Trey was the total opposite of Understanding; he didn’t cheat on me, he doted on me with affection and attention, never material things. As a matter of fact, I started noticing that he never had any money. I didn’t understand it, he worked as a manager in a telemarketing firm and there was no reason for him to be broke all the time. He didn’t have to pay any rent, I was still on Section 8 and collecting welfare, so we should have been living large. Well, I got my answer one day when I was doing laundry and felt something in his pockets.
What I pulled out shocked me: cocaine, wrapped up in aluminum foil. I started to flush it down the toilet but decided to try it instead. That was the worst thing I could have done, but I didn’t know it at the time.
I had two girlfriends, Lisa, a newly acquired friend, and Dana, a childhood friend, whom I chilled with occasionally and they both did cocaine. They were always talking about how good it made them feel, how they would have all this energy and be amped up. They claimed the sex was better when they were high and they would clean the house from top to bottom. They offered it to me a couple of times but I’d always said no. By now Shantay was doing drugs heavily and had given birth to a little boy that was born addicted. He was taken away along with my niece.
I know that sounds fucked up, the fact that I let my niece and nephew get taken away, but I felt like they weren’t my responsibility and that maybe this would make Shantay get her act together.
Well, the day I found the cocaine I was tired, had been cleaning and taking care of my son and daughter, I had to cook something to eat, and just wanted to lay my ass down. I thought about what Dana and Lisa said about cocaine making them feel like Superwoman, and decided to try it. I wanted to find out what it was about this drug that turned people out. I figured I was mentally strong, I knew better, it wouldn’t have the same effect on me.
I went into the kitchen and poured some of it on the table, making lines like I’d seen them do with a matchbox, cut up a straw, and sniffed some up each nostril.
“Oh shit!” I said out loud. It burned the hell out of my nose and went straight to my head. After rubbing my nose a few times, I took a couple more hits and waited to feel a surge of energy. After a while my heart started racing and I started sweating. I was paranoid. I stood up and started pacing the floor, threw some water on my face, and sat back down. My daughter and son were in the living room watching a movie while I went through the motions of the first high.
That day I cleaned the house from top to bottom and cooked the best meal of my life. By the time Trey arrived home, I had finished what was in the aluminum foil and wanted more. The question was how to get him to get some for me. After all, I wasn’t even supposed to know that he was doing it.
“So, Trey, how was your day?” I asked him as he sat down to eat.
“Fine.” He looked around the house and said, “The house looks nice.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
After a moment of silence, I asked, “Trey, what do you do with the money you make?”
Looking up, he said, “Huh?”
“I didn’t stutter. I asked you what you do with the money you make.”
“What do you mean, what do I do with the money. I buy things for you and the kids. I pay child support to Kim and don’t get to see the child that I’m supporting.”
Kim, the other baby’s mama, hated the fact that we were living together, and would play games with Trey’s other son and Trey visiting him. I told him to take her ass to court, but no, he didn’t want to listen to me. He kept saying he had it under control.
“So you’re sitting there telling me that you spend it on me and the kids?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Well, tell me this, when is the last time we went shopping? When is the last time we went out to dinner? When is the last time you bought me something just because?” I was getting worked up.
“Where is all this coming from?”
Not able to hold it in any longer, I reached into my pocket and threw the aluminum foil on the table. “I found this in your pocket when I was doing the laundry.”
He didn’t say a word. He just looked at it.
“I think this is where your money has been going.”
Trey looked at me with the saddest eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”
Pissed and high, I said, “You don’t know what to say, you don’t know what to say. Here you are getting high with money that could be used to better us and you don’t know what to say.”
I almost felt bad for him because of the look of regret. “I tried it,” I blurted out.
This caught him off guard. “You what? You did what?”
“I said, I tried it.”
Suddenly he was up on me. “Give it to me now.”
I backed up and told him no.
“What the hell is the matter with you? Why would you do something like that.”
“Why would I do something like that? Why the hell would you?”
This conversation was not going the way I wanted it to. My goal was to get him to go and purchase more, but instead we were arguing. I needed to change the way this conversation was going. “Listen, I don’t want to argue about it. I don’t have a problem with you getting high every now and then, I just wish I didn’t have to find out this way.”
He was looking at me, stunned.
“As a matter of fact, if you’re going to get high, we might as well do it together.”
I put the package on the table and paused for a second or two. I was waiting to see if he was going to stop me. A part of me was hoping he would, but that didn’t happen.
“Well, let’s do this,” he shocked me by saying instead.
“You ain’t said nothing but a word?”
He stood up, reached into his pocket, and pulled out another package.
That was the first time we got high together, and afterwards the sex we had was mind-blowing. All inhibitions were down, but afterwards I have to admit I regretted it. Regretted the whole thing. Regret didn’t stop us from doing it again.
Now we all know this situation wasn’t going to work for long; it could, would, and did only go from bad to worse.
It seems like the second it was out in the open, Trey went crazy with it. Every day he would come home wanting to get high, even when I didn’t want to. It was getting—no, it had gotten out of control.
What was the breaking point, you may be wondering. Well, there were several. We tried to keep what we were doing from the kids, either making sure they were asleep or not in the room with us when we were getting high. What we didn’t count on was the fact that the kids didn’t need to see us getting high when they could imitate us instead. They started walking around sniffing and rubbing their noses. One day, Queen was cutting up straws.
“What are you doing?” I asked her, startled, hoping she wasn’t doing what I thought.
“Cutting up straws. I see you and Daddy doing this all the time.”
I almost started crying. Only reason I didn’t was because I was high at the time.
Another time we stayed up all night getting high, didn’t even take the kids to day care, Trey called out of work, and we got nothing accomplished. My sister came over that day, took one look at us, and had the nerves to call us trifling, skank-ass negroes.
“I can’t believe this shit. I can’t believe that you’re getting high.”
Of course I denied it. “Ain’t nobody getting high. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m not stupid, I know when a person is high as hell, and you are, you and that man of yours. I thought you were smarter than me.”
I was so glad Trey was in the bedroom and couldn’t hear us.
“Look at me, look at me, do you want to be like me? My kids were taken away, I’m pregnant again, and this one will probably be taken away, too. Do you want to end up like me?”
Shantay went on and on, ranting and raving. Sooner than later what she was saying
started to sink in. I could lose my kids, I was turning into someone I never thought I’d be. I’d allowed cocaine to get the best of me.
The next day, tired and hungover, I told Trey we needed to talk. Well, I talked and he listened. I told him we needed to stop getting high, that not only was it destroying us as individuals but that it was destroying our family, as well. He agreed. Long story short, agreeing to make a change and actually making a change are two very different things.
I called the 1-800-Cocaine number and they told me about NA meetings, which I started to attend. Not only was it hard but it was embarrassing, as well. My pride didn’t get the best of me, though. I stuck it out.
As I attended these meetings, I started to change for the better, but Trey was getting worse in his addiction. He’d even lost his job. I kicked him out, had no choice. I have to admit that sometimes I think about him; I can’t help it, he was good to me. I use to wish things had turned out differently until I’d see him hanging on the Avenue, the spot where all the drug dealers and drug addicts hang, and I knew I did the right thing.
After Trey, I really swore off men. Then how did I end up with child number three, you ask. It’s called horniness and a failure of birth control. By now I’d smartened up and got on the Pill. I’d been without sex for months when I finally accepted an invitation from Tyrone for dinner.
Tyrone and I met at the grocery store. I had the kids with me and was struggling with the bags when he came over to the car and asked if I needed any help.
“I’d like that,” I said, not even trying to play the strong woman role.
As he started to place the bags in the car, he turned to me and said, “Haven’t I seen you at the meetings?”
I didn’t have to ask what meetings he was talking about. “Probably.”
“Well, I’m Tyrone.”
We talked a little, and the next thing you know he invited me to dinner. We had sex that first night, and two months later I found out I was pregnant. The damn Pill failed me. It’s rare when it happens, but it did. By the time I figured out I was pregnant, I was eleven weeks and there was no way I was heading to the clinic. I can remember being scared to tell Tyrone. I didn’t want him to think I tried to trap him. When I did tell him, he took it in stride; he even went so far as to take some of the blame by saying maybe he should have worn a condom.
Tyrone and I still see each other occasionally; he takes care of his son, my baby Malik, and what I like most about him is he doesn’t forget my other kids. He sometimes takes them places and buys them things. He doesn’t have to do this but he does. He often talks about us being together, but I’m afraid to enter into another relationship; the first two went down the drain, plus right now I think I just need to concentrate on me and trying to get my life together. I just finished beauty school and registered for the LPN class, and well, I need to give love a break.
So now, here I am with three kids, still on welfare, working under the table at a salon, and trying to do my thing.
4
It’s Party Time
“Girl, come on and go out with us tonight. We’re hitting Club Onyx.”
I was on the phone with Dana. I wanted to say okay because I hadn’t been out in so long, but when you’ve got three kids it’s hard to just up and be like, all right. Dana only had one child, a daughter, so it was easy for her to get a baby-sitter.
“I don’t know. I have to try and get a baby-sitter and you know that’s easier than it sounds.”
“Don’t worry about it, bring the kids over here; my niece is staying the night, pay her a few dollars, and she’ll baby-sit.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Ask her while I’m on the phone.” I had to have Dana do that, because she’d tell me it was okay and I’d get there and her niece Tina wouldn’t know a thing about it. Believe me, it’s happened before.
“I said it was okay.”
“Let me speak to your niece. Put her on the phone.”
“Damn, girl, you don’t trust my word?”
Laughing, I said, “No, as a matter of fact I don’t.”
She put her niece on the phone and I asked her if she wouldn’t mind watching the kids if I’d pay her.
“Oh, so you’re asking this time,” Tina said and I could just imagine her hands on her hips.
“Now you know the last time wasn’t my fault, that was your aunt.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Getting frustrated and feeling like I was begging her ass, I said, “You know what, forget it.”
Popping her teeth, she said, “I’ll watch them. I don’t mind. Shit, your three kids act better than Dana’s one.”
“I heard that,” Dana said in the background.
“I wasn’t exactly whispering,” Tina told her.
Interrupting their little tit for tat, I thanked her and asked her to put Dana back on the phone.
“See, I told you she’d say yes.”
“Yeah, okay.”
We talked some more about what we were going to wear and hung up. I was excited as hell. Like I said earlier, I hadn’t been out in a long time and was ready to get my groove on. This was going to be my celebration of finishing beauty school and starting nursing school.
I fed the kids and told them I was going out.
“Well, where are we going?” Queen asked, always the outspoken one.
“Tina’s going to watch you.”
“Oh, I like her.”
Whew, I was glad to hear that, because if tonight went well, I planned on taking my ass out a little more. Sometimes I get so lost in this motherhood thing that I forget I’m young and should be enjoying myself.
I let the television baby-sit the kids while I showered and got dressed. I decided to wear a basic black strapless dress that fit my hips and behind just right, and stopped just above the knees. I put on some black heels that tied up the leg and pulled my hair back into a ponytail. Glancing in the mirror, I smiled, liking what I saw. Shit, having three kids didn’t do too much damage.
Grabbing my purse, I gathered the kids and drove over to Dana’s. It was time to party and a sister like me was ready.
“Oh, girl you look nice,” Dana said when I walked in.
I wish I could say the same about my girl. She could not dress. There was a time when I would have said something, but it always fell on deaf ears. One time she even told me I was just jealous. I let it drop after that. I decided to let her dress how she wanted to. Tonight, for example, she wore this tight white unitard. Now you know white don’t look right on everybody, especially a thick sister, and Dana was most definitely that. You could see every bump, hump, and lump.
“Thanks,” I told her, as I got my kids settled and gave them each a hug and kiss.
“Let’s take my car,” Dana said, when we stepped outside.
“Fine with me,” I told her, thinking we were hopping in her Jeep Cherokee, but when we stepped outside and she started walking over to a Lincoln Navigator, I had to stop in my tracks.
“What the hell, or should I say who the hell’s Navigator is this?”
“Girl, Ricky bought this for me.”
“Ricky? The drug dealer Ricky? Please tell me you are not messing with that knucklehead.”
“That and then some,” she said, laughing and climbing into the car.
I started to give her a lecture on dealing with thugs and how it won’t get you anywhere, when she threw up her hands and said, “Please, Miss Holier Than Thou, no lectures. I’m grown and having the time of my life, he treats me and mine good, I don’t want, ask, or need for anything, and I’m going to take advantage of it while it lasts.”
Well, at least she knew that it wouldn’t. So I just said, “Be careful.”
“Words from the wise,” she replied while putting the key in the ignition.
When we pulled up to the club, the haters were definitely out. We stepped out of the Navigator and immediately the women in line starting cutting their eyes at us. I d
idn’t want to wait, either, because I felt something would go down if we did and I was too old for the nonsense.
“Dana, let’s go somewhere else, I don’t feel like waiting in line.”
“Girl, please, ain’t nobody got to wait. The bouncer at the door is Ricky’s friend.” She grabbed my arm. “Come on.”
I let her lead me to the front of the line, ignoring all the heckling that was coming from the other women.
“How are they just going to walk up in the front?”
“I know he’s not going to let their asses in.”
“Oh, hell no.”
The women were pissed. I have to admit, I would be, too, if I was waiting in line, but you know what, I wasn’t.
When we got inside, Dana turned toward me and asked, “You want a soda or juice?”
She knew that I didn’t drink anymore; that came with not doing drugs. The first time we went out and I ordered a soda, I thought Dana was going to lose her mind.
“What the hell are you ordering a soda for, you can’t get a drink like everyone else?” she asked.
“You know I’m going to those meetings now.” I didn’t try to hide it from my crew; if we were going to continue being friends, they had to respect my choice.
“Yeah, but I thought that was for cocaine not for liquor. You didn’t have a problem with drinking.”
“It goes hand in hand,” I told her.
All night she bothered me about it, trying to force my hand until finally I left the bar without even telling her. When she arrived home that night, she called and asked me, “What’s your problem?”
“Listen, you know I’m trying to get my act together. If I make a decision and you can’t respect it, I don’t need to hang out with you anymore.”
“Oh, so it’s like that?”
“It’s exactly like that.”
A Dollar and A Dream Page 9