Stalker

by Brenda Hampton

  “I can talk to my daughter alone. You people have already interfered enough!”

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” Kendal said. “I have nothing to say, other than good-bye.”

  She turned to walk away from me. I reached out and grabbed her arm, squeezing it as tight as I could.

  “My patience is wearing thin with you, young lady. Tighten your lips before I smack you in your mouth!”

  “Go right ahead,” she said, snatching away from me. “Violence is all you know. It’s your answer to everything, and I hope that works out for you.”

  Kendal walked away again. This time, I didn’t stop her. I was embarrassed by the way she treated me. She had been brainwashed. These people had brainwashed my child. I was damn mad about it too.

  Barbara stepped in front of me, trying to be the voice of reason. “Give her more time,” she said. “I know this isn’t easy, but she’s really going through a lot. Maybe you and I can—”

  I held my hand up to stop her from talking. Somebody was responsible for this, and I wasn’t going to take all of the blame. “Barbara, you have nothing to say to me. You should have told me that she was pregnant. If it was your child, I would’ve called to discuss everything with you. But the truth is, you love every bit of this. You and Tammi have always been jealous of us. This is what you had hoped for, and since you want to replace me, go right ahead. Do your best with Kendal and good luck to you both!”

  I stormed off with tears in my eyes. I guess the advice Clinton told me was no good after all. I shouldn’t have listened. Because at the end of the day, Kendal wanted to be in control, and I intended to let her. That’s what I kept telling myself, but I had gotten to the point where I needed some serious help with her. I couldn’t do this alone. Malik needed to step in and do something quickly.

  Instead of going home, I found myself parked outside of his house. I stayed in the car for a while, wondering if this was, indeed, the right thing to do. Thus far, he hadn’t stepped up to provide much help. But now that Kendal was pregnant, maybe he would be willing to talk to her or do something that could help to ease this situation a little. I didn’t have any other place to turn. The least I could do was try.

  I got out of my car and went to the door. The two-story house Malik lived in was pretty decent. I had no complaints. I figured his drug money helped pay for it, but the way he’d been gambling, he was sure to lose it all. I rang the doorbell, and a few minutes later, the chick I had seen him with at Soulard opened the door. She put her hand on her hip and pursed her lips to let me know that I wasn’t supposed to be there.

  “I didn’t come here to speak to you, so relax,” I said. “I came to speak to Malik about something real important. Is he here?”

  “Yeah, he here, but I don’t know if he want to talk to you. You’re always so bitter and angry. He be trying to reach out to you, but you always got an attitude.”

  I hated for a bitch to interfere in matters like this. She didn’t even know what she was talking about. She had no clue what Malik and I had been through, so it was wise for her to keep her mouth shut. That’s what I wanted to say, but since I was so desperate to speak to Malik, I kept my cool.

  “I apologize for coming off that way, but Malik and I have a bad history together that makes me angry at times. Nonetheless, I need to speak to him about our daughter. She’s in trouble, and I could really use his help.”

  I guess those were the magic words, because the chick stepped aside and allowed me to come in. Almost immediately, the strong scent of marijuana hit me. I could hear reggae music playing lightly in the background. I wasn’t sure where Malik was, but his companion invited me into the living room to have a seat. I walked into the room, taking a seat on the microfiber red sofa that was just okay. The entire room was too colorful for my taste, and the décor was real busy. I guess the theme was supposed to be African, but with so many whatnots here and there, I wasn’t sure where Malik was going with this. Never in a million years would I allow him to do our home like this. He needed a professional decorator bad.

  Minutes later, I heard the music go silent. I could hear Malik’s footsteps heading my way, and when he entered the living room, a joint was in his hand.

  “I can’t believe this shit right here,” he said. “Let me pinch you, woman, to make sure it’s really you.”

  He walked closer, and as he reached out to touch me, I backed away from him. “Look, Malik. You’re high, and I really need for you to get serious with me right now. We have a problem. Kendal is going through some things, and I don’t really know how to help her.”

  He appeared concerned, and when he sat down on the couch next to me, he laid the joint in an ashtray. “Help her with what? To me, the problem is you’ve been helping her too much. Kendal is spoiled, and she doesn’t know how to accept no. I don’t mind telling her that, but you, on the other hand, want to give her everything she wants.”

  “I give her what I can afford. And the problem is, you always tell her no. You don’t call to check on her, and every time she asks you for something, the answer is no. For once, can you say yes? Yes, you’ll help us get through this?”

  “Get through what? What’s this all about?”

  “Kendal left home a few weeks ago. She’s staying with Tammi and her mother. I stopped by there today to talk to Kendal, but the conversation turned ugly. She’s pregnant, Malik. I don’t know by who, how far along she is, how or when it happened, but your daughter is pregnant.”

  Malik took a deep breath, then released it. “Well, we damn sure know how it happened. I’m surprised to hear this because Kendal seems like a girl who ain’t interested in doing that.”

  I had to snap back. “How would you know? You’re barely around, Malik, and that’s why she’s seeking relationships with boys who probably don’t even give a damn about her.”

  “Listen,” Malik said as his tone increased, “if you came here to blame me for this shit, you can walk yo’ ass right back out that door and forget about this. I have nothing to do with Kendal getting pregnant. That’s on her, as well as on you. You should have been paying attention to her. You should have taught her better. You should have told her to keep her fucking legs closed, and you should have known the nigga she got pregnant by. Sounds to me like you didn’t know shit.”

  His words caused my anger to boil over. You, you, you! Well, what about his ass? He needed to take some responsibility for this too.

  “Malik, it must feel good to sit there and blame me for everything, and when you get done pointing your finger, I need your help. Please call your daughter and talk to her. Go see her and ask what you can do to make her come back home. She needs to know that we’re both on her side, and maybe if you’ll talk to her, she’ll listen.”

  Malik threw his hand back, brushing off my suggestion. “Talk to her? It’s too late to talk to her if she’s already pregnant. You should have talked to her. Didn’t you teach her about the birds and the bees? I don’t know what you want me to do. Talking didn’t help us, and it damn sure won’t help her.”

  I wanted to take my fist and light his ass up. I couldn’t believe how he sat there, as if he just didn’t give a damn. I just told him his daughter was pregnant. Wasn’t there anything inside of him that wanted to know what he could do to help? I guess not.

  “For the last time, Malik, I need you. You know I wouldn’t have come here, unless this was real important to me. We’re going to lose Kendal. And what about our grandbaby? Won’t you be happy to be a grandfather?”

  “Hell fucking no,” he said bluntly. “I’m too young to be a grandfather. If I talk to Kendal, the only thing I’m going to encourage her to do is have an abortion. She don’t need no damn baby. She don’t even have a job to help take care of one. You need to be telling her the same thing, and why in the world would you want her to bring a child into this world, when she’s a child herself? That’s fucked up, Abby. Real fucked up.”

  I stood with so much anger displayed on my fac
e. My finger pointed in Malik’s direction. “The only thing fucked up is you. Those drugs have fried your damn brain, because you’re not making any sense. I have truly wasted my time coming here. I’ll deal with this on my own, and meanwhile, may you die soon and rot in hell!”

  Malik shooed me away with his hand. “Bye, bitch. Save the drama for your other man. Get out of here, now.”

  I was taken aback by him calling me a bitch. Malik and I used to have some brutal arguments, and every time he went there, he knew that meant trouble. I picked up a pillow from that tacky-ass sofa, and pounded it against his head. It was the only thing I could find, and he’d better be grateful that nothing else hard was within my sights.

  “I got your bitch,” I said, striking him over and over again with the pillow. He was crouched down, trying to protect his face. “Here it is! Here all of it is! Take that, you useless piece of shit!”

  “Pu . . . Put the damn pillow down before you bust it! And get out of here, Abby, before I hurt you!”

  I paid him no mind. I was getting it in for all of his ongoing neglect. It felt good to do this, but when I heard a gun click, I quickly turned around.

  “He said leave,” his girlfriend shouted with a gun in her hand. “If you hit him again, I’m going to use this. And after you’re gone, I’m going to dig a nice little grave for you in the backyard. That way, no one will find you.”

  Now, any other time, a person with a gun aimed at me would have me frightened. But this chick knew better. She simply knew better, and as far as I was concerned, she may as well start digging my grave. I struck Malik in the face again. And after I hit him, I charged at her with the same pillow. Hit her so hard that the gun dropped from her hand and hit the floor.

  This time, Malik scrambled to pick it up, and then he grabbed my arm. “You have lost your damn mind! I use to think yo’ ass was crazy before, but you have really lost it. Don’t you ever come back here again, and as far as Kendal is concerned, she’s on her own. She made a decision to open her legs, and she can deal with it. I’m done with both of you.”

  Malik pulled me toward the door. I scratched at his hands, spit in his face, kicked his legs . . . did everything that I could to pay him back for everything he’d done. None of it seemed to bother him, and after he shoved me on the porch, he slammed the door shut.

  “If you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police and have you arrested. I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

  “With all those drugs up in there, I’m sure you wouldn’t want the cops over here either. But call them, Malik. If that’s what you want to do, call them! I’ll wait!”

  I stomped back to my car, waiting for at least fifteen minutes to see if the cops showed up. Malik was a fool, but he wasn’t a damn fool. He knew he wasn’t going to call the cops. Because, if he did, I would have him arrested; arrested for not making his child support payments, and for being thousands of dollars in arrears. When I thought about that, I realized what a big mistake it was for me to come here.

  * * *

  Later that night, I tossed and turned in my sleep, thinking about my horrific day. The news was on in the background, and when I heard the name Clinton Jackson, I thought I was dreaming. I jumped from my sleep and quickly sat up. The volume was too low, so I grabbed the remote from the nightstand, hurrying to turn it up.

  “We’ll have more on this story within the next hour,” the reporter said.

  I wanted to know now, so I hit the rewind button, causing the TV to go back to the beginning of the report. Many police officers were on the outside of Clinton’s apartment. Crime scene tape surrounded the front of the building. A body was being carried out in a body bag, while people in the neighborhood looked on.

  “A thirty-six-year-old man and his wife were found dead in their apartment today. It appears to be an apparent murder-suicide, where the woman pulled a gun on her husband, killing him before taking her own life. According to the neighbors, the couple had been very violent with each other. The police had been dispatched to the apartment several times, because the wife accused her husband, Clinton Jackson, of abuse. We’ll have more on this story within the next hour.”

  I sat on the bed stunned. This was so horrific and was too close to home. I felt bad for them both, but if Clinton was the man Velma told me he was, it was just a matter of time when things would explode. At least I knew that I hadn’t injured her in a major way that day. Then again, my actions could have sparked some of this. I probably pushed her over the edge. She had definitely had enough. I only wished that I could push Lajuanna over the edge. Brent was the one who needed to be dealt with. She needed to put a bullet in him too, but I guess that little task would be left up to me.

  * * *

  Over the weekend, I hadn’t done much. I was kind of numb from what had happened, and every time I looked in my closet or at my garage doors, all I thought about was Clinton. I also couldn’t help but to think if he was really HIV positive. What if he and I had had sex? I damn sure didn’t have any condoms handy. Brent and I never used them. I guessed that sometimes when things didn’t happen, we could only wonder why and just go with the flow. I was trying, but in my case, that was still very difficult for me to do. I needed help, though, help finding out where Brent was. He wasn’t going to get his happily-ever-after, especially, since I didn’t get mine.

  Just as I thought things were no longer looking up, there was a little hope. And one thing that I was sure would happen was Officer Eric Wayne and I would be getting it on real soon. I’d seen him casing the streets around here quite often. Sometimes, I went outside with a little bit of nothing on, just to get his attention. He always nodded; I waved. Today, however, when I was outside in a see-through pajama top and some very short shorts, he parked his car and got out. He walked up the driveway as I was bent over, picking up some tree branches that had fallen from the storm the other day. He removed his cap, holding it in his hand. Waves were flowing on his head for days.

  “How’s everything been going?” he asked while looking at me behind his dark shades. “Any problems lately?”

  “No, not really. I haven’t heard anything from my ex, and that’s a good thing. I may get a hang-up call every now and then, but for the most part, I think he has moved on. Then again, that may be wishful thinking.”

  Since the calls had stopped and Velma admitted to doing what she did, I had no worries. Brent and Lajuanna were off the hook. Officer Wayne didn’t have to know that, though.

  “I hope he has moved on,” he said. “Did you ever go get that restraining order against him?”

  “Unfortunately, I didn’t. As I said before, he moved. I don’t know where he lives, and you must know where a person lives so they can be served, don’t you?”

  “It helps, but again, most people can be found. He resides somewhere, for sure.”

  I wasn’t sure if he was hinting at finding out the information for me or not, but I would soon ask him to do it. As I’d said, I just wanted to make sure everything was good with the happy couple, since I hadn’t heard a peep out of them since court that day.

  “If anything comes up,” I said, “I’ll let you know. Maybe you can help me put my situation with him to rest, once and for all.”

  “Hey, anything you need, just let me know.”

  Damn, I thought as I looked at his lips. He put his cap back on and told me to enjoy the rest of my day. As he walked down the driveway, I called out to him.

  “Wait a minute. There is something else.” I walked down the driveway to meet him. Behind his glasses, I could see him looking at my nipples that were visible through my top. “I don’t know if you do any plumbing work, but one of the sinks inside is clogged. Do you have a minute or two to come inside and take a look?”

  A smirk appeared on his face. “It’s not my line of work, but let me see how clogged it is. Maybe I can send one of my friends over later to help you out.”

  “Or maybe, just maybe, you can figure out a way to fix it yourself.�
��

  “Maybe so.”

  I turned, and he followed behind me. As we entered the house, I made my way to the kitchen. I opened the cabinets underneath the sink, inviting him to take a look. He squatted, and I stood right beside him, my pussy was real close.

  “Turn on the water,” he said. “Let it run for a few minutes.”

  I did as I was told. The water ran for a few minutes, but the only thing that was clogged was my drain. Officer Wayne knew that too, and when his hands lightly touched my legs, I didn’t move.

  “Soft,” he said, looking up at me. “Just as I had imagined. I don’t have time to unclog your drain right now, but I get off around seven or eight. Will you be here?”

  “I’ll make sure I’m here. And thanks for coming inside to take a look at things for me.”

  He stood and looked directly at me. “The pleasure was all mine.”

  I walked him to the door, and after he left, I smiled like a Cheshire cat. I was eager for him to return, and if things went according to my plan, I would soon know where Brent had moved to.

  * * *

  By nine o’clock that night, I had finally gotten my wish. Eric was deep inside of me, stroking me fast with my legs high on his shoulders. He was not a gentle lover. My pussy was taking quite a beating. I wasn’t sure if I liked his aggressive approach or not.

  “Does it feel good to you?” he asked while pounding my insides.

  My head slammed against the headboard, and my legs felt weak as ever. I had no energy as I tried to keep up with his speedy pace. “It’s good, but slow down a bit,” I managed to say. “Wha . . . What’s the rush?”

  “I told my wife I would be home by ten. But I wanted to come here and play with you first.”

  He damn sure wasn’t playing. He was doing more than that, and as he started to come, things really got hectic. His head and neck started jerking back and forth. Ass muscles tightened and he flung my legs wide open. While holding them with his hands, he squeezed my ankles and growled like a tiger.