by Tracy Brown
On an afternoon in mid-August, Jada scoured the shelves in Victoria’s Secret and grabbed as many? and C cups as she could. She’d already gotten all the girls’ sizes around the way, and figured she could get rid of all of them for twenty dollars a pop at least. She was busily stuffing her bags. Yet she was so on point that she noticed the security guard watching her discreetly. She knew it was useless to put everything back. By the time she noticed the guard casually glancing at her, she realized that he had probably seen her stash half the store in her bag. She had a bag full of merchandise she’d stolen from other stores, but she wasn’t going to jail. In a flash, Jada ran like Flo-Jo, without a warning. By the time they realized that she had suddenly taken flight, they couldn’t catch up to her. She ran faster than she ever had in her life. Her heart raced as she ran down the escalator, bumping other shoppers and shoving people out of her way. She ran straight through the doors and through the parking lot. Mall security canvassed the area and radioed Jada’s description across the airwaves. But Jada took off like a runaway slave. And a slave she was, indeed. To the very drug she thought she had control of.
After that she was scared to steal. Jada didn’t do it for a long time after that day. But she still had a jones for the crack, so she needed money. One afternoon, she went to Mr. Charlie and asked him for a favor.
“Can I borrow twenty dollars?” she asked, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She was thirsting to get high, and it was obvious.
Charlie gave it to her, no questions asked. “You don’t have to pay me back, either.” He put the money in her palm and held it for a couple extra moments. “You’re like a daughter to me.”
“Thanks, Mr. Charlie,” Jada said, smiling innocently. She went right away and copped upstairs. After she got her drugs she scurried out into the hallway; her next stop would be Shante’s apartment. But as she was coming out of Lucas’s apartment, she ran smack into Mr. Charlie.
“Oh. Hi,” Jada stammered. She didn’t know what he was doing on that floor, since he lived two floors down. But she was stunned and embarrassed that he had seen her coming out of there. Everybody in the hood knew that that was the drug spot. So Jada knew she was busted.
But to her surprise, he said, “I figured you’d be up here. Don’t be out here like one of these fiends, Jada. Don’t be smoking in the staircase and shit. Come downstairs and smoke at my place, where it’s safe.”
To say that Jada was shocked was an understatement. Her heart beat rapidly, and she was momentarily at a loss for words. So she silently followed him back to his apartment, and stood awkwardly in the living room once inside. Charlie shut the door and locked it, and he gestured toward his sofa. Jada sat down, and cleared her throat.
“I’m not about to smoke weed,” she began.
Charlie nodded. “I know what you’re smoking. Go ‘head. I won’t judge you.” Charlie went into the kitchen, leaving Jada alone. She sat there on his sofa, and smoked her woolah. Charlie let her have her space, and she sat and got high. When she was done, she felt slightly awkward.
“Umm,” Jada played with her hair, and barely met Charlie’s gaze. “I don’t do this all the time, so I don’t have a problem. Thank you for not saying nothing to my mother. If it gets out of hand, I’ll stop—”
“Listen,” Charlie interrupted. “Everybody has their vices. Who am I to judge you for yours? But since I don’t wanna see your mother hurt, I’m trying to keep you from getting in trouble. You can’t be out there getting high off that shit in the stairways. Shante’s house is hot. Lucas’s dumb ass is up there every day, and the cops been looking at him for a while now. All your mother needs is to hear that you got arrested in a drug spot. If you wanna get high, you come here. I’d rather you do it where you’re safe.”
Jada nodded, grateful for his understanding. After that it was her routine. Jada was there every day, and Charlie let her handle her business. She would go home after school, and do what she had to do around the house in order to keep Edna quiet. Then she would go outside and cop, then head to Mr. Charlie’s apartment and smoke her woolahs. Soon the woolahs turned into straight crack pipes.
He never smoked with her, just watched her get high and go through her changes. Jada would bug out, talk to herself, sing, whatever the crack told her to do. Then she would come down and compose herself enough to go home.
Charlie was still seeing Jada’s mother throughout this period of time. He would come by every now and then, like usual. But he never let on that he knew her daughter was developing a very powerful addiction. And Edna never knew the secret between Charlie and Jada. And, as twisted as it was, Jada was grateful to Mr. Charlie for that. He kept her secrets.
5
SUGAR DADDY
1992
Charlie Harmon sat in his armchair, Al Green smoothly crooning “Let’s Stay Together” in the background, and he stared at seventeen-year-old Jada hungrily. He’d watched her get high for the thousandth time, and he knew she was twisted. He could tell by her restlessness, her silly face, her drowsy half smiles. He watched her tripping, waiting for the right time. All of a sudden she started rubbing her arms rapidly, as if she was trying to warm herself.
“What’s the matter, Jada? You cold?” he asked. “Let me help you out, sweetheart.”
She was twitching and laughing to herself. Then she started looking to either side of herself, picking at her shirt unnecessarily. But she was calm enough, in Charlie’s opinion. He inched closer to her, and sat beside her on the couch. “Let me warm you up.” Jada didn’t protest when he touched her.
She rocked back and forth, twisting a long strand of hair and staring blankly at Charlie. She wasn’t seeing him, though. Jada was some place far off in her mind. She looked around, trying to see the cloud on which the room appeared to be floating. She felt herself drifting, felt the whole world spinning, and she smiled. Her eyelids squinted, Jada hazily watched his hands come closer.
Charlie pulled her sweater up so slowly that Jada almost didn’t notice. She felt it all in slow motion and felt the air on her body as he sat back and looked at her black lace bra. Charlie unleashed her breasts and he stroked them. He seemed to know just how to make a woman melt, because Jada had never been caressed like that before. She smiled wider at the sensation, at the man stroking her perfectly. By her smile, he was encouraged. It seemed like every nerve in her body felt every sensation in the atmosphere at the same time. She felt a breeze across her skin, and her hairs stood on end. She felt his hands on her body, and was convinced that nothing felt better than what Charlie was doing to her at that moment.
“Ain’t this alright, Jada?” His breath felt warm against her face, and sent a tingle up her spine. She nodded, as he watched her facial expressions change. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s alright.”
Jada nodded, foggily. Then she was laughing, and moving around to a rhythm only she could feel. She nodded so slowly, her head rolling to the rhythm of Charlie’s fingertips. He licked and sucked her breasts, with his hands up her tiny skirt. Jada exhaled loudly.
Jada was dancing in her head, still twitchy and jumpy. But what his fingers were doing to her pussy was spellbinding. “Yeah.” He said it again. “It’s alright.” As crazy as it was, Jada fantasized that she was in control. She still would not admit that crack had her by the throat. Instead she watched him, smiling and thinking, Look at this old muthafucka licking me. He knows he wants me and not my mother. Charlie worked magic with his tongue. He toyed with her young pearl and didn’t stop until she bubbled over with pleasure. Jada was spent, having just loudly achieved the first orgasm of her life at the age of seventeen.
Charlie sat back and calmly stared at Jada’s young body. She sat in the same position he had left her, her leg propped up on the arm of the couch to reveal all of her goodies. Her bra was pulled up over her breasts; her sweater was bunched up as well. She sat there, high as ever, naked before Mr. Charlie.
He stood up and pulled down his pants. He looked at her, half n
aked and high, and smiled as he put himself inside the tightness of her young walls.
“Yeah,” he moaned in her ear, over and over.
Jada pulled back from him, as if uncomfortable. The thought of resisting him registered somewhere in the corner of her mind. But Charlie held her gently, and said, “It’s alright.” He held her thighs open, and she was still jumpy, but moaning. He stroked her slowly, enjoying each and every thrust. Jada didn’t protest, and she smiled, enjoying her high and the ride Mr. Charlie was taking her on. He knew he had her now. He stroked her until his old penis couldn’t hold out any longer. Charlie had sense enough to pull himself out and spill his seed on her stomach. Afterward, he sat beside her and caught his breath, his dick lying limp across his thigh.
Jada sat zoned out for a while, somewhere far away in her mind again. He watched her come down slowly, unaware, it seemed, of how perfect her body was. He gave her space until she was composed enough to go home. She never mentioned what had occurred. She simply washed herself off and fixed her clothes, and Charlie sent her on her way, knowing that she had what it took. She was young, and pretty, and had some tight pussy and a crack habit. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he turned her out.
6
STORMY WEATHER
Jada finally knew she was a crackhead, even though she hated the thought of it. She had always been the street-smart one—the tougher one of Edna’s daughters. Now she was someone weak enough to submit to an addiction. She was disappointed in herself and felt guilty for all that she had done. But that guilt didn’t outweigh the hunger she had to get high. Charlie was having sex with her on a regular basis, giving her drugs each time she came to see him. He dominated her, and seemed to enjoy making her feel good. She no longer had to go upstairs to cop. She got all that she needed right from Mr. Charlie’s wrinkled hands. She was his sex toy, doing whatever he wanted. Part of her felt comforted by her relationship with him. He was a father figure, and she was even turned on by the thought of calling him Mr. Charlie while she fucked him.
In between her highs, Charlie taught her things. Mostly about sex. He made her feel beautiful—too beautiful for the young gangsta wannabes she hung around. She began to recognize game, because Charlie taught her what he knew. Those conversations felt privileged to Jada. Like Charlie was letting her in on the ground floor of Hustlers, Inc. She learned how to get what she wanted from men of any age. Mr. Charlie taught her what to say, how to dress. He was schooling her, telling her how to hold her liquor when she drank, how to roll a dutch properly. He told her that he was going to make her the baddest bitch ever. He would show her how to be every man’s fantasy. Soon nothing a nigga said sounded as good as it used to. Jada recognized their game, and she shot them down left and right. Only Charlie was getting it at that point. He seemed genuinely interested in her. She thought he was the only one who understood her.
Charlie introduced her to the art of oral sex, to all kinds of different positions. He showed her how to work her hips when she rode him. Jada felt like he was teaching her how to be his woman, grooming her to keep him happy. She would have done just about anything to keep old Charlie happy, because old Charlie was keeping her high. And she liked it like that.
He was also showing Jada how to survive in the mean streets. He taught her how to navigate all kinds of situations, and how to protect herself. He gave her a knife and showed her how to stash a razor without being detected. He taught her how to get what she wanted out of the men she came in contact with. Jada felt like a grown-up in his presence, and Mr. Charlie fed into that. When he spoke, she listened, and he knew she was like putty in his hands.
With her eighteenth birthday drawing near, Mr. Charlie was carrying on a physical relationship with both Jada and her mother. In her mind, usually in the midst of her drug-induced fog, Jada felt that she was getting back at her mother somehow. She convinced herself that what she was doing with Mr. Charlie was payback for her mother letting her and Ava down. It was revenge for the fact that Edna had failed her daughters when they needed her most. It was her way of rationalizing what she knew was wrong, so that she could continue to be selfish.
He continued to visit her mother periodically, bringing her money, giving her attention. But Edna was blind to the winks Charlie would toss Jada’s way, to the way he would touch Jada’s ass when her mother’s back was turned. Their secret was theirs alone. Until the day it came crashing down.
It was a Sunday afternoon, and Edna hadn’t returned from Sunday church service yet. After two nights of smoking crack, Jada had just woken up, at four o’clock in the afternoon. She stumbled out of bed, and almost immediately felt the urge to get high. She started scratching at her skin, itchy after two days in the same clothes. She needed a shower, and had hardly eaten a thing. But all she could think about was how soon she could get high again.
The doorbell rang, and Jada stumbled to answer it. When she opened the door and found Charlie standing there, she gladly ushered him inside. She had planned to take a shower, get dressed, and go looking for him. But now she wouldn’t have to go looking after all.
“Hey,” she said, smiling. Her mouth felt cottony and dry, but she licked her lips, happily. “Mommy ain’t back from church yet.”
Charlie gave Jada a once-over and shook his head. “You look a mess,” he said. “Go clean yourself up before your mother sees you like this.” Charlie knew that Edna was beginning to grow suspicious of Jada’s behavior and her appearance lately. He’d done his best to reassure her that Jada was too smart to do anything as stupid as use drugs. But with Jada walking around looking like the neighborhood crackhead, he was having a harder time convincing Edna that her daughter wasn’t slipping.
“I will,” Jada said. “But let me get you off real fast before I go wash up. Then you can give me a couple of dollars—”
“I’m not gonna fuck you in your mama’s house, Jada. You must be crazy,” Charlie protested, before sitting down on the sofa. He shook his head at her.
“I didn’t say you had to fuck me, Mr. Charlie.” Jada smiled at him again, and without further discussion, she dropped to her knees and frantically unzipped his pants.
“Stop playing, Jada,” Charlie protested, halfheartedly. “Wait till later on.”
But Jada ignored him. She knew that her head game was the best, and estimated that within five minutes tops she could make him bust a nut. Then she could go and get high while he hung around and waited for Edna to come back. Deaf to his protests, she engulfed him with her mouth, earning what she needed. His penis was limp, and she sucked all of it, until it began to grow inch by inch in her mouth. Still offering a weak protest, Charlie reminded Jada that her mother would be on her way home. But Jada was persistent, and she tightened the suction in her cheeks, sucking all of him into her mouth and establishing an intoxicating rhythm. His head fell back against the sofa, as he enjoyed the sensation of Jada’s warm mouth on his old penis. He closed his eyes, and held on to her head, pushing Jada down on his dick as far as she would let him. He felt the cum throbbing within his dick as it made its way to the head. Jada felt it too, and sucked harder as she felt Charlie about to cum. But Edna’s scream brought him out of his trance.
Jada pulled herself to her feet and faced her mother, wiping the spit from her chin, as Charlie came involuntarily. Edna stood crying in shock only feet from where Jada stood. The apartment door was still open behind her, and both Jada and Mr. Charlie wondered how they hadn’t heard her come in. Charlie sat with cum all over him, dumbfounded. He grabbed a nearby pillow and wiped himself off, quickly. Then he adjusted his pants and stood between the two women, wondering what the hell would happen now.
Edna charged at Jada, tearing, scratching, clawing, and ripping at her daughter’s face. “You dirty bitch!”
Jada was screaming, trying to block her mother’s wild blows. Jada had never seen her mother act so aggressively, and she had never expected her mother to hit her. Gone was the woman who always let the men in her life batter he
r both physically and emotionally.
“Edna, come on, now. Get off the girl, you’re hurting her.” Charlie tried to coax Edna to stop, but even he was hesitant to step into her pathway for fear of being hurt. He cautiously pulled Edna off of her daughter.
Jada tucked herself into a ball, weeping and trying to shield her face from further damage. “You and your sister!” Edna was yelling. “You and your fucking sister!” Finally, Charlie pulled Edna off of Jada with enough force to send her tumbling backward.
Edna sat panting, with her back against the wall. “You get the hell out of my house!” She looked at Charlie, and was tempted to kill him. How could he mess with her daughter? She was sobbing, seeming as if she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Mr. Charlie tried to intervene. “Edna, hold on a minute—”
“Get out, Charlie. You’re dead wrong! Oh, my God! Both of you get out! Get out!”
Jada felt shame and regret, but couldn’t bring herself to offer a pitiful apology. There was no apology that could excuse what her mother had just witnessed. Without protesting, she went to her room and gathered some of her belongings. Her face felt hot from all the scratches and slaps. When she finally looked at herself in her bedroom mirror, she saw the crisscross scratches and bruises from her mother’s attack. She was bleeding in some places, and her own tears stung, as she gathered her things. She could hear Mr. Charlie trying, unsuccessfully, to calm Edna down. By the time Jada emerged from her room, Mr. Charlie was standing by the door looking defeated. Edna looked at her daughter and then at Charlie—another man who had made her feel like she was special, and then broken her heart—as tears fell from her eyes. She walked quickly into the bathroom, slammed the door, and slid to the floor, her sobs echoing off the walls. Jada left with Mr. Charlie that day and moved into his apartment; it was the beginning of a whole new life for her.