Crackhead II: A Novel (23 page)

Thursday and Friday, Laci and her mother hung out just like best friends. Just as Margaret had promised, she contacted Dr. Stevens. His schedule was booked, but he told her that he could fit Laci in early Saturday morning.

Laci sat inside Dr. Stevens’s office updating her patient information form. While she read over the form, her eyes stopped on the section that indicated listing any drug use.
If he knows about my addiction, I know he won’t give me anything,
Laci thought. She wasn’t taking that chance, so she checked “no.”

As Laci sat and thought about how things were turning out for her, she thought about Dink. Being away from him, she missed him and wanted to talk to him. Hearing his voice every day on her mom’s answering machine, wanting to talk to her, let her know that he cared.

“Miss Johnson,” a nurse called, snapping Laci out of her thoughts. “Follow me, please.”

The nurse led Laci to an exam room. After she took Laci’s vitals, she handed her a paper gown. “Please undress, cover your bottom with this and top with this, and the doctor will be with you shortly.”

Within fifteen minutes, the doctor arrived.

“Laci,” he spoke. He extended his hand for a handshake. “How can I help you today?”

“Hi, Dr. Stevens. I’m not sure what’s wrong. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. All I want to do is sleep. I also have a lot of mood swings.”

Dr. Stevens looked over Laci’s history. “Hmm . . . you’re a full-time student?”

“Yes.”

“How many hours do you take?”

“Eighteen.”

The doctor let out a deep sigh. “That’s certainly enough to make you feel the way you do, young lady,” he confirmed.

Laci nodded.

“Let’s see,” he said as he read over her medical profile. “Is there any history of heart disease, stroke, or cancer in your family?”

“No.”

“Any history of depression?”

“No.”

“Have you ever been addicted to any type of narcotics?”

Laci paused momentarily. “No.”

“When was the last time you had a physical?”

“Um . . . a couple of months ago, I think,” Laci told him.

The doctor finished writing his notes, then took the stethoscope from around his neck and placed the earpieces into his ears. He listened to Laci’s heart and lungs.

“Please swallow for me,” he told her with his fingers lightly on her throat.

Dr. Stevens made a notation on Laci’s chart.

“What did you just do?” Laci inquired.

“I was checking your thyroid. If your thyroid function is off, you could experience irritability or restlessness. Please lie back for me.” Dr. Stevens began to feel her abdomen and performed a quick vaginal exam.

“Umm . . . there’s a little discharge,” he told her as he took the big white Q-tip out of her vagina and slid it across a small, thin lab slide. After he was done with the exam, he helped Laci sit up and called for his nurse, who arrived within seconds.

“I need you to do a full lab workup on Miss Johnson,” he told her. “Afterward, can you run everything to the lab and have them rush it through?”

“Sure thing, doc.”

The nurse took urine and blood from Laci.

“It’ll take about thirty to forty minutes for your results to come back, Miss Johnson,” the nurse said. “You can get dressed and wait out in the waiting room.”

“Okay, thank you.” Laci got dressed and went back out to the waiting room. Rummaging through the latest
Essence
and
Ebony
magazines, fatigue came over her and she dozed off.

“Excuse me . . . Miss Johnson . . . Miss Johnson . . .” The nurse gently nudged her. Laci looked at her watch. She had been asleep for almost an hour. “The doctor will see you now.”

Laci got up and rubbed her eyes. She followed the nurse into Dr. Stevens’s office.

“Miss Johnson,” the doctor spoke, “please have a seat.” Laci sat down. “Your lab results are back.”

“Okay, and . . .” Laci said with hesitation.

“Looks like you’re pregnant. That explains the mood swings and restlessness.”

“Pregnant?” Laci yelled. Her heart dropped. “Pregnant? NO way!” Laci had never thought of the obvious, but when she thought back to the night she lost her virginity and all the other times she used her pussy as compensation for crack, pregnancy was certainly a possibility. She was so high most of the time, condom use wasn’t even a discussion, and Lord only knew who or what ran up in her.

“I take it that this is not a good thing for you?”

Laci cut her eyes at him and remained silent. The doctor took that as his cue to move on.

“You also have BV.”

“BV? What’s that?”

“Bacterial vaginosis. It’s actually a pretty common vaginal infection that women get. When was your last period, Laci?”

Laci got quiet. She couldn’t remember. “I’m . . . I’m not sure,” she replied truthfully. “I’ve had so many things going on.”

“That’s fine,” Dr. Stevens told her. “Here, let me give you the name of another physician in the clinic who deals with pregnancies. I’m an internist, not an OB/GYN.” Dr. Stevens wrote down a name on his prescription pad. “Before you leave, schedule a follow-up appointment with her within a week. You need to have an ultrasound to determine just how far along you are and start prenatal care right away.”

“Dr. Stevens . . .” Laci said in a soft voice.

“Yes, Laci?”

“What if I don’t want the baby?” She stared the doctor in his eye.

“I understand,” he told her. “There are several clinics in the city that perform terminations as well as provide support for alternative options. I’ll write down the numbers for you too.”

Laci left the clinic in a daze. She got in her mother’s white 1989 Mercedes-Benz 560 Series and drove. The more she thought about her situation, the more and more pissed she became. Instead of going in the direction of Riverdale, she headed to the South Bronx. It was still daytime, so she felt safe. As Laci drove along the streets people ogled the expensive machinery, and the street hustlers called out for her to pull over. Laci wore her long curly hair down and free-flowing. Along with a pair of women’s Ray-Ban shades, she had a nice shade of soft pink Revlon lip gloss on her lips. From what they saw, she was fine and they wanted to get to know her.

“AYE, Y’ALL,” DRAKE
said to Smurf and Chunky. “Y’all see that chick that just left outta here in that fly-ass 5 Series?”

“Yea . . . yea . . . yeah,” Chunky spat out hard, still looking in the direction the car was driving. “She was fly, wasn’t she?”

Smurf saw her momentarily but he was preoccupied by LaQuan, who was trying to get him to slide through her grandmother’s again so she could get some more dick.

“That looked like that ho that was on that tape.”

Smurf’s ears caught the conversation. “Who you talkin ’bout, man?”

“That light-skinned chick. You know, the ho that used to hang around Angel and dem.”

Damn, that’s Dink’s gal,
Smurf thought to himself.
I wonder what she’s back for.

T
O GET IT
out of the way, Laci made her way to the police department. She was directed to the interrogation room, where Officer Jones and Detective Clifton arrived within minutes.

“Thank you for coming, Ms. Johnson,” Officer Jones spoke as he sat across from her.
Wait a minute,
he thought to himself,
that’s Dink’s girl.
He remembered her from the tape, but he’d also seen Dink sporting her around the hood some months back.

“We wanted to talk to you because we think you may have information on Crystal Moore and the whereabouts of her drug-dealing boyfriend,” Detective Clifton said.

“
Alleged
drug-dealing boyfriend,” Officer Jones corrected.

“I got a file on both of them,” the detective barked at his young protégé.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Laci told both men.

Detective Clifton glared at Laci in an attempt to intimidate her. “So are you saying you don’t know who Crystal Moore is?” He opened up the file that contained all of the SBBs pictures, including hers. He placed the photos in front of her.

“No, I’m not saying that.” Laci stayed calm and cool.

“Well, please tell me how you know these girls,” he asked, staring at her.

“Wait a minute,” Laci said. “I’m coming down here to help answer your questions.” She looked at the detective with tears welling up in her eyes. “Why are you talking to me like this? What have they told you about me?” Officer Jones handed her a Kleenex. “I don’t have anything to do with them and I shouldn’t have gotten to know them in the first place.”

“It was pretty ingenious what you did though, Ms. Johnson. Doing your dirt in the South Bronx and not taking it back to Riverdale. Are you their connect?”

Officer Jones looked at his partner in disgust. “Man, chill out,” he told him.

“Dirt?” she questioned. “Connect? You think I’m involved in drugs? Do I look like I’d be involved in that mess?” Laci looked between the two cops.

“It takes all kinds,” Detective Clifton spoke.

“Well, you know, at one point, I
was
into drugs.” Detective Clifton’s face lit up like a light bulb. “But not in the way you’re thinking. They played the cruelest joke on me. The worst that anyone could play on anybody.”

“What’s that?” Officer Jones spoke in a calming voice, hoping to diffuse his partner’s tone.

“They gave me a joint laced with crack and I ended up an addict.” She looked at both officers again.

“Whoa . . . they what?” they both asked.

“They gave me crack,” she repeated. “First it was laced weed, but then they gave me more. I had a full-blown addiction.”

That explains the tape.
Officer Jones thought to himself.

“Ms. Johnson, did Crystal Moore have anything to do with it?”

“I’m not sure how much say-so she had in it, but I’m sure she knew about it. She was one of them too.” Laci wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

“Did you give her the gun she was carrying the afternoon she was shot?”

“Did you hear what I just told you?” Laci asked, raising her voice, tired of the questioning about Crystal. “You’re questioning me about something I know nothing about, but I tell you that they turned me into a goddamn crackhead and you just sit here and do nothing about it?”

“Honestly,” Detective Clifton told Laci truthfully, “there’s nothing I can do.”

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? I told you they turned me into a fuckin’ crackhead!” she yelled.

With a pointing finger, he continued his assault on her. “You were the one on drugs, Ms. Johnson. They didn’t force you to take it.”

Laci got up with a quickness. “Ohhh!!!” she yelled as she stormed out of the interrogation room, rushing past additional officers and other people being brought in for one reason or another.

L
ACI MADE IT
back to Riverdale in record time. She wanted nothing more to do with the South Bronx, the SBBs, or the NYPD and started packing her bags to go back to Boston.

“I can’t believe this,” she said out loud, as the tears she’d already released on her drive back home came pouring down again. Laci began shoving her clothes into her overnight bag. “I can’t believe I was so stupid,” she said to herself. “I didn’t ask for none of this, but they wanna try to get me in trouble with the police? They got me high. They turned me out.” She shoved more into her bag. “I’m knocked up by God-knows-who and they can’t arrest them?”

“Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing?”

Laci was startled. “Ooh, Uncle Sonny, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he told her genuinely. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

“Home.” She went to her closet to get a duffel bag. “The South Bronx ain’t for me anymore.”

“What happened, baby?”

“Those damn bitches!” Laci exclaimed.

“Have you contacted the police at all?”

“Yes, actually I just came from there. I spoke with Officer Jones and his bad-cop partner. He all but told me I had something to do with Crystal’s death but when I told them that those girls turned me into a drug addict, they said they can’t do anything about it.”

Sonny’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, can’t do anything about it?”

“Yup, that’s what they said, claiming they didn’t twist my arm to take the drugs.”

Sonny was speechless. The police can take crackheads off the streets and throw them in jail, but they can’t arrest the person who sold them the drugs. It seemed backward to him.

“Did your mother tell you that one of those girls came here to talk to her?”

Laci stopped and looked at her uncle like he was crazy.

“Who came where?” she said in a hushed voice.

“Some girl named Monique.”

Laci became furious. “Now the bitch is coming to my house. If she knows where Mom lives, I’m sure Tonette knows. Naw, this shit ain’t happening!”

“Actually, Laci, she told your mother that Tonette was the person behind the drugs.”

Laci’s anger got the best of her and she grabbed her mother’s car keys. She didn’t care what would happen. She was going to find those bitches. Laci moved too fast for her uncle to catch up to her, but just as she got outside and marched to the car, she was stopped by someone calling her name.

“Ms. Johnson! Hey, Laci!”

She looked to see who it was. It was Officer Jones, and Laci glared at him evilly. “What?!” she growled.

“Look, I really couldn’t talk back in the precinct, but you’re Dink’s gal, right?”

“Why you wanna know?”

“Look, it’s a long story. I want to apologize for my asshole partner,” he told her. “He gets a little excited sometimes. But what those girls did to you, that was fucked up—”

“So why can’t you arrest them?” Laci began to cry.

“Is that what you want me to do?” he asked her seriously. “With all that they’ve done to you, you want me to arrest them? Well, if that’s what you want, then it shall be done.”

“Humph . . .” Laci thought about the unwanted life inside her body, she thought about the accusations the detective made, and most of all, she thought about how the girls treated her like shit, and a deep shade of red covered her face. “You know what, an eye for an eye.”