Harlem Girl Lost (12 page)

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Authors: Treasure E. Blue

BOOK: Harlem Girl Lost
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Suddenly a corner of the mattress was lifted up, and the masked man spoke softly. “Get your shit together. This shit ain't for you.”

“Yo, Dupree, let's bounce out this bitch!” a man yelled.

Jesse realized that the masked killer was none other than Dupree, the kid she'd saved from being murdered by Chubbs in the alley. Slowly, Dupree turned to walk out of the room. At the door he stopped briefly and addressed Jesse.

“Now we're even.”

Chapter 10

PAYBACK

S
ilver was doing her double-dutch thing, skipping and twirling through the rope, when she suddenly stopped. “Look,” she said. The girls turned to where she pointed and saw Problem and the rest of his crew pushing Diego to the back of the schoolyard.

Missy shook her head. “Yo, Silver, I know what you're thinking, but why the fuck you want to help Diego after he punked out on you in class?”

Silver knew she was right and remained silent.

Missy continued. “I'm saying, yo … I don't mind throwing some joints and all, but yo, you can't keep fighting his battles for him. Diego got to learn to start standing up for himself.”

“I hear you,” Silver answered. “But he was just afraid Problem would get him later. Besides, this ain't helping Diego. I want some payback for him getting me on detention.” Suddenly Silver smiled. “Yo, I just thought of something … just follow my lead.” She stepped from between the ropes as Missy and the rest of the girls followed closely behind. Seeing Silver and her crew coming, Tyrell tapped Problem on the shoulder
and gave him the heads-up. Looking around at the girls, Problem tried to act tough.

“Fuck do y'all want?”

Silver only smiled and remained silent. Her mother had always told Silver that if a person had done wrong, remain silent and let them tell on themselves. Problem attempted to carry on with his business of robbing Diego, but was uneasy now with all the eyes on him. He continued to look over his shoulder until finally he yelled in frustration, “Fuck is y're all over my dick for sweatin’ me and shit?”

The other girls caught on and simply folded their arms like Silver. It was a silent standoff until Problem's cohorts began to walk away, not wanting any part of it. Seeing his boys desert him, Problem attempted to run away, but Silver and the girls blocked him. “You ain't so bad without your friends around, are you?” Silver said.

Looking around at their faces, Problem remained silent.

“What's the matter?” Missy asked. “Cat got your fat tongue? Why you ain't saying something now? Are you afraid?”

“I ain't afraid of nothing,” Problem sneered.

That was exactly what Silver had thought he would say. “Well, if you're not afraid, you'd give Diego a fair one?”

Diego's jaw dropped, and Problem looked at Silver as if she were insane.

“Diego said that if you ain't had your punk-ass friends with you all the time, he would kick your ass a long time ago.”

By now, other students had started to crowd around, smelling a fight.

Problem looked at a terrified Diego. “A'ight, punk … let's
do this.” Problem got even bolder when he saw Tyrell had returned with some backup. Confident, he began to boast. “And when I finish waxing this punk,” he said, loud enough for everybody to hear, “I'm gonna end that other shit you talkin’ and bust your skinny ass for always being in my bidness.”

Silver smiled. “Yeah, right, nigger. You better just worry about getting past Diego.”

“We'll see!” Problem said, pounding his palm with his fist.

Silver and Missy surrounded Diego as he nervously began to plead, “Silver, I … I don't know about this, I don't know how to fight.”

Missy jumped in and did her best Ali impression. “It ain't nothing to it, Diego. Just bob and weave, nigger!”

“What?” Diego asked.

“Stick and fuckin’ move!” Missy said.

“What?” Diego asked, still blank.

“Just kick his ass!” Missy yelled in frustration.

Shaking his head, Diego started making excuses not to fight. “But I never had a fight! I don't know how! I'm afraid!” Terror and shame filled his eyes, and he lowered his gaze.

Silver lifted his head up and looked him square in the face. “Listen, Diego, you ain't got no time to be scared!”

Turning away from her, the scared boy watched Problem loosen up for the fight. But Silver put her hands on his face and made him look at her.

“Look at me, Diego. You got to stand up to Problem or he's gonna rob you every day. Is that what you want?” He shook his head, and she pointed to Problem. “Look at him, Diego. That's the nigger who robbed your mama!”

“What?” Diego asked, confused.

Silver winked at Missy. “Yeah, you remember that time you told us that somebody snatched your mother's purse?”

“Yeah,” Diego said.

“Well … it was Problem, but I ain't want to tell you, since I ain't no snitch or nothing, but I'm telling now.” She pointed directly at him. “That fat fucker right there was the one that stole from your mama.” She paused to let it sink in. “Look at him, Diego … he laughing at you.”

“Laughing at you and yo’ mama!” Missy added.

“Picture it in your mind, Diego,” Silver said. “Your mama minding her business when he—that nigga right there—runs by and snatch your sweet old mama's purse!”

“And knocked her down, scraped her knees, and everything!” Missy put in.

“Can you see it?” Silver continued. “She is crying and asking for help: ‘Help me,
papi! Papi
, help me!’ How do you say ‘help’ in Spanish?” Diego began getting angrier and angrier, and his nostrils began to flare.

“You gonna let that thief get away with that shit, big boy?” Missy said.

“Hell, no!” Diego said angrily.

Missy caressed his face and spoke seductively in his ear. “As a matter of fact, you kick his ass and I'll let you get some of
this
ass.”

Not believing his ears, Diego looked at Missy to see if she was serious. He turned and glanced at Problem, then back at Missy. Then, out of nowhere, Diego let out a hostile yell and charged Problem.

Problem tried to intimidate him with the Rikers Island shit
called the fifty-two, swinging his hands while bobbing and weaving. Silver and Missy instructed Diego how to fight, as real trainers would in professional bouts.

“That's right, Diego! Left hook!”
Whap!
Amazingly, Diego caught Problem with a left.

“Now a right hook, Diego!”
Whap!

“That's right, Diego, fuck him up … Yeah, yeah … You got him down, Diego … Now stomp him! Stomp his fat ass!”

Problem was on the ground curled up in a fetal position, protecting his head, as Diego stomped him, letting out years of frustration. Problem tried to get up and run away but fell and scrambled to his feet several times before finally gaining his balance. The entire school laughed at the school bully breaking his neck to get away, and moments later, everybody surrounded Diego, cheering him on, patting his back, congratulating him. Missy stepped through the crowd and gave him a seductive kiss on the mouth. Astonished, Diego looked at her and then passed out.

A knock on Birdie's
door startled him. “I done told y'all niggas to stay away from my door!” He looked through the peephole. “Who the hell is it?”

“It's me, Birdie …Jesse!”

Recognizing the voice, he looked through the peephole again. “Jesse?” he said, and quickly unlatched the door, but when he saw her, his hands flew to his heart. “Dear Lord!” Shock and disbelief shot through his body. Even though it had been only five months since he'd last seen her, he could not fathom the trauma and destruction that she had inflicted on
herself. Jesse was a mere shell of her former self, barely recognizable. What stood before him now was a filthy, wretched eighty-five-pound woman in tattered, stained rags. Though Jesse was only twenty-seven, she now looked closer to sixty-seven. The damage she had done to herself was so extensive, Birdie could only cry, not believing his eyes as he stared into her sad, tear-filled ones. Arms outstretched, Jesse was in desperate need of a hug.

“I want to come home,” she pleaded. “I want to come home.”

Birdie felt overwhelmed. “Oh, Jesse … of course you can come home!” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Don't cry, baby … it's okay. You're home now, you're home now.” Holding on to Birdie for dear life, Jesse sobbed like a lost child.

“I'm ready to kick this shit. I can't take it no more!”

“All right, all right, Jesse, I'm with you,” Birdie said, taking her inside. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”

“No … please, Birdie, I … I can kick it if you help me, like … like we did last time. You can tie me down real good, you remember?”

Birdie did remember, and it had been like hell fighting the drug cold turkey. “Okay, Jesse. I'm here for you.”

“I want to get cleaned up before Silver gets home. I don't want her to see me like this.” Jesse babbled incoherently about her hair and her clothes, while Birdie gently patronized her. Suddenly, the front door swung open and Silver ran inside.

“Auntie Birdie … Auntie Birdie, you should have seen the fight at school today. This bully named Problem—” She stopped short when she realized Birdie had a rare guest in the
house. The three of them stared at each other for several moments before Jesse smiled, revealing her yellowish teeth.

“Silver, baby, it's me … Mommy!”

Silver looked at her, then to Birdie, then back at Jesse, and ran to her room and slammed the door.

Birdie helped Jesse shower and cleaned her up the best that he could, but she still looked like hell. Her clothes were now four sizes too big and fell off her. Jesse was so upset that Silver was hurt at the sight of her that she asked Birdie if she should talk to her, but Birdie said that he would talk to her first.

Birdie softly knocked on Silver's door and walked in. Silver sat on her bed doing her homework as if nothing had happened. “Silver … are you okay?” he asked cautiously. Silver continued silently working on her homework. Moving closer, Birdie bent down and smiled. “Didn't I tell you your mother would come home?” Still silent, Silver continued to write in her notebook. Birdie put his hand on Silver's, stopping her from writing. “Silver, aren't you happy that your mother is finally back home?”

“That's not my mother,” Silver snapped. “Now get out of my room!”

Birdie nodded in understanding and quietly left.

Later that night
, Jesse began to experience the tremendous pain of heroin and crack withdrawal. Birdie had to tie her legs and arms to the bedposts. Sweat drenched Jesse as she became delusional and began to hallucinate.

“Birdie, please … I … I'm only gonna get just one hit …
just one hit and I come right back, I swear. Please, Birdie … let me go, you bitch! Please let me go.”

Crying, Birdie felt her pain, but this was the only way. He wept, not only for Jesse but also for Silver, who could surely hear the shrieks of madness coming from her mother's bedroom.

“Do you hear her? She is coming to get my baby!”

“Who?” Birdie asked.

“Shh! You don't hear that?”

Jesse was spooked. Her eyes bulged as she listened earnestly for the sound.

“I don't hear anything,” Birdie said. “What is it?”

“She coming to get her … my mother … don't let her in, don't let her in … she's coming to get my baby … Birdie, don't let her get my baby!”

“I won't,” Birdie assured her. “It's okay.”

“Birdie, promise me!” Jesse snapped. “Promise me that if something should ever happen to me, you won't let her get my baby. Don't let that woman do to her what she did to me … Promise me!”

“I promise, Jesse, I promise,” Birdie soothed her, trying to calm her down.

Hours, then days passed
, and Jesse survived the critical moments. At one point, Silver walked timidly into Jesse's room to have a look at this woman who claimed to be her mother. Still looking like death, Jesse nevertheless managed a slight smile even though she felt as if she were dying. This was the best opportunity, she thought, to educate her daughter on the dangers
and effects of drugs. It was better for Silver to suffer through seeing her this way than to suffer from the same thing herself someday. “Silver,” Jesse grunted as she fought through the pain, “I want you to listen. They got this new shit out—it's called crack.” She shook her head and explained. “Smoking that shit … that glass fuckin’ dick … is like sucking the dick of the devil himself. That shit makes heroin seem like Ex-cedrin!” Her bloodshot eyes stared at Silver as if her whole life depended on her words, and she began to cry. “That stuff messed me up bad, baby. It will take your soul from you … bring you to your knees.” Tears began to fall from Silver's eyes.

“I saw a whole lot of people die just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Jesse continued. “I'm supposed to be dead right now, but I guess God got different plans for me.” Turning her head to see if Silver was paying attention, she lashed out. “Silver, don't let no motherfuckers ever tell you no different. Don't let none of them fool you about these drugs! Don't you smoke a joint, don't you pop no pill, and don't let them fool you into thinking alcohol is okay, ‘cause it's not! That shit is all the same.” She grew desperate. “Do you hear me, Silver?”

“Yes, Mommy … I won't,” Silver cried.

“Birdie!” Jessie called out.

“I'm here, Jesse, I'm here.”

“Take these fuckin’ sheets off of me!”

Fretting at the thought, Birdie looked over at an already shaken Silver and shook his head. “I—I don't think that's a good idea, Jesse.”

“Bitch! I don't give a damn what you think,” Jesse said, incensed.
“She's going to see everything! Now take these damn sheets off of me!”

Full of apprehension, Birdie looked from Silver to Jesse and reluctantly complied with her orders and slowly pulled the sheets off of her. Silver's eyes widened as she observed the protruding bones and sallow skin that was now her mother's rail-thin body. Her skin was covered with hideous black and blue sores that blotched her entire body. She looked like death. Silver shuddered.

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