All Or Nothing (2 page)

From inside numerous project windows, prying eyes fell upon her. Shantell stayed her course, making her way to her back door. The shoes that she clutched in her hand now also served as a weapon, just in case any drug-induced junkie was brave enough to attack her.

Though Shantell was a resident of Piedmont Courts, she was well aware of the fact that her birthplace could also be her last resting place. She had seen it too many times: senseless killings of residents by other Piedmont Court residents. It was rare, if at all, that an outsider came into the projects and killed someone. The residents did a good job of exterminating themselves.

Shantell hated Piedmont Courts with a passion. She couldn’t wait till the day came when she could finally get out of there for good. She planned on using everything at her disposal to insure her departure. Right now, that meant using her body, and Shantell was all right with that since she had nothing else of significant worth to use as a bargaining chip. She was determined to get out the hood and stay out for good, by any means necessary.

Finally Shantell reached her door. Quickly she removed her house keys from out of her pocket and unlocked the door. She was greeted by darkness. Shutting the door behind her, Shantell moved through the pitch-black kitchen with ease. Smoking weed had made her extremely thirsty, so Shantell decided to get something to drink while she was still downstairs. She felt for the wall and turned on the lights.

As soon as she did it, Shantell realized her mistake. Literally dozens upon dozens of roaches began to run for cover. The more timid ones disappeared while the bigger, bolder ones continued to feast on the scraps of fried chicken that lay halfway eaten on a plate on the counter.

“Damn this fuckin’ house is so nasty!” She swore. “Can’t wait to get up outta here.” No matter how long she lived in the projects, rats and roaches were two things she would never get used to.

The sight of the roaches repulsed Shantell. However, that was something that could not be controlled. On the other hand, there was no excuse for being nasty, filthy or just plain trifling and to Shantell; her mother was all three, and then some.

After shooing away any nearby roaches, Shantell grabbed from the dish rack a jelly jar that doubled as a drinking glass. She ran the cup under hot water several times. When she was satisfied that it was clean, she reached into the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of tropical punch Kool-Aid. Shantell drunk glass after glass in an effort to quench her thirst. She was so intent upon drinking that she never heard her mother creeping up on her. It was a noise from the floor that alerted Shantell to her mother’s presence.

“Shantell!” Brenda Bryant barked. “You finally brought yo’ ass home, huh?”

Startled, Shantell dropped the jar, shattering the glass on the floor and sending Kool-Aid everywhere. Her mother almost blew her high with that stunt. Once she came to her senses and realized actually who was behind her, Shantell was pissed.

“I thought I told you to get somebody else to watch ya kid,” her mother chastised. “I done raised my kids. I ain’t taken’ care of no more babies. I’m getting’ tired of yo’ shit. Nobody told yo’ ass to have no baby. Every time I turn around…”

Shantell stared at her mother in disbelief. She continued to stare as her mother ranted and raved. Shantell thought the whole thing was much ado over nothing. It wasn’t like her mother had something else better to do; after all, she didn’t work, nor did she have any significant other to tend to. No selfrespecting man wanted to be bothered with her. Literally, she had no life. Her mother’s life had gone up in smoke from the first hit of crack she took. After that, it was a wrap.

Shantell thought her mother should be thankful for even being able to spend time with her granddaughter. Hell, she should be thankful that Shantell even still talked to her. The Lord knew that Brenda didn’t even deserve that common courtesy. Not after all that she had done to Shantell.

Instead of looking up to her mother, respecting and loving her, Shantell looked down on her. Brenda Bryant had been on cocaine or heroin, off and on, for most of Shantell’s eighteen years on this earth. Shantell always felt like she raised herself. It was a rarity when her mother was in her right state of mind. Drugs had caused Brenda Bryant to neglect her motherly duties. Shantell felt like she never had anyone to give her guidance, or to mold her into a young lady. She blamed her mother for setting her up for a lifetime of failure. What she did learn from her mother was what not to do, instead of what to do. For these reasons, Shantell felt like her mother robbed her of her youth. Brenda was the reason that she was in this messed-up life predicament now, which was why Shantell let her mother make reimbursements in the form of babysitting.

Her mother continued. “You gonna pay me for babysitting. Ain’t nuttin’ in this world free.”

“So this is what this is all about, huh?” Shantell replied. “You want some money, huh?”

Shantell reached in her Gucci bag and pulled out a handful of crumpled-up one dollar bills. She shoved them into her mother’s hand. This immediately killed her mother’s protest... “Here you go! Take it! You know you want it.”

She didn’t have to tell her mother twice. Brenda snatched up the money and flew out the door like she was on a mission. She was on her way to the nearest crack house.

“Run along, crack head!” Shantell yelled after her. “Go get high. I hope yo’ next fuckin’ hit is yo’ last, bitch!”

Brenda didn’t even bother to say anything in her own defense. She knew what her daughter had said was absolutely true. She was going to take the money and blow it all on drugs, just like she did her monthly welfare check. Just like Brenda did any little bit of money she got her hands on. She had a hell of a drug habit to support and it seemed like it grew worse every day. The mythical monkey that was on her back had turned into a full-grown gorilla.

In this household, mother and daughter were cast in reversed roles. Shantell was the sole provider for the household. It was she who was responsible for the meager furnishings, the food and the rent. Brenda’s drug habit had placed her daughter under the gun and kept her there.

Shantell watched her mother leave the house without saying another word. It was a sad day when a child could disrespect their parent like that, without fear of retribution, but this is what their relationship had come to. It was a shame that it had become almost natural for Brenda and Shantell to exchange heated words like this.

After cleaning up her mess, Shantell went upstairs. The first thing she did was to check on her baby daughter, Jordan. Quietly she stuck her head into her bedroom, careful not to disturb her sleeping child. The television provided the only light in the room. It shone on the sleeping baby, as she slept comfortably on the bed. Satisfied everything was okay, Shantell backed out of the bedroom and headed across the hall to the bathroom. She stripped down to her black Victoria’s Secret braandpanty set. Shantell closely examined herself in the fulllength mirror behind the door. With her hands on her hips, Shantell admired herself. She struck a confident pose. There was no question that Shantell was blessed with all the physical gifts to succeed not only in her current occupation, but also in life.

She was drop-dead gorgeous. She stood 5’5 inches tall, with long, shoulder-length hair and walnut brown-colored eyes. Her honey brown skin seemed to radiate. Her waist was small, but Shantell’s ass was phat. She could give a lot of video hoes a run for their money. Her body, in general, was in immaculate shape with nice, firm breasts and washboard abs. Shantell’s body looked as if she worked out vigorously, yet she hadn’t exercised a day in her life. Her curvaceous figure was all natural. If there was such a thing as a body to die for, this was it.

Satisfied with her own physical self inspection, Shantell slipped off the rest of her underwear and stepped into the shower. The warm water pulsated all over her body and Shantell just stood underneath it, eyes closed, enjoying the moment. She wished the water could wash away all the sin from her soul as easily as it did the dirt from her body. Unfortunately for her, it wouldn’t be that easy. There was a long road to redemption ahead of her. Shantell had more than a few issues to address before she got right with God or herself. Taking a long shower was relaxing to Shantell. She began to hum her favorite tune by R&B queen Beyonce, as the water gently messaged her body.

“...Me, myself and I that’s all I got in the end…I’m be my own best friend.” She sang. Shantell sang so beautifully she would have put Beyonce to shame. It was too bad that her talent emerged in the shower. She was too shy to put her talent on public display.

Finally she soaped up twice and rinsed off.

Shantell stepped out of the shower, toweled off, then put her dirty clothes in the hamper. When she left the bathroom she was careful to make sure that she took all her valuables with her. With her mother’s drug habit in full swing, if Shantell left any valuables lying around, they would surely come up missing. This was the nature of the beast that she was dealing with. Shantell knew it and understood it well, yet she was powerless to do anything about it, at least for now.

Shantell yawned. Outside her window, she could hear the birds beginning to chirp. To them, their noise signaled the coming of a new day. For her, it was the same old shit, different day.

Shantell climbed into the bed with Jordan. She kissed the infant and whispered ‘I love you’ into her ear. Shantell looked at her daughter and said a silent prayer that Jordan wouldn’t end up like her. Although Shantell’s life was far from finished, she didn’t like what she was becoming.

After tossing and turning she finally found her spot and got comfortable. Within minutes she dozed off and went to sleep. This was a form of suspended animation that Shantell wished she could stay in. Shantell had more than her share of issues.

To fully understand Shantell Bryant’s life, one would have to take a journey into her past.

Chapter 2

The Past: Sugar to Shit

The prestigious, picturesque Ballentyne section of Charlotte, North Carolina represented old money and the white establishment. This tight-knit community was filled with doctors, lawyers, and business professionals. The majority of the city’s rich and powerful lived in Ballantyne. There were even a few prominent Black families who also owned homes there, but examples of the Black man’s fulfillment of the American dream in the Ballentyne section were few and far between. Most of the minorities that ventured into this area either shopped or worked there. This included Brenda Bryant.

To Brenda, this place was an absolute contrast from her neighborhood. Although only a few miles separated the two, they were a world away.

Brenda was a medium–built, light-skinned woman. One could tell that in her time she must have been an eyeful. Even now, in her mid–thirties, she still exuded some sex appeal.

Six days a week, for the past four years, Brenda boarded two city buses just to make it to work. She was a loyal employee, coming to work even in bad weather. She even came when she was sick, and for good reason: she needed the money.

The Anderson family was the name of the people she worked for. John T. Anderson was a very rich and successful investment banker for Wachovia bank. Charlotte happened to be the second biggest banking system outside of New York City. Brenda worked in the Anderson home as a maid. She

carried out all the daily domestic duties like cooking, cleaning, ironing, and even watching the Anderson’s twin daughters.

It was Brenda who made their household run smoothly but truth be told, she was overworked and underpaid. Yet she never complained. Brenda loved the Andersons, for whatever reason. Their success in life was like hers, too. She lived vicariously through them even though she knew she would never ascend to that level of life. Still, that never stopped her from dreaming. It never stopped her from wanting a father for her own children. For that alone, she envied Mrs. Anderson.

Usually when Brenda returned home from work, she was extremely exhausted, but not this night. After working her fingers to the bone for the Anderson’s earlier that day, Brenda decided to go out on the town. Her friends Wanda, Annie and Sheila kept telling her about a nightclub called Vintage, located on Independence Boulevard. Brenda decided to join them for a few drinks there.

The nightclub was packed, wall-to-wall women and men. During the course of the night, drinks flowed freely. Before the night was over the woman were pissy drunk. They then decided to continue the party at Wanda’s apartment, back in Piedmont Courts.

Back then, crack cocaine was ravaging not only the Black community but also the nation. Piedmont Courts was now caught up in the eye of the storm. In these projects almost everybody was on something, even if it was just alcohol.

“Damn, I’m tired as shit,” Brenda commented. “I think I’m about to go home.”

“Damn, already,” Annie said. “Don’t be a party pooper! Stay.”

“Hang out a li’l longer!” Shelia stated. “We hardly ever see each other anymore.”

Brenda was submissive by nature. She was the type who tried to please everybody. As a result, she usually fell short of her own goals that she wanted to accomplish. Often she appeased others at the expense of her own personal happiness.

“Alright, since ya‘ll put it that way,” she replied. “I’ll stay, but I can’t promise for how long because I’m real sleepy.”

The women sat around the kitchen table reminiscing on old times. The liquor continued to flow freely. The woman thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company; it had been so long since they all hung out together. Life had pulled them in different directions but, somehow tonight it had brought them back together for a reunion of sorts.

“You still tired?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah. Why?” Brenda asked.

“I got something for you.” Wanda insisted. “Wait right here. I’ll be back.”

Wanda exited the apartment through the back door but before anyone could miss her, she had returned. She clutched something tightly in her fist. Everyone but Brenda knew what it was. Still, the women kept silent.