Charge It To The Game (2 page)

The horrific scene made a sudden queasiness ripple in my stomach. The dinner that I had eaten earlier was trying to make an exit. I was trying to keep it in but started to gag. I ain‘t mean to make any noise, it just came out. Smoke heard me and he quickly took his tongue out of Skeets‘ mouth, pushed him away and looked at me. I panicked and tried to run, but my eyes had already connected with Smoke‘s and the hate in his bloody red eyes had paralyzed me. Finally, he nodded to Skeet and whispered, ―Oh, shit, Storm.‖ His words were magical because in a quickness they moved both of my feet and I ran as fast as I could right back into my room.

I sat on the radiator staring at the darkness of the alleyway wondering what I should do. Then, footsteps interrupted my thoughts. I started to count each one as they walked pass my bedroom and exited the apartment. Suddenly, I heard Smoke walking then he stopped at my doorway. Everything felt as if it were going in slow motion. My heart started beating so fast. I knew Smoke was gonna spank the living shit out of me for snooping around. Aunt Hope had always told me I was too nosey for my own good and I needed to stay out of grown folks business. Did I listen? No, me and my nosey ass self had to go searching for trouble. And I wasn‘t happy until I saw Smoke and his friends fucking.

All I could think to do was put on layers of clothing, in an attempt to minimize the pain. I grabbed my corduroy pants and put them on, then my Michael Jordan hooded sweatshirt. I looked around my room hoping an escape would miraculously appear. Nothing.

Finally, the door opened and I saw Smoke‘s shadow and I quickly felt his anger. I cleared my thought. ―I‘m… I‘m sorry,‖ I stammered while pushing the dangling strands of hair away from my face. ―I‘m sorry Smoke. I ain‘t mean to be minding your business. I was hungry and I just wanted to go…I mean I was getting-‖

Smoke slowly shut and locked the door. Then he walked over to me, covered my mouth and stared down at me with a curious look. For some reason, I began to feel ashamed…knowing what I had witnessed. I looked away, avoiding eye contact.
Aunt Hope, please come home
. Aunt Hope wasn‘t expected home for another forty-five minutes, and time didn‘t show any mercy, it continued crawling on broken legs.

―Take off your clothes, Storm,‖ Smoke demanded in a southern drawl.

―Why?‖ I asked wiping away the warm tears off of my cheeks. Then I started backing away from him, using my hands to guide me around the tiny dark room. I hoped I would get lucky and talk him out of it. ―I said I‘m sorry Smoke. I ain‘t gonna tell…I promise you. You got my word, I ain‘t gonna say nothing. Just forget I saw you. Okay? That‘s all. All right, Smoke?‖

In a flash, Smoke reached, grabbed me by my sweatshirt and threw me on my bed. The sounds of the mattress springs echoed off the quiet walls. ―I ain‘t gonna tell your ass again. Take off your fuckin‘ clothes or I‘m gonna take them off
for
you.‖

―Don‘t spank me,‖ I pleaded. Suddenly the look in his eyes told me I was about to get more than a spanking. ―Pleeaaaaase, Smoke. No.‖

Smoke started ripping my pants off. I struggled and wiggled to get away from him. But I couldn‘t beat his quickness or strength. He pulled me back toward him. With one hand he covered my mouth, and the other hand he unzipped his pants. Then an awful smell of musk and funk was immediately released. I started to gag. But I had no time to get ill, I had to stop Smoke. I punched him in his back, and dug my nails in his skin. Then with all of my strength I pushed down on his shoulder blades. All of my attempts to free myself from his vicious hold were futile.

Please God stop him.
I thought as I moved my head from side-to-side.
Please God don’t let him put that thing in me.

―If you promise to be quiet I‘ll let you go. I‘m just gonna show you something. I ain‘t gonna hurt you. Okay? You promise you‘ll be quiet?‖

I nervously shook my head yes.
Smoke moved his stiff member closer to my private. ―Now, I‘m telling you…if you scream, I‘ma put it in. I‘m ‗bout to take my hand off. If you say one fuckin‘ word, I‘m gonna push it in. You ready?‖
―Umm hmm.‖
Smoke lifted his fingers, one by one. Then he lifted his palm off of my lips. I wanted to scream for help. However, the thickness and the heat penetrating from his penis reminded me of his earlier warning. I decided against it.
―Why you doin‘ this to me?‖ I cried. Even at my

young age, I always knew that Smoke was in moral prison, yet I never could have imagined him doing this to me.

Without saying a word, Smoke smacked me. My face was stinging then it became numb. ―Didn‘t I tell you not to open up your mouth? You such a gotdamn actress! You don‘t‘ listen…do you? Huh? That‘s your damn problem…so hardheaded. Now see what you done made me do.‖

I knew I had nothing else to lose. No matter whether I was quiet or not, Smoke was going to rape me. I pleaded with him once more. ―Why? But I‘m a little girl.‖ I reminded him in a whisper.

Smoke ignored me. He grabbed my hands and without warning or pity he furiously rammed himself in my frail body. My entire body was burning in pain. I don‘t know how, but Smoke was enjoying it.

―God, pleeeeeze make him stop! Make him stop!‖ Fear and anger had begun to collide.
―Don‘t you know God don‘t owe you nothin‘, honey,‖ Smoke angrily retorted.

Despite my pleas, God didn‘t intervene. Before Momma had slid into darkness, she would take me to church. I use to love to go because I loved the singing, and I loved seeing everybody so happy. I remember Momma would get so happy she would dance and shout all over the church and talk in a different language. One time I asked her what she was doing and she said that when she did that she was slain in the Spirit and talking to the Lord. Then it occurred to me why God hadn‘t stopped Smoke yet. He couldn‘t hear me. So I started talking like Momma did when she spoke to God. But He didn‘t hear that either because the more I spoke, the harder Smoke pounded on my raw and dry pussy.

Chapter 2

Smoke didn‘ t take everything from me that night. I still managed to own a tiny piece of joy. Sometimes I had to dig deep to find it.

Although Smoke wore the evidence that proved he had violated me, Aunt Hope still refused to believe it. She couldn‘t face what Smoke did to me because accepting it would mean that her man wasn‘t who she thought he was. Instead of confronting the obvious she ignored it and she worked even harder to please Smoke. She cooked, cleaned, worked, even ironed his draws and jumped whenever he coughed.

No matter how many times Aunt Hope changed her hair dos, how much weight so lost on Weight Watchers, the Bahamian Diet or Slim Fast, or how good she cooked or screwed Smoke, he was still the same sorry ass loser and her conscious wouldn‘t let

her forget or ignore the truth. For almost two years, she was in a constant battle of denying or accepting. Eventually, denying it ate her away and left her with a crumbled and decaying soul.

―Storm,‖ Aunt Hope yelled from the kitchen. ―Didn‘t I tell you to clean up the damn kitchen?‖
―I‘m coming,‖ I answered sleepily. ―Gimme five minutes.‖

―Five minutes? No. Bring your ass here right now…right this second, Storm! I‘m tired of repeating myself over and over again with you.‖

I sucked my teeth and released a heavy sigh. ―But I‘m
tired.‖
―And don‘t be in there talkin‘ under your breath either. Don‘t let me have to come in there and smack the shit out of yourass.‖
What she got bionic ears now?
―I ain‘t say nothing,‖ I answered back.
―Just get your ass in here and clean this kitchen!‖
I got up from the bed and put my slippers on
. I gotta make a move soon,
I thought.

* * *

― You can throw them pots and pans around all you want but you betta not break a fuckin‘ thing or it‘s gonna me and you tonight.‖

―It‘s me and you every night,‖ I mumbled. Aunt Hope put her crack pipe down; got up from the sofa and walked into the kitchen. ―What you just say?‖

―Nothing,‖ I answered back nervously.
―No, bitch,‖ Aunt Hope began ramming her index finger on my temple. You said something…I‘m tired of your ass thinking you grown. There is only one queen in this fuckin‘ palace and that‘s me! You think you so bad then you know what you can do…you can get the hell out my fuckin‘ house. That‘s what!‖
I had grown tired of the daily threats and tired of screwing nasty old men to support her and Smoke‘s crack habit but it wasn‘t time to leave yet. I was only thirteen years old and fucking for free. I had to plan.

―I‘m sorry,‖ I lied hesitantly. It wasn‘t because I didn‘t know how to lie. It was what followed after it.

―You damn right you sorry…a sorry lazy ass. That‘s what you are. No wonder Lisa left you. You drove the poor woman crazy. She was fine before she had you. Your momma was beautiful
and
smart ass shit. Yes she was. I mean how many black woman morticians you know? None. That‘s how many. She was all of that…a good Christian woman with a beautiful future ahead of her. ‗Til she met your sorry ass father and that was all she wrote. She got knocked up with you and when you was born all you did was cry. Tank had to feed her drugs to keep the poor woman from goin‘ crazy.

―You cried for two years straight. You know that? I ain‘ t never seen a baby like you in my life…cry, cry, cry. That‘s all you did.‖ Aunt Hope walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa. She had told me this story more times than I could remember. Yet every time Aunt Hope told it, the words spoke to my heart as if it were the very first time. Every since I told her that Smoke had raped me, Aunt Hope became a stranger to me. Smoke acted like a bitch, and I was the enemy to them both.

Aunt Hope took the plastic bag off of her hair and unbuttoned her jeans. ―Smoke did I ever tell you, Storm cried so much I wouldn‘t even shake a man‘s
hand
…too scared I would get pregnant and end up having a child like Storm. You know that‘s why I ain‘t never have no kids…because of Storm.‖ They both laughed. Aunt Hope picked up the lighter and began smoking.

The phone began to ring.
―Storm answer the phone! I don‘t understand why you gotta let it ring four or five times before you pick it up anyway. Any other

kid would be happy and running to answer the phone.‖ ―Hello. Yes, hold on.‖ My palms instantly became sweaty. Rells was a drug kingpin. When Aunt Hope and Smoke ran up their tab

and didn‘t have the money to pay it off they offered Rells free reign of my body. I turned my attention to Aunt

Hope. ―It‘s Rells.‖
―Rells?‖ Aunt Hope asked.
―Yes,‖ I answered handing her the telephone. Aunt Hope covered the mouthpiece and whispered.

―You know what he probably calling for…so go on and get yourself ready. ‗Cause I ain‘t got no money.‖
―But…but, I‘m tired and I got a test tomorrow.‖ ―No buts,‖ she snapped. ―Hand me that phone and go on and get out my face.‖
* * *

I knew it was time to plan my escape from hell. The flicker of joy I had managed to keep had allowed me to continue daydreaming about one day being a famous singer…the next Monica. The longer I stayed there, the longer it would take me to become a star.

There was one thing that Smoke, Bill, Dollar Bill, Mousie, Rells and the rest of the men I was forced to have sex with had in common...they never looked me in the eye. Deep down inside they were just like the boys my age…insecure but always trying to act powerful. They enjoyed my fear. The more I cried, the harder they would hump on me. If there was anything I had learned lately from Aunt Hope was she knew how to make you feel ashamed and powerless. If I tried to stand up for myself, she would bring me right down with her hurtful words and attack on Momma.

I had a plan, this time when Rells humped on me, I humped back. He stopped immediately. Then he slighted lifted himself off of me and looked me in the eyes. I put my hands on his butt, pulled him back toward me, and slowly moved again…this time I moaned. With everything in me, I pretended to enjoy the thickness of the unwanted flesh that was inside of me. Then I tightly closed my eyes and fantasized about LL Cool J. I opened my legs as wide as I could, then I began to sing his name, ―Rellllls.‖ Without saying a word, Rells abruptly withdrew his shriveled penis out of me; pulled up his draws, and then his sweatpants. When Rells reached the door; he dug in his pocket took something out and threw it on top of the milk crate.

I got up; picked up the crisped $50 dollar bill and smiled.
I had messed up his head and
finally
got paid.
Chapter 3

Winter hung around longer than it should have. It was April 1
^st
and three inches of snow had fallen on the city during the night.

The good thing about the winter time was it was easy to hide stolen goods. I could easily stuff a coat inside
my
coat if I wanted to. Selling coats and clothes always brought me quick cash. However, with spring around the corner, I knew I had to come up with another way to stash clothes.

After my initiation with Rells, I realized there was money to be made selling my goodies. In order to look the part, I had to have the clothes and the cosmetics. I started with helping myself to Revlon‘s make up, and Exclamation perfume at Duane Reade‘s. I would use my bus pass and take the B52 to downtown Brooklyn

and go shopping. I would always make sure to leave with a paid item -- even if it were only a pack of Big Red chewing gum.

To my surprise, boosting was easy and I never got caught. By the time, I was fourteen I started ―shopping‖ in Sears, then I graduated to Macy‘s. Observation was the best teacher. I would browse around the store until I found a seasoned booster. Then I would watch them go behind the racks, out of the view of the big black ball. There they would bite the alarms off. I tried it and got it right the very first time.

It was important that I looked the part in whatever role I was in. Whether it was to sell the goods or wear the goods that I stole. I was driven and acted the part well.

Money was my sole motivation, because having it was the only way I could escape the two occupants that ran fiery hell on Putnam Street -- Aunt Hope and Smoke. Every dollar I earned, I secretly kept from Aunt Hope and saved for my emancipation. I made a vow to myself that by the time I was seventeen, I would be gone from there and living on my own.