A Street Girl Named Desire: A Novel (32 page)

Desire was a nervous wreck as she waited outside Mrs. Avery's office.

When Mrs. Avery finally arrived, after making a brief statement to the police and filling out an incident report, she gestured for Desire to enter her office. Desire didn't know whether to sit or to stand at attention. She decided to sit. But when Mrs. Avery slammed the door closed, Desire jumped to her feet.

“I'm not going to waste any of your time, Ms. Vera, so I'll just get down to business,” Mrs. Avery began. “I'm going to make a recommendation that you be asked to leave the program. Like I told you from day one, this program doesn't necessarily have revolving doors. For every one person that comes here, there are twenty more people waiting in line to get in, people who really want to be clean. You are simply unable to be honest with yourself. You fraternized with somebody who was obviously not a good influence. Then you interfered with our efforts to keep the peace here. Far as I'm concerned, you obstructed justice. The whole time you've been here, you've skated through this program without saying so much as a word about who you are or about
your past. I truly wish you well in your future endeavors, Ms. Vera, and I really hope you find what it is you're looking for, but we cannot help you. Now leave.”

Mrs. Avery turned in her swivel chair toward the computer, to close out Desire's case file. Desire stood paralyzed, her mind racing, wondering what her future would look like. With one last glance at Mrs. Avery, she forced herself to move. As she approached the office door, she again froze.

“I ain't got nowhere to go, Mrs. Avery,” she cried. “I can't leave. I really, really need help!”

Mrs. Avery seemed unmoved by Desire's plea, simply turning her head. Broken, tears fell heavily from Desire's eyes.

Desire stared at Mrs. Avery with malice. “Well, fuck you and this fucked-up program, too, you heartless bitch!” Desire turned on her heels and stormed out of the office slamming the door violently behind her. Desire's mind raced a thousand miles an hour as she headed toward the steps, but suddenly she stopped in her tracks. She began to break down and cry as she used the wall for support. She turned and looked toward Mrs. Avery's door through her tears and grew angrier. “
No
,” Desire thought, “
I'm not letting her get off that easy.
” She gritted her teeth and pushed herself off the wall and scurried back to Mrs. Avery's office. When she opened the door, it was as if Mrs. Avery was expecting her as she sat at her desk eyeing her smugly. Her arrogance infuriated Desire even more as she readied herself to tear into her, but at once she lost her bluster. Desire stood speechless; her mouth moved, but not a word came out. She trembled as she finally found the words. “Why did God do this to me, Mrs. Avery?” Desire cried, searching the woman's face for answers. “All my life I
was walked on and beat up on, Mrs. Avery. Why they always doing that to me?” Desire struggled for the words. “Why me, Mrs. Avery? Why me? Why me? Why me?” Desire asked the question over and over as she continued crying.

Mrs. Avery stood up, walked toward Desire and embraced her. “I don't know, but everything will be okay if you keep opening up like that.”

Desire pulled back and pleaded, “Mrs. Avery, I don't want to go back out there. I'm scared and I need help. I'm sorry for everything I said to you.” Mrs. Avery assured her that it was okay, and they embraced again. Desire pulled back in desperation. “That means I can stay?”

Mrs. Avery smiled and nodded. “Yes, you can stay. But…,” she added quickly, locking eyes with Desire, “under strict stipulations.”

The counselor told Desire to sit down, and walked back to her desk and began writing in a notepad. When she finished, she handed the pad to Desire.

“This is your contract. Read it aloud, then sign it,” Mrs. Avery ordered.

Desire spoke slowly and softly, concentrating on each and every word: “I, Desiree Vera, promise from this day forth that I will participate in all groups, by sharing and partaking in all discussions and meetings. I will sit up in front at all times, and answer all questions if called upon. I will also meet with Mrs. Avery one hour each day, during two o'clock free time Monday through Friday, to have intense therapy. An infraction to any of the above will be considered a violation to this contract, resulting in immediate expulsion from this program.”

D
uring Desire's first week of probation, she participated in all group meetings, all discussions. The one-on-one therapy with Mrs. Avery started off slow. One day Desire reached Mrs. Avery's office early, before the counselor had arrived. Desire was humming and singing her mother's song, when she noticed Mrs. Avery standing in the doorway. Desire had not sung that song for years, but as she was opening up about her past, many memories—good and bad—were coming back to her. When Mrs. Avery entered the room, Desire ceased singing the song. Mrs. Avery walked toward her desk and gave Desire a rare smile.

“Ms. Vera, I didn't know you had such a beautiful voice.” Desire eyed the ground, a little embarrassed.

“Oh, it's nothing, I just sing sometimes when I'm bored.” “What is the name of the song you were singing?” “I don't know, it was just a song my mother sang to me when I was little,” replied Desire.

“I thought you said you never met your mother?” “Can we talk about this some other time, Mrs. Avery? I don't feel like talking about it right now.”

Mrs. Avery changed the subject and went on with their therapy for that day. At the end of the hour, just as Desire was heading out the door, Mrs. Avery explained that she was taking the liberty of placing Desire in a mandatory social group. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a piece of paper, wrote down Desire's name and signed her own. Desire had to join the choir, which met twice a week.

The Visions Rehabilitation Choir was known throughout the community for their uplifting praise in song. The fifty or so members performed weekly at a community church. People from all over the world came to Harlem to hear them sing. All of the members were former addicts. They delivered an inspiring message through their own personal testimony on how God pulled them up out of their circumstances and saved them. Each week, Mrs. Avery selected two members, usually senior members, to give their testimony before the audience, followed by a song of their choice.

When Desire first entered the choir room, the members were already split into three sections. Mrs. Avery was standing in the middle, directing them.

“This way, Ms. Vera,” Mrs. Avery said, pointing to a place near where she stood.

“Do you know ‘The Lamb of God’?”

Desire nodded.

Mrs. Avery walked over to the pianist and whispered in his ear. He began playing. Desire hadn't sung in over two years. Her hands began to perspire as she looked around at all the choir members, who were staring at her. She decided to close her eyes, block everything out and concentrate on the music. She let the music take over and began singing. As if Desire had never left Bethel A.M.E. Church, or as if second nature had kicked in, she became engulfed with the Holy Ghost. She belted out the song, sending chills down the spines of every member in the room. The audience applauded, praised and stomped their feet at her rendition. At the end of the song, as if she were in a trance, Desire slowly opened her eyes and with surprise watched the room go wild for her. She glanced over at Mrs. Avery, who was clapping too.

During weekly rehearsals, Desire couldn't be happier as she reconnected with God through the gospel. The more she rehearsed, the more it reminded her of the days she spent in church with Hattie Mae and her sister, Tiah. Tiah and Carvelas continued to visit, filling Desire with hope as they described the three-story building they had purchased in the Bronx; Tiah had the top floor, Desire and Carvelas would have the second and they were searching for tenants for the first. Over the next few weeks, Desire and Mrs. Avery grew closer as Desire finally began telling her bits and pieces of her past. The more comfortable she became, the more she opened up. She even told Mrs. Avery her real name and what she used to do for a living.

In one session, as Desire looked at Mrs. Avery, she could have sworn that she saw a tear in the counselor's eye. Desire took a deep breath. She couldn't imagine what she had told Mrs. Avery that would make her so emotional.

Mrs. Avery approached Desire, caressed her hand and said, “I'm proud of you. I'm so proud of you. But you can't stop freeing yourself. I want you to give your testimony in church tomorrow.”

“Do you think I can invite some people, Mrs. Avery? Please?”

Mrs. Avery paused a moment and then submitted. “Sure.”

When Desire and the rest of the choir came out of the dressing room, the auditorium was already filled to capacity. Dressed in matching burgundy and gold uniform gowns, the choir approached the pulpit. As they settled onstage, Desire scanned the audience. She smiled when she saw Tiah in the front row. Her smile widened when she saw, seated right next to her sister, Chanel. And just as she had begged Mrs. Avery to make it happen, Carvelas was seated at the piano. The only person missing was Hattie Mae.

The reverend stood behind the podium and welcomed all those in attendance. After a brief, fiery sermon, he introduced the Visions Rehabilitation Choir. Mrs. Avery stood up, centered herself in the middle of the choir and lifted her hands to cue the song. The performance was jubilant, and the entire room began to sing along. At the end of the song, the audience gave a rousing applause.

Mrs. Avery took the microphone and set it in the middle of
the aisle. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen, my name is Mrs. Avery, and I am the choir director of Visions Rehabilitation Choir.” They responded with loud applause. She nodded and smiled, waiting until they finished. “Thank you, thank you. This portion of the program will focus on two of our members. I selected them to share a testimony of their life and how they overcame their circumstances. We do this for two reasons: to show you that no matter what happens in one's life, no matter what you go through, no matter how hard life gets, you can call on God. Amen. To see you through it no matter what. The second reason is, to purge oneself of all the pain, shame and secrets that can weigh you down. It's called ‘freeing ourselves.’ ”

Mrs. Avery put the microphone back in the stand and returned to her place with the choir. She lifted both arms and the choir rose to their feet in unison. Carvelas started playing softly. Desire stepped forward, out in front of the choir. She walked nervously toward the center aisle, where the microphone stood. Desire scanned the hundreds of eyes upon her. She closed her eyes and asked God to give her strength, or a sign that she could do this. When she opened them, Carvelas had stopped playing and came to stand beside her. Suddenly all her fears and uncertainties faded away. She turned toward Mrs. Avery and smiled. Desire surveyed the crowd once again, and the words just suddenly came out.

“Hello, everybody. Please forgive me if I appear to be a little nervous, but I haven't been to church in a while. I'm not the kind of person to go around quoting scriptures from the Bible, but I find this one almost fitting. ‘As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he.’ Well, ladies and gentleman, I'm here to testify to you today
that my entire life I had lies in my heart, so I became a liar. My name is not Desiree Vera. It is Desire Evans, and I'm the former lead singer of a group called Desire, Cream, and Dream. As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. I had greed and envy in my heart. I've sold records and become famous, but today I am a homeless recovering drug addict who is HIV positive. I've been trapped all my life because I was a street girl and didn't want to accept who and what I was and covered it up with material things to be the person others wanted me to be. See, I was born in the street—and when I say ‘born in the street,’ I mean just that. My mother, who I never knew, was also a junkie, and she gave birth to me prematurely, right on 127th Street, on the sidewalk. She dragged me by her umbilical cord through the snow. I don't want to bad-mouth the woman who was my mother, because before I came to Visions I was exactly where she was, and now I understand. And I don't want to turn this into a pity party, so please, if you don't mind, lift your heads and help me free myself. The only thing I really remember about my mother was her voice as she sang a gospel song on an old cassette tape. I played that tape every night before I went to sleep, until it was embedded in my mind. Would y'all like to hear it?”