by Pynk
She twisted the dial to Off, heaved the car into Drive, and sped down his street and away from the man she’d labeled as her now ex, wealthy, no-pussy-eating, judgmental, jack-off of a fiancé.
Once again without a family, Valencia was abandoned.
Once again she was not good enough to keep.
Once again, because of her past, she was unable to have all that goes along with the good life.
And to top it all off, she was still addicted.
23
“You’re Making Me High”
Brandi
Why in the hell is it so cloudy out tonight? What’s going on? And wow, when are they gonna fix this damn bumpy-ass road? Seems it got worse just since last week. And it even seems like the road got narrower. I mean, was this a single-lane highway before? What’s with all these cars? And what in the world is that loud-ass noise? That ringing in my ears that keeps shouting louder than the hip-hop station that’s on full blast. Who is that talking bout, “I’m da biggest boss dat ya seen thus far?” I hate rap music. And who in the hell is singing along with the lyrics like they’re on BET Jams? But I suppose a better question would be, what in the heck is up with that siren? That glaring-ass, loud-ass siren.
Brandi quickly pressed the Down Volume arrow on the steering wheel with her left thumb, while looking straight ahead.
“Miss Williams. Miss Williams.”
“Who the hell are you?” she asked out loud, while still looking at the road ahead, which was playing dirty little tricks on her mind.
“Miss Williams. Stop. Don’t you see the police cars behind us? They’re flashing their lights with their sirens blaring. I’ve been telling you to stop and pull over.” The voice was male, yet with an almost-grown pitch.
“Who are you?” she asked again, looking over to her right. His face was familiar.
It was a face that was puberty-ridden and acne-filled, coated with fright. The male turned back and then forward, over and over and over again in a deep panic. “Stop and pull this mug over,” he said again, as he pulled her right hand away from his now-deflated dick and buckled his pants, pulling down his blue and red Iron Man T-shirt.
She shook her head to make room for the eruption of emotions, and kept shaking out her brain as the fast-moving roadside scenery began to blur. Slamming on the brakes, she hit what seemed like a curb, and the Iron Man T-shirt-wearing male grabbed the wheel and yanked her fiery red Camaro into an oak tree as their heads jerked backward and then forward.
Swoosh. Their faces slammed into the ballooning air bags. Their skin was engulfed by the force. The car skidded and came to an abrupt stop.
A megaphone voice sounded from outside. “Get out of the car with your hands up where we can see them. Now.”
The Camaro would be no more.
Brandi did as she was told.
And thirteen-year-old Keyshaun, laced with Brandi’s X-rated fingerprints, did as he was told, as well.
When she arrived at the sheriff’s station that handled the East Compton area where she was arrested, Brandi was locked in a large, bright holding cell alone, awaiting arraignment the next morning on five felony counts, two of sexual assault on a minor, one of endangering the welfare of a minor, and two counts of statutory rape. That had been the first time she was with someone twice. Ever.
She sat on a wooden bench. Agony filled her face. Her weighted shoulders hung low.
“You’re allowed to make one phone call.”
She replied as though in a daze, massaging her sweaty palm with her thumb. “I’ll call my mother.”
“What’s her number?”
“I don’t know. It’s in my cell phone.”
“I’ll be right back,” the female deputy said, looking like she wanted to bitch-slap Brandi personally.
Late in the afternoon, two days after pleading not guilty during an initial hearing, where she was represented by an attorney who was a friend of her mother, Brandi sat in a plain-looking room at the Lynwood Regional Justice Center. It was an all female, midlevel county facility. And she was in the library.
She read through a few books on a shelf. Some of the books were by Ray Bradbury, Walter Dean Myers, and Walter Mosley, her favorites. Brandi took a seat on a steel chair and sat back, wearing her official orange jumpsuit.
“Gimme that,” demanded a woman wearing unkempt cornrows and built like Queen Latifah.
“What?” Brandi asked, looking shocked and worried. She stood up immediately.
“That book. That belongs to me.”
“No. That was on the shelf here.” Brandi shifted the book from one hand to another. It was a copy of Fallen Angel.
“Oh but you’re wrong, oh tender fresh meat. I own that shelf. It’s got my name on it. See. My name is Library. And this is my friend, Cafeteria.” She pointed to her buddy on the left. “My Latino lovely here is named Shower.” She pointed to her buddy on the right. “And anywhere you go, one of my other friends will be there to greet you.”
Brandi simply extended her unsteady hand, offering the book as she was told.
The grim-faced, oversized black woman threw it against the wall. “Hey, we hear you raped a child. Is that true?”
“No.” Brandi’s one word sounded like a question.
“Oh, don’t tell me. You pled not guilty, right?”
“I did.”
“Yeah, we all did. The thing is, we don’t believe you. And just in case you don’t get what the fucked-up justice system should have coming to you, I have an idea. This game right now is judge and jury. And you are about to do your time for fucking a little boy, bitch.”
“I didn’t.”
The woman skidded her head toward Brandi. “You did. We know you did. We know you’re a pervert. We know who you are. We heard all about you. You got off on this child. He’s a child. He may have acted like he liked you, but he’s a child.”
“I didn’t. I’m telling you. I gave him a ride home and I was drunk.” Brandi leaned away, bracing herself for the tongue-lashing.
The woman leaned forward. “Then how did you end up with his sperm inside of you? How did you two end up at a motel together the day before? See, they try to change the paperwork around here with codes so that we don’t know the real deal with certain inmates’ charges. But we have our ways. I think another question is, how did a thirteen-year-old end up drunk in your car with the tequila you bought him? Let me guess. Patrón, was it?”
Brandi’s face was red. “It wasn’t like that. I’m telling you.”
“Well, I’m telling you. It’s like this.” She stared at the area near Brandi’s pussy. “Pull your pantsuit down. Now.”
Brandi took one step back. “No.”
The woman grabbed her upper arm with her right hand. “Bitch. Say no again and I will shank your ass.” Random sprays of spit shot from her mouth. The woman opened her left hand and flashed a piece of metal with a pointy tip. “Pull em down.”
Brandi pulled her arms of out the sleeves and pulled her jumpsuit down to her ankles. Her eyes began to water.
“And your panties.”
Brandi’s thumbs eased her panties downward. She stood for a moment, fully exposed from tit to twat, and stepped out of both.
“Now bend over,” the woman said, pointing to the chair.
Brandi’s eyes seemed to beg. She acted as if she’d heard wrong. “What?”
“Bend the fuck over. And shut the fuck up. Do as you’re told.” And the lady with a deep voice and oversized body had a ripe, yellow banana in hand. She stepped in front of Brandi, facing her full on, and held the banana between her own legs. “Now suck this.”
Brandi whimpered but placed her knees on the seat and bent over the back of it.
The woman ordered her buddy, Cafeteria, who held on to a white hand towel, “Put that fucking towel around her neck.”
Cafeteria began to place the towel around the circumference of Brandi’s throat and she tightened it, giving it a firm jerk. And the third woman, Shower,
covered her mouth as Brandi squirmed for a second and then froze.
“Now, Shower is gonna move her hand and you are going to suck my fake dick or all three of us will pull on this towel and choke the fuck out of you. Now do it.”
As Brandi shut her eyes, she felt the tip of the banana at her mouth.
“Open.”
She parted her lips and took it in toward her tongue and swallowed hard. The woman pushed and pulled it. Brandi gagged.
“Suck it. Suck the fuck out of it.”
As Brandi was bent over, doing her best to suck as little as she could, she felt an object pressing near her asshole and she jerked, tightening up.
“Close your mouth and take it to your tonsils. Don’t let up.”
Shower, who stood behind her, inserted the handle of a cylindrical brush fast and deep.
“Uggghhhhh. Uhhhhh.” Brandi’s grunts were joined by heavy tears rolling from her eyes to her cheeks to her chin.
The woman taunted her. “Why you crying? Oh, you can’t take it big and forceful, huh. You like the little puberty dicks, I guess. Cut out that whining and take that up your ass, bitch. Whether you get out of here or not, whether they transfer you or not, I bet your fast ass won’t be fucking no more kids. Ya see, I’m a mother. See, you basically fucked my kid and every kid of every other woman in this place. Suck it, dammit.”
Another woman rammed her fist, knuckles and all, inside of Brandi’s pussy, pumping her whole hand in and out, deep and furious.
Brandi began to pee on herself.
“Good girl. That means you feel that shit. I would pull this banana out of your mouth and make you lick my pussy but if you bit me I’d have to stick your ass.”
She continued like she was preaching. “Yeah. You’re gonna be worth something up in here. I’ll make sure you never see another dick for at least a year if they say you can stay with us. I’m gonna do my best to make sure your sweet ass ends up right here at Lynwood Regional. You ain’t gonna get no Paris Hilton treatment up in here. Me and the ladies right here, we have very close ranks with those who matter, so don’t even think about making a big deal of this little cherry-busting moment, otherwise the next time we’ll lock your ass in a broom closet and bring Dildo Devine in here. Or have Judy the Ripper fuck you in the boiler room or the laundry room. But you need to know, no matter who finds out in the ranks, they don’t fuck with us when it means we’re getting in the ass of child molesters. They’ll tolerate murderers and rapists before you. They prefer we teach you an early lesson just to welcome you to the family. See, statutory rape gets you fucked every night. And even if you do tell, there’s still a nice, horny female officer who’ll show up at your cell after the nine-o’clock count and make you lick her ass with grape jelly. Fuck with us, okay?”
Brandi moaned and her body quaked with fear. She fought not to cry but was losing the battle. She wept and sucked and received and wept some more.
“What’s wrong? Oh, I see you don’t like women very much. Go ahead, Shower, pull that shit out of her ass.” Her partner in crime did as she was told, drawing the long, wide handle from Brandi’s asshole. “I think it’s time to focus only on that coochie.” The woman stepped back and released the now-dented banana from Brandi’s mouth. Brandi gave a long, gagging cough and started breathing unsteadily. “I wanna watch this up close and personal.” She stepped back around Brandi, standing to her side. “Fuck my friend’s fist back. You got that nice big fist up your tight pussy. Fuck her like her hand is the very dick your sick ass was used to. Since you like to fuck so much.”
Brandi pushed her hips back. With every insertion she pressed forward. With every withdrawal she retreated. For a dozen times more she got plummeted with the woman’s fist until the fist was yanked out abruptly. A little more urine escaped from Brandi’s urethra.
The woman bent down to speak in her ear. Her breath was hot and stale. Brandi closed her eyes. “Now get the fuck up and pull your pants up and get the fuck out of here. And baby, this little incident ain’t nothing new. You’re a statistic, part of a very high percentage, so get used to it. And now that you’ve been branded, your ass is mine. Pleased to meet you, with your pretty pussy. Oh, and by the way, my real name is Coffee. I have five more months here so we’ll have lots of fun.” She stood up straight and continued. “Yeah, you’re my new bitch, bitch. Oh excuse me, your new name is Brandi bitch.” She took the bristle part of the brush that served as her dildo and popped Brandi on her backside. “Nice ass.” The three walked away.
Brandi trembled from the coldness of being scared and kept her eyes closed as she heard the six footsteps fading away, then she heard a door open slowly and creak to a close.
She held her breath and turned around to sit in the chair she’d gotten raped on. She exhaled madly. Her mind sat with her in shock. Her whole body and the air around her smelled of pee. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, and rubbed the dripping snot from her nose with the back if her hand. She saw her wet jumpsuit that had been sitting in the spill of her own piss, slipped her feet into it, still wearing her rubber-soled shoes, also wet, and balled up her panties, gripping them tight in her hand.
The sobriety game was over.
And a whole new game had begun.
The next afternoon, Teela sat at the light gray counter of the visiting area on the other side of the thick glass, which separated her from her friend, Brandi Renee Williams, also known by booking number 3743330, who was in deep trouble. She was still in the large, sterile-looking, cold jail facility.
“What in the heck happened?” Teela asked in obvious amazement, holding on to the chipped, black receiver. “Brandi, what were you thinking?”
Brandi didn’t move her body. Only her lips. She barely blinked her bloodshot eyes. “It’s so easy for people to throw stones when they live in glass houses.” She sounded like she was dying of thirst.
“But Brandi, a minor?”
“I was drunk.”
“Girl, you know alcohol is no excuse.”
Brandi held tight to the receiver and licked her chapped lips, swallowing hard before she spoke in a monotone voice. “I’ve heard that from everyone, from my mother to my new ex-boss, Mrs. Ross, to my attorney. But you know what, Teela? If what I’ve been through in just the short amount of time in this hellhole is called paying for what happened, then as bad as it’s been, I’m accepting the fact that I’ll stay right here and finish out what I have coming to me until God says I’m done. Like Reverend Honeycutt said in church that day, we need to endure hardness as good soldiers. And no doubt, I have to be one. I have to be. But I can’t help but think that no matter if they put me in isolation or not, the truth is that even when I get out, I’ll have no job, no family, and no life. So as of right now, if the best you can do is intensify my guilt level, go right ahead. I can take that easily. That thirteen-year-old boy didn’t have the luxury of isolation. So as of today, I’m guilty as charged.”
Teela nodded and looked down, and then glanced to her left, eyeing the many visitors who sat in a row. She looked down again and spoke. “By the way, I was accused of peeping in the window of a neighbor.”
“Teela, did you?”
“I was looking for Austin, that’s all. That was the night we broke up. That’s how I found him.”
“So you peeked in every condo?”
“He was in the one right across from it. It was by accident.”
“Accident. Okay. Damn.”
“Damn is right.” Teela sighed and rubbed her upper arm. “So, what’s your bail?”
“Too high.”
“What is it?”
“Five hundred thousand. I need fifty thousand to get out.”
“Damn again.”
Brandi began to hold on to the receiver tighter, talking straight up. “Teela, do you know that I went to a sex shop to see what was up with the glory hole you talked about the first night I met you? I’ve continued pretending to be a streetwalker, fucked strange men, giving them head more times than
I can remember. I have no control over what I do any more than I would have control in here. Honestly, I hope I stay in here and get treated like shit. Because I am shit. If I couldn’t start this whole ‘stop lusting and become sober’ shit before, I guess I have no choice now. It might just take my freedom to change me. I’m willing to do whatever.” Her face looked like she was ready to cry, but no tears fell.
“I understand. But Brandi, for right now, you have to stay focused on your case. You’ll be fine. I just know it.”
“I guess have to. I won’t be having a drink or a good fuck up in here.”
Teela carefully examined every line and feature on Brandi’s face. She looked ten years older than she did only days ago. “Are you okay? What’s going on in there? I know this is hell, but you just look like you’re zoned out.”
“This is probably just the real me. No tequila. No need to be charming. Just me.”
“Okay,” Teela said, as she looked around. “Girl, I’m gonna have to run. I’ve got a guy coming in with his employees to get a tour soon. But I’ll be back to see you. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Stay up.”
“I’ll try. Teela. By the way, I liked him.” Brandi’s eyes were glassy and far away. She looked down at the scar from her slit wrist, and back at Teela.
“You what?” Teela looked like her ears were deceiving her.
“The thirteen-year-old. My student. Keyshaun. I liked him.” Her face was swaddled in guilt.
“Oh, Brandi.” Teela gave Brandi a warning look and then leaned back and reached into her pants pocket. “Girl, I’m gonna see if I can send you this coin.” She held up the silver SA chip. “I got it at the last group meeting. On the front it says, ‘To thine own self be true.’ It celebrates twenty-four hours of recovery. No sex.”
Brandi said, “Congratulations.” Her voice was still unvaried.
“Thanks.” Teela pushed her chair back a bit. “And by the way, it has the Serenity Prayer on the back. Remember to ask this, ‘God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.’ I mean, it couldn’t hurt.”