The Banks Sisters

by Nikki Turner

  “I’m on my way. First I had to drop my sisters off and then I had to go to two places on the opposite side of town,” she explained.

  “You want to see your friend, bae, man, daddy whatever the fuck you people call each other, again I suggest you get your ass here right now! You hear me bitch?” He had Bunny all twisted until the moment he called her a bitch. Unlike a lot of women who had been worn down by the overuse of the word in rap songs and popular culture and found it acceptable she didn’t play with any form of being called out of her name.

  “I ain’t no female dog so don’t call me one,” she shot out getting ready to go ham on him for that shit. But instead of Ghostman coming for her he actually found her rage funny and burst out into hysterical laughter.

  “I’m glad you find me so funny,” Bunny stated dryly.

  But he wasn’t laughing at what she said. What he found so hilarious had more to do with how most people treated him, since his name alone instilled fear everywhere he went, people normally kissed his ass and knew to be afraid when they saw him. To hear her talk to him like that was pretty funny to him.

  “Guess I needed a good laugh. I’m giving you twenty minutes to get your ass over here.” Bunny glanced down at the Waze app on her phone and saw that her estimated arrival time was less than ten minutes.

  “See you then,” she said and then hung up noticing her hands were shaking like she had Parkinson’s disease or something. She had to slap the steering wheel real hard to stop them from moving like that. Her thoughts drifted back to Spoe, and hoped he wouldn’t be upset with her for going against his wishes. He always told her that if he got caught she was supposed to take the money and run as far away as possible. Take that passport and leave the country, but she couldn’t. She had to try and rescue him even if it meant walking into a dangerous situation without knowing if either of them would make it out alive.

  “I’m Bunny,” she told the high class thot who answered the door. Yeah, she had a full head of natural hair that cascaded down her back and her eyebrows were on fleek, but since she was here it meant they were enemies.

  “Umph!” She ran her eyes over Bunny’s velour sweat suit and her Louie handbag then snarled at her, but smiled at the duffle bag she was carrying.

  “Then you better run your ass upstairs ’cause Ghostman don’t like to be kept waiting. Bunny swore that she saw that girl coming outta Tariq’s apartment building a few weeks ago, but maybe she was wrong. She’d have to ask him she thought as she raced up the stairs. As she stepped inside three armed men were passing a joint between them.

  “No!” Bunny dropped the bags loaded down with money onto the floor. Her eyes laid on Tariq in the corner tied up. He had a look of desperation in it.

  “Where is Spoe?”

  “Awe, she came for her man. Ain’t black love beautiful,” Ghostman joked.

  “You got your money, where’s Spoe?”

  Ghostman laughed. “I’m sorry sis,” Tariq said with tears in his eyes. He started to try to fill Bunny in, but Ghostman shut him up by turning his gun and shooting Reek in the chest, killing him with one shot blood splattering all over the room.

  Bunny screamed, “Noooooo!” as her heart dropped into her stomach as she stumbled about to pass out from the shock at witnessing the murder of her husband’s best friend.

  Why did you have to kill Reek?” she screamed at Ghostman. “And where is Spoe?”

  “This motherfucker stole from me and for all I know you could be the ring leader and your ass could get the next bullet out of this piece.” He waved his gun at her making the other two men laugh.

  “Damn,” one of his goons interjected, “that looks like some good pussy she hiding under those baggy ass pants.” Bunny turned and gave him the finger not caring one fuck that he held a weapon capable of taking her out in one shot. These weren’t those normal everyday niggas she was used to dealing with, the ones who talked a good game, these guys didn’t care one bit that she looked fuckable. They would just as shoot her without hesitating.

  Ghostman motioned to one of his men to pick up the bag Bunny had dropped on the floor and to bring it to him. He opened it up and checked the stacks. He had to play along.

  “And why should I let him live?” Ghostman’s sadistic tendencies were fully exposed.

  “Please, please don’t hurt him!” Where is Spoe? she screamed.

  “He’s already dead.”

  Bunny dropped to the floor her tears came like a gusher. “You fucking monster! You had your money. You had your money,” her words rang out falling onto ears that didn’t give two shits. Ghostman was a businessman and killing of the man that stole from him was business.

  “This man stole from me! You think he should have lived to what? Steal from me again? You think I’m fucking stupid?”

  “Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” she screamed. “How could you?”

  “Fuck me? Fuck me?” He reached over and snatched Bunny up off the floor. “If I wanted, I could bend you ass over that table and fuck the shit out of you then pass you over to these two. They don’t get that much pussy so you can see how that would appeal to them?”

  “Yeah, I want some of that,” the most vocal of the gunmen chimed in, thoughts of a naked Bunny fighting struggling while he fucked her was giving him a hard on.

  It wasn’t fear that kept her from telling him off, her eyes blazed at him, but Bunny didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Her grief had taken absolute and total control rendering her momentarily mute. There was no telling what she would do or say now that he had destroyed her life.

  “I may let you off this time, but that would mean you never mutter my name or tell anyone what went down in this room. If you do, you should know that I will find you and let these men do whatever they want to you and that hot little body before they kill you. Do you understand?” A look passed between Ghostman and Bunny.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not so sure you do.” He sneered moving close to her ear, the gun now raised to meet at her temple. “Now here is where shit can get a little sticky. I have to decide whether I should allow you to leave or if I should let you experience the same ending as that motherfucker here.”

  -22-

  “Somebody get that!” Me-Ma stuck her head out of her bedroom door and hollered over the sounds of the crooning negroes in heat music playing on one of those speakers Tallhya plugged her iPhone into. That child had been in a bipolar state for a while now; tears one minute and laughing at some funny memory between her and that no good devil of a husband she married, the next minute. She heard the sound of clopping down the stairs, no doubt it had to be Ginger. She probably had on some ridiculous platform shoes. Ginger loved the way heels accentuated her shapely calves and long legs.

  “What?” Ginger gave the messenger the once over and quickly assessed that he was neither rich nor packing any heat in his pants, which accounted for her wanting him to disappear as quickly as possibly.

  “Uhm, uhm,” the middle aged brother got all tongue twisted staring up at Ginger. Like so many men he too acted as if he could possibly catch the transgenderitis just from standing too close. If he only knew that he was far from her type so all the begging in six counties couldn’t buy him any time with Ginger so he sure didn’t need to worry about her getting too close. That was not going to happen. “I’m looking for a Tall . . . hiy . . . aaa,” he blurted out all wrong. And like every other person forced to read his sister’s name before they hear it out loud he mispronounced it.

  “She’s upstairs. You can give it to me,” Ginger reached out for the manila envelope but the messenger snatched, it out of her reach shaking his head.

  “She’s the only one I can give this to.”

  “You wait right here and don’t you try and steal nothing,” Ginger snapped before darting up the stairs. She slammed open the door to the bedroom that used to belong to Tallhya and Walter, but where her sister now lay in a heap crying with some Mariah Carey song playing. Shit had gone from bad to wo
rse.

  “Girl you want your delivery you better come and sign for it. Tal, get your ass to the door then you can come right back to this.” Ginger hustled her sister out of the room and down the stairs.

  “Are you Tal . . . hhhayyie?”

  “I’m Tallhya,” she stuck out her hand couldn’t be bothered tryin’a explain to someone she would never meet again how to pronounce out her name. All she wanted was for this person to hand over whatever and to go away. She wasn’t done crying and feeling sorry for herself so this interruption was just that; another damn interruption. With all the bodies running around that house, her goal of crying herself silly and wallowing in self pity felt like an impossible task. Ginger came up behind her as the messenger presented her with a clipboard to sign. Once she had finished he handed over the envelope along with something unexpected.

  “You’ve been served,” he blurted out and then ran to his car and took off. The man had experienced one too many irate customers to take any chances especially since most of the crazies were Black and Latino women. They reached levels of insanity no man should ever have to deal with when they got served papers. You’d think they’d have no damn idea they were coming.

  She tore open the envelope as she closed the door, Ginger stood there trying figure out the best way to ask for a loan without appearing insensitive.

  “Petition for divorce!” She read the top of the legal document in shock. It hadn’t occurred to her that this was coming even after she hadn’t heard one word from Walter.

  “Girl, you better make sure that motherfucker don’t try and take your money. Get your ass to that bank and get your money. I don’t trust that motherfucker one bit!”

  Now she may have been madly in love and grieving, but Tallhya wasn’t stupid. She got herself together and went over to that bank to handle her business. Walter had made a fool of her and she’d be damned if she were going to allow him to continue to do so.

  “What? What? That is impossible,” Tallhya screamed at the bank teller who delivered the bad news. Apparently ole Walter had cleaned out all their bank accounts. A couple of months ago she had added his name onto her accounts in case of an emergency. He’d never so much as touched a dollar and now he had up and taken every single dime she had to her name. Tallhya walked back to her car and just stared at the bank statement the teller printed for her. She kept looking at the zeroes where it said BALANCE. She was overcome with emotions of betrayal. The more she sat there and thought about what Walter had done to her, the more she felt her heart shifting. God knows how long Tallhya sat in her car in that bank parking lot, but when she finally drove home, it was as if a whole new woman was in the driver’s seat. A strong woman. A scorned woman. But most importantly, she was a woman with a plan. But before she put her plan into action, she needed to go home and change. She needed a new look to go with her new attitude.

  Walter worked at a shipping warehouse over in the industrial part of town. She’d brought him lunch enough times that the guard waved her in as she walked into the building. Tallhya didn’t notice that his reasons had more to do with the fact that the security guard was obsessed with watching her scrumptious ass walking past him.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Walter Walker,” the receptionist knew Tallhya by name and picked up the phone.

  “Let me tell him that you’re here.”

  “No,” Tallhya panicked then smile sweetly. “Why don’t you let me surprise him?” She winked at the receptionist like they were coconspirators. The woman had grown so bored with the daily monotony that she was excited at the idea of helping out another big girl like herself.

  Giving thanks to the Lord for lighting her way as Me-Ma reminded her earlier, Tallhya went back to Walter’s office hell bent on accomplishing what she set out to do. When she didn’t find him there she closed the door, sat down in his seat and waited. Sure enough a few minutes later who should come sauntering in, with not a goddam care in the world, but her no good husband. The panicked expression of his face shifted to annoyance ’cause this motherfucker was used to ruling over Tallhya.

  “What are you doing in my office?” he snarled at her, but unlike the old Tallhya who jumped at his every command the ugliness of his reaction did nothing to deter her from her focus. She snapped open her extra large purse and pushed the divorce papers and her bank statements across the table at him.

  “This is what the hell I’m doing here? You stole my money? Wasn’t it enough that you made a goddam fool of me? I thought you loved me. I thought you meant your vows when we got married. How could you do this to me?”

  “You don’t have any money. That’s not my problem! Now get the fuck out of my office and don’t you ever show up at my job again. Not if you know what is good for you,” he threatened. Even after seeing him with that woman, the divorce papers, and him stealing her money, Tallhya still couldn’t believe that this person standing in front of her was treating her this way. She couldn’t believe this was the same man that she had been so madly in love with just days ago.

  “Walter you can’t do this. I want my money.”

  “I done told you that is my money. And I have your signature on a document to prove it. You’r dumb-ass legally signed everything over to me without even reading it.” He smirked. Walter felt real pleased with how well his plan to con Tallhya out of everything had worked. He and Pamela had big plans with that money as soon as he got untangled from this woman.

  “You motherfucker,” her arms began to pound into him and she became a madwoman.

  “Bitch, you better remember those special little home movies we made or shall I say that I made when I filmed you sucking my dick, eating out my ass, taking my cum in your face, and doing a whole lot of other things. So unless you want everybody in your grandmother’s congregation to get a look at your dick sucking skills, you will walk the fuck out of here and never come back. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” her voice, squeaked as the realization hit Tallhya that she really had just lost everything. And just like that, her newfound attitude had been torn down to nothing.

  -23-

  Tallhya’s eyes rolled back in her head, not in the praising God kind of way, but in a pissed the hell off to be out of bed this early in the morning when my life is a hot mess and ain’t nothing God can do to fix it kind of way. She had been dragged up into Faith and Hope Ministry one time too many with the promise of grace and salvation and since nothing she prayed for ever happened she didn’t see any point believing in this mess anymore. But here she sat bright and early in the front row with the unofficial Mayor of this sanctuary, the only person who could convince her to drag her butt up in here, Me-Ma Banks. As much as they tried to be supportive Me-Ma and Simone were sick to death of Tallhya’s crying and carrying on like she had lost something precious when in their estimation the only thing she lost amounted to unnecessary dead weight.

  “Thank you, Jesus! Can you all say, thank you, Jesus!” Pastor Cassius, resplendent in his loud-ass royal blue suit. He danced up and down the stage, shouting and praising like something right out of an old fashioned revival. His loyal flock was jumping up and down, shouting out thank you, Jesus like they had just won the Virginia State Lottery and not just another chance to line the pastor’s fattening pockets. Simone sat on the opposite side of their grandmother, she also did not want to be there, but in her defense she had a stronger faith than any of her sisters. She knew that as suspicious as she was of Pastor Cassius she would gleam at least one take-away from the sermon even if the Reverend made her uncomfortable.

  “Good Lord,” Ginger’s heels click clacked down the aisle as she sashayed her way to the pew where her grandmother sat every single Sunday. Heads turned almost on cue, but like all the Banks girls, she just chalked it up to her exceptional good looks and massive sex appeal. Of course there had been a time not too long ago when Ginger used Sunday service to procure her lovers. She had a particular fondness for other people’s mates, she preferred married men and men with money, pref
erably a lot of it. Ginger always joked that she could write the book on the perfect places to meet the down low brothers in the closeted community and church reigned consistently on the top of her list. Normally though, church and Ginger were not exactly on friendly terms and if it hadn’t been for Pastor Street being fine as hell and straight at least on the surface she would have stayed her ass in her bed. Her friends had been whispering about the good pastor for a while so it made Ginger curious enough to find out if she could take the man of God for a spin. Plus she would never admit to it, but her tough act disintegrated when one of her sisters were hurt, so if being in church could make them feel better, then so be it, but don’t blame her if she used it as an opportunity to get laid. She slipped in the pew next to her family and paid very close attention to the sermon.

  While Cassius led his sermon Ginger spent that entire time imagining him naked and on his knees servicing her ’cause she was a real feminist and preferred to get hers first. Only thing that annoyed Ginger more than being in church was Bunny’s absence, her entire focus revolved around her man Spoe. Now she appreciated that Spoe was a keeper who treated her sister like gold, but damn, the Negro could share the girl with her own sisters. Ginger hadn’t seen or heard from Bunny since the day they went to the funeral place with Tallhya. Spoe called when they were on their way to eat and whatever it was he wanted Bunny to do must’ve been important because Bunny canceled all their plans and dropped them at the house like stepchildren. She was acting like she had to go and put out a fire and had not been seen or heard from since. You would think that with Tallhya in a state of crisis her older sister would have picked her head up off of her man’s penis and shown up or at least called to check on her.