“Why don’t you go there to get your hair done?”
“Girl, I see enough of them on holidays. If they were doing my hair, they’d be all up in my business.”
“I know that’s right. Why do women run their mouths when they go to a salon?”
“I don’t know, girl. It must have something to do with the fact that women come in there all tore up, no makeup, expecting to leave like glamour queens.”
A waiter passes us drinks and I greedily take two. Jazz gives me the eye, but I ignore her. She is used to being on display. I, on the other hand, am not.
“So tell me about the brothers.”
“Uncle Rufus is the quiet one, always thinking. He’s retired from the railroad. Marvin is retired too but I swear I never knew what he did. I don’t think anybody knows for sure. All I remember is that he always had money and wasn’t stingy with it. He was the one who bought the beauty shop. Uncle Marvin looks after Aunt Rosa. He’s the only one who can stand to be around her for more than an hour or two. Uncle Maceo probably hasn’t worked a day in his life. He’s the player. He’s had more women than Carter has liver pills and still considers himself to be a pimp.”
“I can believe that. He keeps staring at me.”
“Girl, he’s harmless. He got drunk at Christmas one time and told us the only way his dick would stand up by itself is if he is hanging upside down.” Caught off-guard by a visual, I spit half my drink on the lawn. Jazz pats me on the back until I can breathe normally again.
“Girl, you damn near killed me with that one.”
“Hey, I’m just telling it like he told us. We were sitting around the kitchen table after the other uncles and Aunt Rosa left and out of nowhere, he started talking. To this day, I don’t think he remembers saying that to us because he sure be getting his mack on every time a skirt walks past him.”
Jazz goes to check on her mother, and I just wander around. Everyone is eating, so I start to feel more at home. I feel stupid for getting all worked up about this party in the first place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it darn sure wasn’t the open-armed reception that I received. A genuine smile is on my face as I fix myself a plate and the smile gets bigger when I see Buddy come in the gate. Putting my plate to the side, I rush to greet him.
“Hey, baby!” I give him a big hug and a kiss on the lips.
“How ya doing, beautiful? You okay?”
“I’m fine. I worked myself up into a tizzy for nothing.”
“See, I told you.”
“Yeah, you did. I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it.”
“Honey, wild horses could not have kept me away.” He kisses my cheek, squeezing my hand.
“You hungry? I was just fixing my plate.”
“I’m good. Where is Jazz and Ms. Andrea?”
“In the house, I think.” I want to introduce him to my new family, but I’m not sure what to call him. I don’t want to say my friend and possibly offend Buddy, but I don’t want to call him my fiancé either because he hasn’t said those magical words yet, defining our relationship, so I say nothing. What I didn’t know was that Buddy had already met the family some years before.
Everyone is having fun, including me. Buddy and I dance to a few records amid the catcalls of Uncle Maceo, and there is a lively game of cards going on at the picnic table. I am happy and feeling secure like I’d never felt in my life. Suddenly, I’m a part of a family.
“Baby, I gotta run.” I look at my watch and realize that Buddy has stayed a lot longer than he had planned and would have to seriously hustle to make it to the club on time.
“Wow, look at the time. Thanks for sharing this with me. Will you be coming over after your set?”
“That’s my plan unless something comes up at the last minute. I’ll call you and let you know either way.”
“Okay.” I walk him to the gate as he nods to the family. He stops and hugs Jazz and Andrea. We almost make it to the gate when Uncle Maceo lifts his head up off the table.
“Hey, Jazz, ain’t that the young fellow that was sniffing your drawers a few years back?” Silence fills the yard. Suddenly there are no buzzing insects, even the music stops. Once again all eyes are on me and I just want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
“Uncle Maceo, stop trying to start shit with your drunk ass. Buddy is a long-standing friend of the family. I introduced him to Sammie.” Good looking out, sis. We start to move toward the gate again, feeling relieved.
“Umph. Like mother, like daughter. Marvin, I’m ready to go.” Aunt Rosa gets up from the table and beats us out the gate, giving us her ass to kiss.
Tarcia
When I wake up, I’m on a stretcher in the parking lot with an oxygen mask on my face. The whole building is now in flames and firefighters are running back and forth trying to contain the blaze. I watch everything I’d worked for go up in smoke. I am still in shock, unwilling to believe how quickly my life has changed from sugar to shit.
Around me, I can hear my neighbors crying and demanding answers, but I am too stunned to speak. I can’t even remember how I got out. The last thing I remember is looking for somebody, but I can’t remember whom. Lifting the mask, I search the crowd for my cousin, but don’t see her. While I watch the building crumble before me, I am battered with mixed emotions. I hate that building. It represents all that my life has become since I had gotten involved with Kentee. Now, I don’t even have that. What am I going to do now?
When Kentee and I first got together, I thought my whole life was about to change. He moved me out of the projects where I had been living with my mother and brothers and into a beautiful house. He said he was going to take care of me and our baby and that we wouldn’t want for anything. And in the beginning, I didn’t.
We had a quiet wedding and a small reception, with just my mother attending. He told me that all of his family lived out of town and could not make it in time for the ceremony. He was attentive, always home on time, and I never had to wonder where he was.
But that quickly changed when he found out that I wasn’t pregnant after all. He accused me of trying to trap him, which I vehemently denied. Things began to change after that and not for the better. I try to focus on the chaos around me now, but I cannot get past the pain in my heart caused by Kentee. I wouldn’t have been in this damn apartment if it weren’t for him. First we lost the house, then I discovered while he was in jail that not only were we not married, but he had another family on the other side of town. If I were smarter, I would have cut my losses then, but I loved him so I stayed. Lying to myself that things would get better, I excused his many absences and his lack of attention. I even babysat his children. Oh my God, where are the children?
Jumping up from the stretcher, I start running from cluster to cluster, looking for them. I remember pulling Kayla out of the apartment and going back for the twins. They have to be here somewhere if I made it out.
I look around at the faces of my neighbors and I shiver from the cold looks they are giving me. I am used to those looks and focus on finding the kids and getting my hands on Kentee. Already I am scheming on a way to use this mishap to reclaim my place in his life.
If I were paying attention, I would’ve seen them huddled with my next-door neighbor while crying to someone on the phone. But at the moment, they are just pawns to be used to get what I really want—Kentee.
I see them just as a short wiry lady with graying hair parts the chaos and starts toward the kids. They start yelling louder, so my confused mind thinks she is trying to harm them.
I feel the penetrating eyes of my neighbors as we all watch our possessions go up in smoke. The firemen are trying to push us farther away from the apartment building, but I am on a mission. Pushing them aside, I fight to get the kids away from the stranger, but to my chagrin, they start yelling and screaming at me as if I were trying to harm them.
However, the kids’ obvious love for this woman and their disdain for me starts to work my n
erves. I was the one who saved them from the fire. They should be showing me some love, instead of siding with her. She turns her back on me, using her body as a shield for the children as I keep punching her in the back. I catch a glimpse of her face as she tries to usher them into her car. She reminds me of Leah and that pisses me off.
“Get away from my children,” I scream, charging the older woman with all the energy I have left.
I hit her high in the chest and we both tumble to the ground. The wind is knocked out of me, but grandma has something for my ass. She starts whaling on me like I stole something and I cower from her blows.
“They…are…my…babies…bitch, now leave us the fuck alone!”
Malik, Mya, and Kayla all gang up on me and I find myself in the fetal position trying to defend my face. Recognizing defeat, I stay in position until the blows stop raining down on my body. Once again, I slip into a fog.
The firemen managed to save the majority of the building, but I’ve lost everything. Everything that was not burned was damaged by water.
The paramedics are attending to the scratches and welts I sustained both from the fire and the fight. Grandma and the kids are still there watching me, but the fight in me is gone. My reality slaps me in the face. I have nothing but the clothes on my back. No money, no identification, no credit or bank cards…nothing, and nowhere to go. To take things to a different level, I lost my damn book!
Anger is blossoming in my heart and my throat feels raw from the smoke and the yelling. I look at my watch and realize that Kentee has been gone over five hours. What am I supposed to do? I start to cry like I have never cried before. His children are strangely quiet and lower their gaze whenever I look at them, all except Mya. Her eyes appear to mock me and I am fighting the impulse to strike her, but she is protected by her grandmother and I would not mess with her again.
Mya started the fire. I know it in my heart of hearts, even though the firemen said it is too early to tell. But to me, it only makes sense. The fire was concentrated on the sofa when I entered the living room. Fires don’t just start in the middle of a room without a little help.
That little heifer was trying to tell me that she didn’t want to be in my house any more than I wanted her there! Suddenly, her fingers open and she drops the lighter that she has been holding. It is the same lighter that was on the coffee table when the kids got to the apartment. She smiles for the first time since I’ve known her. That smile chills me to the bone and I start to shake. My last thought before losing consciousness is Gotcha.
Kentee
“Damn, Tarcia is going to be all up in my shit,” I mutter to myself as I wheel around the corner after exiting 285. The need for speed is flowing through my veins much like the coke that I snorted earlier. I know I should have never tried the product, but I had to make sure I was getting some quality shit, so one thing led to another and now I am high as a kite.
I’m in the doghouse and no doubt my children are starving. Passing McDonald’s, I resist the temptation to go in and order three Happy Meals because a sense of urgency that I cannot explain is propelling me to pick up my kids. I only wish that urgency had raised its head before I snorted all that coke.
I don’t believe in psychic connections, but something is pushing me forward faster than I need to be traveling, especially since I am buzzing. I need time to get my story straight but my foot feels like it is weighted to the gas pedal and it is taking all of my concentration to stay on the road.
My heart is racing but I attribute it to the drugs. Suddenly I realize that I’m very afraid. Something isn’t right and it isn’t just the fact that I am late picking up my children.
“Get the hell out of the street,” I yell to a man who innocently chose this moment to jaywalk. I lay on the horn, which apparently scares him more than my high rate of speed. “Idiot,” I yell back at his receding figure. He gives me the finger and I give it right back to him. When I turn back around to look at the road, I barely have time to stop at the traffic light.
“Whew. Talk about luck.” I accelerate this time with a little more caution and care. Getting killed would not help in this situation. I don’t question where this parental concern is coming from because truth be told, if I was all that concerned, I would never have left them with Tarcia in the first place. Thankfully, I am only a few blocks away so I start rehearsing my lie.
“Baby, I am so sorry that I took so long. I was waiting at the drop to make the pick-up. Ole dude was late.” I decide to keep it short and sweet because the longer the lie, the more likely I am to fuck it up. I just want to give my line, break her off a little dope, and get the hell on. If I can stick to the script I can be in and out in ten minutes.
“What the fuck…” My voice trails off as my eyes try to adapt to the chaos in front of me. My brain seemingly disconnects from my body as I watch firefighters sift through the rubble. The building where Tarcia lived is no more. Throwing the car in park, I jump out.
“Where are my babies?” I scream. My heart is slamming against my chest as tears flood my eyes. All the people who are standing around look lost, but I do not see my kids. I begin praying like I have never prayed before.
I rush through the crowds hoping to see a familiar face, or someone who could tell me what happened. Frantic, I grab the arm of a fireman. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Some smoke inhalation, but nothing serious. No one was transported.”
“Thanks.” I spin around and see Kayla sitting on the curb with her head in her hands. Next to her sit Mya and Malik, both with vacant expressions on their faces. They look like they have just survived a war.
“Thank you, Jesus,” I say, looking up to the sky as I rush toward my children without noticing their grandmother. I pull them all to me, but their arms hang limply at their sides as if they don’t have the energy to hug me back. I am so relieved to find them safe. I feel as if I am being given a second chance.
“We are okay, Daddy. Grandma saved us.” Kayla’s words sound like an accusation.
I start to usher my children to my car, wanting to get as far away from this destruction as possible. In my haste, I’ve completely forgotten about Tarcia. My children are safe; that is the important thing. I would question them later after I’d gotten them something to eat. Needless to say, my buzz was gone.
With the kids in the car, I attempt to go around and get into the driver’s seat when I feel this searing pain in the back of my neck. Then Tarcia jumps me and is riding me like I am a horse. She is screaming, but her words are garbled and I can’t understand what she is saying. We tumble to the ground and I manage to get her underneath me. She loosens her grip, but the pain in my neck continues.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
Pushing myself off her prone body, I raise my hand to the back of my neck. My fingers feel wet and when I look at them, they are covered in blood. The pain is intense, but I don’t know what the source of it is. Tarcia is huffing and puffing like a slave.
“You and your damn kids,” she says in a deep and demented tone that I’d never heard her use. She appears possessed and consumed with anger and I want to get away as fast as possible. I begin backpedaling to the car, as this is not the time nor the place for a physical altercation. My luck, I’d wind up back in jail. I touch my neck again because it feels like the blood is going down my arm. My hand touches an object that cuts my finger.
“What have you done?” I scream at her in disbelief.
Feeling dizzy, I begin sliding down the side of the car. Tarcia stares as if she is enjoying my pain. She has a sly smile on her face as if she has a secret she isn’t willing to share. Darkness takes over as I fall to the ground. I can hear my children crying, but I couldn’t get up if I tried. I try to focus on their words and when I do, my body freezes. There aren’t screaming for their daddy to get up or asking if I am okay; they are calling for their mother. I feel like they are saying, “Fuck Daddy. We want our mommy.”
Tarcia
&n
bsp; I saw Kentee weaving through the crowd, and I assumed his anguished expression was for me. Boy was I wrong, because all of those worry lines disappeared when he found his children. He gathered them up in his arms, and then he was leaving without even checking to see if I lived or died. Something in me snapped. I wanted to hurt him beyond repair. The next thing I knew, I was hanging on his back with the jagged edge of a beer bottle jutting out of his neck. I wanted to kill him. In hindsight, it was my selfishness that kept me from understanding his actions, but that glimmer of knowledge does not help me one bit now.
I have to wait in jail until he regains consciousness and to see what kind of time I am facing as a result of my assault on Kentee. I really wasn’t trying to kill him, I just wanted him to acknowledge me and my pain. I was tired of taking a backseat to his children and that fucking Leah.
I punch and pull at the small pillow that they gave me and try to get comfortable. I am lucky that I don’t have to share my cell with anyone. I’ve heard horror stories about what goes on in the prison system and I’m more than a little afraid. I pray for sleep and an early court time. I am hopeful that Kentee will come to my rescue.
But on the off chance that he does not come through, I have my own backup, and if I have to resort to those measures, Kentee better watch his ass! Irritated beyond belief, I start to act a fool.
“Where is my phone call?” I demand in my most commanding voice. I have to say it three or four times before I get an answer.
“Lady, you need to shut the hell up,” the guard says.
“I know my rights. I watch Law and Order. I deserve a phone call.”
“Law and Order is television. This here ain’t no make-believe. You are in here for the real deal and you will get a phone call when I say you get a phone call.”
“You are violating my rights.”
Fool, Stop Trippin' Page 16