by Ca$H
“You hear them, baby?” Kayundra said into the phone.
“Yeah. You doing concerts all up in there? You tell them I said they need to be paying you,” Rah kidded with her.
Kayundra delivered his message.
“Pay you no damn mind,” said Porcelin, and Rah heard a room full of laughter on the other end of the line. He could tell that Kayundra was well liked by the other women in the program.
“Let me go, baby, before I have to go postal on this chick about her dang cell phone,” said Kayundra.
“Raheem, your girl just frontin’, I’ll whup her young ass,” shouted the lady who the cell belonged to. Her tone made it obvious that her and Kayundra were just kidding back and forth.
“Sing pretty for ’em, boo,” Rah encouraged.
“I will. Love you!”
“Love you too, ma.”
With Raheem’s sweet goodbye still ringing in her ears and fluttering her heart, Kayundra sang her ass off for the women that night. She closed her eyes and thought of how much she loved and needed Rah, and tears ran down her face as her self-written lyrics of love, hope, and redemption flowed from deep down in her soul in a melodic beauty that earned her a standing ovation from the fifteen recovering addicts present.
Most of the fifteen women were crying themselves, overwhelmed by Kayundra’s emotions and angelic voice.
TWELVE
Kayundra had less than three weeks left before she would complete the ninety-day program. Last week she and the other women enjoyed visits from their families and loved ones. Tomorrow they were all being granted twelve hour passes away from the recovery center; it was one of the final steps in the program to determine if they were ready to return to their homes and be able to live drug free without having to be watched over.
Kayundra was excited about the pass; she was writing Raheem to share her excitement with him. Porcelin was looking over Kayundra’s shoulder, all up in her business.
“Girl, all you do is write that nigga. I don’t know why you’re so sprung on him, I don’t see shit he’s doing for you,” she tried to pour salt.
“Oh, trust, he’s already done a lot,” said Kayundra.
“What has he done for you?” asked Porcelin in a cynical tone.
“He’s motivated me to do for myself.”
“Tssk! That ain’t shit. You can’t spend motivation, or buy a damn thing with it.”
“Material things don’t matter much to me.”
“Boo, you got a lot to learn, and you sho can’t learn it from a baby boy.”
“Go away, Porcelin. Can’t you see I’m trying to write a letter?”
“Okay, I won’t talk about your little boyfriend,” said Porcelin as she stood in the mirror on the wall in their room, finger combing her shoulder length feathered hair.
“Yes you will. You’ll only hush for a minute then you’ll start up again, like you always do,” Kayundra pulled her card.
Because she had been there and done that, Porcelin thought that she knew everything. She didn’t consider herself a crack addict. “I can take it or leave it,” she always said at the meetings. She was the type of smoker that was never straight strung out on crack, but neither was she ever quite drug free. She’d been smoking crack for almost ten years. God had blessed her with a bangin’ body and a cute face that had thus far withstood her years of addiction.
Porcelin’s game hadn’t been turning tricks for rocks. She got high and fucked pro athletes and big money dope boys. Still, she was a fiend, though a burner to the head couldn’t get her to admit it.
“Ask ya man if he’s heard from his boy CJ, that’s the nigga I wanna meet, judging from what you say about him. You know me. I love them dope niggaz; young, old, skinny, fat, as long as they got cake and product, I’m tryna see ’em. In a pinch, a nigga with nothing but product will do.”
Porcelin saw that Kayundra was ignoring her so she kicked carpet.
The next day Porcelin was filled with exuberance of freedom when she was granted the twelve hour pass. She and Kayundra caught the train to Newark Penn Station, then caught the bus to Little Bricks.
“Kayundra, would you and Porcelin like something to eat?” asked Kayundra’s Mom Dukes after greeting them with a warm hug.
“We sure would,” answered Porcelin, never shy.
Kayundra’s Mom Dukes fixed a late breakfast of turkey sausage, egg omelets, grits, and toast. After breakfast the three of them talked for an hour, then Kayundra said, “I’ll be right back. I’m going down to say hello to Big Ma.”
Kayundra left Porcelin talking to her Mom Dukes while she took the stairs three flights down to Rah’s grandmother’s apartment.
“Hey, baby, come and give me a hug,” smiled Big Ma letting Kayundra in. She was crazy about Kayundra despite her problems, because she knew that Kayundra’s heart was platinum.
“Chile, you’re looking so good!” exclaimed Big Ma.
“Thank you.”
“No, baby, praise God, He is so wonderful.”
“Yes He is,” agreed Kayundra.
“Just keep faith in the Lord and He’ll keep on blessing you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes!”
Kayundra was blushing all over.
“Where’s LaKeesha and the baby?” she asked.
“They just left awhile ago. Gone somewhere with her new boyfriend.”
“New boyfriend? What happened to the baby’s daddy?” Kayundra inquired, being nosey.
“He went to trial and got convicted of murder, that’s what happened. Now he’s gone to prison and you know she is too hot in the behind to wait on him to come home.
If Raheem were to go to prison I’d wait on him for eternity, Kayundra thought.
“Anyway, are you out of the program now?” asked Big Ma.
“No, I’m on pass. I have three weeks left in the program.”
“That’s good. I’m proud of you, and I know God has good things planned for you,” said Big Ma sitting down on the couch and patting a spot next to her. “Chile, you might as well sit down, you ain’t gonna grow taller standing up,” she joked.
Kayundra sat down next to Big Ma, not minding the smell of Ben Gay that emaciated from her.
“Now you listen to me real good, honey. I know you love my Raheem. And I know he loves you, too. Y’all can just save all that friends nonsense y’all be tryna sell. I may be old but I still know love when I see it.”
“I know you do, Big Ma,” Kayundra happily agreed.
“Raheem is a good person, with a good head on his shoulders, but he doesn’t trust his intelligence. If you’re gonna be his woman, you’ll have to be strong to make sure he stays on the right path.”
“But how do I do that, Big Ma? I’m not very strong at all,” Kayundra admitted.
“You’ll have to find a way. Otherwise you’ll bring each other down,” Big Ma said, speaking with the wisdom of her seventy-one years of age. “Just pray,” she added, seeing a lack of confidence but a whole lot of love in Kayundra’s eyes.
As Kayundra climbed the stairs back up to her Mom Dukes apartment, she passed by several fiends buying crack from dealers on the stairs. She noted the sunken in faces and lifeless eyes of the crackheads, and shivered at the reality that just months ago she was one of them too.
After she collected Porcelin they walked towards the bus stop.
“Girl, why we gotta catch the bus over to my peoples spot? We both fine enough to charm one of these niggaz out on the block to give us a ride to Springfield Avenue. What’s the point in having booty if we don’t use it to our advantage?” asked Porcelin.
“No, let’s just stick to the plan, the bus will be along shortly,” Kayundra objected.
“Watch this,” said Porcelin, undeterred. She twisted her butt as she walked right up to a dude named Rakim, who was posted between two buildings. He grilled her, even though she was looking kinda good, like a smoker does when she’s been clean for a few months.
Porcelin was fittin’ the hell out of a p
air of seven jeans, thighs thick, booty swole.
“Boo. I know you’re on your grind, but my mother is real sick and I need a ride to her house so that I can take her some medication,” gamed Porcelin, pushing her titties out.
“Fuck I look like? A taxi?” Rakim spazzed. “Yo, Kayundra, she with you?”
“Let’s go, Porcelin,” urged Kayundra, who was back on the sidewalk, not bothering to answer Rakim.
He walked over to where Kayundra stood, and looked her up and down. “Damn, yo, where you been? You done got thick as hell, shorty.” Then he checked out Porcelin, “Ma, that ass got a nigga thinkin’.”
“Oh, it’s like that?” Porcelin jiggled her butt like a stripper.
Rakim pulled out a few stones. “I got what y’all want, y’all got what I want. Let’s make it happen.”
“I’m out,” said Kayundra. She did not wait for Porcelin to respond; she turned and walked up the street.
If this bitch is behind me cool. If not, I’m leaving her ass. I’m not letting her get me caught up in anything.
“Aw, ho, don’t be tryna act grand ’cause yo crack smoking ass done gained a few pounds. Just last month you was suckin’ dick for kibbles and bits,” hollered Rakim.
To Kayundra it sounded like the whole block was laughing, though in actuality there was only a few niggaz amused by Rakim’s put down of her. She wanted to turn around and correct him, it had been five months since she had sucked dick for a rock, not one. Instead of responding to the jeer, Kayundra stiffened her back, held her head up high, and pushed on.
Porcelin caught up to her as she passed by one of CJ’s spots.
“Basehead Kayundra, does ya friend suck and fuck for a rock like you do?” someone called out.
Porcelin whirled around and faced the nigga that had hurled the insult.
“Yeah, boo, I fuck for rocks. The kind you get at Tiffany’s…something your broke ass can’t afford.”
“Ugly ass bitch, ya rotten pussy ain’t worth a nic’, let alone no damn Tiffany’s,” another block hustla butted in.
“Kayundra, I know you not tryna front. I done ran up in you for some crack residue!” a third nigga interjected, causing mad laughter from his mans.
“Look what you got started!” Kayundra gritted at Porcelin.
“Fuck them mark ass lames. They ain’t nothin’ but some young tricks. If there was no crack, all of them niggaz dicks would be brand new, still in the wrapper ’cause they sho ain’t got no mack game.” Despite her anxiety, Kayundra had to laugh at that.
“Kayundra!”
She turned towards the familiar voice. CJ was getting out of his Expedition, rockin’ his chain, a white T-shirt, RocaWear jeans, and Timbs. A New Jersey Nets fitted was pulled down low over his brows.
“I see you’re back on the block, cluckin’. I told Rah you was gonna fall weak.”
“You’re wrong, CJ. I’m still in rehab. I’m just home on a pass; I’m not doing anything but on my way to the bus stop.”
“That’s CJ?” whispered Porcelin. “Damn, that young nigga is fine! Introduce me, bitch.”
“CJ this is my friend Porcelin. Porcelin, that’s CJ, Raheem’s best friend. And that’s Kareem who just walked up.”
“Sup,” Kareem nodded.
CJ didn’t bother speaking to Porcelin.
“If you’re with Kayundra, I know you a clucker too,” CJ accused.
“Na, ma, say it ain’t so. You too damn fine to fuck wit’ da pipe,” intoned Kareem, who then started tryna put his mack down.
Porcelin was only half-listening because who she really wanted to holla at was the Big Dog, CJ.
CJ paid her about the same attention that he would pay to a Jehovah Witness, so Porcelin accepted the consulation.
“Give me your number, boo. I’ma give you a call,” she told Kareem.
“What, you gon’ program it into ya cell phone?”
“Um, I lost my cell, baby boy. We gon’ have to do this old school, write it down on a piece of paper.”
“You got a pen?”
“Nope. Sorry.”
“Yo, I got fiddy dollars for a pen,” Kareem yelled out, stuntin’ hard.
A fiend ran up with an eye liner in hand.
“That’ll work, yo. But I’m not given yo ass but forty, you been owing me ten for the longest,” Kareem said to the bare-mouthed woman who was only thirty-two but looked sixty.
“That’s cool. Can you pay me with rocks?”
“Yeah. Yo, fam, give this bitch two twenty cent joints,” he called out to a nigga on the squad. Kareem wrote his cell number on a fifty dollar bill and gave it to Porcelin.
“Get at me, ma.”
“I will,” she promised.
“If you don’t, it’s your loss. I can blow my nose on fiddy dollar bills and run out of snot way before I run out of gaup, na mean?”
Kayundra had never been so happy to get onto the bus in her life. After all the jeers, the indifferent expressions on the faces of the other passengers on the bus seemed like welcoming smiles.
Porcelin wasn’t trippin’. Little Bricks wasn’t her hood, so the insults hadn’t been as personal to her as they’d been to Kayundra.
The anecdote for them taunting will be redemption. Only God can judge me, Kayundra reminded herself. Time will prove them wrong about me.
“Them nickel and dime niggaz think they are all that just because they’re street pharmacist. But I gotta admit, even at my age, I still love the fuck out of a hustlaz swag,” said Porcelin, seated next to Kayundra on the bus. “I like that damn CJ. Is his young ass always so damn mean?”
“Towards me he is,” said Kayundra with regret. She badly wanted Rah’s best friend to like her.
“I bet I can soften his ass up.”
“I bet you can.”
“What’s wrong with you? I know you didn’t let those niggaz upset you? They just frontin’ ’cause their mans were around. Get them alone and they’ll give up their re-up for some of what we got.”
“Porcelin, aren’t you tired of all the bullshit? I mean, don’t you want to be respected?”
“No. I just wanna be high and get paid.”
When they reached Porcelin’s cousin’s house on Springfield Avenue Kayundra realized that it was a crack house as soon as they walked in the door. Baseheads was sitting on the floor of the furniture-less, bare-floor living room, getting blasted.
“Girl, I’m outta here!” Kayundra grilled Porcelin and hissed.
“Don’t bug out, I just want to spend a few minutes with my cuz, then we can bounce.
Porcelin’s cousin, Camilla, had visited her at the rehab house so Kayundra had already met her. She smiled at Porcelin as she came from out of a back room of the raggedy house, pulling up her Capri pants, with a fat greasy man behind her. The man ogled Kayundra and said “I wish I could get this dick hard again, you look like a good piece of ass.”
Kayundra just ignored him.
“Leave her alone, Tiny. She’s tryna stay clean,” said Camilla.
“Not trying, I am staying clean,” corrected Kayundra.
She arrived back at the rehab house with three hours to spare before curfew at eight. She had walked out and left Porcelin at the crack house. The house matron asked why she had returned so soon. “And where is Porcelin? I thought that you two were together?”
“I wasn’t feeling well so I came on back. I left Porcelin at the mall, she’s cool.” Kayundra lied, tryna cover for her friend.
“She’ll get herself in trouble,” said the house matron. “Here, I need you to pee in this for me.” She shoved a cup in Kayundra’s face.
When Kayundra submitted the urine sample the matron asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Are you asking if I’ve used drugs while out on pass?”
“No. Had you relapsed I don’t believe that you would have returned from pass so early. But I am suspicious of your story, and I suspect that your early return has something to do with Porcelin,” said the matron,
who had a very keen sense for detecting game. Dealing with addicts for more than ten years had her on point.
Still, Kayundra stuck to her story.
“If Porcelin has violated her treatment you aren’t helping her by covering for her. Remember, we talked extensively about enablers.”
“No, she was fine when I left her,” said Kayundra. The house was quiet because no one else had returned from pass yet. She went to shower after being told her urine sample was clean of drugs. After showering and putting on pajamas and a tee, Kayundra began writing a letter to Raheem. An hour later, other women began returning from pass one by one.
“So how was your day?” inquired one of the women, speaking to Kayundra.
“Uneventful,” she said, not wanting to recap her day. Also, she was worried about Porcelin.
“Did you get some dick?” asked another.
“No, I did not. The only person I’d get with like that is way down in Atlanta, Georgia.”
“Yeah, we know. Raheem, right?”
Thirty minutes before curfew, ten women had returned, leaving five still out. The ten women started placing bets on which of the five would not return at all. Kayundra refused to place a bet, she was hoping that everyone would return, though the situation she’d last seen Porcelin in was as dangerous as dangling from the roof of a highrise by a piece of thread.
Two more women returned five minutes before curfew, leaving three unaccounted for, Porcelin amongst the absent. A chorus of applause erupted when Porcelin came bouncing into the day room where all the women had gathered, beating curfew by only thirty seconds.
“How many of you dopeheads counted me out?” she half-joked.
Relieved laughter answered her, but the joy subsided quickly as they realized that two women had not, and probably would not, return.
Awhile later, Porclein was seated at the foot of Kayundra’s bed. Kayundra was in bed with her back against the headboard, about to read Thugs And The Women Who Love Them by Wahida Clark.
“Girl, why did you leave me,” Porcelin whispered.
“You know dang well why I left, Porcelin. I don’t appreciate you taking me to a crackhouse! You may think that shit is cute, but hello, we’re supposed to stay away from those places!”