Sellout (19 page)

BEFORE WE EVEN got to the door to the apartment, we heard loud music wafting down the hallway toward us. When we first knocked, Loser Boyfriend opened it only a crack. When I asked for Monique, he started to close the door again. When he saw Khalik standing behind us, he changed his mind.

“What up, cuz?” L.B. yelled loudly, grabbing Khalik’s outstretched hand and half hugging him, patting him roughly on the back.

“Everything is everything, playa,” Khalik answered. L.B. pulled Khalik into the apartment and had almost forgotten about Quiana and me in the hallway. “Oh, my girls here wanted to holler at Mo. She around?”

We had all eyed him and he us. He had pulled at his sagging sweatpants and dropped himself into a shabby green recliner that didn’t recline. He pointed the remote control in his hand to a stereo next to the baseball game on his TV and motioned toward a closed door down the hall. We let the door slam behind us and shuffled quickly toward Monique. For the first time, Quiana even looked uncomfortable.

We found Monique huddled in the corner of her bedroom. She was rifling through photographs and crying at the same time. There were children in tattered clothes and with wild, unkempt hair smiling in the pictures. Maybe they were Monique’s siblings. By the way she held the pictures and cried a little more at each one, she clearly kept them somewhere deep in her heart.

Monique hardly noticed Quiana and me enter her bedroom, which surprised me because of the small amount of space around us. We barely fit around a pile of unfolded clothes and a twin mattress pushed up against one wall and the window. A red and white striped bedsheet was half tucked under the mattress, but didn’t fit all the way across. The other matching bedsheet hung over the window guards like a curtain. It blew back and forth slightly in the wind.

“Mo, what happened, girl?” Quiana asked. She knelt down on top of the pile of clothes so she was facing Monique. No answer. Monique didn’t look up or move a muscle. After a few minutes she flipped to another photo and started crying again. “We waited for you all morning. You didn’t hear your phone ringing?”

Quiana rifled through the clothes under her and the photos lying around Monique, looking for a phone. She didn’t find one. Quiana shifted uncomfortably and shook her head back and forth. The silence was starting to bother me. Monique had to know how much trouble it was leaving Amber’s Place to come find her, not to mention how much trouble I’d be in if Tilly knew where I was and what I had gotten involved in.

“Yeah, Monique, we were really worried about you,” I said. I took a seat on the mattress and held my bag in my lap. “Weren’t you planning to be recognized at the reception tonight?”

I knew from walking in and seeing her sitting in the corner crying that she probably wasn’t concerned with the reception. That was the least of her worries, especially with L.B. in the other room on the couch.

“Enough with the tired pictures already,” Quiana snapped. Monique and I both jumped. The pictures flew out of Monique’s hands and fell into the pile of clothing between the girls. I stared back and forth to see who would move first. “You know I hate that dude. Why you have us come up here looking for you? You could have called.”

Quiana lectured her like a child. I felt sorry for Monique, for more than just getting yelled at. I wondered if Khalik was alright in the living room. I could still hear loud music playing. I prayed the screams I heard were coming from a song and not from him signaling for help.

“And you could at least have the decency to look at us,” Quiana shot out. She pulled Monique’s chin from its hiding place against her neck. That’s when we saw the mushy dark skin swelling around her right eye, the wound she’d been hiding in tissues since we’d walked in her room.

“Oh my God, Monique,” I tossed my purse aside on the bed and rushed toward her. Quiana put her hand up like a stop sign right in front of my chest.

“No, pack a bag for her,” Quiana said. Her voice was steady. She was in total control and gave orders like a seasoned
drill sergeant. I was glad, too, because I was so shook up I didn’t know what to do. “There’s a bag over by the closet, fill it.”

I did as I was told. I tried to color coordinate, but it was hard to concentrate. Behind my back I could hear Quiana helping Monique to her feet. She changed her clothes, washed and made up her face, and brushed her hair. Only up close could you still see the marks.

My mind raced as I filled her pink duffel to the brim. What would Quiana do to L.B. now? What would he do to us? How would Red and Tilly react? Why was Monique putting up with this? Where were her parents? What were Khalik’s friends doing downstairs? Were they wondering what was taking us so long? What outfit should Monique wear for the reception? Why was I thinking about Monique’s attire? Would any man ever hit me like that? No, Tilly would kill him with a pair of her cooking shears. I picked a pair of small black ballet slippers and zipped the duffel shut.

“You okay, Monique?” I asked her. I knew it was the wrong question to ask her, but I didn’t know what else to say. She nodded. I slung my purse and her bag over my shoulder and stood next to them.

Quiana had combed Monique’s hair so her bangs swept just right across her bruised eye. She did look much better, but she was a little hunched over and stuck closely behind Quiana. Quiana’s anger hadn’t subsided. She stood in front of Monique like a momma lion protecting her young. Only a young naïve animal would attempt to get at that cub. I didn’t
even think L.B. was that stupid. We walked past him without a word.

“Alright, man, you stay up,” Khalik said behind us. He was at the door right as I was walking through it. I could tell by how quickly he jumped up that he’d been ready to go for a while. He shut the door behind him before L.B. could even respond. The echo of the door slamming reverberated in my head all the way out of the building and down the street.

“Let’s roll,” Khalik called, motioning for all his friends to join us. They appeared around us like weeds in uncut grass from their hiding corners.

“We got two hours until the reception, one to find gifts and one to get back. Are we going to make it?” I asked. I looked at Quiana and Monique and they both looked back at me, one with confidence and the other blankly. “Yeah, we’re going to make it,” I decided.

We walked to the train station as quickly as Monique could shuffle her feet.

QUIANA AND I piled into the reception hall with our entourage. The reception hall looked considerably different with all of our friends and family gathered around the decor we had worked so hard arranging. I spotted my parents and Tilly and waved.

Heather and Stephanie waved like they were family, distant cousins who I wasn’t thrilled to have to spend time with. I waved back. Quiana pushed me forward and we continued walking to the front of the audience toward our seats. I nodded and turned toward the front of the stage.

“What’s the deal?” Quiana asked me as we settled in. I glanced back at Heather and Stephanie, who were still staring at me, and shook my head to let Quiana know everything was okay, and to convince myself to let it go.

“Just saw some old friends, that’s all,” I told her and took my seat next to Susan. The other girls from Amber’s Place were seated all together in the front three rows. Tilly, Red, and Coach were seated like royalty on the stage, facing the audience. Tilly wore a black Sunday church suit and matching
hat, Coach a Sean John tracksuit, and Red a dark blue business suit with a bright orange scarf draped around her neck. Red stepped up to the podium to begin.

“Welcome, everyone, and thank you for coming to celebrate all of these special girls,” Red said, as she shifted from one foot to the other behind the podium. “Girls come to Amber’s Place for various reasons, but no matter the reason, they all mean the world to us. I’d like to take a moment to recognize these girls.”

Red named each of the girls, me included, slowly, as if giving the audience time to reflect on our lives and our accomplishments. This was enough to put Susan over the edge. I saw tears after each name. Red smiled and pointed us out one by one, some names drawing thunderous applause and chants like at an awards show on TV.

“Okay, the moment we’ve all been waiting for…all of these girls have grown since they’ve been at Amber’s Place, but some more than others,” Red said, motioning for Tilly to join her up at the podium.

Tilly loved center stage so she took her time, waiting for the applause for her to grow and then die down a bit. I clapped, too. Everyone in the room knew Tilly and loved her just as much as I did.

“And let the church say amen,” Tilly yelled into the mic. The crowd went wild with laughter. I knew someone would have to drag Tilly off the stage if she started preaching. “Just kidding, I won’t be long, but these girls know I don’t start nothing without giving God the praise.”

She motioned for us all to clap for our maker just like a congregation does in church. No one was surprised and we followed her lead.

“Now we can begin,” she said dramatically. “I love all these girls just like they were my own. Every last one of them could tell you a story that would make you lose your lunch and then cry like a baby. Today, I wanted someone to speak who had worked like a dog to better herself and really make a change around here. She’s helped me whenever I needed it and recently helped my own granddaughter when she had a hard time coming to the center. Shaunda, get on up here and tell these folks how you made it.”

I thought I would choke when Tilly called me out like that, but I was also proud of Shaunda, who was walking slowly up to the podium. This was her moment. The girls had to listen to her now. Now everyone would see her. She hugged Tilly and Red, and gave Coach a high five on her way over to the microphone.

Shaunda wore a blue baby doll dress with the collar raised and a matching hair tie holding her ponytail together. She looked more ready for a photo shoot than a reception speech. I could just hear my mom and Tilly complimenting her on her first impression outfit later on. She leaned in too close to the mic, almost like she was going to kiss it, and started in a whisper.

I leaned forward and so did a few others around me. I saw her mouth moving but no words came out. Coach jumped up and pretended to adjust the mic and gave our speaker an
encouraging pat on the back. Shaunda cleared her throat and started again.

Quiana had a slight smirk on her face and started rubbing imaginary dirt from under her fingernails.

Shaunda looked past us to someone in the back of the room. She nodded, straightened her stance, and spoke directly into the microphone, commanding our attention. I looked back to see Rex, who was wearing a slightly tattered brown business suit with a yellow pocket square and yellow and black checkered tie. With his new haircut and sans shopping cart, I almost didn’t recognize him. He winked at me and turned his attention back to his assignment.

“When I came to Amber’s Place, I wasn’t surprised at what I’d found, girls just like me who needed a place to go, who didn’t accept me. I came in the first day to meet Red and Tilly, who convinced me that my life could be different if I wanted it to be, but knowing my life would be just the same as it’s always been, with people judging me, not liking me, making fun of me, and harassing me. I was almost convinced at first, but every time I came back, things only got worse. In elementary school the white kids didn’t like me because I was a tall black girl who wasn’t quite like them. The black kids my age wouldn’t associate with me because my skin was too light. I didn’t talk like them and I had one white friend, who was an outcast, too. For a long time I tried to vary my hairstyle, choose new clothes, adjust how I pronounced my words. I even wiped skin bleach across my face and arms, hoping and praying my caramel color would fade overnight so I’d have
more friends, more chance of fitting in. I tried everything I knew to try, and everything I saw my classmates doing around me, just trying to be liked.”

As Shaunda spoke, I could feel my body temperature start to rise. I shifted in my seat and folded and unfolded my legs a few times. The girls around me listened to Shaunda intently, as if she were a life coach handing out free survival tips. I wanted to listen, too, but it was hard for me to hear her story. Shaunda may not have realized it, but she was telling my story, too.

I certainly didn’t want perfect strangers knowing the truth. I felt like the whole crowd could see right through me and I wasn’t even the one onstage.

“I was by myself a lot of the time. When people were around, I told them whatever they wanted to hear. If my mom wanted me to talk, I talked. If she wanted me to listen, I listened. If she needed an explanation, I gave her one. She knew everything about me, except for how unhappy I really was. Neither of my parents had ever seen the marks on my skin before. I started hurting myself back in elementary school and no one had ever noticed. Or so I thought. I knew better than to lie to my mother, but keeping a secret was different. She found out most things on her own, like when I changed my voice to sound like my friends, or when I cut the heads off of all of the black professionals’ posters my mother had taped to my walls to replace them with lighter, and sometimes whiter, faces. My teachers and parents finally started noticing that I was crying every day about things they couldn’t understand.
During class I wasn’t paying attention and used any excuse I could think of to leave the room and head for the bathroom. I was failing every subject in school because I couldn’t focus. That got my parents’ attention, but by then it was too late. It got to the point where I ate alone, I cried alone, and I almost disappeared completely. I felt like I was literally in a world all by myself. So, finally, one day I decided to give up even trying.”

I snuck a look behind me. My parents and Heather were right in my line of sight. I couldn’t tell what they were thinking. My mother’s eyebrows were raised and arched, like they do when she tells me, “I told you so.” I slinked back around and prayed Shaunda would wrap up her speech sooner rather than later.

“One day my guidance counselor called my parents and me into a meeting about my behavior. She told us she was disturbed and confused at what was going on with me and how anxious she was to find a solution for me and for all parties involved. The counselor very strongly suggested I come to Amber’s Place to meet Red and Tilly. She said she knew of other girls like me who needed a home away from home and that this may be the answer we had all been looking for. The counselor also told me the girls at the center would be more forgiving because they all had issues to deal with and that I would fit in better under these circumstances. Well, she was wrong. Coming here was harder than being at school, but there was something comforting about knowing that I had somewhere else to escape to when one place became too hard to deal with.”

Shaunda took a long pause and looked toward us, not at anyone in particular, just over to where all the girls were seated in the first few rows. It was Quiana’s turn to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her arms were crossed now and she was staring in her lap. Monique and Rochelle looked just as uncomfortable. No one was willing to look at Shaunda anymore.

She was saying everything I had been feeling my entire life, and sometimes still felt. I had never fit in, either. Maybe none of us have. It really wasn’t important to fit in with a popular group of people, but I had made it that important. All of the girls around me had made it that serious, too. I looked around me.

We talked, listened, and counted on one another and we all showed up at the center religiously. Shaunda wiped a tear away just as I felt one sliding down my own cheek.

“Then I met Red and Tilly, and with their help, I changed the way I was thinking. We all have a story. We all feel like outsiders, out of place in a world that should accept us just because. But the world doesn’t accept us and instead, we fight each other. At Amber’s Place I’ve learned to stop fighting other people and myself. I can’t change other people, but I can change how I view myself. That’s a power I’ve never known. Part of the reason I’m standing here today is because of a few ladies and my speech coach, Rex, who really listened to my story, understood my story, and cared about me. If they could all come up here with me, please, I’d like to present a few awards to them on behalf of all the girls at Amber’s Place.”

As the awardees joined Shaunda onstage, the rest of us composed ourselves. The parents and siblings clapped and dabbed at their eyes. I wiped my face dry with the backs of both my hands, and was shocked to see the other girls around me doing the same. As Shaunda finished up, I felt a huge weight lifting from my shoulders. She told my story, and the stories of all of the girls, better than I could have hoped.

“Red, these are for you,” Shaunda said, handing Red a bag full of personalized notebooks and a new pair of hot pink sunglasses. Red slipped on the shades and modeled for the audience.

“Coach, you’re next.” The Amber’s Place girls whistled and pretended to spike volleyballs at her. She stepped closer to Shaunda and played along with us, pretending to dodge all the balls coming her way. She unwrapped a shiny new whistle to wear around her neck and a volleyball signed by the women’s USA Olympic team. Coach was touched.

“Ms. Tilly, please come forward,” Shaunda said, looking at me as she spoke. “This is a gift we all thought long and hard about.”

Tilly pulled a jewelry box out of her small bag and clutched her chest as if on cue. She breathed in dramatically and lifted the top of the box and screamed.

“Girl, you had better stop it,” Tilly said, pulling the pearls out of the box slowly. Shaunda took the bracelet from her and closed the clasp around Tilly’s wrist. Tilly spun around and around while we all clapped. She finally looked at
me when she was done spinning and I winked at her. She leaned into the mic again. “I want to thank all of you out there. I’m very proud of you girls and I will be signing autographs in the back.”

We all laughed and Shaunda reached for her last bag.

“And last but not least, Rex, I couldn’t have done this speech today without your guidance and advice,” Shaunda said, handing Rex a small bag like the others. I was pretty sure no one else in the audience knew who Rex was or what he looked like earlier in the day, but it didn’t seem like anyone cared. He fiddled with the wrapping and pulled out his gift. I thought I heard a collective gasp from the crowd, waiting to see what he had in his hands.

Rex opened the engraved stopwatch slowly and showed it to us before slipping it back in the box.

“Now is a good time to change a life, right, Rex?” Shaunda asked. He nodded and slipped the watch into his pocket. We clapped and he hugged Shaunda and smiled politely. Rex looked like a proud father.

Red called each of the girls onstage one by one. I was surprised, and happy, to be included. Tilly and Coach handed out hugs and certificates. When the ceremony was over, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

Most of the girls met up to hug their family members and smile for pictures. Quiana didn’t rush to meet anyone, so I dragged her along with me. She wasn’t happy about it, but she came. Tilly met up with us just as we reached my parents.

“Tilly and Tash, we’re so proud of you. You put on a great show up there,” my dad said, kissing us each on the forehead. “What can I say, Tilly, you were right.”

“I’m sorry, Walter, I couldn’t quite hear you, what was that?” Tilly said, laughing and jabbing him in his stomach and holding one hand up to her ear.

“You were right, Mom, and thank you for taking care of our little girl,” my mom said, hugging Tilly and then me.

“Mom, this is Quiana,” I said lightly, shoving Quiana on the shoulder. She shoved me back and nodded to my mom. “And, Quiana, this is my mom.”

Heather and Stephanie walked up behind us and we exchanged awkward hellos. The moment I met up with Heather again had played so differently in my head before. I thought I would scream at her for betraying our friendship. But things were different now. I was different.

“So, does all this mean you won’t be worried for your next visit with Tilly?” my mom asked jokingly. I looked at all those standing around me. I had too many reasons to come back now. They all stared at me.

“I’ll be back before the girls even notice I’m gone,” I said, shoving Quiana again. Everyone was smiling. “I’ll be here so much they won’t be able to get rid of me if they tried.”