Girls From da Hood 9

Home > Nonfiction > Girls From da Hood 9 > Page 26
Girls From da Hood 9 Page 26

by Amaleka McCall


  Funny, she didn’t strike me as the champagne or wine type. Learn something new every day I guessed.

  Despite her chipper mood I chimed in sadly, “Well, just make sure you pour a little on the ground for me. I don’t see me lasting more than a week without you.”

  I hated to admit it, but the realization that I’d finally be alone in here was facing me head-on and I couldn’t see a bright outcome no matter how hard I prayed or recited my psalms. Antonia wasn’t due to be released for another few months after getting in trouble a few times for starting fights in the yard. She’d gotten a reputation for being a troublemaker and having a short fuse; otherwise, she’d be getting out tomorrow too. Damn my luck.

  “Aww, sweetheart, don’t talk like that. I can do more for you out there than I could ever do in here.” Aeron waved her hand around like she was addressing a grand hall. She walked over and looked up at me, her large eyes wide and excited, her voice filled with exasperation. “How many times do I have to tell you not to worry, Mami?”

  “Aeron, this isn’t worry. This is me being realistic.” There was just too much for me to process at one time. I couldn’t control the tears that fell from my eyes. I was usually so good at hiding my pain or my fear. Storing everything up for late nights when I would cry myself to sleep or in the showers where my tears could roll down my face unnoticed. Yet, this time I just felt so empty and so drained of everything, I couldn’t hold them back.

  Aeron stared at me in stunned silence. I buried my face in my hands and let go of all the pent-up emotion I’d been holding back. My shoulders were shaking uncontrollably as I felt every last drop of hope leave my body. The bunk sank beside me and I felt Aeron’s arm wrap around my shoulders as she pulled me into her chest. I didn’t know how long we sat like that. I also didn’t know how the kiss started that put an end to my own assuredness about my sexuality.

  We’d never actually kissed before. She’d kept most of our encounters controlled and as passionless as possible. My eyes closed and my mind actually went blank that never happened when Dontay used to kiss me. It was nothing like kissing a man. Her lips were sweet, warm, and soft just like mine. I could taste the salt from my tears as the tip of her tongue traced my bottom lip, timidly at first. It sent shivers along my cheekbones like someone was standing beside me running a feather across my face.

  My mind was doing cartwheels bouncing around good and bad, right and wrong. Bad touch, this is still bad touch. My grown behind actually reverted to simple childhood logic as some kind of guiding light to keep me from getting lost. They teach you about sexual abuse and how to identify good touches and bad touches, but damn it they never said that a bad touch would feel good.

  I couldn’t breathe, yet I was breathing super fast at the same time. It was probably the pre-stages of hyperventilation. My lips parted ever so slightly, and she dove in. Our tongues touched. Aeron moaned against my lips. It was the softest, most feminine sound I’d ever heard her make and that sound alone sparked an instantaneous blaze that set my whole body on fire. What used to be the last thing I’d ever wanted from her was now the only thing I could possibly think about.

  I’d never felt this way for a woman. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel its beat reverberate through my chest downward to a similar throb building between my legs. She shifted from my lips and drifted a warm, slow kiss along my neck, stopping to suck and lick on a spot just beneath my ear that I never even knew existed.

  This is so wrong, I should stop her.

  Stop her for what? You might not get this kind of attention for a long time. Might as well enjoy it. I lost out to my own mental argument as my body reacted to her caresses and the flood gates were opened. I could feel it through my thin cotton panties, dampening my cotton pants. I was sure as hell there’d be a wet spot on the bunk if I got up. This was nothing like I’d ever expected. Her hands were soft and warm like heated satin running across my skin. She lifted my shirt just enough to slide under and tease my nipples with her fingers through the thin fabric of my bra. I was literally melting. That’s the best way to describe the things that her mouth and hands were doing to my body.

  And just as soon as it all started, she stopped. The heat from her mouth was replaced by the cool air. I opened my eyes, confused. Angry at whatever this interruption was.

  “We have to stop. As bad as I want you right now, I can’t risk not walking out of those doors in the morning. If we get caught . . .”

  “I know,” was all I could muster up the strength to say.

  “I promise if you don’t let yourself waste away in here, I’ll make it up to you okay?” She tenderly tilted my chin upward until my eyes locked with her deep brown ones.

  “What do you mean?” I was confused and horny, and suddenly so damn frustrated the last thing I wanted to do was make false promises.

  “Just promise me you’ll hang in there. I know I wasn’t the nicest to you, but I had to toughen you up. You’ll see. Just be strong for me. Let’s go to sleep.”

  I started to lie in my spot beside her on her bunk but she motioned for me to get in mine. In an entire three months together I’d never slept in my own bunk and the feeling isolated and empowered me at the same time.

  The lights switched on, an indication it was morning. I stretched and almost fell off my bunk as my eyes focused on Aeron in the mirror. She was dressed in a pair of skin-tight black jeggings. I never followed fashion but the equally skin-tight tank top she was rocking looked like an Emilio Pucci design I once saw when I was on Nordstrom’s Web site. Couldn’t be; the top I’d looked at cost damn near $900. I mentally shook my head and shamelessly continued my visual scan, admiring her new look. Were those red bottom heels? Probably knockoffs, but either way she looked like she’d just stepped out of a magazine.

  “Well good morning, my sweetness. Like what you see?”

  I was staring in stunned amazement at the transformation she’d made. “Where the heazy did you get those clothes? You look beautiful.”

  “My cousin dropped ’em off. And don’t say ‘heazy.’ I don’t know why you just don’t say ‘hell.’ We’re all going there anyway.” She rolled her eyes and huffed at me before continuing. “I couldn’t be seen walking out of here in anything less than spectacular; believe it or not, I do have an image to uphold, Mami.” She giggled and twirled like a little girl. Her hair spiraled around her like the women in the shampoo commercials.

  I was momentarily shell-shocked by the fact that Aeron, the no-nonsense, take-charge, bad girl actually giggled.

  “Well hell. I guess you’ll be turning heads all up and down the cell block. You’re gonna need an armed escort.” I swung my legs over the side of the bunk and just stared at her in wide-eyed awe.

  “You know, my first assignment as soon as I step foot on free ground is to look for your baby and your man. I promise. Okay?”

  I could only nod as I climbed down off the bunk feeling drab and small compared to her. “You don’t have to do anything for me. But I’d appreciate it.” I refused to cry. There was no reason for me to cry and get all emotional over someone leaving who was practically a complete stranger who made me do unspeakable things. I took a deep breath. Suck it up, girl. You ain’t about to be crying over no grown-tail woman. I pep-talked my tears away.

  “Well ain’t you just a fuckin’ ray of sunshine? C’mon, princess, bring ya ass. Your damn carriage is waiting outside and it’s blocking my damn gate.” Officer Blakely’s scrunched-faced self appeared out of nowhere and unlocked the cell door.

  Aeron grabbed up a few of her things, telling me I could keep everything else, and she left. We didn’t say good-bye, we didn’t hug, and inwardly I couldn’t help feeling like I’d just lost my best friend . . . perhaps even my lover.

  Chapter 5

  Some Company Loves Misery

  I spent most of the day alone in my cell. It was almost time for dinner and fear and depression kept me from eating or joining everyone out in the yard. My stomach rumbl
ed loudly in protest. I’d made up my mind to at least try to eat something. I was waiting for the cells to open when Officer Blakely’s stank face appeared in front of my cell.

  “Hey, princess, I thought you would get lonely so I brought ya ass some company.” Antonia stood close behind her, holding a box filled with her belongings, a smug sneer on her face.

  “What up, boo? You didn’t think big sis was gonna let you sit and cry all alone did you?”

  I stood in terrified silence as Antonia and Officer Blakely exchanged glances. I knew Antonia would pull this crap. I just figured I’d have at least a couple of weeks or a few days before Antonia tried to mess with me. I was in no way prepared for this.

  Blakely unlocked the cell door and Antonia leered at me as she walked over and placed her things onto the top bunk.

  “Y’all play nice,” Officer Blakely said sarcastically as she gave Antonia a wink. “If I hear any yellin’ from outta here I’ll just assume it’s a false alarm.”

  The key sliding the lock back into place sounded like a death sentence to my ears. I stood frozen, afraid to make eye contact, afraid to sit down, afraid to breathe.

  “You gonna just stand there and play mannequin or you gonna get over here and help me unpack my shit?” Antonia’s dark presence seemed to take up the entire cell.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll help you.”

  I didn’t even bother telling her that the top bunk was mine. There was no point in starting any drama this early on. Ephesians says that we should be humble, patient, and gentle, and so I’d try my best to accommodate her intrusion into my world. I walked over and opened her small box of things, removing her hair brush and folded uniforms. I placed them in the spots where Aeron used to keep stuff on a small shelf over the sink in a corner. Antonia climbed up onto the bunk and watched me like a vulture staring down a small animal from the sky. I could feel the heat from her eyes following me. All the tension was making my hands shake and the muscles in the back of my neck were tense. I recited the Lord’s Prayer over and over as I busied myself unpacking. I couldn’t bring myself to even glance in her direction.

  “You ain’t that bad looking, ma. ’Cept for them ugly-ass cornrows. When you get done unbraid that shit. I’on’t like it.” She spat her displeasure with my cornrows as if it were disrespectful to have my hair in a way she didn’t approve of.

  “If I unbraid my hair, I don’t have a flat iron or anything to straighten it out. It’ll look crazy.”

  My body slammed up against the cell wall with so much force I saw bright spots. Antonia had jumped off the bunk and slung me so hard my teeth chattered. She stood in front of me, her fingers digging hard into my shoulders and her nails cutting into my skin.

  “Bitch, did you hear me give you a muthafukin’ option? You take that shit out. I ain’t playing with your little scary ass.” She released me from her grip.

  I fought to keep my composure. It took everything I had to keep from crying. I nodded okay and walked on shaky legs to sit on the bottom bunk and started unbraiding my hair. This was going to be worse than I thought. I was delivered from the belly of the whale and dropped straight into the lion’s den with no weapon, no shield, nothing but the Word to protect me.

  When dinnertime came I was nothing more than a walking zombie. Antonia told me what to do, when to do it, and how. Say and Milan stared disapprovingly as I went to sit with Antonia’s group of friends in the cafeteria. The most I could manage to do with my hair was run my fingers through it. My shoulder-length wavy afro was a mess and I was too ashamed to make eye contact with anyone. I barely touched anything on my tray. One of Antonia’s friends kept smirking at me like my prison whites didn’t exist. She stared like she could see me buck-naked and she was enjoying it way too much.

  “Ay yo, Antonia. That’s a cute li’l toy you done got yourself. How much for me to play with it for a little while?” Her deep, masculine voice echoed into the empty pit in the center of my stomach. It bounced off of my spine and vibrated up toward my ears as I stared down at my tray afraid to look up.

  Antonia’s arm thumped heavily around my shoulders as answered her. “Shit, you my people. For you—no charge. Just name the time and place.”

  Everyone at the table laughed and started making offers. Some were kidding while others were very serious. I could feel the tears threatening to come down, but I refused to cry. I stared at the food on my tray so hard I could see every grain in the dry-ass rye sandwich they served and I’d counted all twenty-two of my potato chips at least five times. The nervous tension I was feeling was taking its toll on me physically. My mouth dried to the point that I couldn’t swallow. I quietly popped in a piece of gum and prayed it would give me some relief.

  It was a torturous salvation when dinner ended. I managed to grab a few bits of fruit and some chips from my tray and put them in my pocket in case I got hungry later. I didn’t know when these women would make their trades with Antonia for my body but for the moment I was just happy not having to face them anymore.

  Back in our cell I lay on the bottom bunk intending to pray and meditate before the evening count.

  “Da fuck you getting all comfy for? I didn’t say you could lie down.” Antonia leaned up against the cell wall and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “What do you suggest I do?” I wasn’t sure if she’d take my question as me being a smart ass and I couldn’t hide the tremble in my voice.

  “I suggest you get ova’ here and show me what dat mouf do.” She sneered at me, pointing to the ground in front of her, or did she point at her crotch?

  My eyes widened in shock. I knew she couldn’t be saying what the hell I thought she was. Aeron had never made me perform oral sex on her so I had no idea how or what to do. Lord Jesus . . .

  “Um, I . . . I don’t know how, Antonia.” I stammered out my reply as I stared apprehensively down at the white tiles on the cell floor. I could feel the sweat beading on my upper lip and forehead from my nerves. Maybe she would lose interest if she knew I didn’t know what the hell to do. Maybe she’d give up and just leave me alone. I was wrong. I could hear the fabric slide in the silence of the cell as she pulled off her cotton pants and panties. I made the mistake of glancing for just a second and caught her standing spread-eagle up against the wall. Looooooord Jesus, if you’ve ever delivered anyone please deliver me. I prayed in earnest fervent silence. My lips moving quickly and silently.

  “Guess you ’bouta learn then. Bring ya ass ova’ here.”

  Never in a million years would I have ever pictured myself in this type of situation. If I said no she’d have probably beat me to death. If I did it, I didn’t have any idea how to do it right so she’d have probably gotten pissed off and still beat me to death. Reluctantly I got up off the cot and kneeled in front of her. I hadn’t made any kind of direct eye contact with her out of fear that I’d see a punch or a slap coming.

  “Okay. Now, eat dis pussy like it’s your last meal. You ain’t eat dinner so I know your ass hungry.” She grabbed me by the back of my head and pulled my face toward her.

  I made the mistake of letting my eyes focus on her privates and my immediate reaction was to pull away. My face balled up in disgust. Had this heffa never in her life heard of a razor or Nair? I stared in horror at the tangled mass of curly black hair. I couldn’t believe she seriously wanted me to put my mouth there.

  Her hand was painfully tight around the back of my neck as she guided my face closer and closer until I could feel the soft, thick curls tickling my nose and my chin. The praying began in my head even though it felt more like a monologue.

  Okay, I take every gay thought I’ve ever had back; forgive me, Father, because I can’t do this. I know this must be some kind of punishment or lesson because I was having thoughts about Aeron but this is just not right. I’m used to a penis, and I can’t imagine doing this to whoever whenever and especially not now. Why is it so hairy?

  Cringing, the only thing I could think to do was squeeze my ey
es shut and move my mouth in a Pac-Man motion. I was trying my best to not taste or get my tongue on anything. Antonia moaned and spread her legs farther apart at the contact of my mouth on her naked skin. I’d been trying to hold my breath and made the mistake of inhaling. I swear the scent of unwashed woman parts stung my nostrils, probably singed off every hair, and stained my upper lip. I felt a gag coming. Trying to hide my dry heaves as I fought for air made me lose all thoughts of the gum in my mouth and there was just so, so much hair. Before I knew it I’d actually managed to Pac-Man-style “nom nom nom” my gum all up into that mess. I stopped and leaned back in shock. Antonia looked down, trying to figure out what caused the interruption.

  “What the fuck?” She yelled down at the tangled mass of bright pink watermelon gum intertwined all up in her black curls. I silently giggled as a slow smug smile spread across my face.

  That’ll teach your ass to try to force-feed someone when you ain’t even got the sense to keep that mess tidy.

  I already knew the blow was coming before it made contact and the world went black. But at least it was worth it.

  Chapter 6

  She Popped My Cherry

  When I came to it was dark in the cell. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying unconscious on the floor. I also couldn’t believe they had done a count and didn’t notice I wasn’t outside my cell. Officer Blakely probably handled that, I was sure. I groaned; my head throbbed as I tried to sit up and timidly I glanced around for Antonia.

  “You thought that was real fuckin’ cute didn’t you?” she asked calmly from her perch up on the top bunk. She sat there and stared down at me with an unreadable expression. It was nerve-wracking not being able to tell if she was angry, or feeling vengeful.

  “It was an accident. I forgot about the gum. I’m sorry. I . . . I was nervous.” My voice was barely above a whisper. Talking just felt like it would make my head hurt worse. Talking could also get me hurt a lot worse if I irritated Antonia.

 

‹ Prev