The Banks Sisters (3 page)

Bunny laughed and ear hustled as she always did on the rest of the conversation.

Bunny fixed two sandwiches one for her and the other for Spoe and was sitting on the bar stool eating, when Tariq said to Spoe, “You heard bout them simple ass niggas, Mike and dem', from Jay-Dubb?”

Jay-Dubb was the hood's nickname for Jackson Ward, a famous area downtown Richmond, where wealthy blacks once socialized, owned businesses and allowed themselves to be entertained. An area, where, the legendary actor and dancer Bill BoJangles Robinson, who called Richmond his home and Jackson Ward his playground, had been immortalized by a statue on the corner of Clay and Adams—his likeness suited and booted in the middle of an elaborate tap number for eternity. But now, though slowly being revitalized, Jackson Ward is mostly known for its infamous housing project, poverty, crime, murder, and most of all . . . drugs.

Spoe paused in thought. He knew a few Mikes, and Jay-Dubb wasn't known for producing the city's brightest cats. “Which Mike?” he asked after drawing a blank.

“Crackhead Mike that Juked robbed.”

Rob was a careless dope boy from the West End. That got caught with his pants down in his stash house with a stripper named Peaches. Peaches was Mike's cousin, and the brains behind the hit. Trusting his dick, a mistake on Rob's part, cost him thirty-two zones of coke and his life.

“What about him?” Spoe asked.

Tariq looked at Spoe unable to believe he hadn't heard. “It's been on the news all evening.” Then it dawned on him, “Oh, but you and sis been in here on y'all baby making shit today.”

Spoe shooed him off, “That's right tho'.”

“On some fucking renegade shit.... Dude tried to knock off, the Bank on Jefferson Avenue. And got smoked by five-oh in the process. Them niggas was battling with the police, in the middle of the street, in broad day light, straight on some cold-blooded-Wild-Wild-West shit.”

Spoe, interest peaked but not surprised, asked, “Fuck outta here. Who was with him?”

Tariq shared what he knew from the news and what the streets were saying. “His cousin Benny and two of his little homies. five-oh sparked all of them.” Tariq kept going not showing one bit of sympathy for the lives lost. “I heard them niggas jacked off too much time inside—all high on that coke and shit. Jakes were laying on them soon as they came out and it was on.”

Spoe, bred to put in work, summed up Mike's flaws in one word: “Stupid,” then asked Bunny to turn on the television, which she was already on it—channel surfing desperate to find the news breaking story.

A cat commercial was on NBC. Bunny tried the other three local networks, neither were showing the news at the time.

“Oh, shit!” A nervous Bunny thought out loud. “You said Jefferson Avenue right? It wasn't the Metro Bank was it?” she asked.

“Yes it was,” Tariq said with nod.

Suddenly it dawned on Bunny that her oldest sister, Simone was supposed to start working at that very bank today. Silently, she prayed,
“Lord, please don't have let anything bad possibly happen to Simone.”

Then she asked, Tariq, “Did anyone working at the bank get hurt?” Fingers crossed, hoping the answer was no.

That hope crashed and burned when Tariq said, “I think it was a security guard, and at least one employee, maybe two,” he said. “But I'm not sure 'cause they say the details was sketchy, but heard that shit was a blood bath inside the bank and outside.”

Bunny's blood froze as the chills went up her spine. She immediately reached for the phone.

She tried to call Simone, and the phone just rang and the voicemail came on. Then tried calling a few more times and still no response.

Though unlike most siblings, they didn't actually grow up their entire lives in the same house, they were still very close and kept in touch. Like all siblings, they had their differences and would bicker and argue, but make no mistake about it, that was still her big sister, whom she loved dearly and she'd go to war for.

Shit wasn't looking or sounding good at all . . . but what else could she do but try to keep hope alive?

Two hours later . . .

Bunny had stormed out of her apartment and rushed to her grandmother's house. When she arrived, Bunny's and Simone's younger sisters, Tallhya and Ginger were already there.

Tallhya was twenty-five; two years younger than Bunny, and Ginger at age twenty-four was the baby of the bunch. As she took a seat on the living room couch, all three looked at each other but none of them spoke. There was an unspoken understanding between the sisters to just sit and wait for one of their phones to ring. After half an hour of sitting in silence, the only thing that could be heard were Bunny's tall thigh high Tom Ford boots' heels clacking back and forth when she stood up and began striding up and down

“Can you stop pacing the damn floor please,” Ginger their youngest sister said. “Just sit your ass down. Everything's gonna be okay.”

Bunny heard her youngest sister, but at the same time she couldn't help but worry about her older sister.

“God won't take her away from us like this,” Tallhya the middle sister chimed in. Out of the four sisters, Tallhya was the soft spoken one. The way she was, you would've thought she was the youngest of them all. She had this gullible innocence about her and because of it, her sisters were constantly trying to toughen her up.

“Yeah, because God forbid something happens, on everything I love, it ain't going to be nothing nice.” She shook her head, “This is some bullshit, she don't deserve to be caught up in no shit like this.” Bunny fumed.

Bunny decided to change her scenery and go to the kitchen to sit at her grandmother's kitchen table. She thought maybe if she sat at the table where she shared so many good memories with her sisters, it would help her feel a little better. Her foot was nervously bouncing off the floor. She'd dialed Simone's number for what felt like the fiftieth time. This time, instead of it ringing like all the other times she called, the call went straight to voicemail. And Simone's phone never went to voicemail. She was always dependable and on point. Out of all of the four sisters, Simone was the oldest and the most responsible one.

“Look, if Miss-Goodie-Too-Shoes was okay, she would've made a way to call us by now. And she would've seen all our missed calls. She usually answers her phone or calls right back.” Bunny made a good point. “Some shit musta gone down with her. Maybe we should call the hospital and see if she's there”

“Yeah, you right Buns. Her ole considerate-ass would've called us by now if she was all right,” Ginger had to agree.

“Not the best sign,” Tallhya added. “But there's probably a perfectly good explanation.”

It didn't help that the police and the bank refused to disclose any information about the robbery, let alone about who'd been injured.

Bunny sucked her teeth. “The bank could at least have fucking common courtesy for their employees' families. And call and say look we can't give no details but your sister is okay.”

“Maybe theyre working on getting the employee emergency information,” Tallhya said trying to stay positive

The vibe was glum.

The sister's signature gray eyes that normally sparkled and lit up a room—were at half-mast.

The captivating gray eyes and high-cheek bones, deep dimples were gifts passed down from their mother, Deidra, who was a deadbeat mom who was usually,nowhere to be found. Except with Deidra, being conspicuously absent was nothing new. All their lives, the only thing that was consistent with their mother was that Deidra only had time for Deidra. She had only given them two things: life and their enchantingly gorgeous looks.

The sisters were drop dead gorgeous, beauty queen beautiful. In fact, Simone had participated in pageants since she was about nine years old. As a young adult she had even won on a state level. She had that Vanessa Williams regal-kind-of beauty: sophisticated, well spoken, educated, and with a lot of book sense as well as common sense. Bunny on the other hand was a ghetto princess, Keisha from Belly kind of fine, she too had participated in church pageants when she was a little girl and had won Ms. Churchill, East End, and was also the Homecoming Queen. But she never competed in national beauty pageants. Growing up and hanging out with the thugs in her school, she was rough around the edge. She had only attended one year of community college, but was very book smart and had more street smarts than any one female should have. She should've been the boy of the bunch, because she was bold, and had the heart of a lion. The girl overall was as sharp as the knife she kept on her at all times.

Bunny and her sisters, were raised by their Me-Ma, Mildred Banks. Me-Ma was a strong, God fearing woman that had done the best job she could with her granddaughters. Her daughter Deidra had dropped off all four of them when they were just days old and even though Me-Ma felt too old to raise kids again, she didn't have the heart to turn her back on them.

Bursting the bubble of silence, Ginger said what they all were thinking. “What if Simone got shot?” Bunny and Tallhya kept their heads down, each sulking in her own thoughts. Ginger continued, “What if she's—”

Bunny cut her off.

“Stop it right there, Ginger.” She turned and hissed at her. “Just shut the fuck up. Don't even say that kind of shit.” She'd had enough of the negative talking and thinking. “We are not fittin' to sit here and talk no crazy shit like that into our reality. That's what we not gon' do,” she said. “You hear me?”

Ginger rolled her eyes.

“It ain't like y'all wasn't thinking the same shit. I'm just the only one with the balls to say it,” Ginger said, challenging her sister. Ginger was the baby, but she had always been the tough-ass of the four. She was outspoken and unapologetic about the things she said. She was also short tempered and quick to get in somebody's face if they said or insinuated something she didn't like. She was a lot like Bunny except she could get a lot more ignorant. Whereas Bunny was the type to ask questions first, Ginger jumped to her own conclusions and acted on them with no hesitation. But the irony of all this was that Ginger was the most girly girl of the sisters. Always in heels, never in sneakers, Ginger was always dressed like she was about to walk the runway.

Bunny shot Ginger an intense look that Ginger knew all too well. Bunny started walking to get in Ginger's face when. Tallhya busted out laughing.

Ginger turned her nose up and asked, “What the fuck is so funny? 'Cause it ain't a gotdamn thing funny about my sister dying.”

Tallhya cut her eye at Bunny, laughed some more, then looked back at Ginger.

Ginger, sitting all proper in her tight jeans and studded stillettos was like, “What? What Bitch? What?”

Tallhya was by now in tears of laughter and couldn't even get her words out, she was laughing so hard.

Bunny not usually late to the draw, was now getting the joke, and cracked up laughing too.

That's when Tallhya, shared the content of the joke, said, “You're the only one in here with balls—period!”

Ginger didn't like that at all. She huffed and puffed, “You fucking bitch! Your ass makes me fucking sick.”

“It is what it is Gin. Don't get mad. You set yourself up for that one!” Bunny said in between chuckles, “Now act like you got some balls and take it like a man,” Bunny exclaimed laughing even harder this time.

What could, Ginger do? The truth was always in a joke, “You got me that time, Tale I set myself up.” Ginger admitted as she joined them in laughter.

All three of them-cracked up laughing as if it was the funniest joke ever. Truth was, Ginger did have balls- literally. Born one hundred percent boy, his mother named him Gene. But from the day that she started walking and talking, it was obvious that either God or one of HIS workers had made a mistake when it came to Ginger's gender. Ginger acted like a girl and always wanted to wear dresses. After a few years of fighting Me-Ma every morning when it was time to get dressed, Me-Ma gave in and let Gene wear what he wanted. And even though he was a boy, Gene had inherited the same high cheek bones and good looks from his mother which made him the epitime of a pretty boy so it was easy for him to pass himself off as a girl. All he had to do was let his curly hair grow out.

For this reason, Ginger had always been considered as just another one of those Banks girls. Sometimes they were compared to the Braxton sisters, except the Banks girls were prettier and neither of them could hold a note to save their collective lives.

“Fo' real tho', that shit was funny,” Ginger exclaimed. She knew how to roll with the punches and she loved to laugh at a joke even though it was at her expense this time.

“Hell yea, that shit was funny,” Bunny said still tearing and laughing.

Ginger rolled her eyes. The mesmerizing gray eyes, along with a tight body, that had seduced a many of so-called straight men into her world of cross dressing. She loved that empowering feeling she got when she slayed, conquered a straight man and dicked him down. Gene really wanted to get her boobs done but she never wanted to cut her penis off. She actually enjoyed using her “fun stick” as she called it.

“Will somebody share the joke with me? I could damn sure use a laugh.” A visibly shaken Simone said as she stood in the front door way. The sisters were so caught up in their conversation, they didn't hear when she unlocked or opened the door to let herself in.

Simone always made sure she looked presentable from head to toe and she always took the extra step to make sure she looked her best, but judging her appearance right now was a definite indication that she had had a rough day. Her cocoa brown smooth face had smudged eyeliner under her eyes, her make-up was smeared, and she had a small cut on her bottom lip. And her normally long bone, Pocohontas straight black hair needed a brush to it bad. Her black pencil skirt had dirt all over it, and her once crisp white Anne Fontaine shirt was wrinkled and possessed bloodstains, but what was she to do? Normally she would have never had a hair out of place, but at this very moment she was just happy to be alive. Simone stood there like a statue.

“Simone!” Tallhya was a thick girl. Not in a fat kind of way though. Even though she could fit some plus size clothes, she was thick in all the right places. She took more after her thick boned grandmother, but either way she was always light on her feet. She quickly jumped up and wrapped her arms around her sister so tight that she almost cut off her circulation.

“Oh my God! I'm so happy, you are okay!” she said. “We've been worried sick about you.”

Simone shrugged. Okay? What did that really mean? Okay? How could she really ever be ok, the way her life had seem to been taken the wrong turn down a dark dead end alley, with one brick wall after another.

Her father, her biggest support system and benefactor, had died six months ago. She was now living back in the hood with Me-Ma because her father's wife, Marjorie, had thrown her out of her daddy's house before his body could even get cold. And today, she had had a gun pointed to her head, felt the feeling of somebody else's warm blood splatter on her and not to mention she had almost literally died . . . Hell no she wasn't okay.

Not to mention, the police were holding her favorite purse hostage. “I am living, so if that's what we are talking about, I guess I'm okay,” she said. “It couldn't get much worse. So, it could only get much better . . . I hope . . . and pray!” she said trying not to let her tears out, then flashed a fake smile.

Ginger, quick to say the first thing on her mind said, “Girl, we thought yo' ass was dead.” Bunny and Tallhya stared poisonous darts at Ginger, shut the fuck up sometime, the looks said. “Whatever,” said Ginger, “Y'all bitches thought it, too.”

“How come you didn't answer your phone?” asked Bunny, ignoring Ginger silly-ass. “Bitch, I was worried fucking sick about your ass. I drove over here like a bat out of hell trying to hurry up and get here because I was just to pieces when I heard.” Bunny started going on a dramatic rant, back to usual narcissistic self . “And the police probably be here at any time now to take my got damn drivers license from speeding.”

“My apologies sister.” Simone said as sympathetically as she knew how. “I didn't mean to make you do that.”

“It's okay, Mona.” Bunny said to her sister after making her feel even worst than she already was.

“But, my phone was high jacked during the robbery.” Simone kicked off her heels and plopped down in one of the chairs at the table. “And not to mention my purse, the robbers took it, which is where my phone was. And the police were intensely interviewing us. And the worst part was I had the worst headache the entire time. It was all as if I was living in the Matrix or something.”

“Sister, oh my God, that's the worst,” Tallhya looked into her sister's eyes wishing that she could fix it.

“Not your Chanel Boy bag?” Bunny asked with a raised eyebrow trying to change the subject, all of the talk of the violence, and the fact that there was really nothing she could do to get it back, was making her mad.

Simone nodded feeling sick to her stomach as she thought about everything that happened to her today.

“That's why you should've let me borrow it, when I asked you for it,” Ginger had to get her dig in.

Bunny scooped an unopened bottle of Cognac from her Celine purse. “You look like you could use a drink,” she said.

Tallhya's eyes bucked like Bunny had pulled out a snake instead of a bottle. “You no damn well Me-Ma doesn't allow any alcohol in her house,” she said as a reminder. “Why are you carrying liquor around in your pocketbook anyway?” She shook her head.