Mommy's Angel (6 page)

“Well, sorry. I won’t put none in ya drinks no more,” she said casually, as if it were no big deal.

“It’s cool. You ain’t know,” I told her. I wasn’t mad at Fiesta. Butter was to blame. But I didn’t trip. I figured it was nothing to worry about since everybody seemed to be cool about it and I wasn’t sick or anything. I just felt some type of way when Chestnut and them told me shit was being put in my drink without me knowing. I don’t play that shit. Too many people get strung out after shit like that, and one of my biggest fears was becoming a fiend. After seeing how crazy that shit got my mom, I vowed that would never be me.

I sat down on the bar stool and looked around the club. I was feeling funny, like depressed. I didn’t feel like working. I wanted to take a shot like I usually did to get me in my zone, but I doubted it would work the same without the pill in it. And I didn’t want to request the pill because then I would have felt like I had become dependent upon it. I didn’t know what to do. I just sat there watching the other girls work-some on the stage dancing and others giving lap dances. I watched them closely. They all seemed to have the same glare in their eyes and the same passion in their performances. I couldn’t help but guess that they were all on E. All that time I had thought it was just alcohol. Silly me. I had gotten myself in some shit I wasn’t sure I knew how to get out of.

“Either pull some money out and start tippin’ a bitch or get ya ass up on that stage and do ya job. It’s too packed in here for you to be wastin’ space.” Butter approached me from out of nowhere.

“Butter, I don’t feel good,” I told her.

“Well, get you a drink and feel better,” she commanded. “Do somethin’ other than sit there and pout.”

Butter went behind the bar and picked up a tray of drinks. She shot a quick glance at me and then went back into the crowd. Fiesta must have heard what Butter told me because she slid me a drink.

“It’s straight,” Fiesta answered my question before I could ask it. “It should help you loosen up at the least.”

I picked up the shot glass and hesitantly took it back. I frowned up my face and let out a deep breath. I waited for the Hennessy to kick in, and all that happened was I felt buzzed. I felt like telling jokes and laughing. Now, that might have worked if I had been going on stage at a comedy show, but it didn’t help me get naked. And I needed something that would. All the other girls were up there getting paid while I was sitting at the bar getting drunk.

“You want another one?” Fiesta asked me.

“Make it a solution,” I said, desperate for the reaction I had got used to getting. I figured if it wasn’t broke I wasn’t going to try to fix it. I had done all right that far. And besides, I had only been getting them three days a week at work. It wasn’t like I was poppin’ pills on the regular. And if it helped me make money, then it would have to do, because that’s what I was there for in the first place. The conversation I had earlier with Naja played in my head, and I took the solution drink back without a second thought.

I started feeling the effects of the pill and was back in the groove of things. Before long I was on stage doing my thing, clapping my butt cheeks, caressing my breasts, and opening my legs in guys’ faces. They loved it. The tips started to pour in and I was glad I hadn’t let the news of me taking E-pills get the best of me because I would have left the club that night without a dime.

When I was done with my dance, I went and sat at the bar. That time it was just to get some water. This guy came over and sat beside me. He was a young guy, like in his early twenties. He had on some jeans, a hoodie, and some Tims. I looked him over briefly but I didn’t say anything to him. I just sipped on my water.

“I liked what you did up there. You dance good,” the guy said to me after he shouted his order to Fiesta.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling, still under the influence.

“How about you give me a private dance?” he asked.

“A private dance, huh? Well, I never did one before.”

“It’s a first time for everything,” he responded, looking at my body.

Just his voice alone turned me on, and the way he looked at me, like he desired me, made me so wet.

“Plus, it’s worth a lot more than a stage dance,” he added, rubbing a hundred-dollar bill over my breasts.

Oh, God, that felt so good, I thought. I led him to the small room in the club that Butter took me to for our initial meeting. I could have done it right there at one of the tables, but I didn’t want the whole club to see me give my first lap dance. Inside the small room there were only six chairs. One girl was in there with a guy. The other five chairs were empty. A bouncer stood by the entrance. I took my customer to the chair farthest away from the other girl. I wanted as much privacy as I could get. The guy sat down and put his hands on my hips. I stood in between his legs for a moment and guided his hands up and down my thighs. After feeling the music and getting hornier I sat down on his lap from behind and started grinding on him. He was squeezing my butt cheeks and I was loving it. His dick got hard so fast I wouldn’t had been surprised if he had came in his jeans. I spent a few minutes in one position and then a few minutes from the front. He was rubbing my breasts and I put them in his face. I wanted him to put them in his mouth so bad. I was winding on him and we were touching each other. It was like we were having sex with our clothes on. Well, technically I was naked with the exception of a g-string. But he was fully clothed.

“I want you to suck my dick,” the guy whispered in my ear.

I was in la-la land feeling overly sexual and was more than willing to honor his wishes at that time. I slid off his lap and onto my knees. I unzipped his jeans and pulled his penis out. Without thought I put my mouth on him.

I had made one hundred and fifty dollars off that one guy and I didn’t even get his name. I liked it that way, though. That’s what made it exciting. That was the first night I left Shake’s feeling good about my job. And it wasn’t just about the money that night, it was about the control. I started taking E-pills willingly from that night on. They made me be the person I needed to be while I was at work, and that increased my profit.

R
ing!
The bell for lunch rang in the middle of my science teacher giving the class our homework assignment. I packed up my book bag and headed into the crowded hallway.

“Angel,” a guy’s voice called out.

I turned to see who was calling me, and it was Marie’s boyfriend, Kevin. What the hell did he want? I wondered. He knew me and his girl didn’t like each other. Why was he calling me?

“What’s up?” I asked him.

“Come here for a minute. Let me holla at you real quick,” Kevin said flirtatiously, posted up against his locker.

I laughed at him. He must have bumped his head. First of all, I had a boyfriend. Second, before I started dressing all right and getting my hair done he ain’t have nothin’ to say to me. Third, he was Marie’s and I wanted nothing to do with anybody who had something to do with that bitch.

I started to tell him how I felt about his silly ass, but before I could speak a familiar voice shouted out.

“OH NO, BITCH!”

Just as I had turned around to correct Marie, her balled fist came right at my face. In a matter of minutes I was pulled off of Marie by a school security guard.

People lined the halls and watched me get dragged to the principal’s office. The principal, Mrs. Keen, was furious when the guard told her that it was me who had been in a fight.

She called me over to her desk with an angry look. I walked over there feeling like I had lost before the battle even began. I knew I wasn’t in the wrong for that fight. I simply defended myself. But the look on Mrs. Keen’s face told me that she was not going to be trying to hear any of that.

“Angel, I warned you,” were the first words that came out Mrs. Keen’s mouth. “Now, this is unacceptable. Nine fights before the first marking period. There is absolutely no way I can excuse this.”

I snapped, “She started with me!”

“I don’t want to hear that! There are other ways to handle confrontations.”

“Like what? What should I have done after she punched me in my face?” I asked, frustrated. I was sick of being the underdog. I was tired of being hated on, teased, laughed at, and then being blamed every time I fought back.

“You are not in any position to ask questions, young lady,” Mrs. Keen said as she cut her eyes at me.

“Well, then don’t ask me no questions either!”

“You know, Angel, you are going to be one of those people who make life harder than it has to be. I gave you chance after chance to redeem yourself. All of your teachers say that you are one of their best students. School could be a breeze for you, but…”

“Exactly,” I jumped in. “Did you ever stop to ask yourself why I fight so much and why it’s always the same girl? I’m tellin’ you, she always startin’ with me! She punched me in my fuckin’ face! What I’m supposed to do after that?”

“First off, watch your mouth in my office! Second, there are going to be Maries everywhere you go. You need to learn how to deal with them appropriately, and beating on them is not the way. And you know what I find interesting? According to you she’s always the aggressor, but yet she’s the one who ends up with bruises and scars.”

“It ain’t my fault she can’t fight!” I jumped in again.

Mrs. Keen gave me a look. She was upset. I guessed she wanted me to just sit there and shut up while she chewed me to pieces. She was out her damn mind.

“Be quiet!”
she said sternly.

I rolled my eyes.

“Now, the last fight, her mother threatened to press charges against you and the school. I told her that if she didn’ t, I would personally see to it that her daughter would never have another altercation with you again. And look what happened. It wasn’t enough for me to threaten to expel you? That didn’t play in your head at all this afternoon did it?”

At that point I knew what it was. Mrs. Keen was under pressure to keep her promise to Marie’s mom, so regardless whose fault it was or what I had to say, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Marie’s mom.

“Well, if this is about moms, then, yeah, I lost. My mom ain’t comin’ up here raisin’ hell for me. Look at my face. I have a scratch on it, too, but my mom ain’t threatenin’ to press charges on nobody. And if that’s what it takes to keep me from getting kicked out, then I have no win ’cause my mom ain’t doin’ it. So go ’head and expel me. Make Marie’s mom happy! I could give a fuck!” I snapped.

I got up and left Mrs. Keen’s office. When I walked out the doors of the school, I didn’t look back. I was too through with those people. All they cared about was the school’s reputation. They didn’t give a damn about the students, and damn sure not me.

It was only one o’clock, and I wasn’t ready to go home. I wished Jamal was home—I would have kicked it with him. But he was at work and didn’t get off until that evening. I figured I would go chill with Stacey and tell her what happened. I needed to blow off some steam. It was warm outside for November and it showed. Newton’s Laundromat was packed, everybody was out on Bedford Ave., and the Louis Armstrong Projects were hittin’. The kids were out jumping rope and runnin’ around. The older people were sitting in their kitchen chairs in front of their doors. And of course the hustlers were out on every corner, occasionally making hand-to-hand sales, but for the most part playing ball with the little boys.

“Hey, Stacey,” I said, as I walked in C & S’ s.

Stacey was behind the counter watching the stories. The store was empty. She hadn’t got hit with the after-school traffic yet.

“Hey, girlfriend,” Stacey said joyfully. “What you doin’ out of school?”

I twisted up my lips and told her, “I got some bad news.”

“What happened?” she asked as she walked from behind the counter and leaned up against the deep freezer. “You were in a fight?” She obviously noticed the scratch under my eye.

“Yeah. But before you lecture me about how not cute it is to be fightin’, let me tell you the whole story.”

“I’m listening,” Stacey said.

“You know the girl Marie who…”

Stacey cut me off and said, “Oh, Lord, not her again.”

“Yes. Anyway, her boyfriend tried to holla at me in the hallway and…”

“And you gave him the time of day?”

“No, no. Listen,” I whined.

“Oh, my bad. Go ‘head.”

“So, I was about to tell him I was cool, and here she come out of nowhere calling me a B. Then she swung on me. I had to fight her after that,” I recalled.

“Um, um, um. So, what, you got suspended?”

“Worse,” I said, regretful.

“What?”

“They kicked me out.”

Stacey’s bottom lip dropped. “No they didn’t.”

“Stacey, I am so pissed off,” I said.

“You should be. What are you goin’ do? How are you goin’ get ya education?”

“I don’t know. Mrs. Keen made me so mad. I just walked out on her.”

“Who’s that, your teacher?”

“No. The principal.”

“You walked out on your principal? Oh, girlfriend, you in hot water.”

I took a deep breath. “I know.”

“So, what you goin’ do?”

“I don’t know. If my mom had her act together I would have her go up there and curse everybody out. That’s what Marie mom did and that’s why I’m the one that got kicked out and she didn’t. But…”

Cat walked in the store, interrupting me and Stacey.

“What it is, my favorite customer?” Cat greeted me loud and cheerful.

“Hey, Cat,” I said with a slight smile.

“Hey, baby,” Stacey said, hugging Cat.

“You goin’ be doin’ a lot more than hugging me when you see what Daddy got for you,” Cat said, handing Stacey two plane tickets.

Stacey looked at the tickets and then jumped up and down like they were winning lottery tickets.

“Oh, my God, Cat, you got ’em! We’re goin’? For real?” she shouted.

“Where y’all goin’?” I asked, trying to peek over at the tickets.

“Oh, girl,” she began. “We’re going to Jamaica.”

“That’s what’s up,” I said. “When are y’all goin?”

“We’re leaving Wednesday!” she said excitedly. “We haven’t been back home in a while, and I told Cat I wish we could spend the holidays with our families.”

“So y’all goin’ down there for Thanksgiving?”

“Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year,” Cat informed me. “We won’t be back in here until the day after New Year’ s.”

Stacey screamed with happiness. “Oh, my God. I have so much packing to do!”

“What about the store?” I asked. “How y’all just goin close the store for that long?”

“My brother goin’ run it for us,” Cat said. “We need a break.”

“But what am I goin’ do for so long without y’all,” I whined. Cat thought I was just joking, but Stacey knew I was serious. She knew that her store was like a safe haven for me.

“Girlfriend, you’ll be all right. That time is gonna fly by so fast you not goin’ know we left,” she said. “And if you need me to I’ll go up to your school when we get back.” She winked her eye at me.

I appreciated the gesture but was still upset that they were leaving. I was happy for them just sad for me. I wished they could have took me with them. I would have loved to go to Jamaica—shit, I would have loved to go anywhere away from home.

I left C & S’s right before the elementary kids rushed the store. When I got home Naja was in our room on the phone. Kindle was in there with her scribbling on a shoebox top.

“What’s up, y’all,” I said, sitting on my bed.

Naja waved and Kindle said hi, but both continued doing what they were doing.

“Where Mommy at?” I asked.

“In her room,” Naja answered.

“Marvin in there, too?” I asked.

Naja shook her head.

“Hold on,” she told whoever she was talking to. “Him and Mommy got in a fight and he left,” she said, smiling.

“Did he hit ’er?” I asked, almost whispering. I didn’t want Kindle to hear me.

“Yup,” Naja said, going back to her phone conversation.

“He a sorry son of a bitch. He lucky Curt ain’t alive. His ass would be…”

Naja nodded and said, “I hope he stay gone.”

I took off my school uniform and threw on some chill clothes. I went downstairs to the kitchen to start dinner. I decided I would make spaghetti. It was the only other meal I knew how to cook besides chicken wings and boxed macaroni. I started thinking about my older brother Curt and how much things would have been different had he been alive. He would have been twenty-four. He was a lot older than me, but we were close. I remember he used to pick me and Naja up from elementary school and take us shopping at the Manhattan Mall. Those were the days. I wished he were still with us so bad. He would have never saw us living like we did. My mom probably would have never got strung out in the first place. And Curt damn sure would not have had Marvin in this house.

I drained the ground beef and put the spaghetti in the boiling water. I stirred the sauce and poured the meat in it slowly. While I waited for the spaghetti to get done I set the kitchen table. Kindle came in the kitchen before I yelled for him and Naja to come eat. I guessed he was hungry.

“What you cookin?” he asked me, standing on his toes trying to see on top of the stove.

“Step back. It’s hot,” I told him. “Matter fact, go upstairs and wash your hands and tell Naja to come on and eat.”

“You made spaghetti?” My mom appeared in the kitchen.

“I thought you was sleep,” I said, without looking at my mom.

“Put a plate up for me, okay? I’m goin’ around Jackie’ s.”

“You want to eat now with us?” I asked my mom, finally looking at her bruised face.

I hoped she would say yes, because then she wouldn’t have went and got high. That would have been one less bag of dope being put in her system.

“No. I’m not hungry right now. I need to go around the corner. Aunt Jackie got some money for me,” she said as she took our Rocawear coat off the basement door and put it on. She dug into the pockets and asked me, “Where my cigarettes at?”

“I don’t know.”

“They was in my pockets. Who wore this jacket last?”

“Naja,” I told her.

“Naja!”
my mom yelled upstairs.

“What?”
Naja yelled back.

“You seen my cigarettes in my coat pocket?”

“It wad only one in there,”
Naja yelled.

“Well, where is it?”

“I gave it to my friend!”

“What you mean, you gave it to ya friend! Keep ya fuckin’ hands off my shit, okay! You ain’t grown!”

My mom came back into the kitchen. She was upset.

“Angel, give me five dollars until I get back from Aunt Jackie’ s.”

“Ain’t you about to go get money from Aunt Jackie now?” I asked my mom, recalling her excuse for not having dinner with us.