Dear Drama

by Braya Spice

  “What? You mean to tell me that y’all dumb motherfuckers let a homeless bitch in here, and she had access to my business and life and told me I have AIDS?” I jumped from the examining table so fast that I lost my balance and fell on the floor. I jumped up again and snatched my purse from her. “Get the hell out of my way!”

  I yanked the door open. I ran to the reception area. I knocked over all the paperwork on their front desk.

  Then I screamed, “You unprofessional muthafuckas!” while whipping around in a circle.

  Silence was all I got. And a bunch of shocked expressions. From staff and patients.

  “I’m suing the hell out of y’all, and by the time I’m done, you gonna have to shut this bitch down. So get ready.”

  I went over to the children’s area to get Sierra. Unfortunately, she and the other kids over there had heard my rant.

  “Mommy, what happened to you head?” she asked.

  I ignored her question. “Come on.”

  We went home.

  While I was at the doctor’s, Bryce had called me on my cell phone and on my home phone. I didn’t return Bryce’s calls. I wanted the swelling on my head to go down before I saw him again. So I kept putting ice on the egg on my damn forehead. But truth be told, I did talk shit about suing them, but I wasn’t going to. It was a mistake. A big one. Nonetheless, they didn’t do it on purpose. I would rather have ten knots on my head than really have HIV. That was some scary-ass shit. I really wanted to die when that crazy woman read those results to me, and I thought my life was pretty much over. Thank God it was an error on a psycho’s part.

  As Sierra sat at the kitchen table to do her homework, I asked her, “What do you want for dinner?”

  “Cookies!”

  “How about some chicken fingers, potato salad, and string beans?”

  “Yeah, that sound good, Mommy. But can we make cookies for dessert?”

  I checked the cabinet to see if we had all the ingredients to make them. We had everything, down to half a package of chocolate chips. When I was a kid, I always loved to bake goodies, so Sierra and I often made cakes, pies, cookies, and whatnot together.

  “Yeah, we can. Hurry and finish your homework.”

  “Okay.”

  She finished her work quickly, and I scanned it while the chicken fingers were frying. Then I let Sierra help me with the potato salad.

  “Mama, you still didn’t tell me what happened to your head,” she said. I let her crack open the cooled boiled eggs.

  “The door bumped into me,” I joked and kissed her on her cheek.

  She laughed and said, “Mommy, doors don’t bump into people. People bump into them!” She had a little hand up when she made that statement.

  I shook my head at her. “Sierra, remind me to stop paying the babysitter.”

  “No, Mommy!” she exclaimed, giggling. That girl loved her some La La.

  “Then hush up and finish them eggs, girl.” I was only kidding with her, and she knew it. So she kept on doing the eggs.

  And, man, when we ate, you would have thought I was eating lobster bisque. That was how good the food tasted to me. It tasted good because I was okay. I didn’t have a life-threatening disease.

  After dinner Sierra and I whipped together some chocolate chip cookies. As they baked, I gave her a quick bath.

  As soon as she was asleep, I was going to give Bryce a call and cancel our date for tomorrow. “Seems like you’re ready. Girl, are you ready to go all the way?” I sang.

  Sierra giggled at me.

  “What you laughing at?”

  “You, Mommy, ’cause when you sing, you sound bad.”

  I cracked up laughing and swatted her little bottom. Then I held up a towel for her. “Go on and dry off. Put on your nightgown. I’m gonna get the cookies out. They should be done by now.”

  She dashed off to her room.

  I went into the kitchen to check on the cookies. They were done. I took them out of the oven, then let them cool down for about a minute. I poured two glasses of milk, one for Sierra and one for me, and placed the cookies on a plate. Then I joined Sierra, who was now sitting on the couch. We enjoyed the cookies and milk while watching The Suite Life of Zack & Cody.

  When it was a little after eight, I told Sierra it was time to go to bed.

  Once I had Sierra hidden under her Barbie covers and her damn near dozen pillows, she turned to me and said, “Mommy, I wanna tell you something but don’t want to make you sad.”

  “What?”

  “I miss Jeremiah, Mommy, all the time.”

  I gave her a smile. The best smile I could muster. I tried not to look sad. “I miss Jeremiah, too, Sierra. In fact, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him.”

  “Do you think he misses us?”

  I ran my finger along her right cheek. “I know he does.” I turned my back quickly so she didn’t see my tears. I brushed them off of my face, then turned back to her. “We just have to appreciate the time God gave us with him and know that Jeremiah is in a better place.”

  “In heaven, I know.”

  “Yes, that’s where he is.”

  I rose, but she said, “Mommy?”

  “What, baby?”

  “I miss James, too, but I didn’t want to say that, ’cause that probably wouldn’t make you sad. It probably would make you mad.”

  That was when I laughed. Yes, thoughts of James would make me angry, because he did us dirty. It was not something I wanted to make a habit of doing, telling my daughter that someone she had grown attached to was not coming back. I mean, she kept a brave face when I told her, but I knew deep down it hurt. And before he left, he vented a lot of his anger and snapped at me in front of Sierra. I thought we were both taking big steps by moving past James. I was glad we could joke about it. Part of me still pondered over his random text, which I never responded to.

  “Go to bed, baby.”

  She pointed at the Strawberry Shortcake clock on the wall across from her bed. “But I still have ten minutes. Can I watch TV until eight thirty?”

  “Girl, go ahead, but as soon as the big hand hits that six, you better get your little butt up and turn it off.”

  “Okay!”

  I closed the door behind me, went into the living room.

  I sat on the couch, thinking about little Jeremiah. A little sadness swept over me. I missed the hell out of my son. This made me forget what I was about to do, which was call Bryce. I told myself silently to get myself together and hummed the song I was humming earlier to break the mood I was now in. But I couldn’t, so I decided against calling Bryce. Instead, I looked through my photo album at the pictures of Jeremiah, James, Sierra, and me. I couldn’t help but shed fresh tears. I still couldn’t understand why Jeremiah was taken away from me. I sat the photo album aside and closed my eyes as more warm tears slipped down my cheeks.

  Just then my cordless phone rang. It was a blocked number. Curious, I answered. “Hello?” I said. I knew I sounded depressed.

  “Hey. It’s Andre.”

  Shit. I wished I hadn’t answered. It wasn’t that I didn’t like Andre. I just liked Bryce more. Our vibe was better, and we had better conversations. It was like that sometimes. Calling me from a blocked number because I wouldn’t answer when he called from his regular number made Andre look desperate. It made him look like he was jocking me.

  “I called you a couple times today and even texted you,” he said.

  “I’m sorry. I was so busy today.”

  “Really? What did you do?”

  I huffed out a deep breath into the phone. “Went to work, school, picked up my daughter from school, cooked dinner.”

  “Yeah? What did you make?”

  I rolled my eyes. He was not going to let me get off this phone. “Chicken fingers,” I told him, leaving everything else out.

  “Oh, that sounds good. I went out to eat at P.F. Chang’s.”

  “Really?” I said, not interested. I looked at t
he clock on the wall. It was eight thirty-five.

  Sierra still had the TV on, on full blast. Just as I was about to tell her to turn it off, I heard a bang. It sounded like wood cracking. I saw that somebody had kicked my living room door in!

  I jumped to my feet and screamed as a man rushed up in my house, and I screamed even louder when I realized that the man was Bryce.

  “Bryce, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I backed up fearfully.

  He rushed up to me and was so close, I had to back up more, until I felt the bottom rim of the couch against my ankles. I could hear Andre yelling my name on the phone.

  Bryce snatched the phone out of my hand before I could say anything more to him. I closed my eyes briefly as he hung up and tossed the phone.

  “Real talk. You got something to tell me?”

  “What are you talking about?” I screamed. Looking at my exploded door, I hoped Sierra would stay in her room. I eased over so he wasn’t so in my face. And as soon as I had a foot of separation between us, my instincts told me to run.

  He stepped to me swiftly, as if sensing my impending flight, and before I could move again, he hauled off and slapped me upside my mouth. His ring tore through my skin. I fell to the floor and screamed.

  “Bitch, I heard you was a man!”

  “What?” I held my bleeding mouth.

  He snatched me by my hair so I was now standing. I struggled against him. “Please don’t hurt me,” I begged.

  “Bitch, I’m gonna kill you if what I heard is true.”

  “I’m not a man.”

  I knew there was no chance that I’d be able to fight this six-foot-four man, and I couldn’t get to the phone, because he wouldn’t let go of my neck. I tried to stay as still as possible, out of fear that any resistance on my part would cause him to hurt me. I prayed, Please, God, don’t let Sierra come in here and see this. And I even prayed that Andre would come help me.

  I almost peed on myself when another dude came through the door. What are they going to do to me? I thought. I feared that they would rape me or even kill me.

  This dude peered at me, looked me up and down, all over my face and body, as if he was trying to figure out something.

  Bryce was sweating and his eyes were searing into mine when he whispered, “Well, are you gonna come clean, bitch, or what?” Damn! This was not the man I had become acquainted with over the past two months. He was like a completely different person.

  “I’m not a man.”

  He punched me in my stomach like I was a man. I moaned inwardly and slumped over a bit. The punch he gave me caused me to have a hard as hell time breathing. His hands went back to my neck. And he started choking me again.

  I sobbed silently. I should have never invited him to my home. I called out to God again. Please get me out of this.

  His friend continued to look at me up and down.

  “Well, are you going to show me this shit ain’t true or what, Allure? ’Cause I’m really starting to feel like it’s true each fucking second that goes by.”

  “I have a daughter!”

  “That don’t mean shit. You probably lied about that shit.”

  His hold tightened.

  Why would he think some shit like this? That I was a man? It was all too crazy to digest. But the hateful look on his face told me that he really felt it was true.

  “Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time.”

  “I swear—”

  “Man, fuck this shit.”

  He punched me again, hit my nose. I felt blood gush out of it. I hit the floor again. I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

  “Get her legs, Ace!”

  I lay helpless as his friend grabbed my legs and Bryce straddled me and ripped my shirt to shreds and pulled my bra off of my titties. For a moment Bryce looked like he was convinced, and a look of relief and guilt washed over his face, but his friend said, “That don’t mean shit. Them hormones make they titties big. Check to see if she got a pussy, man.”

  Bryce had that crazy look in his eyes again. He held my arms in a death lock, so tight I thought some bones were gonna break. Then his friend pulled off my sweats and my panties.

  “Police! Get your fucking hands up! Get your fucking hands up!”

  It was Andre, with his gun drawn. Two more cops raced into the house.

  Andre said, “Place your hands on your head. Lace your fingers. Get on your knees!”

  I pulled my pants and bra back on and turned over on my stomach and sobbed uncontrollably.

  I heard the cuffs being snapped on their wrists and their footsteps as they left my house. But I wouldn’t look. I wrapped the shreds of my shirt around me, and I stayed rooted in the spot I was in.

  Soon a blanket was thrown over me. I looked up and made eye contact with Andre.

  Chapter 22

  Thank God that I had answered when Andre called and that he’d come to my rescue.

  Talk about a crazy-ass night. I was attacked by a man I was a day away from giving my pussy to. He had beat my ass and could have possibly killed me. Who would have thought he would be the type of man who could do some shit like that? But then I realized that two months was not enough time to know what type of man Bryce was. And I still had not been able to figure out where he got the crazy notion that I was a man. It was the craziest shit I had ever heard. I knew that I would drive myself crazy trying to figure it out. So I left it alone and thanked God that Sierra didn’t see any of that. Part of the reason was that I let her keep the TV on in her room, which offset the noise in the living room.

  That night I called my sister and my mom. They both rushed over. My mother went to the hospital with me, and my sister waited at home with Sierra.

  Andre came to my hospital bed and took a statement from me. It felt awkward to tell him that I was seeing Bryce. But he kept all judgments off of his face and jotted everything down. He had on regular clothes. I assumed that was because he had been at home and had just rushed out to save me.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay, Allure?” It was Andre. Again I thought, What a relief that he came.

  I nodded. “I think so.” I grimaced because it was painful to talk. “Andre?”

  He turned back around and faced me.

  I took a deep breath. “Are you?”

  He slipped a hand under my chin. “Mad?”

  I nodded again and tried to turn away. I knew I looked ugly as hell. He held my chin firmly.

  “No. Me and you didn’t have a commitment. So as much as I would like to be angry, I don’t have a right to. But I have to admit, I am a little jealous.”

  I stared into his light brown eyes and offered the best smile I could from the hospital bed. Old boy had fractured my nose, busted my lip, and my right eye was swollen shut. And I had to get stitches near my mouth, where his ring cut me.

  “The nerve of him, treating a woman like you that way.”

  I touched my swollen lip, and my eyes teared up again.

  “Don’t worry about that. It will heal in no time.” He sighed. “Well, I need to go and file this report. I’m going to also file for an emergency restraining order.”

  “Right.”

  “I will be calling you soon, most definitely.”

  “Thank you, Andre.”

  “Take care, Allure.”

  He gave one last wave before walking out of the room.

  After my mother made it in to see me and asked her twenty-one questions about what happened to me and told me that I should have taken her advice and remained alone, I dozed off from the sedatives without answering a single one.

  My stay at the hospital was three days long. I went home, but I didn’t feel comfortable there anymore. I felt so violated. And for the first week, until I was able to adjust, either Kendra, my sister, or Creole spent the night. During this time I did a lot of talking on the phone to Andre.

  It took about two weeks for the bruises to clear up. One scar remained, though. It would be a constant reminder of that n
ight. Bryce ended up getting a year in prison for the assault, and the judge placed restraining order on him. He was not permitted to call me or come within one hundred feet of me. It was so crazy. I really thought he was a nice guy, but I didn’t know him at all.

  While I was healing, Andre and I got closer. One night in particular we had been on the phone for so damn long that my ear was packed with sweat. We had been talking for three hours straight.

  “Are you bored yet?” I asked him. I was curled up on my couch, while Sierra was watching TV.

  “I don’t get bored talking to you, Allure.”

  “You know what? I don’t either. You’re a very interesting person, Andre.” I wished I had given him a chance and had not got so caught up in Bryce. For me, Andre was as safe as they came. He was a police officer, for God’s sake. Who could be more trustworthy?

  When I heard a beep, I clicked over so I could hear my other line. “Hello?”

  “Allure, don’t hang up. This is Bryce.”

  My heart started pounding. How was he able to call me from prison? I thought. And why did he want to?

  Before I could say anything, he said, “Listen, baby. I had my sister call you and place us on three-way. Just give me thirty seconds. I’m so sorry for what I did to you. And I’m paying for it with a year in prison. I deserve it for putting my hands on you. But it seems I had been given some misinformation. I have a brother. His name is Cedric. He works for the gas company as a construction worker. Anyway, the day we were texting each other back and forth, before I popped up at your crib, we were having a casual conversation, and I told him that I was seeing this young tenda named Allure. Well, he said that his boy Lavante used to fuck with someone named Allure and that you were bad news.”

  I gasped when he said Lavante’s name.

  “So naturally I was curious as to what it was that made you bad news. Because, like I said, I really liked you. And I wanted to make sure I wasn’t wasting my time, in case you were a rat, a gold digger, and if that being the case I needed to keep it moving”