Girls From da Hood 9

by Amaleka McCall

  “What am I supposed to do?” he hissed into his cell phone. His back was turned so he didn’t notice me creep around the corner. “She has it. Give me one last night,” he insisted, taking the stairs.

  I knocked on my neighbor’s door several times and there was no answer. Fortunately, she gave me a key, which was in one of my kitchen drawers. After entering my apartment, I went into the kitchen, quickly rummaging through the drawer. I found the key and dashed out the door.

  I turned the key. The stench of urine from the apartment was damn unbearable. I found Agnes tied up with rope in the middle of her living room with a washcloth tied to her mouth. She was so pale.

  “Ms. Murphy,” I called out while untying her. The ropes were so tight that her wrists were covered in blood.

  “Help me, please,” she pleaded.

  “I’m going to help you. Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Craig is in trouble with those gamblers again. He wouldn’t let me go until I gave him the money to pay off his debt. I have been here for a week or more tied up. I couldn’t keep track of the days. I can’t believe my only son would do this to me,” she sobbed.

  “Everything is going to be all right,” I insisted.

  The first thing I did was grabbed some of her clothes and her medicines. I found a suitcase under her bed. I walked her over to my apartment. I let Agnes soak in the tub and gave her a bath. She was too weak to eat so I managed to find some chicken broth in the pantry along with some crackers. I had to make her drink at least six to seven water bottles. Within hours, Agnes fell asleep with Fera right by her side.

  Rage came upon me. At times like this, I got so angry that even my vision was blurry. How could a son treat his mother like garbage over money! He was going to torture her until she gave him the money. Agnes mentioned this wasn’t the first time he had threatened her, but he had never done anything like this to her. This time, she stood her ground and refused to bail her son out.

  While she slept, I turned on the television in the living room: “This is Wendy Morgan from news channel four. Good evening; we start first with the mysterious death of an unidentified man. He was found several weeks ago burned to death at a gas station. Police do not have any leads at this time. If you were a witness to this vicious crime, please call the crime line at 1-800-425-8973,” the news reporter stated.

  Chills went down my spine. This was the first and would be the last time that I ever made the news.

  Agnes continued to sleep. Nightfall arrived and I headed back to her apartment and waited and waited in the same chair that Agnes was tied to with one of her wigs on and her clothes on.

  Finally, the door cracked open. It was Craig. The aroma of alcohol mixed with that stench filled the air.

  “Mom, please just give me the money. They will kill me if I don’t come up with it,” he begged.

  “I have the money. It’s in the car,” I explained. Then, he untied me.

  “Good, because I parked right next to your car,” he said.

  We took the back way entrance to the garage. Thankfully, no one was outside. I started walking slow as Agnes did. Craig was so drunk. He couldn’t tell that I was far from his mother.

  “Get in your car and I will bring it to you. No more money. After this, I want you out of my life,” I said.

  “Mom, this won’t happen again,” he said with spit drooling down his mouth.

  My knife blade was already in position to attack. I cut him right above his eyebrows and stabbed him in the stomach. “You belong in hell. Those guys you owe money to won’t be able to get you now,” I whispered in his ear while taking the blade from his stomach. Then, I revealed my face to him. He gasped for air and quickly took off in his car.

  The next morning, I called the police. By this time, Agnes wasn’t pale at all. The paramedics still insisted they take her to the hospital. She told the police exactly what she told me.

  “Officer, Ms. Murphy insisted that I don’t call the police, but I had to do something,” I explained.

  “We do see a small number of parental abuse cases. You did the right thing by calling us,” the officer responded.

  While there, the police confirmed her son Craig was found dead at the river docks, stabbed to death. The police chalked it up to the men he owed money to. Meanwhile, I called Agnes’s sister in Connecticut to come down for a few days. The next call I made was to a cleaning company. When she arrived home, I wanted her apartment to be spotless.

  The doctors wanted her to stay in the hospital for at least a week for observation.

  “I can’t thank you enough, Angela. Thank you for rescuing me,” Agnes said.

  “You’re welcome,” I replied, giving her a hug with my mind on Joyce. I missed her so much.

  Tomorrow, I would get some much-needed rest.

  Chapter 21

  Lunch

  “Hey,” I said, giving Becca a hug after the waitress seated me.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation,” she mentioned.

  “Becca, you had emergency spleen removal surgery. Even if I had the ceremony in the hospital cafeteria, you wouldn’t have been able to make it,” I replied. We began to laugh.

  “You’re right,” she added.

  “Besides, a friendship with me shouldn’t be based on whether you’re there for every major event in my life. A real friend is there every day in spirit. We live miles apart but I have picked up the phone and you have stayed on the phone all night hearing me cry about losing Joyce. The next morning, you had to be work at six. That’s a true friend.”

  “Thank you. So how do you feel, college graduate? Not to mention you graduated a semester early. “

  “Joyce and George are proud of me. I’m showing my mother and will never stop showing her that I became something,” I stated.

  “Yes, you did.” She nodded.

  “What are you having for lunch?” I asked.

  “I want the Moroccan chicken salad with no avocados,” Becca said, pointing to the entrée on the menu. We were at California Pizza Kitchen at Town Center.

  “Good choice. I think I will have the spinach and artichoke pizza,” I noted. I was grateful to be eating an early lunch since I was starving.

  “Have you been nightmare free lately?” Becca asked.

  “Yes, up until three days ago. I notice that if I don’t have enough sleep, the nightmares come back. They are getting worse,” I explained. My heart started beating fast.

  “Hi, I’m Sara. What can I get you ladies to drink?” the waitress asked.

  “Raspberry tea, for me,” Becca replied.

  “Ice-cold water. Please hurry,” I suggested. The room was starting to spin.

  “Are you all right?” Becca asked.

  “I will be.” I pulled my medicine bottle out of my purse so I could take my anxiety pill. I took a deep breath while my hands clinched the table.

  “Do you want to leave?”

  “No, I’m not going to spoil the fun,” I replied. My pill was kicking in now.

  “All right.”

  “As I was saying about the nightmares, they are getting more intense. I am running in the dream with my mother chasing me. She has a belt in her hand. I’m younger, too; around the age of ten or eleven years old. The other night, she was chasing me and I came to a cliff. It was either jump or endure the beating from her. Then, I woke up soaked in a cold sweat,” I explained.

  “Here are your drinks, ladies,” the waitress announced, placing them on the table.

  “Thank you,” we both said in unison.

  “Have you told this to the psychiatrist?” Becca asked.

  “No. I only see her if I need a medication refill.”

  “You don’t like her?”

  “She is too abrupt and wants me to confront my feelings. These days, I can’t even speak of my mother without popping a pill. “

  “Find another doctor.”

  “I will. It’s not high on th
e priority list, right now.”

  “I’m going to the bathroom. I will be right back.”

  “Angela?” a voice called out.

  “Larry,” I spoke.

  “Do you mind if I have a seat where you’re sitting?” he asked.

  He was dressed in his work clothes. Larry was such a hard worker that I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had contracts with several restaurants in this area. He was a contractor. Working on the farm became a side job for him.

  “Well, I’m with my friend Becca. I can chitchat for a few minutes. How are you?” I smiled.

  “I’m baffled, to say the least. We had sex in the barn and I simply don’t hear from you. I leave several messages and texts and still no answer.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Conversation. Maybe, you could have picked up the phone at least one time. We need to talk.”

  “Larry, talk about what? We had sex. Damn, it was good. You want some more. Right now,” I added, rubbing his leg. I was getting horny.

  “No, Angela. I’m not going to be a sex buddy to you. I thought maybe you cared for me a little.”

  “Listen, I can’t be in a relationship. I don’t want to talk all the time . . .”

  “But you will have sex with me. I’m not that kind of guy. What I am is a man who needs more than that. I want to get to know you even more. You’re a beautiful and caring person,” he explained.

  “Larry, I’m damaged. There isn’t a fix or a cure for people like me. Besides, I don’t need your pity on me,” I screamed. Then, I quickly lowered my voice.

  “I know all about what happened to you. Angela, you will overcome what your moth—”

  “Stop right there. Leave me alone. This conversation is over,” I demanded. Larry got up and walked out of the door.

  “Who was that?” Becca questioned as she returned to the table.

  “He is one of George’s friends out here working a job and came over to say hello,” I explained. “Tell me and provide all the details about the brand-new marketing job you already have landed,” I suggested, desperately wanting to change the subject.

  I quickly wanted to get my mind off the conversation with Larry. He just wanted to fix me and make me better. Life didn’t work that way. I murdered men, bad men, preferably.

  Chapter 22

  News

  Last Sunday, George urged me to go along with him for a routine doctor’s appointment, so I did. Lately, he had been acting not himself. Usually, George was immaculate head to toe. One day, he didn’t have his socks on. As was the same for me, he just really missed Joyce. It had been a little over a year.

  I suspected George wanted me to go to the doctor with him so I could be relieved that he had a clean bill of health.

  I didn’t get any sleep last night. My body wouldn’t go into rest mode.

  “George Miller.” The nurse called us back into one of the doctor’s offices. I had been here before when I was a little girl. Joyce and I would sit in the waiting room as we ate cinnamon candy and sang church songs. She loved the Clark Sisters. Cinnamon candy was one of her favorites.

  Twenty minutes passed. I could barely keep my eyes opened. There was a light tap on the door.

  “Come in,” George said.

  “Hey, tough guy,” Dr. Knorr said to George.

  “Hey, Doc.” George snickered.

  “Angela, I haven’t seen you in years. How the heck are you?” he asked, giving me a hug.

  “I’m doing well, and just trying to figure out my next move after graduating college.”

  “Graduate school on the horizon for you?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” I added.

  “What was your major?”

  “Biology.” I nodded my head.

  “Pre-med. The state of Virginia has a large shortage of doctors, especially in family medicine,” he suggested.

  “I will think about,” I said.

  “Mr. Miller, how are you feeling?” the doctor asked.

  “Doc, I’m feeling great.”

  “You should be. Your EKG, blood work, and urinalysis all came back within normal ranges. Also, I gave you a referral to go see a neurologist. I have test results back from that.”

  “Yes, you did. That doctor was strictly business. He didn’t have much of a bedside manner,” George added.

  “I will have to speak with him about that. You are the fifth patient to tell me the same thing this month. At the neurologist there was a mini mental-state exam that you had completed. Based on the test results, you didn’t do so well.”

  “This man is in his sixties. The only exam he should be performing is which chicken is the best to sell to the local grocery store,” I said. We all began laughing.

  “On a serious note, the test revealed that you have early stages of Alzheimer’s,” the doctor revealed.

  “What! I can’t lose George too,” I said. My heart began to race and my palms were sweating. My hands were shaking. I sat down in the chair and started taking deep breaths.

  “She needs water,” George said.

  “I will get some water.” The doctor quickly dashed out of the room and returned with a Styrofoam cup of water. George reached into my purse to get out a pill. I took a deep breath. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

  “Do you want me to continue?” the doctor questioned.

  “Yes.” I nodded.

  “Angela, I know that is a lot take in all at once. Do you need to leave the room?” he asked.

  “No, I will be okay. I need to hear this too.” I nodded my head.

  “Very well, then. George, I recommend that you don’t live by yourself anymore. That large farm and all those animals are a huge responsibility for you. I suggest that you may want to consider living in an assisted-living home. I have prescribed a drug called Exelon for you. It has been sent to your pharmacy already. It will slow down the progression of the disease,” he explained with pamphlets and brochures in his hands.

  I began to cry so much that my face was hurting. George and the doctor were comforting. I felt guilty. George was the one who had the condition, not me.

  “George, I want to see you back in my office in a month so I can evaluate this new medication.”

  “Sure thing, Doc.”

  “Angela, it was nice seeing you again. I apologize for the circumstances,” the doctor explained, shaking my hand and then George’s hand.

  “Listen, Angela, I know the cards of life you have been dealt have not been the best. I’m going to be all right,” George expressed while I was driving.

  “How so? One day, you won’t even know my name,” I sobbed.

  “Think positive. Right now, I’m thinking about my future. At this very moment, I want to go down to Marlene’s Cafeteria for something to eat. “

  “Okay, we will head there now.”

  “Angela, I’ve been working on a farm all my life. I need to retire from it. This is a good opportunity for me to downsize. Just promise me that you will always keep the farm and its land in the family.”

  “I promise.” I nodded.

  At lunch, George and I looked over the brochures of some of the assisted-living homes. He even wanted to go visit one today after lunch.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Darcy, the property manager here at Pinehill Manor Homes. What can I help you with?” she asked while shaking both of our hands.

  “Hi, we’re here to view an apartment. My grandfather would like to find a cozy unit to call home,” I said.

  “I can definitely help you with this request. How many bedrooms were you looking for, sir?”

  “Probably about two,” he said.

  George loved the apartments. It was in the heart of downtown Chesapeake. Plus, he was only fifteen miles away from my apartment. He decided to put down a deposit on a unit. While he and the manager discussed business, I went to go look around. I walked around only to find a rosebush. It was beautiful with white roses. The complex was surrounded by rosebushes.

 
; I heard a faint yell coming from an apartment on the main level. “Stop,” a woman’s voice said.

  I looked in the apartment to see a maintenance worker of the complex and a young woman in the kitchen.

  “My grandmother will be home any minute. Just go and leave me alone.”

  “I have had my eye on you, little lady, for quite a while,” he said while taking his pants down. I knocked on the door and ran away to divert his attention.

  “You had better keep your damn mouth shut,” he instructed her.

  He ran out and started fixing a hole in the ground as if nothing happened.

  Later on that night, George had decided to sell the animals to the highest bidder. He wanted to enjoy life and take a break. I didn’t blame him. Hard work was in his blood. It would feel strange to see George relaxing. Before you knew it, he would be telling me that he met a special woman at the grocery store on senior citizen discount day. These changes were going to be hard for me. The animals represented George and Joyce. She was gone. I didn’t know if I could bear to see George wither away in front of my eyes.

  I decided Fera and I would be staying with George tonight.

  “Do you need anything? I need to make a quick run to the store,” I informed him.

  “No, I’m fine. All I need is a good night’s rest. I have got a big day ahead of me tomorrow.”

  I was on my way back to Pinehill Manor Homes to search for that piece of trash. I waited for hours and didn’t see him. Tomorrow was a brand new day.

  Luckily, the next night he was there. I spotted him in the main office gathering up trash. With my knife in its rightful position, I was ready to deal with him.

  I parked my car near the trash can hoping he would be coming my way. He was listening to his iPod. Adrenaline came over me. My body even began to feel hot. I came from behind, jerked his head back, and sliced him right above his forehead. He began to scream.