Keysha's Drama (17 page)

S
everal hours later, I learned that I was being charged with possession of a controlled substance with the intent to distribute it. Asia, a woman of Chinese descent whom my father went to undergrad school with, was the attorney he hired. Asia informed us that it was going to be a long, hard fight, especially if the batch of Ecstasy found in my locker was linked to the batch that caused a severe reaction in the people at the Tricked Out dance club. And especially since one kid actually got brain damage from the stuff.

“If she's found guilty, you should expect a civil lawsuit from the parents of the child with brain damage to follow,” said Asia.

“But I didn't do it. That's not my stuff,” I said.

“I know and I believe you. We just have to make a judge believe you. We do have several things in our favor. You don't have any criminal history and there is no medical file that indicates you've had addiction problems. I'm going to be honest with both of you. The prosecution is under pressure to bring someone to justice. Apparently, according to police, there has been a recent invasion of Ecstasy in this community, and they want to stop it.”

“But I don't even know where to get the stuff,” I said.

“That's another thing. The prosecution contends that they have a witness who says that they saw you with a man named Trinity Neophus Friday night at Tricked Out. Police say he has strong ties to the drug world.”

“I have no clue as to who that is. And whoever this witness is they've found is flat-out lying.”

“Were you at this club last Friday evening?” asked Asia.

“Yes, I was there, but I don't remember everything that happened. I got sick and fainted. My brother had to bring me home.”

Asia exhaled. “Look, we're free to leave now. Bail has been posted, and we'll be notified of a court date in the coming weeks. Keysha, it is very important that you don't talk to anyone other than me, your father or mom about this case. Anything that you mention to friends at school can be used against you in court.”

“So I need to keep my mouth shut about all of this?” I asked.

“Yes. And under no circumstances should you speak with the media. That's my job as your attorney.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling as if I'd somehow gotten myself into something that was way over my head.

When we arrived home it was around six-thirty in the evening. No sooner had we set foot in the house, than Barbara began snapping out on Jordan.

“Do you see now, Jordan? She's too much,” Barbara began talking about me. Before, she would at least wait until I was in another room, but now she just didn't care whether I heard what she said or not. “This girl is going to rip us apart!”

Jordan sat down on the sofa in the family room. Now I wanted to be there for him. I wanted to defend and fight for him the way he'd done for me.

“I'm not trying to rip you apart,” I said. Barbara's eyes became slits in her face.

“Listen, you little—”

“That's enough, Barbara,” Jordan cut her off. She took her attention off me and focused back on Jordan. I went and sat down next to my daddy.

“We are going to stick together on this,” Jordan said. “We're going to get through this storm—”

“You believe her, don't you?” Barbara had a shocked expression on her face. “Jordan, how can you be so blind?”

“I'm telling the truth,” I said, hoping she'd understand.

“Okay, hang on a minute,” Barbara said. She marched out of the room and returned with the letter that Grandmother Rubylee had written me. “I didn't want to have to do this but I guess you have to see it for yourself.” She handed him the letter. “Read the highlighted part.” Jordan looked down at the letter. I glanced over at it and saw that Barbara had highlighted Rubylee's request for money and bank account information.

“Do you see now, Jordan? The girl and her grandmother are plotting to clean us out! For all we know, Rubylee could be running a narcotics ring from prison, and if we're linked to it we could lose everything. The house, our lifestyle, everything!”

“Grandmother Rubylee is crazy, okay?” I said because I didn't want my daddy to think I was playing some kind of game with him.

“Why would she ask you to do something like this?” Jordan asked me. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pain.

“Daddy, I don't know. All I told her was that I'd found you and that you had a nice house.”

“Well, now she has our address and can probably send a hit squad or something over here to take us all out,” Barbara insisted. She was very passionate about her position.

“It's not like that at all,” I said. “You have everything all twisted.”

“Keysha, I want you to go upstairs while Barbara and I talk.”

“Yeah, get upstairs, because you have a lot of work to do.” Barbara's anger toward me was teetering on turning into violence.

“Come on, let's go take a ride,” I heard Jordan say to Barbara.

When I got upstairs, Mike was waiting for me on the landing. We locked eyes for a moment. He didn't say anything and neither did I, but I could tell that at that moment he didn't like me very much.

“My life was sweet until you came along,” he finally said. “Why are you doing this to us?”

“I didn't do anything, Mike,” I said sincerely.

“I've never seen my mom go so crazy,” he said, pointing to my bedroom. I looked down the hall toward my bedroom. It looked as if a tornado had gone through it.

“What did she do?” I asked as I rushed into my bedroom.

“She really lost it when she found out about drugs being found in your locker. She demolished your bedroom,” Mike said. My bedroom was a complete disaster. Every dresser drawer had been pulled out and dumped out. All of my clothes were turned inside out, and all of the pockets were hanging out of them. She even cut open my mattress and pulled out the foam. As my mind processed all of this I felt weak. I placed my back against the door frame and slid down to the floor. I closed my eyes, and placed my face in my hands.

“Why is my life such a mess?” I spoke aloud. “Why can't things ever go right for me?”

T
he following day I didn't go to school because I'd been suspended. I didn't sleep well, my stomach was sour and I felt as if I were coming down with the flu. Around midmorning I turned on the television to catch the news and to my surprise and horror, reporter Angela Rivers was doing a follow-up story on the Ecstasy problem in my neck of the woods.

Angela paused briefly while video interviews played of residents talking about how they wanted school officials to get rid of any student who was involved in any way with the drugs. My heart began to beat very fast and I began to panic and hyperventilate. I couldn't believe how serious the residents were about kicking me out of the neighborhood.

Angela concluded her report, and I turned off the television. I now felt sicker than I ever had before.

That evening I sat in the family room with Mike and watched the school board meeting on our local community cable channel. The meeting was held inside the high school cafeteria, and it was packed with parents and students from not only my high school but other high schools within my district. I watched as they talked about issues regarding building repairs, school supplies and funding for extracurricular activities. Everything seemed to be going fine and no one mentioned anything about the drug problem until they reached a part on the agenda that called for open comment. Then, all hell broke loose. Parents were yelling at the board members about protecting their children. One person even wanted random searches of student lockers. Then some lady stood up and attacked Barbara directly.

“Mrs. Kendall, I've heard that this drug problem didn't seem to appear until your stepdaughter began attending Thornwood High School. It is also rumored that she is the one actually behind all of this. In light of this, don't you think it would be wise for you to step down as school board president?” My heart dropped when I heard that lady ask such a mean question.

“Oh, go to hell, lady,” Mike shouted at the television screen.

“Why would she ask a question like that?” I asked Mike. I didn't like Barbara very much but I certainly didn't wish for her to be put on public display. In my mind I knew that she was going to say something negative about me and I didn't know if I could take hearing it. Barbara repositioned herself in her seat before speaking into the microphone.

“To place such a heavy blame on my stepdaughter would be unfair. Let's keep in mind that what you've heard are only allegations. She has not and never has been convicted of a crime.”

“So are you saying that she didn't have the drugs in her locker?” The woman pressed the issue.

“No, what I'm saying is you're asking me about a personal situation with my family that I feel is inappropriate to bring up at this meeting.”

“Get her, Momma,” Mike shouted out. It was the first time that I realized just how strong Barbara was.

“However, to ease your concerns I will tell you that I believe my stepdaughter has been wrongly accused and that I do not believe she has or ever did intend to become a dope pusher. My family and I stand united with her, and we will have our day in court where her innocence will be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“That's right, Mama, you tell them. They just can't push us around.” Mike continued to taunt the television. My jaw hit the floor. I couldn't believe Barbara actually defended me. I was speechless and didn't know what to think. I looked at Mike, who pressed the mute button on the television.

“So do you believe me?” I asked him.

“My mom went through your bedroom like a mad woman. She thought for sure she'd find a hidden stash of something, but she didn't. This morning on my way to school she shared a family secret that I never knew about. Her older sister used to be on drugs, and she watched how it destroyed her and my grandparents. Eventually she got help, but not until after a whole lot of emotional damage. Anyway, she was glad that she didn't find anything. The fact that she didn't gave you credibility in her eyes. You have to understand something, Keysha. I may have been mean to you but I never wanted any harm to come to you. Even after you hit me with the broomstick, I wasn't mad at you because I knew that I had it coming. When I saw you at the dance club I knew something wasn't right. You weren't yourself at all. After you left me I tried to find Liz because I wanted to know what the deal was. I wanted to know why you were acting so differently. When I couldn't find her I started searching for you again. One of the guys on the football team told me you were out in the parking lot and several guys were taunting you. By the time I got back out there with the guys, you had fallen to the ground and they were about to have their way with you. That just wasn't cool. Even if I did fight with you all the time, I wasn't going to stand by and watch them violate you.”

Mike paused in thought and I suddenly saw him as a completely different person. He'd actually come to my rescue when I needed help. Now that I was thinking clearly, I saw that the entire family was standing by my side. No one was going to leave me hanging.

“Thank you,” I said and remained quiet for a moment. “What about you? Do you believe me?” I held my breath as I awaited his answer.

“Yeah, I believe you,” he said as he turned the volume back up. I wanted to hug him. I wanted him to know that it meant a great deal to me to have his support.

“I'm so lucky to have a kid brother like you,” I said. I draped my arm over his shoulder and gave him a big hug. It felt so good to have a family who cared about me. I wanted to cry again, but I didn't because I knew Mike would think that I was way too emotional. I enjoyed that moment we had with each other and looked forward to having more of them because I knew that I'd need them, especially once the trial began.

S
hortly after dinner I went upstairs to my bedroom, which was still messed up from Barbara's tirade. I started picking up a few of my belongings but stopped because the clean-up job was overwhelming. Instead, I rested on my bed, which wasn't very comfortable but I still tried to find a good position that didn't feel too awkward. As I relaxed on my back with my eyes closed, the image of being handcuffed and taken to jail kept flashing in my mind. I thought I'd fall asleep easily but that just wasn't the case because my mind wouldn't shut off. Another image of a judge slamming down a gavel and saying, “You're guilty,” kept replaying itself. Even though I knew I was innocent I felt that I was hexed and everything that could go wrong would go wrong during the trial and I would be hauled off to jail for a crime I didn't commit. I attempted to calm my nerves by taking several deep breaths but it had no impact whatsoever on my paranoia.

After tossing around and slapping my forehead with the palm of my hands a few times, I developed a headache and concluded that no matter how hard I tried, my bed just wasn't going to feel right. I decided to go into the spare room and sleep on Grandmother Katie's bed. Once I entered her bedroom, I relaxed my tortured body on her soft bed. I know that this is going to sound strange, but as soon as I rested my head on the pillow I felt very relaxed and my headache faded away. I think it was because the pillow coverings still had a hint of her scent, which for some reason had a soothing effect on me. I think Grandmother Katie has a presence, which lingers long after she's left. I know that sounds strange but it's true, at least in my mind it is. I closed my eyes and a short time thereafter, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

When I opened my eyes again it was morning. I was surprised I slept all through the night without waking up. As I became more alert I could hear the sound of raindrops splashing against the windowpane.

“It's raining pretty hard. The wind is rather high, too.” The unexpected sound of Barbara's voice made me jump out of my skin. Once again she was sitting in a chair positioned in front of me waiting for me to wake up. I assumed she was waiting so that we could get into another catfight first thing in the morning. The fact that Barbara got some sort of twisted pleasure out of watching me sleep was very creepy and it made my skin feel as if there were a thousand ants crawling all over it. It was unsettling the way she could sneak up on me without my being aware of it. She was like a cat stalking a mouse. I sat up on the bed and looked at her. I didn't say anything because I didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure if I should thank her for standing up for me or prepare myself for a vicious exchange of words. Lord knows I didn't feel like fighting, but if she was looking for a confrontation, I was ready to do battle with her.

“This isn't easy for me.” Barbara finally shattered the silence. “I like to have order in my life. I don't like a lot of drama and I have a difficult time dealing with change. I don't tolerate ignorance or attempts to destroy the life I've worked so hard to build and protect.” Her calm tone of voice caught me off guard. I wasn't expecting her to be civil. I coiled my knees up to my chest and listened. “I destroyed your bedroom because I was certain that I'd find a stash of pills or something that would indicate you had a problem. I was also determined to prove that you were on a crusade to destroy everything I've worked so hard for.”

“I'm not like that,” I whispered to her.

“My heart knows that but my mind and logic are overriding what my heart knows to be true. You have to give me a little more time to adjust.” There was another long and awkward moment of silence before she spoke again.

“I owe you an apology, Keysha.”

“You do?” I asked, surprised.

“I judged you before I got to know you. I'm sorry I did that to you. You see, I've lived in a home with a drug user before. I know all about how abusers play tricks and how deceitful they can be.”

“I'm not a drug user or a drug seller,” I said, wanting to reassure her.

“I know you're not. Because if you were, by now I would have stumbled across your supply somewhere in this house or been able to detect your addiction problem.” Barbara stood up and drew back the curtain and watched the raindrops fall before she spoke again. “During my freshman year of high school I looked up to my older sister, who was a junior. She was one of the most popular girls on campus. She was the party-girl type and I was pretty much a tomboy who loved sports. We had a pretty decent life. Our parents loved us, we lived in a good suburban neighborhood and we did well in school. All of our normality changed the summer before my sister was to become a senior. During that summer, she met this college guy who was attending the university that was near our home. My sister loved to brag about dating a college boy.” Barbara cleared her throat. I could tell that what she was telling me was something deep and very emotional. “Anyway, my sister started hanging out at frat parties with this guy and sneaking out of the house at night to be with him. It wasn't long before he introduced her to drugs.”

“Why did she take them?” I asked. “If you guys had cool parents, a nice home and weren't struggling to make ends meet, why would she want to do drugs?”

“Peer pressure I suppose. I think she really wanted to fit in with the college crowd. She started off with pills and when that wouldn't get her high enough she began using harder drugs. It got to the point where she began stealing money from my parents in order to supply her habit. When my parents discovered the awful truth, it changed everything. They placed my sister in rehab and became overprotective of me.”

“Did your sister ever get clean?” I asked, wanting to know what happened.

“Eventually, but not before damaging our relationship to the point that I refused to speak to her for one full year.”

“What did she do?” I asked.

“The night before my junior prom, my sister had somehow gotten out of the rehab center and came home. She arrived at our door and began begging for money. When my father refused to give her money she became irate but eventually calmed down and pleaded with my parents to let her sleep in her own bed. She begged them to let her stay and not send her back to the rehab facility. She won their trust along with mine and she was allowed to stay. The following morning when I woke, I discovered that she'd stolen my mother's car along with other things she thought she could sell, including my prom dress.”

“She stole your prom dress?” I asked, completely shocked.

“Yes.” Barbara exhaled loudly.

I didn't know what to say after hearing that. I could only imagine how she must have felt.

“Anyway, there were other times that my sister conned her way back into the house. I eventually picked up on her tricks and where she hid her drugs.”

“So when did she stop?” I asked.

“Around the age of twenty when she almost died from an overdose,” said Barbara. “That was her wakeup call. She eventually got the help she wanted and needed but she took the family down a difficult road that I never want to go down again.”

I took in everything that she'd just shared and concluded that perhaps she and I aren't so different in the sense that we've both been deeply wounded by people we love.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Barbara looked at me. “Yeah,” she answered.

“If you had discovered that I had a problem, would you have kicked me out of the house?” I swallowed hard as I awaited her answer. She didn't take her eyes off me, not even for one second. As I read her expression I knew what her answer was before she gave it.

“No. I would have worked with Jordan to find help for you.” I exhaled. It was such a relief to know that she wasn't as evil as she first appeared to be.

“I'm sorry, too,” I said. “I only lashed out at you because you always seemed to be out to get me. I also want to say thank you for standing up for me in front of all those parents who were at the school board meeting. No one has ever stood up for me like that.” Barbara smiled.

“Well, I think it's about time that you start benefiting from the strength of a family that cares and sticks together. We're also going to prevail in court and get to the bottom of who is trying to destroy our happy family.” I swallowed hard because my heart was doing something weird. It was filling my body up with an emotion that was foreign to me.

“Um,” I paused because my voice was shaking. “So you're saying that you consider me to be a part of the family?”

“Yes, I do,” Barbara answered. I put my face in my hands and started crying tears of joy. Barbara came over and draped her arm around me and held on to me until I pulled myself back together.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so emotional.”

“It's okay to cry. Listen, I've brought up some cleaning supplies and trash bags so that we can clean up your room.”

“You mean you're going to help me?” I asked, wanting to be sure I heard her correctly.

“Yes,” she said with a smile.

It took a good portion of the morning for Barbara and I to get my bedroom back in order. We had to use the mattress from Grandmother Katie's room temporarily until my mattress could be replaced, but I didn't mind one bit. When we were finished I fell in love with my room all over again.