by T. J. Hope
“Sorry,” Jamika said in a fragment of a whisper.
Marjorie started, “Felise is hurt pretty bad. Sly did quite a number on her. You know, I’ve never had anything against your son, Millie. But, I will kill him if he ever tries some shit like this again. You better talk to him or something.” Her tone of voice sounded like she wanted to kill him right then.
Marjorie did not play around. Everyone knew that she carried, and also that she wasn’t bashful in using it. She’d popped a few that needed to find out the hard way and even hit a dude with her car one time when her gun jammed.
“Girl, I don’t blame you for sayin’ that. Just ‘cause he my son, don’t make it right. Just don’t kill him, Marjorie, send him home crippled, but please don’t kill my boy.” Marjorie didn’t respond which silently confirmed that she was not agreeing to that.
“Well, I guess I’ll go in to see him. How’s Jamika and the baby?”
“Jamika is fine, just a mild concussion. I’m waiting for them to release the baby to me now,” Marjorie replied.
“Well, don’t leave. I am going to look in on Sly and then I wanna see my new grandbaby.”
“Okay,” Marjorie answered, slightly annoyed.
A light-skinned, plump, smiling nurse finally brought out the baby. Millie had long seen Sly and had decided to wait around to see the baby. “She’s a beautiful baby, just sign right here ma’am and she’s all yours,” said the nurse. Marjorie signed the document and they all stood there looking at the beautiful child born in the midst of all the confusion.
Finally Millie spoke, “Listen Marjorie, why don’t you let Jamika stay over wit’ the girls until tomorrow? They haven’t seen her in a while and everybody is worried sick ‘bout her. It would give you a lil’ break; you already got a lot to handle in your arms right there.”
Jamika wanted to shout out, “No please, don’t make me go.” But, then she knew Marjorie would ask why, and after all that had transpired that night, now was definitely not the time. It was already 4:45 a.m., and Marjorie was exhausted, so she agreed.
Jamika was close to tears as she rode the short ride to Millie’s house from the hospital. Mille had already begun scolding her. “Listen ‘ere girl, don’t you eva put yo’ fuckin’ hands on yo’ daddy! Did you see what you did to him? Whateva goes on between yo’ momma and him, is between them. Stay yo’ little grown ass out of it! Who the hell you thank you is, hitting a grown man in the head wit’ somethin’? You eva let me hear some shit like this again and I’m fuck you up myself. You hear me?”
Jamika’s had a slight concussion and her head still hurt immensely. She was too exhausted to let even Millie further upset her. There were only about two hours left until daylight. The rat-infested house did not scare her tonight. Her headache was back, as the pain medication she was given at the hospital had worn off. She looked at her grandma and yawned, “Yes, ma’am.” She closed her eyes and was asleep before the words had completely left her lips.
She felt jerking at her legs and opened her eyes. Jamika could see someone hovered over her. It took her a moment to recall where she was and why. Hubert clasped his hand tightly over her mouth and whispered, “You take this dick and shut up; I’ll still kill your ass. You almost killed my brother, you little bitch. Yeah, you going to take this dick tonight.”
He pushed himself inside of her, and the pain was intense. Jamika did not cry. She just took it. Her insides burned and felt like they were tearing. She just closed her eyes and hoped for a day when this would all go away.
Chapter Six
Jamika walked down the slightly crowded hallway of Lauderhill Middle School. This was Jamika’s last year of middle school. Her sixth grade year had brought out her talents. Jamika was a member of chorus, drama and modeling, and she loved to dance. Her talents had made her quite popular.
Today, as she walked down the hall, she was engrossed in her thoughts. She had spent the weekend at Millie’s. She liked going over there now. Millie was getting older and didn’t bother her as much. Hubert hadn’t touched her in over a year; he had moved in an apartment house with his girlfriend. Also, Jamika’s boyfriend, Marquis, lived down the street, and she could spend time with him on the weekends.
Marquis was a junior at Dillard High School. He played on the varsity basketball team. Jamika was still very dark-skinned, and her features were beautiful. Her lips were full and her hazel eyes twinkled from the slightest amount of light. She was more developed than the average thirteen-year-old girl was. She had big breasts, and was what guys liked to refer to as “thick”. She had a walk that looked like smooth silk blowing in the wind.
High school guys and adult men often tried to hit on her. She didn’t understand why most of the attractive middle school boys, seemed to be attracted to the light-skinned skinny types. However, she liked Marquis a lot. She loved being with him and the excitement of going to high school basketball games to cheer him on. But, she would have loved to have a boyfriend at her own school. She wanted someone to walk her to class and eat lunch with her.
She was deep in her thoughts when Mark called out from behind her, “Meek, wait up!” She turned around to see Mark pushing through the crowded hallway to catch up to her. Jamika had a huge crush on Mark Rosier. Mark was light-skinned, with chestnut eyes that reminded Jamika of almonds. His head was topped with short, wavy hair. He always dressed nice and was quite the comedian. They had started hanging out together after their best friends; Colita and James, had become a couple.
They’d often all go over to Mark’s house after school. They would play video games, board games, laugh and talk. He lived in the condos right across the street from the townhouses Jamika lived in, courtesy of Section Eight government housing assistance.
She liked Mark even more than she liked Marquis. But, she knew that Mark was also attracted to the red, thin girls. With her being dark and thick, Mark would always see her as only a friend.
“Girl, why are you walking all fast? I know you’re not in that much of a rush to get to Ms. A’s class,” Mark was saying.
“No, it’s not that. I’m just not feeling it today, you know?”
“Oh, you must have heard. Listen, don’t pay Trish no attention.”
Trisha Watson was Mark’s ex-girlfriend. About two weeks earlier, Jamika had a birthday party at the skating rink. She’d invited Mark and not invited his girl. Being that it was a public rink, Trisha had showed up anyway.
Jamika and Mark had been out skating their asses off together. They were crossing their legs, skating backwards and moving to the music. Jamika had almost fallen. Mark grabbed her to stabilize her. Jamika felt a warm tingle leave his hand and enter her body. They both began to laugh. Jamika’s smile was erased as she spotted Trisha standing over in the corner with her arms crossed looking their way. She wore tight blue jeans that fit like they were tailored for her, with a red, tight fitting knit sweater. Her long, beautiful hair fell on her shoulders, and her face was that of a model’s.
Trisha and Jamika had never gotten along. Both girls were extremely popular, but for very different reasons. Trisha’s looks and clothes gave her popularity; with Jamika, it was her talents. Jamika was down to earth; Trisha was bourgeois and for that reason, they did not mix.
Trisha started to skate towards them. Jamika said to Mark, “Here comes your girl.”
“Who Trish?”
“Who else?”
“So what?”
“What do you mean, so what? You know how she is about you, and you do realize that you are still holding onto me.”
“Yes, I realize that, and like I said before, so what?”
At that point, their eyes had met, they both became silent and it was like their eyes were doing the talking.
A hard push jerked Jamika back to reality, as she saw the floor coming up to meet her. The pain jolted her as she hit the floor hard against her hip. Mark fell also, because he had been holding onto her. He had fallen hard on his arm, and even though he didn’t scream out in pain, his f
ace contorted. Jamika was holding her hip and making her way from the floor, saying, “I know you didn’t just push me down.” Trisha was smiling. Jamika leaped for her, but Mark had gotten to his feet and jumped between them.
Mark looked at Jamika and said, “Chill Meek, let me handle this.” Mark turned back to Trisha and said, “Why you do some stupid shit like that?”
Trisha turned beet red before replying, “Don’t be asking me any questions. What are you doing out here, skating with that black, smutty hoe?”It offended Mark the way that Trisha was calling Jamika names. “I can skate with whoever I want, you know Meek my homey.” Jamika had heard the remark Trisha made and was trying to get past Mark to her.
“Let her go!” screamed Trisha. “Let that hoe go!”
“No, I’m letting you go, Trish. Now, get out my damn face!” Mark screamed out at the top of his lungs.
Trisha looked like she’d been slapped. She skated away and left the rink. Mark had come to school with a cast on his arm. The fall had broken his arm.
Jamika grew angry at the mention of Trisha’s name. “Heard what?” she was asking Mark.
“Well, you know that they have you up against Trish for the ‘Most Popular’ superlative. She’s going around telling people that you like me and made me break up with her.”
“I did not make you break up with her,” Jamika said.
“I know, but you do like me.”
“No, I don’t,” Jamika lied. “What makes you think that I like you?”
“Uh n-nothing,” Mark stuttered. He continued, “Good thing we’re on the same level, homey. Don’t worry about Trish. That girl has issues.”
“Alright.”
“See you at lunch, I’ll save you a seat,” Mark yelled as he walked away.
Jamika looked after him, and even with the cast, he looked good. A chill went up her body as she turned the knob and stepped into her class.
-------------------------
The end of the school year had finally come. Everyone was excited about going to high school. Jamika would be going to Dillard High School to participate in the Performing Arts Magnet Program. Felise had found a home in a neighborhood called Parkway, so she’d be moving away from all of her friends. Felise was very excited that Jamika would be attending her old high school. Jamika was excited because she’d be at school with Marquis, and would finally have a boyfriend at her school.
She would miss Mark and Colita. They were both going to Boyd Anderson High, which was the high school for the district in which they lived. She and Mark had gotten really close. Mark always referred to her as his homey, so she never told him that she held special feelings for him.
On the last day of school, Jamika felt really down. She was leaving all of her friends, and Trisha had beaten her out for “Most Popular”. Mark walked along aside of her quietly as if in his own world of thought. Finally, he looked at her and said, “Meek, I’m going to miss you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, what you think? You cool with me.”
“Well, I am going to miss you too, a lot.”
“Aw, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he said, with a half grin.
“Stop playing, no it’s not.” Jamika said defensively.
“Yes, it is, every time I say something serious to you, you change the subject. It’s a good thing I never wanted to get with you; you would have dissed me a long time ago.”
Jamika immediately grew quiet. Why’d he have to go and say that? She wanted to at least leave with the thought that just maybe; Mark had secretly felt the same way about her. Well, now at least she knew the truth, and could go on without looking back.
Damn, Mark was thinking. Why had he said that? Mark was intrigued by Jamika. She was the first dark-skinned, heavyset girl he had ever found himself attracted to. He had felt that way before he broke up with Trisha, but was somewhat afraid of what people would say. After all, he had a reputation to maintain. His reputation demanded that he date only model-like girls. He sometimes felt as if Jamika liked him too, but she’d always shut him out if he as much as tiptoed around the subject. Now he was certain that she liked him. She had become too quiet after his untruthful outburst. Usually, she would have come back with some type of quick-witted response.
He looked over at her and took her hand. “Meek, how about you come over and have some ice cream and play some video games?” he asked.
“No, not today. I’ll see you later,” Jamika responded, still far away in other thoughts.
“Come on now, girl. This is the last day for the rest of our lives ever walking home from school together. I have your favorite, butter pecan.”
“Okay, but I’m only staying for a little while.”
At Mark’s house, they played Pac Man and Joust on the Atari, and ate butter pecan ice cream. They talked and laughed and Jamika wished the day would never end. “I won again! I’m hot today; you can’t touch me, boy!” Jamika joked.
Mark liked to see Jamika this way. She was happy, vibrant, and beautiful. He liked the way her hazel eyes contrasted against her dark skin. Jamika had eyes that made you think she could see right through you. He was taking a good look at her. He noticed the way her breasts stood firm against her sleeveless shirt. The way her skirt seemed to be drawn on her voluptuous thighs and behind. She was definitely sexy, every dark inch of her. Mark had actually been letting her win, so he could look at her. He wanted to remember her this way.
“Did you hear me? I said that…” Jamika started. Before she could finish her statement, Mark picked up a spoonful of melted ice cream and flung it at her. It landed on her cheek. She jumped up and charged at him. They began to wrestle and laugh. They fell to the floor and Mark ended up on top of her. All of a sudden, their eyes were glued together like they were the day at the skating rink. Mark ran his fingers over her lips. Soon they were kissing and touching each other with a passion that they never knew existed between them.
Suddenly, the door flew open and Mark’s mother stepped in. “What in the hell? Mark, I know you got more sense than to try to get this girl in my house. Jamika, I know you got more sense than to let Mark get you!” Jamika got off the floor, not realizing that her skirt had been pulled up from rubbing against Mark on the floor. Mark’s mother continued furiously, “Girl, pull down your damned skirt and go on home! I just may be giving your mother a call tonight.” Jamika pulled down her skirt in one violent tug, and ran from the house.
She knew that Felise would most likely punish her for the whole summer for this one. She wasn’t supposed to be in any boy’s house without their parents being at home. Although she was afraid, she couldn’t help but smile. Mark liked her too. As good as he had been at hiding it; it had all come out that day. She smiled and touched her lips, where his kiss had been only moments before. Well, it was all too late for that. They would be moving to Parkway in three weeks.
Later that evening, Felise, Jamika, and Rasheeda had just sat down to eat dinner. The townhouse was perfumed by the delicious smell of smothered pork chops with onions, yellow rice and green beans. Felise was going out on a date, so Jamika was feeling lucky that Mark’s mother hadn’t called yet.
Before the thought could completely tantalize her mind, the telephone began to ring. Jamika’s heart felt like it would burst through her chest. “I’ll get it!” Jamika said quickly, moving towards the phone.
“No, Mika, I’ll get it. Whatever little boy you’re waiting to talk to, can talk to you when you are finished eating your dinner.” Jamika reluctantly sat back down and hoped it wasn’t the call she’d been dreading.
“Hello,” Felise said, answering the phone. “Yes, this is she, who’s speaking please? How can I help you? Yes? Um-hmmmm…What?” Felise looked at Jamika with a confused look, and Jamika braced herself for the punishment that would be following that phone call. “Oh, okay,” Felise continued. “No, she didn’t mention anything to me…most definitely…I’m going to have a talk with her now. Thanks for
calling. Oh yes, what is that number again?” Felise began to scribble on the message pad near the phone. “I’ve got it, thanks again. Bye now.”
Felise hung up the phone and looked at Jamika with a confused look. Jamika knew Felise was disappointed in her. She figured she’d just tell the whole truth and get it over with quickly. The one thing Felise tolerated least was lies. “Rasheeda, take your meal to your room, baby. I need to talk to your sister.” “Okay, Momma,” replied six-year-old Rasheeda, leaving the table to follow her mother’s order.
“Mika,” Felise began, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jamika wondered what kind of question that was. What would she say? Mom, I got caught in Mark’s house, kissing him, with my skirt pulled up to my waist. Be for real; she believed in being honest, but come on. She remained quiet to get this over with as quickly as possible.
“I’ve always told you that you could tell me anything, I am your mother. I am here for you when the whole world is against you.” She’s taking this really well, Jamika was thinking. “I know it’s hard to talk about, but you have to go ahead and let it out.” It’s not the getting it out that I am worried about; it’s the getting out in one piece that scares me, Jamika was thinking.
“Trust me; I’ll kill that motherfucker if he ever touches you again! Why won’t you say anything, Mika? Did that bitch Millie know about this?”
Jamika finally spoke up. “Ma, what are you talking about?”
“That damned Hubert, tell me what happened baby, please!” Felise begged, close to tears.
It was then Jamika realized that somehow the can of worms had been freed. She never wanted her mother to hurt, or to have to face the horrors of what Hubert had done to her. Jamika slowly started to speak. Jamika started from the very first time he had touched her when she was six years old, until the very last time he had penetrated her at age eleven.
It turned out that Hubert had gotten drunk, and raped his girlfriend’s nine-year-old daughter. He had told the girl that he had two nieces that he used to have sex with all the time. When the girl told her mother what had happened and what had been said; she called the authorities. They knew about Jamika, and that he’d been molesting her cousin, Shaquita, over the years as well. She had recapped to her mother about the nights that they used to hold each other, crying, scared to lose their lives by telling on Hubert. So, when he moved away, they buried the secret, and began to move on with their lives.