The Pact (14 page)

Marcus

I
parked in the most inconspicuous space I could find in the parking lot, as far away from the door as possible.

“I’ll just wait in the car,” I told Rena.

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. It shouldn’t take long.” Rena stepped out of my car, the bill of her baseball cap down over her eyes. She wore sweatpants and a tank top.

I watched as she walked slowly to the door, and just before she went inside, she gave me a look over her shoulder. I gave her a smile of reassurance and then she stepped inside. I should’ve gone in with Rena; that would’ve been the manly thing to do. But I didn’t want to be seen in a place like this, a place where babies’ lives were ended before they even had a chance. It wasn’t something I wanted to be involved in. Just the thought of ending a baby’s life made me sad. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that things were this way, so why should he or she be punished? It wasn’t my call, though. I was simply the driver. I had no say-so in this situation whatsoever. That was my position, and I was sticking to it.

I sat in the parking lot for at least an hour, sunk down in the driver’s seat of my car, listening to Young Jeezy’s CD. By the time Rena finally tapped on the window of the car, I had fallen asleep. I hit the power locks and she got in.

“Well?” I asked.

“Well what?” She was different.

“How did it go?” I asked.

“Let’s just go, Marcus,” she said.

I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot of the abortion clinic. There was total silence on the way home. She didn’t want to talk about it, and I didn’t make her. I was just glad that the whole experience was over with. Wanted Rena to be the happy free spirit she’d once been. I figured that something like this might change her forever, though.

I pulled into my usual space in the subdivision. I sat there for a moment, thinking that Rena might want to talk. But she didn’t. Instead, she eased out of the car and slowly walked toward her house. She didn’t even say goodbye, and I didn’t pressure her. I just shut off my engine, hopped out and headed up the stairs.

When I walked into my house, Mom was on the phone with one of her girlfriends, gossiping about something. I walked right past her and rushed to my room, shut the door behind me. I heard Mom say, “Girl, let me call you back. Something’s wrong with Marcus.”

It wasn’t long before she popped her head into my room.

“Hey, Ma,” I said.

“Marcus, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied. I wasn’t ready to share this type of news with my mother.

“Baby, we need to talk,” she said, then stepped inside and sat on the edge of my bed.

Had she heard the news, too? That I was supposed to be the father of Rena’s baby, when I hadn’t even done what it took to earn that title? None of it mattered anymore, anyway. Rena had taken care of it, and the nightmare was over now. She’d promised to tell her father the truth and clear my name so I could have my reputation back. Only irresponsible dudes found themselves in situations like this. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to make love to a beautiful girl like Rena, but I would’ve taken precautions to be responsible and safe.

Mom’s little talk was interrupted by the doorbell.

“That’s probably Leon,” she said, “but why is he ringing the bell when he has a key?”

She had given him a key? Had he already moved in and nobody told me? I followed her and popped into the kitchen for a Cherry Coke.

“Are you Mrs. Carter?” The man on the other side of the door had an unfamiliar voice. It definitely wasn’t Leon. This guy stood at about six feet, three inches tall. A full beard covered his face.

“Yes, I am,” Mom said.

“May I come in?” he asked. “I’m David Jordan, Rena’s father. She’s a friend of your son’s.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve met Rena. Come on in,” Mom said, and let him inside. Rena was right behind him, her head hanging low. “Hello, Rena. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Carter,” she said softly.

“This is my son, Marcus,” Mom said to Rena’s father. “Marcus, do you know Mr. Jordan?”

“No, we’ve never met.”

I held my hand out to shake Mr. Jordan’s, but he didn’t reach back. Instead, he dismissed me and focused his attention on my mother. “We have a problem, Mrs. Carter.”

“Let’s step in here and have a seat.” Mom led them into the living room. The three of them sat down. I stood in the doorway of the room, curious as to what was about to go down. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I’ll just get straight to the point. My daughter is pregnant. And she says that your son is the father.”

My heart was pounding out of control. Clearly there was a mistake, because Rena and I had just left the abortion clinic, and she’d promised to clear my name.

“Marcus, is this true?” Mom asked.

“No.” I said it straight up.

“Are you calling my daughter a liar?” Mr. Jordan stood. He wanted to get in my face, but he remained composed. “She told me that it happened right here in your house, Mrs. Carter. Now, I don’t know what kinda crap you allow to go on up in here, but you need to get your house in order.”

“Mr. Jordan, I don’t appreciate you coming into my home making accusations about my son,” Mom defended me. “We’re prepared to have a DNA test.”

“Mom, no, we’re not,” I pleaded. “There’s no need. I know I’m not the father. Rena, tell your father the truth.”

She never opened her mouth to say one word, and I was confused.

“I understand that you took her to an abortion clinic this morning…forcing her to end this pregnancy,” he said. “We are Catholics and are totally against abortion. How dare you—”

“Marcus, is this true?” Mom asked. “Did you take Rena to an abortion clinic this morning?”

“Yes, I did but—”

“How could you do this, Marcus?” Mom looked as if I’d betrayed her.

Mr. Jordan’s piercing eyes stared my way. He was furious. Rena held her head low, not once defending me as she had promised, and I was caught in a terrible circle of lies and deceit.

“I would just like to know what Marcus is prepared to do about this situation, Mrs. Carter,” Mr. Jordan said.

“My son is a very responsible young man, and if he has to step up to the plate, he will.” My mother escorted Mr. Jordan to the door.

“You’re darn right he will,” Mr. Jordan said, and he and Rena left.

“Marcus, give me the keys to your car,” Mom said after Mr. Jordan was gone.

“Are you serious?” I asked her.

“As a heart attack.”

I didn’t say another word, just dug into my pocket and tossed her the keys to my BMW…or
her
BMW. She never once asked me if the baby had been mine. I was guilty in her eyes, and it hurt. There was no need to plead my case to my mother, so I left it alone. Just like Nana Summer told me once, everything would come out in the wash.

When the doorbell rang, Mom opened the door and let Leon in. He was the last person I needed to see. I didn’t need to be judged, and he had judgment written all over his face. He would take my mother’s side in a heartbeat. There was no expressing myself—I was guilty before I even had the opportunity to explain. I headed for my room, thought about packing my bags and heading back to Atlanta. Houston was no place for Marcus Carter.

Indigo

I
borrowed a pair of Sabrina’s shorts and some high-heeled shoes. I wanted to look grown when we showed up at the club. And there was nothing grown-up about my wardrobe. It wasn’t that I didn’t have cute clothes, but for this new lifestyle of mine, I needed fresh new stuff. The kind of stuff Sabrina wore, the kind Dugan appreciated.

“Indi, you look fly,” Dugan said when I stepped into the living room.

“Thank you.” I smiled.

Sabrina and I stepped into the club and were immediately swept away to the dance floor. I bounced to a Jay-Z tune with my handsome dance partner, who kept me on the floor for at least three songs after that.

“My name is Larry,” my partner announced when we finally abandoned the floor. “What’s yours?”

“Indigo.”

“Can I buy you a drink, Indigo?” he asked.

“Maybe a glass of wine,” I said.

I wasn’t sure what type of drink to order, considering I wasn’t a drinker. I just knew that I didn’t even like the smell of beer, so that was not an option. Mama had an occasional glass of wine when company came over, and there were special times when she had let me taste hers. Wine seemed to be the best choice.

I knew that wine was a drink that needed to be sipped, and so I sipped slowly. It had a bitter taste, much more dry than the wine that Mama drank, and not sweet like berries. I frowned every time I took a sip but forced it down just to save face. Larry sipped a beer as we sat at a cozy table in the corner of the room, discussing why his babies’ mama had left him and taken the kids with her. Larry had already had two beers, and I hadn’t even finished half of my wine. The longer it sat, the warmer it became. And warm dry wine was much worse than chilled dry wine. I left my drink on the table as Larry pulled me out onto the floor again. We fell in with a crowd of people who were doing the Cupid Shuffle.

Back at the bar, I slipped onto the seat next to Sabrina, who was way too cozy with a man who looked twice her age. They were laughing about something, and suddenly his lips brushed against hers, and I prayed that Dugan was nowhere around. She didn’t even notice that I was there as this man’s fingertips caressed her face. She grabbed her beer, took a drink and continued her conversation with him.

“Brina, you ready to go?” I asked, and she swung around and looked at me. Her eyes bloodshot, she smiled.

“Hey, there’s my cousin!” she shouted, and that was when I smelled the alcohol on her breath. “Meet my cousin Indi. Indi, this is…uh…What you say your name was?”

The man laughed and moved closer to her ear. “Stan.”

“Yeah, this is Stan. Indi, meet Stan.” Sabrina’s speech was slurred.

Stan reached over Sabrina’s shoulder and shook my hand.

“Nice to meet you, Indi,” he said. “What you drinking?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” I answered, and really became concerned about how we were going to get home. It was obvious that Sabrina wasn’t able to walk to the door, let alone drive. And I didn’t have a license—only a permit that allowed me to drive as long as there was an adult in the car. Sabrina was seventeen, and hardly an adult. We had a problem, and I didn’t have a solution. How could Sabrina drink so much, knowing that she didn’t have a designated driver? She had placed us in an awkward position.

Outside, we stood in the parking lot while Sabrina searched her purse for the keys to Dugan’s car. She wasn’t able to find them, and I was glad, because it gave me more time to come up with a plan. I did not feel safe getting in the car with Sabrina. I’d heard the reports about people driving drunk, and I wasn’t ready to become a statistic. I had my entire life ahead of me. Unfortunately, I’d have to do what I knew was the right thing—call Uncle Keith and ask him to pick us up. It was the only option. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and started slowly dialing his number.

“This is Keith…. Leave a message at the beep.”

I didn’t bother to leave a message. The keys to the car jingled as Sabrina held them in the air.

“Indi, you gotta drive.”

“What?”

“I can’t do it, girl. I had way too much to drink.”

She wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. How was I supposed to drive us home when I didn’t even know my way around Chicago? I snatched the keys from Sabrina, unlocked the doors and told her to get in the car while I asked for directions. She did just that, and her head rolled around on the passenger’s headrest. I flagged down a couple who happened to be leaving the club, gave them Sabrina’s address and asked for directions. They told me how to get there, and I hopped into the driver’s seat.

I adjusted my seat and mirrors the way Daddy had taught me. I checked my purse to make sure I had my fake ID that Sabrina had arranged for me. It was there. I was nervous even about putting the car in Reverse. This would be my first time driving a car without Daddy being on the passenger’s side, barking out orders. “Stay in your lane, Indi…. Start pumping your brakes before you get to the light…. Watch the car in front of you, and don’t follow so close behind.”

This time I was doing it all by myself, and the thought caused my hands to shake as I held on to the steering wheel. I backed out of the parking space slowly, carefully, and then pulled out onto Michigan Avenue just as carefully. I started pumping my brakes as I approached the stoplight and came to a complete stop. It wasn’t a smooth stop, and Sabrina and I jerked as the car eased just behind the white line. She had fallen asleep and didn’t even wake up when I swung the car around the corner much too fast. Instead of pressing the brakes, I accidentally accelerated and found myself in the middle of an intersection. Sabrina’s car collided with another car that was traveling in the other direction, and my head bounced against the steering wheel.

“What happened, Indi?” Sabrina asked, raising her head for just a moment.

“Sabrina, I hit somebody!” I yelled.

“For real?” she asked.

“Yes!” My heart pounded.

I jumped out and walked toward the other car. The woman driving seemed to be out of it, and there were two small children in the backseat. I didn’t know what to do. I knew that the police should be called, and maybe paramedics, too, but I couldn’t think straight.

“Indi, come on, we gotta go! We can’t stay here,” Sabrina yelled from her window.

“We have to call the police,” I told her.

“If we call the police, we’re going to jail,” she said. “Indi, come on. We gotta go.”

I couldn’t leave the woman there with her children, not knowing if she was all right. There was an awful feeling in my stomach.

“We have to make sure these people are okay, Sabrina,” I said.

“We’ll call the police once we get farther down the road. We can’t wait around for them,” Sabrina said. “You don’t even have a driver’s license. Do you want to spend the night in jail and call your father in Atlanta to come and pick you up?”

She did have a point. And as long as we sent help for the family, I was fine. I hopped back into the driver’s seat and fled the accident scene, Dugan’s car breezing through the South Side of Chicago.

Once in the apartment complex, I put the car in Park and sat there for a moment, just trying to get my breathing to an even pace. Sabrina and I stepped out of the car.

“Yo, Sabrina….” A familiar voice rang through the parking lot, and I turned to see who it was. Dugan walked toward us and wrapped his arms around Sabrina’s waist. His eyes found mine. “Y’all cool?”

“Hey, baby,” Sabrina said, and kissed Dugan’s lips.

“She’s been drinking,” I told Dugan.

“Indi, stop telling all my business. I’m straight,” she said, holding her Baby Phat purse close to her chest as if she had a million dollars in it.

“Come on, Sabrina, let me get you in the house,” Dugan said. He held on to Sabrina just to keep her from falling, and I followed close behind.

He opened the door to the apartment and ushered Sabrina inside.

“Did y’all have fun?” he asked.

“It was okay,” I said.

I didn’t bother to tell Dugan that we’d fled the scene of an accident. He didn’t know that I was so nervous at that moment I thought the world around me was going to collapse. I wanted to go back to see if that woman and her kids were okay. Once we had gotten farther down the road, I had called 911 and told them that an accident had occurred. I asked them to hurry to the scene because there was an injured woman with her children. When the operator asked me for my name, I hung up the phone.

Dugan took Sabrina into their bedroom, and I stood in the middle of the living room, wondering if my sleeping arrangements would be same as they had been the last time I’d spent the night. There were only two bedrooms in the apartment; one belonged to Sabrina’s baby, and the only bed in it was a crib. Dugan must’ve read my mind, because when he came back into the living room, he was carrying a blanket and a pillow.

“Welcome to the guest bedroom, Indi. This is all we got right now. You can sleep on the couch like before, or you can make a pallet on the floor.” He handed me the blanket and pillow.

“I’ll take the couch.”

I went into the bathroom and changed into my Victoria’s Secret pajamas, the ones with PINK written across the chest in white letters. I sat on the couch and pulled the covers up to my chin. When Dugan’s hands touched my shoulders, I thought I was dreaming. He began to give me a massage, pressing his fingertips into my shoulders. His lips brushed the back of my neck and I froze. When his fingertips began to wander toward my breasts, I jumped clear off the couch and stood.

Dugan moved toward me and pulled me close to him. He tried kissing my lips, but I turned my head, pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, holding on tighter. “Ain’t you feeling this?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are, Indi. I see how you look at me when Sabrina’s not around.”

“I see how you look at me.”

“Okay, so I’m guilty…. I think you’re beautiful,” he said. “Is that a crime?”

I didn’t answer.

“I want you, Indi,” Dugan whispered in my ear.

“No,” I said. “Please stop.”

“You know you want this.” He pushed me onto the sofa and pressed his body against mine.

He had me pinned down, and I couldn’t move; he was too heavy.

“Please stop!” I begged.

His mouth covered mine in an unwanted kiss.

“Dugan!” Sabrina’s voice startled me.

It must’ve startled him, too, because he got up and moved toward Sabrina, trying to explain his actions.

“Baby,” he said.

“What were you doing?” Sabrina asked Dugan.

“Teaching your little cousin here a lesson. She was all up in my grill, and I was tired of it. Ever since the barbecue, she’s been checking me out….”

I couldn’t believe he was saying all these things about me, making up lies. And Sabrina was standing there looking as if she believed him. I was furious. I wanted to slap some sense into her drunk behind and let her know that her boyfriend was a disgusting pervert.

I ignored their conversation and dialed my uncle Keith’s number. When I got his voice mail, I left a message this time. “Uncle Keith, as soon as you get this message, can you please come and pick me up from Sabrina’s? Please hurry….”

I walked out of the house and nobody even noticed I was gone. I found refuge on the back steps as I prayed for Uncle Keith to receive my message sooner than later. I thought of Marcus and wondered what he was doing. If he were here, he’d rescue me from this nightmare that I was in. He’d know just what to do. I was so busy trying to be a grown-up that I’d made all kinds of bad choices in one night. I realized that all I really wanted to be was a teenager again. I wanted to be sixteen, with a curfew and a boyfriend who loved me.

I dialed Marcus’s number for the first time all summer and hoped that he answered.