Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) (20 page)

L
oretha walked into the empty conference room carrying a large duffle bag containing a stack of handouts. A big part of Loretha’s work involved helping those involved in administering social services understand the tragedy of sexually exploited children.

She gave quarterly presentations to social workers, teachers and school staff, counselors and police officers. They were on the front lines and had the ability to reach a child before she became the prey of a pimp.

Loretha placed pamphlets about Harmony House in front of each seat around the U-shaped conference table. The first two attendees walked into the room and greeted her.

“Good morning,” Loretha said. “Thanks for coming.”

“I just wish you didn’t have to come talk to us about this,” one woman said. “Instead of getting better, the problem seems to be getting worse.”

That was so true. The number of children entering the sex trade was climbing at an alarming rate. Rescuing them was often a futile effort because there weren’t enough foster homes, group homes or juvenile facilities to house them once they’d escape from their pimps.

In another ten minutes, the conference room was full.

“Thanks for coming, everybody,” Loretha began. “You should feel free to call me whenever you have an emergency placement. And if I have an empty bed, it’s yours.

“One of the things I wanted to alert you about is a new method pimps are using to recruit girls. They’re using other minors to entice new girls into the sex industry.”

“They’ve always done that,” one woman said.

Loretha smiled. “Not like they’re doing it now. We’ve come across several cases where the pimp puts a girl on the track specifically so that she can get arrested and sent to a group home. Once she’s there, it’s her job to convince the most vulnerable girls to run away with her. The pimp pays the girl for every recruit she attracts and it places her at a higher level with the pimp. She’s also rewarded by no longer having to walk the track.”

“Good Lord,” said one of the women.

“It’s turning out to be a pretty effective recruiting tool.”

The room went silent and Loretha didn’t speak for a few moments, giving them time to swallow this information.

“We’re also seeing the creation of a trafficking circuit between L.A. and Oakland. One gang will kidnap a girl in L.A. and trade her for a girl snatched by a gang in Oakland. They’re even shipping girls down South to cities like Atlanta and Birmingham. Taking a girl out of state more effectively cuts her off from everyone she knows.”

“Are you saying different gangs are actually working together?” one woman asked.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“And don’t make the mistake of thinking that this can’t happen in your neighborhood. These guys are getting bolder and bolder. They’re snatching girls wherever they can find them, not just black and brown girls in the inner city. They’re even infiltrating schools in middle and upper-middle class neighborhoods.”

When the session ended sixty minutes later, Loretha hurriedly packed her things and rushed to her car. After driving about twenty minutes, Loretha parked near a freeway overpass, grabbed two plastic grocery bags from the front seat and exited the car. The bags held sandwiches, packaged food items, vitamins, a few toiletries and clothes. She walked several feet, then climbed a short incline underneath the freeway.

She passed two homeless men nodding off. One of the men’s eyes shot open and he growled at her.

“Leave me the hell alone!”

Loretha knew that she had to appear fearless. If they sensed that she was afraid, they’d be on her. But she didn’t have to pretend. She didn’t know why but she wasn’t afraid.

Loretha culled through the thick foliage until she spotted a familiar grocery cart tied with red ribbons and brimming with junk.

Good
. Rena was still here. She was never too far from her cart.

“Rena,” Loretha called out softly. “Are you here?”

Loretha heard a gentle rustling of the foliage and Rena stuck her head out of a large cardboard box. The woman wore a tattered hoodie that had originally been gray, but was now sooty black. Her face was ashen and her hair matted and bald in patches. The whites of her eyes were yellow.

“I brought you some stuff,” Loretha said, extending the bags in front of her with both hands.

Rena crawled forward on her hands and knees. She took the bag without standing up, then backed into her hiding place.

“You doing okay?” Loretha asked.

Rena nodded in quick successive movements as if she could not control her head.

Loretha had been delivering regular care packages to Rena for several months. She’d never once spoken.

“Okay, good. If you ever wanna come inside, I’ve got a room for you,” Loretha said. “My card with my number and address is inside the bag.”

She’d been repeating that offer for months with no response whatsoever from Rena. Loretha knew she would never take her up on it. She wasn’t even sure the woman understood her. Rena, who’d been beautiful and sexy and vibrant, had literally lost her mind after that single night with Demonic. What else could explain her desire to live on the street, pushing a grocery cart around for most of the day?

Too many times to count, Loretha had asked God to bring her back, but she no longer had any faith in that prayer.

Rena tore into the large bag of barbecue potato chips. Loretha knew from the old days that she loved them.

“I have to go, now,” Loretha said, swatting at a spider crawling up her arm. “I want you to call me if you need me.”

No response from Rena.

As Loretha backed down the hill, trying not to slide down to the street, she thought she heard something that sounded like words. Loretha turned back to Rena.

“Did you say something?” Loretha asked.

“Thank you,” Rena said hoarsely, flashing a toothless smile.

Joy filled Loretha up from the inside out. Maybe the Rena she’d known was still in there somewhere. She had to restrain herself from running over to hug the woman. That would only frighten her.

“You’re welcome,” Loretha said, her smile so wide it hurt. “You’re so very welcome.”

A
ngela stepped into the foyer of Harmony House and greeted Loretha with a hug.

“Is Peaches ready?”

Angela was pumped about her new role as Peaches’ mentor. She had a special evening planned for the girl.

“She’ll be down in a minute.” Loretha had an uncertain look on her face. “We need to talk first.”

Angela followed Loretha into her office where they sat down on a couch across from Loretha’s desk. “Is something wrong?”

“First, I want you to know that you’re about the
only
person I’d let one of my girls go on an outing with this soon. And second, I need to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Angela rolled her eyes. “I deal with these girls every day.”

“You deal with them as their lawyer, not as part of their lives. My girls are very fragile. Everybody in Peaches’ life who was supposed to protect her, let her down. Her parents left her when they died, her aunt verbally and emotionally abused her, her pimp beat her up. If you’re going to be a part of her life, you need to be there for the long haul. Through the good and the bad. And there’s going to be some bad. A lot of it.”

“I understand that. I’m committed. For the long haul.”

Loretha’s eyebrows arched with skepticism. “There’re going to be times when Peaches doesn’t act like a happy inquisitive child. She’s going to be a foul-mouthed half-woman. The connection to her pimp hasn’t been broken yet. She may—no, she probably will—go back to him at some point. And we have to be there for her when she returns to him a second time or a third time or more.”

“I understand,” Angela said. “But Peaches isn’t going back.”

Loretha gave her a cynical look.

“I’m going to be the one who helps this girl see that life can be different and that she has other options,” Angela promised.

“I’m going to hold you to that. The real reason I’m allowing this is to take her mind off the hearing tomorrow. It’s a scary thing to have to testify against your pimp. You’ll be there, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

Peaches bounded down the stairs in jeans and a T-shirt. Her bruises were covered with makeup. She was proudly sporting her new natural curls.

“How you like me now!” She did a model’s twirl. “My hair is crackalackin’ like a mug!”

Loretha turned to Angela and laughed. “I assume crackalackin’ is a good thing, but maybe you should translate for me.”

“Y’all is so lame,” Peaches said. “I had no idea I could get my hair curly like this. I’ma be looking diva-licious in court tomorrow.”

Loretha and Angela exchanged glances. They both knew Peaches wouldn’t be this excited when she actually had to confront her pimp.

“We’re going to see the new
Shrek
movie,” Peaches beamed. “At the Magic Johnson Theater.”

During the drive to the Crenshaw Plaza, nothing Angela did could make Peaches open up. So she decided not to push it. Loretha had warned her that it would take some time to build a true bond with the girl. Once the movie started, Peaches laughed loudly while munching on popcorn and Milk Duds. Later, at TGI Friday’s she finally began to talk in more than one-word sentences, but turned somber again once they’d finished dessert.

“What’s the matter?” Angela asked.

She shrugged. “When I do regular stuff like this, that’s when I really miss my mama and daddy.”

“That’s completely normal. My grandmother died a few years ago and I miss her too.”

“I wonder how my little brother’s doing?”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

Peaches wiped sweat from her water glass with her index finger. “When I ran away with Gerald.”

“You haven’t talked to him during all this time?”

“Nope. Gerald wouldn’t let me.” Peaches paused. “Can you take me to see him? He stays with my Aunt Gina now. They still live in our old house by the cemetery in Inglewood. It’s not that far from here.”

Angela could only imagine the happy memories the house held for her. Maybe a return visit would be a good thing.

“I’ll need to clear that with Loretha first.”

“Okay. Can you call her?”

Angela took out her smartphone and tried to reach Loretha, but she didn’t pick up.

“We don’t have to stay long,” Peaches begged. “I just want to say hi to my little brother. We haven’t seen each other in three years.”

Angela reasoned that it couldn’t be a bad thing for Peaches to connect with the one person in the world she truly cared about.

“Okay,” Angela finally said. “But we’re not going to stay long.”

Following Peaches’ directions, Angela drove the short distance to Regent Circle in Inglewood. She was surprised by the large, impressive homes on the quiet street lined with eucalyptus trees. Angela had expected to find a much different neighborhood, economically speaking. These homes had to be in the half-million-dollar range.

“It looks just the same as I remember,” Peaches gushed. “My daddy used to have us out here sweeping the driveway and cutting the grass every Saturday. I helped my daddy plant those bushes over there.”

Peaches still hadn’t made a move to get out of the car.

“If you’ve changed your mind, that’s fine,” Angela said gently.

“No, I still wanna go. I just wanted to look at the house.”

Peaches finally pushed the car door open and they walked together toward the front door. She timidly pressed the doorbell.

“Who is it?” a woman’s melodic voice called out.

Peaches wrung her hands. “It’s Peaches.” Her voice was much smaller now.

Seconds later, the door opened and a woman dressed in a gray pantsuit peered at them through a screen door. She was tall and thick with stiff-looking hair that was obviously a weave. Angela could see the family resemblance. The wide cheekbones, the long neck, the full lips.

“Peaches? Is that really you?” The woman leaned out of the door and pulled Peaches into a bear hug. “Girl, let me look at you! You’re about as tall as I am! You look just like your mama!”

Angela introduced herself to Aunt Gina and explained that they had just dropped by to say hello.

“So you’re wearin’ your hair natural now,” Aunt Gina said, reaching out to touch it.

Peaches looked down at her hands.

“It looks nice on her, doesn’t it?” Angela said.

“I’m not into all that nappy hair stuff,” Aunt Gina said, turning up her nose. Her hair looked as if she’d snatched it off a store mannequin. “As far as I’m concerned, nappy hair needs a perm or a straightening comb.”

Angela glanced over at Peaches. The happy kid she’d bonded with all afternoon was about to retreat into her shell.

“Is Damon here?” Peaches asked, never directly looking at her aunt.

“Yep. His lazy butt is in the backyard cutting the grass.” The woman walked into the kitchen and opened a back door. “Damon, you got some company,” she yelled.

Aunt Gina waited a beat and was about to call out again, when a lanky teenager lumbered into the kitchen. When his eyes landed on Peaches, they lit up.

“Hey, sis!” he said, running over to embrace her.

Peaches took a step back to get a better look at him.

“How did you get taller than me?” Peaches playfully punched him in the shoulder, then hugged him again.

Damon laughed.

“That boy is only fourteen years old and he’s already eating me out of house and home.” Aunt Gina smiled and tucked a swatch of her weave behind her right ear. “I hope you’re not trying to move back in here. We barely have enough room as it is. I’m working at L.A. Unified now. But my check can only go so far.”

Peaches looked down at the floor. “I ain’t trying to come back.”

“So where you stayin’?” Damon asked. “We have to hang out sometime.” His voice had that too-deep baritone of a teenage boy on his way to becoming a man.

“Uh…I live with a family in L.A.”

“Where in L.A.?” Aunt Gina asked.

“Near Crenshaw and Washington,” Angela said.

“Crenshaw and Washington? Is it safe over there?”

Probably safer than being here with you,”
Angela wanted to say.

“Damon, you need to finish getting that backyard done. Then I want you to sweep out the garage, mop the kitchen floor and clean the bathroom. And ladies, I hate to be rude, but I was on my way to a meeting at the church.”

Damon was hesitant to leave. “Will you call me?”

“I will,” Peaches promised. She hugged him again. “What’s your phone number?”

“I’ll give it to you,” Aunt Gina said before Damon could respond. “You need to get back to your chores.”

Damon reluctantly backed out of the room.

Angela threw her arm around Peaches’ shoulders. This time, Peaches didn’t flinch or pull away. “I guess we’ll be going then,” Angela said.

Aunt Gina darted across the room and opened the door. “Thanks for dropping by.”

They stepped across the threshold onto the porch and Aunt Gina followed them outside

Peaches finally made eye contact with her aunt for more than a split second. “Uh…can you give me Damon’s number?”

Aunt Gina scratched the back of her weave. “I don’t really know how to say this, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in contact with Damon.”

Heat stung Angela’s cheeks. “Why not?”

“I know what you been doing,” Aunt Gina said, lowering her voice to a sinister level. “One of my church members said she saw you out on Long Beach Boulevard in Compton prostituting yourself. I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to do. Is it true?”

Peaches turned away, her eyes saturated with shame.

“No, it’s not,” Angela said, before Peaches could respond.

Angela wanted to yell what Loretha had told them over breakfast at Denny’s.
Peaches is not a prostitute. She’s a sexually exploited child.
But she knew this callous woman wouldn’t get it.

“Let’s go.” Angela protectively wrapped her arm around Peaches as Aunt Gina trailed after them down the driveway.

“Sister Miller told me she saw it with her own eyes. My brother would turn over in his grave if he knew his only daughter was out there turning tricks.”

Angela wanted to cover Peaches’ ears. She also wanted to punch Aunt Gina in the mouth.

“Go to the car,” Angela told Peaches in a stern voice.

Peaches obediently ran off.

Angela turned back to Aunt Gina. “Maybe Peaches wouldn’t be in the situation she’s in if she’d gotten some support from you rather than criticism after she was gang raped.”

Aunt Gina pressed her hand flat against her chest. “Don’t you dare try to blame that girl’s bad choices on me! Peaches was always fast. I pray for that child every day.”

“You need to pray for your damn self!”

Aunt Gina recoiled, her back hunching like a snake ready to strike. “How dare you talk to me like that. You don’t even—”

“Hypocrites like you make me sick!”

Angela stalked down the driveway.

“You okay?” she asked, back in the car with Peaches.

The girl responded with a curt nod.

As Angela pulled away from the curb, she felt like kicking herself. They’d had a great day. Peaches had started opening up to her. No telling what kind of damage this visit had done.

“What kinda music you like?” Peaches asked five minutes later. She was smiling again, having buried her hurt, covering it up with a thick pretend shield.

“R&B and gospel. What about you?”

“I
like
everything, but I
love
me some Rihanna.” She gave the radio knob a spin, stopping when she came to a Kanye West song.

It didn’t seem right to just ignore her aunt’s cruelness.

“Peaches, your aunt was wrong to—”

“It don’t matter,” Peaches said cutting her off. “Like Gerald told me, I don’t need no family anyway.”