Project Queen

by Teresa D. Patterson

  He figured selling drugs wasn’t all that hard to do and the money was practically instant, so he dropped out of school to become a full time dealer. He wasn’t worried about getting caught. Everybody he knew sold drugs and they never got caught. Even if he did get arrested, he’d receive a slap on the wrist. He could handle it.

  He was rolling in the Benjamins, but he couldn’t spend it freely or his mama would find out. And he’d be damned if he’d give it away. He spent a little here and there on girls, but knew all about gold digging tricks. They had their palms out so often they resembled collection plates. They desired fancy hairdos, expensive jewelry, and new clothes. They wanted some dumb ass busta who would pay their light bill or go half on the rent. A trick would settle for whatever she could get, but he wasn’t a paymaster.

  He’d never fall for their lame lines even though they threw themselves at him constantly. They shook their tits and jiggled their ass, encouraging him to touch them. Some had even gone so far as to show him their nookie – twirking it all up in his face, like that was going to change his mind. But, he wasn’t ready for sex. He knew that he was handsome and had a nice physique at fourteen. Some grown women even lusted after him. He just wasn’t ready to go that route. He felt that sex was overrated anyway, and he could wait.

  Toby smiled wickedly as he thought about the women who’d tried to seduce him. He wouldn’t go all the way, but he would let them give him a little slow smoking head, though. Even then, he made sure to use a condom. He wasn’t about to catch anything from some nasty skank. Besides, he heard about how some women would suck a nigga dry but not swallow the semen. They’d go into the bathroom and use a turkey baster to insert the sperm into them in an effort to trap a nigga. He’d be damned if anyone would be able to walk around saying he was their baby’s daddy. Being a teenaged father was the last thing he needed or wanted. When the time came, he knew how to protect himself. He had a top dresser drawer filled with Trojan condoms, just in case.

  When Mrs. Byrts returned, Shae had taken the last basket of clothes out of the dryer. She’d cleaned the twins’ room and remade the beds with fresh sheets and pillowcases. She’d vacuumed all the rooms and the hallway upstairs and had mopped the kitchen floor. The two bathrooms had been scrubbed clean: no ring around the tub, toothpaste or hair in the sink, and no smudges on the mirror. Shae made sure not to leave even a streak on the shower door. Something like that would cause Mrs. Byrts to flip out and have her redo everything.

  Shae remembered one time when Toby didn’t take out the garbage after he’d been told. Mrs. Byrts came home, saw the overflowing garbage can and became enraged. She picked up the garbage pail and dumped its contents on a sleeping Toby. After a few times of being awakened to the smell of funk, Toby learned to take the garbage out without being told.

  Toby cleaned out the refrigerator because he knew how their mama could get. He felt kind of bad for his sister because she had to work like a slave. Cleaning the refrigerator was the least he could do.

  Ma Violet washed, dried, and put the dishes away. The entire apartment was in order, but Mrs. Byts still frowned after gazing around. You would think she’d be happy, but she wasn’t. Nothing ever seemed to please the woman. She complained about the living room not being vacuumed. Shae just rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her arms? As big as she was, she could easily pull a vacuum cleaner across the floor faster than Shae could do it.

  “Toby, carry them groceries inside,” she ordered. Toby, not up for a confrontation, complied. When he placed the last bag on the table, he turned toward his mama. He could tell she wasn’t in a good mood, which was nothing new. She was ticking like a time bomb, and he wouldn’t wait around for the explosion. Besides, he had things to do. He wasn’t about to sit in the house like a prisoner of war and listen to his bitter mama’s complaints. That was out. He didn’t understand how his sister put up with it. In a few minutes, he would be missing in action, in places that even his mama wouldn’t go.

  Mrs. Byrts entered the kitchen as he flew by her in a flash and said, “Mama, I’m going to Doug’s house.” The front door closed behind him before she could respond.

  “He must have a girlfriend he tryin’ to get to, high tailin’ it outta here like that,” Ma Violet mused, chuckling.

  “As long as he don’t make no babies, he can have all the girlfriends he want,” Mrs. Byrts said. “Shae put these groceries away. My back is hurting.”

  Shae frowned. Toby always did whatever he wanted and she got stuck with all the work. Pretty soon the twins would be home from school. She’d have to help them with their homework then cook dinner because her mother refused to cook for “over-grown ass children.” That meant she’d have more dishes to wash. Plus, she’d have to bathe her younger siblings and get them ready for bed.

  Shae felt the anger building inside her, but choked it down. It wasn’t the twins’ fault that they had a fat, lazy ass mama. Maybe if Mrs. Byrts would get off the couch and do something…

  After putting away the groceries, Shae went to her room. She couldn’t stand it when her mama was home. She hogged the television in the living room, watching talk shows and The Young & the Restless. Shae hated soap operas and liked to watch B.E.T. all day. If she did happen to watch anything else, it had to be interesting. Most TV shows bored the hell out of her. In her opinion, none of them bordered on reality not even the reality television shows like The Real World. The projects, now that was real.

  Shae wanted to go to her cousin’s house, but knew that was out of the question. If her mama was home, she couldn’t go anywhere. Even though she was eighteen, her mama treated her like a baby. The only times she got to go anywhere was when her mama went to work or out drinking. She kept wishing Mrs. Byrts would leave, but every time she went downstairs to check, she found her mama still parked on the couch.

  She didn’t dare ask permission to go over to Tashae’s. If she did, then her mama would start ranting and raving, calling her all types of names like tramp, streetwalker, or ho. Mrs. Byrts constantly accused Shae of being a slut and compared her to Vivian. Vivian had gotten pregnant at age fifteen. Shae hadn’t even had sex yet. But to let her mama tell it, she was the biggest ho in Jordan Park, in all of St. Petersburg.

  Bored with staring at four walls Shae went outside to sit on the front porch. She watched the older students walking from their bus stops. It made her think about high school and what she was missing out on. Had she not quit, she’d be a senior. She’d probably be excited, looking forward to Grad Night, the prom and graduation. But, she’d been robbed of those memories because she dropped out in the tenth grade.

  Her mother didn’t even care that she stopped going to school. Since Shae would be home all day, she’d been ordered to take care of the twins. She’d done that until they got old enough to attend pre-school.

  Now, she stared at the teenagers with envy. They all looked so happy and carefree. Some of the girls stood in short skirts with their legs shiny from lotion, gazing at the boys who stood a few feet away. The boys with zigzag braids or low cut fades talked animatedly about their latest CDs or video games. A few lagged behind, smoking. She wondered if any of them had to take care of their younger siblings every day. Did their mamas get drunk, cuss them out and beat them all the time?

  Another large, yellow bus pulled to a noisy stop and more students shuffled off. Shae saw curious faces pressed up against the windows gazing at her. When the bus drove off, she felt a deep sadness and sighed. Maybe one day she’d be able to go back to school or get a GED. She knew she had to do something.

  “Shae,” her mama called through the screen door.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Bring ya ass in here and help ya grandma to the bathroom.”

  Shae gritted her teeth. Why did she have to help? She didn’t understand why Mrs. Byrts couldn’t do it herself. Her mother was the certified nursing assistant and worked as a home health aide. She just shook her head, got up and went inside to do her mother’s bidding.<
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  At a quarter after three the door burst open and in ran the twins. They immediately began to demand things until Shae stopped them with a glare.

  “Charles and Chris, go upstairs, get out of ya school clothes, then come on back down and watch cartoons until I get dinner ready,” she instructed. They knew better than to disobey her because she would grab a belt and wear their behinds out. They could sense her anger and thought they caused it because of the soiled sheets. They went up the stairs quietly. Five minutes later, they trudged back down with freshly scrubbed hands and faces. She hadn’t had to tell them to do it.

  They didn’t dare argue over which cartoons to watch as they usually did. The boys knew from experience that the slightest thing could set their sister’s temper off. Neither of them wanted to feel the sting of the belt. But, they’d rather get a spanking from Shae than from their mother on any given day.

  Shae noticed Charles take a sideways glance at their mother who sat on the couch. He didn’t want to chance making her angry. Most of the time, she just ignored them unless they did something she felt warranted a beating. Then, she’d attack them viciously with whatever she could lay her hands on. At times like that, Shae would intervene and usually ended up taking the brunt of the beating. She couldn’t stand to watch her mother punish the twins because the woman had no mercy.

  Thankfully, nothing happened to unleash her fury. That day, she seemed almost happy. She’d even bought some powdered donuts that she gave to Ma Violet and the twins. From the kitchen, Shae glared at her in resentment. She really couldn’t stand the woman.

  Once she’d prepared dinner, Shae called the twins to the table. They sat down, said Grace, and began to eat. She had fried some chicken wings, cooked rice and heated up some canned corn. Charles and Chris loved chicken, so they didn’t complain. Truthfully, they were good boys and rarely complained about anything. Shae didn’t understand why their mother treated them like redheaded stepchildren.

  “Mama, can I go to the store?” she finally asked, needing to get out and stretch her legs.

  “Go ‘head,” Mrs. Byrts grunted.

  “Don’t let them brats go in my room,” she said.

  “If they go in there, that’s they damn business,” she replied. “Should lock ya do’” Mrs. Byrts replied.

  “What I gotta lock it for? They should just stay out. It won’t stay locked anyway. All they have to do is shake on it and it’ll pop open.”

  “What you got in there that’s so important?” Ma Violet tooted. Shae didn’t bother to answer her.

  “Jus’ go to the store and stop nagging,” Mrs. Byrts snapped. “If they go in ya room, beat they asses. Shit. Just leave me the fuck alone about it. Ok?”

  Shae sighed. She’d grown tired of being the one to discipline the twins. They weren’t her children. It seemed like her mother had forgotten that fact. She loved her brothers and didn’t want to hurt one of them. It could happen. Each day it got harder to cope with all of the pressure, not to mention her mother’s attitude. She got yelled at and cursed out constantly as well as belittled on a daily basis.

  Shae could understand why Vivian left when she turned sixteen. She wondered where Vivian had gone and felt a sudden sadness. Vivian had run off and freed herself, and she was still left behind in hell.

  “Thought you said you was going to the store?” Her mom’s voice cut into her thoughts.

  “I am,” she snapped. Vivian is lucky she got away she thought as she squinted at her mother, feeling something close to hatred burn in her chest.

  “Bring me back one of them pickled, pig feet and a two liter bottle of Pepsi. Get some instant oatmeal for ya grandma’s breakfast,” the woman demanded. “And get another box of powdered donuts, too. This one ‘bout empty.”

  “Didn’t you just go grocery shopping?”

  “And?”

  “Don’t seem like it,” she said. Shae sucked air between her teeth.

  “You must not want to leave this house,” Mrs. Byrts threatened, eyes narrowing. “Get what I told you to get.”

  “Okay.” Shae hurried out the door, grumbling under her breath. She couldn’t wait to get out of there so she could breathe.

  Once outside, she could immediately feel the men’s eyes bore into her and it boosted her ego. She might be nothing in her mother’s eyes, but out in the streets, she could be anyone she wanted. She felt beautiful and desirable. She felt like a queen.

  “Hey, Shae, wait up.” She turned when someone called her and saw Larry Walker. Shae felt apprehensive, but Larry just smiled when he approached her. She knew that if he was upset about her taking his money last night, he wouldn’t be cheesing in her face now.

  “What’s up?” he greeted. “Girl, you sure look good. Good enough to eat.” He laughed. Larry had a medium complexion. He was well built for a guy of eighteen. He fell in-between cute and handsome because of a birthmark that covered a great portion of the left side of his face. It was much lighter than the rest of his skin and it stood out. He had beautiful, soul-searching brown eyes.

  “What’s up Larry?” she asked. For some reason, she always felt happy when she saw him. She couldn’t remember a day since she’d met him in the second grade that he hadn’t been around.

  “Not much. I was heading to the store. Seem like you headed in the same direction. Mind if a nigga like me tag along?”

  “Larry, you know I don’t mind.”

  “Just making sure. I mean, you all beautiful and shit. I don’t want none of this ugliness to rub off on ya.”

  “Larry, you know I don’t like hearing you talk like that. Stop putting yourself down.”

  Larry threw her a surprised look. He’d never heard her speak like that before. In the past when he made negative comments about his looks, she’d add to it. He’d expected her to say something like, “You ain’t ugly, but that spot covering half ya face is.” Momentarily speechless, he just looked at Shae.

  “You ok?” he asked, finally finding his voice.

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem different or something.”

  “Nah. I’m ok,” she assured. “I just had an argument with my mama again. She gets on my fucking nerves.”

  “Oh?” Larry fell silent. Once again, Shae had shocked him. He’d never heard her talk negatively about her family. Until that moment, he’d thought everything was perfect.

  “I can’t wait to get out of here,” she went on. “These damn projects make my ass itch.”

  “I know what you mean. I have an opportunity to break free and I’m gonna take it.”

  “You don’t live in the projects,” she reminded.

  “I might as well,” he said bitterly. He lived directly across the street from them. He associated with project folk most of his life. All of his friends lived there. He considered himself just as hood and ghetto as the next nigga from the projects.

  “What you gonna do, start selling drugs?” The question came out like an accusation. She stopped walking and glared at him, waiting for his response.

  “Hell no, girl. I ain’t with that shit. That’ll fuck a nigga’s life up. Besides, after what happened to my mama–” His voice trailed off and he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. “Hell no,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I’m getting out the clean way. I’m going to college, to the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I just found out today that I got a full art scholarship.” He looked down at his feet as if embarrassed to share the information.

  “That shit is tight, Larry,” she congratulated. “I’m happy for you.” They continued to walk.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled graciously. He hadn’t told anyone else. He’d wanted to share the news with Shae first. That’s why he’d been heading to her place when he ran into her.

  “At least you ain’t wasting ya talents. I wish I was smart like you or could draw or something,” she said.

  “You got a talent, Shae. You just don’t know what it is yet- and it ain’t sex,” he said.<
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  “I know that. I just can’t do anything. School bored the hell out of me. That’s why I quit.” Larry didn’t bother asking her to elaborate. They had walked to the bus stop together every morning since second grade. During their tenth grade year, she’d started acting different, missing days, looking tired, dragging. Suddenly, one day, Shae stopped coming altogether. After about a week, he stopped by her place to find out if something had happened to her. She informed him that she wasn’t going back to school. When he questioned her at the time, she damn near cursed him out. He left it alone then, just as he was going to do now.

  “What do you like doing?” he asked, instead.

  She sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. For some reason, I just like counting money. I know it sounds silly, but I picture myself working at a bank and counting money. It’s stupid. I don’t even have a high school diploma. I ain’t gonna be working at nobody’s bank anytime soon,” she said.

  “No, it’s not stupid,” he told her. “It’s a vision and visions ain’t stupid. My aunt says that we should write down our visions and they’ll come into being,” he told her. “Whatever you set ya mind to, you can do it. You are too damn pretty and smart to just waste away in a place like the projects.”

  They reached the store, which had been converted from an old gas station. Men sat around a rickety card table playing Spades, smoking cigars, drinking Colt 45 and Budweiser. Others stood around watching the game. They all stopped momentarily to stare lustfully at Shae when she approached.

  “Hot damn. Tenderoni,” one man yelled. “Will you be my wife?” Everybody laughed and hooted. Larry didn’t find it amusing at all. He ushered Shae into the store.

  “Man, is that you?” a teenager heading out asked him as he surveyed Shae with appreciation. “Girl, is ya husband married?” he whispered to Shae.

  “Man, what the fuck you looking at?” Larry challenged. “Yeah, she my lady.”