The People vs. Cashmere (16 page)
Read The People vs. Cashmere Online
Authors: Karen Williams
Chapter 20
We went to the usual hotel I met my “dates” at. Black always waited outside for me, and once the deed was done, I would go on about my business. The dough was always handed to Black though, but sometimes they gave me tips, which he always took too. He didn't let us hold much of shit. A couple dollars here or there for drink and ecstasy, that's all.
I knocked on the door and waited for the dude to tell me to enter. Once he did, I walked in the room and sat my purse down on the table. The dude's back was to me, and he was staring out the window.
“What's up? My name is Cashmere. I'm with Black.” He spun around quickly, and my eyes and his stretched to the sky. It was Caesar's brother. I shook my head and laughed. “You got the game twisted, homie, if you think I'm fucking you.”
Angelo marched up to me and snarled his lip, looking ugly as hell. “Bitch, I already paid. It's a little too late for you to be playing the sew-ditty role, ain't it? You are, after all, a dirty-ass, lowdown, sleazy ho at that.”
Can you imagine that coming from a nigga who was the lowest of the low, fucking scum of the earth? Without much thought, or any fear that this shit would come back to bite me in my ass, I spat on his punk ass and ran out of the room.
I walked down the hall to the elevators. When it beeped open, I stepped in and pressed the button for the lobby. I'd planned to tell Black no. I had never said it to him before, so maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't trip and would understand the situation if I explained it to him. My stomach floated as the elevator sailed down to the lobby.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, I jumped. Black was facing me, a calm look on his face. He stepped on silently and pushed the button for the 16th floor. I bit my lips waiting for him to speak, but he didn't.
“Black, don't make me do this shit. I fucking know him.”
“You will go back in that room, Cashmere.” He slipped closer to me, so his breath was on my cheek. First, he tried kisses, shushing me, as I continued to bitch and whine to the point where I was about to cry. When that didn't work, he hemmed me up against the wall by my neck. “You getting far too ambitious, Cashmere. Maybe I made a mistake of handling you with kid gloves. Did I, Cashmere? Huh?” He applied pressure to my neck.
Tears popped out of my eyes. “No, Black.”
“You lucky I love you, girl, else you'd be hurt. Listen to me and listen well.” His angry eyes pierced through me, and he aimed a finger in my face. “You don't make the rules in this game, I do. You're going back in that room to do old boy.”
I nodded, my heart beating fast as hell.
“Wipe your face.”
I obeyed.
Once the elevator door opened, I had no choice but to follow Black into the room I'd just abandoned. Black knocked, and as we entered, I hid behind him.
“There's been a mistake. Cashmere is down for anything.” He stepped to my right, exposing me to Angelo. “Ain't you, baby?”
I nodded, closing my eyes and sobbing.
“The bitch spit on me. Can I spit on her back?” Angelo's nostrils flared out with anger.
“Like I said, she's down for whatever.”
And spit on me he did, on my face, as the bastard rode me like he was a disc jockey, and all over my back and ass as he fucked me doggy-style. Then he spat all over his hands and smeared it all over his dick before I had to put my lips over it. And when it was time for him to cum, he sprayed me all in my face with the shit.
I didn't talk to Black after that, but he didn't give a shit. He was just as pissed at me for my “ambition,” and that landed me out there on the block after he gave me a beating like never before.
Chapter 21
Life for me wasn't no beach chair. Hell, life was infectivity. I felt like walking cancer. And my sister? She was walking death. Crack was now her middle, first, and last name, and she was chasing her own ass to get it. I personally wasn't fucking with any more drugs. Since the last time I popped ecs after that shit with Caesar's brother, I popped two pills and ended up in the hospital. And seeing my sister practically dead on her feet, I put an X to taking ecs and made a promise to myself not to ever use drugs again. My dumb ass thought I was taking the high road with ecstasy. But I found out that shit had damn near every drug imaginable in it.
Now even though it had been a year and a half since Daddy had his accident, he still had not gotten any better. I flew there solo today. Sadly it was now to the point where, just to breathe, he needed to be connected to all those damn machines. He couldn't function without them, kind of like how Desiree needed to get a hit of her pipe to handle her business. And Black had no problem supplying her with the shit, just as long as she took her ass out on that track and got him his money.
Now I knew I looked a mess, and I don't mean a mess in the physical sense. I still looked decent, still had all my hair. I had all my teeth, unlike Desiree, who was missing one of her front teeth, and was the same size pretty much, except like Mama always said, my titties would grow once they got sucked on. But I don't think Mama anticipated that they'd be licked, sucked on, gnawed, chewed on, and bitten. But there was other damage, like the crisscross scars on my palms and wrist, but I usually wore gloves even when I fucked tricks. I'd be ass buck-naked, but I'd cover up the scars. The tricks just thought I was being freaky.
What I mean by mess was how I felt on the inside. I felt like people could see how fucked-up I was, that they could look me in my eyes and instantly know about all the alcohol I had consumed, all the ecstasy I had popped, and all the niggas I had fucked.
Once I left my visit, Lanette, the nurse who me and my sister always spoke to in passing, stopped me. “Why do you always look so down, Cashmere?”
I shook my head. See, I had no problem with her. In fact, I liked seeing her smiley face. I wish I had a reason to smile back, but I always gave her a nod. Still, I couldn't disclose all the shit I had been through and was still going through.
She grabbed me by one of my hands in a firm grip that made me want to follow her and said, “Come with me.” She held my hand all the way to the chapel, which was empty when we got there. And she didn't let it go, even after she sat down.
To tell the truth, I didn't mind her hands being on me. They were rough, yes, but oh so warm, they gave me comfort. I remembered I didn't have on my gloves, so I tried to snatch them back, but she wouldn't let me.
“I remember when my kids were your age. I was never able to be home with them much, working all these hours, but they understood.” She tightened her hold on my hands.
I nodded a bottomless nod. I shifted my body, hoping that, as I did, my hands would slip from hers. They didn't. She didn't see my scars, I guess, or maybe she did, but didn't acknowledge them.
“Tell me something, CashmereâHave you ever had a conversation with God?”
I shook my head and twisted my lips to one side.
“Do you believe in Him?”
“I used to.”
“Why don't you anymore?”
“I been in too much pain to believe in a God.”
“Belief gotta stick around, even through the fire. It's just a test, anyhow. This is not going to be the way it's always going to be, honey. It's a hump in the road, not an opportunity to turn in the towel, 'cause it's your life we talking about. And, baby, you are far too young to be carrying all that weight on these little shoulders.”
How she know what I was carrying? Was it that apparent? Obviously.
As she searched my eyes, I shifted mine to the ground.
Quietly she asked, “Well, Cashmere, can I please pray for you?”
I nodded slowly. “Go ahead.” I bowed my head and closed my eyes.
She did the same, grasping my hand tighter again.
“Father God, I ask that You move Cashmere through this, Lord. Lord, Cashmere is a beautiful girl, Lord, with a broken spirit, Lord. Father God, Cashmere is out of faith. Lord, I ask that You her see just how important her life is to this earth. Lord, help her to understand that she is needed, Lord, that she is loved. Lord, help her to believe in You, Lord, to see that, through You, all is healed, aches can go away, broken bones can be fixed, Lord, a split heart can be put back together, Lord, depression wiped out, Lord. Cashmere has pain in her heart, Lord. She's been hurt, Lord. Help her find joy again, Lord, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Crazy as it sounds, I did feel better. I left the home feeling so much better that I couldn't wait to go back.
Eagerly I showered the next Sunday, put on something pretty to wear, and dashed into the living room. I was sure that if Lanette prayed for Desiree, it would make her feel good about living again too. I asked breathlessly, “Desiree, you ready?”
She was laying across the couch, looking half-dead. “I'll pass.”
“What?”
She rolled her red-looking eyes at me and repeated herself, “I said I'm not going.”
I didn't want to argue with her, so I took a deep breath and smiled at her.
She smirked.
“Desiree, we gotta go, so we don't break tradition. We been doing this for almost two years, you knowâ”
“I know what? Huh?” She held a hand out to me as if I had something to hand her.
I rubbed my eyed wearily. She was draining me.
“He can't see me. He can't do shit, Cashmere. Really, if you think about it, we wasting perfectly good money.”
“Desiree, how can youâ”
“Don't call me that shit!” She threw a cup at me, and it fell at my feet.
I scooped it up and sat it on the table calmly. I couldn't understand why she was tripping, or what had made her so insensitive when it came to Daddy.
Black stepped in the room. His voice silenced and confused me. “Y'all both need to sit tonight out, Cashmere.”
“What?”
He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off.
“Cashmere, money is low. I need you both on the track tonight.”
“Fine wit' me,” Desiree said.
“I'm notâNo, we not!”
Black studied my face, his jaw twitching. “You saying no to me, Cashmere?”
“Yes! I do whatever you ask me to do, Black, but this is something I cannot do. I won't. So beat my ass, fuck me, throw me out, whatever, but you can't stop us from seeing our Daddy!” My eyes were on his, and I saw my reflection staring back at me. I was shaking and walking around in circles, and as I spoke loudly, my voice was cracking too.
The room was silent for a minute. our Desiree was frozen on the couch, waiting for what was about to happen next. Maybe Black would knock my head off my body or throw me off a cliff.
“You can't stop us from seeing Daddy,” I repeated.
Black studied me, a hand resting under his chin.
“Desiree, get your ass up and get dressed,” I told her.
“When Black tells me to.”
“Desiree, go on and wash your ass. You got ten minutes.” Desiree gave Black a shocked look. I didn't miss it. Two minutes later, she went in her bedroom.
Chapter 22
Desiree was acting weird again. Pacing in Daddy's room, she kept glancing at the clock and leaving the room and coming right back. The more time went by, the more she tripped.
I should start calling her ass 51/50.
“Fuck!” She turned her eyes to me and snapped, “Let's go.”
I ignored her.
“Come on.”
I continued rubbing lotion on Daddy's legs.
“Fuck it then. I'm leaving.”
Just as she stood, Lanette walked in the room and offered a smile. Desiree muttered, “Shit.” My eyes narrowed when she gave Desiree a white envelope. She was holding something in her hand also. “The rest of the staff and I also made a scrapbook for you ladies to take.”
My eyes passed over the blue photo album that had Daddy's name on it. “What's this for?”
Lanette's smile slid off her face and was replaced with confusion, the same look that my face wore. She turned to Desiree. “You didn't tell your sister?”
Desiree didn't speak.
“Tell me what?”
“Desiree, are you gonna tellâ”
“I ain't gotta tell her shit.”
“Man, what is going on?” A sinking feeling came back to me again. I closed my eyes and tried to control the shaking of my hands.
“Ladies, I don't mean to get in your business. But, Desiree, you should've ofâ”
“Look, I'm grown and I'm the next of kin, not her.” She pointed at me. “She ain't even seventeen yet, so I'm running this shit and I”âShe poked herself in the chestâ“I make the decisions for Desmond Pierce.”
Instantly I knew what she did. That's why she didn't want to come to the hospital today. I asked her quietly, “You authorized them to pull the plug on Daddy, didn't you?”
Her look confirmed my fear.
I ran to try to reverse this shit, but her yelling stopped me.
“It's too late to change it. It's going down, and you can't do nothing about it, 'cause I'm grown. I'm the oldest. And don't think you can run to Black and he gonna fix this shit to your fucking favor. He ain't!”
I spun around and got in her face. “Bitch, you ain't cutting shit. I don't get you. He is all we have left. And you wanna cut the cord on him? He did nothing but love you, Desireeâall of us! This is how you wanna repay Daddy? Man, you truly ain't shit.”
She shoved me. “And what the fuck makes you any better than me? Last time I checked, you was a ho.” She pulled down a finger like she was counting. “You do dope. So how in the hell can you say I ain't shit? And, to tell the truth, I wanted Daddy to die. That night. 'Cause I hated him. 'Cause he loved you more. It made no sense for me to do shit right, 'cause he loved you more than me.”
“No.”
“Shut up! He did. Everybody did. I hated him for the way he looked at me like I am nothing. Everybody loved you more than me, no matter what I did. Even Black. And all my plans to break you down failed 'cause you always find some fucking way to win.”
“Plans?”
Desiree smirked again. “I set all this shit upâfucking Caesar, our uncle, getting with Black. I wanted to see your downfall, Cash. I was sick of the world praising you like you was better than me 'cause you had a big ass, a prettier face. 'Cause you were smarter, funnier, could cook better, talk better, fuck better. I wanted you not to be shit. And I was willing not to be shit, just to achieve that. So I guess you can say I achieved my dream, 'cause you ain't shit but a dirty, ecstasy-hooked ho.”
That's when I snapped. Rage was all up in me as I went after her, trying to punch and kick her at the same time. I wanted to rip that miserable bitch apart. My fist went to her face.
Bloop. Bloop. Bloop.
I bust her bottom lip.
Bloop. Bloop. Bloop.
I bust her bottom lip.
She swung back, but the bitch was high. I ducked and drilled, weaved and drilled, fucking her face up some more.
Lanette yelled for us to stop, but I was far from being done. I socked her in her titty, making her come forward. Then I went for her face again. I leaned her face down and socked her in her neck.
She bent over coughing, and that's when Lanette grabbed me. “Cashmere, calm down.”
“Get off of me please,” I yelled, trying to yank away.
The diversion gave Desiree the opportunity to grab the bedpan from Daddy's neighbor, which she threw on me.
I sputtered as piss was all in my face, and the smell of shit and piss rose up to my nose. I wiped my face and saw the bitch run from the room. I pushed Lanette off me and went after Desiree's ass. “Bitch, I fucking hate you!”
I chased after her down the hall, passing nurses and doctors. As she speeded up, I increased my speed as well. When I was close on her heels, I swung and knocked her upside her head. The blow slowed her down, and she shook her head. I then cocked my left foot back as far as it could go and kicked her in her ass, pitching her forward.
All I thought that would happen was, she would fall and I would continue fucking her up. But she flew forward, her legs folded beneath her, and slammed her head on the hardwood floor. She shook for a minute, blood leaking from her head.
Then she was stiller than Daddy was.
Okay. Here I was trying to make a change, only to find myself caught up in the same shit. My sister was very much dead. And I was very much the killer. So all that shit the nurse said to me went straight out the window.
They were wheeling Desiree away in a bag, and I couldn't see her face or body, just the imprint of her body. Who could I be mad at? My mom? Auntie? God? Myself? Black? He sure was nowhere to be seen, now that I was caught up in this shit.
I was facing a murder charge. I was in too much shock to cry, too shook to be scared, as handcuffs chafed my skin and I stared blankly out the window of the squad car.
The car sped off. Where were they taking me? A maximum-security prison? The electric chair?
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