Yellow Ghost: La Femme Selita Prequel (2 page)

Mrs. Murphy slowly stood up straight.

“I will let you know if we need another little one. I’m thinking the next one should be about thirteen.”

Mrs. Murphy didn’t say anything. She just walked away with the big mean man, Antonio I think Mae called him. I watched them until I couldn’t see them anymore.

“Selita, Selita, come with me so you can met your new daddy.” Mae said with a smile. I guess she didn’t know that I never had an old daddy. I followed her closely. She was wearing these really high heels. All her big butt jiggled when she walked. It looked like Jell-O. It was really very funny but I knew I shouldn’t laugh. I was going to be on my best behavior. Be a good girl, that’s what Mrs. Murphy said.

We walked further to the back. We walked down a hallway. We passed a ladies bathroom and a men’s bathroom. Mae knocked on a door and then opened it. A Chinese man was sitting behind a large desk. His hair was black and he was wearing a suit like the one my granddad wore at his funeral.

“Mr. Dragon I have your new little girl.”

Dragon? What kind of name is Dragon? The Chinese man looked at me.

“This is Selita. You wanted Martika’s girl and now you got her.” Mae said.

“You know she owes me money.” He knows my mother.

“I know you’ll never get it back.”

“That’s why I have the kid.”

“You paid for her. That’s more money out of your pocket. Martika gonna put you in the po’ house. You always letting that trick ass bitch slide. You--”

The Dragon man raised his hand and Mae stopped talking.

He looked at me. “Hey you, Selita. How old are you?”

I could barely understand him. He talked funny just like in those Chinese cartoons.

“Do you hear me girl?” He leaned over his desk and looked at me real close.

“Yes sir. I’m six. I will be seven on October eighth.”

He laughed at me but I wasn’t sure why. “Listen to little Miss fancy pants.”

I was wearing a pretty blue dress, not fancy pants. I don’t understand this Chinese man.

“Yes sir Mr. Dragon, she has manners.” Mae in her little tight dress said to him.

“These perverts don’t care about her manners.”

“True. Do you think she’s too young?”

“Um maybe but some of these sickos like them like that. I could fetch a good price for her.”

“You bought her just so you could sell her? Whatever.” Mae smacked her lips.

“Business is business. In a few years she will fetch a hefty price.”

“I don’t want any parts of no babies She so damn young. I believe in heaven and hell.”

“I will pay your way into heaven.” He laughed.

“You’re so generous but I don’t think anyone has touched her. She looks innocent. Well that’s what Diane said.”

“It doesn’t matter. Someone will break her in.”

Everything they said I didn’t understand. I wanted to ask him so I did. “Are you my new father?”

He laughed again. “Yes little girl. I’m your new father. You must obey me at all times.”

“Okay.” That shouldn’t be hard. I’m a good girl most times.

There was a knock on the door while I stood there.

“Come in.” Mr. Dragon said.

A white man with long hair and a lot of tattoos walked into the room. “Mr. Dragon.”

“Did you find Misty?”

“Yes boss she’s locked up in the basement. What do you want me to do with her?”

“I’m done with her. Dump her somewhere public so I can teach the other girls a lesson. Stealing from me will not be tolerated.”

“Sure thing.”

“Wait. I need to get one last look at her. She needs to see me before the end.”

“Sure boss.”

Mr. Dragon got up from his desk and walked to the door. He turned back and looked at me. “You stay put little girl.”

My name is Selita, not little girl. “Yes sir.” I said.

“Stealing won’t be tolerated. What about Martika’s dusty ass.” I heard Mae mumble.

They left me alone in the room. Mae went with them. The door stayed open but I felt alone. I wonder if he likes me. I wonder why Mrs. Murphy didn’t give me to a black family. I don’t know what color Mae is. I thought she was Black but now I don’t know. She doesn’t look Chinese. Maybe she speaks Spanish. Is she Mr. Dragon’s wife?

I walked around the room and tried not to touch his stuff. I went behind his desk and sat down in his big chair. My feet didn’t touch the ground. I swung them back and forth like I always do when the chair is too big for me. I grabbed the edge of his desk and pulled myself closer.

I wanted to open the drawers on his desk. If I did, he wouldn’t know. I wasn’t going to take anything. I was just going to look inside. I opened the top drawer. There was a big black gun right there next to the stapler. I stared at it but I would never touch it. I hate guns. My Mama hates guns too. She really hates knives. I hope I got to see her again. I hope she’s okay. I hope she’s not too sad without me. I miss her so much.

I didn’t notice Mr. Dragon when he walked back in the office. His footsteps were so quiet. I will have to remember that.

“What are you doing?” I heard him first.

“Nothing.” He scared me.

He walked around his desk and was standing right by me. I hopped out of his chair.

“Have you been messing with my things?”

“No.” I lied. He was mad.

“Selita, are you lying to me?”

“Yes. I saw you were adding these numbers and putting them in this book. I followed the pattern and filled in the missing answers. The column right here that says B was wrong. The numbers didn’t match when I added them. I added them twice to make sure. I erased them and then I fixed them.”

“Move!” He pushed pass me. He sat in the chair and grabbed his glasses off the desk. He put his glasses on the tip of his nose and he looked at all my numbers. “Did you use the calculator?”

“No that’s cheating.”

His eyes got really small. I couldn’t see his eyeballs anymore. “Selita, do you know what a cock is?”

“Ah I’m not sure. I think it’s a male chicken, a rooster.”

“Huh, do you know what a dick is?”

“I think it’s what they call a detective in the movies. Is it the police?”

“Do you know what a penis is?”

“Yes it’s what boys pee out of?”

“Have you seen one?”

“Yes I’ve seen one in a book at the library. My Mama used to drop me off there sometimes, a lot of times. Sometimes I would walk there by myself when she would have a man over at our apartment.”

“So you can read?”

“Yes. Can’t everybody read?”

He laughed at me. “Most people can.”

“I want to learn other languages so I can talk to everybody.”

“Really, what languages do you wish to learn?”

“Spanish, French, and Chinese. Can you could teach me Chinese?”

“Chinese people speak Mandarin. I’m not Chinese. I’m Japanese. I could teach you to speak Japanese.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I thought you were Chinese.”

“A common mistake for presumptuous Americans. You, my flower, I think you may be a smart little girl.”

“I was the smartest one in Mrs. Wilson’s first grade class. That’s what she said to the lady that came to put me in foster care.”

“I’m not sure you’re the right girl for me.”

“Are you going to send me back to foster care?” Thinking of foster care made my tummy hurt.

“No I will not send you back. I already paid for you.”

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I want to be a lawyer so I can help people that get in trouble with the police.”

He laughed. “I’m quite sure I will eventually be one of those people.”

I didn’t understand what he meant but I smiled because he was smiling at me.

“But sometimes I want to be a doctor so I can help sick people and give them the drugs they need to get better.”

“Yes my flower. Everybody needs drugs to feel better.”

I don’t know about everybody but my mother sure needs drugs to feel better.

It took a long time but we finally got into Mr. Dragon’s big black car. Someone else drove and we sat in the back. It took forever to get to his house. It was far away from the Fantasy FunClub.

His house was big and clean. There was green grass everywhere. It was nothing like the small apartment I shared with Mama. He had people that worked inside his house, people that cooked and cleaned. I think I will like it here. I think I can sleep without nightmares. I don’t think anyone is going to try to get me.

Someone drove me to school everyday. I eat whenever I wanted. I never asked for anything but I get everything I ever wanted and more. The man they all call Mr. Dragon is now my Father. He calls me his little flower. He tells me I’m smart. He tells me he loves me. I think I love him too.

10 YEARS OLD

Martika Hilton is dead. I stopped calling her Mama a long time ago. The name Martika fit her better. I realized what a terrible mother she was as soon as I started eating on a regular basis. I hated thinking about her, Martika. She’s dead so now I don’t have a choice. She left me to do drugs and have sex with her men. She cared more about the drugs than she did her own kid. I hated her for it. I hated the way she loved all mind-altering substances. Thinking of her made me angry. Maybe now my anger will dead when she is put in the ground.

I refuse to cry for her. I’m not going to shed one single tear. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. I had only seen her a few times since she let me be taken into foster care. Now I have no blood relatives left. My granddad is dead. My grandma is dead. My Ma-, Martika is dead.

My father made me come to see her body at the funeral home. He is paying someone to bury her. He said she doesn’t have any relatives. I’m her only living relative he tells me. I already knew that.

He said the county would have burned her body if he didn’t claim her. He said she deserves a proper burial. I say who gives a shit.

Why would he want to claim a prostitute junkie? I wouldn’t. Why does he even care about her at all? I wonder why? I really did wonder. She probably did some of her nasty hoe tricks on him.

Father and I were the only ones seated in the quiet funeral chapel. We sat for what seemed like forever. Mae marched in and looked into Martika’s casket. I knew she knew my mother but she always acted like she didn’t like her. So what is she doing here?

Mae was dressed in a long black dress. This was the only time I saw Mae covered on top. She barely wore any clothes. Her boobies were always sticking out but today she was dressed like my grandma. Back when grandma was alive and took me to church. I miss my grandma and granddad. I just don’t miss Martika.

This strange lady’s dead body was lying there in the casket in front of us.

She didn’t look dead. She looked sleep. She looked frozen. She was dressed in all white. My Father picked the dress. I saw it hanging in our house yesterday. I wonder why he cares about Martika. I don’t. She died a long time ago as far as I’m concerned. I don’t need a mother. I have a father. I have my Dragon.

“You need to say goodbye to your mother.”

I felt my eyes squint. Did he really expect me to walk up to that casket and look at her?

Father scolded me with his eyes. “Talk to your mother. This is the last time you will see her. Tell her whatever you need to say. This is your last chance.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder. That meant get off your butt. I stood. What would I say to her? I could say I hate you. I could ask her why she let them take me? I could…

I hadn’t realized my feet had carried me to her casket. I could see her up close. She was still very pretty but her skin was gray. Her hair was shiny and longer than I remembered. I fought the urge to cry. Why would I cry for her? She would never cry for me.

Crying is a sign of weakness. I don’t know why I feel this way but I do. One tear escaped before I could contain it. Father couldn’t see it. There will not be another. I refuse I shed another for her.

Why is my heart beating so fast? I need to go sit down next to father but I can’t move. My legs feel heavy. I hate you Martika! I hate you Martika! I’m just glad my Father can’t hear me cuss you in my head.

It’s getting harder and harder to remember the good times. She would take me for ice cream. She would bring me books. She would sing to me when she gave me baths. That’s only if the water was working. She had a beautiful voice to match her beautiful face and that was probably the problem.

Why did Martika have to do drugs? I will never ever do drugs. I will never be a hoe. I will never be anything like Martika. I am no longer a Hilton. That name means nothing to me. I want to be a Hiroshima.