Brooklyn Brothel

by C. Stecko

  “What a fuckin’ man!” I said to myself. He can’t even hold the door for me.

  “Come the fuck on Chantel!” he shouted from the bottom of the staircase.

  That was it. I knew I wasn’t gonna say shit to him all the way to the courthouse.

  When we arrived at the court buildin’, mediation was first, then our opportunity to see the judge. Mr. Sulferri was standin’ outside of courtroom G lookin’ like he was ready to kick some legal ass. When he set eyes on Bo, he frowned.

  “Ahhhhh, Chantel, we need to talk,” he informed me.

  “Sure.”

  “Come over here please.” He nodded for me to follow him off to the side for privacy. However, the only problem was, Bo followed, too.

  Mr. Sulferri wasn’t the same professional man who stood in his office givin’ handshakes, eye-contact, and sound advice. He pretty much ignored Bo and didn’t even offer him a greetin’ or extend his hand. That troubled me. I knew what he was gonna say, before he said it. I turned to Bo and begged for him to leave.

  “Bo, can you just wait out front of the courthouse, or go grab somethin’ to eat while I take care of this?” I begged.

  His face frowned and he turned his voice up to volume ten. “You mean to tell me I don brought yo ass all da way down here, and you don’t want me to go wit you? See, you can’t be nice to a hoe.”

  I was completely embarrassed. When I looked ova at Mr. Sulferri, his mouth was wide open. “Bo, don’t start,” I pleaded.

  “Bitch, I could be out in da street collectin’ money instead of in here wit’ yo ass. You know what…fuck you and yo mufuckin’ cracker-asssssss lawyer.”Bo twisted his upper lip into a cold grimace and stared Mr. Sulferri down.

  Mr. Sulferri simply adjusted his tie. “Come on, Chantel. Let’s go inside,” he instructed.

  Bo took off in the otha direction not even givin’ me a chance to explain. I kept my eye on his backside until Mr. Sulferri pulled me by the arm. “Chantel, it’s time to get down to business,” he uttered. “I’m sure your friend will calm down.”

  He was right. I didn’t have time to argue with Bo’s crazy ass all day. gettin’ my son back was way more important. I needed to be focused.

  When we got into the mediation room, the first thing I saw was Dre cuddled up with a bitch. The blonde, frail, female mediator asked my lawyer some basic information, then ordered me to take a seat. I looked around the small, cramped room and listened to my lawyer shoot back sharp, crisp answers. Dre and a tall, fair-skinned woman with scraggly hair sat on the opposite side of the table where we were supposed to sit.

  It has to be that Lolita chick, I thought to myself.

  She sat with her legs crossed, poppin’ her gum loudly, and rubbin’ the back of Dre’s neck. It was apparent that Dre was representin’ himself, ’cause when my lawyer questioned the mediator about his lawyer, Lolita snapped.

  “Let’s get started,” she announced. “It’s just us and y’all.”

  “Yeah, let’s get started,” I shot back then looked at that nappy head bitch. “Word has it, you been beatin’ my son.”

  Lolita stared back at me with an evil glare. “You talkin’ to me?” she asked pointin’ to herself.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Well you got me fucked up ’cause I ain’t been hittin’ yo son.”

  “You have so. My son don’t lie!”

  The mediator cleared her throat then looked to my lawyer for help. After receivin’ a light tap on my leg, I went into my purse and popped a piece of Big Red into my mouth. Mr. Sulferri looked at me like he wanted me to throw the gum away, but didn’t say anything. He was serious about how he handled business.

  Even though, I didn’t throw the gum away, I still had sense enough not to pop and blow bubbles like Lolita. Once the mediator started talkin’ again, I saw Lolita whisperin’ in Dre’s ear. He seemed irritated by what she was sayin’. I tried to make out any sounds I could. The mediator even seemed perplexed.

  Then out of nowhere, Lolita got loud. “Look, Dre you need to handle dis shit ’cause I don’t won’t no extra damn kids. We got enough!”

  Dre shook his head in disgust before decidin’ to speak up. “Look, me and Lolita getting married,” he said like it had to be pushed outta him. “Carlton can live with you.”

  My eyes lit up. Even though it bothered me that Lolita was talkin’ about Carlton like he was a fuckin’ burden, I dealt with it, especially since I needed him to get away from her as soon as possible. I stood frozen at the table, while Mr. Sulferri quickly packed all his papers into his briefcase.

  “That’s it,” he said to me. “We’ll tell the judge. It’s that easy,” he continued. “His father is giving his consent.”

  I remained frozen like I’d just missed bein’ hit by a freight car. Where were we going to live? Certainly not with Bo. How was I gonna take care of my boy? Certainly not as a prostitute. I needed a job and fast.

  Before I knew it, we were in the court room, standin’ before Judge Macon. He was a nice, older white man who seemed to favor women. Besides, he knew Mr. Sulferri well. From what he told me, they played golf together. I listened as my lawyer explained that Dre had verbally agreed to let me have full custody of Carlton, and that he could live with me.

  “Of course we can work out plenty of visitation,” Mr. Sulferri, added. He had fun with his next comment. “That’s when he’s not with the three children of his soon to be wife, all fathered by different men.”

  The judge crinkled his eyebrows and dug back into my paperwork that he’d been shufflin’ through his hands since the court clerk announced our case.

  “Well, it seems to me we have a few problems.” As he cleared his throat, I swallowed the lump in my own throat. “I see you started your drug rehabilitation class in prison, Miss Ramsey. But you didn’t finish,” he announced.

  “Yes Sir, I was released early for good behavior, so I didn’t get a chance to finish,” I interjected.

  “Mr. Sulferri, she’s got to finish,” the judge said sharply. “It was mandated with her sentence. Now after that, we’re back on track.”

  First, I looked at my lawyer. My eyes asked the question, what about the fuckin’ buddy-buddy golf games? What about you knowin’ him so well? Do somethin’, my eyes begged. Then I turned my attention to the judge. I glared at him with tears in my eyes. It seemed like there was always somethin’ holdin’ me back.

  “How much longer,” I whispered to my lawyer. “Ask him!” I urged through my clinched teeth.

  When I heard the judge say fourteen days, I figured life wasn’t that bad. I can handle that, I tried convincin’ myself. Besides, as bad as I have the urge to do coke ova the last few weeks, the rehabilitation program is probably what I need anyway, I thought.

  Mr. Sulferri promised Judge Macon that he would have me enrolled in the class, and back in his courtroom to close out the case. The judge gave me sixty days to have everythin’ done. I sucked my teeth when I heard that ridiculous bullshit. I knew in fourteen days flat, I would be finished. I didn’t want or need anymore time.

  “We don’t make the rules,” my lawyer spat to me. “Let’s take what we got.” He looked straight ahead preparin’ to leave the courtroom.

  “Oh…wait…one last thing,” the judge interrupted. “Where are your pay stubs? I don’t see them here.”

  I allowed my gum to come from the roof of my mouth and down into the area where I could chew like crazy. My hands shook beneath the table wonderin’ what Mr. Sulferri would say to defend me.

  “Do you work?” The judge posed the question directly to me. Bluntly, he repeated, “Do you?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “Well, before you enter my courtroom again, make sure you have a job, and some pay stubs to prove it!”

  I started hyperventilatin’ all the way out of the court buildin’. Once outside, Mr. Sulferri sounded off a ‘things to do list’ as soon as we stepped into a discreet area near the curb. I pretended to listen, but coul
dn’t. I was so worried. Pay stubs, a place to live, takin’ drug classes, it all had my mind twisted. Finally, my lawyer removed himself from my space and waltzed off to meet another client.

  When he left, I noticed sweat on top of my forehead. I knew I needed a job, and fast. One option was to get back to Betty’s, quickly. But shit, what kinda pay stubs would I get from her? Two, I could apply for a few real jobs, but with a criminal record, who was gonna hire me. I paced the pavement out front of the courthouse for several more minutes searchin’ for Bo. There was no sign of him anywhere. I had been outside nearly thirty minutes with no sign of him at all.

  I had to figure somethin’ out. Carlton was basically bein’ handed to me on a platter, all I needed was money to take care of him and a job. The otha crazy part of my situation was that Mr. Sulferri assured me he could get me into a drug class by Wednesday. How was I gonna work and take the classes?

  I banged myself in the head, and twirled around like a crazed woman. Suddenly, I dug in my purse for some change to call Bo. Ironically, I came across somethin’ else. Somethin’ that coulda possibly been the answer to my problems. I rushed to one of the pay phones on the first floor of the courthouse and dialed the number from the paper. When the phone rang, I tensed up a bit.

  “Hello, can I speak to Tony,” I said into the phone softly.

  “Ahhh. What can I help you with?” the Italian male soundin’ voice responded.

  “Just Tony, please.”

  “Who is this? He’s in the middle of a meeting.”

  “It’s Chantel…I mean Co-Co,” I corrected.

  “Co-Co. Well hello, baby girl.” The voice sounded happy all of a sudden. “This is Tony. I gotta screen all my fucking calls,” he laughed. “Look sweetheart, I’m really busy though, can you call me later?”

  “Not really, I’m in a bind,” I confessed.

  “Honestly hun, I just can’t talk right now.”

  His voice let me know he needed me to hang up immediately, but he was my only chance. He was connected, so I knew he could make it happen. I took a shot anyhow. “Tony, I just need to have some fake pay stubs drafted to show the judge I have a job. It’s the only way I’m gonna get my son back.”

  “Badda bing, badda bang,” he said into the phone. “I’ll have my accountant handle that. Take down his number and give him all the info. I’ll approve it.” He paused. “You know you owe me, sweetness.”

  “I got’cha Tony. What’s the number?”

  The phone made all kinds of rumblin’ sounds as he searched for the number. “Give me a sec. I gotta grab it. When you coming back to New York? Big Tony needs you.”

  “Oh, so it’s Big Tony,” I said with a huge smile.

  “Yeah. Look, here’s the number. Be sure to call me later. I need confirmation that you’re coming back soon.” He ended.

  Within seconds, I had the phone number to his accountant and a new smile on my face. I hung up and called Bo’s cell. He answered on the first ring. “May I help you, bitch?”

  “Yes Booooooo,” I dragged his name out. “Where are you? I’m out front.”

  “Biiiiiattttttttch, I been ghost. Catch the damn bus!”

  Click.

  Chapter 11

  I sat on a milk crate snifflin’ in the corner of our bedroom tryna bide my time. I slid on my striped sexy stockings, gazin’ at the back of Bo’s head. The sight of him made me sick to my stomach so I damn sho didn’t wanna sit on the bed near his lying ass. He knew I was in the damn corner cryin’ my ass off, but he didn’t give a shit. He just continued to sit, with his back turned to me, clippin’ his chipped toe-nails.

  For the third time, I sucked up my mucus tryna be strong. I couldn’t believe fifteen days had passed since my court date. I was so proud of myself for stayin’ focused and completin’ my drug program. There was only one problem-being proud obviously meant nothin’ to the judge. I remember yesterday when I received the certificate, I made a copy of it, rushed it ova to my lawyer’s office, and waited for him to fax it to the judge. So of course when I got hit with the news that I still had to wait ’til my next court date, which was still forty-five days away, I flipped. I cried like I’d lost my only child, and had been an emotional wreck since then. The news devastated me.

  I knew however, the plan still had to be executed. So when I left my lawyer’s office, I called Tony back makin’ sure his accountant had mailed off my pay stubs to my lawyer. Although I’d only spoken to Tony twice since leavin’ Brooklyn, I was startin’ to get a feel for what he was really about. He was a greedy man, always discussin’ another way to make a dollar, and even though he promised to take care of his accountant for doing me the favor, he kept repeatin’ the fact that I owed him.

  At first I was able to laugh it off, then the last time we spoke, I sorta got upset. I told Tony he wasn’t actin’ like he wanted to help me. He disarmed any bitter feelin’s I had for him when he explained that he really liked me and had big plans for me. I surely needed to hear the good news that he was feelin’ me, ’cause in reality, things were gettin’ hectic for me at Bo’s fort. About an hour ago, Bo announced that he was gonna put me on the streets. He said we were broke, and not makin’ any money.

  “Can you hurry the fuck up?” Bo all of a sudden blurted out.

  He turned around, got up off the bed, and walked ova to grab his socks off the dresser. He was fully dressed, so his evil expression was just a warnin’ that I needed to be dressed by now, too.

  I sniffled again, then stood up to slide the short, plastic feelin’ skirt up to my waist. It was red and shiny, I guess imitation leather. Somethin’ Bo had bought me for my first day out on the job, I guess. But it was a treat compared to the tight-ass rayon v-neck that had my tits held hostage. Only the nipple remained tucked safely inside the bra while my remainin’ breasts protruded far enough for the world to see.

  “If you had gotten a mufuckin’ job, you wouldn’t have’ta do dis. You seeeeeee, bitches like you don’t wanta listen.”

  “I do, Bo. I just don’t want no otha man runnin’ up in me!”

  “See, you don’t know shit. Yo don’t gotta give up the pussy,” he said walkin’ ova to me and slidin’ his hand between my legs harshly. “Some of the best hoes in the biz got the gift of gab. That’s all ya neeeeeeed! If ya got the gift of gab, a bitch can talk a man outta anythang without givin’ up shit.” His eyes widened. “Be a trooper bitch!” he screamed in a high pitch tone.

  I rushed to finish gettin’ ready ’cause I could see that Bo had gotten extra antsy. He’d been snortin coke all afternoon, so I knew he wanted to get crazy. Shit, it took everythin’ in me not to ask him for some coke, and get crazy right along with his ass. The white powder always seemed to take my problems away, made me feel free, which is exactly the way I wanted to feel at the moment. Immediately, I stopped sniffilin’, yet continued to cry inside. It seemed like there was no way out.

  Fully dressed, I sashayed ova next to Bo, then rested my hand on his shoulder. “Bo can you go get me a bottle of Patron, honey?” I jumped back ’cause he looked like he wanted to slap me. “I know you’re stressed babe, but I am, too. It’ll help me relax, and I’m sure I’ll make more money tonight.”

  Luckily, he seemed to be thinkin’ about it. I even threw in an extra lie and said that’s what I drank every night at Betty’s to keep me focused. When I added that it helped me make more money, he started slammin’ shit all around the room. I guess he was searchin’ for the keys, cause when I lifted the key to the Buick off the nightstand, he snatched it from my hand and rushed toward the door.

  “You better have yo make-up on, condoms in yo pocket, and yo pussy ready by the time I get back,” he ranted.

  I gave him a funny salute instead of any words. As soon as he shut the front door, I sighed, then broke down into tears. My plan had worked so far, but I needed to use the phone. I rushed into the livin’ room, opened the front door, and peeped out for any sign of Bo. When I heard the music blarin’ from the parkin
’ lot below, I knew he’d be pullin’ out the lot soon.

  Quickly, I turned the knob to unlock the front door, and crept down the staircase to Ms. Carla’s house. She was an older woman who neva left the house. Her eyes told me she neva approved of me bein’ with Bo, but she had a daughter my age who understood, just from seein’ us, what I was going through.

  Once downstairs, I knocked on Ms. Carla’s door twice. The quickness in my knuckles showed there was a sense of urgency. I had my lie altogether, just waitin’ for her to open the door.

  When the old woman appeared before me, I got stuck for a second. “Ahhhh…”

  “Yes,” she asked, behavin’ like she wanted to slam the door in my face.

  She examined my outfit, shook her head, then crossed her arms. “Can I help you?”

  “Ah…I hate to bother you, but I need to use your phone. My son…”

  The old woman opened the door widely before I had a chance to finish my sentence. “It’s over there,” she said softly.

  Wow, I was shocked that she’d let me inside.

  I grabbed hold of the phone wantin’ to kiss Ms. Carla on the cheek. Her spirit seemed warm, warmer than what I had gotten in the past. When Renee answered the phone, I got all antsy.

  “Renee, pleaseeeeeee, come get me.”

  “For what? I just left from over that way,” she replied.

  I took a long sigh ’cause I knew what that meant. She was gettin’ high. Our neighborhood had the best coke money could buy. Drugs would only make Renee act even worse than she had been. Ova the last few days she’d been talkin’ crazy, talkin’ ’bout how Bo wasn’t all that bad. All I needed was a ride to the bus station.

  “Look Renee, Bo will be gone for just a few minutes, then he’s comin’ back to get me. When he gets here, I need to be gone. Can you just do me this one favor? I’ll pay you good,” I begged. “Pleaseeeeeeeee.”

  “Bet. I’m comin’, but have my money ready.”

  “I will, but hurry. No more than ten minutes.”

  Against Ms. Carla’s will, I ran up on her and kissed her on the cheek. It saddened me that I didn’t have a grandmother, mother, or someone special in my life to offer me guidance, love, and wisdom. In my heart I knew I needed wisdom more than anything to make it through the next few weeks.