Dysfunctional (The Root of Betrayal)

by Tameka Hicks

  Lexis flopped down in the seat next to her, scooting underneath her. “It’s cold in here.

  “I guess you should be sis, you’re wearing a short sleeve shirt and spandex pants,” she giggled. “Are you having doubts?”

  “No.”

  Diane shook her head. “Look at that picture on the wall.

  Alexis rolled her eyes, “What about it?” She hunched her shoulders. “What?”

  “A picture of a woman holding a baby in an abortion clinic,” she whispered. “And why do they have family magazines in here?”

  Alexis closed her eyes, exhaled and replied to Conspiracy Cole, “You said yourself that they do more than abortions in here, they can promote life too?”

  “I only said that to prove a point to her. Eighty percent of services that this clinic deals with are abortions, and you know it. The business is listed under Abortion Clinics so-”

  “Alexis Brown,” said the nurse.

  “There is a God,” she said loud. Her body started to tremble as she walked to the back room with her white, cotton gown in hand. “You were starting to get on my nerves,” she walked away saying.

  “So,” Diane chuckled, as she picked up the magazine from the table to help calm her nerves. She was nervous about her sister getting the procedure done, but she couldn’t let her know that. She had seen the nervousness in her eyes.

  45 minutes later

  “Diane, is that you?” The squeaky voice sounded familiar. She looked up. Kelly stood smiling off to the side of her.

  “Hey Kelly,” she replied shocked, but not as shocked, as she was to see Juan strolling through the door behind her. What the fuck, she wondered.

  He was appalled when he walked in and had seen Diane occupying a seat. She sat there stunned with her mouth wide-open and speechless… (Diane is speechless?)

  Alexis said she had scheduled an appointment for Thursday, not today, he thought. “We should leave,” he whispered in Kelly’s ear. She ignored his suggestion. It is time for Alexis to find out about us.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you without the glasses and the mushroom hair style,” Kelly said.

  “Yes, I cut my hair as you can see,” she said, touching her hair.

  Juan decided to sit in a secluded area away from everyone behind a wall that had room for one chair. He better had! She must be crazy standing here talking to me, and she just strolled in with my sister’s boyfriend. I don’t know what’s going on, but the devil is always busy. He’s working overtime on this one. I hope they’re gone or her name is called before Lexis gets out. Oh shit! Here she comes.”

  She walked from the back with blood shot eyes; her eyelids were puffy like she had gotten into a fight with Mike Tyson. “I’m ready.”

  She walked past Juan not noticing him, and he waited for her to walk past and darted for the door.

  “Where are you going Juan?” blurted Kelly.

  “Juan?” wondered Alexis. She noticed the voice behind the caller. “Kelly?”

  Kelly hightailed in behind him. “Juan, you better come back here and tell her,” she explained.

  Everyone stared. Alexis stood mannequin-like, looking traumatized until the information settled into her brain. It was now clear. Diane grabbed at her shirt, but missed it. Outside she went after her sister. Kelly and Juan stood in the parking lot arguing about why he wasn’t going to tell Alexis about their baby.

  “I’m not explaining anything to anyone! You do it!” Kelly said.

  The pro-lifers were gone for the day, or on lunch break either way the coast was clear. Diane tried to convince Alexis why she shouldn’t cause a scene with them; being black and in Eastpointe was one of them-the main one.

  “Wait a minute!” she walked in front of Alexis before she pushed her aside.

  “What’re you going to do,” asked a smirking Kelly.

  Alexis quickly wiped the smirk off her face with a HARD smack, and she fell to her knees. Kelly frantically jumped up yelling, but Diane told her to stand back, and let them handle it alone. She continued to bump and jump around, expressing anger, (But not stupidity.) She kept her distance from Alexis’ raging hands.

  Juan told Kelly to get into the car, but not before Alexis began to bang on the hood of his car and had put two dents into the driver’s side door. She felt nauseated looking at them bastards as a couple, her blood cousin and so-called boyfriend. She was hot under the collar, irate and demented all at the same time, which wasn’t good at all. She didn’t say a word; she couldn’t speak-anger had her tongue-it took over, and it didn’t want to talk, it wanted to see blood-Their blood.

  A half piece of brick on the ground stuck out like its purpose for being there was strictly for her hand and his car. People stood around looking as the mad woman tried to destroy the moving vehicle. He shifted the transmission into reverse, but not fast enough because she had tagged his front windshield with the brick.

  “You bitch!” He roared, burning rubber. As they pulled off, Kelly was on the inside of the car beating and cursing him out.

  “Your trifling mama,” Diane replied as the car sped off.

  “Come on Alexis. Stand here, I have to go down there to that payphone and call a cab.”

  Still not speaking, Alexis leaned up against the side of the building. Her eyes filled with tears as she wept. Diane put her arm around her. “Cheer up, little sis. You got the chance to slap the fake Barbie into the middle of next week like you always wanted to do. You beautifully redecorated his pride and joy like you said so many times that you wanted to do, and you don’t have to see his ugly face again, which is something I wanted,” they giggled.

  She smiled. “You might not be seeing his face, but you might see someone’s face that looks like his. I didn’t do it-I couldn’t kill my baby.”

  “You mean you didn’t?” she asked joyfully. She lifted her sister off her feet. “I’m sorry. Mama is going to be ecstatic!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled. “She doesn’t have to be sick every morning.”

  “Girl, you will be okay, and you are not supposed to be carrying on like that, and you’re pregnant,” she explained with a laugh. “You could’ve made my niece fall out from all that kicking and fighting.”

  “Will you go and call a cab? I’m hungry.”

  “You should be tired too.”

  “Funny.”

  “I thought you were going to pick up his car next,” she said jokingly.

  “Super Woman,” she walked towards the payphone.

  Dear Diary,

  It’s never a dull moment in my family’s life. Lexis is pregnant, and had planned on getting rid of the baby. When she went to the clinic, she couldn’t do it after she got a glimpse of the baby on the ultrasound machine. To add spice to an already messed up situation, my cousin Kelly is pregnant by Juan as well, and they just happened to go to the clinic on the same day, talk about perfect timing.

  Alexis had an appointment scheduled for Thursday, but they had a cancellation and scheduled it for Tuesday. He didn’t want Alexis to keep the baby because he already had two kids. Kelly’s baby is the third and Alexis (well, you can count.) Shaking my head. These females must be out of their minds. What are they fighting over? If he was so concerned about not having children then there’s this thing called a condom, or a vasectomy; which would’ve put all his concerns aside and would save these women trips to the clinic and him money. He seems like the type of boy who lives carefree: a do-it-today, worry-about-it-tomorrow type of fellow. He obviously likes Kelly more because he went to the clinic with her, and she’s fourteen weeks pregnant, so she’s apparently keeping it (they went for confirmation.) Why are men so backwards?

  I’ve heard it through the grapevine that the baby she’s carrying isn’t even his. She’s using him for his money and to get back at Alexis because they get along like water in an engine. Let’s see how long that works out for you. Alexis is carrying his baby, and she likes him but he’d rather play house with Kelly (a phony, plastic in
dividual; who’s made-up from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet: horse hair, colored contacts, nail tips, eyelashes, padded bras,) if you stripped the things that were purchased, she’s average.

  Alexis isn’t an ugly person, she could be pretty nerve-racking, but beautiful when she wants to be. Did I just compliment her? Kelly is crazy about name brands and would die before she stepped into school without make-up on and bragging rights of being the most fashionable student. The big dummy is twenty years old in the twelfth grade; she should be worried about finishing school before her baby catches up with her, rather than looking good and wearing designer jeans. Well, guess who’s still in the twelfth grade? Kelly-yeah but she’s an exception because she’s so pretty… pretty dumb. All the hair, eyeliner and designer clothes in the world can’t replace knowing that two negatives make a positive or that two wrongs don’t make it right, so if you turn around and go left that might be right. (Huh?) I just wanted to see if you were paying attention to me. My grandmother, The Cliché Queen, taught us that we are beautiful, strong women, who don’t need for men to validate who we are because if we love ourselves unconditionally, we won’t accept bullshit from anyone else.

  My grandmother was raised by her (father’s mother) grandmother (thank God) because the women in this family suffer from that I’ll take your man, syndrome. Aunt Max did it and now Kelly so I’d better be very careful when I get a boyfriend. I’m upset because I wished that I was there to witness Lexis slap the dog shit out of Kelly. I wonder if she lost an eyelash or a contact lens. It must be something in the water and the women in my family got baptized in it. Jeanette, Alexis, Kelly and my cousin Tiffany are all with child. I don’t know who Jeanette’s going to rely on to keep her baby while she works, but I can tell you who’s not babysitting. I must return to the dungeon tomorrow night because school’s about to start on Tuesday. Grandma took me to pick up my schedule. Of course I received a one to eight. Open to close, are you joking? First year in high school (I’m a Denby Tar baby,) and I have to be there all day long. Ugh! I guess I’d better get my things together because my vacation is officially over. Write in you soon Tamara.

  Four Months Later

  December 23, 1990

  EARLY ARRIVAL

  Jeanette moved into the larger bedroom downstairs on the first floor because she was instructed to stay in bed until she had given birth to the baby. She had threatened a miscarriage twice within two months due to a weakened cervix. She needed to stay off of her feet until her due date, which was February 19, 1991.

  Everyone, well almost everyone, was excited about the arrival of the baby except Tamara. She had been bedridden but Tamara thought that she took the doctor’s orders to the extreme. Jeanette bought a gold bell that she used to let Tamara know when she needed something. She wanted to take that bell, smash it and shove it up her nose every time she heard it ring. She pictured her mother shaking that damn bell. Bring me a sandwich Tamara!” She would fix the sandwich. “Can you turn on a movie?” Ring! Ring! “I need you to come and change my bedpan.” Ring! Ring! If I could kill her and get away with it, I would, she thought. Four more years and I’m out of here.

  She had driven Tamara insane with the usage of her new gold bell. She came to the conclusion that she was either going to break her fingers or her hand. She chose the hand because if she broke her fingers, she would be able to slide the bell through her broke fingers to ring it. If she broke her hand, she won’t be capable of moving it at all.

  Yesterday, Jeanette called Tamara’s principal and requested that she receive a two to seven hour schedule until she had the baby so she could help her out more at home. She didn’t want to help out at all, and now she had to come home two hours early to deal with this shit. She stormed into the house, tossed her books onto the floor, and headed straight towards Jeanette’s room.

  “I didn’t get you pregnant so why must I be your full-time servant? This isn’t fair!”

  “Life isn’t fair Tamara,” explained Jeanette. “You don’t want to help take care of me until I have the baby?”

  She gave Jeanette a sassy look. “Hell No!”

  She laughed. “If you take care of me now, I will leave this house and all my money to you, but you will have to take care of the baby.”

  Tamara chuckled.

  “Oh gee, thanks a lot! All of this will be mine? This condemned house and your broken down Corsica, all three of your fake fur coats and your millions,” she laughed. “The city will eventually come and tear this house down. Besides, you have what? Two hundred dollars in a savings account that me and your ugly baby will have to split. Not to mention, that I will have to raise a baby that I didn’t create. No, thank you. I’ll pass.”

  “Life is what you make it,” said Jeanette.

  “What did you make of your life?” She paused. “Not much, so save the knowledgeable speech for your stupid baby.”

  “Don’t call my baby stupid. She’s going to be smart,” she laughed.

  Tamara mumbled. “If she’s smart, as soon as she starts walking, she’ll run away from this house.”

  “I heard that!”

  “So what,” she said, slamming the door. “I didn’t stutter.”

  “You are a trip.”

  I wish that I could take a trip.

  Even though she’d been released from school early today, (which she should have been happy about it, but wasn’t) because next semester she would have to make up for the two classes that she was excused from. She angrily transferred the sloppily prepared sandwich, chips and beverage from the counter to the tray, and then to her room, almost knocking it over on her.

  “You and this ugly baby of yours is altering my damn life already, and it’s not even born yet! I hate you!”

  “What did we do know?”

  “I have to take these two classes over, possibly even summer school because of you!” She flopped down in the chair. “I’m tired,” she said, rubbing her sore feet.

  Jeanette said with a smile, “I know you are. You can hate me but can you do it after you make me another sandwich, change this bedpan and bring my wash-up pan?”

  She looked at Jeanette screaming to the top of her lungs.

  “I HATE THIS HOUSE!!” She slammed the door with all her strength.

  That’s one crazy child! She must get her attitude from her other people.

  The phone rang ten times before she had answered it. Her counselor explained that she needed to provide the school with proof of her mother’s condition from her physician. She felt relieved to have received the call because she had a legitimate reason to get out of the house before she killed Jeanette. She finished helping her mother, and then she headed straight to the clinic to pick up the health form. The rest of the day went smoothly.

  The next morning, she stood in the school’s main office waiting to give the secretary the signed form. The school’s receptionist took the document from her hand and dialed the phone number on the paper to verify its authenticity. She stamped “Approval” on the form and an “Excused” stamp onto the pass.

  Tamara slowly strolled to math class and that was when she decided that she wasn’t going to allow Jeanette to make her suffer because she was miserable. She knew she had no choice but to help Jeanette out, but she was going to squeeze some fun time out for herself somehow.

  Every day after school, she’d done her daily chores for Jeanette, homework, and helped herself to a serving of Charles making out with him every other night. Tonight, like most nights, she’d snuck him into her room as Jeanette slept. She wasn’t worried about Jeanette walking upstairs because of her condition, but that didn’t stop him from worrying.

  “Happy sweet eighteenth birthday,” she kissed him on the cheek.

  “Thank you baby,” he kept his attention on the door. “What the fuck am I doing here? I must be crazy letting you convince me to come up here again. ”

  She kissed him and unfastened his pants. “Take these off and I will show you why you’re h
ere.”

  He enjoyed being with her, but not under these stressful circumstances.

  “Stop being such a pussy,” she retorted.

  “Whatever girl, if Jeanette caught me up here she would kill me.”

  He had offered to pay for a hotel room but Tamara figured that she could’ve done better things with the money like buying cigarettes, and that book by that new author Tameka Oliver.

  “I can’t leave this house anyway,” she told him.

  He wondered. Yet was grateful, that Jeanette didn’t wake up from all the noise they had made. To make matters worse, he was no longer a minor; he was a grown man now, and he thought of his father’s words, whenever they were together.

  “When you go to jail because you’re messing around with that fast ass girl, don’t call me or your mother to bail you out!” At least his parents were aware of their friendship; Jeanette didn’t have a clue. She had heard rumors that she liked Charles many moons ago, but she had no idea of what went on right underneath her nose in her home.

  He had stretched across her bed half-naked wearing a watch and a pair of tube socks. He rolled over and noticed that she was fully clothed, walking around.

  “I need a cigarette.”

  “Dang,” he said.

  She snatched a cigarette out of its pack from the top drawer that was stashed underneath some clothes. She opened the window and parked herself on the ledge.

  “What are you looking at?” she blew the smoke out the window.

  He put on his black and red heart boxer shorts. “Why do you always rush and put your clothes back on after we have sex?” Most guys do stuff like that, not the girl. I wouldn’t mind cuddling sometimes, he thought to himself.

  She sat next to him after she had finished smoking her cigarette. “What do you want me to do? Lie around here naked so when Jeanette rings that fucking bell for me to do something, I have to rush and put my clothes on. That’s too much shit to do. What should it matter to you? You got what you wanted.”