Memoirs Aren't Fairytales (12 page)

Katy hadn't left my side. She'd held my hand through the exam and blood test, and when the police officer asked me questions. Now she sat behind me on the gurney, rubbing my head and pulling out twigs and leaves that had nested into my hair.

The doc opened the blue curtain that separated my gurney from the others and closed it once she entered. She was reading from a clipboard.

“Your blood tested positive for Rohypnol,” the doc said.

Rohypnol, like the date rape drug?

She set her clipboard on the table and sat on the stool she used for the exam, but wheeled it next to me. “Two different types of sperm were found during the internal exam,” she said and paused like there was more. “And we found traces of lighter fluid on your skin.”

Katy wrapped her arms around my chest. I went to move and the IV stopped me, tugging at my arm. I ripped it out. Blood dripped from where the needle was. “What, what does all that mean?”

The doc took a deep breath. “You were drugged and raped last night by two different men, and they burned your chin with a lighter.”

My eyes shot open. Renee was sitting in front of me, nodding out. It took me a minute before I realized we were still in the park, crammed into the cubbyhole. And the park wasn't in Boston. I was in Bangor because Eric's funeral was tomorrow morning.

I'd had flashbacks and nightmares about that night before, but not like this and never so detailed. That was the real deal, like it had just happened seconds before and not two years ago. I couldn't wait to get the hell out of Maine.

When we got back to Tim's, everyone was gone, and his bedroom door was shut. We shot up again and drifted in and out while the sun rose in the eggplant and aqua sky.

Tim woke us up only a few hours later and handed us mugs of coffee. Renee and I dressed in the nicest clothes we owned—jeans and button down shirts—and got high after we put our makeup on.

The ground was still too frozen for a burial, so the service was held at a funeral home. Rows of chairs faced the open casket. From the back row, I could see only a small portion of Eric's profile. But next to him was a poster-sized picture from high school graduation propped on an easel. I kept my eyes on the floor. I'd seen enough.

When the holy collared guy started reciting prayers, I fell asleep. I could have stayed awake, but I didn't want to hear all that shit about our heavenly father.

Tim nudged me. Renee was sleeping too and I tapped her on the leg. Eric's mom was standing in front of the casket, saying how much Eric was loved and how it wasn't his time to be with Jesus. Oh, he'd seen Jesus all right. Jesus had sold us the batch of dope that Eric OD'd on.

She talked about Eric's goals of being a pilot—that was news to me—and how he was so talented and surrounded by such inspiring people. Her teary eyes scanned the crowd, and not once did they land on me. I counted how many times she wiped her nose. So far it was eight.

After the ceremony, everyone got up and moved to the other room where drinks and food were being served.

“Let's go see Eric and get the fuck out of here,” Renee said. “This place is creeping me out.”

I agreed. Our backpacks were in Tim's car, so if he wasn't ready to leave yet, we'd walk to the bus station.

Renee and I stood in line. I didn't look at him until I was right in front of him. The funeral people had done a good job making him look alive. His skin was a light peach, and his lips were red.

What can I say, I thought to myself. Sorry this happened to you? Sorry you took too much? Neither of those seemed right. Eric wouldn't want to hear me apologize, he'd want to know how I was doing.

I've been staying at Que's, I told him. Raul has the hots for me, but I'm not sure if I want to be his girl. He takes good care of me though. Like you would have. My parents have been all over me since you died, and they think I'm doing the same shit you did. We'll keep that between us, okay? It'll be our little secret like the time you saw me naked in our apartment in Chinatown. I hope you're liking the other side and everyone over there is treating you good. Rest in peace, my friend.

I went to the back of the room to wait for Renee and when I got by the door, my parents walked in.

“Were you going to call us?” Mom asked.

Fuck. Renee needed to hurry the hell up.

“I just got in this morning,” I said. “I was going to call after the funeral.”

My parents looked at each other. My dad's expression caught me first, raised eyebrows and lips pointed down in a scowl.

“I don't believe you,” he said. “You haven't answered your phone in three days.”

“What's not to believe? My luggage is still in Tim's car.”

“Tim?” Mom asked. “Why are you avoiding us? Is there something you're trying to hide?”

“He offered to give me a ride—”

“You need help, Nicole,” Dad said.

I couldn't remember the last time he'd called me by my real name.

“We're taking you to Acadia Hospital right now,” Mom said.

I wasn't going to that hell hole of a rehab center and sit in therapy with all the dropouts and addicts I went to high school with.

Renee was walking towards us. She gave me a look like she'd meet me outside. I mouthed “Tim” to her and she understood.

“Mom,” I said and looked at her. “And Dad, I don't need to go to rehab. I'm fine, I promise.”

“Stop lying to us,” they both said at the same time.

My parents’ voices were so loud people were starting to stare.

Renee had found Tim, and they were standing by the front door, waiting for me.

“I hope you're proud of yourselves,” I said. “Causing a scene.”

I dashed to the front door. I could hear my parents following behind me, and then I heard Eric's mom call my name. I didn't turn around. I joined Tim and Renee, and we fled down the stairs to Tim's car. When I was in the passenger seat, I saw my parents and Eric's mom running down the steps after me.

“Go, go, now,” I said, and Tim floored the gas.

I asked him to drop us off at the bus station, and I called Raul to tell him I was ready to come home. Raul said he'd call the bus company and pay for my return ticket, and he'd pick us up at North Station.

The bus wasn't leaving for thirty minutes, but we boarded anyway and scrunched down in our seats so we couldn't be seen through the window.

I decided not to go into the bathroom and shoot up until we were on our way to Boston. I would have done it in the seat, but the driver was watching us through his rearview mirror

“I've got to tell you something,” Renee said.

The bus had started moving, and I was getting ready to go into the bathroom.

“What is it?”

She was chewing her fingernail and her eyes were glued to the floor. “I'm… Fuck,” she said and paused. “I'm fucking pregnant.”

“What?”

“Yeah, at least two months along.”

This couldn't really be happening. Could it? She was using as much dope as I was, so wouldn't that have killed the baby? Two damn months? That would explain her throwing up. But wait. Who was the father? Que?

“Is that why Que and Raul have been so nice to us?” I asked.

“I don't know about Raul, but yeah, Que thinks it's his.”

She didn't sound convinced. Who else could be the father?

“Is it his?” I asked.

“There's only been one other dude besides Que.”

Renee didn't talk about the men she had sex with. Until we started staying at Que's house, I didn't even know they'd been sleeping together.

“Mark,” she said.

“Mark who?”

“Our old boss, Mark. He could be the father too.”

Now it made sense. All those dirty looks she'd given me when Mark had paid for BC's tip and when I told her he'd stuck his tongue down my throat. She'd been sleeping with him the whole time? And Que? Damn.

“Does Mark know you're prego?” I asked.

“Why, do you think I should tell him?”

“Shit, Renee. I don't know, we've got a good thing at Que's.”

“But I'm pretty sure Mark's the dad.”

What the hell were we going to do? Renee might have Mark's baby inside her, and if Que found out, our asses would be on the street. Who would we buy from then?

CHAPTER TEN

Renee's belly was starting to get round, and Que would rub it, calling it his bump of love. The whole thing grossed me out. Not just her pregnancy, but also the way they acted. They pretended to talk to the baby and put headphones on her stomach, so it could listen to rap music. She hadn't gone to the doctor yet, and she wasn't taking those pregnancy vitamins. For all she knew, the baby had three arms sprouting from its chest.

I didn't know what made her want to keep the baby in the first place. Mark would have sprung for an abortion, I thought. But she still hadn't even told him she was pregnant. What was she going to do if the baby came out light skinned and didn't have any of Que's Puerto Rican complexion?

Raul was obsessed with the whole baby thing too. He thought it'd be fun if he and Que had kids close in age, and he was trying to get me pregnant. Fun? That would be about as much fun as checking into rehab. I told him one morning I was going to visit Michael, but really I went to the free clinic. The doctor did an internal exam and I had to pee in a cup to make sure I wasn't pregnant before he gave me birth control pills. He told me I'd have to come back once a month to get another prescription, and the receptionist would call to remind me of my appointment.

Raul got all upset when I got my period and said we needed to try harder. We were having sex at least twice a day, how much harder could we try? I told him it took some women up to a year to get pregnant. He said I was young and in a month or so I'd be carrying his baby. Whatever I did, I couldn't forget to go to the clinic or he'd be rubbing my bump of love too.

Renee said sunlight was good for the baby and asked me to go on a walk with her every afternoon. A baby wasn't like a plant, and if she really cared what was good for it, she'd stop shooting dope. Near the end of our walk, we'd buy two pints of ice cream and eat them before going back home. In between bites, she'd tell me the baby names they'd picked out and how different their lives were going to be after it was born. Que was going to give up dealing and open an auto body shop, and they'd rent a house in the suburbs for their little family of three. Her plans never included Raul and me.

Raul said Que would never stop dealing because they made too much money. And moving to the 'burbs wasn't going to happen either. All their friends lived in the city. What I thought he meant was their gang lived in the city and they weren't allowed to leave them, but their gang was something he wouldn't discuss.

Renee and I were walking home one day after finishing our ice cream, and a parade of police cars passed us, blue lights flashing. When we saw the cops again, they were double parked in front of our house. Swarms of officers stood on the lawn, and the front door of the house was open. We stopped a block away and didn't move any closer. We knew if we tried to go inside the house, we'd get dragged into the mess too.

Two officers with canines came out of the house. There was a yellow lab and a German shepherd, followed by five cops, two carrying Que's wooden drug cabinet and the others with trash bags in their hands. The cops had found everything except Renee and me.

Que and Raul were hauled out next. They were handcuffed and placed in separate police cars.

“How'd they know?” Renee whispered.

“Someone snitched.”

She looked at me from the corner of her eyes and her top lip was curled. “Was it you?”

“Fuck you, Renee, seriously.”

“Sorry, it's my hormones, they make me think crazy thoughts.”

The same hormones that led her to believe Que would give up dealing for the baby? Stupid bitch. I couldn't believe she'd accuse me of tipping off the cops.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

I needed my clothes from inside the house, but we couldn't stand here all day and wait for the police to clear out. If we did stay, they might think we were connected and try to question us. I had the important stuff like my purse and cell phone. Renee would have to steal me some clothes from Goodwill.

“Let's go to the park,” I said.

We sat on a bench and people watched. Renee was really quiet. I asked her how much time the guys would serve and if we should call their friends to tell them the news. She didn't answer. She only shrugged her shoulders, staring at the trees that surrounded us.

By dark, I was feening and I knew Renee had to be hungry. We didn't have any dope, and I'd spent the money Raul had given me on ice cream that morning. “You have any money left?”

“I've got Que's ATM card.”

“You stole it?”

“He gave me one.”

He must have really trusted her.

“Let's go to McDonald's,” she said. “Then we'll hit up Roxbury for some H.”

“Roxbury first.”

“The baby needs to eat,” she said.

I was already sick of this baby and it wasn't even born yet. The old Renee would've wanted smack first and food later. This was bullshit.

I walked with her to the ATM and while she searched her bag for the card, she complained about how hungry she was. She said she didn't want to wait in line for the food, so she told me to go order and she'd be there in a minute to pay.

McDonald's was only a block down from the bank. I ordered two value meals and stood to the side of the counter, waiting for Renee. After five minutes, I called her cell phone. She didn't answer. Ten minutes later, she still hadn't shown up. The McDonald's guy had set our food on a tray and placed it on the counter. The smell of the burgers was making my stomach growl and my mouth was watering for the orange soda.

“Is your friend coming or not?” the guy asked.

The clock on my phone showed twenty minutes had passed since I'd left her at the ATM. I tried her cell again and it went straight to voicemail.

I stole a couple fries. “I guess not,” I said and walked out.

I went to the ATM, but she wasn't there. She wasn't in the park either. That bitch had taken off, leaving me without any dope or money. She'd been really quiet since we saw the cops, so she was probably scheming up a plan to ditch me. I had this feeling I'd never see her again.