Mommy's Angel (11 page)

“And you a baby, too?” she went on. “Dat ain’t right. Butter don’t got no shame, do she? Got little kids out here. This ain’t no place for no kids and she know that shit, too.”

“You know Butter?” I asked her, still smiling.

She shook her head and glanced up the street at Butter’s car. “Yeah, and just so you know, she don’t play by the rules. You better watch ya back,” the woman said before she walked over to another girl and got a light from her.

Cars continued to ride by. Some stopped and picked up a girl and others just drove on by. The corners were getting emptier as time went on. Girls were jumpin’ in those cars. I knew Butter was watching me, and it was probably only a matter of time before she was going to drive down the street and tell me I better be just like them bitches and jump my ass in one of those cars. I could see her saying it just like that, too. I smiled at the thought of Butter’s spiteful ass. Then a car pulled up right on me.

“You smilin’ at me, sexy?” the old man asked.

He looked like he was somebody’s great-grandfather. He was toothless and all.

“What it take to get you home with me?” he asked.

I glanced up the street at Butter’s car and could imagine her telling me, Get ya ass in that car.

“It take a whole lot of Butter,” I said, trying to remember the script Butter told me.

“Oh, is that right? You one of Butter’s girls? Well, I got what you need. Get in.”

I opened the passenger door and sat on the torn leather seats. The inside of the car smelled like cigars. There was some slow music playing that I didn’t recognize. The old man was humming to the beat in between talking to me.

“You a fresh face. I love me a fresh face,” he said. “You look kind of young. You suck dick?”

I looked at the man and wanted to throw up. He looked old enough to be my mom’s dad and was asking me if I sucked dick.

“You don’t talk much, huh? Well, that’s fine with me. Save ya mouth for what I’m payin’ you for. I been waitin’ all week for this. And I done hit the jackpot and got me a baby. I think the youngest I had was like twenty-two. What, you like eighteen?”

I was high, but I wasn’t crazy and it was no way I was sucking that old man’s dick. I figured if I told him how old I was he would be like
Oh no, you too young,
and drop me off.

“Fifteen,” I responded.

His eyes lit up. A smile appeared on his face.

“Fifteen? Oh, I really hit the jackpot! A old man like me havin’ a little pretty thing like you suckin’ my dick. I’m about to pull over right now. Forget goin’ to the motel,” he said.

That wasn’t the response I was looking for, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. Old nasty-ass men like him liked young girls. He reminded me of an older version of Marvin, and I couldn’t take it no more. As soon as he pulled over to the curb, I opened the door and got out.

“Yo! What you doin?” he yelled out the car window.

I ignored him and walked up the three to four blocks back to the corner he picked me up from. I knew Butter was going to have something to say, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t sucking that man’s dick.

Just as I predicted, Butter’s car came driving down to the corner. She barely put it in park before she jumped out. She held her hand out as if she wanted me to put something in it. “Where my money?”

“I didn’t do anything with him,” I told her nonchalantly. I was trying to keep from making a scene.

“Why not?” Butter asked, agitated.

I wanted to tell Butter to pipe down before she had a heart attack, but that would have added fuel to her fire. “He was givin’ me the runaround, so I told him to let me out,” I lied.

Pop!
Butter smacked the shit out of me. Between the cold air and the stinging sensation from the smack, it felt like my face was broken. I couldn’t even cry, she hit me so hard. I was stunned.

“Listen, to me! You are pushin’ so many limits! If you weren’t Antione’s peoples I would’ve fed you to the wolves. But keep playin’ games wit me, and Antione or no Antione I’ ma show you a side of me you goin’ wish you never had to see. Now, the next car that come through here you better hop ya ass in and do whatever he tell you to do. I wouldn’t care if he asked to ass fuck you in the middle of Times Square. You got that? Now, play with me if you want!” Butter told me. She got in her car and drove around the block.

In the meantime, the couple other girls out there were staring at me whispering among themselves. I was standing frozen on the corner, scared to death. A car rode up, and I don’t know how, but I managed to walk over to the passenger side.

“Can I help you?” I asked, sticking to Butter’s script.

The well-groomed man looked at me with sorrow and told me to get in.

“What you want? A blow job? You wanna fuck me?” I asked, wanting to get the whole thing done and over with. My heart was racing and my head was spinning. I wished I had blacked out or at least had some weed. I was so paranoid I forgot to ask him if he knew Butter.

“I wanna talk,” the guy said as he pulled off from the corner.

“We can do whatever you want. Long as you pay me. Long as I put some money in that bitch hand,” I poured.

I couldn’t help myself any longer. My leg started to shake. I was hurt. My spirits were broken. I was losing myself.

“Listen, I’m an outreach counselor,” the guy began. “I help girls like yourself get off the streets.”

I cut him off, “All that’s fine. But to be honest, I don’t have time to talk right now unless you’ re going to pay me.”

“I’m not here for sex, though.”

“Okay! Well, let me out! I am wastin’ my time with you, and if I go back there with no money she goin’ kick my ass!”

“I want to help you,” the guy said. “Take my card. Give me a call. You don’t have to do this.”

Tears poured down my face. The man didn’t have a clue what was going to happen if I walked back to that corner with no money in my hand.

“You wanna help me? Then give me some money. Anything! Just so I can pay her. Please. I will do whatever you want me to.”

The guy pulled into a parking space and took a business card from his glove compartment. He handed it to me, and I put it in my back pocket.

“I can’t give you any money. That’s against policy. But, I can help you. Call me…”

I got out of his car and slammed his door.
“jackass!”
I screamed at him. I couldn’t believe my luck. The time I was going to do something, the nigga wasn’t a trick. Butter was going to whip my ass. I knew she wouldn’t be tryna to hear that he was some fuckin’ outreach counselor. She was goin’ be like
Bullshit, you just didn’t want to do shit with him,
or she was goin’ ask me did he say he knew her. Either way she was goin’ to be pissed off ’cause I fucked up.

I walked up the street. But that time I didn’t reach the corner. Butter sped up on me about a block before. Her brakes screeched, drawing attention to her. I saw a few people looking in our direction, including the Rosie Perez—sounding woman.

Butter jumped out the car and grabbed me by my shirt. “Why do you want me to hurt you?” she asked.

“Butter, I swear to God on my brother that the guy wasn’t a trick. I told him I would do whatever…”

Butter cut me off, “He wasn’t a trick? I been workin’ these corners for three years and every mothafucka that come through here and pick a bitch up is a trick! Now, you goin’ bullshit me? The first time it’s shame on you. But the second time it’s shame on me. And I ain’t about to let no ho shame me!” Butter hauled off and smacked me again. That time my nose bled. I was scared for my life. From the corner of my eye I could see people approaching us.

One was the man who got me in trouble in the first place.

“Yo! Yo! Yo!” he shouted out to Butter. “Leave her alone! I’m calling the cops,” he said, jogging toward us with his cell phone in his hand.

Butter let me go and started to walk back to her car.

“you lucky this clown is callin’ the law! But you gotta come home! And if you do, you better not be empty-handed. I’ll cut ya fuckin’ throat!”

Butter got in her car and sped off. I stood there shaking frantically. I didn’t even know how I was still standing because I couldn’t feel my legs.

“You want me to take you to the police station,” the guy asked, dialing numbers in his phone.

I shook my head no. They would have locked me up or put me in some group home somewhere.

“What about the hospital?”

“No! Got damn it!”
I snapped. “I told you how you could’ve helped me and you didn’t so get the fuck out of my face!”

“I got her,” Rosie Perez sound-alike said.

The woman wrapped her arm around my shivering body. Her touch made me jump. I had never been so scared in my life. I was shaking and crying uncontrollably. The few people that were out were gathered around looking at me like I was a nut case. The woman started walking me back up to the corner.

“You sure? I can give y’all a ride somewhere,” the man insisted.

“No, that’s okay,” the woman said.

“Well, can I call somebody for you?” He wouldn’t give up.

“Noooo!”
I finally yelled. Then my body went into convulsions. I started screaming, “I CAN’t TAKE THIS SHIT NO MORE!”

I had a nervous breakdown. It was on the ho strip under the bridge in uptown Manhattan. Long ways from home.

T
he smell of bacon and eggs woke me from a deep sleep. When I opened my eyes I didn’t know where the hell I was. I crawled from under the Dora the Explorer sheets and comforter and sat up in the twin-size bed. I scanned the room to gain familiarity, and the pink and purple walls and Dora everything did not ring any bells. I almost had a heart attack when I looked over at the doorway and saw three small children smiling at me.

“Oh, my God. Y’all scared me,” I said holding my chest. “I didn’t know y’ all were there.”

I was talking to these kids like I knew who they were.

“Mommy, she’s woke!” the biggest one yelled. She couldn’t be no older than six or seven. Her two front teeth were missing, but she was adorable. She was light-skinned, almost yellow, with green eyes and dark blond hair that was platted down her back. Her fat cheeks made me want to pinch them so bad.

The other two kids were little boys. One looked like he was four or five and the other about three, Kindle’s age. They were chubby, too, with the same complexion, eye color, and hair color as the girl.

As I was getting out of the bed, another unfamiliar face appeared.

“Do you want some breakfast?” the short, stocky woman asked.

I knew that voice from somewhere, I thought. I smiled and said, “No, thank you,” even though I was starved and wanted to run down the steps and stuff my face with every bit of whatever she had cooked. The thing was I wasn’t sure who she was and where I knew her from. But I knew that Rosie Perez voice.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asked, assuming correctly.

“Not really,” I said, smiling, hoping not to offend her.

“I met you last night. You were having some problems with the girl, Butter,” she refreshed my memory.

“Ohhhh,” I said. Her asking me for a light popped in my head. “I remember.”

“Come on downstairs and get you something to eat. You need to put something in your stomach. You had a rough night.”

“Okay,” I said as I started to make up the bed I had slept in.

“Leave those covers the way they are, and come eat this food before it gets cold,” the woman instructed.

“You sure?” I asked, minding my manners.

“Yeah. Come on and eat.”

“Okay, I’ll be right down,” I said. “I gotta use the bathroom.”

“It’s right there to your right,” she told me and headed back down the steps.

I went into the small bathroom, and if I wasn’t wide awake by then the bright yellow color scheme would have surely done the job. Everything from the shower curtain, bath towels, and window shades to the rugs, trash can, and soap dish was sunshine yellow.

After I went to the bathroom I flushed the toilet and washed my hands. I looked in the mirror and my lip was swollen.
“How the hell did that happen,”
I thought aloud. I touched my lip gently and tried to remember how it got like that. I figured it had to have something to do with Butter, because I didn’t wake up at her house and plus the lady told me I was having problems with her.

I went downstairs, and it was clearer to me that the lady loved bright colors. I had to walk through a bright orange living and dining room to make it to the bright green kitchen.

“Good morning,” I said, as I sat down at the kitchen table.

“Good afternoon,” the lady replied, as she put scoops of food onto a plate and placed it in the microwave.

“What time is it?” I was curious.

“Twelve thirty. You slept pretty late,” she said, turning to face me.

I wanted to ask her some questions, but I didn’t know her name. I had been in that lady’s house, slept in her child’s bed, and was about to eat her food, and didn’t know what to call her. I felt bad. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What’s your name again? I can’t remember last night too good.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t even tell you my name last night. But anyway, I’m Elaine. And these are my children, Brianna, Bryan, and Brandon.”

“Oh, I’m Angel,” I said.

“Say hi to Ms. Angel,” Elaine told her kids as she took the plate of food out of the microwave and placed it on the table in front of me.

“Hi, Ms. Angel.” Brianna did what she was told. Bryan and Brandon mumbled hi under their breath.

I smiled at them and spoke back. Then I thanked Elaine for the eggs, bacon, and home fries and dug in.

I was so hungry I ate like a pig. I didn’t even care that Brianna was staring at me, smiling as if I was a life-size toy she was dying to play with.

After I filled my stomach up some and got a little comfortable, I decided I would grill Elaine.

“What happened last night?” I asked.

Elaine made Brianna move out of the chair across from me. “Go in the living room with your brothers or something,” she told her daughter.

“Baby girl, you were out of it. I thought you were going to faint. I just put you in a taxi and brought you here. I didn’t wanna leave you out there ’cause Butter was talkin’ about cuttin’ ya throat and that guy you had went with was threatenin’ to call the cops. I felt sorry for you ‘cause I knew you were in over ya head. You ain’t but what, sixteen?”

“I’ll be sixteen next year.”

“So you’re only fifteen? Girl, when I was fifteen I was in school thinking about what I was going to wear to the dance. What are you doin’ out there on the strip?” Elaine seemed concerned.

I shrugged my shoulders.

“What do you mean you don’t know? You don’t have no business out there like that. You know how dangerous it is out there. And then you dealing with Butter? She is throwed off, you know that, right? Everybody know it. She belong in a mental hospital. She be snappin’ on girls left and right, gettin’ them hooked on drugs and shit so she can have more control over them. She put one of her girls in the hospital before. The girl was fucked up. She ain’t good people at all, mommy. You don’t need to be nowhere near her. How did you get down with her in the first place?”

I shook my head and said, “It’s a long story. I met her at a club.”

“Shake’s?” Elaine was on point.

“Yeah.”

Elaine shook her head. “Urn, um, um,” she said. “Shake and Butter still takin’ advantage of girls. See, I got out there around the same time as Butter. Shake was her pimp back then, and he pretty much schooled her on how to control and make money off of young naive girls like you,” Elaine explained. “She was trying to get me on her team at one point. But, I was like no. ’Cause first of all, I was older and I didn’t plan on being out there long. I planned to get in and get out. ’Cause see, I wasn’t never like a stripper or a drug addict or nothing like that, like most of the girls on the strip. My situation was different. My husband was the breadwinner. He was a Wall Street broker and he took good care of us. But he had got murdered. They had robbed him at gunpoint and murdered him,” Elaine recollected.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I told her.

“Oh, it’s okay. It’s been like four years now. I done dealt with it, you know. But, at the time, it was crazy because I was pregnant with my youngest, Brandon. And I didn’t have no job or no skills and all I had was a diploma—and with the high bills we had, I needed more than minimum wage. So a friend of mine who I used to hang out with before I got married had told me about how I could make fast, easy money. At first I was like hell no, you know. But then when those bills started piling up and I was looking at my babies like I can’t have my kids in no shelter, I was like hell, I gotta do it. But like I said, I was planning on getting in and out. I thought I could do it just to make enough money to carry me until I could get some college credits and get a good job. But that plan went south. School was hard. Especially with three kids.”

I listened to Elaine tell me her story and I felt for her. She seemed like a nice, well-to-do lady and I could imagine how it was to have a good life with her husband and kids and then have it all taken away in a tragedy like that. That was just how it happened with me in terms of my brother. Before he was killed we had a good life. My mom wasn’t strung out and we were straight. So, I knew where Elaine was coming from.

“So, what’s your story?” Elaine asked. “Where’s your mother? And what you running the streets for?”

“Blaaah. Blaaah.”

“Oh, my goodness, Angel, are you okay?” Elaine jumped up and got paper towels from the roll.

“I am so sorry,” I managed to say, wiping my mouth. I had spit up all on Elaine’s kitchen floor. I didn’t know why. I didn’t even feel it coming. It just crept up on me.

“It’s okay. It’s just food,” Elaine said, as she laid paper towels over my vomit.

I stood up to get more, and I felt so dizzy I had to sit back down. I rested my head in my hands.

Elaine stopped what she was doing and looked at me. “Angel, are you all right?”

“I feel nauseous,” I told her.

“What were you high off last night?”

I didn’t want to admit to Elaine that I had been high off anything, but the way I was feeling, I thought it was best to tell the truth, just in case I needed to go to the hospital or something.

“Ecstasy.”

“Was that your first time taking it?”

“No.”

“Well, have you ever felt like this before afterward?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” Elaine pondered. “Are you pregnant?”

“No.”

“You a virgin?”

“No.”

“Well, how do you know you’re not pregnant? When was your last period?”

I thought back to my last period and calculated the days in my head.
It went off around the end of October. So it had to come on like a week before that.

“Around October twenty-something.”

“So, you should have gotten it again around November twenty-something. Did you?”

I shook my head.

“Well, you need to get a pregnancy test. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

I felt so bad I wasn’t really listening to what Elaine was saying. I heard her, but I wasn’t listening to her. She walked over and got a bottle of Pine-Sol from the cabinet under the sink. Then she picked up a small mop bucket and placed it in the sink. She opened the Pine-Sol and poured it in the bucket while she ran water in with it. The smell quickly filled the air. I got up from the chair and tried to make it over to the trash can in time, but I was too late. I spit up again.

“Oh, yeah, you’re pregnant,” Elaine said confidently.

I was asleep in bed when Elaine got back from the store with a pregnancy test. She woke me up and explained to me what I had to do. I went in the bathroom and followed the instructions. I prayed that no line would appear. While I waited the couple minutes, I thought about the last time Jamal and me did it. I was trying to remember if we used a condom. I wasn’t sure. We used them sometimes. But other times we just did it and he pulled out. I couldn’t remember if the last time was one of those pull-out times or not. I prayed it was a condom time, though.

Knock, knock.
“You all right in there?”

I cracked open the bathroom door, and Elaine was standing outside it with her three children. They all were huddled up together, looking nervous, like I was performing an exorcism on the other side of the door instead of taking a pregnancy test. Elaine was even biting her nails.

“I’m okay. I’m just waiting for the result.”

“Did you pee on the right spot?” Elaine asked.

I didn’t answer her because it was obvious I did. The damn line appeared on the stick. I threw the test and the results away. I washed my hands and walked out the bathroom.

“You goin’ have a baby?” Brianna asked immediately.

I smiled at her and a tear slipped.

“Bri—you, Bryan, and Brandon go downstairs and finish watching TV,” Elaine instructed her kids.

They reluctantly did what she had told them to, and Elaine followed me into the back room.

“It was positive?” Elaine asked as she closed the door behind her.

I sat down on the edge of the bed. I nodded. Then the tears came pouring. Elaine sat down beside me.

“Don’t cry. It’s going to be all right,” she said as she rubbed my back. “It’s not the end of the world, Angel. People have babies all the time. I know it seems hard to picture and I know it’s scary right now, but you’ll get through it.”