The Matter Is Life

by J. California Cooper

  Anyway … Vanity was home. Home? Her back against her door. Hungry, wet, cold, dirty, stinkin and sick. She never had got that bump. They had just used her, again.

  Her body wanted to sleep, but she couldn’t get that bump, that feeling she wanted, out of her mind. Her brain raced, trying to think of somewhere, someone, she could get some money from. Sell some head to. She thought briefly of Mega, but Mega had loaned her so much in the beginning, never gettin it back. Now Mega watched her so carefully when Vanity was in her house because she had lost so many small valuable things that Vanity could put in her brassiere or under her dress. Couldn’t go there. The early mornin time never entered her mind cause when she wanted some dope, she didn’t care bout no inconvenience to nobody else.

  Sellin some of her head came back into her mind. Vanity’s mind snapped back to the man who had had anal sex with her then made her clean him with her mouth. She remembered the sores on his penis. She worried: AIDS? Syphilis? Gonorrhea? Herpes? What? She pulled her tired back away from the door, went to wash her mouth out with the peroxide Jody kept there for when she made oral sex to him. After she did other people in front of him sometimes to get both of them a bump, he didn’t like her to do him without washing her mouth out. Jody never wanted her body anymore. That is, when she did get to see him. She couldn’t see him noway less she had some crack to share.

  She rinsed her mouth. She didn’t think of the fact she had swallowed everything and that peroxide couldn’t reach it. Then she lay her tired, abused body across the old, dirty quilt thrown on her bedroom floor. She fell asleep … for awhile.

  The phone rang! She jumped awake to answer it. It was a fellow saying he had a rock he would share with her … for a little fun. She told him to come on over.

  He said, “No, we … I rather ride awhile.”

  She quickly answered, “Okey, I’ll be outside waitin.”

  They came. There was two of them, fellows. One got out to let her get in the middle and they drove off, sayin they was goin to somebody’s house. They had the rock.

  She asked, “How we all gonna use one rock?”

  They laughed, answered, “Ahhh, we share all things all the time.”

  But they drove too long, too far. She became afraid. The feelin in the car was not good. The men were groping over her legs, her breast. She kept pushin their hands away.

  She asked, “Where we goin? Where is the rock?”

  They laughed and turned off the highway. Who needs to tell it all?

  They finally stopped. Pale, early mornin. Deserted woods. They made her get out, go down, lay down, then go down again. She cried all through everything. Mad cause they had fooled her and there was no rock. Then they talked awhile to decide should they take her home or not.

  One, the “nice” one, said, “It’s kinda dark, man, and cold. Let’s take her back into town anyway.” So they did that. But they never did give her a bump or puff from their pipe. Why should they? They had had all the fun they wanted anyway. Well, at least they didn’t beat her too. Yes, they did that to her sometimes.

  Vanity still ain’t had no food.

  She didn’t have enough clothes on, she was frozen almost.

  She ain’t had no real sleep for almost four, five days.

  Her body is stinkin and dirty, again.

  But her brain still wouldn’t think of nothin but that dope. That bump. That puff from a pipe. What kind of stuff must that be that can strip you, make you do ANYTHING to get it? Take everything away from you? House, furniture, automobile, bank account, clothes; yours and everybody else’s you can get your hands on!? Takes your honor, your dignity, your pride in yourself. Your very life! I wouldn’t even want to SEE it, much less use it! It scares me to death!

  Well, she came to my house. She looked so bad, so sad, my heart broke for her. She wanted to “borrow” some of my little, hard-earned money. She already owed me plenty fore I got wise that she wasn’t gonna buy food or nothin she needed. Just dope.

  I fed her. Ran bath water, gave her some clean clothes. All mine was better than all hers now, and I really didn’t have nothin special. She lay down and slept. I took advantage of that to wash her clothes and run to the store to get somethin better for her to eat and to cash a small check to give her a few dollars of my small money.

  When I came back … she was gone. So was my watch I was stupid enough to leave layin on my dresser. My only watch what had belonged to my mother. I loved that watch! I cried. I know that crack took my watch, not her, but it was gone right on.

  Vanity didn’t stop to pawn my watch, I mighta got it back if she did. She took it straight to the crack dealer and got her three rocks for my beautiful watch. Then she went home and blew my watch away … in a hour and a half. Just like that!

  At last, her body just dragged her down to sleep. And even while sleep she waited for that phone to ring. When it did ring, she went out again … and everything started all over again.

  All over again. All her whole life now, given up for a bump, a hit, a puff, a feeling. A little piece of death … that had such a hold on her mind that only a full death is stronger. Or God. But she wasn’t likely to run into Him. Her Guardian Angel wasn’t allowed to go into the places she went into. Her Guardian Angel just sat over her and wept sometimes when she was home waitin for a call. It did that til she died, then they parted forever, and it went to its home, sadly sayin, “I hope I never have to go to Earth again.”

  Five years is all it took. Five years of days just like the one I’m tellin you about. She lived all that, every day, over and over and over again. And, surely, some worse ones I don’t know about.

  I couldn’t do it, couldn’t take it. I don’t want nothin that strong to kill my life and me! Do you? Would you?

  So … I am sittin here ponderin … ahhh, ponderin … thinkin about life … and death.

  Love.

  And Vanity.

  Lord, Lord.

  I

  TOLD

  HIM!

  I’m kinda mad about a lot of things, but I’m gettin better. For instance, bout my life. It’s my life! And I found out sometimes you got to fight other people bout lettin you live your life your way! I know you gonna think I’m crazy. But I ain’t! I just haven’t never lived too long doin things my way with myself. At first, I didn’t know what I wanted to do bout everything, but I sure did know what I didn’t want to do. But people don’t care bout that! People just care bout what THEY want for you to do! I didn’t never plan my life the way it went. But, I bet you right now, I’m sure gonna be the one decides from now on just who I’m gonna let drive me crazy!

  Just listen to me. Pleasssse! I’m gonna tell you bout it!

  Now … when I was in school, a little, little girl, Wallace always got some way to get to be round me. Wallace was the worsest, baddest, meanest boy you ever want to meet in your life! He was a ugly little boy … and mean! He sat behind me in every class I ever had in school. Always pullin my braids, jerkin my head back, oh! all kind of things did Wallace do to me. When he couldn’t touch me, he just stared at me. I told him not to do it, but he did it anyway! I just hated to see him comin at me every mornin.

  All the while we was growin up, he did so many things to make my life miserable, I just don’t know how to tell you. All through school he jerked, kicked, pulled, pushed, tried to kiss me! He took my sweaters, tore up my notebooks, stole my homework, ate my lunches. Just stare at me when the teacher catch him. Oh, I told him not to do it, but he did it anyway! We grew up that way. At least, I grew up, he just stayed the same stupid dunce!

  We had to grow up, alright, nothin can’t stop that but death.

  At recess, or lunchtime, he use to make me sit in one spot. Better not move, or he would hit me! Always threatenin me! Ball his fist up and make me cringe. Stare me down. Wouldn’t do it to nobody else. I use to pray to God to please let Wallace like on somebody else. I didn’t care bout givin no bad luck to nobody else, I had done already had enough bad luck of my
own called Wallace! No matter how I tell him not to do somethin, he’d do it anyway!

  By time we got ready to graduate junior high school, I just knew things was gonna change. That Wallace would go on and be in some other classes. Leave me alone cause there be so many other kids there for him to torture. Well, that didn’t work out cause Wallace took most every class I took, whether he liked em or not. I told him, begged him, not to do it, but he did it anyway!

  All cept the auto-mechanic class. He REALLY didn’t like that class. I kinda liked workin with mechanical things. But I really took it cause it was the only thing he wouldn’t take. I guess he thought the other fellows would see how dumb he was, compared to them. He said he knew he was gonna be a butcher like his father, so it didn’t make him no never-mind bout what he took in school!

  That’s the way I HAD to grow up, cause nothin coulda stopped Wallace but death.

  All through high school he kept doin bossy, controllin things to me. And things was gettin to be pretty important in my life. Things I needed to decide for myself, he was decidin for me! He had done told all the other boys not to mess with me, I was his! They was scared of him cause he was so bad and didn’t fight fair. So, you know they didn’t mess with me. NONE! I told him not to do that, but he did it anyway!

  Now, along come prom time. Everybody graduatin and all, excited and lookin forward to the prom to wear your first grown-up formal dress. That sposed to be the best time of your school life. I really wanted to go. Dreamed on it! And I sure don’t have to tell you, I did not want to go with Wallace!

  Chile, nobody would ask me on account of Wallace! He’s the only one asked me. No … he told me I was goin with him. Stared me down.

  Now, every time Wallace force hisself over to my house, he be the most different boy you ever want to see, in front of my mama. He have the most manners, be so polite and clean and helpful and neat. In front of my mama. So you know, naturally, she really liked “that Wallace boy.” I tried to tell her not to, but she did it anyway.

  I studied hard in school, got good grades. I was goin on to college. Had my grants and everything. That prom was important to me. Mama knew how bad I wanted to go, what it meant to me. So when it came to the prom and nobody else ask me, Wallace told my mama he wanted to take me. Now, you know she couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to go if I had to go with Wallace. She talked and talked to me. Finally she got mad, said, “You goin to that prom with Wallace. Ain’t nothin wrong with that boy! You just a ole hard-nose girl! What’s wrong with you?! You better get dressed and take your behind outta here to that prom!” I tried to tell her not to do that, but she did it anyway.

  Well, goin to the prom would have been alright except for after the prom. Wallace had a car. I got in, kinda laughin and happy cause I had had a almost good time even with Wallace there. Maybe cause I just knew that that was gonna be the last time I was ever gonna have to be round Wallace all the rest of the days of my life. But, after we got in the car, Wallace took me way out on the highway into the wild part of the country and MADE me, forced me, to let him make sex with me!

  Besides havin my best new dress on that me and Mama had done worked and saved for, I never had done that before and didn’t want to. I fought harrrrd. Tore my dress. Tore my stockings. Messed up my hair, pullin it. It hurt. It hurt. I hated it, I hated him. I told him, begged him not to do it … but … he did it anyway. Anyway!

  I sneaked into the house when he finally took me home. I shouldn’t have done it. I should have let my mama see what her Wallace choice had done to me. But I didn’t want her to see her daughter who had left home so pretty comin back in the condition I was in. I knew it would start up a whole lot of stuff. So, I decided, since I never had to set my eyes on Wallace again in life, nor get in his car neither, I would just let it pass. I shouldn’t have done that.

  Now, I ain’t quite learned bout who makes all the big rules in life, but life sure can be mean and hard sometime. It didn’t have to happen, but it did. Two months later, when my life was goin on pretty fine, I realized I was pregnant! I tried to hide it, til I could decide what to do, or if there was anything I could do. But, in some way, my mama could tell what was happenin to me in my body.

  She asked me, “Who did it? Who did this to you?!”

  I told her, “Your favorite! Wallace did it!” I was scared to say he raped me. I didn’t want big trouble. I sure didn’t want her to think I let him! So I just answered her question.

  Then she said, “Well, that little man will just have to marry you!”

  I liked to died! I pleaded, I begged. “Please don’t make me marry him! Don’t do it, Mama! Please. Let me have my baby on my own. I’ll take care of it. I’ll work. We don’t need him.”

  But she insisted. “I’m callin him over here right now! He gonna do the right thing by you. He is goin to marry you!” She called him.

  I begged her not to do it, but she did it anyway.

  He came over, not even shamed. Just lookin proud and mannish. They the ones who talked. Nobody ask me nothin! And it was my baby and my life!

  You know what he said, “If she hadn’t ask me to do it to her, I wouldn’ta. But you know I like your daughter. So … I did.” He stared at me like I better not correct him!

  My mama asked him, “Well, do you love her at all?”

  He told my mama, “Yes, I love her and I’ll marry her!”

  I begged him, begged him, not to do it, but he did it anyway.

  With my mama behind him, believing him, we got married. I cried all through the ceremony down at the city hall. They thought I was cryin cause I was happy. Some people did look at me kinda funny tho, cause I know my face didn’t look like no happiness! With me holding on to the doors tryin to keep from goin through? I know I didn’t look happy! But people tends to believe what is SUPPOSED to be is. I whispered to everybody would listen, “Don’t let em do this to me.” But they did it anyway.

  Oh! I hated it. I hated him! I didn’t love him at all! I didn’t want him to touch me on my weddin night. The most precious moments in a woman’s life. I spent mine cryin while he had his honeymoon on me.

  Bout seven months later my little beautiful brown baby was born. Oh! I loved it! It was mine. Not his. Mine.

  Life became a regular thing for me. By regular, I mean he regularly beat me cause I didn’t enjoy his lovemakin. I mean he regularly had other women, by the dozens. They called the house and came by when they got ready. Didn’t think nothin of me. I told him not to let them do that, but they did it anyway.

  Why did he marry me? And who in the world would WANT to call him? Why didn’t he marry them?

  He drank, regularly. Got traffic tickets, accidents, all that. I told him not to drink like that, but he did it anyway. He spent his money on other women, gambled, everything! I told him not to do it, he did it anyway. He fought me, abused me, gave me nothing of value for ten years. Ten years of pain, fear, tension, sadness, and finally boredom, even with fear and disgust. Cause I hated him on top of me. He just stare down at me while he tryin to make sex. I’d tell him not to do it, but he did it anyway.

  I came to slavery and hate. Yes, I slaved. And I hated. He wanted all things in all the wrong times. Midnight, he wanted supper, specially if I was sleeping. 4:00 A.M., he wanted breakfast, specially if I was sleeping and I usually was. Isn’t everybody? All day, every day, any hour, he wanted sex and he was using other women too! I was scared to say yes because I didn’t know if he had just got some disease from somebody, I was scared to say no cause I was tired of bein beat! I’d tell him not to do it, but he did it anyway. Every time.

  I had gonorrhea eight times, siftless three times. I PRAYED he didn’t bring nothin home they couldn’t cure. Oh, I told him not to do it, but he did it anyway.

  Now … I am not a mean woman. I am not a jealous woman, at least, not of him. I haven’t ever had a chance to see if I would love and be jealous of anyone else, he has run my life so much. I am not an envious woman. But I HATED. I hat
ed him. I told him what he was doin to me, but he did it anyway. Just stare me down, laugh and walk on away.

  Round bout that time, whenever it was, I started gettin jobs. Because we was always short of money all the time, naturally, cause he had to pay for his fun. My husband worked good, when he didn’t have a hangover or was layin round tryin to sue somebody from some accident that was his fault! I tried to save some little of whatever I made. Cause I had a child, and I had a dream! I had that dream ever since the first minute I got married. But everytime I got some money together, he would find it! Then spend it! On liquor and women. I told him not to do it, but he did it anyway.

  I just felt lost. Lost! Well, what can I say? What do you feel when everything keeps gettin lost? Your dreams, your money, your life?… and seems unreal? My life was so unreal. I KNEW people was livin better than I was. I knew people was in love with the person they married. I knew families was happy together … sometimes! Not me. Not mine.

  I had two kids now. He just took it, raped me when he wanted to. I told him not to do it, but he did it anyway. And we still wasn’t a family.

  Now, life didn’t leave me all out in the wilderness by myself. God is good. I had made a friend, down the street here, at the gasoline station. The man who owned it, Mr. Evers, a little older-type man, but very kind, very nice. So different from that man I was married to. Mr. Evers helped me get a little ole car on credit from his gas station. He knew Wallace tore up every car we got and I had to get to the baby-sitters and things so I could work. That’s the kind of person he was. He knew I needed help and so he gave it. I liked him.