Biker Chick (13 page)

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Authors: Dakota Knight

BOOK: Biker Chick
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Part Four Metamorphosis
Adaptation is the essence of survival.
—Highlights from The Hustler's Handbook
 
Everything has a price . . . everything.
—Highlights from The Hustler's Handbook
Chapter Eighteen
For with each winter comes a spring . . .
At first, I didn't think I could make it. Within hours of seeing the news report on television, my worst fears were confirmed. Ray was one of the people picked up in the police sweep. For once, I didn't shed any tears. It wasn't because I didn't want to. I was in a state of shock. I couldn't even think straight. There was some good news though. Ray wasn't involved in the shootout. But the news reporter had it wrong. Two members of the Cruz and one police officer had died as a result of the shootout. The city prosecutor was trying to charge everyone that was arrested inside the house with murder. Since Ray wasn't at the house when he was arrested, at least he didn't have that to worry about.
Based on Dymond's advice, I didn't try to contact Ray or visit the Franklin County Municipal Jail, where he was being held. “If you try to make any contact with him, they'll try to snatch you up and question you for hours,” Dymond told me. She said the same thing happened to her one time when Shadow had been arrested on drug possession charges and she went downtown to visit him.
“Girl, they set me up good,” she said. “They let me go in and visit him, talk for a couple of minutes, and tell him good-bye and that I loved him. But as soon as I tried to walk out of the door, two big ol' cops got in my way. They told me an investigator had some questions for me. They had me hemmed up for five hours.”
“How did you get out?” I had asked curiously.
“Girl, they didn't have nothing on me. What could they do? I don't know why they thought hovering over me and threatening my freedom was going to make me break down. I had to play it like a baby. I started bawling and sobbing and shit. I got hysterical. They backed off. Maybe they started feeling sorry for me. Soon, they let me go.” She shrugged her shoulders and said, “I mean, we from the Meadows, right? I ain't trying to lose life and limb for no police, feel me?”
I nodded.
So, as the days passed, I kept a low profile. It wasn't hard because I didn't feel like leaving Dymond's apartment. I would lie on the couch, watching soaps, Oprah, Tyra, Maury, and Rachel Ray. Every now and then, I would look out of the window and have the urge to return home. I just wanted to pass by our house, to see if the dream me and Ray shared was still alive. Each day, the urge grew stronger. I had to fight myself.
“I think I'd feel better if I just passed by it,” I told Dymond. “It's been a week and a half. I don't think the cops are still over there.”
Dymond twisted her lips and said, “You're stupid if you do go over there. You've seen the news. They're cracking down on everyone's game ever since that dude got sliced on Main Street.”
Dymond had found out through her connects that the real reason the cops had been so hard on the Cruz was because a prominent Columbus businessman had been killed on the east side two nights before the crackdown. He had done a lot for Columbus, and was a big supporter of the police department. Officially, the news reports called it a robbery. Unofficially, the streets said he got carved like a turkey after supposedly picking up a prostitute. Seems that ho belonged to Dennis Monchats, the kingpin who controlled the Cruz. So, the cops wanted payback and were trying to show Monchats who really ruled the streets of Columbus. Even I knew who would win that fight in the end.
“I'm not going,” I said. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to go. I mean, I didn't do anything wrong.”
“Doesn't matter. They'll try to snatch you up for anything, hoping they can get something from you.”
I lowered my head and frowned. “If they got my journal,” I mumbled, “they may already have something from me.”
“Hey!” Dymond shouted out, causing me to look up at her. “Stop thinking like that. Remember, we're thinking positive about the journal.”
I still couldn't remember how much info I wrote about Ray's ‘true' business. The fact that it wasn't blazing in my mind was comforting, and I had almost convinced myself that I couldn't have written much, if anything at all. But I wouldn't be entirely happy until I saw my journal again.
“Maybe you do need to get out of here, girl. Why don't you hop on your ride and roll around the Meadows or something?” Dymond asked.
An image of Foxy Baby flashed in front of me. My steel was parked outside, covered up for protection. I shook my head and said, “I'm not ready to ride, just yet.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know how I could explain it. I just didn't feel right riding when I didn't even know how Ray was doing.
“Well, you at least need to take a walk or something. The boys are going to think you're a piece of furniture if you stay in one spot much longer,” Dymond said, smiling.
I smiled back and said, “What's wrong with being a piece of furniture?”
We both laughed, but mine was more of a forced giggle. I almost wished I could stay in one place, not having to worry about what the future would bring. Once again though, Dymond was right. I couldn't stay in her apartment forever.
“You're right. I do need to go out. Maybe I'll check out some of our haunts.”
“You should, girl. I know you'll feel so much better.”
I didn't leave the apartment until the next day. I woke up early, after Dymond went to work and the kids were in day care. I spent a long time in the shower, and spent even more time dressing. My thread selection was limited since I didn't have much time to grab a lot of clothes, so I had to make do with a white tee and my Apple Bottoms.
The hot summer air surrounded me like a blanket. Even though it was mid-morning, it was already steaming, and I could feel the sweat forming on my skin. I hadn't even reached the street, and I was ready to head back to the air-conditioned coolness of Dymond's apartment. I decided to press on. I passed by Foxy Baby, placing a hand on my ride and nodding.
Soon
, I thought,
I would be able to ride again.
Kids were already outside ready to play the day away. Once again, I wished I could be among them, without a care in the world. I kept walking, past the brick apartment buildings of the Meadows, past the tall grass and weeds encircling the apartments, into the neighborhood that surrounded them.
Eventually, I ended up back in Maryland Heights. It wasn't a long walk, but I felt like I stepped into a different world. I walked faster, hoping I could whip up the air enough to cool my face. A couple minutes later, my old house was in view. When I reached the driveway, I stared at the one-story house. It still looked good, and whoever was living in it made sure the lawn was looking good. They had also added beige siding and replaced the windows. Despite the changes, I could still see the outline of my former home.
As I continued to stand in the driveway, staring at the house, thoughts of Mom flashed in front of me, and I longed to hear her voice, even if she was screaming at me. At that moment, I wished I could call her, but she didn't leave me with a phone number. She gave me her address, and told me I could come out to California when I was ready to do something with my life.
“Don't even think about coming out there if you still hanging with the Cruz and messing up your life. I don't want to hear it or see it,” Mom told me seriously. Our relationship had been strained since I told her I wasn't going to college. I didn't think we'd ever talk again until she contacted me and told me to come over to her house. But she quickly reminded me that the only reason she contacted me at all was to let me know she was leaving; and she “wouldn't feel right” if she just left without saying good-bye.
“So, you're not even going to give me a phone number to contact you?” I had asked, almost in a state of panic.
“I know how to contact you if I need to. I figure you'll be up under Ray somewhere.”
“So, you're basically abandoning me, right?”
Mom laughed. “Abandoning you? You're an adult now. I've done all I'm obligated to do for a child that keeps reminding me she's grown. Now, you've chosen not to go to college. Hell, you don't even have a job. I even felt more comfortable when you were out there hustling your purses and movies.”
“I still plan on going to school,” I said sincerely, hoping to convince her.
Mom smacked her lips and said, “Okay, when you're on break, with a report card, come on out to Alameda to visit me and Gregory and we'll talk.” Mom actually walked to the door and opened it. “Well, if that's all, I'll be seeing you. I've got a lot of things to do.”
“What is this, tough love or something? Are you trying to prove a point? I can't believe you're serious.” I had gotten frustrated, and my rising voice couldn't hide it.
“Don't get it twisted, Miss Thang. I'm still your mother. But you've made the choice. I've tried to show you a better way. I've tried to do the right thing. Now, I'm far from perfect. I've been asking the Lord if I did wrong, letting you hustle and being a part of it when I knew it wasn't totally right. Maybe my punishment is seeing you take the same road I did with your father.” Mom's eyes began to tear up. “But I can't sit back and be a part of your destruction. Mark my words. This thing with you and Ray . . . it won't last if you don't do the right thing. One way or the other, it's going to fail.” She wiped her cheeks before opening the door wider. “Now, I've got things to do, so . . .”
I wasn't going to let her off that easy. It was my time to rant. “How can you just say good-bye like it's nothing? I'm your flesh and blood. You stuck by Dad when he was trying to get out and do the right thing, and now you're kicking me to the curb when I try and do the same thing? What's up with that . . .”
“You better watch your damn tone, Crystal Marie Sells. Don't you dare compare your father with that fool you're running around with.”
“But it's the same . . .”
“Crystal.” The tone in Mom's voice and the look in her eyes made me shut my mouth. I began to cry.
I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. I felt Mom's arms surround me. She hugged me tight. “I just want you to know that you always have choices,” she said softly. “You can always turn your life around. That's what your father taught me. That's the lesson I want you to learn. Now, I'm not trying to come between you and Ray, believe that. I understand you have to find your own way. And I've provided you a path to get to me. I'll still know how you're doing. Never doubt my love for you, Crys. Never.”
I buried my head in Mom's shoulder and hugged her. I didn't want her to let me go, but she did. The moment of warmth between us was gone.
“Now, it's time for you to leave.” Through my tear-filled eyes, I watched her walk to the door again and hold it open.
I knew our conversation was over. There was no room to argue. Mom had made her decision, and I had made mine. I walked slowly toward the door, silently hoping Mom would tell me she had made a mistake, but knowing with one hundred percent certainty that she wouldn't say a word.
I reached for the security door and looked at Mom one more time. I could swear that I saw some longing in her eyes, but only for a second. Her eyes shifted so she wouldn't have to look at me.
“I love you, Mom,” I said, choking up as I walked through the door.
“I know,” she replied.
Those were her last words to me. I stood in the driveway for a long time, wanting to go back inside. Maybe she was looking out the window hoping for the same thing. I like to think that she was. But she didn't come out and I didn't go back in. Eventually, I got on my ride and headed back to the love of my life—Ray.
I wondered what Mom would say if she knew about my current situation. My mind conjured up images of her wagging her fingers in front of my face and saying, “I told you so.” I was so caught up in my thoughts about the last conversation with Mom that I never heard the car pulling up. I never heard the doors open. I didn't hear anything except my own thoughts until I heard a male voice calling out my name.
“Crystal Marie Sells?” My name sounded more like a foggy question. I could barely hear it.
“Are you Crystal Marie Sells?” the voice asked again, this time more clearly.
I whipped around prepared to ask, “Who wants to know?” When I saw the man speaking to me, I froze. He was dressed in standard ghetto gear, baggy jeans, oversized T-shirt, and Jordans. He was dark-skinned, like chocolate, with dark eyes, and a smooth face. Another man standing behind him wore similar clothes. He was lighter and cuter than his friend, but his expression was the same. I didn't know these dudes.
I searched for some sort of familiarity. If they were members of the Cruz, I had never seen them. My first thought was
gang bangers looking for Ray's bag
. My heart lurched at the thought of them pulling out guns and firing at me. I knew what was in Ray's bag, and I thought I knew what it was for, but that didn't mean other people didn't know about it too. The Cruz had rivals, and I had a well-known face. My heart was pounding as I thought about what to do. In a split second, I decided to lie, to say I knew nothing. I would take my chances that I could still bluff with the best of them.

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