CHAPTER TWENTY
MY CHECKLIST WAS almost complete. It was amazing the difference a couple of weeks made at Amber’s Place. The girls really came through. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent in a whirlwind of activity as all the girls worked hard to get everything done for the big day.
Quiana and Red were going over the programs for the reception when I walked into the room on Thursday morning. I was shocked that Quiana had beaten me to Amber’s Place. She was working alongside Red and had the printed certificates in her hand.
She saw the confused look on my face.
“What?” Quiana snapped, dropping the programs and the certificates that she had been holding on the table. I smiled at Red. Quiana looked angry and leaned back forcefully in her chair. I sat down next to her and picked up one of the programs.
“So, what do you think, NaTasha?” Red asked, grinning from ear to ear. She was proud of us. In a lot of ways, these girls were her children, even me. She’d trusted us with this project and we’d done a great job. But I couldn’t have done it without the help of each of the girls, including Quiana. I told Red so. “I have to say, girls,” Red told us, “I’m impressed. I didn’t expect you to work together, let alone put together a program as nice as this one. Your family and friends are going to be so proud.”
Quiana stared at the door every few minutes and checked her watch, too. She wasn’t waiting for her family members; she already said that no one was coming to see her. Susan and Shaunda walked through the door chatting excitedly. Rochelle walked in next. Quiana nodded to her, but kept her arms crossed and her teeth clenched.
Red updated the girls with the latest news about the reception, but kept a close watch on the time. Only a handful of hours were left and we still had to decorate and run through the program. Monique was late.
We chatted about the last-minute details as long as possible, but everyone was thinking the same thing. Where was Monique?
“So, ladies, let’s get started,” Red said, glancing at the door one last time. She looked disappointed and worried. “We need to decorate and rehearse. What would you like to do first?”
“Let’s decorate and get it over with,” Rochelle said, jumping up with a bag of streamers and balloons in her hand. She started handing streamers to each of us and pointing us toward the tables in the reception hall.
After an hour of taping streamers to tables and arranging flower bouquets, I couldn’t concentrate anymore. I dropped the paper plates and plastic silverware onto the table of drinks and reached for my cell phone to leave yet another voice mail message on Monique’s phone.
“I just called her, too,” Quiana said, coming up next to me. She was holding her phone in one hand and a stack of programs in the other hand. Quiana shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “You can try, though, just in case.”
While I called, Quiana dropped off the flyers with Rochelle and went to wait for Monique by the door. Rochelle tried to hand her another bag of streamers, but Quiana blew her off.
I left another message and went to get my next assignment. Rochelle hesitantly threw me a bag of purple and silver curtains to wrap around the podium and stage area.
“Pretty soon she’s going to go after her,” I told her, motioning toward Quiana at the doorway.
“Yeah, I know,” Rochelle answered quickly.
“You two are good friends, have you heard anything from her?” I asked. Even if she had heard, I wasn’t sure Rochelle would tell me anything, but there was a chance.
“No, I haven’t heard anything, and what’s it to you?” Rochelle said, folding an extra tablecloth.
“I was just asking, because I thought you’d be concerned, too,” I told her.
“I am concerned, but I can’t drop my life every time Monique decides to go back to that loser, now can I?” she said, snapping at me without stopping her work. She wiped out the inside of a punch bowl and set it back in place next to a stack of plastic cups. She sounded harsh and I think she realized it after I stood there for a few minutes in silence. She continued in a softer voice, “I’ve done that before and I told her I wasn’t doing it no more. This time she’ll have to learn on her own.”
This wasn’t Monique’s first disappearing act. Quiana looked like she was waiting for permission to leave. I didn’t blame her at all. If Heather ever went missing, I wouldn’t know what to do.
Thinking about Heather made me a little sad. Our last few conversations hadn’t gone so well. Maybe she wasn’t my best friend anymore at all. I wouldn’t be surprised now if she didn’t come with my folks for the ceremony.
Red placed six candles in the center of each table, representing each girl being recognized at the reception.
“I really am proud of the work you girls have done for the center,” Red said, “and I want you to know you’re always welcome to come and visit us anytime.”
“Not a chance, Red,” Rochelle joked. We all laughed.
“Well, let’s at least practice our program for tonight before you all tear out of here,” she said.
I whispered into Red’s ear, and Red turned to look at Quiana and nodded. I grabbed my purse and sweater and took Quiana by the arm. She jumped away from me and put up her fists. I held up my hands in surrender and smiled at her.
“Let’s go,” I told her.
“Wait, girls…” Red yelled after us. We turned. “What about gifts for everyone?”
“You let us worry about that,” I told her. “We already have something in mind.”
“We do?” Quiana asked. I nodded and pulled her the rest of the way down the hallway. Once outside she finally shook away from me.
“Sellout, where are we going?” She enunciated every syllable like Tilly does when she scolded me for something.
“You want to find Monique, right?” I challenged her. She didn’t say anything, just got this blank look on her face. I took that as a yes. “Well, let’s go see if she’s okay. Let’s go find her.”
I didn’t wait for her to respond. I knew she wanted to find Monique as much as I did. I turned and walked up the block to the train. Quiana followed a close distance behind me.
“Fine, but this isn’t the way,” she said, grabbing me before I stepped onto a downtown-bound train.
“I know,” I answered, pulling her into the fully packed car. “We have a stop to make first.”
She gave me a look, but continued to follow my lead. I’d expected her to put up more of a fight than she did, but I guess she was tired of arguing with me. I’m sure she was thinking the sooner we found Monique and got through the reception, the better. I couldn’t agree with her more.
We got to Tilly’s block about thirty minutes later.
“Where are we going?” Quiana asked me. Pretty soon, if I didn’t tell her where we were headed, she could turn around and leave me on my own.
“This is Tilly’s block,” I said proudly, like I was giving a celebrity home tour to a visitor. I waved my arms dramatically and pointed out Tilly’s building, the old movie theater, and the bodega. I looked back at her and smiled. She wasn’t amused. I dropped my arms to my side. “We’re just picking up someone who may be able to help and then we can be on our way.”
She nodded and followed me to the basketball courts and right to the person I was looking for. Khalik was standing alone against a fence, bouncing his basketball and juggling his cell phone in the other hand.
“Ooh, you’re so talented,” I said, teasing him. “You know, that ball is not a good look for you all the time.”
Quiana stood next to me and eyeballed Khalik. He looked at her, nodded, and then snapped the phone shut and rolled his eyes at me.
“What do you care?” he snapped back playfully.
He bounce-passed the ball and squared his body in front of me. His eyes focused on me, challenging me to play with him. I could hear Quiana huffing impatiently next to me. There would be plenty of time later to play with Khalik. I caught the ball with both hands and held it against my right
hip. He eyed the ball like it was a hamburger he was dying to bite into. I snapped my fingers in front of his face to get his attention again.
“Not now,” I said, tossing the ball back to him. A few of the other guys on the court had drifted closer to us. Khalik had handsome friends. Quiana kept her eyes on all of them, like a protective watchdog. “I, I mean, we need your help for a little while.”
“Oh, yeah, the way I see it you and your girl need a lot more help than you think if that’s the way you always handle the ball,” he said, slapping high five with an oddly tall kid standing next to him. They laughed. Quiana sucked her teeth and elbowed me in the arm. I had two seconds to enlist Khalik or she was out of there.
“Not with basketball, stupid,” I said. “I need you to come with us now and help me out with something…and you may want to bring a few of your friends.”
Khalik smiled wider than I had ever seen him smile. His friends, who had deserted their game on the court to listen in on our conversation, started hooting and hollering and shoving one another around like Quiana and I were volunteering for a kissing booth and they were in line waiting for a turn. I rolled my eyes and pointed to the court exit. I couldn’t tell how many guys were following along with Khalik, but I didn’t care. When we found Monique, if we found her, the more help the better, especially because we didn’t know what, or who, to expect when we found her.
“What do we need them for?” Quiana hissed, as we swiped our subway cards through once again. A few of Khalik’s friends skipped swiping their cards, and jumped over the turnstiles instead. Maybe it was a mistake to have invited all of them. I shrugged at Quiana. I didn’t know if we needed them at all, I just felt better having them come along just in case.
“Monique may be in trouble when we find her,” I said quietly. “I’m not sure, but these guys may be able to help us.”
Quiana looked at me and didn’t speak. I think we were both taking in the gravity of what I had just told her. I knew she was replaying the conversation with Monique in her head, because I was, too. Monique had promised she’d be okay and at Amber’s Place early to decorate. She wasn’t the type to go back on her word.
Quiana and I watched the boys goof-off on the train. Two of them hung from the handlebars to have a pull-up competition, right there in front of other passengers. A few others cheered them on. Khalik sat quietly across from us throwing his ball from one hand to the other. He studied my face deeply, as if he could tell I was worried about something. I hadn’t explained it all yet, but I was glad he knew I was no longer joking around.
The train rattled along loudly. The boys finally tired of the handlebars games and took seats next to us. As we got closer to Monique’s stop, my heart began to race unsteadily. Even as I prayed for her safety, I could feel we were stepping into some kind of danger. I worried about what I was getting myself—and all of us—into.
The train stopped at Kingsbridge Road in the Bronx and Quiana and I led the way out of the station. The boys followed behind us like a college football team ready to win a bowl game.
While Quiana led the way, I filled Khalik in on the story about Monique, and he understood immediately why I’d come to get him.
“You talked to her, right?” he asked, putting a plan of action together in his head. I nodded and followed Quiana down a well-lit alley between a small grocery and a liquor store. “Then I’m sure she’s cool.”
Quiana made a left turn at a dead-end street, right in front of a housing project. She pointed to one of the buildings and motioned for me and Khalik to follow. Khalik whispered something to some of his friends, who jumped into action like a presidential security team. They stood guard under streetlights and next to trees all the way to the end of the block. Khalik took my hand and we walked next to Quiana into one of the brick buildings.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
BEFORE WE EVEN got to the door to the apartment, we heard loud music wafting down the hallway toward us. When we first knocked, Loser Boyfriend opened it only a crack. When I asked for Monique, he started to close the door again. When he saw Khalik standing behind us, he changed his mind.
“What up, cuz?” L.B. yelled loudly, grabbing Khalik’s outstretched hand and half hugging him, patting him roughly on the back.
“Everything is everything, playa,” Khalik answered. L.B. pulled Khalik into the apartment and had almost forgotten about Quiana and me in the hallway. “Oh, my girls here wanted to holler at Mo. She around?”
We had all eyed him and he us. He had pulled at his sagging sweatpants and dropped himself into a shabby green recliner that didn’t recline. He pointed the remote control in his hand to a stereo next to the baseball game on his TV and motioned toward a closed door down the hall. We let the door slam behind us and shuffled quickly toward Monique. For the first time, Quiana even looked uncomfortable.
We found Monique huddled in the corner of her bedroom. She was rifling through photographs and crying at the same time. There were children in tattered clothes and with wild, unkempt hair smiling in the pictures. Maybe they were Monique’s siblings. By the way she held the pictures and cried a little more at each one, she clearly kept them somewhere deep in her heart.
Monique hardly noticed Quiana and me enter her bedroom, which surprised me because of the small amount of space around us. We barely fit around a pile of unfolded clothes and a twin mattress pushed up against one wall and the window. A red and white striped bedsheet was half tucked under the mattress, but didn’t fit all the way across. The other matching bedsheet hung over the window guards like a curtain. It blew back and forth slightly in the wind.
“Mo, what happened, girl?” Quiana asked. She knelt down on top of the pile of clothes so she was facing Monique. No answer. Monique didn’t look up or move a muscle. After a few minutes she flipped to another photo and started crying again. “We waited for you all morning. You didn’t hear your phone ringing?”
Quiana rifled through the clothes under her and the photos lying around Monique, looking for a phone. She didn’t find one. Quiana shifted uncomfortably and shook her head back and forth. The silence was starting to bother me. Monique had to know how much trouble it was leaving Amber’s Place to come find her, not to mention how much trouble I’d be in if Tilly knew where I was and what I had gotten involved in.
“Yeah, Monique, we were really worried about you,” I said. I took a seat on the mattress and held my bag in my lap. “Weren’t you planning to be recognized at the reception tonight?”
I knew from walking in and seeing her sitting in the corner crying that she probably wasn’t concerned with the reception. That was the least of her worries, especially with L.B. in the other room on the couch.
“Enough with the tired pictures already,” Quiana snapped. Monique and I both jumped. The pictures flew out of Monique’s hands and fell into the pile of clothing between the girls. I stared back and forth to see who would move first. “You know I hate that dude. Why you have us come up here looking for you? You could have called.”
Quiana lectured her like a child. I felt sorry for Monique, for more than just getting yelled at. I wondered if Khalik was alright in the living room. I could still hear loud music playing. I prayed the screams I heard were coming from a song and not from him signaling for help.
“And you could at least have the decency to look at us,” Quiana shot out. She pulled Monique’s chin from its hiding place against her neck. That’s when we saw the mushy dark skin swelling around her right eye, the wound she’d been hiding in tissues since we’d walked in her room.
“Oh my God, Monique,” I tossed my purse aside on the bed and rushed toward her. Quiana put her hand up like a stop sign right in front of my chest.
“No, pack a bag for her,” Quiana said. Her voice was steady. She was in total control and gave orders like a seasoned drill sergeant. I was glad, too, because I was so shook up I didn’t know what to do. “There’s a bag over by the closet, fill it.”
I did as I was told. I
tried to color coordinate, but it was hard to concentrate. Behind my back I could hear Quiana helping Monique to her feet. She changed her clothes, washed and made up her face, and brushed her hair. Only up close could you still see the marks.
My mind raced as I filled her pink duffel to the brim. What would Quiana do to L.B. now? What would he do to us? How would Red and Tilly react? Why was Monique putting up with this? Where were her parents? What were Khalik’s friends doing downstairs? Were they wondering what was taking us so long? What outfit should Monique wear for the reception? Why was I thinking about Monique’s attire? Would any man ever hit me like that? No, Tilly would kill him with a pair of her cooking shears. I picked a pair of small black ballet slippers and zipped the duffel shut.
“You okay, Monique?” I asked her. I knew it was the wrong question to ask her, but I didn’t know what else to say. She nodded. I slung my purse and her bag over my shoulder and stood next to them.
Quiana had combed Monique’s hair so her bangs swept just right across her bruised eye. She did look much better, but she was a little hunched over and stuck closely behind Quiana. Quiana’s anger hadn’t subsided. She stood in front of Monique like a momma lion protecting her young. Only a young naïve animal would attempt to get at that cub. I didn’t even think L.B. was that stupid. We walked past him without a word.
“Alright, man, you stay up,” Khalik said behind us. He was at the door right as I was walking through it. I could tell by how quickly he jumped up that he’d been ready to go for a while. He shut the door behind him before L.B. could even respond. The echo of the door slamming reverberated in my head all the way out of the building and down the street.
“Let’s roll,” Khalik called, motioning for all his friends to join us. They appeared around us like weeds in uncut grass from their hiding corners.
“We got two hours until the reception, one to find gifts and one to get back. Are we going to make it?” I asked. I looked at Quiana and Monique and they both looked back at me, one with confidence and the other blankly. “Yeah, we’re going to make it,” I decided.
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