Butterfly

by Sylvester Stephens

  “Get up, Andre.”

  “Shhh!”

  Although I had a big crush on Andre, I did not want to lose my virginity like that. “Get up!”

  “Come on, Ida.”

  I pushed his chest with both of my hands but he did not budge. “Get off of me!”

  Andre did not respond to me; instead, he held my hands above my head and pulled my shirt up. He sucked my breasts into his mouth and squeezed extremely hard on my nipples. It was anything but pleasurable. I screamed for him to stop but he was like a crazed dog.

  He ripped my shirt from my body and then pulled my pants down. I tried to resist him but Andre was a big guy and after a while, I was too exhausted to fight. All that I could do was try and keep my legs closed. He pulled out his penis and tried to force it inside of me. I screamed, cried, fought, but nothing I did was going to stop him from doing what he wanted to do that day.

  I squirmed at the point of penetration, and then I felt the total impact of his thrust and I was paralyzed. It was tremendously painful. He was rough and rammed me as hard as he could.

  “Please, Andre, stop it! I don’t want to!” I cried.

  “You like it? Huh? It feels good, don’t it?”

  “No! No, it hurts! Stop it!”

  His body was moving so hard on top of me that it caused me bruises. He moaned loudly and then his body relaxed. He rolled off of me and onto the floor. He breathed heavily with his pants around his ankles and private parts still exposed. I balled in the fetal position and cried hysterically.

  “What’s wrong with you, Ida?”

  Hearing Andre’s voice made me go from the mindset of a victim to an angry-as-hell vigilante, and I ran to the kitchen and picked up a knife. I ran back into the living room, put the knife to Andre’s neck and screamed as loud as I could, “If you ever put your hands on me again, niggah, I will kill you!”

  I grabbed my clothes and took a long shower. I packed my suitcase and got the hell out of that house...

  END SPARKLE’S STORY

  • • •

  “I never stayed another night in a foster care home. It was me against the world. I won a few times, but the world won an awful lot. But over the years I have met others who have had different experiences with foster care homes. Some were adopted and some just felt, great gratitude for the people who took the time to care for them. I just came to terms that some bad people are going to abuse good situations.”

  “Damn, so you were raped?”

  “Is that all you got out of my story?”

  “That’s enough, don’t you think?”

  “No. My point is that everybody has been through something. But if you continue to blame the world, or somebody in particular, it’s not hurting them; it’s hurting you. They’re going to move on and you’re going to be stuck in the same miserable place.”

  “But ain’t you mad at that Andre boy for what he did to you?”

  “I was. I was mad for a very long time, but not anymore.”

  “How can you not be mad when that boy took your virginity from you like that?”

  “Time heals all wounds. And for those who cannot forget their painful past, they will forever live in pain. It was more painful for me to dwell on what happened, than it was to finally let it go and start living my life.”

  “So you’re not angry anymore?”

  “Nope.”

  “So what would you do if you saw that boy right now?”

  “Get out this car and cut his shit off!” Sparkle and I laughed.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “All kidding aside, I want you to do good with these people. Don’t disrespect them and give them a chance to help you.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious, they’re good people and they can help you.”

  “A’ight.”

  “No, don’t a’ight me; speak correctly.”

  “All right.”

  “I want you to promise me you won’t pull any tricks in school and get thrown out.”

  “I promise.”

  “I’m serious, the only way you’re going to be anything in life is to get an education. I know what I’m talking about.”

  “I will, I promise. Now can I ask you a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “It’s best that you don’t know where I am, Shante. I know Harry and he’s going to come after the both of us. He knows all of my spots. That’s why I have to get out of town.”

  “Why can’t you come stay with us?”

  “I can’t bring my problem to that family.”

  “He’s looking for me, too.”

  “That’s true. But he doesn’t know anywhere you could be, but with me. That’s why he came to my apartment the last time. He’ll think you’re with me and that’s why I have to get far away from this city.”

  “Will I ever see you again?”

  “One day.”

  “Okay. Can you tell me about these Powell people?”

  Sparkle told me when she left Michigan and caught the bus to Atlanta, she had no money, nothing to eat and nowhere to stay. She ended up going to the Powells’ church for help and they took her in. They let her stay with them for a few years until they caught her and their son in the bed together. They were madly in love and wanted to get married but they were too young. Sparkle was embarrassed and moved out on her own. The Powells advised her not to do it, but she did and they were disconnected until she talked to them on my behalf.

  I felt better and Sparkle drove me to her friends’ house. She explained my situation to them and they were happy to let me stay. We went to the Division of Family and Children Services, and in no time at all, the Powells officially became my foster parents. Sparkle hung around long enough to make sure I was safe and secure with them, and then she disappeared from my life like everyone else. She did not leave any forwarding information.

  Speaking of the Powells, they were a longtime married couple in their mid-sixties. Mr. Powell was a pastor and Mrs. Powell was a retired schoolteacher. Mr. Powell lived comfortably off of his church salary, and he was very devoted. Mrs. Powell went to church almost every night of the week with Mr. Powell and made sure we had three square meals a day. She also set me on the path to speaking and writing grammatically.

  The Powells were the exact same age, sixty-six. But Mr. Powell was a mature sixty-six whereas Mrs. Powell was a youthful sixty-six. I appreciated, and learned from them both, for being who they were. They had one grown son, Stanley, who lived in California and rarely visited so I was like a prodigal child returning. They were very nice people and I became close to them, very quickly. I affectionately called Mrs. Powell, Ma, and Mr. Powell, Reb, short for Reverend.

  Initially, I suspected two things: one, they were as happy to get the foster check as they were to get me. Two, I was going to have my way in that household with those old-ass people. I was wrong on both counts. A week after I was there, I tried my first stunt.

  “Good night, Reb.”

  “Good night, Shante,” Reb said as he locked the front door.

  I pretended I was going to bed and waited for Reb to cut off all of the lights in the house and go to bed, too. I tiptoed out of my bedroom and down the stairs. I was not going to try to go out of the front door because it squeaked and made a lot of noise when it was opened and closed. Instead, I had left a window unlocked in the kitchen and climbed out.

  I went out feet first and by the time my toes touched the ground, my head was also coming out where I could see the outside. I looked both ways; the coast was clear. I closed the window and tiptoed toward the front of the house. As I passed the porch, I heard Reb say, “So where we going tonight?”

  He scared the living hell out of me! I stopped in my tracks and I did not move.

  “What’s the matter?” Reb laughed. “You look like I done scared the living hell outta ya.”

  “I...I...I was just, um...”

  “What? You thou
ght the old man was just a pushover, didn’t you?”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, no, sir.”

  “So, where you going?”

  “I was just going down the street to hang with some of my friends. We weren’t going to do anything, but just hang out.”

  “Hang out where, child? Ain’t nothin’ good happenin’ this time of night.”

  “It’s only eight o’clock, Reb.”

  “Right! God go to bed at eight! So if you ain’t did what you need to do by eight o’clock at night, it ain’t got nothin’ to do with the good Lord!”

  “Uh, okay.”

  “So what you think we should do about this?”

  “About what?”

  “About you tryin’ to escape?”

  “I mean, I didn’t go anywhere so I don’t think we should do anything.”

  “Think again!” Reb stood up and gestured for me to follow him.

  “Damn!” I whispered under my breath.

  Reb made me sit down while he practiced his next week’s sermon on me. Every time I looked as if I was falling asleep, he would elevate his voice and wake me up.

  “And Jesus said, ‘Judge not that ye shall be judged, for with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged!’” Reb screamed.

  I almost jumped out of that damn chair! All of the screaming woke Ma, and she came downstairs to find out what the hell was going on.

  “What is all this screaming and yelling going on down here?”

  “We havin’ church, old lady.”

  “We who?”

  “Me and the girl.”

  “What did you do, Shante?”

  “I, uh, I tried to sneak out.”

  Ma looked at me and I gave her a look like, please, please help me! But instead of helping me, she went the other way.

  “Hmm,” Ma looked at Reb, “preach on, Preacher!”

  Ma turned around and went back upstairs. Her approval seemed to inspire the Reb because he turned it up a notch or two.

  I tried a few more escapes and Reb caught me every single time. I think he looked forward to catching me as much as I looked forward to getting out of that house. It had gotten to the point where we did not have to speak when he caught me. I would follow him into the living room and just sit in my chair. He would open his Bible and start preaching. In all honesty, after a while, I kind of looked forward to hearing my own personal sermons.

  • • •

  As far as my education was concerned, I became a student of the DeKalb County School System. I went to a rough school. I was tough and from the streets, but these kids were an entirely different animal.

  The first person I met was a girl named Keisha Warren. Keisha was short, I mean really short, like four feet eleven or five feet tops. She had a strange hairstyle, like a peacock. At the top, and toward the back of the head, her hair stood straight in the air and it was blue. Yeah, I said blue! She had a brown complexion, not light, or dark, kind of like my complexion. We met my first day when I was trying to figure out how to catch the Metro Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority, or what we Atlantans call MARTA, from the school to downtown. I grew up in southwest Atlanta, also known as the SWATS, and I was not quite familiar with DeKalb County or MARTA.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “What’s up?” Keisha said.

  “How do I get to Lenox mall from here?”

  “Get on the MARTA train and go west to the Five Points station. You’re going to have to get off at the Five Points station and then catch the North train to the Lenox station. When you get off there, the mall is only like a few blocks away.”

  “Can I see the mall from the train station?”

  “Yeah, you should.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “I’m about to go to Perimeter Mall so I can show you where to get off.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Shante, but they call me Butterfly.”

  “Butterfly? That’s a strange nickname. Why they call you that?”

  “It’s a name my father gave me when I was a baby.”

  “It’s cool, though. My name is Keisha, and they call me Keisha.” Keisha chuckled.

  “All right, Keisha.”

  We got on the train and Keisha was like a pro. She was not afraid of the weirdos at all. I sat by the window and she sat on the aisle. Keisha decided to get off at the Lenox station with me instead of going all the way to Perimeter Mall. From that day on, she was my official best friend.

  • • •

  For the remainder of my junior year, I was a normal teenager with normal responsibilities and expectations. Reb made sure I legally obtained my driver’s license, but when I did, I became the official gopher for the family. It was a long, black 2005 Cadillac. But I drove that joint like it was a Mustang!

  Ma knew how to drive but refused to drive herself with me in the house. So, I either drove for her, or drove her, to all the places she wanted to go. I didn’t mind, though, they truly felt like my grandparents. They disciplined me with love and followed with an explanation for their discipline. They embraced and loved me and never made me feel like an outsider. Oh, and did I mention that they showed me plenty of love? And I loved them just as much.

  My friend Keisha introduced me to a few of her friends: Jacqua Dortch, Toya Laury and Janae Johnson. One day after school we were listening to music over Keisha’s house and it got way out of control.

  Toya and Janae were cousins. Toya was about five feet three, small waist, big butt, small breasts, flat stomach, long straight hair, and dark skin with Asian-looking eyes. People said she looked like a baby doll.

  Jacqua was an inch or two taller than Toya. She was dark-skinned, too. She was not as flamboyant as Toya with her looks, but in my opinion, she was even prettier. She was thicker, and when she said hers was “in all the right places,” it was. Jacqua also had long hair, but she kept her hair styled every week.

  Janae, now Janae was a different story. She was like five-ten, or five-eleven, close to my height. She towered over the rest of them. She was thick, but she was thick-thick, and not toned-thick like Jacqua. Her hair was very short, but it was styled. She was light-skinned with a skinny nose and full lips. The boys liked her lips because they were always making obscene comments about them, comments that Janae seemed to enjoy.

  Jacqua and Janae had boyfriends, but Toya had a girlfriend and a boyfriend. All of them were sexually active, but I was still a virgin. I had more life experiences than them, but they had way more sexual experiences than me.

  As she normally did, Keisha snuck her stepdad’s car out of the garage and went to the store for snacks. While she was gone, my other friends decided to show me how to kiss and prepare me for my first sexual experience.

  “I can show you how to kiss, Butterfly,” Toya offered.

  “How are you going to show me?”

  “Open your mouth and close your eyes.” Toya moved closer to me and I could feel her breath on my lips. “You ready?”

  “Ready for what?”

  She moved closer and smacked me on the lips. “This.”

  Toya rotated her head from side to side and kissed me over and over again. It felt good! It felt warm and I had like this tingling sensation. She slowly slipped her tongue into my mouth and I could feel the moisture of her kiss. “And this!”

  Eventually, I started to kiss back and we kissed more passionately, twirling our tongues around in each other’s mouths.

  “Da-yum!” Janae shouted as she covered her mouth and jumped up and down. “She all up in your mouth, Butterfly!”

  “Shut up, Janae, and just watch ’em,” Jacqua said.

  “Mmm,” Toya moaned as she pulled me closer to her. I could feel her breasts pressed against mine. It was an awkward, but pleasant feeling.

  We kissed for a long time while Janae and Jacqua quietly watched us. Toya lay back and opened her legs. She pulled me on top of her and we
started to grind. Toya reached between my legs and I moved her hand away. “We better quit before Keisha get back.”

  “Damn, that looked sexy!” Janae patted between her legs. “I’m wet as hell.”

  “Me, too,” Jacqua added.

  “I thought y’all didn’t like girls, Jacqua.”

  “I don’t, Toya, but after watching y’all, I might have to rethink the whole girl-on-girl situation.”

  “I ain’t never said I didn’t like girls; I just got a boyfriend right now,” Janae said.

  “Here y’all go.” Keisha walked in with a bag full of fast-food and passed it around. “What y’all doing in here?”

  “Man, ain’t nobody doing nothing!” Janae said. “Hey, who paid for the food?”

  “Me,” I said.

  “I’m gon’ pay you back tomorrow, Butterfly, when I make my money.” Janae unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite.

  “Where you work at?”

  “Well,” Janae looked at Toya and smiled, “I keep it on the low-low.”

  “She runs an escort service!” Jacqua shouted.

  I looked at Jacqua and then Janae waiting for one of them to tell me that Jacqua was joking, but they gave each other a high-five and took a bite from their sandwiches.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Yeah, they’re kidding,” Keisha snapped. “Stop telling all your business, Janae.”

  “Keisha just want to make you think we’re good girls, Butterfly. Ain’t none of us good girls.”

  “I am!” Keisha sat on the bed next to me. “You crazy if you believe all these stories these fools telling you.”

  “You wanna make some money, Butterfly?” Janae asked.

  “Hell naw! I’m not going to be no escort!”

  “You don’t have to be no escort. All you have to do is be a lookout.”

  “That’s okay. Butterfly’s not interested.”

  “You can’t speak for her, Keisha! You don’t know what she wanna do.”

  “Not that I would, but just out of curiosity, if I’m not an escort, what would I be doing and how much would I be getting paid?”

  “You’ll be the lookout and you’ll get twenty-five percent of everything I make.”

  “Where do you escort?”

  “At school.”