Karma's a Bitch (12 page)

“Ooohh baby, do you need some more morphine?” Jenny asked as she upped his dosage. She reeled again at the thought of getting married. She was too far gone now – lost in her newfound fantasy. Reason and common sense were no longer playing a part in this situation. Jenny had been wanting to get married for too long to pass up this opportunity. Once she finished helping Tony, she started pacing the room as the thoughts raced through her mind.

“Wow Tony, I can’t believe this is actually happening so fast. So I guess I’ve got to get a dress, and book a church and tell the pastor at my church. I’ll get you the best tux out there Anthony, I promise you. The best money can buy. We’ve got to go get the marriage license first, and I need to do an invitee list. It can be something small and quaint.” She looked over at Tony with pure admiration in her eyes.

“Baby, you won’t regret this. I promise, I’m going to make you the happiest man in the world,” Jenny placed the card on Tony’s bandaged chest, closed her eyes and leaned over to kiss him on his bruised eyelids. 

“What the fuck is this?” Jenny heard an annoyed female voice ask from the doorway. She jerked up and met eyes with an angry face. Jenny did a quick analysis of the woman. She was pretty in the face, wasn’t fat, but was about two McDonald’s quarter pounders from busting the seams on the tight white t-shirt and grey sweat pants she was wearing. She had long micro braids and looked like she was about to flip out. 

Quanisha held her ghetto stance, crossed arms and all of her weight on one foot as she stared down the rail thin nurse that had just been kissing on Tony. “Just what the fuck kind of ‘service’ do ya’ll nurses be giving here? Why you got your lips on my man bitch?” 

“Your man? I don’t think so. This is my man, we’ve been together for over six months. And I don’t appreciate you calling me a bitch, you don’t know me.” Jenny frowned and tilted her head to the side for effect. She lied about how long she had known Tony, knowing now for sure that this woman was in fact Tony’s ex-girlfriend Quanisha. She was willing to do whatever was necessary to get Quanisha completely out of the picture while she had the chance. Tony had told Jenny a few things about his ex-girlfriend during their short time together. Jenny had been afraid that Tony had gone back to Quanisha when he left.

“What? Bitch, you trynna catch a thumpin’ up in here! What the hell you mean that’s yo man?” Quanisha made her way over to the side of the bed Jenny was standing on. She pushed Jenny back towards the wall and glared her down. “You better get your little Mary Poppin’s ass away from my man, I know that.”

She looked down on the bed and saw the card Jenny had placed there not five minutes before. 

“What the hell is this?” Quanisha asked. 

“That’s not yours!! Give me that!” Jenny protested as Quanisha held her back with one hand and read the card with the other.

“Whether you’re well or whether you’re sneezing, you’re the reason for my breathing’? Girl what the hell is this?” Quanisha couldn’t help laughing. 

“Stop it, that’s for Tony!” Jenny protested, but Quanisha just crumpled up the card and threw it in the corner. 

“Look little girl, I don’t know what kind of fantasy world you’re living in, but this is MY man. He don’t deal with no Sally Sunshine bitches like you. He need a real bitch in his life and that’s me. Only me. Got it? Now get the fuck out of here, and get me some of those sweet hospital peaches or somethin.’ I love those things,” Quanisha sneered as she pushed Jenny roughly towards the door. She then pulled up one of the hospital chairs and sat down next to Tony. She had already prepared herself for this sight, and he actually didn’t look as bad as she first thought he would.

“Tony baby, I’m here,” she said as she tried to grab his hand. Tony’s morphine had kicked in, and he was now completely unconscious.

All of a sudden out of nowhere, Quanisha felt a hard blow to her back and she leaned forward to recover. She turned around and there was Jenny, holding a heavy hospital phone. 

“Bitch is you crazy!!!” Quanisha yelled at the top of her lungs. She put her hands up in just enough time to shield herself from Jenny’s second attack.

Quanisha grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall. She stood up and slammed Jenny back against the same wall. Just as Quanisha was about to rear back and smack the shit out of Jenny, a husky black hospital security guard ran through the door and got between the two, pushing Quanisha backwards onto the bed. 

“What in the hell is going on in here? Nurse Storms?” he said in reference to Jenny. “There is a patient in critical condition here!” 

“This nurse bitch just tried to attack me with a phone that’s what!” Quanisha yelled, furious. She still had some blows to get in. 

“Is that true Nurse Storms?” the security guard asked. When Jenny, who was looking like a mad woman by then with her hair flying out of the bun in her hair, didn’t answer, the security guard instructed them both to follow him to his office. 

“But I’m here to see my man!” Quanisha protested, looking and pointing back at Tony, who was still slightly moving around on the bed. 

“Ma’am I said follow me!” the security guard commanded and started walking towards the door. 

Chapter 7

“What the hell do you mean you don’t got no money!??” Scoop’s wifey Shaquita screamed at the top of her lungs. She was definitely heard in the next apartment over.

“Baby…I… you don’t… listen—” Scoop struggled to find the words to put together. He was terrified of his girlfriend. At 5’11 with a solid stature, Shaquita could go toe to toe with most men. She could get very violent at times, and had a hair thin temper.

Once when she and Scoop first started dating, Scoop made the mistake of pushing her out of the way and telling her to “go on with that” when she innocently asked where he was headed. Before he could reach Shaquita’s doorknob, she had snatched him up from behind and slammed his face into the door so hard that his nose broke. Scoop learned soon after that that even though Shaquita could be the sweetest, quietest, most mild mannered woman at times, when you made her mad she came out of her shell swinging. Scoop worried that she might be bipolar or manic depressive.

“I don’t want to hear nothing you got to say out your slimy lying ass mouth! You know I was supposed to go shopping today!! I got Camille waiting at her house for me to pick her up! Now what am I gonna tell her!” Shaquita ranted. She was so close up on Scoop that he could see her tonsils as she yelled directly at his nose.

“Quita please, you ain’t giving me a chance to tell you what happened! I got robbed!” Scoop said as he backed up two steps.

“Oh is this your story? This is what you’re gonna tell me!! Camille is gonna be laughin’ at my ass, and the only story you can make up is that you got robbed!! Aaaaaahhh!!!” Shaquita lunged forward suddenly and pushed Scoop down into the arm of a nearby sofa chair. She caught him offguard. Before he had a chance to recover, she reared back and slapped Scoop so hard that he bit his tongue. Scoop hopped back up with his eyes watering and his face stinging around the outline of where Shaquita’s hand just was. He grabbed Shaquita by the arms to stop her from any more of the abuse. She writhed wildly in his grip, trying her best to reach her fingernails up to his face to scratch him. When that didn’t work, she stretched her neck forward and bit down on his nose with all of her power.

“Owwwwwwww!!” Scoop yelped as he finally let her go and got free of her teeth. He couldn’t believe that she had just bit him on the nose! When he grabbed it, he already knew it was bleeding, because he felt the blood droplets running down into his nostrils.

“That’s what you get motherfucker! Don’t you ever put your hands on me!” Shaquita ranted.

“You bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you! I was trying to explain, it wasn’t my fault! Some niggas robbed me and Tony!”

“Bitch? Oh I’ll show you a bitch, wait right there,” Shaquita said as she turned on her heel and headed for the kitchen. Scoop didn’t know what she was going in the kitchen to get—a knife, a pot, or the big turkey fork – but he wasn’t waiting around to find out. He hustled his way to the front door and shot out before Shaquita had a chance to reappear. As he ran down the steps of the apartment building he heard Shaquita yelling in the hallway.

“Scoop get your black ass back here! I swear if you don’t come back here right now Imma fuck you up real good when you come home! You better have my money!”

Scoop shivered a little as he finally emerged from the building and headed to his truck. He thought about why in the world was he still with this crazy female – he had over 10 women that thought he was
their
man running around the city. This type of violent episode happened way too often in their relationship. As soon as he climbed into his truck, he reached under the back seat to grab an old t-shirt he kept there and used it to stop his nose from bleeding. He hated to admit it to himself, but he was the victim of an abusive relationship that he just wouldn’t leave. He had battered man syndrome.

Scoop was aware that Shaquita knew all about his hoing around. There were way too many hang up calls at her house and short conversations when Scoop answered his cell phone for her to not be suspicious. But she hardly ever brought it up. She was one of those women that really didn’t care about her man cheating, as long as he was lining her pockets on a regular basis. But it was an unwritten rule that Scoop was never to bring any of his other women around Shaquita or stay out overnight. Those were the rules.

After three of Scoop’s other women got stomped in broad daylight from trying to approach Shaquita on the street about ‘their’ man Scoop, the word got around; ‘don’t mess with Quita.’ It wasn’t so much about a love thing for Shaquita as it was about flossing in front of her broke friends. She drove a white 2003 Infiniti Q45 courtesy of Scoop, who could barely afford the payments. She wore all of the top designers, and refused to put on anything that didn’t have an authentic brand name etched across the label. She owned over $10,000 worth of purses that she collected over the years from Scoop ranging from Gucci to Gharani Strok. Shaquita’s sole purpose for living was shopping, and if she went a week without going to her favorite mall, she went through withdrawal, usually at Scoop’s expense.

The problem was this. Scoop was going broke because of Shaquita and her habit. He could hardly afford to pay attention, and spent every moment outside of his flings working overtime to satisfy all of Shaquita’s desires. His job paid well, but not enough for Shaquita. So he had started selling drugs on the side. He had worked his way up to distributing to the lesser dealers on the block, and was trying to move up his position with the help of a dude he ran with on the streets who they called Rock. Rock was one of the only Puerto Ricans who had lived in the heart of that black neighborhood in Southwest Philly all his life. As a team they were doing enough sales to give the major players confidence in consigning them more and more weight at a time, but still only just enough to meet Shaquita’s needs. Scoop felt good about his current position on the streets, but was wary of Rock. Sometimes he didn’t trust him, and feared that Rock would get sick of splitting their profits two ways, especially since Scoop spent a lot less time on the block. It was no secret that Rock did more work than Scoop, and had even suggested on one drunken St. Ides Malt Liquored up occasion that Scoop should only get a 30% cut. That suggestion ended up in a brawl between them at the bar where they were drinking, and a night in lock up at the local police station. However, after sobering up they worked out the disagreement and the profits continued to be split in half for each of them. But now Scoop knew exactly what was really going on in Rock’s mind – a drunk mouth tells no lies.

Scoop’s mind wandered back to why he was still dealing with Shaquita as he drove past the Sunoco station at 45
^th
and Baltimore Avenue. Why? She wasn’t even the best looking out of all the women he messed with.

The truth was, he had found a comfort level with Shaquita that he just couldn’t achieve with any of his other chicks. With them it was all about the wild sex, but he loved to curl up in a warm bed with his Quita and just hold her. They had been together for eight years and there was no turning back now for Scoop. Shaquita’s presence filled a need within him that he didn’t even know he had. He was in love with her, and didn’t even know exactly why. She was both the poison and the cure.

Scoop had been headed to his number four girl, LaToya’s, house before he had those thoughts about Shaquita. Even though his nose was killing him, he softened as he thought about his wifey, and decided that instead of going to LaToya’s, he was going to go visit Tony in the hospital. It was only right. How could he even consider going to get some quick ass, when his best friend was laid up in the hospital. As he approached the threshold between Philadelphia and Lansdowne where his favorite Jamaican restaurant was located, he decided to stop there and get a large Jerk Chicken platter to bring in the hospital. He was tired, hungry and frustrated, and could only hope that Quanisha was not sitting by Tony’s bed. He didn’t need anymore drama from women that day.