Queen of the City

by Tamicka Higgins

  “Ok, Miss Sutton. You said he had you raped. Who is he?”

  “Don.”

  “Don Wallace, had you raped? What made you say that?”

  “Afterward, I went to the back where the girls dress and get ready for the show. Nobody was back there when I went in there. The club was full of ballers, so I knew it would probably be empty. Moments later, Don comes back there and he’s, you know, insinuating that if I had become one of his club dimes like he offered me, none of this would have happened.”

  He handed me some more Kleenex. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before I continued.

  “So I’m just sitting there thinking while he is talking like… how did he know what just happened? So, I’m just putting two and two together that me rejecting his offer to be a club dime earlier that day had something to do with it. So, I just snapped. I picked up the closest, hardest thing I could and I smacked him across the face with it until somebody pulled me off of him.”

  The detective leaned back in his seat, rubbing his chin. I couldn’t tell if he thought I was full of shit or not but the tears that were falling from my eyes were real.

  “Do you know who your attacker was?”

  “No. I’ve never seen him before until that night. He was tall, though. Light skinned, a nappy fro. It was dark though so I can’t really remember the details.”

  “Do you want to do a rape kit?”

  “What is that?”

  “They will swab you and get any DNA evidence they can so they can find out who raped you.”

  “No, officer. I just want this to be over. I just want to go back home and forget all this ever happened. I shouldn’t have even come out here in the first place.”

  He stood up, visibly bothered by what I just told him. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but I just wanted to leave.

  “We’re going to keep you here overnight so we can sort some of this stuff out. Right now, it’s just he said she said, and Don Wallace is ready to press charges against you for what you did to him. But before any of that, I’m going to look into this rape. If you change your mind about doing a kit, just let one of the guards know and we will get you taken care of, alright?”

  “Alright.”

  He sighed and left the room. A few moments later, another guard came in and placed me in a holding cell. I thought it was all fucked up. I’m the one that got raped, but I was the one in jail. It didn’t make sense to me, but I didn’t question it. I felt like Don got what he deserved and I still wished he was dead. I sat in the cell by myself. Minutes went by like hours. Every time I heard the door open, I hoped it was detective Spencer coming in with good news, but it felt as if he would never come.

  “Excuse me?” I got the attention of one of the guards. “Can you get me an ink pen and some paper, please?”

  He came back with what I requested, smiling at me in a way that said he wanted my attention. I took the items from him and rolled my eyes. I had no interest in niggas, especially after what just happened to me. I didn’t want anything to do with them. I went back and sat on the cold, awkward mattress and leaned against the wall. I’d been in jail before so this was nothing new to me. I didn’t feel at home, but I wasn’t intimidated. I wrote rap lyrics down on the paper and scribbled them out over and over. It felt as if I had to learn how to walk all over again.

  That shit was wack, Lyric. You gotta come harder than that, I said to myself as I balled up paper time and time again, tossing it onto the floor. Out of frustration, I threw the notebook on the ground and laid back down on the stiff mattress. The tears flowed out of the side of my eyes again. Maybe I left rap alone for too long, I thought, maybe I’m really done with it. I turned over on my side and went to sleep.

  “Baby… baby, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  I got up off my mattress and saw him standing there. He had on the same thing he was murdered in, but it was cleaned up. No blood stains, no bullet holes. Just him.

  “Junie?”

  “Who the fuck you think it is? Shit. It ain’t the fuckin’ boogie man.”

  I scooted back against the wall as he walked closer to me.

  “Aw, come on Lyric, don’t be like that. I ain’t here to hurt you.” He sat down on my bed. “I miss you, though. I can tell you that much. Shit ain’t the same without you.”

  “Yeah, I… I know the feeling.”

  “What the fuck are you doing in here though? I mean, the fuck are you doing in Chicago?”

  “I… shit, I just lost my way when you died, Junie. I mean, shit. You were my life. You were my everything. But then you just fuckin’ left me.”

  I felt myself getting angry.

  “You actin like I did that shit by choice. I didn’t want to leave you. I wasn’t ready to fuckin’ go, but shit, it was out of my control. I couldn't do anything about it, baby; you know that. You know if I had the choice, I’d be right here with yo’ ass, loving you and makin’ beats for you like always.”

  “I know… it’s just…”

  “It’s hard; I feel you, baby. But you gotta keep going. That shit is still in you; you haven’t lost it. Yo’ name is Lyric. You can’t help but flow and shit.” He got up and walked over to the paper that I balled up, picking one of them up and unraveling it. “Like this here… this shit here is dope. You just gotta believe in it. You gotta know that you still got it.”

  “But I don’t, baby; I don’t!” I felt my emotions getting the best of me.

  “Wait, calm down, baby, just take it easy. Listen, I’m here with you, baby. I’m here, and I’ll always be here. You’ll never be alone, aight? Whenever you feel like it’s gettin’ too hard for you, just think of us. Put me on that stage with you. Put me on that page with you and just go, aight? Write the shit out of them bars like I’ve always known you to do. Since high school. Remember that first time you spit off the dome when I was making that beat on the table?”

  I laughed, “Hell yeah, I remember that shit.”

  “Exactly. That’s when it was easy. Remember those times because even now, it’s just as easy. Maybe even easier since you’ve been doing it for so long.”

  “It’s just not the same, Junie.”

  “Baby, just write. I’m here, aight. I’m on that paper. I’m in that ink pen. I’m guiding your hand when you write. I’m here. Just trust me, ok?”

  I wiped the tears from my eyes, “Aight.”

  “Now, shit, I gotta get going. I love you, though, aight? Remember that shit.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  I woke up with the paper that I balled up laying on top of me. I didn’t know how much of what just happened was a dream or reality. I know that Big Mama told me that spirits are known to visit loved ones after they die. Maybe it was really him. I sat up on my bed and grabbed the ink pen that laid next to me. I took a deep breath and wrote,

  Bitches thought I was done/but I’m back with the 45 in ya’ back like Bone/reclaiming my throne/muthafuckas thought it was sweet/when Junie was gone/but I’m back with a new beat/Shit is hectic, but I own these streets/my name is on the block/bitches act funny/they get the Glock tucked to their dome like fitted caps.

  I dropped the pen and smiled. It flowed naturally this time. I wasn’t forcing it and honestly, I felt like Junie was standing right by me while I wrote it. I knew what I had to do. I was going back to Milwaukee because Chicago was not where I needed to be. Stripping was not what I needed to be doing. Not at all.

  Detective Spencer came into my cell early the next morning,

  “Come on; you’re out.”

  I opened my eyes, lifting myself onto my elbows as I laid on the bed, “Huh?”

  “You’re free to go. I’ll give you the details when we get to the other room.”

  I walked like a zombie down the hall, clinching the notebook paper I wrote on throughout the night. It was my new beginning, and it was birthed while I was in solitude. He took me back to the same room and pulled the chair out for me.

 
; “Miss Sutton, we checked out your story. We went back to the club to see if there was any footage of you going to the backroom. Come to find out; all the cameras were shut off that would have ID’d the suspect. There was no evidence that you even went to the back room, but the cameras suddenly began working around the time you began to beat Don Wallace. When we questioned him about it, he said that he wasn’t aware that they weren’t working. When we pressed him harder, he started to fold and in the process, dropped the charges against you.”

  “So, he admitted to having something to do with it?”

  “No, not yet. But we talked to a few of the people at the club, and one of the girls said she had faced a similar situation as you. Even though she didn’t get raped, she said she was set up to be. It turns out; he has been doing this for a while. He doesn’t know that we are aware these things, but we’re building a case against him.”

  “Ok. So, what do I do?”

  “You’re free to go. We will be in contact with you in the future in the instance that we find your attacker—”

  I cut him off, “I don’t want anything else to do with this. I just want to move on, Detective. I just want to bury this shit and not look back.”

  “If only it was that easy,” he shook his head, “if only it was that easy.” He stood up, “Do you need a ride back to your home?”

  I paused for a moment, looking off to the side, “Yes. I’d appreciate that.”

  “We’ll have you back home in a moment. Sit tight.”

  They called a cab for me and took care of the fare. It was a long ride through the city in rush hour. It looked much different from Milwaukee. The downtown was bigger; the buildings were taller. It was something that I didn’t think I would ever get used to. I grew accustomed to the small, cozy city of Milwaukee. I don’t know what it was, but I just loved being there. I called Quandra a few times as I rode in the car. Her phone just kept ringing, or it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t think anything of it. Knowing her, she was out fuckin’ with some niggas from the city or some shit like that. It took about an hour before we finally made it to the hotel. All I wanted to do was get in the shower and relax before I found my way back to Milwaukee.

  I knew Quandra was supposed to stay for a few more weeks, but I was going to convince her to take me back to Milwaukee later that night. It was only about a two-hour drive, and I had the money to front her for gas or whatever money she would lose at the club tonight by taking me. I swiped the key on the door and pushed it open. When I walked in, the room was a mess. The covers on top of the bed were thrown to the floor; the dresser drawers were halfway open. My lamp was flipped over along with the nightstand it was sitting on top of.

  What the fuck? I thought as I slowly walked through the room. All of Quandra’s luggage was gone. Her clothing, her makeup, everything. I didn’t make sense of it until my heart dropped and I immediately began to put things together in my mind. I kept my money wrapped up in a sock, tucked far against the wall under my bed. I dropped my purse and ran to it, reaching my hand under the bed and feeling all around for it. I didn’t feel anything. No fuckin’ way, I thought to myself as I leaped up from the bed and moved to the other side, feeling in areas I may have overlooked.

  “No, no! No!” I said out loud as I pulled my phone out of my purse. I called Quandra; her phone went straight to voicemail. I dialed four times back to back, and it was the same response. I threw my phone into the wall as it broke into pieces on impact. I had over $3,000 wrapped up in that sock under the bed, and it was all gone. Big Mama warned me about Quandra. I even picked up on a little bit of her shadiness earlier in the week, but I ignored it. Now, I was ass out. The only money I had was the couple hundred dollars the dude had tucked on me before he raped me. I didn’t even want it; it reminded me of something I just wanted to let go of. I sat on the floor and cried out loud with my hands over my face. I couldn’t believe all of this happened to me since I came to Chicago. It was just proof that I didn’t need to be here. I should never have come.

  I ended up catching a greyhound back to Milwaukee. It was a much longer ride than it would have been riding in a car, but it was all I had. I left everything in that hotel room. My clothes, my suitcases, everything. Anything that reminded me of this trip is what I wanted to forget about. The greyhound ticket was only $25, so I put the rest of the money in a man’s hat who was performing on his saxophone close to the bus station. I don’t even think he stopped to look at the amount I put in there, he just smiled and kept playing. The only thing I could reflect on during my way back to Milwaukee was rapping, but the thought of Big Tuck couldn’t help but creep in my mind. Part of me still wanted him to pay for what he did to Junie. It wasn’t fair to me that he was still alive while I was going through all of this without Junie. He would have wanted me to leave it alone because he knew it could end up with me being dead but I was always a hard head. I never listened to the first words of warning. It was just who I was.

  I made it into Milwaukee later that evening. The city was just as grimy as it was when I left. A few crackheads tried to sell me half of a cheeseburger for 50 cents as soon as I got off the bus. Shit, it was Milwaukee though. I expected it. The bus station wasn’t far from where Big Mama lived, so I took the walk.

  A few people waved to me as I walked past, “Hey Suzie! Where you been?!” I waved back at them and didn’t say a word. They were going to see me again but now just wasn’t the right time. I started to feel appreciated again. Not like the piece of meat I was looked at as when I stepped on stage as a stripper. I thought about Quandra again. I thought about what I would do to her if I saw her again. Another person on my list that I probably should have just left alone but the anger inside me wouldn’t let it go.

  I finally got to Big Mama’s house. Little kids were still outside playing as it wasn’t too late in the evening when I showed up. Cars still sped down the block without slowing down for the sake of the children. Some things never change, I thought to myself as I walked up the cement steps to the house. I didn’t have my keys, so I rang the doorbell and waited for a few moments. She eventually came to the door.

  “Now, who is ringing my bell this time of night?”

  I could hear her fussy voice on the other side of the door. I smiled as I listened to the latches unlock. When she opened the door, she was in her nightgown with her hair wrapped up in a scarf.

  “Now who—”

  She paused, getting a good look at me as she flickered on the porch light.

  “Lyric? Oh my God, baby, Lyric! Is that you?”

  “I’ve been praying for you, baby. I’ve been praying for you mightily!” She quickly opened the door and put her arms around me tight.

  I embraced her back as silent tears fell down my face. It felt good to have her arms around me. To feel the love from somebody, you knew loved you unconditionally. I imagined that she thought I really wouldn’t come back and maybe she was prepared for it. She had a good reason to think that way because we barely spoke to each other since I went to Chicago. I was stripping, and it was something in me that made me believe she would just know that’s what I was doing out there. She slept early, and I worked late, so I used that as an excuse the few times we did talk, and I rushed her off the phone.

  “Big Ma, I know you gotta go to sleep, and I’m about to step out for a bit. I’ll talk to you later, ok? I love you,” and I would hang up before she could give any rebuttal. I was just calling her to let her know I was still alive because I knew how she worried. I was back home now, though. Back where I belonged, and shit wasn’t going to be like it was when I left. I was hungry. Hungry to reclaim my throne as the best female emcee and hungry for revenge and no matter what, I wasn’t going to stop until I was full.

  Chapter 8

  That night, I slept much longer than I normally did. I thought the trauma of Junie’s death would have been removed from me by now, but it was still there. I woke up periodically, sweat dripping from my forehead because of nightmares. I k
ept replaying Junie’s death over and over, which made me want to go after Big Tuck even more. I heard Big Ma walk into my room a couple of times to check on me. She regularly woke me up whenever she felt I was sleeping too long, but this time, she just let me rest. I appreciated that. I looked over at my clock when I finally rose from my bed, 12:47 pm. I felt sluggish when I got up. It seemed as if I was wrestling with something all night as parts of my body ached to no end. I slowly got out of my bed and crept down the hallway.

  “Big Mama?”

  I called out for her, but the house was bone silent. In the kitchen, a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes sat on the stove covered in Saran wrap. It still had a bit of warmth coming from it, so I knew she cooked it not too long ago.

  “Big Ma?”

  Still nothing. I checked her room, and it was spotless. The bed was made up, dresser was spotless, and the floor had vacuum marks laid across it perfectly. She usually got up at the crack of dawn and had the house clean by 8 am.

  “Girl, you stay in the bed and sleep. By the time you get up, half the work is done.”

  I remembered her fussing at me when I tried to sleep in on weekends in high school. She hadn’t done it much these days since I got out the hospital but I knew it was just her showing compassion. All I had to do was give it a couple of months, and I knew I’d hear her voice telling me to get up earlier than I wanted to. I walked back into the kitchen and uncovered the plate. One thing I missed when I was gone was the home cooking. Big Ma didn’t play in the kitchen. She tried to show me the way around in there, but I wasn’t interested. Not in the least.

  I finished my plate and headed into the front room dressed in a wife beater and sweats. The sun beamed down through the curtains, and a slight breeze blew into the front room. Days like this, I usually went out on the porch and relaxed. Listening to little kids run up and down the street playing, wishing that I was that age again, but these days I didn’t feel like doing much reminiscing. My mind always went back to Junie’s death, and it seemed that was as far back as it could go. I had flipped through the channels before I heard a knock at the door. Shaunie and Vinny stood on the other side as I peeked out the window.