13
“Yeah, I told him not to be stupid,” one of the passengers on the bus shouted into her phone. “Shit, those COs will fuck you up just for looking at them wrong,” she continued. “But his ass gotta be a hard rock. Uh-huh, you got that right.” She sat directly in front of me, carrying on her conversation like she was sitting alone in her living room. Most of the other passengers were half asleep, drained from the experience of visiting their loved ones behind bars.
“Jesus Christ!” someone snapped, but the woman on the phone didn’t hear or she chose to ignore them.
“Bitch, I told you that I told him that. Ain’t you listening to nothing I said?” she hollered at the person on the other end of the phone.
“We all listening. You talking so loud we ain’t got no choice,” a woman responded to her comment.
“Well I was minding my business. Why don’t you mind yours?”
“Because you talking so loud you done made it mine. Hell, I can’t hear myself think you making so much damn noise.”
“Hold on,” the woman spoke into the phone.
“It’s just rude,” another person added.
“Some people don’t have no home training. Telling all their business,” one of the few men on the bus added. I got nervous, bracing for a full-scale revolt against the woman on the phone.
“I’ma call you when I arrive. These Negros acting all crazy.” She hung up to lots more comments and a few cheers. Aside from that incidence the ride home was uneventful.
The entire bus ride back I replayed the visit over and over in my head. It could have just as easily gone the other way with him rejecting me or not believing me, but none of that happened and now I had a father. Growing up I had craved a dad, someone to show me how to ride a bike and protect me from weirdoes.
“Not everybody gets a father. Some people don’t even have a mother,” my mom would always explain to me when I complained. After a while I stopped saying anything and kept the loss to myself. I didn’t want to make her feel bad that she wasn’t enough, because the truth was she could never be a father to me. It didn’t matter how many times people referred to her as both the mother and the father; I always knew the difference. When I’d see kids with their daddies I used to ache. It got to a point where I would pretend that my friends’ fathers were mine, but it wasn’t the same and I knew it. But now it appeared that I was one of those people who had a father; only he wouldn’t be taking me anywhere or spending quality time together with me.
D-Waite was waiting for me when I got off the bus. The big-ass smile on his face made me so happy. I’d texted him when I left the prison but I didn’t expect him to be there.
“Come here.” He opened his arms to embrace me. “You must be tired. So tell me everything. Did you see him?”
“Yeah, I did.” A smile broke out on my face. “I’m his daughter.”
“Really? No blood test? No drama?”
“No. He said that I look exactly like his mother did at my age.”
“Guess you’re not my favorite little orphan anymore.” He kissed me on the lips.
“As long as I’m still your favorite something.”
Instead of playing with me he grew serious and nervous, like he was keeping some secret and didn’t know how to tell me something. It was the same way my mom acted when she had to tell me she was sick.
“What? You’re making me nervous.” My stomach started churning.
“Call your aunt.” He held my hand. “Do it.”
I retrieved my phone and dialed the number. “Hi, Auntie.” I was so excited to share my news with her but her voice was shaky.
“Hey, baby,” she mumbled.
“You all right?”
“Fine, just tired.”
“You don’t sound so good. I’m coming home.”
“Nah, I’m . . . I won’t be here. I’m going out for a walk.” She slurred her words as she hurried off the phone.
I stared at D-Waite. “She sounded terrible.”
“She’s using again,” he told me.
“Are you sure? I mean how do you know?”
“One of my boys told me yesterday that she bought from him. I thought I fixed it.”
“What did you do?”
“I made sure no one would sell to her. Let’s get a cab.” We hopped a cab to Cumberland and got to Aunt Kim’s in about ten minutes. When we pulled up outside I saw Mika, Naynay, and the rest of their group hanging out on the steps of the next building. She stuck her middle finger up at me as we passed but didn’t say anything. D-Waite took my hand and led me inside the building. I was sure that didn’t buy me any points with those girls. We entered the apartment, which looked as if someone had tossed it searching for something. My aunt was nowhere to be found.
“Oh my God! What if something happened to her?”
“What did she say?”
“That she was going for a walk.”
“Let’s go.” D-Waite grabbed my hand and we hurried outside. He approached a couple of guys out front.
“Y’all seen her aunt?”
“Kim. She’s my height, brown long hair?” I pleaded.
“Crackhead Kimmie?” one of them asked, clearly familiar with her.
“Man, why you gotta go there?” D-Waite chastised the guy.
“Have you seen her?”
“She just went that way.” He pointed to the backside of the building.
“She on it?” D-Waite asked.
“If she ain’t then she about to be. She had the itch, man.”
“Gab, go back inside and wait for me.” D-Waite motioned toward the door.
I shook my head, refusing to budge. “I’m going with you.” I stood my ground.
“You can’t. You shouldn’t see this,” he warned me.
“Let’s go!” I took his hand.
“Shit! Fine, but this was not my idea.” He picked up the pace and led me around the back of the building across the street and down a block. As seedy as Cumberland was, this took it down to a much lower level. This was the skid row of Brooklyn. Homeless people were milling around, sleeping right in the middle of the block, drinking, and getting high. This appeared to be a lawless haven for debauchery and criminal activity. A young kid ran up to D-Waite.
“You holding, man? I’m wiped clean.”
“Fuck out of here!” D-Waite shouted at him.
“I got customers need some shit,” he pleaded.
“I’m clean, man. I can’t help you.”
The guy started to walk away.
“Wait. Bizzy, you seen a woman people call Crackhead Kimmie?” He glanced apologetically at me.
“Yeah, she went up there.”
“Shit!” He slapped his hands over his face.
“What?” I moved his hands from over his eyes.
“You don’t need to see what’s up in there,” he warned me again, but I took his hand and led him in the direction Bizzy had pointed.
The moment we entered the abandoned building the stench of stale vomit, feces, and urine overtook me. I had to cover my mouth to keep from retching my guts out.
“You a’ight?” D-Waite stopped me. “We can kill this whole thing.”
“No, let’s go.” I followed him down a long hallway, and up a rusty steel staircase. Along the way we passed sleeping bodies, shopping carts, and even a dog or two. I tried not to stare at the people as we passed them in order to respect their privacy but it was hard. Some were doing things in public that I wasn’t sure should have even been attempted in private. This was the very bottom rung of life and I couldn’t believe that my aunt had willingly come in here. D-Waite led me up two flights of stairs and down a hallway to a door.
“This is a shooting gallery. Where the heads go to get blazed up. It’s not gonna be pretty.” He tapped three times and the door opened. A short guy with dreadlocks opened his mouth wide, revealing a toothless smile.
“Dame. I didn’t know you made special deliveries. Set me up?”
“Nah, I’m just looking for someone.” He pushed past the guy into the room.
“But if you got some you want to get rid of I’m first. Okay? I’m gon . . . gon . . . gonna be first,” he stuttered behind us.
Everywhere I looked junkies were shooting up and nodding off all over the place. There were young, old, every color, people scratching their skin off; a few of the women were half naked, exposing dirty bras and breasts. A beautiful young girl was half naked, hugged up with a flashy pimp who looked old enough to be her grandfather. Just the sight made my skin crawl but I knew I couldn’t do anything to help her. We went through a couple of open doors and saw more of the same. We passed a door that was slightly ajar. I thought that I saw something so I stopped. D-Waite followed the direction I was looking and pushed the door open. There was my aunt, her blouse undone as a skinny guy in front of her felt her up.
“But I need it. I just got a little taste today,” she begged.
“Now you needy. Reason nobody wants to sell to your ass came from high up.”
Kim looked up, shocked to see us enter the room. The guy turned and that’s when I saw that his pants were undone. Her hand was is his pants. My aunt’s eyes got wide.
“Hey, baby! How you doing?” She moved her hands away from him.
“Aunt Kim, what are you doing in here?” I shouted at her.
“I was just visiting my friend,” she tried to cover.
“Dame, man, you got some stuff? I got a few dollars.” The guy pulled out a small stack of bills. D-Waite waved his money away.
Suddenly Aunt Kim focused on him. “This your friend, honey? Well I’m her aunt. Can you get my friend some of what he needs?” She was all jumpy and rubbing her arms.
“We have to get out of here.” He took on a sterner tone than I was used to hearing.
“But my friend. He needs a little fix. Not a big one. Just a little one. I mean I can give you the money. I got money but nobody will help me. I mean help him.” She was acting all manic and crazed.
“Let’s get you out of here.” He took her arm and led her out.
She grabbed on, clinging to him. “I can be real nice to you,” she purred.
“Aunt Kim. This is my boyfriend!” I snapped.
“Yeah, well he a man and a man needs a woman. Don’t worry. I ain’t trying to keep him or nothing.”
D-Waite leaned in, whispering in my ear, “It’s the drugs talking.”
By the time we got my aunt onto the sidewalk she had propositioned him four more times.
“What now?” I asked as he headed toward Cumberland. Junkies kept begging D-Waite for drugs.
“Back to your place.”
A big black SUV pulled alongside us and stopped. It was the same one that had violently taken D-Waite. Aunt Kim broke away and hurried toward the closed doors. The window rolled down.
“Hey, Poppa, how you doing? I don’t know what’s wrong. I got money and nobody will take it.“
“What?” a deep voice from inside the car barked.
“Yeah, like nobody.”
“Dame,” the voice shouted.
D-Waite let go of my hand and went over to the car.
“How come one of my favorite customers can’t get her hand on what she needs?”
“Yeah, how come?” Kim acted all big and bad, nothing like the aunt I’d gotten to know this last year.
“I don’t know,” D-Waite said, but I could tell he was lying ’cause his voice sounded terse.
“Fix it,” the voice snapped before the windows rolled up and SUV sped off. D-Waite looked worried.
“You can’t sell to her,” I whispered.
“Hell yes, he can,” she shouted, sounding pleased with herself.
“You promised my mother that you would stay clean. That you would take care of me. What happened to that?”
“I tried.” Her voice weakened.
“No, when Preston came around you started blowing off your meetings and just did everything for him.”
“I did not do everything for him. There were things he wanted me to do that I didn’t.”
“Like what?” D-Waite asked.
“Nothing. Just nothing. You gonna sell me some rocks or do I have to find Poppa and tell him you disobeyed his order?” She acted tough. D-Waite stared from Kim to me. I had no idea how this was going to resolve but if he gave her any drugs we were through.