Booty Call *69 (31 page)

It’s been a week since the pastor asked me that question, but I’ll get back to that later; I think I hear someone out front.

I arrive at Jakim’s house and contemplate if I should go ring his doorbell. My heart is vigorously pounding against my chest. I take a deep breath and exhale. I feel my emotions get a little out of control as I wonder if he has company. I’m starting to have visions of Jakim loving another woman. I mean, he has the right to. And I can’t blame him if he curses me out and slams the door in my face, shutting me completely out of his life. That would hurt a lot. But right now I just want him to hold and comfort me. I want to apologize and tell him that I still love him, and that he was right about all of the things he said about Tyrone.

I remember when he asked for a second chance with me. It’s so ironic how I’m now standing in front of his house about to ask him for a second chance.

I take another deep breath, calming my nerves, and then slowly walk up to his door. I ring the bell and wait….

I hear the door being unlocked. It seems like everything is going
in slow motion, and I feel like my life is at a standstill. I lower my eyes and when I focus them back on the front door, I see Jakim standing in his doorway. Neither of us says a word. I wait for something vulgar to escape his lips.

Suddenly all of the pain and agony I suffered over the past weeks starts to build up. My eyes dampen, and I feel cold and start to tremble. I want to scream, but a lump is stuck in my throat. A tear escapes from my eye and trickles down the side of my face. “Jakim, please hold me,” I beg.

I realize that my love is still here with him. I’ve been away from him for far too long, doing the wrong things with the wrong men. Now I’m pregnant, scared and hurt.

I’m crying so hard that I feel like I’m going to pass out. “I’m so sorry, Jakim, I’m sorry.” I apologize over and over.

Jakim wraps his arms around me. His embrace is strong as he nestles my head against his chest. “It’s okay, Shana, everything’s going to be okay,” he assures me. I feel his forgiveness as he comforts me in his arms. This is true and unconditional love, and I plan on being here for a long time.

Jakim and I are officially back together. I’m six months pregnant and starting to look like a fuckin’ mountain. I’ve gained thirty-five pounds, my face is fat, and my ankles and feet are so swollen that I can’t fit into any of my old shoes. After taking three sonograms, the doctor assured me that I’m having a boy. I’m bringing a little boy into the world.

Not knowing who my baby’s father is still haunts me. Jakim knows that Tyrone could also be the father. I haven’t told him about Danny; I don’t have the courage to. But he says he’ll still be there for me no matter whose child it turns out to be.

I pray every night that this baby is Jakim’s. He says it doesn’t matter, but I know that deep down inside him, it does. I mean, it wouldn’t look right for him to be raising Tyrone’s child, being that they’re enemies now. They can’t even walk down the same block without an argument and some kind of fight ensuing between the two of them.

Tyrone is out on twenty-thousand dollars bail, and living life like he’s not looking at serious time. Chinky is being held in Rikers with a fifty-thousand-dollar bond hanging over her head. Tyrone isn’t even man enough to go and try to bail her out, and it sickens me to think that I actually thought I was in love with him. I now see that he does nothing but use and abuse the women in his life. And whenever the thought comes up that I might be pregnant with his baby, I cry so hard that I get a headache.

Right now I feel like I’m about to have a serious breakdown. Jakim tells me to keep my head up and stay on the positive side. I try and try, but until I finally find out who the father of my child is, I feel that I’ll never be at ease. And truth be told, if it wasn’t for Jakim sticking with me from day
to day, I wouldn’t have come this far. He’s truly been there for me mentally and physically. We’re even attending Lamaze classes together.

But you know, in this age—and in my neighborhood—when something positive finally happens in your life, or
with
your life, there’s always some fool out there crashing your walls down on you, or at least trying to.

It’s the first week of June, and the temperature has hit a high of ninety-eight degrees. I have two burdens: the unbearable heat and being seven months pregnant.

I’ve moved back in with my mother, and we’re both moody, gassy and fat. My Aunt Tina finally moved out a few weeks ago. She shacked up with some old boyfriend of hers, who’s out of prison and hustling again.

I’ve been up in the house for the past two weeks, and I can’t wait to see Jakim tonight. He promised to take me out to a movie and dinner at this new restaurant in Valley Stream. He’s still at work at FedEx, where he’s been employed for about a month now.

I’m in my room with the stereo tuned to WBLS, rubbing my belly and trying to keep my thoughts positive and my head up high. It takes me a minute to realize that my phone is ringing. I quickly rush over to answer it, hoping that it’s Jakim calling. “Hello?”

“What’s up, Shana?” It’s not Jakim, but I recognize the voice instantly.

“What do you want, Tyrone?” I ask, nervous about him calling.

“What, you don’t call no more? You out there carrying my child and don’t even check me?” I get quiet. Just hearing him mention that I’m carrying his seed starts stirring up my emotions again. “I’m hearing
stories that you’re back with Jakim. What, you think you just gonna leave me for him that easy? Bitch, you fuckin’ owe me!” he angrily shouts.

“Owe you? Fuck you, after the shit you done put me through…fuck you!” I shriek.

“Oh, so it’s like that? After I done looked out for you, had you staying up in my crib, and bought you tons of shit, you think you gonna just play me like that?”

“You looked out for me!” I angrily reply. “I’m sorry that I ever got with your trifling ass! You were nothing but trouble from the day I met you!”

“Bitch, you
are
sorry, and you ain’t nothin’ but a ho! I’m gonna see that ass soon—you and that punk niggah, Jakim.”

I get scared, knowing the things he’s capable of doing. “Tyrone, why can’t you just let us be?”

“Nah, that’s my seed you’re carrying. I told you—we’re forever. What, you thought I was gonna get locked up ‘cause cops raided my crib? Bitch, I’m gonna check you soon. You best believe that!” he hollers before hanging up.

Still holding the phone to my ear, I feel like I’m about to break down in tears. I’m frightened, and I don’t know what to do. I slam the receiver down and drop to my knees.
What am I going to do?

Later on in the evening, Jakim proposes to me for the second time. I feel like the luckiest woman on earth. He says that everyone deserves a second chance. Then he hits me with something I never heard him say before. “Let’s leave here,” he says.

At first I think he means ‘leave here’ as in just leaving Queens, but he wants to leave New York for good. He wants to move me and the baby down South. His cousin has a two-bedroom apartment in South Carolina
that we could rent out for dirt-cheap. He also has a job lined up that pays up to fifteen dollars an hour. I’m all for it. I tell him we should go for it; it’s definitely a good idea.

Sometimes I wonder why certain things happen to certain people. Why are some people blessed with good looks and charm, and others are cursed with disfiguration and ugliness? Why are some folks born wealthy and others are born so poor, living in the most dilapidated places, growing up in neighborhoods where some folks wonder how they can call it their home? Why do some women find
Mr. Right
, and other women are cursed with being abused and mistreated throughout their entire lives? Why are some men blessed with big dicks, and the other less fortunate ones can’t keep it up any longer than five minutes? Why are some children growing up today without a mother or father to shield them from so much harshness, hate and bitterness? And my million-dollar question is: why can’t something good happen to me for once without pain and suffering being soon to follow?

It’s Thursday night. Naja calls me as I rest in bed. By the somber tone of her voice, I know I’m not ready for what she’s about to tell me.

“Shana…Jakim’s been shot.” I swear my heart just stopped, as I lay there holding the phone tightly to my ear. I start to breath heavily, and I begin gasping for air.
No, this is nothing but a bad dream,
I try to tell myself. “THIS IS NOT H-A-A-A-P-P-E-E-E-N-I-I-I-I-N-G!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I pass out and go into early labor.

I gave birth to a premature, four pound, two-ounce baby boy two months early. I named him Jakim Junior. He’s my world. The doctor assured me that he’s going to be fine, though.

My mother visits me in the hospital frequently along with my aunt and some of my friends, including Naja and Sandra. They bring me flowers, balloons and cards. But nothing can cheer me up after Jakim’s death. He was gunned down.

I’m taking his death real hard. I tried to imagine him being by my side when I was in labor, but that made it more difficult for me to get through the delivery. After pushing my son out, I cried for hours and hours. The nurses tried to cheer me up; they bought me gifts, made me visit my son from time to time, and they even broke hospital rules by sometimes letting visitors in after hours.

Having Jakim Junior sometimes eases the pain of Jakim’s death. At times I’ll hold his tiny, frail body in my arms, comforting and talking to him, and I convince myself that Jakim is the father. I search for similarities in their features, but Jakim Junior is really too young to determine that right now.

They’ve arrested two guys in connection with Jakim’s murder. Naja somberly gives me the details of what happened the night he was killed.

She says they were at a club having a good time, and Jakim was buying them drinks at the bar. She says Tyrone walked in with his entourage of thugs, and then a confrontation took place that resulted in them all trying
to jump on Jakim. But the fight was quickly broken up, and Tyrone and his crew were thrown out.

Jakim was really upset and Naja suggested that they leave. They did, and they ran into Tyrone and his crew, who’d been waiting for him to come outside, where three guys instigated the beef again. A scuffle broke out on the street and Naja says she tried to help him, but they beat on her, too. Then she heard shots fired and saw Jakim sprawled out on the ground. “I’m sorry, Shana,” she says crying uncontrollably. “I’m so sorry…he’s gone, he’s gone.”

When I first heard that Jakim was dead, I wanted to die, too. I contemplated suicide. Luckily for my son, I had the strength to move on, even though I was still hurting deep down inside.

The thing that made me furious was when I heard that Tyrone was-n’t being charged for Jakim’s murder; the D.A didn’t have a stable case against him to charge him with homicide. I didn’t understand how that could be. Tyrone had a motive. But then I realized that he’s manipulative, conniving and has the gift of gab. He’s smart; he gets other people to do his dirty work for him.

It’s hard to believe that I was once head over heels in love with the man, ready to spend eternity with him. Now I hate him with a passion, so much, in fact, that I actually think about buying myself a gun to go and blow his muthafuckin’ brains out. I really want to, for Jakim. Tyrone had him killed, and now he’s getting away with it.

I build up enough strength to attend Jakim’s funeral. Doctors warn that I shouldn’t, but I have to. Naja picks me up from the hospital, and I get dressed over at her house. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” she asks me. I nod. I have to be. I have to pay my respects to Jakim.

The funeral home is packed. I can tell by all the vehicles out front. Jakim’s mother flew in from California. She’s overcome with grief and sorrow. And as soon as I step into the building, I, too, am overcome with grief and sorrow. Naja takes notice and asks me again if I want to go through with this. I nod, and we proceed on to the viewing.