Abnormal Lives (35 page)

When the medical examiner informed him that Stefan had HIV, his heart almost stopped. Everything was his fault. He was the one who had left his son to fend for himself. He was the reason Stefan had allowed men to violate him for money.

Dennis couldn't conceive that no matter how tough things had gotten for Stefan, he had lived his life to the fullest. Regardless
of whatever happened in life, he'd made it his business to be happy.

Dennis looked through his photo album and found a picture of Stefan and Simone together as children. They both looked so happy. Stefan's death had to hit her as hard as it had hit him. They were born cousins but were more like siblings. Both of them had been abandoned by their parents. With a father like him and a mother like Tessa, they never stood a chance.

He was thankful that Simone was still alive; in a sad predicament but alive. After Mrs. Sandra told him Simone was incarcerated he vowed to do everything within his power to help Simone. He would be to her what he had never been to Stefan; a father. He would do everything in his power to get her off. He would call in favors and give up church members that were laundering money and involved in other shady activities. And when she came home, he would make sure that she lived out the remainder of her life as comfortably as possible.

31

A
ll Simone did was sleep and cry during the week that she spent in solitary confinement. She left her cell once to go to medical. While she waited to be called in the back to have her blood work done, she overheard the other women bragging about the different jails they had been in and how they wished they could be transferred to a particular jail instead of serving their time in the one that they were in. She thought jail was jail. She couldn't imagine how anyone could have a preference or could possibly wish to go anywhere but home. She could not wait until her preliminary hearing. She hoped Paris had called to find out what day she was to appear in court so he could come, find out how much her bond was, and then bail her out.

The first day of the second week of her stay, Simone lay in her bed staring at the wall. She wondered what time of day it was; the filth that covered the window in her cell prevented the sunlight from giving her a clue as to whether it was morning or night. She wouldn't know if it was morning until the lights came on or the deputy came around to announce chow.
This shit is torture,
she thought. To be confined so long she had no concept of time, to be fed things domestic animals would turn their noses up at, to consume fluid that smelled like juice but looked and tasted like water; it was inhumane. Was this the place she had heard so many people brag about going to? The same place they had said you
could grow accustomed to after a while. They had to be crazy or had not yet found anything to live for. Even if that were the case, how could anyone get used to such a place? It was a place that shattered hope and stunted spiritual and physical growth. It was one of those places that you would die just to leave.

“Simmons! Medical! Bring your things!” the deputy shouted, bringing Simone back into the moment.

Simone shoved her sheets and hygiene products down into her pillowcase, grabbed her mattress, and then waited by the door for the deputy to escort her.

Simone walked past the pregnant women lined up at the door, waiting to be escorted back to their tiers. She walked to the back and took a seat. She wondered would she ever have the opportunity for a life to be planted within her womb.

The doctor stood in front of Simone, looking down at the sheet of paper that he held in his hand. “Simmons, your blood tested positive for HIV.”

“HIV? How is that possible?” Simone asked as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I didn't have that shit before I got here.”

The doctor looked at Simone and sighed. “I'm going to start you on Combivir and Ziagen.”

A nurse walked in with two small cups; one with water and the other with several tablets. One of the tablets was familiar to Simone; it was yellow and had the same imprint as the prescription medication that she'd discovered in Stefan's gym bag. Her tears grew heavy as she struggled to swallow the tablets. Ever since Stefan had died, her life had seemed to get worse each day.

How could he do this to me
, she thought.
How could he be so careless?
They'd shared the same clients and often had unprotected sex with them. How could he do her like that? He was the only one who gave a damn about her and if that wasn't true, then no
one did. He was always there for her. He protected her. But why didn't he protect her from himself?

The nurses in the back observed Simone crying. Simone could hear them talking amongst themselves.

“I feel so sorry for her,” one of the nurses said.

The other nurse rolled her eyes. “I don't. That's what happens when you run around selling your ass.”

Simone held her head down as she was escorted to the medical tier. She felt so low; there was no need for the deputy to unlock the door so she could get in. She could've crawled under the door and gotten in all by herself. Simone didn't bother to look around to see the faces of those that sat in the dayroom as she made her way to her cell. Hopefully, she wouldn't get to know anyone. She would go to sleep and never wake up. Simone threw her mattress on the bottom bunk and then lay down and cried until she fell asleep. She slept through lunch, dinner, and breakfast the next morning.

Simone was awakened by her cellmate who brought a letter in the room that was addressed from Stefan's father. She could feel photos in the envelope as she opened it.

Simone,

I'm sorry that you and Stefan had to live the way you did. I only wish that I had been there for the both of you when your grandmother died so you and Stefan wouldn't have had to raise yourselves. I wish that I would've stayed in Stefan's life in the first place. Maybe I would still have a wife and a son. I can't change what happened and I will never have the opportunity to make things right with Stefan, but I can make things right with you.

I'll be at your hearing next week and if they give you a bond, I'll post your bail. Your mother has moved back into your grandmother's house.
You know your grandmother left that house to her? You can stay with me until this whole thing is over with and you get back on your feet.

Paul gave your money to Sandra. I'll use that to post your bond. If it's not enough, we can use some of the other money he left you. He gave Sandra ten thousand dollars today. He said you won the jackpot and said you'd split the money with him. He said the ten thousand is your cut. He told Sandra he was moving to New Orleans and to tell you good luck and that he found his jewelry under your mattress.

Well, I'll see you soon. Keep your head up, baby girl.

Love,

Uncle Dennis

Simone sat up on her bunk.
Muthafucka,
Simone thought.
I can't believe he stole my DVD. Mister “money ain't everything.”
Simone wanted to cry but thought she didn't have enough fluid in her body to shed another tear. She looked at the pictures that Stefan's father had sent her. She and Stefan were toddlers, dressed up and holding hands with their bushy hair all over their heads. They were smiling and staring wide-eyed into the camera. She looked at the next picture. It was Stefan lying in his coffin, wearing a suit and tie. Simone covered her mouth.
He's dead; I can't believe he's really dead.

“Ladies, chow!” the duty yelled as she walked past the tier.

Simone rushed to the window and screamed for the deputy.

“Deputy, I can't stay here; I want to die! I want to kill myself!”

32

T
wo different days, one day at dawn and the next at dusk, Kenneth, Jamal, and Jana waited outside of Simone and Stefan's house in the 2003 Buick they'd paid ten thousand dollars for from some old fellow they'd run across in front of his house taking groceries out the trunk of his car. They had been in Richmond for five days now, staying at a rinky-dink hotel. They could barely sleep while they were there. There was something about the bed, the sheets, the detergent used to wash the sheets, or maybe mites. Whatever it was, it made them itch.

This was the third day they had staked out the house, waiting to see Stefan, Simone, or Paris; preferably all three of them. Nightfall slowly approached. Kenneth sat in the car, slurping the last of his soda out of his cup. He was becoming agitated. This was the
last
day he was coming back to stake out the house and something had to give.

Jamal sat in the passenger side seat with his eyes closed. He was starting to doubt that anyone lived in the house.
This has been a fucking waste,
Jamal thought.
All the time we spent trying to hunt their asses down, we could've made up for what they stole and then some.

Jamal looked at Kenneth out the corner of his eye and huffed. He closed his eyes again. The image he got of Kenneth stuck with him; red eyes, flared nostrils, sweat running down his face. Kenneth was intent on killing. He was psyched up for it, just
itching to tear flesh apart like a rabid animal. Jamal shook his head.
This nigga needs to lay off the coke. That shit's fucking with his brain.

Jana sat in the back seat with a book in her lap, pretending to read when she had really spent the few hours they had been there praying that they had the wrong house, that Simone didn't live there and if she did, that that day she would have a revelation and decide she was too young to stay cooped up in such a small city and decide she wanted to travel and see the world. Then she would leave town, not worrying about packing her belongings, and she would never return. Jana didn't care what happened to Stefan or Paris, but there was something so naïve, so innocent about Simone that made Jana want to protect her and that made Jana love her. But she wasn't about to put her life on the line for Simone. Kenneth had that look in his eyes and whenever he had that look, there was no reasoning with him. He would kill anyone who stood in his way. That's why there used to be six of them and now there were only three. Jana wasn't about to try her hand. Then there would just be two of them; Kenneth and Jamal. And she guessed after Kenneth eventually killed Jamal, he would go out on a limb and live out the rest of his life as a serial killer.