eleven

VIVIANA

When Toya got busted and I rushed out of the train station I was completely freaked out. I was totally paranoid that the cops would come chasing after me as well, which forced me to keep looking over my shoulder. I didn’t really feel as if I’d gotten away until I was on the bus heading back home. I rested my head against the window of the bus, closed my eyes and relived everything that went down. I felt bad about cutting out on her, but jail was the last place I wanted or needed to go. I figured Toya knew her way around the judicial system and would find a way out of the mess she was in. By the time I arrived back home I’d completely justified my actions. Because there was no way I was going down for a friend who’d, on that very same day, threatened to do me bodily harm.

When I got home, both my mother and Martin were gone. I was sort of hoping that my mother would be there because I could’ve really used someone to talk to. There were people I knew from other neighborhoods, but it had been a long time since I’d reached out to them. I suppose if I’d had a computer and an internet connection I could have gone online and talked to some anonymous person, but neither Martin nor my mother felt having a laptop was important.

Sitting in an empty and quiet apartment could drive even the most sane person crazy, so I decided to take another long walk to the beach to kill time and figure out what to do next. I had to come up with a plan for how I was going to convince my mother to break up with Martin and find us a place to live. If I couldn’t persuade her, then I had a backup plan of striking out and making it on my own. I figured that I was young, healthy and could do just about anything. I’d have to drop out of high school, of course, but that was pretty much a waste of time anyway. I had never fit in with any of the school cliques. I wasn’t popular. I wasn’t a cheery-o-cheerleader, and I definitely wasn’t the brainy type. The drug kids were cool to a certain extent. I mean, I could smoke weed with seasoned pros, but it wasn’t like I went out of my way to do it. The kids at my school and around my neighborhood were into everything from sniffing markers to doing methamphetamines, which made them act crazy as hell. Still, if I wanted to be honest with myself, I did sort of miss hanging out with them at house parties. One of these days I’d go back and make up for lost time.

I figured that if I needed money bad enough, I’d put on some dark sunglasses, pretend I was blind and stand on a street corner selling pencils. But I knew I wouldn’t have to go to the extreme. Fast-food places were always looking for help. I could work two part-time jobs and make it. Who knew? If I got lucky, by chance I’d meet a cool guy who was into helping birds like me who had a broken wing.

Finally, I arrived at the beach and just chilled out. I did my usual thing, stuck my toes in the sand and watched people. Then out of nowhere this stranger decided to strike up a conversation with me. I humored him because he looked like the cartoon character from The Boondocks comic strip. He tried to get me to give up my phone number, but I just wasn’t feeling the guy like that. Besides, he was way too short.

When I got back home, my mother and Martin were still not there. I was hungry, so I checked the refrigerator for something to eat. I was so glad to see a pizza box with several slices still left. I heated up the pizza and then sat down to watch television. I ended up watching a rerun of a program called Glee. I really liked the character Sue, who was a mean-spirited gym coach. I identified with her because she just didn’t give a damn about anything except her own interests. By the time the show ended, the sun had gone down and the streetlights came on. I was busy channel surfing, trying to find something else of interest to watch, when I heard someone on the sidewalk scream out my name.

“Yo, Viviana!” the voice yelled out. I crept over to the window and peeped downstairs.

“Yo, Viviana, I know you hear me, girl! I know your apartment is somewhere in the building.” It was Toya’s man, and he was holding his son. I raised up the window and leaned out.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Yo, girl, where Toya at?” he asked.

“She hasn’t called you yet?” I asked.

“Hell, no!” he barked.

“She got jammed up,” I explained.

He lowered his head and said, “Damn! Do you know where they took her?”

“No. I didn’t stick around for all that.”

“Okay, look, you’re going to have to hold on to Junior for me. I’ve got some business to take care of and I can’t leave him with his blind great-grandmother.” He tried to gain my sympathy, but there was no way I was about to take care of his son.

“I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby. You need to take him with you,” I said.

He threaded his eyebrows together and spoke more forcefully. “Come on, now. Toya told me y’all was tight. Why can’t you just watch him for me while I make this quick run?”

“Toya and I are tight, but not that cool. That’s your son. You should take pride in keeping him. My father took me with him everywhere when I was little like your son,” I said.

“I’ll bet he didn’t take you to the bathroom,” he snapped.

“That comment was way too ignorant to respond to. Later, man,” I said and tucked my head back inside the apartment. Just before I shut the window he saluted me with his middle finger. In kind, I turned my butt toward the window and smacked my fanny. He caught my drift the same way I caught his.

I sat up and watched television hoping to catch my mother when she came home. At five o’clock I finally gave up and went to bed. I had waited up all night on her and she never showed up.

“Viviana,” I heard someone whispering my name and shaking my shoulder.

“Leave me alone,” I grumbled and turned over in the bed. All I wanted to do was sleep.

“Get up,” the voice whispered. I then realized that it was my mother.

“No. Let me sleep. I stayed up all night waiting on you. Now you will just have to wait on me.” I closed my eyes tighter, hoping that I’d float back into a deep sleep. My mother yanked the bedspread off me.

“What the hell!” I opened my eyes and glared at her angrily. However, I quickly dropped my evil expression when I saw her bruised face. Her left eye was nearly closed shut, her lip was still bleeding, and the right side of her face was black-and-blue. I didn’t have to ask what happened. I already knew that it was Martin. I snatched both the knife and stun gun from beneath my pillow and sprang to my feet.

“Where is he?” I asked, gripping the knife tighter. I was ready to declare war on Martin.

“Viviana, we have to go,” she whispered.

“No, he can’t get away with this!” I was fired up and angry.

“Viviana, stop fighting me, please. Right now I just need you to come with me,” my mother desperately pleaded with me.

“We should at least call an ambulance and the police,” I said, wanting to help and make sure that Martin paid the price.

“No. I don’t want to deal with the police and I hate hospitals. They’ll ask too many questions, get social services involved, and you’ll end up in foster care somewhere until they can find housing for us. Just grab what you can and come with me.” I unenthusiastically gathered up my belongings and placed them in a large duffel bag while my mother watched. Once I had everything, I quietly walked out of the apartment with my mother. When we got outside she put on sunglasses to hide her wounds. We walked up to Martin Luther King Jr. Drive, where we hailed a taxi.

“Where are we going?” I asked once I got situated.

“To your grandmother’s house,” my mother answered.

“But you don’t get along with her. Will she even let us in?” I asked.

“She’ll always let us in,” my mother whispered. She gave the cab driver the address, then leaned back and rested her head against the back of the seat. I looped my arm behind her neck, cradled her shoulder and pulled her closer to me. I’d made up my mind that I was going to protect her. I wasn’t going to let anything or anyone hurt her anymore.

 

When my mother and I arrived at the doorstep of Grandmother Esmeralda’s home, I was as shocked as America was when Barack Obama won the presidency to see my goody-two-shoes cousin Maya. She looked at my mother and me as if we were beneath her, and that really pissed me off. Once we were inside, Grandmother Esmeralda removed my mother’s dark sunglasses and both she and Maya gasped at her bruised face.

“What happened to you?” Grandmother Esmeralda asked my mother.

“Nothing,” my mother answered. “It’s not that bad.”

“Have you seen yourself?” Grandmother Esmeralda asked. “What mean man have you gotten with this time? I swear, your father must be turning over in his grave. This is not the life he wanted for you.”

“Mother, I don’t need one of your damn lectures right now!” Salena said.

“Fine, I’ll fix you up and ask questions later,” Grandmother Esmeralda said.

“Viviana, are you hurt anywhere?” she also asked.

“No. I’m good,” I answered.

“Then visit with your cousin Maya while I fix up Salena. You guys haven’t seen each other in a long time. You should have plenty to talk about.” Grandmother Esmeralda took my mother by the hand and led her down the hallway toward the bathroom.

I looked over at Maya and sized her up. Her shoulder-length black hair looked a little messy, and she had a dumb-ass look on her face and her nose was scrunched up. She looked as if she smelled some foul dog crap. Her skin tone was smooth and even, and her clothes didn’t look shabby and outdated like mine. Everything about her demeanor said that she was a perfect princess and was appalled to see that the family peasants had arrived.

“If you don’t take that ignorant look off your face I’m going to smack it off!” I said, feeling the need to spit on her feet.

“What look?” she asked innocently.

“Stop pretending as if you don’t know what I’m talking about,” I said as I walked into the living room where the fireplace was. I walked over to the mantel and looked at all the photographs that Grandmother Esmeralda had placed there. I saw an old school photo of myself when I was in third grade.

“So, where are the other members of your royal family?” I asked, referring to her parents as well as her brother and sister.

“They’re not here. I came to visit for a little while.”

I looked over my shoulder at Maya.

“Well, isn’t that special. You came out of your castle to come and live among the common folk,” I said sarcastically.

“Like, what are you talking about? Are you trying to say that I’m like a snob or something?” Maya asked.

“Like a snob or something,” I mocked her words. I came across another photo, of Maya and me when we were about eight years old. We were dressed all in white and holding candles. I remembered the photo because my father had taken it. Maya sat down on the sofa positioned against a wall.

“So, what have you been up to lately?” she politely asked.

“You sound like a programmed Barbie doll. Just pull the string and you’ll ask the same dumb questions,” I spat.

“Look, if you don’t want to talk, I totally understand,” Maya said, once again sounding like the perfect princess, and it was really aggravating me.

“Shut up, Maya,” I commanded.

“Excuse me?” she said, clearly offended.

“Oh, did I hurt your little delicate feelings? You always were a prissy little sap, Maya.”

“And you were always a ghetto ’hood rat,” she fired back.

I knew I’d gotten beneath her skin.

“And proud of it,” I quickly responded. “So, what brings you down from your high tower to visit the common folk?”

“I don’t live in a high tower, Viviana,” she said. I took a seat in a chair in the opposite corner of the room.

“Yeah, whatever. So, what brings you down here? You and your family rarely visit.”

“Well, it doesn’t look as if you visit that often either,” Maya said.

“Trust me. I visit a heck of a lot more than you do,” I said.

“I wanted to spend time with Grandmother Esmeralda,” Maya said. But I didn’t believe the line of bologna she was trying to feed me.

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, I totally understand,” I mocked her once again.

“This conversation is going nowhere. You’re way too immature,” Maya whined as she rose to her feet to leave the room.

“Ha, that’s a laugh. If I remember correctly, you’re the one who tried to pretend that you were fourteen when you were only eleven because you liked that boy Ray who sang in the church choir.”

“Why are you bringing up old stuff? That happened years ago.” Maya acted as if she didn’t want to remember the time I was talking about.

“Oh, so you don’t remember that?” I asked.

“Like I said, that was a long time ago,” Maya said unapologetically. “So, what about all of the things I’ve heard about you?”

“You haven’t heard a thing about me,” I said, curling the corner of my mouth.

“I heard that you need professional help. It’s no secret that after your father died you attempted to kill yourself several times. What was that about?”

I got very angry with her, pointed my finger and squinted my eyes until they were nearly shut. “Don’t you ever talk to me about my father!”

“Why? He wasn’t nothing but a thug and a gangbanger.”

I rose to my feet and got close to her, and dared her to say something else bad about my father.

“What? I’m supposed to be afraid of you now?” Maya asked.

“You need to be because you never know what I might do.”

“You’d better back up off me.” Maya tried to play like she was a tough girl.

“Our day is going to come. You just better be glad it’s not today,” I said, stepping away from her.

“What happened to you?” Maya asked.

“The same thing that happened you,” I said, sizing her up once again.

“I said that I’m fine and I don’t want to go to the hospital!” I heard my mother fussing. I glanced in the direction of the bathroom.

“Are you going to go check on your mother, or are you going to stand here hating on me for no reason?” Maya asked.

“Oh, I have my reasons for not liking you and you know exactly what they are,” I said. Maya dropped her eyes toward the floor with guilty shame. “Yeah, I haven’t forgotten about what you did.” I reminded her of how she should feel at fault. In that instant, if my eyes had been laser beams, Maya would have been incinerated beyond recognition.

“How are you two getting along in here?” Grandmother Esmeralda entered the room. I didn’t say anything, but my murderous eyes were shouting. Maya finally broke the silence and tried to downplay the tension between us.

“Everything is fine—we’re just catching up.”

Grandmother Esmeralda chose to ignore the disquiet between Maya and me. She elected to smile at Maya before turning her attention to me. “Are you okay? Did you see who did that to your mother?”

“No,” I answered. “But I have a good idea of who did it.”

“Was it the security guard she was dating?” Grandmother Esmeralda asked.

“No, she broke up with him a long time ago. She has a new idiot named Martin who is responsible,” I said. “I swear before God, the next time I see him, he’s going to have to deal with me,” I said in my meanest voice.

“You will do no such thing, Viviana. Nor are you a match for a man. You will only get yourself killed.” Grandmother Esmeralda paused in thought. “I just don’t understand this thing she has with abusive men. She’s too old to have this type of problem.”

“People get beat down every day. Weren’t you the one who was always saying, ‘You’re never too old to get your butt beat?’” In some small way I got a twisted pleasure by making her eat her own words.

“Yes, but…” Grandmother Esmeralda stopped talking briefly. “Never mind, it’s not worth arguing the point.”

“Well, it is what it is,” I said, feeling my heart turning into stone.

“Your grandfather was the best father and husband in the world. He never raised a hand to me or his children. He loved us so much. If he were still alive, he’d be so hurt by this. I wish I could make Salena understand that love does not have a fist. I don’t understand why she is like that.”

“Well, apparently, she missed that lesson,” I spoke out sarcastically. Grandmother Esmeralda honed in on my negative attitude.

“Viviana, your mouth is filthy and it is going to get you into big trouble one day if you don’t clean it up. Why can’t you be more like Maya? She’s a good girl. She only makes little teenage mistakes here and there, but overall she’s a very respectable young lady. She doesn’t have such a bad attitude like you do. You could learn so much from her.”

I curled my lips into a sour frown when she suggested I become more like Maya. She was the last person I wanted to emulate.

“Are those your clothes in that bag?” asked Grandmother Esmeralda, pointing to my bag.

“Yeah,” I answered, glancing down at my old, dirty duffel bag. For a moment I allowed my thoughts to be seduced with the fantasy of hurling the sack of laundry at Maya’s head.

“When was the last time they were washed?” she asked.

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “I don’t know, but it’s about time for them to be cleaned.”

“Fine, take them down to the laundry room. You know where it is. There is plenty of laundry detergent down there,” Grandmother Esmeralda said as she exhaled and then collapsed on the sofa. She combed her fingers through her hair and then glanced at the ceiling. Maya sat next to her and hugged her in an effort to comfort her.

“What a suck-up,” I mumbled as I picked up my sack of clothes and headed toward the laundry room.