Street Chronicles Girls in the Game (4 page)

“AaahhHhhh!” They both screamed like little bitches. I nearly scared the shit out of them both.

The girl quickly sat up, shaking in her seat. I looked directly at the bitch, paying no mind to Li'l Man. I could deal with him later.

“Stacey! You lying bitch!” I yelled as I opened the car door and jumped over Li'l Man, attempting to kill her ass.

Grabbing her by the neck with a grip of death with my left hand and punching her in the face with my right, I nearly beat her delirious before Li'l Man could get me off of her.

“Get your ghetto ass out of here,” he yelled as he dragged me across the gravel parking lot by my hair. “Fuckin’ hood rat.” Before walking away Li'l Man gathered a wad of saliva in his mouth and spit at me. It landed on my arm.

As I lay there on the ground, exhausted and struggling to catch my breath, I attempted to piece together what had just occurred. I couldn't believe Li'l Man was treating me like this. He was actually taking up for Stacey and fighting me over her. And the ultimate … he had the audacity to spit on me. Li'l Man was truly treating me like I was exactly what he said—a fuckin’ hood rat.

“Oh, you gon’ choose the bitch over me?” I asked after catching my breath.

I struggled to get to my feet as I wiped the spit from my arm on my pants leg. “I had your damn child, Li'l Man. I'm your fucking baby mama!” I cried hysterically as I headed back to the car.

I drove back to the club in a daze. I couldn't believe what just happened. I should have gone with my instincts and the advice of my girls and just let the shit ride.

Once I got back to the club, I called my girls to let them know I was outside and ready to go. Then I turned my phone off. I didn't even want to hear the shit Li'l Man would be saying. Five minutes later my girls came out of the club with Young Boy. They all came to the car. I'd almost forgotten how crazy I looked. I was embarrassed to even look up at Young Boy. Because of the fight, I was a HAM, a hot-ass mess.

“What the fuck happened to you, ma?” Young Boy asked as he examined my bruised body and wild hair.

I explained to him and my friends the drama I had just experienced. They were all at a loss for words. Young Boy was the first to speak up.

“For real, baby girl. I don't even know what to say right now. But look,” Young Boy said, taking a card out of his pocket. “Here's my number. Why don't you hit me up tomorrow?” He handed me his barbershop business card, which had three contact numbers on it.

I accepted and agreed to give him a call. Young Boy walked away, leaving my girls and me sitting there. There was complete silence, and I knew they wanted to say,
I told you so,
but none of them had the guts to do so. They knew I was drunk and pissed off, and at any moment I could lash out at either of them. After making sure I was cool to drive, they said good-bye and we went our separate ways.

When I got to my apartment door I could hear my phone ringing off the hook. I unlocked the door and walked in. I already knew who it was. I didn't even bother looking at the caller ID. I just walked up to the phone and turned the ringer off. I hopped in the bed and shortly thereafter I was sound asleep.

Bang, bang … bang, bang!
I was awakened by the constant banging on my front door. I rolled over and looked at the clock before dragging myself out of bed. It was already twelve noon and it felt like seven a.m.

“Who is it?” I yelled as I headed toward the door.

“Wwwhhhaaa, wwwhhhaaa, wwwhhhaaa,” I heard as I got to the door. TJ. was crying as though someone was killing him.

I rushed to open the door. Standing there was Brittani, Li'l Man's little sister, and she was holding a testy TJ. in her arms.

“Here, Tee,” Brittani said, handing TJ. to me. “He's been crying since I got him.”

“What you mean, since you got him?” I said, taking him from
her arms. “When did you get him, and where the fuck is his sorry-ass daddy?”

“I haven't talked to Li'l Man. Stacey brought TJ. over about one o'clock this morning. She said she was going to pick Li'l Man up from the club and they'd be back to get TJ. Well, they never came. Stacey's phone is off, and she's not answering her house phone. Li'l Man's phone is off, too. I don't know what's up, but TJ. has been crying for hours.”

Li'l Man had really fucked up now. Disrespecting me was one thing, but neglecting our child was on a whole different level.

“Well, thank you for bringing him to me,” I said, scrounging for my purse to hit her off with a couple of ends.

“Unh-unh,” she said, putting her hand up and declining the money before I could even locate it. “He's my nephew.” She then yawned and walked away.

I undressed TJ. to wash him up. When I felt his bare skin, he was burning up. I called his doctor's office right away. Once I spoke with the doctor, he advised me to take TJ. to the emergency room immediately. I didn't even wash my ass. I just packed TJ.'s diaper bag and headed to Children's Hospital emergency room. Once at the hospital, I cried as I watched the doctors do a number of tests on TJ.'s little weak body.

Ho w could I let this happen to my baby? What kind of mother am I?
I thought.

It wasn't until I saw my baby in this near-death state that my motherly instincts kicked in. TJ. was no longer Li'l Man's baby. He was
my
baby. I was all TJ. had. I brought him into this world. It was my responsibility to make sure he had the best care and upbringing. I swore that from this day forth I would be the best mother I could be, with or without Li'l Man. Fuck being Li'l Man's baby mama. I was
my
baby's mama, TJ.'s.

“Ms. CaRter?” The doctor interrupted my thoughts.

“Yes?” I said, praying it wasn't bad news.

“It looks like Tyrone is experiencing alcohol poisoning. We've pumped his stomach, and it looks like he's going to be okay. We'd just like to keep him here for the rest of the day for observation. Also it is our policy to have a representative from Child Protective Services speak with the parents in cases such as this.” Just then he opened the door to allow a social worker to enter the room.

“Alcohol poisoning?” I said in a dazed state. I was frozen in disbelief. My body became warm all over, and I felt as though I was going to faint as the doctor's words about a social worker registered in my head.

“Oh, my God! Please, no,” I begged as tears began to roll down my cheeks. I knew exactly what the fuck was about to happen. They were going to take TJ. from me for neglect. I'd seen this happen one too many times in the projects, kids kicking and screaming with snot coming out their noses, and calling out to their mamas, even when their mama was the one hurting them.

“Please calm down, sweetie,” the social worker said as she walked over to comfort me. “I'm Tina Morrison, and I would just like to ask you a few questions.” She sat down next to me with a clipboard and paperwork like I was about to interview for a job.

“No, it's not my fault! I'm a good mother!” I paused, attempting to catch my breath and speak clearly between my hysterical cries. “He was with his father. Please don't take my child from me, ma'am. Please!” I continued to beg between tears.

“Well, it has not been determined what will be done at this point. But, Ms. Carter, your baby has alcohol poisoning.” She then paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I need to gather a little more information from you as well as the doctor. Let's start with you. How often do you drink? You've obviously been drinking. I can smell the alcohol on your breath now.”

I dropped my head in my hands and began to cry uncontrollably I knew I'd lost the battle. Yet I still answered each question Mrs. Morrison asked. After thirty minutes of interrogating, she was finally done with me.

“Thank you, Ms. Carter. We will be notifying you of our decision before Tyrone is released from the hospital,” she said as she gathered her things and left me alone.

I stayed in the waiting room for hours, crying and pacing the floor as I waited for TJ.'s release. Although periodically the doctor would come and give me a positive update of his progress, it seemed like days were passing as I waited. I was glad to know that TJ. was going to be fine. But I needed to know how he got alcohol in his system in the first place. Who the fuck would give alcohol to a newborn?

I decided to start with Brittani, Li'l Man's little sister, since she was the one who had him last. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and dialed the phone number. As it rang in my ear, I reminded myself to be as calm as possible as I spoke to her. I knew if I was too aggressive, I would get nowhere and never know who was responsible for T.J.'s sickness.

“HEllo?” Brittani answered on the first ring.

“Hey, girl.” I took a deep breath.

“Hey, Tee, what's wrong?” she asked.

“It's TJ. He is really sick. I need to know if you noticed anything strange when Stacey dropped him off.”

“Well, TJ. was really calm, almost to the point of being spaced out when Stacey brought him. I found that kinda unusual, being that he's normally pretty active. I even asked her about it. She just said he was probably tired because she had just fed him and bathed him—”

I interrupted her midsentence. “ ‘Spaced out’? Could you explain exactly what you mean?”

“Well, he wasn't very attentive. He just seemed to be in his own world.”

I found that pretty strange.

I asked my next question: “Did you feed him anything?”

“Yes, I did. After a while he became a little fussy, so I gave him a bottle. Stacey already had all the bottles prepared.”

That, too, was strange. I continued to ask her question after question until I was sure she'd given me every detail. After speaking with her, I was sure she had no part in Stacey's evil plot to steal my crown. Now it was on to that bitch Stacey.

I knew it would be hard to get any information out of her ass, since she had just received a royal ass-whipping from me. I blocked my cell phone number from showing up on her caller ID so that I'd have a better chance of her answering the phone.

“HEllo?” she answered.

“Stacey, this is Tee. I'm not calling to argue. I'm calling in reference to my son,” I said calmly.

“Yes? What about him?” she said with an attitude.

“When you kept him last night, what did you feed him? Did you give him anything other than milk? Did he seem sick when you had him?” I spit out questions one after another. I was interrogating her the same way that social worker had interrogated me.

“What exactly are you insinuating, Tee?” Stacey said, obviously offended.

“I'm not insinuating anything; it's just that—”

“Look, little girl, just because you are an unfit mother, don't try to blame me for any problems you're having with your child,” she interrupted. The next thing I knew there was a click in my ear and the line went dead. That bitch had hung up on me.

Now I was really pissed off. I knew that bitch was guilty of something. She was either guilty of knowing or guilty of doing.
Either way, when it came to my baby, guilty was guilty, and her ass needed to be dealt with.

I called her phone right back, ready to blast her ass just as soon as she answered, but I got her voice mail instead. She had turned her phone off. But that was okay, because I was sure to run into her ass again, and when I did it wouldn't be pretty. Premeditated revenge is the worst kind, and she had just placed her ass at the top of my “get back” list.

Just as I was getting ready to call Li'l Man and scream on him, Mrs. Morrison walked in. I already knew the verdict from the look on her face.

“I'm sorry, Ms. Carter—” she began.

“No need to go any further. Just tell me what I need to do to get him back,” I said, holding in the tears, trying to be strong and just handle my business.

She explained the process to me, and as soon as she finished I walked off with tears rolling down my cheeks without saying a word. I couldn't hold them back any longer, but I wasn't going to let her see me cry.

I was all to pieces as I walked out of the hospital. I was in absolutely no shape to drive. I couldn't even see straight and would probably have driven the car off the road. I didn't even bother calling a cab. I decided to walk home. My sister would have to come to the hospital herself to get her car. I needed time and fresh air to gather my thoughts. I had to start planning how to get my son back. I knew I would need a good lawyer, so my first task was getting the money to pay for one. I factored Li'l Man in as an option, but not a reliable one. I had to think of ways I could get the loot on my own. My years in the projects made me a natural hustler, so the perfect idea came easily. Once I had my plan, all I needed to do was execute it!

J
ust as soon as I arrived home, I turned on the ringer on my phone and checked my voice mail.

“You have seventeen new messages,” the recording said.

I wondered who in the hell would leave so many damn messages.

“Press one to listen to your messages,” the recording continued.

I pressed the one to hear the first message.

“You have a collect call from an inmate at the county jail,” I heard the recording say. There was a pause and then I heard a male voice: “Li'l Man.”