Authors: Ashley Antoinette
Moth to a Flame (4 page)
“He’s just a friend, Daddy,” she replied. “Mommy, he’s just a friend.” Her eyes pleaded with her mother to intervene before her father lost his cool.
Justine Atkins stepped up and shook Mizan’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mizan, but Raven is only seventeen years old and she has a curfew. Next time we hope that you make sure she abides by it.”
Mizan looked at Raven in surprise when he found out she was only seventeen.
Li’l mama bad as hell,
he thought.
But, damn, she’s jail bait.
He nodded and replied, “No doubt. I didn’t know she had a curfew. The next time we kick it I’ll make sure I have her home on time. Good night.” Mizan headed back to his car.
Li’l mama bad as hell,
he thought.
But, damn, she’s jail bait.
He nodded and replied, “No doubt. I didn’t know she had a curfew. The next time we kick it I’ll make sure I have her home on time. Good night.” Mizan headed back to his car.
Benjamin nodded at Mizan, dismissing him without words. Raven couldn’t help but smile because Mizan had clearly said that he was interested in seeing her again. Justine could see the attraction in her daughter’s eyes.
“Mizan,” Justine called out as she wrapped her silk robe tighter around her body. “We don’t let our daughter go out with just anyone. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow so we can get to know you better? We’re having a fish fry for our youngest daughter’s birthday.”
Mizan nodded, and winked at a blushing Raven, while Benjamin turned to look at his wife like she was insane.
Justine grabbed her husband’s hand and led him into the house as Raven followed close behind.
“What were you doing in the inner city?” Benjamin calmly asked his daughter once they were inside. He didn’t have to raise his voice in order to express his anger. Raven could see his temple throbbing, and his red, worried eyes made a streak of guilt run through her.
“I was just chilling, Daddy ... I knew you wouldn’t have let me go if I had asked you,” Raven said in a baby’s voice. She was a daddy’s girl and hated for him to be upset with her. The look of disappointment he gave her made her want to cry.
“Then you come in here with that grown-ass nigga. You’re seventeen, Raven. You’re still my baby girl. A nigga like that shouldn’t even know where you rest your head. I taught you better than that!” he said. He had to stop himself from speaking because he was too angry with her to control his emotions. She didn’t understand the magnitude of her irresponsible actions. He had done a lot of dirt over the years. The makings of a boss required a lot of work, and he knew that he was the perfect target for a young nigga looking to come up. Having two daughters and a wife made it that much easier for him to be touched. They were his weakness, especially his beloved Raven. She was his firstborn and he would catch a body if anything ever happened to her. He rubbed his stubby facial hair as he paced back and forth in the foyer. Raven stood before him with tears building in her eyes. He walked over to her and hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head.
“I love you, Rae. I need you to understand that I’m just trying to keep you safe. There is no point to us living out here in the suburbs if you insist on going back to the hood every chance you get. I’m trying to save you from a lifestyle you can’t handle. I want better for you than what I am. That li’l nigga you brought here tonight is too familiar. Twenty years ago that was me and you deserve better than that. You deserve the world, Rae. Go and get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I want you up early to help your mama get ready for the party tomorrow.”
Raven nodded and ascended the stairs. When she reached the top she turned and said, “Daddy, what’s my punishment?
Benjamin shook his head and sighed. He knew the day would come when a young nigga would come knocking at his door for his firstborn, but he hoped it would never be a nigga like Mizan. He wanted to lock her away and hide the key. If he could he would keep her away from the world. He had never reprimanded her a day in her life, and although he wanted to, he wasn’t going to today. As he looked up at her in disappointment, he said, “You don’t punish the ones you love, Rae. Remember that. Just don’t let it happen again. Go to bed, princess.”
Raven gave her father a smile and headed to her room. When she passed her parentsbedroom, she noticed that her mother’s light was still on.
“Hey, Mommy,” she said as she peeked inside the room.
“You like that boy, huh?” Justine asked as she patted the empty spot beside her. Raven sat down on the bed. Her infectious smile revealed her true feelings about Mizan. “He’s cute, her mother said. “How old did you tell him you were?”
Raven didn’t respond and her mother continued, “Raven, he’s not one of these little boys you got chasing behind you at your high school. He looks like he’s at least three years older than you. I know what it’s like to be your age and have all the older guys checking for you. It feels good to have the attention, but this boy has got a lot more game than you do, Rae. I’m not going to try to tell you who you can and cannot see. In a few months you will be eighteen, so I’ll leave the decision up to you, but you need to be careful with him.”
“I will, ma. I promise,” Raven answered as she got up and headed to her room.
“Oh, yeah, and Raven!” her mother called, stopping her in her tracks.
“Yeah, Mommy?” she responded, turning around to look at her.
“The next time you bring your ass in here high I’ma beat the black off of you. Divas don’t smoke. You leave that to the niggas. As long as you conduct yourself like a lady then everyone around you will have to treat you like one. Also, Morgan looks up to you. She’s your baby sister and she’s watching everything you do. She wants to be just like you so you got to show her how to be a lady the same way I showed you, understand?” her mother stated sternly, wisdom lacing her tone.
Raven nodded her head and replied, “Yeah, Mommy, I understand.”
“Now go take a shower and wash the smoke out of your hair before your father smells it on you,” Justine instructed. She shook her head as she watched her daughter walk out of the room.
I swear, that girl is too much like me when I was her age. I’ma have to keep a close eye on her. She think she’s grown, but I’m queen bee up in here. With her little cute self,
Justine thought with a smile while shaking her head. She couldn’t help but think back to the day a hood fella came into her life ... back to the day when she got caught up in the love of her life, Benjamin Atkins.
I swear, that girl is too much like me when I was her age. I’ma have to keep a close eye on her. She think she’s grown, but I’m queen bee up in here. With her little cute self,
Justine thought with a smile while shaking her head. She couldn’t help but think back to the day a hood fella came into her life ... back to the day when she got caught up in the love of her life, Benjamin Atkins.
1975
Sixteen-year-old Justine Washington was a fly girl. In roller skates, a stone-washed mini skirt, and a halter top she leaned against the banister of TLC Skating Rink while chitchatting with her girlfriends as all the guys rolled by showing off. She was a beautiful distraction as her pretty, long, freshly oiled legs shined underneath the colored strobe light, and she bopped her head to the sounds of Parliament and Funkadelic.
“Hey, Corey!” she called out as the most popular guy in school went past her, full speed. He turned his head and winked at her as he spun on his wheels, trying to impress her. He began to skate backward as they stared at each other while he did circles around her. Staring a moment too long at the most popular girl in school, he lost his balance and went ass first falling to the floor. Justine and her girls cracked up as they turned and skated away.
“Damn, Jus, girl, the boy gon’ break his neck trying to get at you,” her best friend, Minnie, exclaimed.
Justine laughed as she commanded the skating rink as if she owned it. Her hips swayed from side to side as she raised her hands in the air snapping her fingers to the beat. Everybody who was anybody was there on the Saturday night when the eighteen-and-up crowd commanded the club. With her grown-up looks and fake ID, she had gotten into the rink without problem. She was easily the belle of the ball. Her infatuation with attention came from the lack of it she received at home. Her mother was a mean drunk who despised her daughter for “taking the best years of her life.” She blamed Justine for robbing her of her figure, because after she gave birth, she went from a voluptous size twelve to a sloppy twenty-eight. When her mother’s size bounced, so did Justine’s father, and now her mother was miserable, allowing man after man into her life to make her feel good. Most days she acted as if Justine did not exist, which left Justine feeling alone in a world so cold. With an absentee father and a selfish mother, this left a huge void in her heart. So any amount of attention she got was a good thing to her, which was why her skirts were always a little high and her blouses cut a little low; to turn heads.
Being center stage, Justine floated on four wheels like a professional, when she noticed she had an audience. Dripping in gold and leaned up against the wall with one foot propped up sat Benny Atkins, the finest man she had ever seen. He was surrounded by an entourage of men, and as he stared at her cooly, she felt power emanating from him. His brown, smooth skin and bedroom eyes were attractive, and she gave him a flirtatious smile, She really got into her moves as Michael Jackson’s new hit blared from the speakers. She could tell by his cockiness that he was a little bit older than she. Not once did his eyes leave hers, letting her know that he was definitely staring at something he liked. He nodded at her when the song ended. She skated away with her girls, hoping that she had piqued his interest and that he would try to approach her. But to her surprise, when she turned back to look, their thing had passed. He was kicking it with the fellas and entertaining the next pretty young thing who had crossed his path. This put her in a funk the rest of the night. She purposefully walked past him, switching her wide hips so hard that she thought she had popped them out of place, but to no avail. He did not even notice, being too wrapped up in big-booty Kima, the neighborhood freak.
Smacking her teeth, she turned to her girl Minnie and said, “This is lame. I’m outta here.”
“You don’t want to hang out in the parking lot. Come on, Jus. You know that everybody’s going to stick around for at least an hour,” Minnie pleaded.
“Nah, girl, I’m out, but you stay and groove. I’m right around the way so I can walk home. Call me tomorrow,” Justine said as she sat down to remove her skates. She hugged her best friend and headed out the door with the rest of the crowd. Dudes were already posted up outside waiting for the unofficial afterparty to begin. She got catcalls and “hey, babys” as she made her way across the lot. On the dark Flint city streets, she strolled carelessly. The city was completely different during that time. Affluence from the General Motors shops kept the residents well fed and crime was a rare occurrence, so she didn’t think twice about walking the six blocks to her crib.
She was halfway home when the fear of what she may encounter when she arrived settled in. Her mother’s bed was like a revolving door, and oftentimes the men invited inside had roaming eyes and hands. A creepy feeling crawled up her spine as she turned the corner to her street, and saw the Chevy Caprice sitting in her driveway, letting her know that her mother was entertaining company. She was always left to fend for herself and had learned a long time ago that her mother was not her savior. Her mother’s motto was that grown bitches took care of themselves. “Since you got tits and ass you’s a grown bitch. You quit switching around here and my men might not want a taste,” she had said the first time Justine had told her mother about one of her boyfriend’s pedophiliac ways. She took a deep breath and used her key to open the door. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her mother passed out in a liquor-induced coma while her company felt her up. Justine quickly tried to pass, but her path was blocked when her mother’s guy friend arose from the couch. A lone tear graced her cheek when she noticed the lustful look filling the man’s eyes. He was a new guy. She had never seen him before, but she had seen that look of desire many times. Her eyes fell to the floor. Not again, she thought miserably, already knowing what was to come.
Benny Atkins was the man in his city. Young, fly, and fresh, he was in his prime. Out for a night on the town, he had let his friends talk him into doing something he never did ... relax. It was a celebration of sorts. Benjamin “Benny” Atkins had secured his first heroine connection, and he could only imagine the type of money he was about to come into. At twenty years old he had the world in the palms of his hands. I’ma show these niggas how to hustle ... how to get this money, he thought as he crossed one shell toe Adidas over the other, and leaned on his brand new Cadillac Deville. There was only one man standing in his way and that was Sherman Oaks, his old connect. Sherman was a washed-up hustler, a number man who had made the transition to heroine after seeing how much money there was to make during the Vietnam War. But he was a thorn in Benny’s side. The old man didn’t want to see the young hood star rise above him, and had threatened Benny’s life by putting a street contract on his head. Benny wasn’t scared. He had mad love in his city and he only had one mentality: hit Sherman before Sherman hit him. Get or get got. They had been playing a game of hide-and-seek with one another for weeks, but when his right-hand man whispered in his ear, “We know where he at,” Benny knew that it was his lucky day.
When they pulled up to the small, dilapidated, one-story house, Benny ensured that his gun was loaded. “Keep the car running,” he told one of his goons as he and his right-hand man, Wood, got out of the car. “We’re in and out.” Benny knew that the murder would not take long. He did not intend on making Sherman suffer. He wasn’t about games, only gunplay. One shot to the head would get the job done, and then he would be gone like a thief in the night.
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