Girls From da Hood 9 Page 6

  “Get up and go to the bathroom!” Carlene screamed, grabbing my arm roughly. She dragged me off the bed until my feet hit the floor. My knees buckled and I went down. I hit my chin on the cold tile floor. More pain swirled at the backs of my eyes.

  “I know what you did now! I can see it and smell it on you! You fucked around with my fucking man didn’t you? Oh, bitch! I told you I wasn’t tolerating that shit! Get the fuck in the bathroom and clean yourself up! Now!” Carlene boomed.

  Tears spilled out of my eyes. I think her accusatory words hurt worse than Took forcing his dick into my virginal opening. With each step toward the bathroom a fire raged under my navel.

  “Wash every bit of him off of you! I knew you was gonna do this shit! I knew it! I guess your Nana ain’t teach you no different than she taught me!” Carlene screamed some more. This time her voice cracked like she was about to cry.

  I finally made it into the bathroom, and with what little strength I had I slammed the door. I plopped down on the toilet, but that made the fire between my legs rage even worse. I turned on the water in the tub.

  When I sat down in the warm water, with the pain I felt I knew I would pass out again. I fought through it. “Aggggghhhhh!” I screamed over and over again. That fireball of anger in my chest had grown so big it exploded out of my mouth now. I had finally reached my breaking point in that house.

  Cheyenne knew right away something was wrong after she knocked on our door and I said I didn’t want to go outside to play with her. I would’ve never turned down an opportunity to see my best friend in the whole wide world. We had been waiting the entire school year for summertime so that we could spend every hour of every day together until we had to go to bed at night.

  “I don’t wanna go outside. I don’t wanna go to your house either. Just leave me alone,” I had snapped at her.

  Cheyenne had walked away that day, shoulders slumped, on the brink of tears. I had been so mean to her. I felt horrible afterward, but I couldn’t take a chance of her finding out.

  Carlene had threatened me every which way that if I told anyone what Took had done to me, I would be dead. Carlene said she would take me away from Carey Gardens for good and I would never see the Turners again. The thought of not seeing Cheyenne, Big K, Ms. Desiree, and Li’l Kevin made me change my mind about going to the police on Took.

  Even then I knew that a grown man fucking a nine-year-old was against the law. I mean, back then, I had reasoned with myself that even if it wasn’t against the police law, it damn sure was against God’s law.

  For two days after what Took did to me, I didn’t eat. I didn’t drink. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t talk. I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel. I was just numb. I hardly moved from my bed. When I peed it hurt so bad that I would hold it until I just couldn’t take it any longer.

  Carlene would come into the front room where I slept and look at me like I was the lowest scum of the earth. She would curse, mumble, and then crawl her ass back into her room. She didn’t go outside either. I could swear that she had aged ten years in those two days. Her face started looking sunken in and the skin on her neck looked loose like a turkey’s neck. Her body didn’t seem as filled out as it had; in fact, her reindeer ass was barely like a squirrel ass now. Her usually beautifully painted nails were chipped, broken, and brittle looking. Even Carlene’s hair wasn’t thick and shiny like it had been. I don’t know if I hadn’t noticed her losing all of her weight over the year I’d been there because I was too busy spending time with the Turners or what, but those two days I stayed in the house, seeing her as much as I did, I noticed that there was a drastic change from the Carlene who had brought me there and the Carlene I was looking at now. Carlene was boney, drawn up, and looked older than Ms. Lula now.

  Took came and went like he usually did. Whenever I heard him put his keys into the door to come in, I would snap my eyes shut and pretend to be asleep. He didn’t speak or stop in my room. He didn’t use the kitchen to cook his stuff either. When my eyes were closed, I envisioned sixty different ways I could torture Took while he was awake.

  On the fifth day of my isolation, Carlene finally left the house. With not so much as a word to me, she click-clacked her heels down the hallway and out of the apartment door. I knew Carlene was all dressed up in her saggy dress with no place to go. She hadn’t even asked me if I was hungry or needed anything before she slammed out of the apartment. I was used to her neglect anyway. An hour after Carlene left, the door was rattling with someone knocking on it.

  “Kelsi, I know you in there!” Cheyenne wasn’t taking no for an answer. She had come to the door with her father.

  When I pulled back the door, my heart felt like it jumped up into my throat.

  “Ay, little lady, what’s going on with you?” Big K asked, his infectious smile gleaming as usual. Cheyenne stood behind her father with her arms folded, dressed nicely, looking color coordinated, clean, neat, and beautiful as ever.

  “Why you been giving my princess the cold shoulder and not coming outside or to the house? Did she do something to you?”

  “I’m sick,” I lied, dropping my eyes to the floor. I hated lying to Big K. I was not prepared to tell anyone the truth about what had happened. How would I have even formulated the words at the time? What would I have said to Big K, “Oh, I’m just sick because Took rammed his dick into me over and over again until I was bleeding and now I can hardly walk”?

  “Oh yeah? What kind of sick? Let me take you to the doctor if you’re sick,” Big K said, as he looked beyond me into the apartment. I knew he must’ve been thinking where the fuck was Peaches. I wasn’t exactly of age to be home alone.

  “No . . . um . . . no! I don’t need no doctor. I have medicine and stuff here,” I lied again, this time a little more frantically.

  There was no way I could let Big K take me to a doctor. I knew by the way I had to pee and make number two that there was something definitely wrong down there and a doctor would tell right away. They would ask me what happened and I would have to tell on Took. If I did that Carlene would take me away.

  “Let me come inside and see what kind of medicine you got,” Big K said. It wasn’t a question or a real hard demand, but I knew he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, especially from me.

  I stepped aside and Big K and Cheyenne stepped inside. He looked around curiously. His usually kind eyes were now serious, dark, and scanning. He knew something was not right.

  “Listen, little lady, why don’t you throw on some clothes. I’ll take you to the house and you can get dressed over there. We’re going to your favorite place today,” Big K said in the most comforting voice he could muster while trying to hide his obvious anger.

  I knew he was fighting against it because his fists were balled so tight the tops of his hands were turning white and he was biting down hard on his bottom lip. There was no sense in saying no to his request. I knew by the way Big K started pacing up and down that he was not going to leave me there. I looked at the tears rimming Cheyenne’s eyes as I limped around trying to get dressed. Even she could tell that I was never going to be the same.

  Chapter 6

  I ended up at Coney Island Hospital. As much as I screamed and begged them not to take me to the emergency room, Ms. Desiree and Big K took me anyway. The end result was I had to have my perineum stitched. That, as I learned at barely nine years old, is the area between a girl’s vagina and rectum. I stayed overnight with Ms. Desiree right by my side. Cheyenne didn’t really understand what was going on; her mother had just told her that I had gotten sick and needed to get better.

  Ms. Desiree had cried and cried for me. “She’s just a baby! What kind of monster would do that to a baby?” Ms. Desiree whispered to Big K through tears.

  “Trust, it ain’t gonna be left at this. Any motherfucker that would do this to a kid don’t deserve to live,” Big K said.

  They thought I was asleep. Listening to them talk, I knew they really loved me.

  Big
K picked us up from the hospital the next day with Cheyenne and Li’l Kevin. None of us spoke on the way to their house. I felt too ashamed to speak. Ms. Desiree cried every time she tried to open her mouth to speak. Big K huffed, puffed, and cussed so he couldn’t even speak. Cheyenne sensed that there was something terribly wrong so she just didn’t speak. Li’l Kevin was only two years old so he could barely speak.

  When we got to the Turners, Cheyenne and I went up to her room.

  “Surprise!” she yelled as she pushed open the door.

  My eyes lit up. The room was filled with balloons, teddy bears, and flowers.

  “Daddy got all of these for you.” Cheyenne beamed.

  I inched into the room slowly, the stitches still making me walk funny. The doctor said they would dissolve on their own. I stood in the middle of the floor like a lost child. Hot tears ran a race down my cheeks.

  “You don’t like them?” Cheyenne asked, moving toward me.

  “No, I love them. I love them a lot. I love all of y’all a lot,” I cried, unable to control the floodgate of tears that had opened up. Cheyenne hugged me tight.

  “We love you too, Kelsi, and we ain’t never going to let nothing bad happen to you again,” Cheyenne promised.

  For the first time in my life, I believed someone’s promise. Even Nana hadn’t kept her promise to keep me in the Bronx with her. This time, something in my heart told me the promise was real.

  Cheyenne was the one who told me about what had happened to Took. He had been beaten so badly, she said, his entire face was unrecognizable. All of his fingers had been broken and every tooth in his mouth had been knocked out. She told me that she’d also heard that whoever had beat up on Took had also shoved three broomsticks taped together up his butthole. Cheyenne had been the first one to start laughing when she said, “Up his butthole,” and then I burst out laughing right behind her.

  I laughed so hard at the end I was crying. I didn’t feel sorry for Took, not one bit. But, for the weeks I stayed at the Turners, I often wondered about Carlene. Took was always the one who had made sure Carlene had stuff, like food, the medicine she took to keep from being sick every morning, and just basic things like soap to wash her ass. I could just imagine what Carlene was doing to stay afloat while Took was gone. After a few days of worrying about her I stopped thinking about her entirely. Out of sight, out of mind, I guess.

  It was almost the end of summer before my body fully healed. I was finally well enough to go back outside with Cheyenne. Although every day I thought about what had happened to me, I put on a happy face and tried to be a normal nine-year-old.

  Cheyenne and I were sisters in every sense of the word. Ms. Desiree treated us as equals, even when we got in trouble for giggling all night when we were supposed to be asleep. We would ride with Big K over to the projects every day. While he “worked,” we would play double Dutch, hopscotch, Hula Hoops, Red light/ Green light, steal the bacon, and skelly.

  Cheyenne and I were called Bobbsey Twins. We dressed alike. We acted alike. We liked the same foods. The Turners had essentially adopted me.

  Most days, when Big K finished up his work at the building, he would take us to the rides. Sometimes, he would get finished early, go pick up Ms. Desiree and Li’l Kevin, and we’d all go to the movies and dinner in Sheepshead Bay. Those nights became my favorites because I got to watch how Big K loved all over Ms. Desiree. How he opened doors for her, held her hand, kissed her, and smiled at her like she was the only woman alive. I would make pretend I was Ms. Desiree and Big K was my husband instead of hers.

  I could never forget the day when life as we all knew it came to a screeching halt. It was a blazing hot August day in 1996. I had just turned ten the week before; that is how I always remember it so clearly. Cheyenne and I were about to jump out of Big K’s Range Rover with our matching Guess jean skirt outfits, Hula Hoops, and two bags filled with candy.

  “Stay right in front, little ladies. I’m not staying that long today,” Big K said as he parked up the Range Rover.

  “Okay, Daddy,” Cheyenne said as we giggled out of the door.

  “Okay, Daddy,” I whispered after her.

  We started laughing harder. Big K parked and got out. I remember watching him walk with his distinct bop toward the building. I always watched him go in and come out with his money.

  That day, as he walked closer to the door, something seemed different to me. There weren’t half as many people outside like usual. Lula was even missing from her bench. Cheyenne was gabbing to me about something; she was nowhere near as observant as I was. I guess being raped had done away with the little carefree kid in me. I noticed everything and I was always watching people.

  “Where is everybody?” Cheyenne finally asked, stopping for a minute.

  I swung my head from left to right. My face was serious, my eyes scanning. I opened my mouth to respond but never got a chance. I had my eye on Big K’s back and then boom!

  It happened in slow motion. Big K yanked on the door handle of the building and as soon as he pulled it back we heard it. It was like thunder and lightning had struck. The rumble of feet came from everywhere, like a herd of wild elephants was trampling through the block.

  “Police! Police! Don’t move! Put your fucking hands on your head!” were some of the things we heard. Cheyenne whipped her head around and saw what I was already watching.

  “Daddy!” Cheyenne screeched at the top of her lungs.

  I grabbed her and pulled her down to the ground.

  Loud flash bangs erupted around us. I could feel my heart hammering against my chest bone.

  “Daddy!” she screamed again.

  I held on to Cheyenne with all of my might to keep her from running toward Big K and the danger.

  Police with long guns, short guns, helmets, and black bulletproof vests surrounded him. We watched in horror as they threw Big K to the ground face first.

  I saw the blood explode from his face and nose. That was when I started screaming too.

  “Big K! No! You can’t take him! He didn’t do nothing wrong!” I let out a guttural scream. “Don’t hurt him!” Before I knew it I was on my feet racing toward Big K, Cheyenne hot on my heels.

  I was scooped off my feet like a little ragdoll.

  “Hey! Get out of here, little girl, before you get hurt!” a police officer chastised. Cheyenne was right next to me, flailing wildly as another officer held her. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Let her go. Let her go,” I screeched.

  Cheyenne was thrown right down next to me. We hugged each other tightly up against a fence and watched as Big K was hoisted up off the ground in handcuffs.

  “It’s gonna be all right, little ladies,” was the last thing Big K said to us before he was thrown into the back of a waiting black van.

  Sixteen other guys we knew from my building were also arrested and carted off like animals.

  Cheyenne and me cried for two days straight after. I think Ms. Desiree cried for months, maybe years after. The final word about Big K’s arrest was that Took had snitched on Big K and taken down his entire empire just like that. It was all because of me and the beating Took had been given by Big K and his workers.

  Big K had risked everything—all because he had been protecting me.

  “There are very few women who would love someone else’s child exactly as they loved their own. But then again, there are very few women like my mother.”—Cheyenne

  Turner to the prosecutor during their initial meeting.

  Chapter 7

  Cheyenne Turner

  August 2010

  “The court has heard from the defendant. It is now time for the court to hear from the victim’s family,” Judge Graves rasped. She had taken off her glasses and was pinching the bridge of her nose as she spoke.

  I couldn’t tell if she wanted to cry or what. I guessed Kelsi’s story had touched the judge in some way. I hadn’t thought about the years before my father got locked up in so long
I found myself hanging on Kelsi’s every word. Those were the best days of my life. I found myself tearing up as I recalled how much I loved Kelsi back then. She was truly like my sister then. I shook my head left to right trying to get my focus back. I had a very important job to do. A very important story to tell.

  I tapped my brother on his shoulder. “Kev, it’s our turn to talk,” I said to him.

  His fists were balled tightly, his mouth was pursed, and he rocked his legs furiously. I knew what that meant, but I still wanted to give him the chance to say something if he wanted.

  “C’mon,” I whispered harshly, touching his shoulder.

  He wouldn’t move. Getting a defiant teenage boy who had lost his mother to speak in front of throngs of people wasn’t a battle I was prepared to fight in front of all of those people. Fuck it. I had to do what I had to do, with or without Kev.

  I looked up at the judge with a simple, nervous grin on my face. I guessed it was all on me to speak on behalf of our family. As I inched out of the row where we sat, I suddenly felt the acids in my stomach burning. My dress suddenly seemed too tight and sweat lined up like ready soldiers at my hairline. It seemed like it took me forever to walk up to the little wooden podium where the microphone stood. The courtroom was eerily quiet although it was packed. I filled my cheeks with air, an attempt at staving off the wave of nausea that swept over me. I felt Kelsi staring at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. She’d taught me a huge life lesson—there was nothing deeper than love turned to hate. I had loved her. I had loved Kelsi so deeply that now I hated her enough to kill her with my bare hands.

  “Ms. Turner, are you all right?” Judge Graves asked, her eyes going low at the sides.

  I cleared my dry throat, closed my eyes, pictured my mother’s face, and shook my head up and down. I took a quick glance over at Kelsi then. She quickly averted her eyes from me. I knew she’d never be able to hold eye contact with me. She was a coward in my book.