There was a soft tapping at Trena’s door.
Trena sprang up off the bed. “One minute!” She flung the covers over the bed and rushed to open the door.
Jeanette looked Trena over. “You planning on wearing your panties and that funky T-shirt to Manhattan?”
“No! I’ll be dressed in five minutes.” Filled with excitement, Trena ran off to her own private bathroom to wash up.
Nineteen
Sharise was shaking her head. “I don’t get it, Arnell. You say you want completely out of the business, yet you let your mother browbeat you into turning one last trick. One of these days, that one last trick is going to be the death of you. You—”
“Sharise,” Arnell said, annoyed, “please. You’re not telling me anything that I don’t already know.” Never mind what has already happened. “Don’t you think I hate myself for allowing my mother to dictate the path of my life? I get sick just opening my eyes every morning knowing that she’ll call me. I know I have to get far, far away from her, but—”
“That’s just it, Arnell. You should be able to live right next door to your mother and not take her shit or jump whenever she cracks the whip.”
“I don’t jump every time she—”
“Oh, yes, you do. No matter how pissed off you are with your mother, she calls you, you go running. I’m beginning to wonder about you. Are you scared of your mother?”
“Am I scared of you?”
“I don’t know, maybe you are, I just don’t know it.”
“Sharise, get serious.”
“I’m serious, Arnell. I think you’re scared of Queen Esther because she got something on you. Does she?”
“I know you’re not asking me that question.”
“Okay,” Sharise said. “I know about James, and I know that he doesn’t know about your past, but it’s not that deep. I have the same past. You act like there’s something more.” Sharise popped her fingers. “That’s it, isn’t it? Your mother is blackmailing you into doing what she wants, isn’t she?”
Arnell said nothing—she was too ashamed.
“What else does your mother have on you?”
Sighing heavily, Arnell got up from the window seat. She didn’t move away, she just stood looking out the window as the sun began to set on Sharise’s beautifully landscaped garden. The winding path of slate-gray cobblestones enhanced the beauty of the array of flowering plants, variegated shrubbery, and trees spaced throughout the large backyard. Sharise had at least an acre of land surrounding her colonial style house, which wasn’t too shabby in the shadow of the small mansion across the way.
Sharise stood next to Arnell.
“Your garden gets prettier every year,” Arnell said.
Sharise sat on the window seat with her back to the garden. “Arnell, I know you’re tired of hearing me bitch about your mother, but I know there’s something—”
“What you don’t understand, Sharise, is that a lot has gone on between me and my mother. Much of it you know about, but there are things that sicken me to dredge up in my own mind, much less talk about out loud.” Tears started to roll down her cheeks.
Sharise took Arnell’s left arm and pulled her down to sit next to her. “Arnell, I would never betray—”
“I can never talk about it.” Arnell looked down at her diamond. Its sparkle was too brilliant, too effervescent, too pure for her hand. She twisted the ring until the diamond was on the underside of her finger.
“That’s bad luck,” Sharise said.
“I should worry about that, huh? Humph. Once James knows the truth, he will not only never marry me, he will damn my soul to hell.”
“My God, Arnell. Is it that bad?”
“I’m ending the engagement.”
“But you love James, and he loves you.”
“Perhaps, but I should have never gotten together with James, that was a mistake.”
“You’re wrong. Falling in love is never a mistake.”
“It is when telling the truth can destroy that love.” Arnell was suddenly very tired. In the last week, she’d gotten very little sleep. “Look, Sharise, I have no choice. If I want my mother to stop blackmailing me, to stop using me, I have to end it with James.”
“Yeah, but . . . damn, Arnell, maybe you’re wrong about James. Maybe you’re not giving him enough credit. Remember how scared I was to tell Michael about my past? He surprised me—he didn’t leave me, and he’s never thrown any of it in my face.”
“I hope he never does.”
“He won’t, Michael loves me. That’s all there is. I think you should take a chance and tell James the truth. He might surprise you.”
Arnell began to laugh softly, but then her laughter turned to weeping. “If . . . anything, Sharise, I’ll surprise . . . the hell . . . out of James.”
“Oh, Arnell,” Sharise said, hugging her friend. “You don’t have to suffer like this.”
“That’s true, I don’t,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’m ending it with James.” Arnell eased back against the ledge of the window.
Sharise suddenly stood. “You need to kick that bitch’s ass!”
“Whatever Esther is, she’s still my mother.”
“Hell, the queen’s not my damn mother. I’ll kick that bitch’s ass for you!”
“Sharise, you better calm down. My godchildren are upstairs.”
“They’re sleeping. At least, they better be.” Sharise rushed out into the foyer to the bottom of the staircase. She tilted her head to listen for any sounds of two-year-old Alise or three-year-old Michael Jr. stirring above in their bedrooms. Hearing nothing, Sharise returned to the sun porch.
“Arnell, let’s take a very real look at Queen Esther. The way I see her, she’s mean, she’s cannibalistic. . .”
“Cannibalistic? Sharise, what the hell does that mean?”
“She’s been eating your ass, alive at that, since the day she prostituted you for rent money, and she’s a vulture because she’s still picking your bones.”
Arnell had to agree that no truer words had been spoken about her mother.
“Just think about it, Arnell. Queen Esther really isn’t your mother. Sure, she gave birth to you, but she isn’t your mother. No mother would do what she’s doing to you—not her own child.”
Pensively, Arnell wiped at the tears that began to flow again. She knew what Sharise was saying was true, but too much time and too many things—ugly things that maybe God could never even forgive her for—had gone on between her and Esther to easily break away from her.
Sharise again took Arnell’s hand. “Okay. Arnell, if it’s like bad, break it off with James, because your mother will always know how to fuck with you. Then break away from her. Move. Leave the country. As long as you’re in shouting distance, you will always be in contact with her. Change your name. Hell, get plastic surgery if you have to. Just get the hell away from the queen bitch before you lose your mind or worse, lose your life.”
Arnell knew there was no simple solution for dissolving her relationship with her mother—they only had each other. “I am not leaving the country, Sharise. I will not scurry away like some small animal that’s afraid of the big bad wolf.”
“Okay, maybe that suggestion was a bit much, but I do have another,” Sharise said. “You should move in here with me and Michael until you know what it is you’re going to do.”
“I can’t do that. Besides, I do have my own house, remember?”
“So, you could still stay with us for a while.”
Arnell shook her head. She didn’t want to hide behind anyone or anything anymore.
“Arnell, look at yourself—you’re crying. You need to get as far away from Esther as you can. Come. Stay here. Esther won’t bother you here. She knows better than to call my house. I’m not afraid of her or big ass Walt.”
Arnell couldn’t help but chuckle. The day that Sharise walked out on Esther, she had warned Sharise to keep her mouth shut about the mansion and what went on insid
e or she’d get hurt. Sharise told Esther, “I have a videotape of your sex den, and so does my lawyer and certain members of my family. And for good measure, there are backup copies in safe deposit boxes at two different banks. So fuck with me, and you’ll be the one that gets hurt.”
Esther had found herself at an impasse and neither she nor Sharise had spoken to each other since that day. Esther hated that Arnell was still friends with Sharise but Arnell didn’t care. Sharise was the first real friend she’d ever had.
“So, will you move in?”
“No.”
“Will you think about it?”
“Sharise, my mother will never let me go without making me and everyone around me miserable. I do not want anyone, especially you, caught up in my mess. Give me a moment, I’ll handle this on my own. Who knows, I may have to relocate to do that, but it will be my choice. Where? I don’t know, but I won’t be leaving any unfinished business behind. I will end it with my mother, and I will end it with James.”
“Damn, Arnell, I really don’t envy you.”
Arnell wiped her face completely dry. “Hey, I don’t envy myself. I’ve been messed up for a lot of years. I know I won’t be able to slay the mighty demon that stalks me, overnight.”
“Well, sis, I’m here for you. You don’t have to do it alone.”
Arnell and Sharise held onto each other’s hand.
“So,” Sharise said, covering Arnell’s hand with her other hand, “what do you have in mind for your mother?”
“I’m going to close her down.”
“Wow! You would go that far?”
“It’s time. Sharise, I’ve seen to what lengths my mother is willing to go to keep me an emotional and psychological prisoner, and what’s worse, I saw the new girl she found to replace Kitt, who, by the way, was kicked out because she got pregnant.”
“Kitt was always an airhead.”
“This is true, but my concern is for the new girl. She can’t be older than sixteen—the same age I was when Esther turned me out.”
“Damn, that’s foul. Arnell, we have got to stop your mother.”
Arnell smiled to herself. She heard the we that rolled off Sharise’s tongue. It wasn’t true anymore that she only had Esther. She had Sharise and Sharise had never let her down and even now, was willing to stand shoulder to shoulder with her in her fight against Esther. This was a good thing because she was going to need all the emotional support she could get. Esther was not going to go down easily. She would fight until her tongue was hanging from her mouth and she was lame and dragging her foot behind her. That kind of adversary Arnell wasn’t prepared for, although she well knew Esther’s weaknesses. She needed to get away and ready herself for the fight of her life.
“So where do we start?” Sharise asked eagerly. “I’ve got the evidence. I’m ready for the queen’s ass. All we have to do is call the district attorney. We could—”
Arnell’s stomach flipped. She cringed at the thought of her mother going to jail. “No.”
“But you said you wanted to close her down. By going to the DA, we could shut Queen Esther down for good.”
“Sharise, I cannot put my mother in prison. I could never live with that.”
“Hell, I could live with it.”
“I know, but prison is not an option, so forget it. This fight is between me and my mother. I can close her down without going to the DA.”
“How?”
“My mother has personal information on every client that steps through the door of the mansion. I have a duplicate copy.”
“Oh, I get it,” Sharise said, liking the idea. “Cut Esther off at the knees by stopping guys from patronizing The Honey Well. In other words, threaten to expose the men.”
“Their families, their business associates, any sensitive area there is.”
“That would do it.”
“Without a doubt,” Arnell said. “But before I declare all-out war against my mother, because war is what it will be once she figures out what I’m doing, I have to get my head ready. I think I’ll head upstate to the Catskills.”
“You’re going to that health spa? Are you kidding?”
“Nope.”
“Girl, this is no time for a beauty makeover.”
Arnell pulled her shoulder-length hair up off of her neck and twisted it into a bun. “Did you ever read The Stand by Stephen King?”
“What the hell does The Stand have to do with you going away to a health spa? There was no health spa in The Stand.”
“No, but if you remember, The Stand is about the forces of good and evil. As I see it, in this case, that’s me and my mother.”
“No argument there, but the health spa, Arnell? What the hell does the health spa have to do with anything?”
“Do you remember when Mother Abagail told Stu, Ralph, and Glen about going west to fight the evil one that was trying to take over the world?”
“And?” Sharise was impatient.
“Well, Mother Abagail impressed upon them that while they were on their journey west, they were not to eat any food or drink any water. That’s what God—”
“Arnell, you’re not journeying west, you’re going three hours north of the city. So—”
“Sharise, Mother Abagail was telling Stu that this is what God wanted them to do. Not eating or drinking would make them stronger. I’m going to the spa to fast. I’ll drink but I won’t eat any solid foods, especially after all the junk I ate a week ago. I haven’t felt well since. I’m going to cleanse my body, clear my mind, and get ready to do battle with my mother—the evil one.”
“Well, I guess I can understand that.”
Arnell was pensive. “Damn, Sharise. Doesn’t that sound terrible? ‘. . . do battle with my mother—the evil one’?”
“Yeah, well, isn’t it just as terrible that your mother chose to pimp you out when you were sixteen, instead of standing on the corner her damn self?”
There was no need for Arnell to answer that question. She hated dredging up thoughts of her early years prostituting to keep a roof over her and her mother’s heads. For one whole year, twice a week, she had sex with Mr. Hershfeld, who never took off a stitch of his black clothes, and for one whole year, twice a week, she threw up afterward. It never got any easier to open her thighs to a man that rammed himself inside her and grunted his release like a braying donkey. When it first started, when Mr. Hershfeld was done, he’d get up quickly and leave. After a few months, he started lingering several minutes too long, and saying annoyingly nice things like, “thank you,” and “I enjoy you.” His words didn’t make Arnell feel any better, nor did the presents of expensive jewelry left behind on the dresser—which Esther took. The rent payments were never mentioned again. By the end of the year, Esther had figured out how to use other girls who needed a place to lay their heads, to make money. That was a lot of years ago, but Arnell felt so tense inside, it was like it had happened yesterday.
At the time, Arnell did what she thought she had to do, what her mother told her to do. Sure, she had regrets, but she learned early in life that she could never go back and put her life on a different path. What was done was done. It’s what she had yet to do that was of concern to her now. Going up against her mother was not a task she looked forward to.
Twenty
Jeanette had been right about Trena, she was itching to lose her virginity. Esther watched Trena and Andrew Peebles barely move their feet as they called themselves dancing to Grover Washington’s passionate rendition of the “Flower Duet.” Even from where she was sitting, Esther could see Andrew pressing his hard-on into Trena’s hot triangular patch and Trena wasn’t pulling away. A week’s training was about to pay off. Trena was grinding Andrew just as hard as he was grinding her. Yep, Trena was a hot little miss who was still claiming that she was not a virgin and thought she was fooling people about her age. Eighteen. Ha! She was sixteen if she was a day, and probably a runaway, but Esther was desperate to replace Kitt and didn’t have the time to
look around. If anyone ever accused her of pimping a minor, she could say, honestly, that Trena swore she was eighteen.
As she had done with all her girls, Esther schooled Trena on how to take care of herself—condoms, whether it was the mouth or the vagina—condoms. Hopefully, Trena wasn’t as stupid as Kitt. But just in case, so that there would be no more mistakes, Esther took Andrew Peebles aside and warned him about not using condoms in her establishment. He swore that he wouldn’t mess up again and Esther let it go at that. When she saw him whisper something into Trena’s ear and Trena giggled and started toward the stairs, Esther knew that Trena would get a nice tip before the night was over. Andrew had paid to be with her for the rest of the evening.
Sitting on the edge of her bed in a skimpy bra and G-string, her arms crossed tightly across her chest, Trena froze as Andrew Pebbles, butt-naked, walked right up to her, straddled her thighs, and stuck his huge erect penis barely six inches from her face. Giggling nervously, Trena kept looking bashfully away as Andrew unlocked her arms and took her right hand and kept trying to get her to take hold of his penis. The first time she touched it, its heat and its heaviness startled her, unnerving her. She yanked her hand away. As many times as she had touched Omar through his pants, she never imagined that his penis was that hot or that heavy.
Andrew squeezed his buttocks in and pushed forward, touching Trena’s right cheek with his penis. “Baby, I’m ready for you.”
Aghast, Trena lurched sideways away from the hot, jerky penis. “Don’t do that!” She wiped hard at her cheek.
“Then hold it,” Andrew said, again trying to put his penis into Trena’s hand. “Come on, baby girl, hold onto your lollipop. I want you to lick it and suck it like it’s your favorite flavor.”
Trena giggled. “That’s nasty.”
“No, baby, this is good. Here, hold it.” Andrew roughly took hold of Trena’s hand and shoved his penis into it. She tried to pull away but Andrew held her hand around the shaft so that she couldn’t move. Squirming, Trena tried to open her hand. Andrew wouldn’t let her as he slid his penis against her soft palm. Closing his eyes, Andrew began sucking in his breath between his teeth.
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