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Page 3
Although it was wrong to rob someone if felt like the best day of my life and for some reason I didn’t feel one ounce of remorse. I was starting to worry about how much alike we really were. After taking his directions for twenty minutes I was growing agitated because whenever I asked for the destination he kept throwing out orders. “Are you gonna tell me where we going or not?”
“I am telling you, now make a left on that street.” He pointed ahead and I followed his lead. Before long we were in front of a set of row homes in Washington D.C. I parked in the first available space and looked around.
“You ready?” he asked rubbing my leg.
“Who lives here?”
He kissed my nose and then my cheek. “Us.” He opened his door and I did the same. Quickly, fearing if I didn’t I would get left behind, falling into homelessness again.
When he reached the only house on the block with a green door he knocked twice and a chocolate female with hazel eyes and long cornrows running down her back opened it. She was pretty, whoever she was but her attitude was shitty. Her dark skin seemed to glow but her eyes were baggy, like she was stressed. “Where have you been, Rufus?” Her hands seemed magnetized to her hips. “I been looking for you, for weeks!”
He walked in and I followed, closing the door behind myself. She was too young to be his mother so I figured she was an aunt or sister.
Rufus cut the lights off first. “It’s too bright in here.” He yawned. “I had something to do but I’m home now.” He walked into the kitchen, grabbed two beers and handed one to me. Then he kicked off his shoes in the middle of the floor.
As if she finally saw me she looked at him and back at me. “And who the fuck is this?”
Rufus walked toward the back of the house with me on his heels. “My cousin.” My stomach dropped and when she turned her head he winked at me. “Bernice, this is my wife Jackie and Jackie this is family.” We both walked into a small room and he closed the door in her face.
Inside of the room were a twin size bed and two brown recliners. It looked more like a den with bedroom tendencies. “What was that, Rufus?” I whispered. “The last I remember we had sex. And now we’re supposed to be kin?”
He gulped the rest of the beer, tossed a cushion off one of the recliners and removed a plastic bag. I’d been around my brother enough to know heroin when I saw it. Removing the contents, which included cotton, a syringe, a rubber strap and a bent spoon, I watched him do his thing.
“Are you gonna answer me or not?” I placed the beer on the floor and crossed my arms over my breasts. “Because I’m about to leave.”
“Listen, you’re homeless, baby girl,” he tapped the vile a few times, and injected the needle in his arm. “I’m looking out for you, maybe you should be a little more grateful.” When he was done he tossed it on the table and looked at me through squinted eyes. His voice slurred as he asked, “Want…want…me to get you right?”
I kicked the beer over, stormed out of the room and then out of the house.
CHAPTER THREE
BERNICE
I was getting some good sleep until my mother woke me up with a smack to the face with the bottom of her dingy flip-flop. “Get the fuck up, lazy!”
I rolled over in the bed, sat up and rubbed my face. “Mama, you don’t have to hit me to get attention.” I rubbed my cheek.
She dropped the shoe on the floor, slipped her size 10 foot inside of it and closed the first button on her maid uniform, the one closest to her hairy chin. “Don’t tell me what I can do. I only let you back because you said you would help me with your father. Now I’m on the way to work and he’s in the tub waiting. Get him cleaned up and don’t forget to take the chicken out of the freezer.”
I sighed. Every thing with her was done with an attitude and a scream. That’s one of the reasons I preferred not to be home. I can’t remember one day when my mother was happy all day. It’s like she blamed me for being born. “Alright, mama.” I rubbed my throbbing face again.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Bernice. I can just call my boss and tell him I need another day to get your father together. It ain’t like he won’t give it to me.”
“You love to fight with me,” I said under my breath.
“Why would I fight with you? Huh? You’re my child. You’re the one who comes in and out of this house mad at us because you wanted a life we couldn’t offer. Mad at us because we couldn’t buy you fashionable clothes and shoes. Mad at us because—”
“You and daddy were on heroin for most of my life,” I said interrupting her.
Her jaw dropped and I knew I went too far.
“You’re right, we did make a few mistakes.” She stepped closer. “But don’t ever think the same thing can’t happen to you.”
“I will never be on drugs, ma. And I would never abandon my child and leave her to take care of herself like you and daddy did to me.”
“You think you so strong, and I hope you are, let’s just hope you don’t live long enough to eat your own words.” Her jaw twitched. “Look, I wasted enough time on you and now I’m late for work. Are you gonna take care of your father or not?”
“I said I got it, ma, just go on.” I stood up so she could believe me, grabbed my black robe and walked her into the living room.
When she opened the front door and I heard the car door slam I crawled back into bed for a few more minutes. My father was a grown man. He’d be okay if I caught a few more Z’s.
I must’ve been sleep for about thirty minutes when I heard, “My dick cold! Help me! My dick cold!”
I jumped out of bed and stood in the middle of the room. At first I thought I was hearing things until he called out again.
“My dick cold! My dick cold! Help me!”
Rolling my eyes I sighed, tied my robe tighter and walked into the bathroom. Before doing anything I stood in the doorway and looked at him. There my chubby father was, sitting in the tub looking at me with wide eyes. For the past ten years my father has had severe dementia. Even before then he was moody and would forget things but my mother thought it would go away. It took years for her to understand that it never would.
Although he was out of touch with reality more times than not, he had moments when his thoughts were very clear. Rare moments when he could remember the most interesting stories about his past and I was always intrigued. During those times I loved being around him.
During times like this I didn’t.
Feeling bad for dosing back off, the first thing I did was turned the warm water on. Then I grabbed the soap and the yellow washcloth floating in the water. When his bath was the right temperature I turned the water off, made the rag sudsy and cleaned him good. Helping him to his feet I attempted to wipe his penis, which was my least favorite part, but it kept hiding between the sack of his balls. This thing was so small I wondered how he fucked my mother and I was conceived.
“You okay now, daddy? Need anything else?”
“Who are you?”
I smiled and exhaled. “I’m your daughter, don’t you remember?”
“You my woman?” He didn’t understand a word I was saying.
“No daddy, I’m your daughter.”
I kissed him on the cheek and tried to hold back tears. Sometimes I think if my father was well, my mother and me would have a better relationship. I think she resented me for not allowing her life to become my own.
When I was younger, and Grand was still home, I was the one who could never go anywhere. I was the one who had to help mama with daddy. Grand was a boy and mama thought that meant he needed a social life. But where was mine?
It was because of her letting him do anything he wanted that my brother took partying to another level.
It wasn’t until last year that I decided not to be my mother’s slave anymore and we had been fighting ever since. Sometimes I wished she would stop looking for me and leave me alone when I was out in the streets, but she never did. Grand said it was becaus
e she loved me but I didn’t believe him.
If anything she hates me and I hate her too.
After my father was clean I helped him out of the tub and he seemed to be relaxed. As if the last outburst never happened. I wrapped him in his blue robe. He was so serene that I thought something was up and then I felt it. It was warm and wet and sat in the middle of my right foot. When I looked down I couldn’t believe it, he shitted on me.
“Daddy, what are you doing?” I yelled, kicking my foot to get it off. It plopped on the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me you had to go? We were in the bathroom!”
Instead of answering he continued to empty his bowels in the middle of the hallway. I was filled with anger. Why was I back here? I felt my chest wanting to explode and my temples throbbed.
If I stayed this kind of thing would happen all of the time and I’m not sure I could take it. When I looked into his eyes I felt sorry for him because I knew he didn’t know what he was doing. Still, it wasn’t my fault either and I didn’t want this to be my life.
“Stay right here, daddy,” I pointed at him. “Do not move.”
I left him in the middle of the hallway, grabbed some newspapers from the kitchen and placed them on the floor. I helped my dad down so that his rear was directly on President Nixon’s face. “Listen, daddy, I’m gonna leave you here for a second. I’ll be back in a—”
When there was a knock at the door my eyes widened and my heart rocked. If my mother doubled back and saw her husband like this it would be the end of my time on earth.
Slowly I walked to the window next to the door, glanced out and saw a yellow Vega outside. Quickly I looked down at myself, took a deep breath and opened the door. There Rufus was, smelling good and looking great. Wearing all black and a gold pinky ring he looked like Marvin Gaye, except he had a baldhead. I was always amazed at how he switched from wretched to impeccable in a second. “What you want?” I asked as if uninterested.
“You.”
I sighed. “How you know where my pad was?”
“You told me, when we were drinking at the motel one night. Said you lived on Kennedy, and your crib was the only one with an ugly blue and white awning.” He looked up at it and back at me. “Why you leave?” He squinted his nose. “And what’s that smell?”
I tucked the foot that my daddy shit on further behind me. “I left because you got me in the same house as your old lady and I didn’t even know you had one.”
“She’s a square, mama. Not down like you.” He reached for me and I could smell his cologne. “I’m only staying with her because she got a job at the printing plant, and good benefits. But the plan always been to drop her.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You do that to her, how I know you won’t do the same to me?”
“Because you in on the secret and she’s not. Let her think we just cousins and come back with me. As long as I get to take care of you what difference does it make? You don’t want to be here, I know it.” He looked over my shoulder and my father had wandered behind me, a piece of newspaper stuck to his ass.
I looked at my dad and shook my head. “Rufus, I got stuff to do.”
He laughed, I must didn’t sound too convincing. “So what you gonna do now? Live with your mother and be her slave? Come on, babes. This spots no place for a dame like you.”
He was weakening me with each word. The more I thought about it the more it made sense. He had to care about me, why else would he bring me in the house with his wife? Besides, if she was stupid enough to believe I was family that was her problem not mine.
“You coming back B? Where I can take care of you and get you right?”
I looked into his eyes. My heart said, ‘what are you waiting on’, but my mind warned me that something was wrong with this man. When my father walked closer and I could smell him I sighed. “Give me a second. Let me take care of him and I’m leaving…with you.”
CHAPTER FOUR
BERNICE
Cops took the Vega the night before, and we had planned to use it to go to the store.
We woke up that morning, planning to buy seafood from the Warf in Washington DC, when we looked outside and it was gone. Realizing the car wouldn’t be ours forever, and grateful they didn’t catch us in it, I was somewhat relieved. Still, without a ride we were back on the bus, something I wasn’t looking forward to with Rufus’ weird jerking habit.
I was standing in the middle of the kitchen dicing potatoes and onions for breakfast when Jackie walked up behind me. I looked over my shoulder at her, and noticed she seemed to get prettier as the days passed.
Rufus was 19 and it was hard to understand what he wanted with a 17 year old when he had Jackie who was 22 and had her shit together. She was a total package—beautiful, employed and a homeowner.
Judging by her chocolate skin tone and recalling the woman on the bus, I think he had a thing for darker women. And since I was light skin I was all confused.
“Where is he?” she asked, slinking into the kitchen, wearing a red silk chemise that hugged all of her curves. She was too close and it made me uncomfortable.
Dicing more onions although I didn’t need anymore I said, “He went to get fish from the Warf.” I glanced at the clock on the wall and back on the food. “He’s been gone a little over an hour. Should be back soon.”
“How he get there? My car in the shop?”
I shrugged. “Told me not to worry, just to have breakfast ready so that’s what I’m doing.” I tossed the cleaned diced potatoes in the cast iron pan with the onions, placing a little water and butter inside, just enough to cover the bottom. “Hungry?”
“I think you lying, bitch,” she said harshly.
I turned the eye to the stove on calmly, even though my stomach felt like it was in my coody-cat. I covered the pan with the top, turned around and said, “Did you say something?”
“You heard me, and I know you not who you say you are.” Her face was tight but the corners of her mouth held a smile. “Are you really his cousin?”
“Jackie, I don’t know where all of this is coming from. If you felt like you didn’t believe me why you didn’t talk to Rufus?”
“Because he’s saying the same shit, that ya’ll blood. But how come I never saw you before?”
“You know Rufus got a huge scattered family. Most of them down ‘Ssissippi.”
“Don’t you mean most of ya’ll down Mississippi?”
Oops.
“Listen, you’d be hard pressed to get all of us in one room together.” I sighed but walked toward her as if I meant no harm. “Jackie, I want to like you, I really do, but you gotta stop accusing me of stuff. This the first time you saying something about me living here but I feel tension when you look at me everyday. I am his cousin, but if you want me to leave just say it.”
“Why? So I can lose contact with Rufus again? And have him blame me?”
“All the same, it’s your call not mine.” I threw my hands up in the air and released them.
Silence.
Suddenly I saw the tension disperse from her body, and she seemed lighter. “I’m sorry…it’s just that Rufus never gave me any reason to trust him if you know what I mean.”
“Then talk to him, but you can’t make me uncomfortable because ya’ll got a trust issue.”
She exhaled, walked up to me and put her arms around me. Her breasts smashed against mine and the hug felt fake. “You right.” She released me and looked down at the pan. “That’s smelling good already. Can’t wait to taste—”
Suddenly I heard screaming followed by loud dog barks outside of the house. When I rushed toward the window I saw Rufus being chased by three black Doberman Pinschers. “Open the fucking door!” he yelled when he spotted me looking out at him. “Now for they kill me!”
I quickly obeyed and he fell into the house, just as one of the dog’s noses got caught in the door trying to get inside. I slammed it so hard on the animal that it whined and back
ed away. The three of us rushed toward the window, Rufus on his knees and watched the dogs circle our porch before running off.
“What the fuck was that?” Jackie asked as Rufus crawled toward the sofa. Sitting on the floor, his back was against the front of the couch, a woman’s black leather purse clutched against his chest.
“I don’t know what the fuck’s up with them dogs.” His breaths were heavy and I could sense that he struggled to get himself under control.
“Sure it doesn’t have anything to do with that purse in your palm?” she continued. “You robbing women again?”
Robbing women? What was up with this man?
He looked down at it, as if he’d forgotten all about it. “What this?” he raised it in the air and I could tell it was expensive. “This mine.” He stood up, walked to his room and came back out empty handed. “Breakfast smells out of sight, cousin. What you cooking?”
I hated that shit but I had to play along.
Rolling my eyes I said, “Potatoes, eggs and bacon. Everything you asked for.”
“Well I can’t wait to—”
“I don’t like that shit,” Jackie continued, cutting him off. Her inability to let shit go was one of the things he hated about her. He told me himself. Either she was going to deal with his quirky moods or put him out because in his mind there weren’t a lot of options. “Where did them dogs come from?”
He exhaled. “They were with the lady I snatched the purse from.”
“Who snatches a purse from someone with big ass dogs?” she asked with wide eyes.
I wanted to know the answer too.
“Let it go, Jackie,” he walked around her, toward the refrigerator.
“I’m tired of letting shit go. You get to do whatever you want and who is left to clean things up? Me!” she pointed at herself. “That shit better not fall on my doorstep because you out of—”
He moved quickly again, like the time we were in the diner and he hit that man over the head with his own briefcase. Except now he gripped her neck so tightly I thought for sure he was about to kill her. He looked down at her, his eyes barely visible due to frowning. “I said…let…it…go.”