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Girls From da Hood 9 Page 9
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Page 9
It only took three weeks after my father was home for shit to hit the fan with my brother. Li’l Kev came in the house with his key one night after being gone for more than a week.
My mother was in the kitchen. Kelsi and I were in my bedroom gossiping. My mother’s screams erupted loudly through the apartment.
“No! Kevin! Oh God! No!” she belted out.
Kelsi and I scrambled up off our beds and ran to the front of the apartment.
“Let him go!” my mother screeched just as Kelsi and I rounded the corner.
That’s when I saw them. My father had Li’l Kev down on the couch, choking him around the neck with one hand.
“Daddy! Daddy!” I screamed, rushing over to the heap of bodies.
“You wanna act tough? Huh, huh? I’m gonna show you tough. I ain’t these boys out in the street. I’m a man who just did twelve years with real motherfuckers who did real things on these streets. You ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, Junior,” my father growled as he clamped down harder and harder on my brother’s neck.
Li’l Kev was making a low hissing noise. I could tell his oxygen was completely cut off. Kelsi was pulling one of my father’s arms and I was trying to push his massive body.
My mother was screaming, but I can’t even remember what she was saying in the chaos. My brother was turning a sickening shade of burgundy. I knew my father was powerful enough to take the life right out of Li’l Kev’s scrawny, fourteen-year-old body.
“Big K, please. Please let him go. I don’t know if I could take you being gone again,” Kelsi said soothingly.
I remember clearly that, even amid the chaos, I had looked at her strangely. Something inside of me felt weird. I couldn’t place it then. Besides, there was just so much going on.
My father slowly released his grip on Li’l Kev’s neck. My brother rolled onto the floor, holding his neck. He coughed and wheezed, trying to get his lungs to fill back up with air.
My father stood over him. My father’s chest was rising and falling rapidly and his fists were curled so tight his knuckles paled. “Now, li’l nigga. The next time I speak to you nicely, you speak to me nicely. I can’t make up for the lost time, but that don’t mean I’m gonna be disrespected by my own young’un,” my father huffed, his nostrils flaring. My father began walking to the back of our apartment.
My mother rushed over to Li’l Kev. “Kevin? Kevin? C’mon, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay,” she comforted him as she lifted Li’l Kev’s head and put him in a position she said would help oxygen go to his brain faster.
I was silent. I guess I was still shocked. I had never seen my father get violent in my life. After he was locked up, I heard stories about how notorious my father was on the streets, but at home, he had been nothing like that. I guess time and circumstances change everything. From that day forward I realized my father was definitely a changed man.
Chapter 11
Things with my parents changed after my father choked Li’l Kev that day. With my brother gone from the house, probably for good, my mother and father argued incessantly. Kelsi and I had no choice but to listen.
“You think you the man around here, Desiree! You dish me a little allowance like I’m a fucking kid. You take me shopping like I’m a fucking woman. I can’t put food on the table and you fucking let me know it every single day! I can’t even get niggas in the street to throw me a fuckin’ bone in this game, even though I was the one who fed their asses back in the nineties! Do you know what that’s like for me, Desi? Do you?” My father’s booming voice had yanked me out of my sleep.
I popped my eyes open, noticing that the sun wasn’t even up yet. What they arguing about now? I thought, my mind still fuzzy with sleep.
“Kevin, you need to forget being in the streets! You are forty years old, not twenty-something. If you feel inferior because I work every day, pay the bills, and do what needs to be done around here and for you, go find a real job! I’ve done nothing but try to make you feel at home since you’ve been here. Yes, I leave money for you, just so you don’t have to feel like you don’t have. Of course I bought you clothes; what else would you have worn? All of your outdated clothes from the nineties? I’m the breadwinner. So fucking what? Get over it! Kevin, I’m not going to stop doing what I have become accustomed to doing out here without you,” my mother screamed back. She was never really the type to raise her voice so I knew that she had to be pretty upset with my father right then.
“Doing without me? Without me seems to be a fucking theme around here! Yeah, seems like you became accustomed to doing a lot without me. A whole lot without me. You think I don’t see? Who is the motherfucker in the Beemer who picks you up every day? Huh . . . huh . . . Desi! Who the fuck is that! I bet you he made it all good around here without me!” my father boomed. He was definitely changing the tide of the argument.
My interest had been piqued. I had never heard of someone with a BMW picking my mother up for work. What is he talking about? He’s crazy. Mommy has never had another man besides him, I defended her in my mind. My father was definitely out of fucking order with his accusations now.
“Oh please, Kevin. That is a doctor from my job, who happens to be kind enough to come to this fucking hellhole to pick me up and take me to work. I don’t see you volunteering to get me there. You’ve been home two months; not once did you even ask me about my work. Not once did you ever ask me how hard it was for me to become a nurse . . . a head nurse at that!” my mother responded.
Doctor who takes her to work? Oh shit. I never knew my mother got a ride to work from a man. I could see how my father could take that wrong. After all, we did live in the projects. Doctors coming to the projects in nice whips were taking a risk. A man who took a risk like that on a woman wasn’t just trying to be helpful.
“Nah, I haven’t asked you because you’re too busy being gone all the time. When you are here you want to sleep or do whatever it is you like to do. I can barely get time to fuck my own wife. You know what that’s like? Huh? Nah, you don’t, Desi. I’ve been gone twelve fucking years. Twelve years I spent yanking my dick, dreaming about the day I could touch you again. Hold you in my arms like I used to do! And in the two months I’ve been home you’ve barely kissed me, much less fuck me! You know what that does to a man?” my father yelled, his voice cracking.
I wanted to just cover my ears and never listen again. Those project walls were so paper-thin, even if I had plugged my ears with cotton balls I would’ve still heard every word.
“That is unfair, Kevin. What you’re accusing me of is unfair. Just like you’ve been gone twelve years, I’ve been alone for twelve years. I haven’t had a man in my bed. I haven’t looked at another man. I haven’t been intimate with anyone, except you, during those cold, horrible conjugal visits. So, I’m sorry if I’ve gotten accustomed to going without sex, love, intimacy, but that’s what I had to do to survive the soul-stirring loneliness I’ve suffered for twelve years! You’ve changed too, Kevin. Your touch is not the same. You are not the same loving, tender, caring man who left me in 1996. Kevin, you may not want to hear it, but everything for us has just changed.” My mother was crying now.
I could hear that her words were coming through sobs. Thinking of my mother in pain made me hurt inside. I heard my father open their bedroom door and slam it. I pictured him stalking down the hallway and out of the apartment. Then, the apartment door slammed loud enough to shake the entire place.
Kelsi walked over and got into the bed with me. She hugged me tight from behind. I closed my eyes and let my tears drain onto my pillow.
“Shhh, don’t cry, Chey. It’s gonna be all right. Married people fight. They just have a difference on the way they see things now. After a little while, things will fit together for both of them. They are gonna be happy just like back in the days when we used to go to the rides. When Big K would kiss up and love up on Ms. Desi every minute they were together. That will happen for them again,” Kelsi whispered to me.
I
had to wonder if what she was saying was right. Were things ever going to be the same for my mother and father? I didn’t say anything in response to Kelsi. I just took comfort in my best friend being there for me. Being there for us . . . like we’d done for her so many times over the years.
One of the saddest days of my life was the day I had to leave to go away to medical school in Texas. I had decided to leave Brooklyn amid all of the turmoil going on in my house. I couldn’t stand to see my parents at odds. My father was turning into an angry, bitter person, which was not how I wanted to remember him. My mother had retreated into a workaholic, and when she was home, she didn’t speak much. My brother, well, he was completely out of the house. He would see us occasionally, but only when he had watched my father leave the building. I couldn’t stand knowing that the streets had taken hold of Li’l Kev’s life. I knew for sure that my mother had worked hard to make sure we turned out better than that.
Kelsi was in deep with Scorpio and, on the low, she was still making sure no-good-ass Peaches had food to survive.
I didn’t have anywhere to fit in all of that chaos. Most days, I felt lost, like I didn’t belong anywhere. I used to throw myself into my schoolwork, but since I had graduated, I didn’t even have that. The decision to leave hadn’t been that hard once I weighed my options—go away to med school or stay in the projects and deal with everyone else’s drama.
“I’m going to miss you, Chey,” Kelsi said, swiping at her tears angrily like she wanted to beat herself up for crying.
I threw a folded pile of clothes into my big purple suitcase without looking at her.
“When you’ve been with someone every single day for twelve years, which is most of our lives, you can’t even imagine yourself one day without them,” Kelsi continued.
I stopped putting things in my suitcase and turned toward her. “I love you so much, Kels. I’m going to make this doctor thing happen so our lives can be better. You will always be my sister; no amount of distance can ever change that,” I said through tears.
Kelsi broke down. She flopped back on her bed and sobbed. Her shoulders quaked as she let the racking sobs take over. I sat next to her, pulled her up, slid my arm around her shoulder, and cried right along with her. I guess now I know that was the last real, true friend exchange we were going to have before the proverbial shit hit the fan.
Li’l Kev didn’t come see me off, but he sent one of his cronies with a package for me. I slid it into my oversized carry-on bag and decided I’d open it when I got to the airport that day. My father didn’t come to the airport either. I was glad, because the tension between him and my mother was enough to make me want to throw up every time. Kelsi, of course, decided to stay back as well. She said there was no way she could see me disappear into the airport and not lose it. We joked that she would be screaming so loud that the airport security would be hogtying her and carrying her away like she was a terrorist.
It was just my mother and I. She’d chartered a cab service to take us to John F. Kennedy Airport. We left two hours early so that my mother would have time to sit with me before I went through security. Once I was checked in, we found a little restaurant that was right outside of security. I didn’t have much of an appetite.
My mother’s eyes were so sad. “I’m surely gonna miss you. My baby’s first time away from her mother in her life.” My mother started the conversation first. She let out a windstorm of breath. “I can’t believe you have grown up so fast,” she said, dabbing at her tears with the cloth napkin from the table.
“Ma, I thought we wasn’t going to do the sappy thing,” I complained. I had cried enough for one day.
My mother put her hand up and smiled. She sniffled back her snot and wiped the last of her tears. “Okay, okay. I did promise. I’m just telling you how I feel, baby. One last thing: just know I am so proud of you that if I could afford to write it in the sky I would. You are the strongest little girl on the planet and I know you’ll make me proud. There is nothing in this world that can match my love for you. I don’t want you to think about anything going on at home. Just work hard and become the best doctor on the planet,” my mother preached before the waitress interrupted us.
I never replied to my mother’s little speech because I didn’t want to cry anymore. I should have. I should have told her thank you for her kind words. I should have said something. I had no way of knowing that would be the last face-to-face conversation I would have with my mother. I mean, had I known that, I would’ve told her this:
“No, Mom, you are the strongest person I know on earth. You came from the bottom and you made it all work for you. You are one of the most influential women in the world and if I could I would get on every media outlet in the world, on top of every mountain, and anywhere people could hear me and say my mother, Desiree A. Turner, is the most remarkable woman on the planet and I love her more than life itself!”
That’s what I would’ve said to my mother had I ever gotten the chance to see her beautiful face again. But, instead, I was robbed of that opportunity.
“I thought that my father would love my mother forever, after all she had done for him.”—Cheyenne Turner
“I thought Big K would love me forever, if I did this one thing for him.”—Kelsi Jones
Chapter 12
Kelsi Jones
Cheyenne left that day, leaving me with a huge void, a hole in my life so big that nothing or no one could’ve ever filled it. I had moped around the apartment for hours alone. Being alone forced me to look back on my life. I was twenty-one years old, the daughter of a crack whore, a high school dropout, and the sex toy of the local drug dealer, who treated me like a piece of shit under his Prada shoes. I would do anything for a quick buck, including suck dick, fuck in public places, and let myself be passed around for enjoyment. I had the typical, stereotypical, hood chick’s story. My life was the shit urban novels (the only kind of books I ever read) were made of. I even thought about writing a book; but I knew I didn’t have the patience or discipline to sit at no computer and type my story out.
I was in Cheyenne’s room, on my bed. Yes, if you didn’t know by now, I had my own bed in the Turner home. I heard the apartment door slam. I figured it was Ms. Desiree coming back from the airport. I had so many questions for her about whether or not Cheyenne finally broke down at the airport or if Cheyenne had sent me any parting messages. I wrapped myself in my robe and went toward the front of the apartment.
“Oh shit!” I jumped. I had bumped straight into Big K. “You scared the shit out of me,” I gasped as I stumbled backward.
“You ran into me, so how I scared you? There you go again, walking with that head down,” he joked.
I smiled.
“Pretty girls are not supposed to walk with their heads down. I told you that before,” he chastised playfully.
I blushed.
He changed his course and we both headed into the living room/kitchen area. That was the first time I felt that old feeling again—that overwhelming closeness and tingling inside for Big K that I used to feel when I first went around him as a kid.
“So how did things go with Cheyenne at the airport?” I asked, grabbing some orange juice from the refrigerator.
Big K frowned so hard his eyebrows dipped between his eyes.
“I didn’t go with them. I thought you knew that. Cheyenne probably didn’t want me there anyway. She’s her mother’s child. I can’t compete there,” Big K said sadly. “I thought for sure you would go,” he said, his tone more like a question than a statement.
I stopped pouring the juice. I gave him an equally strange frown.
“I couldn’t even take helping her pack without crying all over the place. No way I was going to make it in the airport. I would’ve been a damn blubbering fool out there,” I answered.
“Yeah, same here,” he said solemnly. “I didn’t want to crowd her mother either. You know? I already feel like the outsider around here. I wanted to give them their space and
time before she got on that plane,” he replied.
I could hear the hurt in his voice. Something flashed red inside of me. How dare they leave him out of such an important event! They are both selfish bitches for that! I ranted in my head.
“So, tell me about you. I have been so caught up in getting my family to want me here that I haven’t even had time to find out how you’re really doing. I mean, with Peaches all fucked up and . . .” Big K started.
I twisted my lips and he stopped talking.
“Damn . . . I never realize how awkward it is when someone asks me how I’m doing. I’m so used to people not really giving a fuck or either they just know what’s up,” I replied, pushing the glass away from me as I suddenly lost my desire to drink the juice.
“I always cared though. Since Cheyenne met you, I’ve always cared about you . . . a lot,” Big K replied.
I smiled. I noticed he said he cared, but never said he cared about me like a daughter. Maybe he felt the same tingly, man-and-woman love for me that I felt for him. At least that was how I took his statement.
“I know you did. I always felt that you cared. I never stopped feeling that even when you were away,” I said, my voice going low. I wasn’t able to look him in the eyes. I felt so vulnerable at that moment.
He reached over and used his hand to lift my chin up. “I already told you . . . pretty girls don’t walk around with their heads down. No matter what the situation is, you hold your head up high . . . always,” Big K said, letting the kind smile I remember from back in the days spread across his face. I hadn’t seen that smile since he’d been home. I felt powerful that the first time I saw it was while he was speaking to me and not to Ms. Desiree.
Big K and I talked for hours that first day Cheyenne was gone. I bared my soul and told him everything. I held nothing back about my past relationships. Who I fucked in the neighborhood. How many times I had been pregnant and had abortions. I told him all about my abusive relationship with Scorpio. And, most revealing of all, I disclosed to Big K all the trouble I still had with sex after what Took did to me. I talked to Big K that day like he was a licensed professional therapist. Never once did I feel like he was judging me. In fact, the way he listened so intently made me feel a deeper love and respect for him. It wasn’t like a father/ daughter love and respect either. It was that mutual respect that two adults have for one another when both have nothing else to hide.