Dime (8 page)

“Where'd you put my books?”

“What books?”

“My books. The ones I asked about this morning. I need them.”

She rolled her eyes. “You don't need books, Dime. What is books doing for you?”

“Where did you put them?”

“Didn't put them nowhere. Stop bothering me.”

“L.A., I need them.”

She reached out so fast, I didn't see it coming. The tears sprang out of my eyes before I even knew I was hit. Then she did it again. My head felt five sizes too big and my neck buzzed.

I tried to slap her back. I aimed for her face, but something interrupted my hand. The next thing I knew I was on the ground. Daddy was stepping down on my arm, pinning it.

“What did I tell you about bothering anybody on those books?”

I began to cry.

L.A. sucked her teeth. “God, you is such a baby.” She unbuttoned her top buttons and stepped over my body. She kissed Daddy good-bye and left. When she kissed him, she kissed him long, and he let her. She was showing off to make me feel worse.

Daddy lifted his foot off my arm. I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't. “Stop that fussing,” he told me gently. I tried. “Stop, I said.” He lifted me up.

He rested his forehead on mine. “I'm disappointed with you,” he whispered. Then he left too.

*  *  *

I stayed that night because I kept hoping he would come into my alcove and say that I was the best and the smartest and hug me and kiss me and stroke my face and reach his hand up under my shirt onto my skin and then down inside my new jeans. I knew he loved me but was just mad at me for stressing him out. He was taking care of me. Buying me clothes and feeding me. Giving me a warm place to sleep and to be safe. Not letting anybody bother me. I felt guilty. He had to take care of all of us. He didn't need me whining all the time. He needed me to stay quiet and not make trouble for him. I mattered to him more than the others. He was proud of me for being in school. He had big plans for me. He nursed my head and cleaned up my mess and he put his big, warm hand in my back pocket when he took me out for hot chocolate. He made my body feel so good and he held me so close, like the way a father holds his baby.

*  *  *

The next day I went to school again without my books. I kept my face quiet, like I always did, but inside myself I was so mad and scared, I could hardly think. I must have been thinking, though, because after the last bell rang, I went back to Janelle's.

“Who are you?” Janelle asked. But she hugged me. I didn't smell any Booth's, and she seemed like her own self.

She handed Sienna over, and I took the baby like I'd never been gone. “You got her back?”

“Her grandma died.”

We walked toward the couch and the TV, which was showing
Real Housewives
. “Where's your knapsack?”

“I left it in my locker.” Sienna nudged her little mouth on my chin and sucked.

“Vonna home too.” Janelle handed me the formula and held out a bag of Doritos. I took a few, popping them into my mouth over Sienna's soft head. “Her mama right back where she started.”

I looked around for Vonna, wanting to give her a squeeze.

Janelle saw me looking. “She around the block somewhere.” Vonna was only nine. She shouldn't have been around the block anywhere.

Jywon walked in wearing nothing but his boxers and square-framed glasses. Holding a glass of Coke and a blue Booth's. “Where you been?”

I didn't answer. Sienna's baby gums were hard. I lifted my chin away and stuck the bottle in Sienna's mouth. Jywon handed over the drinks to Janelle. Then he brushed by me and laid his fat palm on my butt for a second in a way that Janelle couldn't see.

“Stick around until the fifteenth.” She muted the TV and poured her gin. “Welfare coming to check up, and I can't have them keeping back your money. Sienna need a new coat and boots. Look at her. She growing fast.”

How was welfare going to keep paying her to keep any children if they caught her drinking at three in the afternoon?

“Janelle!” I heard somebody call from the kitchen. “Nell!” It was Earl. I hadn't thought he would still be here. My body clenched, hearing his voice.

“You look like you doing all right.” She eyed my boots and the sweater with the bell-shaped sleeves beneath my black puffy coat. I wasn't sure I understood. “Vonna got a school trip, and a tooth has to be pulled dental's not paying for.” She didn't sound unkind. Only matter-of-fact. She sipped. “So we need that money coming in for you.”

It was startling to realize I actually did understand. So startling that I guessed it was better not to think too much. Maybe not at all. I just kissed Sienna and put her and the bottle down on the floor. Then, for some reason, I hugged Janelle. Lightly, so as not to spill her drink. When I turned and walked out, we were both so surprised that neither of us said a word.

I went to the library until it closed. I looked around for Ms. McClenny, the way I always did in libraries, even though most of me knew that was foolish and even though I hadn't seen her since the last day of school in the third grade. I found a copy of
Macbeth
, but I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't stop thinking about Daddy. I left the library and walked to Dawn's, which was far. She hadn't ever invited me over, though, so I didn't have the courage to bang on her door. Trevor once said she was embarrassed about her mother, but he didn't say why. He had never been inside her house either. Instead I walked up and down Dawn's block until it had been dark a while. I was thinking about Daddy the whole time. Nobody bothered me. It was a good block. I sat on Dawn's stoop and slept sitting up. I dreamed about him hugging me close and stroking my head and slapping my face. When daylight came, I walked back to school and around the block a few hours until the doors opened. I circled the hallways until classes began. I smelled.

*  *  *

“You want that alcove and my bed?” Daddy asked. He was wearing things I'd never seen that looked brand-new: a Polo T-shirt and bright Nikes.

L.A. and Brandy were sitting on the couch still in their sweats, pretending to watch
Dr. Phil
. I was standing with my head down, just barely inside the door.

“Can't do it, Beautiful, less you got coins.”

I'd never given him anything in return for taking care of me, for feeding me and keeping me warm in his sleeping bag. I was embarrassed at how selfish I'd been.

“Ain't nobody live for free forever.”

I lifted my face a little to see Daddy shake his head kindly. Brandy didn't move her eyes from the television, but L.A. glanced over with a smirk on. He had even bought me all those new clothes and my first new warm coat.

“Don't worry about them clothes.” He smiled a little, reading my mind, and letting me know he was glad to see me back. He had missed me. I knew he had. “Those was a gift.”

I looked down at my jeans and gray sweater and soft T-shirt. I was so dirty now.

“L.A. and Brandy going to take you out later and show what you can do.”

“She still going to school?” L.A. asked.

“Shut up,” Daddy told her.

L.A. shut up.

“You got any questions?” Daddy asked me. “This the last time I'm a ask.”

“Can we talk in private?”

He smiled. L.A. frowned. Brandy raised the TV volume.

He took me into his room.

“I know what you want.” His voice was a soft rumble. He wasn't angry. He missed me.

I knew I needed a shower and to brush my teeth. I knew my hair was a mess. I was afraid to go too near him the way I was, so I just stared at him.

He came close and didn't even care what I smelled like or how I looked. He kissed me with those lips and with his tongue. Long. So long. “I wish I could give it to you right here, right now.” His voice stayed quiet, and he kept his head close to mine while he talked. “But it ain't fair in the household. You got to bring in those coins first.”

I didn't move, hoping he would kiss me like that again, hoping he would hold me. I knew I should have some questions, but I couldn't think of any over the hoping.

“Do what those bitches tell you to do,” he whispered. “Make me my money.”

He kissed me long again and sent me back to the alcove. My knapsack was on top of the sleeping bag. In it I found all the books. At first I was relieved. But then I thought to open them up. Torn paper. Old tea or coffee and raspberry jam staining the ink. Pages sticking together and pages missing.

Brandy came over, pretending to look for something lost. “I would have told you L.A. is not trustworthy for nothing.” She spoke quietly with her back to me. “But L.A. the type you got to figure it out for yourself.” She rummaged around, not looking at me on purpose. Which was kind.

I WAS DOLLED up in high-heeled silver boots I'd never seen before. L.A. said Satin used to wear them. They had me in the pale-pink bra and a white tank undershirt and a black miniskirt. It was late February, and I was cold in those clothes. Freezing. Daddy drove off in his gold Honda while darkness began to wrap itself around the air so it was hard to see the uneven sidewalk. I kept stumbling. The high heels or the dark or maybe all of it made me feel as if I was in chains.

The strangest thing was that, as I stumbled behind L.A. and Brandy, I had a memory. I don't know why. Maybe it was something about the clothes. Or the smell on these streets, which was different all of a sudden: old Doritos and cigarettes and beer. I'm not sure why the memory appeared like it did. Somehow, it was just ready to come out from hiding: the person who used to rock me and read to me wore a watch. Every time she turned the pages, that watch scratched my left shoulder a little. Not a hurt scratch, but a tickle scratch. Her watch would scratch me and her breath would be just behind my ear because my head was backed up into her chest, her chin resting on my hair. I could feel her softness. I could smell those barbecue chips.

“Here,” L.A. told me. “Along here.”

Remembering the watch, I had forgotten where I was for a minute: following L.A. and Brandy in clothes that made me feel like Halloween. It was a bad street. All broken lights. Abandoned lot here. Two low houses with plywood windows there. Three storefronts with the metal gates pulled down. One bodega lit up and open; a box of harsh glare in the middle of dark. One block, two blocks, three blocks, four blocks, then we crossed. And back again. Sometimes we walked in the street. Sometimes the sidewalk. The other girls I saw were dressed up like Brandy and L.A. and me. Short skirts. High heels. Halter tops or low-cut sleeveless, even though it was freezing out. Freezing. A few girls had coats with furry collars, but the coats were as short as the skirts. Cars were driving by. For such a run-down area, it was busy.

“What you got?” A man slowed down next to us, head out the window of a sports car I didn't know the name of.

“You take him,” Brandy mumbled to L.A.

He heard her and laughed. “I want you.”

Brandy spoke to L.A. “Twenty minutes.”

“Hundred, minimum,” L.A. answered.

“Yeah.” Brandy nodded.

“What?” I said.

“Hi, baby.” Brandy slid into the man's car. He drove away.

“Don't look so stupid,” L.A. told me. For once she didn't sound mean. She sounded tired. “You got to keep moving,” she explained. “Unless a john stop you. Then you talk fast, act fast. Daddy don't want us wasting time. They get out and you take them over there somewhere.” She pointed over to the lot. “Or there.” Around the corners of two brick buildings. “You can take them two blocks thataway. Room eleven is ours. But you got to be fast and come out quick. Faster not lying down. Cleaner, too.”

Do I really have to?
I should have asked.
Is there anything else
I could do instead?
Maybe I could sleep on the kitchen floor. Maybe I could turn around and walk home and just being near him would be enough, even if he never held me again.

“Just do it,” L.A. said. “Get the money, bring it to Daddy, and then keep walking and do it again.”

I looked around. “Daddy's here?”

“He come around every little bit. You give him the coins. Nobody else.”

Make me my money.
That smile with the gold
D
. I wanted that smile from him.
I can't be with you like that if you don't start contributing to the household.
The feel of his arm on my shoulders and his hand in my back pocket.
You special.

“Don't look at no pimp. Step off the curb onto the street if one of them come by: pimps up, hos down. It's only Whippet and George and Stone. Don't never get in a car with none of them. Don't speak to none of them. Whippet going to try, but you cross the street and keep your head down.” She pulled something out of her bag. “Here.” She held out her hand.

“What?”

“Rubbers, girl. Now get yourself together. God. You act like you don't know nothing.”

I stared at them.

“If they won't wear them, you charge double. Daddy going to count those, so your math better be good.” She counted them out. “Five. I'm giving you five. Right?”

I knew how they worked because Daddy used them most of the time.

“Right? Five.”

I nodded.

Another girl walked by with her friend. L.A. nodded at them. They nodded back and kept walking.

“Those bitches is trouble,” L.A. told me softly. “They Stone's. He keep them drunk and high. Daddy don't want none of us messing with that shit. You say hi to them and don't say nothing else. Just move on.”

I could turn around and walk home and sleep on the kitchen floor and just be near Daddy. Without him taking me or holding me so close, so tight, afterward. “But I'm not doing this.”