by Nikki Rashan
“You gonna dance tonight, sweetheart?” someone screamed into my ear so loud and so close it made my eardrum hurt.
Yes. Thank you, another young person. I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked up at the young caramel-skinned girl with the nice smile standing beside me at the bar. She had on a Cleopatra wig that hung long down her back with bangs cropped just above her eyes. It gave her purple contact lenses a spellbinding look in contrast to the pitch black hair.
“Um yes. It’s a party; of course I’m gonna dance.” I leaned and yelled back into her ear just as loud as she’d yelled into mine.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” she replied, grinning like I’d answered the secret question before turning away from me to continue addressing the crowd. “Well then. Are y’all ready to get this party started or what?” Her voice boomed throughout the room.
Why is her voice amplified like that? When the hell did this heffa get a microphone?
But before I could figure out the answers to my questions my cup was snatched from my hand and I was hurled forward to follow her out into the mass of people she was parting like the sea. Five chairs were lined up across a wall and a blanket was spread across the middle of the floor. She spoke to the crowd like a queen commanding a court, and as she did so she slowly removed one item of clothing. The room went nuts and I looked around in sheer terror for my damn cousin.
“Okay, boys and ladies. Here, boo, hold my mic.” She was addressing me like I was her own personal little butler or something.
Shocked, I took the mic from her as all of her clothes fell off. Literally, I don’t know if this heffa had on a breakaway skirt and underwear set or what, but one minute she was clothed and the next she was completely buck-naked. Oh, what the hell am I supposed to do now?
Money flew through the air as she slowly oiled herself up, bending to do her ankles exposing her bare ass. Nervous, I could feel myself starting to sweat. When she sprayed something on her stomach and lit herself completely on fire I actually considered casually climbing down the fire escape. There was no way I could follow this up or do anything like this, and definitely not naked.
She finished and P. Gunna came out with a trash bag, pointing at me to help him collect her money and take it to the back. Charmaine walked past me on her way out to the front. She was beside a chocolate brown girl who had a curly black wig teetering on her head suspiciously, but it was as if Char didn’t even see me. The sound of the guys hooting and cheering let me know she was dancing.
Little Cleopatra wiped off the baby oil and put on fresh deodorant, getting ready for the lap dance set.
“Ma, you gonna go out there? The last set is just lap dances. They sit down and all you have to do is take their money.” She addressed me, not missing a beat as she oiled herself up again.
“I don’t know,” was all I could get out.
“Yo! You’ve got to come get your girl.” Percy burst back into the room looking between the two of us frantically.
“Get whose girl?” Cleopatra answered. She didn’t even stop what she was doing.
“Youuuuuurs. Pleeeeeease. Mmmmmm.” All the man came up out of Percy and that’s when I got worried. He was doing what could have passed for “the potty dance.” Or, it might have looked more like that “oh, there’s a spider” dance you do when you see one run across the floor and you try to sidestep it. His hands were in little fists at his sides, and he was jumping frantically from side to side. If I weren’t scared I might have laughed at his big behind prancing around like that.
“Go get your girl. Please, Lord, go help her,” he squeaked at me.
I rushed out into the front room and the lights were up, the music was surprisingly low, and everyone was standing by silently. Some people had looks of disgust, and others were grabbing their things and leaving; their heads were low, not making eye contact.
“It’s a fucking shame,” someone in the crowd said.
Prepared for the worst I pushed past people ready to meet death face to face yet again. What had happened? Had she been raped or stabbed? Pressing through the last few bystanders I finally saw what they saw. Charmaine was writhing around on the blanket; her eyes were closed and her head was thrown back. I gave her a quick once-over and didn’t see any cuts or bruises. My eyes darted back over the scene and that’s when I saw it. Some of the bills were covered in splotches of blood, stained from the crimson river that was running from in between her legs.
“Charmaine, get your ass up, girl!” Yelling and ashamed at dragging a grown woman out of her own menstrual fluids I yanked her arm.
It was as if she wasn’t even on the same planet with me. Her eyes opened and rolled in her head. She took my yanking as a cue to stand and dance. The entire room shouted “awww” in unison as blood droplets stained more of the money and the blanket . She stumbled and it dripped onto the carpeting.
“Yo. Nah. Nah. We paid good money up front, plus tips, and I want my shit back.” Someone was arguing with Little Cleopatra in the back.
She stormed toward me, her face distorting into an ugly frown when she saw all the blood. Chief and Tarique appeared in the doorway and they both looked as if they wanted to run right back out of it at the sight of all the blood. Chief wrapped Charmaine in a towel, scooped her up, and carried her outside. Cleopatra turned, giving me a dirty look.
“When her ass stop rollin’ tell her all her money paid me, because I had to pay the nigga back for cutting this short, plus everything her ass bled all over,” she growled at me.
“So she doesn’t get anything? It was an accident; she didn’t do it on purpose.”
She sneered before leaning down to pick up two bloody twenties, holding them like they were on fire before flinging them in my direction. I caught them. I’d walked through blood; the two splotches were nothing compared to that. Folding them with a heavy sigh, I turned and went to the Jeep waiting outside. Tarique opened my door and helped me inside.
“You okay, Char?” I asked her quietly.
She was leaning against the window looking half asleep. “Yeah, think I tore my stitches from the baby. That was some good ecstasy though; my ass ain’t feel shit. But Chief’s taking me to the hospital.”
“You’re more than welcome to chill with me so you aren’t alone, ma. They might keep her a day or so. Real talk, you don’t have to worry about anything.” Tarique’s voice was deep and raspy.
“Are you sure somebody won’t feel some kind of way about helping a nobody?”
“Stop playing, girl. Char is my people. You need me I got you. You need me?”
There was something in the way he spoke that made me believe he was sincere and honest. Should I go with him or go back to Char’s place? At least with him I wouldn’t be a lonely sitting target. I also couldn’t risk putting the little ones in danger if someone came after me.
With nowhere to go and no one else to call, I nodded okay to this new fork in the road of destiny, and I could have sworn I heard the devil laugh in the distance.
Chapter 4
Baby Wait. Baby W(e)ight?
My stomach had been in knots all morning. After finally getting sick of hearing Tarique’s mouth for four months straight I couldn’t take it anymore. None of the diets were working, I tried everything even not eating and I actually gained three pounds. Our friendship had skyrocketed into a non-stop flight to heaven if you’d let him tell it. Yet day by day I resisted the urge to ask him if he even knew where Heaven was, because we were always going through some kind of hell. He was angry all the time about every single thing and the fact that I was putting on weight didn’t help. When I talked about enrolling in school he had a fit, if I talked about working he spazzed out. When and how he became this obsessive controlling dictator over my life I wasn’t sure.
Balancing myself on the edge of the tub in our tiny bathroom I scrunched my nose in disgust. No matter how many times I scrubbed the floor it always smelled pissy in here. Like that boy just came in and aimed at the walls
and ceiling or something. I stared at the little white test teetering on the sink ledge and prayed for a negative symbol in the little window. The only thing I was sure of was that I hadn’t had a period in a while and couldn’t remember how far back. Combine that with the fact that Tarique refused to wear condoms and he refused to pull out and we had ourselves a situation. I imagine chipper white women that be all in love, and love the thought of having babies made pregnancy tests. Because when that positive symbol popped up . . . I couldn’t think of one positive reaction.
When Tarique got home I was a wreck from rehearsing what I’d say to him. He’d gotten mad on a couple of occasions and put his hands on me so I was hoping that the news would make him happy. Maybe just maybe, if we had a baby he’d treat me a little better, buy me some nice things. Maybe he’d think sometimes before he’d get so angry that he’d just let his fists speak for him. At least I knew that I wasn’t some kind of physical anomaly and despite working out and watching what I ate this wasn’t completely my fault.
“Why you standin’ over there lookin’ crazy as hell girl?” Tarique had walked in and sat down on the couch. I was so nervous I didn’t realize I was motionless standing off to the side, out of striking distance.
“Oh, no reason. I um, was thinking about what we’d do for dinner I guess.”
“I’m goin’ out after I take a nap. You can do whatever.” He flicked the TV on dismissing me and I fumed.
“Why don’t I ever get to go anywhere, you leave me here day and night and I feel like I’m losing my mind. It’s not fair Tarique.” I all but cried as he just stared at the television ignoring me.
“I ain’t got time for this, women would kill for someone to take care of they asses and you sit up here complainin’.” He tossed down the remote in disgust stormed down the hallway.
A small mouse ran across my foot and I jumped as it scurried along the wall and seemed to disappear into a darkened corner. I crept over intent on catching it and knelt down examining the space. One minute it was there and in the next minute my forehead connected with the wall with so much force I’d have sworn my skull cracked.
“What the fuck is this? You pregnant! Really? Who’s been up in here?” Tarique tossed the pregnancy test down onto the floor beside me. There was so much shock and pain still trying to register in my brain that I couldn’t speak. Of all the things for him to think, when or how the hell would I have time to bring someone in his place, when he watched me like a hawk never letting me leave? The words were almost clear enough for me to say when I was yanked roughly to my feet.
“I don’t believe this shit, I opened up my heart and my home to you and you do this?”
There was so much rage and hatred in his face it was a reaction I’d have never expected from him.
“Nobody’s been in here. I swear on my life Tarique it’s only been you, I’ve only been with you.”
He wasn’t hearing me through his anger and somewhere between the living room and the kitchen he decided to throw me out. Literally. There was a haze of yellow from the buzzing lights in the hallway as he opened the door letting in the crisp cold air. I remember seeing them briefly before every bone in my body was introduced to the concrete stairs one by one, and the world went black. I vaguely remember lying at the bottom of the steps in the apartment’s cold moldy smelling corridor trying to figure out if I was already dead or dying.
My mouth was dry, I wanted water and it felt like the weight of a million sand bags were on top of my body. I tried opening my eyes and groaned as pain shot through my head.
”Don’t move or you’ll hurt yourself.”
I froze inwardly cringing at the sound of Tarique’s voice. I’d have given anything to slip back into whatever darkness I’d just drifted out of. At least I had some kind of peace while I was there. My eyes felt gritty and I blinked a few times trying to focus. He was lying on the bed beside me, a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels was in his lap.
“Can’t do more damage than you already did.” My voice was a dry croak through my parched lips.
“Doctor got you on some strong shit, he a friend of mine, stopped by to see you a few days ago. Said you might see and say crazy things,” he hesitated clearing his throat nervously, “you know after losing the baby and all but you’ll be fine.” He picked up a cup from the side of the bed and put a straw to my lips before I could respond or react. Ice water never tasted so damn good, I almost choked as it felt like I hadn’t had water in years.
“I can’t make babies.” Tarique said it so quietly, and in such a way that I actually did choke at that point. He sat the cup down and took a long swig from the bottle in his lap.
“My Pops was probably one of the biggest assholes in the world. He had this saying that there could only be one man in his house and that was him. I had to have been like sixteen and I’d been talkin’ to this girl for a minute. One night I decided to bring her to the crib, I was tired of sneakin’ around and Pop was on a drinking binge somewhere. Shit, the nigga came home caught me balls deep gettin’ some ass under his roof and he went off. Beat me with a crowbar. Told me I wasn’t a man and I ain’t have his permission to use my dick.” Tarique paused his eyes had a faraway look to them and I sat there in dumb founded numbed shock.
“He hit me so many times I had to have all these special surgeries an’ shit. I been sterile ever since.”
There aren’t too many words you can say to someone that throws you down stairs because you’re pregnant and they can’t have kids. I still want to kill you crossed my mind. We could have talked about this, was another good one. Instead I ignored all of the pain that was flooding my heart and I blocked out the physical torture of the pain killers gradually wearing off.
“I was already pregnant Tarique, the day I ran away was the first time I’d ever done anything. I just didn’t know it, we could have had a family.” As hard as I tried to fight the tears I couldn’t and I cried mourning the loss of so many things in such a small amount of time.
Chapter 5
When There’s Nothing Left, Go Right (10 Years Later)
The sun climbed high overhead, driving it’s unrelenting rays down directly into my forehead. Shielding my eyes with my hand I looked up and couldn’t find a single cloud in the crystal blue sky. Placing my hat on I marched across the field, dead brown grass snapping beneath the heel of my stuffy, hot, black shoes. The scent of unbrushed teeth and too many cups of coffee filled my nostrils as I neared everyone else.
“Okay, Virginia Beach’s finest. We have a hostage situation. Troughman, Taylor, and Cordello?” McKinley’s coffee-tinged breath seemed to linger in the air.
“Sir,” we called out in unison to Officer McKinley, the senior officer in charge of the situation. He’d gathered our team in a clearing a few yards from the one-story ranch-style brick house. The yard was a minefield of tires, car parts, and trash collected from various curbside heaps and refuse bins.
Pete Shaw, a middle-aged white male, came home and found his wife, Tabitha, and her lover, Abram Emerit, packing. She was leaving him and taking their four-year-old and two-month-old boys with her. Neighbors called the police when they heard multiple gunshots, saying he’d killed her lover. Pete had a history of psychological issues as well as anger management problems and upon our arrival he refused to let anyone in or out of the house.
“Mr. Shaw has agreed to have another phone call with me in ten minutes. Alicia, the side bathroom has a window we think you can fit through,” McKinley ordered.
“Ha-ha. Not the way she’s been putting away Oreos and Snickers,” Lorenzo blurted out.
No one laughed at Lorenzo Cordello’s joke. McKinley cut him an angry glance before going on. “I’ll get him on the line and talking so we can get the window off. You get inside. Try to get a read on the situation and where the kids are. If you get the chance deadly force is highly permissible. Take. Him. Out.” His voice was curt and stern. There was no breeze to relieve us, so I could physically feel the impact of
his words.
“Yes, sir,” I replied quickly, nodding my understanding.
My palms immediately began sweating. There were a million and one things that could go wrong and only one way that this could go right. Those were not good odds to bet with.
“All jokes aside, I got you covered, Al. Nothing will happen to you, I swear.” Lorenzo’s voice was a low murmur. I tried to smile, but couldn’t as Lorenzo patted me on the shoulder, his hand lingering a second before handing me a heavy bulletproof vest. Its weight and my nerves only intensified the heat outside.
“Get in position. We’re calling him now.” McKinley’s voice echoed in my earpiece and I was thankful he wasn’t within breathing range.
Maneuvering through the dry soil of the yard was like walking through some sort of post-apocalyptic battlefield. A pale white doll head stared eerily up at me through its one remaining eye. Two boys, why would they have dolls?
Kicking it so it’d face another direction, I maneuvered around anything that might make a sound. I leaned against the side of the house and prayed silently while Lorenzo cut through the screen and pried the window up. We listened and could hear Pete inside on the phone. Lorenzo locked eyes with me and nodded before hoisting me up and into the window.
Sliding soundlessly onto the dirty green tile I quickly got to my feet, crouching and drawing my pistol. My breathing was so erratic I was afraid he’d hear it.
“Mommy. Mommy. I have to pee-pee,” a child whined from in the living room.
Shit! Now, kid, really? Adrenaline was coursing through my veins so fast it’s a wonder I didn’t faint. If she brings the boy to the bathroom, maybe I can get them out the window. Think, woman. Think. Seconds matter. Milliseconds matter.