“That’s what they better do. Only thing any of them niggas can get from me is a stray bullet. I can’t stand they ass.” The frown on my face looked like I just ate something sour.
“I told ’em,” Rochelle said, laughing. “You hungry? I got some bacon and eggs. I woke up hungry this morning.”
“You know I want to eat. Charlene ain’t showed up yet?” I bounced down on the living-room couch so I could watch cable television. We ain’t had cable in so long it’s a treat when I get to watch it.
“Nah. Ain’t nobody been here. Mike finally done got locked up, and he’s calling here all day, bugging me. I told him last night don’t be calling me from no jail. Those damn calls are expensive. Nigga gon’ have Wynita going upside my head about them long-distance charges shit,” Rochelle complained. Wynita is her momma, and Ms. Wynita don’t play.
“What he locked up for?” I asked out of curiosity.
“He all the way down in Flint selling dem bricks. I told him if he wanted to talk to me he shoulda stayed out of jail.” Rochelle rolled her neck. “But nooo . . . This nigga thinks he the next kingpin of Detroit.”
“You so crazy, Rochelle.” I laughed at her. “But he is paid, girl,” I reminded her.
“I know, right? But he needs to get his priorities together. Besides, we ain’t got nothin’ to talk about except Tiny. I ain’t messin’ wit’ him no more. Nigga think he my daddy. And you know the one thing I won’t put up with is somebody tryin’ to control me. Scratch all that.”
Someone knocked on the door. Rochelle got up to unlock it. Charlene entered.
“Hey, what’s up, y’all?” Charlene said, stepping in the door with a smile on her face rocking a pink and blue Rocawear short sweat suit with some white Force Charlene never leaves home looking like a bum.
“I’m ready, Mya. You know I need to make my third-period class on time,” she said, while she checked out her freshly manicured nails.
“Well, let’s go in the kitchen. I already got everything set up,” Rochelle said. “Because I already knew Mya was gon’ sit on that couch as soon as she got here.”
“Shut up, Rochelle,” I said, while getting off the couch.
“So, y’all going to that party that the Height Squad’s giving at the Ripple Turn this weekend? It’s about to be off the chain,” Charlene grinned.
“Hell, no,” I said. “You ain’t either because you have to be twenty-one to get in that club. And they be cardin’ people at the door, hard,” I informed Charlene.
“Never mind all that.” Charlene gave me a reassuring glance. “All I need is a fake ID or this big booty. Trust me, I will be there with all those ballers come Saturday night. Besides, I was invited by Pig.” She beamed.
“Pig? You like that nigga?” Rochelle had a disgusted look on her face.
“I didn’t say all that, but that nigga got mad paper. He’s gettin’ money like a motherfucker, and I like that, so it’s all good. If the two of you want to go I can get you in.” Charlene put a stick of gum in her mouth.
“Count me out. I got other stuff to think about instead of some party,” I replied.
“You can count me in if I can get Wynita to babysit Tiny. Oh, what am I saying, girl? You know Wynita gon’ watch Tiny. Count me in,” Rochelle replied while snacking on bacon.
“Saturday I’m going down to visit my dad. I haven’t seen him in a minute, and that trip takes me a whole day on the bus,” I replied smugly.
“Yeah, I feel that,” Rochelle said still snacking on the bacon. “How is he?”
“He wrote about a month ago saying everything was cool. But I just need to see him. I need to talk to him about some real issues.”
“Look, forget about the party. Charlene, you can count me out. I’m rolling with my girl to go see her dad. She needs me.” Rochelle gave me a concerned look.
“No, Rochelle, go ahead to the party. I need to do this alone. This visit needs to be between me and my dad, but thanks. I always know you got my back,” I assured her.
Rochelle was always so emotional, so she stood up and gave me a hug. Charlene looked at us like we’re trippin’.
“So what y’all tryin’ to say? I ain’t down because you been my girl forever, Mya. So don’t even play.” Charlene rolled her neck and popped her lips. Not to mention she’s chewing on that gum so hard I think she might break one of her teeth.
Rochelle and I both looked at her.
“Girl, shut up and come fix yourself a plate right quick. You trippin’,” Rochelle replied with a smile.
“And fix me one too ’cause I’m hungry.” I started rubbing my growling stomach.
Chapter 4
I open my eyes. The sun was shining through the window. I hastily grabbed the clothes I laid out last night and put them on. “Shit!” I said out loud realizing that I overslept, and if I didn’t hurry, I was going to miss the early-morning bus to the prison. Visitation is over at 4:00 p.m., and the next bus doesn’t leave until 10:00 a.m. The bus ride takes five hours to get there; I would really be pushing it.
I had to let Li’l Bo know I was leaving. I knocked on his bedroom door before going in. “Li’l Bo, wake up. I need you to watch Monica. I’m catching the 8:00 a.m. bus to the prison to see Dad. I won’t be back until tonight. So just watch her for me.”
“Why I gotta watch her? She’s fourteen. And when can I go see Dad? I miss him too. You get to see him all the time.” Li’l Bo sat up rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“Look, I know what you feeling, but I don’t have extra bus money. If I did I would take Monica, too. Besides, this isn’t a social visit with Dad today. I need to talk business.”
“I need to talk business too. Dad is the only one who can tell me how to get money off these streets. I need to be takin’ care of you and Monica. Not going to some sucka-ass school every day.”
Before I knew it, I grabbed him out of the bed by his shirt. “What are you saying, Li’l Bo? You ready to get out here in these streets and start hustlin’? You ready to die? Because that’s what’s gon’ happen. That’s all that happens in these streets; they grimy.”
“I got to learn how to be a man, Mya,” he said, looking me straight in the eyes. “That’s what Dad would expect me to do. I can’t keep sittin’ back watching us suffer. There’s money in the streets, and I can get it.” He had tears in his eyes.
I released my grip on him. “What I need to know is that you and Monica are safe. I’m going to take care of us. Don’t worry. I will get us out of here. I’m the oldest, and it’s my responsibility. But I can’t do that if I’m worried about you out here hustlin’. Just go to school and help me with Monica. Promise me, Li’l Bo.”
He hesitated. “A’ight, I promise. But I still want to see Dad. I only seen him twice since he been locked up.”
“Give me some time and I will take you and Monica down to see him. But I got to get going before I miss that bus.” I double-backed to my room to grab my key before I left.
Before I shut the door Li’l Bo yelled at me, “Yo, this some bullshit. I got to be a man in this neighborhood, Mya. FUCK!” he screamed.
Chapter 5
While sitting in the phone booth stall waiting for my dad to be brought out, I felt a little nervous. My hands started to sweat, and I wished they would hurry up and bring him out. I have a lot on my mind, and sitting here is racking my nerves. Nobody in their right mind would like sitting between two walls. It feels like this stall is closing in on me. For a moment I feel my chest is getting tight, like I’m about to lose my breath. I squeezed both of my hands into fists to help with the anxiety.
I finally saw him being escorted my way by one of the guards on duty. He reached out and touched the window with both hands. Since he was convicted of several murders, he was in a maximum security prison. That means no physical contact with the inmate. So we only get to see each other through this fucking glass.
“Baby girl, I been missing you!” He smiled at me.
The window was soundproof so I could
only read his lips. I stood up and put both of my hands on the window to match his. For a moment we just gaped at each other before we picked up the phones. I could feel my heart breaking all over again. I even think it skipped a beat.
“Hey, Daddy,” I all but whispered into the phone receiver. I tried to control my tears, but they just started rolling down my face.
“Come on, baby girl. You can do this. Tell me what’s up.”
“I just don’t know what to do anymore. Everything is harder than ever, and I’m trying to be strong, Daddy, but I’m only seventeen, and a girl at that.” I wiped the tears off my face with the back of my hand.
“Mya, look at me. I’m sorry the way I left things, but I couldn’t control that,” he pleaded.
That statement is complete bull to me. And even more it just made me angry. “You could have controlled it. Everyone has a choice of how they live their life. I’m only seventeen, and even I know that. For all the dope you served on the streets, we don’t have shit now. You left us flat broke. No house, no cars, not even an ounce of coke to sell. So what was it all for? We have nothing to show except a father in prison and a mother on crack. Maybe instead of selling crack, you and your beautiful wife should’ve had a legit job. At least we would have our parents.” I felt a lump growing in my throat, and I could barely breathe so I lay down the phone.
He pointed at the phone for me to pick it back up. I stalled for a few seconds before I picked it up.
“You have every right to be angry at me. I know that. I beat myself up every day knowing how y’all out there suffering. But the feds took everything.” His voice started to get choked up so he stalled. Then he cleared his throat and continued.
“I had money set up in a bank account for us to move and get that new house out in the Auburn Hills suburbs. I knew that would at least get us out of the heart of the projects. And being stupid I had money in safes around the house. They found all that money. I fucked up; I was just used to things being the way it had always been. Used to livin’ the good life. I was just too caught up into gettin’ money. The whole time I was out there in the streets I never made one good decision, and baby girl, I had been in the streets a long time. I had been dealing for almost twenty years. I thought I was on top. But it wasn’t until I noticed all the young cats coming into the game around me, making moves and getting up out of the projects that I knew I needed to make a move. That’s when I decided to get y’all up outta there, but by then, I was just getting rusty. I’m sorry, baby girl.”
“I know you didn’t want any of this stuff to happen. It’s just so fucked up, Dad.”
He tried to change the subject. “How is everybody? I bet Monica and Li’l Bo getting tall like me, huh?” Dad smiled thinking about them.
“Yep, they want to come see you too, but I don’t have the money. Li’l Bo talkin’ about hustlin.’ Dad, if he gets out there in the streets, he gon’ end up dead or in here with you. He listens to me now, but I don’t know how much longer he will. I got to do something.”
“He said something to you about hustlin’?” Dad asked me.
“This morning was the first time. He said wants to come see you so you can teach him the game.”
“Shit!” Dad hit the window with his fist. Two guards rushed over to contain him, but he explained and they let him go. “I don’t want to see him in here or dead, but I can’t do jack for him in here.” He paused for a minute; his breathing was rushed. “I just ruined it for everybody. DAMN!” His voice boomed across the room again.
“It’s OK, Daddy. I will do what I can for now to keep him off the block, but you and I both know it’s just a matter of time. Those niggas from the Boone Squad be after little niggas every day,” I reminded him.
“I know.” He had a distant look in his eyes. “You try to bring him up on the next visit. I’ll talk to him.” He paused again. “Your momma . . . How is she doing?”
I looked down to keep from looking him straight in the eyes. I just hated to put all this on him while he’s in here. “She’s worse. Losing weight, skin color fading, just not the same anymore. That’s why I need to step up, Dad. Monica and Li’l Bo only have me, and if I keep stealing from the food market, I’ma end up in Juvenile. I can’t leave them; I need to know what to do.” I looked him straight in the eyes. “You can’t show me, but you can tell me how to survive.” I beseeched him for help.
Again he hesitated. “Baby girl, you got to get what you can outta the streets. Not by being weak like your momma. I spoiled her. Kept her looking good, but I didn’t teach her nothing. That was my first mistake. The only thing she knew how to do was look good and be my woman. That’s my fault. But you, baby girl, you can get it. The streets got something that you can get and on your terms. You don’t need anybody to get it, especially no nigga. Fuck that! You fatten your own pockets. Now, if you happen to find a sucka on the way, that’s different. And another thing I want you to get is your GED. You need that; it completes you.”
“But, Dad, what are you saying? In what way does that get me up out of the projects?” I asked, totally confused by everything that he just said. It sounded like random chatter.
“Baby girl, the streets don’t want nothin’ from you. But you want from the streets because it’s your survival. The streets ain’t gon’ give you nothing free. Whatever you want out of the streets, baby girl, you gon’ have to take it. On your own terms; it’s as simple as that.”
I started smiling. “Dad, the only thing you said that I understand is GED. And I plan on gettin’ that when I get straight. But for now, we gotta eat and get out of the projects.”
“Baby girl, once you sit down and think about what I said it’ll come to you. The picture will be clear, but look at me when I say this. Don’t you ever become a trophy for any nigga, because ain’t shit he can give you that you can’t get for yo self. You remember that.”
Chapter 6
After the visit with my dad I headed straight back to the Brewster feeling a little relieved and trying to figure out what he was talking about. As I approached my building I could see Li’l Bo standing in the hallway. Before I got to him I could tell that he was upset.
“What’s up, Li’l Bo? Why are you standing out here?” I questioned him as I felt myself getting nervous.
“Momma!” Li’l Bo eyes were filled with tears. “One of these suckaniggas beat her. And she won’t say who,” Li’l Bo said in short, hurried breaths.
“What!” I screamed. I pushed past him and rushed up the ten flights of stairs to get to our floor since the elevator was broken again. Shit is always broke in these damn projects. I’m so tired by the time I run up all those stairs I can barely breathe. The door was wide open to our apartment, and the living room looked like it’s been tossed.
“Ma!” I shouted out heading straight to her room. “Oh, GOD!” I screamed but I didn’t even hear the words as they left my mouth. One look at her face sent rage through me. Her naturally red bone face was black and blue, her right eye was swollen shut, and her bottom lip was covered in crusty dried-up blood. “Come on, Momma, we gotta get you to a hospital.” I reached down and tried to lift her off the bed.
“No, Mya. I’ll be OK.” One single tear rolled down her already soaked face.
“I’ve been trying to get her to go to the hospital, Mya, but she won’t listen.” Monica tried to speak through her choked up voice. Her face was also swollen from crying.
“You need to go to the hospital, Momma. Something could be broken, and why are you holding your arm like that? Can you move it? Do you think it’s broken?” I reached over to help her lift the arm up, but she quickly pushed me off.
“Ugh, ugh, Mya, don’t touch it.” She tried to lift it herself. “AGGHH!” she screamed in agonizing pain. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it hurts like hell.” She bent over in pain.
“Fuck all this, I’m calling the cops.” I rushed over to grab the phone off the dresser, but the cord got caught under my shoe and it fell to the f
loor.
“No, no, Mya!” she shouted. “Don’t do that. You’ll only make it worse. I’ll be OK,” she begged me.
“Well, tell me who did this. Who did this to you?” I shouted again.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m OK,” she tried to convince me.
“Monica, leave the room.” I pointed toward the door.
“But—” Monica tried to protest.
“Monica, leave the room. Now!” I screamed.
Monica got off the bed slowly and walked out. I slammed the door behind her. In a quiet voice I demanded answers from Momma.
“I want to know who did this to you and why. I won’t leave this room until I know.”
“Why does it matter, Mya? I ain’t shit but a prostitute and crack ho,” she said calmly while looking off into space. “This type of thing is bound to happen to me . . . or worse. I’m lucky every day if somebody don’t rape me and leave me for dead in an alley.”
Her Sweetest Revenge (Delphine Publications Presents) Page 2