Just Make Him Beautiful

by Warren, Mike

  As I sat on my bed, listening to my Patti Labelle CDs and staring at the divas posted on my walls, I realized I hadn’t eaten much of anything within the past couple of weeks, and my stomach was making it known, loud and clear. I went downstairs to the kitchen to check out what was in the icebox, but there really wasn’t anything in there I had a taste for. I went back to my room and threw on one of my torn T-shirts and a pair of sweats, grabbed my keys, and decided to go to the local market and make a fresh salad.

  *

  I parked in the grocery store parking lot. As I was about to get out of my car, I saw Junior once again. This time, he was standing in the middle of the parking lot with several other brothas, talking and laughing, his car stereo system blasting.

  At first, I thought about not getting out and just pulling off, but then I thought, This muthafucka probably don’t even remember who I am. So, I got out of my car and acted as though I didn’t even notice him.

  As I walked by, one of the brothas tried to be funny and, in a high-pitched voice, said, “Heeey, sunshine.”

  I continued walking with my head hung low without saying a word because regardless of whatever I said, they would’ve only ignored it and tried to punk me out anyway. I made my way in the grocery store with a cart and went from aisle to aisle, stalling for time, hoping that by the time I left out, they would be gone.

  After thirty or so minutes, I purchased all the ingredients I needed to make a fabulous chef’s salad. As I gathered my bag and exited the grocery store, I noticed the guys had left, but sitting on the hood of my car was Junior.

  “What’s yo’ name?” he asked as I approached the driver’s side of my car

  “Who wants to know?” I asked, being somewhat sarcastic.

  “I’m Junior,” he replied, getting off the hood of my car and extending his hand to shake mine.

  “I’m Sunshine.” I left his handshake hanging while I put my groceries in the backseat.

  “Well, I normally don’t do this, Sunshine, because I’m definitely a ladies’ man.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “But you look good to me for some reason.”

  “So, what do you want?” I questioned angrily, getting in my car.

  “Dayum, Sunshine! Why you being so mean?” He got into the passenger side.

  “Look, Junior, or whatever your name is, I have some place to be, so I would appreciate if you would get out.” I started up my car.

  “Okay, cool. I understand if you got another nigga, but check this.” He went into his baggy jean pocket and pulled out a wad of money. He then placed five crisp hundred-dollar bills on the dashboard. “Get something nice to wear tonight because we’re going out.”

  “Excuse you?”

  “Give me your number.”

  “For what?”

  “So I can call and pick you up at seven p.m. sharp.”

  “I’m not giving…”

  “I said, give me your number,” he replied in an angry tone.

  I don’t know why, but I blurted out my number, hoping he would at least get out of my car. Fortunately, he placed my number in his cell and left.

  I grabbed the money from my dashboard and just stared at it. Was this Negro serious? Was he seriously expecting me to go buy a five-hundred-dollar outfit, like some hoochie, just to take me out? And his stupid ass don’t even remember who I am.

  Paying his black ass back for killing my brother was gonna be easier than I thought.

  *

  By the time I finished stuffing my face and watching back-to-back episodes of Next Top Model, I finally dozed off to sleep. But as soon as I got into a deep sleep, my ringing cell phone woke me up.

  “Hello,” I said, trying to wake myself up.

  “Hey, Sunshine. You ready?”

  I sat up in the bed. “Who is this?”

  “This is Junior. You ready?”

  “What time is it?”

  “It’s seven p.m., Sunshine. Give me your address so I can pick you up.”

  “Ah, why don’t I just meet you somewhere, because my folks really don’t like people coming to our house.” I didn’t want this murderer to know where I lived.

  “Dayum, Sunshine! But that’s cool. You know where the Radisson Hotel is downtown, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Be there in thirty minutes. Go to the front desk and tell them you are Sunshine. There will be an envelope waiting for you. Bye.”

  “Hello, hello.” I looked at the phone. “No, he didn’t just hang up the dayum phone in my ear. Chile, this muthafucka here…Oooo, no, he didn’t.

  I looked at my phone to check the time and it said 7:11 p.m. I jumped out of bed, took a quick shower, and put some clothes on. I really didn’t care how I looked, but I was curious about what he had planned.

  *

  Honey, I finally made it down to the hotel, parked my car in the hotel garage, and approached the front desk.

  “Ah, yes, my name is Sunshine. I believe you have an envelope for me,” I said to the old gray-haired female clerk.

  She looked at me as though she smelled something funny.

  “Ms. Thang, is there a problem?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Here is your envelope, ma’am…I mean sir.”

  “It’s sir, biotch.” I snatched the envelope and walked into the lobby area to read what was inside.

  Dear Sunshine,

  I’m glad you came. Enclosed is a key to room 4225, I hope you will use it.

  Junior

  P.S. I have a surprise for you

  Well, I have to admit, that was very nice of him to arrange all of this. I mean, really, no one had ever done this kinda thing for me before.

  Junior has a little class, I see, I thought as I caught the elevator to the forty-second floor.

  I thought about calling Robin and telling her what Junior had done, getting us a room at the Radisson, but I realized she would probably talk me out of it, saying shit like, “All he wanna do is fuck you. Why would you let him do that after what he did to your brother?”

  Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But for the past several weeks, I’d been somewhat sad and depressed. And who could blame me? Especially after witnessing what my dad was doing behind my mom’s back, I didn’t know what to do. My dad’s words that night, “I will kill you and your sister,” still haunt me to this day.

  I found Room 4225, placed the card in the slot, and the door opened. I walked in, and the room was fabulous. Junior must have ordered dinner because there were silver serving trays placed on the dining room table with candles lit on both sides. And he had rose petals scattered throughout the room, leading up to this large king-size bed. I was so surprised that Junior had done all this just for me, I found myself liking him just a little bit more. My eighteenth birthday was in a few days, and in my mind, this was a celebration, just for that occasion.

  I walked over to the table and noticed that Junior had poured two flute glasses of champagne. I stood there sipping on it, feeling like the diva I wanted to be and wondering where Junior was.

  I was beginning to feel a little bad because Junior had gone through all this trouble, and I didn’t even bother to dress up for the occasion, even though he gave me five hundred dollars to get a new outfit. I stood in front of large mirror on the left-hand side of the wall to try to fix myself up a little. But to be honest, I didn’t look that bad in my slim fitted jeans, my one–of-a-kind purple T-shirt with rhinestones that Robin had made for me, and a pair of purple sneakers with rhinestones that I had tacked on the front of each shoe. I still had the extensions that Robin had put in my hair, and they were holding up quite well.

  I reached in my handbag for a rubber band to at least pull my braids back into a ponytail. I also pulled out my compact just to add a little foundation to my face because I was looking a little pale.

  “There, that’s better,” I said out loud.

  Junior walked into the room, catching me off guard. “I’m glad you came.”

  “Oh, hey.
”

  “So, what do you think, Sunshine?” he asked, arms stretched out wide, referring to the room.

  “It’s fabulous.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  He pulled the chair out from the table for me to sit, and I sat down at the table.

  “A little.”

  For the next forty-five minutes or so, Junior and I ate and talked about everything under the sun. I found out that today was his twenty-fourth birthday, and he wanted to spend it with me.

  Which really touched me. Be still, my beating heart.

  He also told me that he had been selling and dealing in drugs ever since he was twelve years old. Junior also told me that he had a girlfriend and a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter named Brianna. But, most importantly, he wasn’t gay, but enjoyed having his dick sucked and fucking dudes from time to time.

  I didn’t really say too much to Junior about myself because I know how much guys like talking about themselves. And the less said about me, the better.

  We had finished eating, and Junior invited me to have a seat on the couch with him. Chile, I have to confess, he did look pretty good with his white Calvin Klein sweat suit on, his silver chain with crossbones medallion hanging, and his new white Air Force Ones. He’d obviously been working out because his toned physique was apparent in his all-white attire.

  Junior made himself comfortable on the couch. “So, Sunshine, did you enjoy the food?”

  “Yes, I did,” I replied, sitting next to him.

  “Well, tell me more about you.” He looked me dead in the eye.

  “What do you wanna know?”

  “What’s your real name?” He got up and grabbed the champagne bottle and glasses we’d left on the dining room table.

  “You’ve been calling me Sunshine, so you can continue to call me that,” I cooed, batting my eyes at him.

  “But I wanna know your real name.” He poured us some more champagne.

  “My name is Sunshine, sweetie. That’s all you really need to know, right?”

  He handed me my glass of champagne. “Is that right?”

  The next thing I knew, Junior took the champagne bottle and bashed it up against my head. He hit me so hard, the bottle broke, and I fell off the couch onto the floor. My head was pounding so bad, I knew something in my head must have cracked.

  I tried reaching for the couch to pull myself up, but he grabbed me by my shirt, pulled me up off the floor, and with all his might, punched me dead in my right eye. The pain was so excruciating, I couldn’t even scream.

  All I could hear was Junior yelling, “You seriously didn’t think I knew who your faggot ass was? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You think you were going to get away with that shit? Do you know who the fuck I am?”

  He continued punching me, throwing my body from one side of the room to the other, sending pictures crashing down from the walls, and lamps from end tables. He then grabbed me by my ponytail and swung me so hard on top of the dining room table, it broke in half. I was in so much pain, I thought I was dying.

  I lay there bleeding and crying and begging him to stop, but he didn’t.

  He picked me up off the floor and tore my bloody clothes off and threw me up against the wall so hard where the mirror hung, it cracked. I could feel the glass cutting into my back.

  He then grabbed me by my neck, stared me right in the eye. “You’re that punk-ass Cameron, Ray’s little brother, and I’ma kill you just like I killed him. But, first, let me give you your surprise.”

  He threw me back on the floor, held my head against the plush carpet, and spread my legs apart as he entered me from behind. My insides felt as though they were being ripped apart as I continued crying and wiping the blood trickling down my face.

  He then propped me up on my knees and began fucking me doggy-style. All I could do was pray to God for His mercy because I knew this was it. I could actually feel my body shutting down.

  “Yo, Kurt and Rodney, y’all want to hit some of this ass?”

  Barely conscious, I wasn’t sure who Junior was talking to, but I tried to raise my head up off the floor. I couldn’t make out who the other two guys were coming out of the bathroom in my direction.

  Junior was obviously done with me because he asked his boys, “Who wanna go next?”

  I tried closing my eyes, hoping I would just pass out, but both of my eyes hurt to the point where I eventually lost my sight completely.

  Someone then turned me on my back, and I started to feel warm liquid glazing my body. The liquid stung as it hit every cut and scratch I’d received, and because of the smell, I knew they all were taking turns peeing on me. Not only were they abusing me physically, but mentally as well.

  I knew God hated me for what I had done with Ray. Now, I knew for sure. I don’t know if the other guys raped me or not, because my body had lost all nerve endings. And, to be honest, I really didn’t care one way or the other. I just wanted to die.

  And then my wish came true, because everything went black.

  *

  My eyes were so swollen when I returned from death, I couldn’t see anything. I tried to get up, but every bone in my body was crying out to be healed. I tried to open my mouth to yell for help, but I could hardly speak. I lay there feeling around for my handbag, hoping to get my cell phone, so I could call my mom. Even though I couldn’t speak that loudly or clearly, she would somehow know I was in trouble.

  Oh God, the pain pulsated through every limb of my body.

  I began to smell a bad odor. It smelled like burning blood, and worse yet, it seemed to be coming from inside of me. I don’t know whether Junior had drugged me or not, but I was scared and wanted to contact somebody, anybody.

  But, again, everything went black.

  Chapter 12

  I had awakened again and still couldn’t see, but this time I was lying in a bed. I tried to feel my face and felt bandages around my eyes and head, and tubes running in and out of my nose. My body still ached like hell, but I wanted to know where I was and if I was safe?

  “Is anybody there?” I asked in a hoarse voice.

  “Oh praise God! Cam, baby, how you feeling?” I heard my mom ask, as she placed her hands in mine.

  I was so happy to hear her voice, I started crying because I didn’t think I would ever see her again.

  “Ma,” I replied, straining my voice as it cracked.

  “Yes, sweetie, I’m here.”

  I squeezed her hands. “Ma, it hurts.”

  “I know, baby, I know. The doctors gave you some pain medicine, so try to lie still. God will take away the pain, if you pray.”

  I wanted to scream and let her know that God was the one that allowed this to happen in the first place and He didn’t give a shit about me, one way or the other. Instead, I said nothing as my mom sat on the side of the bed and held me in her arms. I cried like a baby while she rocked me back to sleep.

  *

  A few days had passed, and even though I spent my eighteenth birthday lying in this hospital bed, I was beginning to feel a lot better. My mom, my baby sister, Robin, and even my dad had come by, brought presents, flowers, and they sang and wished me a happy birthday.

  I really enjoyed seeing my girl Robin, until she wanted to get all the dirt, as she put it, to know what happened and who did it. I told her the same thing I told the police when they came wanting to know what had happened. I gave bits and pieces but didn’t tell them that Junior did it. One, I didn’t want Junior to come looking for me, and two, payback is a bitch. Trust me, I had plans for Junior, but until then, I decided to be a good little queen and do what the doctors told me so I could get back to normal.

  “Good morning, Cameron. How are you, today?” Beth asked. She was my morning nurse.

  I yawned. “I’m feeling better.”

  “That’s always good to hear.” She started taking my vitals. “Wow! I see all the flowers and presents. Did my favorite patient have a birthday?”

  “Yeah, my birthday was y
esterday.”

  “Awwww! Well, happy belated birthday.” Beth wrote some notes on her clipboard.

  “Thank you.”

  “Looks like somebody will be going home in a day or two, huh?”

  I smiled. “So they tell me.”

  “Well, just take it easy, and good luck,” Beth said, leaving my room.

  I lay in bed most of the morning just watching TV. My mom would stop in periodically to check on me. I was glad they’d brought me to the hospital where my mom volunteered because I would get to see her four or five times throughout the day. Robin would stop by from time to time as well, but again, she was busy studying for her SAT.

  Today, for some reason, I was feeling somewhat anxious, and I didn’t know why. I got up from my bed, went to the bathroom, and decided to walk around the hospital floor I was on. I felt like an old man walking around in my hospital robe and rolling this IV contraption hooked up to my arm. Every room I walked by, people’s injuries or sickness seemed to become worse and worse.

  After thirty minutes or so, this hospital was beginning to depress me, so I decided to go back to my room. As soon as I was about to enter, I was taken by surprise because there was a guy standing with his back to the door, looking at all of the cards and presents I had sitting in the windowsill.

  “Excuse you,” I said, standing at the entrance of my room.

  Mr. Jamison turned around and faced me. “Hey. How are you doing?”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Does that mean you’re sorry I came?”

  “No, I mean, how did you know I was here?” I responded, trying to get into bed.

  “I ran into your friend Robin. I believe that’s what she said her name was. She told me what happened and that you were here.” He tried to help me get in bed. “And I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Oh really? Why is that?”

  He sat on the bed next to me. “Look, I think you’re a cool little brotha, and I do like you. So, is that a crime?”