by Tiana Laveen
“We all have a past, Pam. But if we keep beating ourselves up about that, then we can’t enjoy our future. I also don’t expect you to be like my wife. She was her, and you are you.”
“Yeah. That’s true I suppose, but uh, see, there’s just something you should know … so you can make an informed decision about me, I guess you could say. We was sittin’ here talking about people being fake a while ago. I have never been fake, but I have to admit to you, I like you so much, love talkin’ to you on the phone, hangin’ out with you, that I have hesitated on answering you truthfully when you ask me about my life. I’ve been beatin’ around the bush. You ask me so many questions, and what do I do when I don’t want to answer?” She smiled sadly. “I make a joke … try to dodge it.”
“You don’t have to hide anything from me, Pam. I am in no position to be your judge.” After reflecting on his words for a second or two, she nodded. “Here you go.”
The man handed her a tissue and she dabbed at her eyes.
After clearing her throat, she tried to keep her lower lip from trembling.
“I don’t cry easily. Xenia will tell you. I am not that sort of woman. I come from a long line of tough people, but I’m human … you know, and uh…” She swallowed. “Sometimes things happen. See, when I was younger, much younger, I was mostly raised by my grandmother ’cause my mother had some problems. We were in a rough part of L.A. and my father wasn’t in my life. I was out here in the world—lost, tryna find myself. It didn’t take long before I got in trouble, ran with the wrong crowd. You see, I grew up in the days with the O.G.’s of Piru, when they were young and fresh.”
“Piru?”
“That’s where the Blood gang all started, Gaspar. You’re familiar with that, right? I mean, you lived in L.A.; you had to have been.”
“Yes, I was familiar with that and as a younger man I avoided some areas of town due to a lot of gang activity.”
“Right, it was dangerous for the people that lived there, let alone outsiders. Anyway, Piru is the original of the Blood gang, the mother and father, if you will.” He nodded in understanding. “All I really wanted was a family … that’s all I wanted, Gaspar. Someone to love me and for me to love ’em back. I found that in the wrong way. I joined a gang … the Bloods. Things were different back then. Nowadays, a lot of the girls have sex to get in with the homies, but back then, no.” She shook her head. “We either got jumped in or you got some other sort of initiation. If you had family in it, then they’d go easier on you. I was one of the members from the early days. I’m considered an O.G. I’m still a Blood, Gaspar. I left, but once you are in it, you’re in it.”
The man said nothing, but she could see his expression change. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she’d already began her confessions. There was no turning back now.
“Go on,” he encouraged with a faint smile. He placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her comfort. “I’m listening.”
“So, uh, I was involved in that for a long while. I met my ex-husband that way. He was a pretty high-ranking member and I was cute back then so I got a lot of attention.” She laughed lightly, then rubbed away another falling tear.
“You’re still cute, very much so.”
“Thank you… So, anyway, he was a good catch, or so I thought. He had money, he was dealin’ drugs, a lot of girls liked him. He didn’t have any children … basically an eligible bachelor who took a liking to me. We started sellin’ drugs together, making a lot of money. I never had any money before that. I would barely know where my next meal would come from, let alone see hundreds of dollars rollin’ in every single day. See, crack hit, right? And we were really getting paid. I was good at it. I stayed strapped, didn’t take no shit. I’ve shot people.” She sniffed, fighting back tears. “I’ve stolen cars, robbed people. I’ve set guys up to have them get robbed by my homies.
“I have a lot of bad shit in my closet, shameful thangs, stuff that, if my kids or grandchildren did the same, I’d just wanna roll over and die. I wasn’t a bad person, but I was doin’ so many bad things… so maybe that does make me a bad person after all.” They both drew quiet for a spell. “Anyway, me and my ex, well, we hit it off. We were exclusive after a while but as time went on, we had an unplanned pregnancy—my twins, Porsche and Xenia. The same week I found out I was pregnant, Gaspar, was the same week I lost my best friend. She’d been killed by a member of the Crips. The week before that, my cousin got shot and was fightin’ for his life. See, a lot of my family were Bloods, so this was pretty much all I knew.
“But uh … something about when I went to the doctor and that old White man looked at me and said, ‘Little girl, you’re pregnant,’ shook me. I was in shock, scared a little, but happy, too… like somehow, someway, my girls saved my life. I stopped drinkin’. I didn’t smoke much back then so that wasn’t no issue, but I tried to do right. I went to all of my doctor appointments, Gaspar, and when I tell you I almost peed myself when that doctor said I was havin’ twins, that was all she wrote!” She giggled.
“You were excited?”
“Yes … very much so. Now, back then, you couldn’t find out what you were havin’ like you can now. They knew I was havin’ twins because of the heartbeats, but other than that,” she said, “it was a guessing game. I told my husband that I ain’t wanna gang bang no more, that these kids deserved better than that. What if I had them and ended up dead soon thereafter or caught a case and ended up givin’ birth in jail? Who’d take care of my babies? So, I started to distance myself. He wasn’t none too happy about that, especially when I started pressuring him to do the same. I didn’t allow him to smoke that shit around me and told him I didn’t want him sellin’ that shit out of our house anymore.
“All kinds of dope fiends and dangerous people would show up at all hours of the day; something could have popped off, and I didn’t want to take any chances. I enrolled in beauty school, got myself together. He had control over the finances, and wouldn’t help me, so I worked at a grocery store and as a waitress to pay for my education. I was determined, Gaspar. More determined than I’d ever been. I had always had a knack for doing people’s hair. I liked make up and things like that, so I knew that was what I should do and it was a blessing, too.”
“It was a gift from God, Pam. Your ticket out.”
“Yes, that’s right. The reason why I cried though, when we saw that couple, is the fact there’s something Xenia, Porsche, and Ira don’t know about me and their father’s time together. They knew he could be verbally abusive, that he put his hands on me a couple of times, but what they don’t know is … what they don’t know…” Her eyes watered once again and she just wanted to scream as the old scars and tender wounds became exposed! Warm, strong arms wrapped around her, bringing her in close. He ran his hand up and down her back, giving comfort to her broken soul.
“It’s all right, Pam. You’re safe with me.”
“What they don’t know is that one time, when I was pregnant with Ira, he put his hands on me so bad, I almost miscarried! It was the scariest thing in my life! He beat me so bad, Gaspar! He’d come home drunk and high, after having been with some other woman. We got into it and he…” She raised a hand in a slapping motion, as if she were about to backhand Gaspar, her lower lip trembling. “He raised his hand up just like this! And he hit me so hard, I flew across the room like a damn Frisbee!” She sobbed. Gaspar ran a gentle hand down her face, wiping the tears away. “I blacked out a time or two, and he was still hittin’ me! He kicked my stomach!” Gaspar’s mouth dropped open in horror. “The pain … I’ll never forget that pain! I just knew I was going to lose my baby boy. I’d had a dream it was a boy, named him in advance and everything. Fortunately, our neighbor heard all the commotion, me pleadin’ for help, and called the police. I thanked God my little girls weren’t home. They were with my sister and her kids that night for a sleepover. I waited for the police forever… I was bleedin’, and he was still standing around screamin’ and hollerin�
��. Nobody wanted to come around there, Gaspar. Half the neighborhood was scared of my ex. He had a lot of clout back then. The police came and took me to the hospital.”
“I … I am astounded, Pam. I know that it ended okay because your son just got out of the Marines after six deployments, but I could not imagine how afraid you must’ve been during that time.”
“It was awful. I wasn’t ’fraid of him, and that made him even madder. I was afraid of losing my child. That’s all I cared about, and it hurt his ego, I suppose. He even told me as he was raging that night about the fact I cared more about the kids than him. What kinda man gets jealous of his own children? What kinda man is mad that the mother of his children loves them so deeply? At the hospital I got checked out, stayed a couple nights. He came after he got outta jail, tellin’ me he didn’t remember a bit of it, but he was sorry. He had a ring for me, a bigger diamond than my wedding ring and some flowers. He’d do that sometimes, get so drunk and high off his ass, snortin’ cocaine and PCP, that he may not have remembered.” She shrugged.
“I don’t know … but I couldn’t take it no more. My children know that I left their father many times because he wouldn’t straighten up, but they don’t know about this situation at all. So, you see, when I saw that pregnant girl being done like that, it all flooded back. What killed me in my soul though, Gaspar, was that after you saved ’er, that girl ran on back to the son of a bitch. That man ain’t nothin’ but the Devil. I was her at one point in time… I could see me in her frightened eyes. That was me runnin’ back, thinking he would change, believing his lies that he was going to do right. You see, I loved him more than any man before or after, so it really got me, you know? It crushed me to see that girl’s self-esteem was so low, like mine was when I was her age. It’s so low, Gasper, that he can toss her around like a ball, put their baby in jeopardy, and she still come runnin’ back like a loyal dog. In the end, ironic as it is, my ex-husband left us. He abandoned the family, but it was because of me.” She pointed at herself.
“Because of you?”
“I was sick of him. I wasn’t sleepin’ with him no more, and I started fighting back. He hit me, I’d hit his ass back. I told him if he ever laid his hands on me again, I’d shoot him dead in the head, and I meant it. I was a good shot and he knew it. By the time I was standing over him with a gun while he slept off a hangover one morning, I knew I was officially done. He wasn’t worth me goin’ to prison for. I wanted my children to have a two-parent home—the thing I wanted as a child but never had. But what was I teachin’ my babies by staying in this dysfunction? My heart just wasn’t in it anymore.”
Gaspar clasped his hands around hers and gave a gentle squeeze. Her heart filled with something new and unexplainable as she noticed his eyes water.
“My mother is a domestic violence survivor,” he choked out. “My grandfather back in Portugal, he, too, would hit her and her sisters … and her mother, as well. The tales she told me haunt me to this day. I can’t imagine a man who loves his family will hurt them in such a way. No one is perfect, but what you describe, well, this is inexcusable.”
“It’s like some sorta curse—generational, you know? I raised my girls to never let no man beat on them. I told my son he’d bet not ever put his hands on some lady and I get wind of it. If things get that heated, he should just leave. That’s exactly what I told him.”
“My wife and I raised our own son the same way.”
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, Gaspar. I hate that I’ve told you this, but you needed to know the truth. If you look up my criminal record, you’ll see some of the charges from way back then, and I don’t want there to be no surprises. I can only name two people who know what happened to me, and I hate this, ’cause even though you had the right to know, we’re tryna get to know one another and then I put this heavy load on your shoulders. Something don’t seem quite right about that. I didn’t mean for this to happen this way though, I guess I got triggered as they say.” Pam sniffed, slid her hands away and blew her nose with the tissue.
“If I can only know the parts of you that shine like gold, then I don’t really know you, now do I?” He tipped her chin with his fingers, and landed a soft, yet needy, kiss.
The velvety feel of his lips against hers made her stomach jump, like a teenager falling in love. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she drew him closer until she heard his stomach, too … a rumbling, growling sound that sparked mutual guffaws.
“I guess your gut has the last word. Let’s get on the road to this burger joint you’ve been bragging about and order us some beers to chase these blues away.” She grinned as she stuffed the half-used tissue into her purse.
“We’re already here.” The man pointed to the building just up ahead.
“Well, all right! Perfect timing.” She reached for the car handle and was immediately chastised.
“No, no! I’ve told you many times—you stay right there. You’re in the presence of a gentleman.” He kissed her forehead before opening the car door, popping out, and greeting her on the other side. Taking her by the arm, he led her out onto the sidewalk. After closing her door and locking it, he took her hand in his.
“I am with a gentleman now, aren’t I?” She paused in her steps, regarding the fine specimen with a mixture of lust and admiration.
“You definitely are … and you are a Queen, Pam. You are royalty, and you may have been in Piru and received accolades while in the streets, but you are not that person anymore.”
She smiled sadly. “I know.”
“It isn’t a beautiful past, but it helped make you the beautiful person that you are right now. You’re a wise, funny, caring woman who changed her life around and is now courting an official Rainbeau. You were open-minded enough to give me a try—that shows growth within itself. Thank you for telling me the truth, but it doesn’t change how much I enjoy you and want to be around you. I’m a King, sweetheart, and I adore you…”
“You shoulda been done introduced me to him, Saint. I can’t believe you’ve known Bomb all this time and never told me.” The skinny guy strutted in front of them.
“I had no idea that someone your age would even know who he was.” Saint, Raphael, and Angel drew closer to the gym where Bomb taught boxing and had a small apartment.
“You two seemed mismatched.” Angel paused and turned to face him. “I didn’t know you were cool with Bomb, and everybody who follows boxing ’round here knows who he is.”
“To me, he is my big brother and protector when I needed it. He is my friend, so anything else beyond that is secondary,” Saint explained.
“Saint, you don’t understand! He’s a star, man! He’s the go-to guy for training now, you see? He’s a street boxer, man, like Mike Tyson—the Puerto Rican version.”
“Miguel Tyson?” Raphael joked. He and Saint cracked up and elbowed one another.
“It’s funny, right?” Angel snapped, his anger no more than added humor fuel for Saint. “You knew I liked to box. How could you keep this under wraps?”
“Damn, Angel is like you, Saint. He likes to go on and on about shit he feels is a great injustice!” Raphael teased, but this time, Saint didn’t find it funny. He just stood there looking at his best friend, frowning.
“Angel, you don’t like to box. No, you like to fight, beat up people for just looking at you wrong. There’s a difference,” Saint explained, and then they started to walk again.
“I don’t start anything. I just end it. You did me greasy, Saint. Straight up.” Saint rolled his eyes at Angel’s dramatic protests.
Raphael smirked and shook his head at the two as they entered into the gym. Saint paused when the others marched inside and regarded his mentor from a distance. The man was standing in the middle of the ring in the gym, giving some one-on-one intensive training to a young cat. It seemed more times than not when Saint dropped in unannounced, this was how he found his big brother. It seemed Bomb was still keeping his regimen, taking his sobriety
seriously.
Even for an old cat, his body was in tip top condition. He had a lean frame, but muscular, a healthy glow in his skin and the whites of his eyes pure. It was a beautiful thing to see Bomb in such a way. He needed that visual possibly even more than Bomb did.
“Yo!” Saint called out. “Who’s that crazy old ass Puerto Rican mothafucka tryna show off?!”
Bomb looked up, venom in his dark eyes, but then his face split in a grin and out poured loud, thunderous laughter.
“You son of a bitch! Little Pharaoh!” Bomb clapped his hands. “You didn’t tell me you were comin’ by, man. We just spoke yesterday!” The man laughed as he jumped out the ring like a grasshopper, then paused at the sight of Raphael. “Oh my God … Saint’s old friend from around the block. Raphael, right? You were on Charlotte Street for a while. We used to call you Milk Dud.”
Saint burst out laughing and jumped up and down, placing his fist to his mouth. He pointed at Raphael, belly filling with mirth.
“Shit, man! I forgot about that! The Savage Skulls did call you Milk Dud! Ha! You big headed mothafucka! All round ’nd shit, like a Junior Mint. It looks the same even today!”
Raphael rolled his eyes, clearly not enjoying being a butt of a joke.
“I haven’t seen you in years, man!” Before Raphael could respond, Bomb enveloped him in his arms and gave a hearty hug. Nipsey Hussle’s “Picture Me Rollin” boomed from the speakers.
“Yeah, Bomb, it’s me. Damn, you’ve got a good memory. I don’t look like that same pea-head big-mouthed kid, but you could still tell it was me, huh?”
“The eyes … the eyes never change.” Bomb nodded, growing a bit more serious.
“Wow. I haven’t seen you in a mighty long time.” They slapped hands.
“Well, I’m sure Saint told you, but I was in and out of three hots and a cot-ville, man.” They all laughed mirthlessly. “Started out sniffin’ glue, got a hold of some cheap wine and weed, then I was messing with some crack-cocaine, a little bit of heroin. Anything I could get my hands on. I used to lie about what type of drugs I did, but not no more. The truth set me free.” Bomb tossed a glance at Angel as his tone drew serious. “Doing bids for most of my adult life, getting into things I shoulda left alone. My little brother here, though.” Bomb pointed at Saint with a proud smile on his face. “Gave me an instant rehab, some tough love … just like I used to do him, you know?” Saint dropped his head for a spell, said a silent prayer, then looked back into the man’s eyes. “Saint’s my little brother. I looked out for him, but the tables got turned … and he looked out for me.” Bomb’s voice shook as his eyes glossed over.