Read The Coldest Winter Ever Online

Authors: Sister Souljah

Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Literary, #African American, #General, #Urban

The Coldest Winter Ever (42 page)

BOOK: The Coldest Winter Ever
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First everyone left the room. The nurse came in and began stuffing big pads in my middle. The kind I would never choose to wear, like diapers or something.

“This is to absorb the bleeding. If the heavy bleeding doesn’t stop by tomorrow evening, call us immediately. But you should continue to have bloody spots.” She handed me another pill and a paper cup.

“This is to help stop infection.” She handed me a small white envelope with six more pills in it. “Take these three times a day for two days. Do not bathe. Do not engage in sexual activity for the next four weeks to avoid infection. You need time to heal.” She left me alone in the small room. I was fine until I got down from the table to stand up. The stuff in the room was moving around like I was in space. It was hard for me to stand straight. I looked at my Rolex and the numbers started to float off the face. The nurse busted back into the room as I was crouched over, trying to pull my pants up.

“Let me help you. Do you feel dizzy?”

“Yes.”

“This happens to some people. You don’t need to worry. You will need to lie down. Has someone arrived to pick you up?”

“No.”

“Just as I thought.”

She escorted me to a different small room with a small basic bed. She helped me to lie down. Without notice, I slept. About two hours later I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“You can go now. It should be OK. We need to use this bed for another patient right now.” I felt much better. Everything was steady. I headed home.

19

At the apartment, I ate, then slept. When I woke up, I left out to go to the drugstore. I purchased some pads for heavy-duty flow.

I cleaned everything up. I checked and rechecked to make sure the apartment had no trace of nothing that happened today or yesterday. As I sat at the kitchen table, I felt down-low. I didn’t know why. It was like something was pulling me down, making me feel deep depression. It was something I couldn’t control.

The lower I felt, the more I thought of Daddy. The more I thought of Daddy, the lower I felt. Tears started running down my face. I picked up the telephone.

“Excuse me. Can I have the number for Riker’s Island … Thank you … Prisoner information please. Yes, my father, Ricky Santiaga, was incarcerated at your facility almost a year ago. I came to visit him and was told he was shipped out. Is there any way I can find out where they sent him? No, I don’t remember his prison number. Yes, I’ll hold on … He’s on Riker’s Island? But the corrections officer told me they moved him out. Oh, they moved him to another building? Twenty-three-hour lockup? Can he have visitors? Noncontact twice a week for one hour only. Tomorrow.”

I couldn’t believe it. My pops was at Riker’s all along. The fucking fake cop lied to me. Bullet knew. I knew he knew. The problem is, he didn’t want me to know. I said I would find out myself. I will visit Daddy tomorrow. Nothing and nobody would stop me.

Bullet came through the door quietly that night. I was up. “How you doing, baby?” I greeted him with a hug.

“Joey said you went out yesterday for three hours.”

“Joey who?”

“Downstairs, the doorman.”

“You know his name? Why is he all in my business?”

“Where were you?” Bullet asked, looking dead into my eyes.

“I went shopping.”

“What did you buy?”

“I didn’t see nothing I liked.”

“Are you lying to me? I told you never to lie to
me.”

“I went window-shopping. It wasn’t nothing. I was gonna ask you for some money. I just went to look at a few things.”

“Why did you say you didn’t go out?” he asked.

“I don’t know, it was stupid. I don’t know. It won’t happen again.” I couldn’t arrange my words fast enough. Bullet had me all off guard.

“What won’t happen again? You won’t go out again?”

“No, I’m saying I’ll let you know if I’m going out and where I’m going.”

A dick-suck cures everything. So I unfastened Bullet’s belt, dropped down to my knees and went to work. I centered myself so he could see my lips sucking and pulling. So he could see my tongue.

He needed to know he was the boss. I had no problem with that. When I saw his mouth open wide, a look of pain covered his face, but I knew it was just the ecstasy of him busting in my mouth. He got down on the floor with me and we talked.

“Baby, you’re fucking up my head,” he said in a soft tone, the anger removed from his voice. “When you fuck up my head, you fuck up my business. I can’t let nobody fuck up my business.”

“I ain’t doing nothing, Bullet. I swear it’s all about you and me, that’s it. You think I’m leaving this good dick alone, you crazy.” He smiled.

“This dick is good, ain’t it?”

“It’s the best.”

“Would you die for me?” he asked.

“Baby, I’d lie for you, ride for you, die for you. But if I die for you, I couldn’t have no more of this good dick.” I laughed, feeding his ego. I needed to shift him off of thinking I did something I didn’t do.

He rolled on his side with another hard-on. He began to undo my pants.

“I’m on my period,” I said, trying not to panic. I bent over to lick his balls again.

He pulled my head up and said, “A nigga wants pussy. This is my pussy, right?” he questioned. I answered with a nod. “A little blood ain’t gonna hurt this big dick.” He was all up in me. How can I describe the feeling? It wasn’t pleasure. It wasn’t pain. It was nothing,
like a dick plunging into an ocean. But still, I conjured up some moans for him.

I grabbed the tech nine out of the small drawer in the dresser next to the bed. It was early morning. There were crazy noises coming out of the living room. If somebody besides Bullet was in there, they was about to catch a bad one. As I yanked open the bedroom door, standing behind it with the tech, I heard growling. Not human noises, but like an animal. Walking backwards, I stepped away from the door. I heard running, barking, then howling. Then I heard chains buckling. Motherfucking Bullet had two rottweilers in our NO PETS ALLOWED building. Vicious-looking, no-nonsense killer dogs with a chain that allowed them to roam the entire length of the living room and kitchen and two feet into our bedroom.

“Bullet! Bullet!” I yelled out to him. “Are you home? What the hell’s going on?” But he wasn’t here. I sat on the bed with the tech, debating. Them fucking dogs sat and stared as if all they needed was one miracle to pop the chain and eat my ass alive. I used the bedroom phone to page Bullet. Minutes later he called back.

“What’s up baby, talk fast …”

“What’s up with these fucking dogs?”

“My bitches?”

“Yeah, your bitches!”

“Them some loyal bitches. They do whatever I tell them to do. I tell them to sit, they sit. I tell them to stay, they stay. Are you loyal, Winter?”

“You goddamn right I’m loyal and I’m ready to blast your bitches to pieces.”

“That would be dumb. You would draw attention to yourself, cops, neighbors, the whole nine.”

“The barking dogs is gonna draw attention.” I tried to reason with him.

“If you don’t bother them, they won’t bark. Just close the bedroom door and stay put.”

“You crazy,” I told him, without hostility.

“Yeah, your pussy smelled funny yesterday.” Click. He hung up.

I was vexed that I couldn’t get out to see Pops. If I missed the one-hour visit today, I won’t be able to visit again for another four days. By evening time, that was the least of my worries. I couldn’t
leave the bedroom, so I couldn’t eat. All I had was a bag of Lorna Doone cookies that Bullet had been eating in our bedroom last night. The hungrier I got, the hungrier the dogs got. By midnight, they were growling and so was I. My stomach was roaring and the pills that the nurse had given me was wrecking me on a damn near empty belly. That night, Bullet never came in. In the morning, I paged him but he didn’t call back. My mouth was so dry from the Lorna Doone cookies, I started drinking tap water out of the bathroom in our bedroom.

For two nights and three mornings, I was held hostage by the dogs.

Finally Bullet came in with somebody else. I could hear them talking. I listened as he fed the dogs before feeding me. He didn’t even open the bedroom door to look in on me first. I wasn’t gonna open the bedroom door. I was too mad and too weak.

A half-hour later, the bedroom door opened. He stood in the entrance with a big smile. The same smile that I found so seductive.

“Where are those dogs?” was the first question I asked.

“I sent Joey to walk them.”

“What was Joey doing up here?”

“Someone had to clean up the dog shit.”

“I’m hungry,” I mumbled.

“Oh, so you remember who feeds you?”

“I never forgot.”

“Good.” Bullet carried me off the bed and into the kitchen. He had two big breakfast take-out orders ready for me and a large container of orange juice. I ate without a word.

“Get dressed. Take a walk with me,” Bullet demanded. As I was learning not to resist him, I followed his instructions. When we reached the lobby, Bullet untied the killer rottweilers from the outside black gate where the frightened but greedy doorman, Joey, watched from a distance. We walked with the dogs, who, in Bullet’s presence, somehow turned friendly—two-faced bitches.

“I gotta make a run. I’m taking you with me.” I smiled ’cause I like to travel. But then I thought about my father and how it’s been too long since I’ve seen him.

“That’s right. If I leave you here, I don’t know what you’ll get into. I know if I was the next nigga I’d be willing to die tryna talk to
your fine ass. Now, I could leave you with the dogs,” he said, petting them like they were pups. “But I get the feeling you don’t like them. You know I got a kennel full of these babies. They sell for eight hundred fifty dollars each. I train ’em in the basement in Brooklyn. They sell like crack; they just cost more.”

“I thought you was gonna bounce from Brooklyn,” I reminded him.

“I am. But I’m gonna flow from there real natural. No one will notice. I’ll just get in my car one day and pull away from the curb and never come back. No moving trucks, nothing. No one will know the difference for a while.”

“I’m sure they’ll be some hoes left crying at the curb when you leave,” I teased.

“I don’t fuck with them low-class bitches. They all ran through. All your girls is all fucked up, fucked in, fucked out,” he laughed. “Brooklyn got new hoes coming up. Now all the old bitches are fighting them.”

“Whatever. So where we traveling to?” I asked.

“Baltimore. What you know about that?” he said, peering into my eyes again.

“Not a damn thing.”

“Then why you had a bus ticket to Maryland in your coat pocket when I first picked you up.”

“Damn, I forgot all about that I had that ticket. As you can see, I never went.”

“Where was you going?” he questioned me further.

“I don’t know, nowhere,” I lied.

“Why you be lying so much, Winter?”

“What?” I stalled to arrange my defense in my own head.

“You was probably gonna check that nigga Midnight from Santiaga’s crew.” He was talking casually, and exploding bombs all at the same time.

“How you figure that?” I played it off.

“Don’t play dumb. I never forget a face. It could cost me my life. I never liked that cat. He was too quiet. Never knew what he was thinking. I watched how he moved. When Santiaga’s empire started crumbling, that cat just started scaling his shit down. I know some cats who ran up in his spot. They said that nigga didn’t have nothing.
Just a mattress on the floor, a sheet, toothbrush, and a fucking candle. I mean, no jewels in the place, no money, nothing. Dude didn’t even have a phone. It was like he knew they was coming. In the whole team, he was the only one who walks away free and standing. Cats said he was clean, not a fed, snitch, nothing. He had to put all that dough he stacked somewhere. Anyway, my niggas down in the Baltimore area keep an eye on him for me. But ain’t nothing popping with him. He ain’t pushing no weight.”

“Why you telling me this?” I asked, as if I didn’t care.

“In case you got any ideas about the trip. That man don’t have what it takes to keep you,” he warned.

“I don’t want him.”

“Yeah, whatever. So check this out. Let me tell you how we gonna do this. A lot of cats roll south in Benzes, Lexes, and BMWs. They got the tint, rims, music blasting, car full of niggas. They getting pulled over by the cops. Point blank. Police search the car. They end up doing ten, fifteen, twenty years. We gonna think smart. First, we gonna rent a car. You’ll get it with your credit card.”

“I don’t have no credit card.”

“Yeah, it came in the mail for you the other day. I was holding it for you. We’ll play the part. I’ll dress up, slacks, shoes, dress shirt. You’ll rock a conservative dress. We’ll play something on the radio, like light FM.”

“What difference does it make what station plays?” “I could swear the fucking police got some kind of nigga radar. If they hear you pumping hip-hop, you get pulled over. If we get pulled over, we’ll both tell the same story. We’re in the church. We’re on our way to a revival; we sing in the choir.”

“You’re fucking crazy.” I cracked up.

“I’m dead serious. You gotta rehearse the small stuff. They’ll catch you on a technicality. I got a bunch of close call stories. I know how this shit works. Are you scared?”

“I’m not afraid of nothing.” I told him the truth.

“Good. Keep it natural.”

At the apartment, Bullet made a few calls and finalized arrangements. He came out of his walk-in closet with three teddy bears.

In the bedroom, he told me what to wear. I changed. He got did up like a Sunday school teacher in a suit. Me, him, the dogs, and the teddy bears, headed to the car rental spot in his car.

At the spot, he pointed out a lady standing in front with a big, pink sweater on. He told me to go in, use my credit card and her driver’s license. She’s the driver, you’re the payee.

“But who the hell is she and where did she come from?”

“She’s just a chick from around the way who doesn’t mind doing a favor for me.”

I looked at him, then looked back at her. She was homely, so I said OK. He told me to ask for an infant car seat. We rented a Buick LeSabre family car. The Rent-A-Wreck people were just so happy to have a customer! After awhile, I understood why Bullet had involved this chick. She was twenty-six years old. They had all kinds of discounts for people over twenty-five. It seemed he had thought of everything. She drove the rental out of the place. I hopped back in the Lex. She followed us.

BOOK: The Coldest Winter Ever
10.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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