Poetic Misery Here With Me
Yea I love her, but love from her has always been scarce, but it’s hard to run away because it’s forever embedded in my heart, but it’s so deep that everyday it seems to rip me apart piece by piece, a piece of my soul so the gold fades away…rusts…burns, but still, something there is cold- the world just pauses and a voice says behold- God touched her forehead and said the she will be mines, so Satan go back to the pits of hell and flee her mind. In the womb I made her shine. Your kinds are wicked- I gave her a ticket to a land of meaningful smiles and I said God what was her life like, ya’ know, as a child. She doesn’t smile now- why is she so saddened- tell me what happened. Why does she flee and chase those bags. Virtually acceptances and it took one look. Long ago I wrote a book and hid if from Satan it was mundanely about long suffrages of petty wars with patience. For years no one knew that- the glee- she mastered faking it. Relations filled with venom gladly she would take it- leaving her and I alone to rot slowly naked. To search for the lost with notes of sullen, poetry, it’s miserable. I’m fearing this potions of ever lasting life and the bright sunshine everyday awaking me until she ruined the light with dimmed days and longer nights- she seemed to find illumination through a cracked pipe and she would let faceless men make the sweetest love to her with the sharpest butcher knife. Woman, my insides- I gave them to you daily when yours would fall I would get on my knees and it was God I would call. Fall and say God please save me. Save her Jesus I really need you at this moment while she’s out and about stoned from the juices of evil serpents. Can I be your servant…your vessels? How can the insides cry so much and so loudly but she walks with a smile while her back is arched proudly. Dear God while I’m writing do your eyes ever tire- I’m fighting for a seat in your lap but my ankles are chained while my mouth is wired. Eyes blurred of sight losing its spiritual insight and my legs ache so bad because I’m so tired of running. I hope that end time isn’t coming. Will her feet be able to touch pearly floors? Will her hands be able to feel the embrace of latch to that golden door and walk up those stairs, pain being no more? God he took her soul ripping out every moment of breath- ignorance of knowing what it meant to live in death. So now I repressed those memories and wait patiently for next. Praying for brooding mercy without putting my hands around his neck-
Prologue
“Chris I don’t think I can do this anymore.”
“Why?”
“I’m tired. My body tired. My spirit tired. I’m tired Chris.”
“Bitch. I made you. I can’t believe you even had the audacity to…”
That’s when the side of his inconsiderate person reached out of the telephone receiver to slap me multiple times. The sting covered my face. Months prior to the ride or die relationship Chris and I had formed he was different. I was his baby and he, this gentle, harmless encourager who wanted me to excel in life. I didn’t have any dreams so he tricked me into hanging onto his star. Visions of this poor girl hailing from an undernourished household turned millionaire excited me. Money, jewels, cars, the whole nine. When I met Chris my world suddenly transformed into a runway. Viewers were not of importance because they were simply enviers or admirers. I could feel the love breathing on my neck, but like the sequel to a corny horror flick is how it abruptly ends. Love doesn’t feel like anything in particular and I look up from the journey and I’m not a millionaire. I’m poor. Reality hurt me more than Chris’s spiteful words, coming at me like pissed darts.
Chris finished as I attentively listened like I had done in former disputes as if it were my all my fault. I didn’t ask for this shit. I said anything to keep him from making a trip to personally fuck me up. He knew a lot of people. He was well liked and I knew they would have no problem with taking me out for his punk ass. Fearless used to be my middle name, when I met Chris, it was shortened to just Fear. Hell everything was shortened. Before I met him, I was thick, and healthy with big titties. Now I was thinner, assless with tiny nubs, small enough for me to grasp with one hand. The ball I had formed my body into rocked back and forth as these things swindled in and out of my mind.
I tried over and over again to figure out how I had gotten myself so well acquainted with the “night life”, as Chris liked to put it. Never in a million years had I anticipated my self to be in the predicament I was in. I knew I wasn’t dumb enough to get caught up with him. I was too hip for that shit. I was from the projects. I ran across this shit everyday. Who would have known that he would be the real deal? Some guys thought it was cool to go around joking about pimping and all of that shit. Old schools wore gator boots and perms so fresh that your grandmother’s hot comb would envy it.
Welcoming myself into a distorted generation had me high as a kite. It was exciting to see, and I mean really see how drastically things had really changed. For one instead of the bastards rolling around in Cadillac’s and shit they lounged around the unsuspected. They came off as being nonartificials. There were no fly lines to be dropped into my ear, although it was everything a girl needed to hear. They unfolded secretes, that slipped from your lips to pull you in and onto the streets. A real pimp is aware of his own being. He is aware that he is nothing but a whore himself who happened to reverse the game to make certifiable gains.
What made me stand out from the miniature stable was my ability to think on my own. Leadership had been passed on to me from my step-father, Mr. Al. He was proud of me, and I knew if he and Mama became aware of what I was doing, I would be burying them the next day, side by side. The only reason I allowed my self to get tugged alone in the first place was because I got tired of thinking for myself. I wanted someone else to do it for me. I needed to feel loved. It was almost as if he had the power to know what I felt, and how I felt it, but was unable to express it. Chris would enter my life to become my thinker, Daddy, teacher, friend, Mama, doctor, psychologist, boyfriend, confidant, cousin, sister…Well you get the point. He was basically everything I needed to make it emotionally in life. Before Chris came trotting into my picture, I had lost a best friend, and I needed her more than my own life.
Chapter 1
“Poetic Misery…here with me…” We were nothing but hopeless sonnets ourselves. She was gone and there were no signs left of her coming back. That’s how it was though. Lyric Kelly left a story behind. We never saw that side of her. The poetically blissful Lyric. We saw the lamenting Lyric, lamenting to smile just once in her small world of distraught. Now she finally lay there, arms crossed peacefully and she was smiling. I didn’t have to worry about her losing it this time. I thought that it would be the best I could do, show up at my girl’s funeral and be the loudest one sobbing like we said it would be if God decided that it would come time for permanent separation. The time was two weeks ago. I mean, it pained me more than anything because I never had a chance to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry Lyric, or goodbye. I’m sorry for bringing you to this if I’m at fault, which I felt I was. I could have talked her out of leaving if only she would have called. If only. We all were sitting down like crack zombies thinking about what we could have done or should have done, but it was too late. No one could do nothing now, but bring the murderer to justice.
The pastor that preached as if he had known her. It bothered me. In fact there were many people at the funeral that talked that way. I say they only wanted to get up and hear themselves talk, especially her Aunt Wanda. The only reason she came was to show off. She didn’t give a damn about her. They didn’t even know Lyric. People got up and talked about how much she had brought into their life. How angelic she had been, and how happy she once was. They proclaimed her beauty. Did they know she was never happy? Of course they didn’t. They didn’t know shit. I had a few words of my own, but I kept them all in my head.
I sat in a trance on the forth pew between Buttah and Fran. Fran held on to my hand the whole time. We believed she was still in a state of shock. Her boss had allowed her time away from flipping burgers because at work she was a mess. She was supposed to go right off to college after she graduated, but her mother, Ms. Sany, said that she wasn’t ready. I hated that bitch too. After all it was Fran who discovered the body lying on the sidewalk to begin with after leaving her job. My mama said that poor Fran would be traumatized for the rest of her life.
And you know I had a billion questions. It just wasn’t the time for them to come out. And I don’t think they ever would. I wanted to say, “Fran, did she have that same smile like on the day she smiled when Buttah and I gave her the first Christmas gift she had ever received or threw her first birthday party?” Did the corners of her mouth fold up into something horrific like when her father killed himself?” I would never know. She would not have known neither because the two weren’t friends. Although Fran claimed that she had already spoken to her, to squash the incident before she died. Buttah vouched for it with a head nod, but I was still unsure. Buttah just looked down at the floor expressionlessly now. She hadn’t spoken since the news was brought her way. We were all trying to make sense of the situation, but it didn’t make any.
Ms. Tonie took it the hardest. She couldn’t understand why. When she had been informed of the death when she was in New York City, getting her life together. I hadn’t a clue of what to believe. It was all hear-say. It was hard to see the sympathy Tonie had because her whole body was literally covered up in black. Black as coal like her ways had been towards Lyric. She even wore a black veil. That was Tonie for you. I thought it was all for cabaret until she got up, interrupting the pastor’s words and walked towards the casket. I knew by her steps that it wasn’t show.
She opened her mouth. And oh the speech she gave about her baby girl. She spoke as if she had been sitting at the bottom of Heaven stairs as Lyric made her way on up step by step into the Golden Gates, contented that the battle had finally ended. No one seemed to be inside of the church but those two. It was soundless in the chapel. What she gave us was seven-teen year’s worth of sorrow and regrets to her blood, and we felt each drop of it. What I didn’t feel was when she sloppily mentioned how Lyric had run away from home for the first time. I never thought it was the home she ran from. It was Tonie. Maybe it was just me, but Tonie was still in denial of all she had done. I think a man who was dressed like a woman secretly agreed with me, the way he looked at Tonie made me wonder if the she/he knew who my friend was. She never mentioned him, or her, or well… nor had I ever seen him. No one seemed to notice the drag queen but me, and I couldn’t help but to wonder what Lyric had gotten her self into out on the streets.
We were all aware that Lyric Kelli didn’t live a squeaky clean life. No one expected her to. It wasn’t her fault. None of us asked to be spat out into Cheyenne, the land of the wicked, the unsociable, and the dungeon of the have-nots to have to endure the shit we dealt with daily. In reality it wasn’t the endurance of anything. It was embedded and branded life for all of us because we were so used to it. We were doomed and damned all ready to die so everything was momentarily beautiful.
We didn’t think that all these other great things were hidden somewhere outside of the world, and it looked and smelled far better than what we got out of the box. Which was death, young deaths, overlooked murders that welcomed more to come, wiping out our generation, the poverty, prostitution, the drugs, the fights… All she wanted to do was get away from it all. We heard it in a piece of her poetry. I was her best friend, but she had left me out in the dark. She left me out in the pitch blackness to rot all alone after all we had gone through, in the middle of the night only to get death in exchange.
There were so many rumors flying around of what had happened, although her murder still remained a mystery. Some said that she tricked her way to the top, and tried to get a john for his wallet, so he shot her instead of coming home to the wife he had. Some say she went up to New York and modeled to make some cash on the side, and got turned out by drugs. I couldn’t see why not. Of course not the drug scenario, but modeling… my girl was a walking seraph. From every angle of her body, she had it going on, but I don’t think she ever knew so. She was gorgeous. I could see her skinny ass sashaying down a run-way in Tokyo right now. It was rumored that she danced at a night club, once called Rico’s and a regular stalked her. It was rumored that she worked with Columbians that her father had known and moved weight and owed them a lot of money.
No one knew. There were no suspects. We were left with assumptions of the logical possible. The only thing we knew was that she and a man got into an argument. But the man was innocent. When gunshots sounded he fled leaving us behind to suffer. We were all so inconsiderate of our dear Lyric, that we didn’t take the time out to know. I knew on the day that she came back to the hood swathed in Gucci and shit that things had changed. A lot of things. She fed me a bullshit story of how she hooked up with some rich white man. She was smart enough to wear shades on that day because she knew that I knew her eyes told on her when she attempted to lie. Lyric was a terrible liar. I must admit I hated her at that very hour. She was better than me. And she had only come back to Cheyenne to rub it in my face. I wanted to be in her shoes at the moment. I wanted to get away too. She didn’t even ask me to go. But in reality, Lyric had only come back to pay her dues to my heart. It was still the same- you have. I have. I felt like she had known her time on earth was short.
It hurt like daily contractions would. That was waking up every morning fully aware that I would have to live the rest of my life friendless because I didn’t want any other friends. Lyric was different. She wanted peace as much as she wanted wings, she never wanted death. Death came to her in the dungeon. I wondered why she had come back to begin with. Was it to talk to me? Was she moving back? All the detectives knew was that she had booked in a few hotels under an alias around the area. There were so many men coming in and out, according to standbys, so the policemen had nil to work with. The guy that had been in the car to witness the scene knew nothing. All he played in the part was the random guy who got to argue with her last. The suspect was dressed in all black so that even the sex was unknown. We had nothing to work with.
When they searched her tiny body under autopsy, in addition to the gruesome bruises and scars on her back and shoulder blade, there were five hundred dollars stuck up in her pussy along with semen. A search for questioning would have been impossible. So it all boiled down to one thing in the investigators eyes. They were tired of us coming up dead in the slums and having to do the dirty work. So the snakes’ story went something like this- Prostitute shot to death in Cheyenne Projects. It was the headline that alarmed Tonie Kelli miles away that her daughter was dead.
“As most of you know, I’m Lyric’s mother. Most of you also know that I wasn’t a good mother.” Tonie stopped and rubbed the running mascara from underneath her eyes. Then she paused, and turned to the casket like a drunk would turn around to swing at an imaginary predator. “Lyric if you can hear me baby. I’m sorry- I’m sorry.” Her body shook and the cry that came from the former crack addict’s lips was one that I had never heard of before. She began to beat on the casket. “Wake up Lyric! Wake up! Lyric!” Fran grabbed my hand taking in the scene. Cookie, my mother got up to help her, but there was no hope. The saddest thing a parent could do was bury a child. It was something that no parent wanted to go through. I guess you can say it was her only daughter left, Cece the youngest daughter was in the state’s hands and it would be a while before Tonie would be eligible to get custody of her. Social workers didn’t think Tonie was mentally prepared for visitations. My mother leaned over us as soon as she sat down, having to snap us out of being engrossed with Tonie’s madness.
“Pssssst. Buttah. Dionne. Let’s go.” Mama couldn’t bear any of it. I knew she wouldn’t be able to. That was my mama. Lyric had been like one of the daughters she never had. We stood up and snuck out of the chapel, still able to hear Tonie carry on as we walked back to the projects. No one was in the mood for speaking, so the birds spoke for us with their sweet melody as we ambled. If I could have helped it I would have never spoken again either. Everyone was still shocked. Lyric would not have wanted it to have been that way, us being all quiet and mourning. She liked to see people happy. So I asked my mama, “Do you think she went to Heaven?”
“Yes baby, of course she did. That’s why I tell you young girls. That life is short. Poor child was only seventeen. Some punk had to…” What my mother had wasn’t grief. Instead it was anger. She was angry because she knew that the dead kid would never receive the justice she deserved. We went back to being silent, Buttah and I both aware that Cookie would be mum regardless of if we spoke or not. In this case it would be me speaking with my self after Mama answered. Buttah was deep in thought, silent as she had been for the last past days. Mama told me that she had been the same way after her mother died of a massive heart-attack. Only she didn’t speak for a whole month. The silence was really bugging me, so I couldn’t wait to get back to the projects.
When we got back home, my mother showered and spent time in her bedroom reading the bible. Buttah and I sat on my bed gazing at the blank television screen remembering once upon a time when there were three of us, just as I did. Someone knocked on our door. We hadn’t been expecting company. Mr. Al was out playing pool and Chantelle, my sister had gone over a friend’s for the weekend. We looked at each other. “Well I know you ain’t gettin’ it,” I mumbled. I rolled out of my bed and opened the door without questioning who it was and the tear-streaked woman faced me with a bible clutched to her side. She was all cried out. And as beautiful as she was, she looked horrible. She had a ragged backpack hanging off her shoulder. Her eyes were tired and she looked drunk. The woman wiped the sweat from her brow with a hanky and blinked a few times.
“Hi,” she managed to smile. The first genuine smile she had ever flaunted. In fact it was the first time Lyric’s mother and I had ever been so close. I hated her because Lyric hated her, now the incident would bring other alternatives to the table. “Um…mind if I come in. Good news,” she said throwing her hands up. Before I allowed her in, I heard my mother’s loud mouth in the back room.
“Damn! I can’t even get in da presence! Tell those kids she ain’t coming back until tomorrow, and bring me a beer!”
“Mama, it’s Ms. Tonie.” Her bed springs squeaked and I could hear her coming my way.
Tonie and Mama looked at each long hard as if they were trying to figure each other out when Mama go to the door. I leaned on the hinges. She hadn’t seen her since she had claimed to be clean. “Come on in honey. Have a seat.” Mama looked at the ragged bag warily as she slowly sat down on the tattered sofa. She lay back, relaxing her aching back on the cushion, and rubbed her big belly. It was my mother’s way of collecting her thoughts. I could read on her face that they were heavy. She ordered a second time, “Bring me and Tonie a beer oh and lock that door. You didn’t even close it.” My mother’s concerned attention drew back to Tonie who was sort of just sitting there dazed, rocking back and forth when I disappeared off to the kitchen. I moved as slowly as I could in hopes of seeing why she had come to our home uninvited.
I mean don’t get me wrong, my mom and Lyric’s mom went way back. Tonie used to always come over. In fact it was how we met. Lyric’s family came all the way from New York City. Once they got to Texas, they came to Cheyenne. Tonie happened to know my Aunt Pookie. She was my mother’s oldest sister and couldn’t seem to get right in the head, so she would be in and out with us or jail somewhere. Tonie came over looking for her, her and Sweets after midnight.
The New Yorkers had only been in Cheyenne for a few weeks. You always knew the new comers when they entered. My mother being the sweet, Christian trying woman she was, already knew why they had come and what they were looking for. At forty, she was still hip; she knew the ropes of the game. And she didn’t deal too well with what Tonie had in mind after the hour. My mother calmly told Sweets and Tonie that she had put Aunt Pookie out on her ass a long time ago and they could find her in the streets and slammed the door in their faces.
I’ll never forget because it rained that night. Hard. Our electricity even flickered off and on. “That lady need to be takin care of them children. I know she got at least two,” I heard her complain to Mr. Al before getting into bed with him. They talked about the new family while I wondered about the woman’s daughter. I knew she was about my age. After I heard the door slam, and then trots through wet grass and earth, from my bottom bunk I rolled over. Through a tiny jail window, I watched the lady grasp Sweet’s arm and go off into the rain. She was still pretty to me. She was tall and slender, with hair past her back. The rain had made it wave up. She reminded me of an Egyptian Queen. On the day she enrolled Lyric into school she was pretty to me, and she still was, but there was a glisten she once had that now laid along in the casket with Lyric. She looked five years older than what she looked before she left Cheyenne, which hadn’t been that long ago. Everyone could see that it was missing. Mama yelled at me from the kitchen, “Dionne!”
“I’m comin’ Mama!” I briskly grabbed the bottles, making them cling together aware that they were the last two and wondered if my mother had known so too. I shook Toni’s bottle like I was shaking the life out of it.
When I sat the alcohol down on the table, my mother’s eyes followed me coldly. I knew they meant that I needed to move my nosey ass around out of grown folk business before one of the bottles went across my face. Tonie’s eyes were glued on the carpet as Mama rubbed her fat legs. She strangely rejected my mother’s hospitality by pushing the bottle to the side, and pulled out something, I’m supposing was stronger than what my mother had. Mama overlooked it and proceeded to open hers. I knew the real talk wouldn’t begin until I was out of the adults’ sight.
I stopped in the hallway sneakily to listen. I could already hear Buttah breathing deeply while she lay across my bed asleep. I only hoped it would not interfere with what I was about to hear. I stooped down until I was in the position that a canine would be. I peeked my head around the corner to get a view of the women. Now Tonie was facing my mother. The look she had on her face was solemn as a cat stuck on top of the building during a blizzard, afraid, but aware that he had at least eight more lives to give up. My mother’s face looked like she had just made a discovery after Tonie clearly said after swallowing back whatever it was that was trying to hold her words back, “Cookie, I didn’t come here to bring you bad news.” She took a swig and made a nasty face.
Those words in Tonie Kelli’s face didn’t sit right to me. It was news alright and I’m pretty sure it would be to the woman she conversed with over a Bud Ice too. Tonie was still a snake. She had been before and still was. Lyric had told me all the wicked things she had done to her. I couldn’t bear to hear some of the things she would tell me. Just to make it feel a little better we made misery into jokes. It’s hilarious but I still have this memory of Lyric and me going to see some voodoo lady so we could make Tonie disappear. The bitch charged us four hundred for all sorts of potions and shit. We didn’t have the funds of course, so I guess you can say that we put it in God’s hands after that. I never could listen to all of what she would have to tell me. It hurt. I felt it too. What she felt from the pain that she went through. I felt it too. Now this witch sat in our living room with good news after my best friend was laying in a box.
“You know Cookie…” Tonie removed the dark shades from her eyes and looked directly into a mutual friend’s questioning eyes. “You have always been good to me. I know Lyric loved you, and I know she loved Dionne and everybody.”
“I know Tonie. We loved our Lyric too. Everybody loved her because she was such a sweet girl. And she’s still, our Lyric. I hope the sonofabitch rots in hell for...”
Surprisingly, Tonie snapped, “Look, I gots somewhere to be. I don’t know what’s in this envelop but it’s for your child. They found it under a mattress in a room she had been living in.” She put her shades on and picked the bottle up. “If you really love her, more than that nigga you lay up with, more than you love having the ability to think, more than you love the pussy she came from then… you’d watch her closely.” She popped off the cap and took a long sip of the Bud Ice that she hadn’t touched since my mother had offered her one before it could get a chance to explode and sat it back down on the table. She kept her eyes glued to my mother as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Mama’s face seemed to be more of disgust than anything after Tonie walked away. My mother wasn’t easily affected by people’s action. She always wanted to believe that there were more good people in the world than bad. So her attention directed to the envelope.
The envelope looked like it had gone through a lot, but it was still sealed tightly. Nosily my mother examined it thoroughly and was pissed when she realized there would be no way she would be able to open it without me knowing. I crawled back to my room smoothly. Before I could come to my feet she was calling my name, and I’m sure everybody in the projects could hear her. I came from around the corner, causally and stretched.
She asked, “Where Buttah?”
“She sleep.” I couldn’t help but to look down at the mystery envelop in her hand.
Like a mother would when they had so many questions or fears of their children doing or being this or that once they were dead and gone, she looked at me long and hard and said, “This is for you.” I faked a surprised expression and took it as it was a new born gem. “She left that bag behind too. I don’t know if it-”
“That’s Lyric’s bag. We used to always try to make her get rid of that thing.”
I looked at my mother questionably and she threw her hands up dumbfounded. “Don’t ask. You know how Tonie is. She never got time to talk. Hell she ain’t even have time for those chil’ren of hers. Where they at now. She ain’t even have the audacity to tell me who or what or anything. Just…just stormed out. Poor woman.” I pressed my fingers down on the envelope to feel its thickness and headed off to Chantelle’s room to have some privacy in peace with my friend, along with the bag. Maybe I would give it to my children if I ever decided to have any.
Damn D,
Long time no hear. Man I miss the projects as bad as shit. I never thought I would. I miss the smell of fresh piss and ganja. Hhahahahaha. Nah I’m just kidding. How you been? How Cookie? I miss ya’ll man. I’m waiting on my next trick to come through. I’m on Leonard Ave. You know where all them raggedy ass motels at and shit. Man, I know it’s been a while. A lot has changed in this little time. D I never thought that I could let my life get to this. Me and my new boyfriend got into a fight last night. I mean every since we got back together it’s been arguing. He thought I stole some dope from him and busted me in the mouth. He didn’t stop there. He kept hitting and hitting me and I left. I ran. Shit that was my second time running away. Girl, I have to tell you the first time in person. I miss my baby. I’m writing this like you really gone get it. Hahaha. I wish you could. Who knows? If there’s a God, there’s a way. I miss you. I remember when we used to write letters back in school. I be so tired now days girl. Between hoeing and dancing at the club. My body feel old. Shit I feel old. I feel like I’ve done done it all and ain’t nothing left. My destiny is fucked D. I just have a crazy feeling this is it for me. I had every thing in the world before. Now I don’t even have a chance. I can’t find my Rico. I can’t even find myself. Even though we had that falling out behind that crazy day—you know what. I still miss you. I still think about your big mouth ass a lot. Well, this mutha fucka at the door. I have people to see and some money to make. Another nightmare. Another dollar. Hahhahahahaa. If it’s God’s will, you will receive this somehow. In fact, I’ll give this to Zhene’ you’ll meet him. I told her all about you, so hopefully she will be real and do what I asked. Maybe I’m stoned while I’m doing this, but I got a lil somein’ somein’ for you-it’s in the third envelope. I only ask that you do me two favors- show our sisters that it’s better shit in the world and go to school. I know when I was sitting in this hotel looking out the window, I thought I could have seen you getting off the bus, but it was just my imagination.
After wiping my tears of an unknown happiness or sadness, I opened the third envelope. When I opened it, five hundred dollar bills came out. The note said. “Yea- loser you don’t have any reasons not to go. This is clothes money or.” She never finished the rest.
FALL I
Chapter 2
If Lyric didn’t know anything she knew I was two things: broke and dumb. Those two things automatically excluded me from going to college. I still had a year and a semester left to graduate high school. My grades were just as shitty as my reputation. On the day I was accepted into Sam Houston State University was the day I knew that there was a God. It was easy. I owed Lyric and I knew I had to pay her back by going to college. I never told anyone about the money she left me, but I showed my mother the letter and she was touched, so she agreed to help me.
One thing I refused to do was get a job at some fast food joint. Fran was going to Sam too, and she had saved up enough money for things she would need. Financial aid paid for my schooling, along with two Pell grants. My book money would have to come out of pocket. I did every thing it took to keep my grades up in high school. I finally had a focus. I knew if I could keep my grades up, I would be automatically accepted to any school in the state of Texas. Everything seemed to fall in place, so I knew it was destined.
Early one Saturday morning, Mr. Al and Mama loaded up the Pacer and we headed south, to Houston. They were proud of me. With so little, I had everything going for myself. I had to pinch myself over and over again as a reminder that I, Dionne Walker was going to college, the same Dionne that everyone expected to drop out. I actually felt like we were a real family as we road down the dark roads. We laughed and joked and my mother talked about how just yesterday I was a little girl. I thought about how Lyric and I were little girls. I wondered if she was still alive, would she be squeezed in the Pacer with us. Lyric wanted to go to school to be a writer. I told Mama I should become one in the memory of Lyric, but I wasn’t into that shit. In fact I didn’t know what I was interesting in. My major was undecided.
Once they were gone after kissing me a million times, I had a room to myself. Luckily I hadn’t been assigned a room mate just yet. Incoming freshman were required to live on campus, so I was stuck in a crummy dorm room, half the size of the bedroom I had back at home under the mild surveillance of our R.A. AkA dorm mother only because I was fresh out of high school. It was dull and very prison like. I already felt homesick. To keep my mind off of home, I looked out the window a lot.
Outside of my window there was this big oak tree and benches. The boys’ dormitory was right across the street. I could see each little window. It was late, but people were still out. Smoking, enjoying the view of the stars, swooning, involved in heated debates on the benches that sat right outside of the dormitories, chatting on their cell phones happily... College was like a horrible imitation of Paradise. I had my own room, well at least for the time being. There were no crack heads walking around, or loud arguing. The loudest noise I heard was laughter. I felt at peace with myself for once. Over and over again, I would say, “Damn…I’m in college.”
I wasn’t alone for long. I met Jade, my roomy, three days after I moved in. She was from the north side of Houston. It was her second year at Sam. She was a psychology major. Jade seemed okay. I rarely saw her, so things worked out fine for a while. My classes had gone well the first week. I made an effort to sit in the front row during all lectures. The back row would send me into all kinds of daydreams. I learned the true meaning of being a college student and I felt my hard work paying off when I slept for long hours instead of studying. My brain was just too exhausted.
I didn’t expect to be seeing Jade. She made it noticeable that she had arrived when she stumbled in after midnight. She didn’t acknowledge my presence or any of my things that had been laying around because I could hear her stepping on them. I heard the sound of keys drop. Jade and I had met for two seconds and we both went afterwards. That was on the day I met her. I went to sleep and she went out. She had been out a lot. She was a beautiful girl, well at least I thought so, but most of the time, it was blur, so I wasn’t sure if it was a beautiful illusion of what I wanted to see or the real deal..
Blurred as the way I probably looked to her when I popped up out of my slumber, wiping saliva from the corner of my mouth. She looked at me and laughed, nearly tripping over a flip flop. “Heyyyyy you.” I could smell whisky on her breath. It smelled like the stuff Mr. Al drank when his friends stopped by for a game of spades. I just laid back down. I was in no mood to deal with drunk asses. After she plopped down on her bed, I saw it coming before it came. “Blahhh, Blah, Blahhh.” She mumbled something and continued. I was too late.
“Ewwwwwwww!” It reminded me of myself the first time I tried to down a bottle of Mama’s Crown Royal. I instantaneously got up, careful not to step in the shit, and flicked the light on. I yawned and looked at the time. “Oh damn girl.” I had an eight clock class which meant, I had less than three hours to go, by the looks of the food massacre I knew I would probably be up for the remainder of the night. True, it was Jade’s responsibly but she was a mess. I didn’t think she would even remember any of the horrific events that would keep me up. But the smell was a whole other story. It was awful. I sprayed the room down with so much Lysol that I became dizzy. After every thing was spotless, and I was dog tired I resumed my rest.
When I woke up to the sounds of DJ Sticky Stan warning that it would be hot enough to fry an egg on the ground, I yawned and turned back over. Shit, didn’t I just lay down?
Jade’s bed was decently made and she was gone. Out of all the room mates in the world, I had to have a wino as mines. We had suitemates, so the bathroom was hell in the mornings. Imagine four bitches all with eight o’ clock classes. Well it wasn’t that crucial, but it damn sure was close enough to it. I was smart enough to wake up thirty minutes earlier to get a head start.
When I hopped out of the shower, I threw on a pair of jeans and a plain red T-shirt. I grabbed the materials I would need for my classes and headed out the door, prepared to take on the day. It felt good waking up. I knew each morning when I got up and got ready for class, Lyric smiled. But the smile I gave Neil Winters was as phony as her nails were. We had met at orientation. She could never be a 5-57 girl, the name Buttah, Lyric and I had given our clique. Neil was far too average. The only thing on her that wasn’t average was the big mouth she had. She was fat and overly friendly. I was always leery of those kinds. They didn’t last too long in the projects. I smelled weakling on her breath. You always kept snakes close enough to be their puppet masters. You never knew if they would be handy later on down the road.
“Hey girl.”
“What’s good Neil?”
Giving me a half hug she replied nothing. “Where you going?”
“Psychology,” I said. “One- o-one.”
“Oh.” I hastened my pace in hopes that Neil would get the message to get the fuck out of my face. Not only did she like to stay in my refrigerator she liked to stay in my business. And I be damned if birds of a feather didn’t flock together. There were three of them- Candy, Neil, and Bridgette. Even though I could have cared less about either of them, I had a better liking for Neil. I had long ago strayed away from the female species. There weren’t any real ones left. The only real one was dead. Therefore, Dionne kept it moving with a polite hello and goodbye.
“I didn’t see you at the party. You know it’s another one tonight, right?”
“Nope. I didn’t.” I looked down at my watch. “Ooooh let me hurry up. Gotta get my seat.” I sped up without saying anything else satisfied with my acting skills. In fact, that’s where I really was headed to, theater. Fran and I had that class together. If I could hurry, I could catch her before class. Just my luck, Jade happened to be coming inside the building, the same time I was leaving out.
She looked beautiful as always. The girl looked like she was mixed with all kinds of nationalities, but she swore up and down that she was black. Hell she had told me the night before when she was skunk drunk, ‘blacker the berry the sweeter the juice. Just like me right Dionne.’ Neil had told me that Jade was adopted, but I didn’t believe her. Jade was stylish as usual with no books, bag, or any indications showing that she had gone to class for the day. Her hair was free and curly, sparkling in the sun’s ray. She sneered, when Neil’s fat ass came through the door, along with Candy, and looked at me and smiled. I laughed at the whole scene in my head. “Hey girl. Like that shirt,” she said. Then she went inside.
Perhaps her way of apologizing to me would come later on that night when she invited me to hang out with some of her friends before the party. They had been by the room a couple of times, and seemed okay. There was Teezy, DeeDee, and Koko. Fran didn’t like either of them for some reason, and for some reason, I think the feeling was neutral. We had bible study that we attended together every Wednesday on campus, Fran and I, and now Jade was inviting me to hang out. Before we left Cheyenne, Mama had got us involved in a Christian organization to keep us sanctified and focused on a higher being, and wanted us to continue the spiritual journey throughout college as well. It really did bring me closer to God. I ain’t gone even lie. I felt it. And it made me thirst for more. Who is this man that loves me so? I read my bible often. I tried to let God be my primary focus, but now I had a decision to make.
Chapter 3
Teezy was the motherly type. I had actually met her before I met Jade in the computer lab when I asked her to help me with my financial aide on the second day of move-in day. She didn’t bulge to assist me. It was her character that assured me that she was okay. And just okay. Some snakes are okay. Teezy was married and she and her marine’s man wanted babies but his soldiers preferred to only reenact during wartime.
When Jade and I got to her apartment she was cooking nachos. Teezy was a bit beyond average if you asked any brother. She was short with a nice ass, thick glossy lips, and perfect breasts. She was two shades darker than caramel and she always wore hazel contacts. The girl kept her self up though. Her nails and toes were always done. From what I had heard from Jade, she got them done once a month. When she wore jewelry, it complimented her attire. She dressed nice all the time rather or not if she was rocking sneakers or stilettos. She made sure we knew what she had too, but what we all knew was that her man broke off when his checks came through. Jade had told DeeDee and me once, “She didn’t look like that until after they married.”
DeeDee and Teezy had known each other since they were freshmen at Sam. Their personalities harmonized each other. DeeDee was very outgoing. Hailing from a small town in Texas that I had never heard of, she was a wild child. Her parents were average country folks, but they were strict on their only daughter. Her boyfriend, Vincent was the star basketball player, but she still slept around. I liked her because not only did she bring herself when she entered she brought amusement. And there’s nothing like being around people who make you unintentionally laugh all damn day long. DeeDee was a part time TA and was on her third year of college.
Finally there was Koko. She wanted to be in some sorority, but she did a good job at levying her friendships out. I called her the krunksta. She looked just like her name. Koko. The extra coaled beauty was from the island. She had a rare beauty because in reality, she wasn’t so attractive. But she had a personality that could make Mona Lisa show teeth and we would know that it was smile. Koko had a different hairstyle every week. One week she was Michael Jackson, Cleopatra, Lady of Rage, Beyonce, hell, Kobe Bryant. You name it. Koko was a fashion chameleon, and could pull off any look and make it hot.
I was the new fish on the lone and although I had encountered them all, I expected to be put through a little test. It’s a female thing. And the first one to do so was the one I least expected to, Teezy. I felt it coming though. She was a die-hard criminal justice major, so I paid close attention to her questions and how she asked them.
We were all sitting around now, eating nachos while a blunt rotated. DeeDee was so zoned out and I sat right next to her, so no one realized that I had intentionally taken myself out of the smoking circle. I passed it slyly to her and the party kept going without any one noticing anything. I didn’t want the girls thinking that I was party pooper. I mean what can I say? I wanted them to like me. I was a rookie compared to these amateurs. They were older. They all had cars. Apartments. Men. I had none. I was one jealous muthafucka, but in the projects you learned to control that shit. I was in particularly jealous of Teezy and she made it hard to control when she stared at me in the face.
“Where are you from?” Okay, some I’m thinking by this point, softball, softball. I can answer that.
“Dallas,” I said.
“My cousin stay in Dallas. He from Oak Cliff though,” Koko said. Then she got up and start rapping the recent song that had just came out representing the urban Dallas town proudly.
Teezy hadn’t lost her focus from getting whatever it was that she wanted from me. From this, I knew she was more mature than her peers. I was on to her. I was thinking that we would never become the best of friends because she was just too damn lame. DeeDee was rolling off a XO in and out. I knew the high was fading. Now that was my type of person to hang with. Of course I wouldn’t do the shit, but it sure as hell entertaining to watch. In reality we were all outsiders looking in, but Teezy wanted to come inside and look out too.
“What part are you from Dionne?”
“The Northeast side.” I didn’t lie. Cheyenne Projects sat smack down in the middle of Northeast Dallas. Neither of them would know though.
“Damn Jade, you babysitting the blunt,” Teezy said aware that I was aware and just as keen as she yenned to be. Jade had been talking on the phone non-stop. She had had a hot line going from the moment we walked out the dormitory.
Jade passed the reefer to Koko who was about to put in a C.D. “Oooh that’s my song. Cut that up.”
Koko rolled her eyes. Her accent always seemed to come out stronger when she was agged or upset, “Damn you say that with every song.”
“Listen to the song though,” DeeDee said. “Like Beyonce. Like Trina. Like a big booty ass Black Diva. Like a Stripper. Bend ova, lemme see it from da back.” She got up and helped herself to another bowl of nachos while everyone laughed at the inside joke. Everyone, but Jade that is, she didn’t seem to find the joke funny at all.
So she snapped, “Shouldn’t you be singing that song Ms. Get Around?”
The silence I heard after that boosted my adrenaline like the question had been directed at me. I could smell a fight in the mist. Koko who had been up dancing sat back down. Teezy’s facial expression was neutral as it had been from the moment I walked in through the door. Koko’s beady eyes shifted from Teezy to the radio as if she was about to say something. I hadn’t been around them long enough to know their persona as well as I knew Jade’s, so I figured that maybe Jade and DeeDee bickered all the time because that’s exactly what the outcome was. I was delighted. I wanted the two to fight. I wanted to see what Jade was all about. But Teezy didn’t let the argument go on for too long.
“Look, it’s already 10:30. Jade. Dee. Ya’ll need to work something out before we get to this party. If we want to fight, let’s fight on other hoes.” Everyone was quiet. But DeeDee had to say something, “Jade, you lucky. I ain’t gone even get on you.”
Teezy looked at Dee. “Come on Dee. Let it go. This the first Greek Party of the semester. We gone get fucked up some more and have a good time, now who driving? I ain’t got enough gas. That automatically excluded me. Koko turned her head like she didn’t hear anything. Jade took action and stood up. I could tell in her eyes that even though Teezy had attempted to call truce amongst the two friends, there was still an unsettlement in Jade’s eyes. It wasn’t over.
“Well I’m taking my car, and if you riding with me, we need to roll out.” She grabbed her purse and left.
“Damn, she just left Dionne like that, man, see what I mean she-”
“Dee just let it go. You drive and Dionne and me can ride with you. Koko if psycho Jade ain’t drove off, you can ride with her, if not you can roll with us. Now, let’s go.
Jade hadn’t driven out of the parking lot just yet. She had her phone up to her ear when DeeDee pulled up. Koko automatically climbed out of the backseat and into Jade’s car. The window slid down and DeeDee said, “Hey you know how to get there?”
“Yea, you can follow me.”
I could not have been happier when Dee put the air on max. She looked over at me and laughed seeing my relevance from the heat that had beaten me down. “Yea, girl when they had this other building…shhhhiiiiiit let’s just say, we would have got in here and melted.” I laughed. I would be the last one she was taking home because my dorm was closer to Vincent’s apartment, where she would be staying for the night. Jade and Koko had decided to go to an after party, but I wasn’t interested. I just wanted to think about all the fun I had had.
“Where were Jade and Koko going?” I asked. Shit I wanted to know.
“To some frat party. I would have went, but…ya’ know.”
“Jade?”
“Is crazy. We always get into it because she think she know everything and try to put up a front sometimes. More like a lotta times. I ain’t got time for that shit. ‘Cause I’m far from worried about Jade. I have a dick appointment after tonight anyways,” Dee said looking down at her watch. We both laughed. Old DeeDee never seemed to quit. We were parked in front of my dormitory and it hadn’t felt like so much time had passed.
“Oh right girl, see ya’ later,” she said. “Oh, later on tonight, if you ain’t doin’ nothin’ wanna hang out with Vincent and some of his boys?”
“The basketball team?” I asked. My eyes wide and alert.
“Yep.”
“Hell yea.”
“Look at cha’ I’ll call you later on, but hold up let me make sure I got your number in my phone.” That was what I meant. Everybody had everything except for Dionne. Lyric had even got lucky enough to get herself a piece of the pie before she left. “Nope what is it?”
After giving DeeDee my room number, I walked down the eerie hall way just to spot Fran sitting up against my door. She was reading the bible. “Girl is you crazy?” It was past midnight and we didn’t even live in the same building. Instead of replying she looked up at me, half way smiling, half way frowning and continued to read.
I figured two could play that game. I knew Fran was bugging because I had been out with the crew and missed out on bible study twice in a week, but I was like damn, give me a break. Bible study was whack anyways. What good did it do to sit around a whole bunch of nuns and talk about shit I could have been talking about at home? We in college. College. The place where those ignorant muthafuckas expected us not to be. “Excuse me, I’m going in my room, you can come in if you want to,” I said careless of my politeness.
I was delighted when she closed the bible that had taken up her whole lap and followed me into the room. I couldn’t wait to tell her how hype the party was. “Man you should have went. First girl let me tell you, you know this girl named-”
“No Dionne and I don’t think I want to know. Those girls you hang out with are fast D. They older than you.”
“So what? You are too by two years. Which makes you and Jade the same age so what’s the point you trying to get at. Put it in the air.”
“They ain’t your friends is what I’m trying to say. They hindering you from doing what you need to do. Anybody who have you missing out on something to glorify God ain’t your friend.”
“Man you just saying all that shit because you weren’t invited. Maybe if you take your head out of that bible for just once you can make some friends. You know Fran, you really changed since Cheyenne.”