picked Li’l Kevin up out of the stroller and held him between them, showering him with kisses. It was like I was watching a show on TV. The Turners were the perfect family.

  When Cheyenne and I were done riding, we ran to them.

  “Y’all enjoyed that?” Big K asked with his warm smile.

  We both chimed, “Yes!” in unison.

  As we walked around the rides, Big K held my hand on one side and Cheyenne’s on the other side. He called us his girls the entire night. Each time he did, I got a funny feeling inside. I immediately loved them all. Each one of the Turners had touched me in a different way. I’d gotten so lost in being a part of their family that I had altogether forgotten that I had to return to the hellhole where I now lived. When Big K pulled his Jeep car (which I learned was called a Range Rover) up to Carlene’s building, my stomach immediately knotted up.

  “You wanna go with me to walk her upstairs, Chey?” Big K asked Cheyenne.

  She looked like she was about to cry. I was biting my jaw inside to keep my own tears inside. Cheyenne and I moved slow as molasses through a straw getting out of that car that night.

  “Don’t forget your clothes,” Cheyenne said sadly. She grabbed a big bag of clothes and shoes she had picked out of her closet for me.

  I held on to the biggest stuffed animal that Big K had won for me.

  “Stop acting all sad. There’s always tomorrow and the next day. It ain’t the end of the world,” Big K told us as he took an armful of my stuff from the rides to carry.

  As soon as we all exited the elevator I felt flush with shame. The hallway stunk like burning hair and cat shit. Of course, there was a pile of garbage on the floor in front of the incinerator shoot.

  Big K walked strong and confidently like the stench and dirt didn’t faze him. I didn’t have to lead him to Carlene’s apartment either. He knew exactly where it was. Big K used the knocker and banged on the door like he was the police.

  God, please don’t let Carlene answer. God, please don’t let Took answer. God, please let them be gone so I have to go home with Big K. I chanted prayers inside my head.

  Big K banged again. This time he screamed out, “Peaches! Took!” Finally, the door opened a crack. The odor of rotting garbage mixed with bad fish wafted out of the apartment and shot straight
up my nose.

  I knew Cheyenne and Big K could smell it if I could. I looked at Cheyenne but she was just looking at the floor.

  “Yo, Peaches, open the damn door all the way,” Big K demanded.

  Carlene opened the door a little bit wider.

  “I’m bringing your shorty back,” Big K said, peering inside.

  Carlene had turned off the lights, I guessed so he couldn’t see inside.

  “Thanks for taking her,” Carlene said dryly.

  Big K looked at me pitifully like he was taking a stray dog to an animal shelter to be put to sleep.

  “I’m gonna come see you tomorrow,” Cheyenne said sadly.

  I just nodded and stepped toward Carlene.

  Big K handed her the bags and all of my goodies. I stepped inside of my reality and moved around in the darkness.

  “Yo, Peaches. Clean up this fucking place. You got a real good kid right there. She don’t deserve to live like this. What you do as an adult is ya business, but a kid don’t ask to be here. I’ma be checkin’ on that little one so you better do the right thing by her. Clean up this rat trap before I do something about it,” Big K lectured and warned at the same time.

  Carlene was shifting her weight from one foot to the next like she had to pee.

  I felt that funny feeling inside again. It couldn’t be anything other than my immediate love for Big K growing. I don’t know which grew faster: my love for Big K or my hatred for Carlene.

  Chapter 5

  Big K kept the promise he made the day he took me to the rides. Over the next year, he checked up on me daily. He kept Carlene in line, which made life a little bit easier for me. Between Big K and the welfare caseworker, Carlene had no choice but to put me in school that September. I had turned nine years old the month before school started.

  Cheyenne and I were definitely best friends by then. We never wanted to be separated. We shared everything. She didn’t judge me based on Carlene. I stopped feeling jealous of her life and just settled for being happy to be a part of it.

  During the school year Cheyenne and I got to see each other every day, even though she went to private school and I went to public school. I spent a lot of time with the Turners on the weekends, too, because Carlene and Took were too scared of Big K to protest.

  The living conditions at Carlene’s had only changed for a few weeks after Big K threatened Carlene, but I did what I could around the house to make myself feel better about living there. Big K also bought me a daybed with a clean, comfortable mattress and a pretty Barbie comforter set with matching pillows. I loved him more and more each day. I would secretly write him love letters, but then I’d use Carlene’s lighters to burn them before anyone could read them.

  It was June of 1996 when everything in everyone’s lives went haywire. It was the first day of summer break from school. I remember like it was yesterday. An unusual heat wave had swept through Brooklyn. The weatherman said the heat index made it feel like 102 degrees outside. He warned old people and children to stay indoors. It was so hot the old oscillating fan Carlene had in my room did nothing but blow hot air. I wasn’t allowed in her room where the air conditioner was. The heat kept me from sleeping. I had gotten up for the fifth time that night to stick my head in the cool breeze of the freezer door. It was the only little bit of relief I could get. As I dragged my feet and sweaty body back to my bed, I was startled by something moving in the dark. I jumped so hard a little bit of pee came out into my panties.

  Took was sitting on the end of my bed. His pale, naked chest seemed to glow almost neon in the little bit of light that was coming in the window from the streetlight outside. I let out a long sigh.

  “What are you doing on my bed?” I grumbled sassily. I hated Took and he hated me. We never had a good word to say to one another over the year I’d been there. He always let me know that I was a mouth to feed and a burden on him since Carlene didn’t do shit around the house. I used to pray every day for him to leave the house. Most days he did, unless he was in the kitchen cooking something that required baking soda, boric acid, and sometimes he sprayed something real stink on his concoctions.

  “Get off my bed. I’m sleepy and I wanna lie back down,” I snapped.

  Took patted the bed next to where he was sitting with his nasty white hand. I squinted my eyes in the darkness. He couldn’t be talking to me!

  “Come over here and don’t make no noise,” he whispered, sounding like a snake hissing. His command sounded like a foreign language to me.

  I folded my face into a frown and folded my arms indignantly. Is he out of his mind!

  “What? You stupid?! You better get off my bed right now! I’m not coming on the bed until you get out!” I said, raising my voice this time.

  Took jumped to his feet. I jumped too because his sudden motion had scared the shit out of me.

  Before I could move, run, put my hands up in defense, or anything, Took barreled into me like a bulldozer. I fell backward. My ass hit the tiled floor so hard my butt cheeks ached.

  “I said to come here, bitch,” he growled almost inaudibly. He grabbed me roughly by my arm and that was when I saw that he had a gun in his other hand.

  A lot of pee escaped my bladder this time. Enough to wet my panties all the way through. My chest moved up and down like I’d just run a relay race. I couldn’t catch my breath as I remembered that gun from the day he hit Nana with it.

  “What’chu doin’?” I huffed, trying in vain to loosen his painful grip on my arm.

  Took threw me on the bed roughly. He was naked except for a pair of boxers. He was so close to me I could see that the nappy, coiled hairs on his chest were the same ugly shade of brassy blond as the hair on his head. His nipples were pink and they stuck straight out like devil’s eyes.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he huffed in my face. His mouth reeked of whatever he had been drinking. His entire body stunk like liquor, sweat, and the stuff inside of firecrackers.

  “Ahh!” I started to scream, but it was short-lived. I felt a sharp pain across my face that sent the scream tumbling right back down my throat. My eyes shut involuntarily and little streaks of silver lights swirled around on the inside of my eyelids.

  Took slapped me again, this time on the other side of my face. Something popped at the back of my neck and a sharp, stabbing pain shot down my spine. My arms and legs felt weak. My chest ignited with fire. I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna kill you! a voice inside my head screamed over and over. No words came to my mouth. I felt buried alive because my brain was saying run, fight, scream, but my body would not listen.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. The smell of Took’s sweaty hand filled my nostrils as he clamped it down roughly over my nose and mouth. I finally tried to kick my legs but his weight was too much. I was pinned down. Pain swirled through my head so badly I could barely open my eyes.

  “If you fight it’s gon’ hurt. Relax and it won’t hurt much,” I heard Took’s muffled words hot against my ear. He used one of his muscular legs to force mine apart. He was fumbling under me.

  I felt his rough hand moving over my privacy. Nana had said to never let anyone touch me there. I couldn’t fight Took. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I heard Took spit then I felt his wet hand moving over me down there. He was fumbling again. I tried to moan.

  “I got this gun right next to your head. If you make noise I’ma use it,” Took panted into my ear.

  I could feel dribble coming out of the sides of my mouth under his hand. There was more movement. Next, I felt something slimy up against my left thigh.

  Took was grunting hard now. He was shaking like his nerves were bad. I could tell the slimy thing was in his hand now. He let out a sigh. After that he was pushing. His chest hairs were stabbing me in the face, like how the Brillo stabbed my hands when I washed dirty pots.

  Took let out a long sigh. Then more animal grunts.

  The sudden pain that filled my torso, abdomen, butt, and legs was indescribable. The best
I can recall it now is that it was like someone sticking a thick, fire-lit tree branch up my ass and twisting it over and over again.

  The grunts coming from Took was what I remember the most. He was like a horse after it had run a race, or a bull seeing red before it attacked.

  I knew then that what was happening would change my life forever. I also knew that I would never allow it to happen again. I wanted Took to die. The last thing I remember was praying for God to strike him down.

  I had to have passed out from the pain. The next thing I remember was waking up to Carlene’s usual rant.

  “Listen, bitch, if you think you gonna sleep and play with Cheyenne all day this summer that shit ain’t fucking happening. Get yo’ ass up and clean that kitchen and make something to eat,” Carlene was going on.

  It hurt to even open my eyes. My stomach felt like someone had cut me open and gutted me from the inside out. The heat was so thick in the room that my body fluids had my sheets completely soaked. When I finally opened my eyes, Carlene’s naked ass came into focus. I was used to that by then.

  Carlene had no motherly boundaries at all. Sometimes she didn’t even close her door and I could hear her moaning and groaning with Took. Cheyenne told me those noises were from sex. She learned that from a fast girl on our block named Nasty Neecy.

  “What the fuck happened to you? You sick or something?” Carlene rasped, terror etched on her face. “Where is you bleeding from?” she screeched, yanking the sheet all the way off the bed.

  There was blood on my nightgown and I didn’t even know it. I couldn’t unfold my legs. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t swallow. I couldn’t lift my head. Everything I attempted to do sent butcher-knife stabs of pain through my entire body.