Abnormal lives, p.22
Abnormal Lives, page 22
31
All Simone did was sleep and cry during the week that she spent in solitary confinement. She left her cell once to go to medical. While she waited to be called in the back to have her blood work done, she overheard the other women bragging about the different jails they had been in and how they wished they could be transferred to a particular jail instead of serving their time in the one that they were in. She thought jail was jail. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could have a preference or could possibly wish to go anywhere but home. She could not wait until her preliminary hearing. She hoped Paris had called to find out what day she was to appear in court so he could come, find out how much her bond was, and then bail her out.
The first day of the second week of her stay, Simone lay in her bed staring at the wall. She wondered what time of day it was; the filth that covered the window in her cell prevented the sunlight from giving her a clue as to whether it was morning or night. She wouldn’t know if it was morning until the lights came on or the deputy came around to announce chow. This shit is torture, she thought. To be confined so long she had no concept of time, to be fed things domestic animals would turn their noses up at, to consume fluid that smelled like juice but looked and tasted like water; it was inhumane. Was this the place she had heard so many people brag about going to? The same place they had said you could grow accustomed to after a while. They had to be crazy or had not yet found anything to live for. Even if that were the case, how could anyone get used to such a place? It was a place that shattered hope and stunted spiritual and physical growth. It was one of those places that you would die just to leave.
“Simmons! Medical! Bring your things!” the deputy shouted, bringing Simone back into the moment.
Simone shoved her sheets and hygiene products down into her pillowcase, grabbed her mattress, and then waited by the door for the deputy to escort her.
Simone walked past the pregnant women lined up at the door, waiting to be escorted back to their tiers. She walked to the back and took a seat. She wondered would she ever have the opportunity for a life to be planted within her womb.
The doctor stood in front of Simone, looking down at the sheet of paper that he held in his hand. “Simmons, your blood tested positive for HIV.”
“HIV? How is that possible?” Simone asked as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I didn’t have that shit before I got here.”
The doctor looked at Simone and sighed. “I’m going to start you on Combivir and Ziagen.”
A nurse walked in with two small cups; one with water and the other with several tablets. One of the tablets was familiar to Simone; it was yellow and had the same imprint as the prescription medication that she’d discovered in Stefan’s gym bag. Her tears grew heavy as she struggled to swallow the tablets. Ever since Stefan had died, her life had seemed to get worse each day.
How could he do this to me, she thought. How could he be so careless? They’d shared the same clients and often had unprotected sex with them. How could he do her like that? He was the only one who gave a damn about her and if that wasn’t true, then no one did. He was always there for her. He protected her. But why didn’t he protect her from himself?
The nurses in the back observed Simone crying. Simone could hear them talking amongst themselves.
“I feel so sorry for her,” one of the nurses said.
The other nurse rolled her eyes. “I don’t. That’s what happens when you run around selling your ass.”
Simone held her head down as she was escorted to the medical tier. She felt so low; there was no need for the deputy to unlock the door so she could get in. She could’ve crawled under the door and gotten in all by herself. Simone didn’t bother to look around to see the faces of those that sat in the dayroom as she made her way to her cell. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get to know anyone. She would go to sleep and never wake up. Simone threw her mattress on the bottom bunk and then lay down and cried until she fell asleep. She slept through lunch, dinner, and breakfast the next morning.
Simone was awakened by her cellmate who brought a letter in the room that was addressed from Stefan’s father. She could feel photos in the envelope as she opened it.
Simone,
I’m sorry that you and Stefan had to live the way you did. I only wish that I had been there for the both of you when your grandmother died so you and Stefan wouldn’t have had to raise yourselves. I wish that I would’ve stayed in Stefan’s life in the first place. Maybe I would still have a wife and a son. I can’t change what happened and I will never have the opportunity to make things right with Stefan, but I can make things right with you.
I’ll be at your hearing next week and if they give you a bond, I’ll post your bail. Your mother has moved back into your grandmother’s house. You know your grandmother left that house to her? You can stay with me until this whole thing is over with and you get back on your feet.
Paul gave your money to Sandra. I’ll use that to post your bond. If it’s not enough, we can use some of the other money he left you. He gave Sandra ten thousand dollars today. He said you won the jackpot and said you’d split the money with him. He said the ten thousand is your cut. He told Sandra he was moving to New Orleans and to tell you good luck and that he found his jewelry under your mattress.
Well, I’ll see you soon. Keep your head up, baby girl.
Love,
Uncle Dennis
Simone sat up on her bunk. Muthafucka, Simone thought. I can’t believe he stole my DVD. Mister “money ain’t everything.” Simone wanted to cry but thought she didn’t have enough fluid in her body to shed another tear. She looked at the pictures that Stefan’s father had sent her. She and Stefan were toddlers, dressed up and holding hands with their bushy hair all over their heads. They were smiling and staring wide-eyed into the camera. She looked at the next picture. It was Stefan lying in his coffin, wearing a suit and tie. Simone covered her mouth. He’s dead; I can’t believe he’s really dead.
“Ladies, chow!” the duty yelled as she walked past the tier.
Simone rushed to the window and screamed for the deputy.
“Deputy, I can’t stay here; I want to die! I want to kill myself!”
32
Two different days, one day at dawn and the next at dusk, Kenneth, Jamal, and Jana waited outside of Simone and Stefan’s house in the 2003 Buick they’d paid ten thousand dollars for from some old fellow they’d run across in front of his house taking groceries out the trunk of his car. They had been in Richmond for five days now, staying at a rinky-dink hotel. They could barely sleep while they were there. There was something about the bed, the sheets, the detergent used to wash the sheets, or maybe mites. Whatever it was, it made them itch.
This was the third day they had staked out the house, waiting to see Stefan, Simone, or Paris; preferably all three of them. Nightfall slowly approached. Kenneth sat in the car, slurping the last of his soda out of his cup. He was becoming agitated. This was the last day he was coming back to stake out the house and something had to give.
Jamal sat in the passenger side seat with his eyes closed. He was starting to doubt that anyone lived in the house. This has been a fucking waste, Jamal thought. All the time we spent trying to hunt their asses down, we could’ve made up for what they stole and then some.
Jamal looked at Kenneth out the corner of his eye and huffed. He closed his eyes again. The image he got of Kenneth stuck with him; red eyes, flared nostrils, sweat running down his face. Kenneth was intent on killing. He was psyched up for it, just itching to tear flesh apart like a rabid animal. Jamal shook his head. This nigga needs to lay off the coke. That shit’s fucking with his brain.
Jana sat in the back seat with a book in her lap, pretending to read when she had really spent the few hours they had been there praying that they had the wrong house, that Simone didn’t live there and if she did, that that day she would have a revelation and decide she was too young to stay cooped up in such a small city and decide she wanted to travel and see the world. Then she would leave town, not worrying about packing her belongings, and she would never return. Jana didn’t care what happened to Stefan or Paris, but there was something so naïve, so innocent about Simone that made Jana want to protect her and that made Jana love her. But she wasn’t about to put her life on the line for Simone. Kenneth had that look in his eyes and whenever he had that look, there was no reasoning with him. He would kill anyone who stood in his way. That’s why there used to be six of them and now there were only three. Jana wasn’t about to try her hand. Then there would just be two of them; Kenneth and Jamal. And she guessed after Kenneth eventually killed Jamal, he would go out on a limb and live out the rest of his life as a serial killer.
Damn, I like the bitch but she ain’t worth all that, Jana thought. And she ain’t give me no ass. If she shows up, she’s shit out of luck.
Kenneth crushed his Styrofoam cup in his hand. “This shit is really starting to piss me off. I’m ready to kill the next person that walks past this bitch.”
Jamal looked at Kenneth and shook his head.
Kenneth turned up his nose as he looked over at Jamal. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
Here we go, Jamal thought. “Shit!”
“Something’s up with yo’ bitch ass, shaking yo’ head at me like you think I’m some mutherfuckin’ punk,” Kenneth said, spit flying from his mouth. “Keep doing that shit and I won’t have to wait for the next person that walks by; I’ll smoke yo’ ass.”
Jamal turned toward Kenneth. “Yeah, and after you finish smoking it, you can suck out it for me.”
Kenneth grabbed for his gun.
“Hey!” Jana shouted. “Stop that. We came here to get even. How we gonna do that if we kill each other?”
Jamal turned around and looked at Jana. “Who the fuck asked you?
“I’m just saying... Look, forget it. This shit’s stupid. I don’t even think anyone lives here.”
“You’re the same bitch that thought a chick was in the bathroom taking a shit when her ass was long gone, so don’t tell me what the fuck you think,” Kenneth said, swinging his arms wildly as if he was fighting the air. “Just keep yo’ fucking mouth shut.”
“I say we go in the house and look around,” Jamal said. “I mean, if they live there, there’s got to be something like pictures; mail; some shit to let us know we’re on the right track.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Jana said.
“It’s a dumb-ass idea; especially since I told y’all shitheads that this is where the fuck they live,” Kenneth said.
“I’m just saying, it won’t hurt to go in and look around,” Jamal said.
“You know what I’m going to say?” Kenneth asked.
Jana shrugged and Jamal took a deep breath and looked out of the window.
“The next one of y’all that’s got an idea about how I should do shit is getting their brains spilled,” Kenneth said, gritting his teeth. “That should put an end to that shit.”
The car became silent. Kenneth sat there, trembling with rage like a teakettle about to boil over.
Jamal sat there thinking about how to cut ties with Kenneth. Dealing with him was getting to be too much. He didn’t know what to expect from him. One minute they were friends and Kenneth would do anything for him and the next minute he was threatening his life. Kenneth wouldn’t let him walk away that easily. If he tried to keep his distance, Kenneth would stalk him, pop up wherever he was, and try to buy him back into his circle. When that didn’t work, the threats would come next, and then he would follow through with them. Kenneth was like an abusive parent. When you were around, they talked about how they wanted to get rid of you, but when you ran away, they would hunt you down to get their punching bag back. Maybe one day soon someone would put Kenneth out of his misery. If not, he would have to make a move. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life enslaved by a psycho.
Jana was relieved that she’d managed to put an end to Kenneth and Jamal’s spat, even though they’d both dumped on her. If Kenneth shot Jamal, he would have to shoot her. She didn’t know where Jamal stood on the matter but she couldn’t sit there while Kenneth killed him. If Jamal was gone, she’d be left to deal with Kenneth by herself, and he’d eventually kill her, too. She couldn’t let shit go down like that. Why should she and Jamal be slain when ridding the world of Kenneth would make it a better place; especially considering it would bring the murder rate in the USA down by at least ten percent?
After thirty minutes of silence, Kenneth decided to do what Jamal had suggested. They got out of the car, shadows in the darkness as they made their way to the house. They checked the side windows but were unable to force them open.
“Why can’t we break a window to get in?” Jamal asked.
Kenneth slapped Jamal on the back of his head. “Why the fuck would I do that? You think I want someone to hear us?”
Jamal took a deep breath. Ain’t no helping this nigga.
They made one last attempt to get into the house, checking the windows on the front porch to see if one had been left open. Jana walked over to the front door, turned the knob, and it flew open. Jana gave Kenneth and Jamal a smug look and then smiled.
Kenneth grinned. “Girl, you must be my good luck charm.”
They walked into the house. It was a clean and cozy-looking place. Nothing like the places they resided in, where you had to be careful not to slip on whatever clothes were left on the floor, and there were no dishes sitting around waiting to be placed into the sink. It didn’t look like a place inhabited by two restless young adults like Stefan and Simone.
Jamal looked around the living room and shook his head. “I swear, this don’t seem like the place.”
“Did I ask yo’ dumb ass what it seems like?” Kenneth asked. “You should know by now, things are hardly ever what they seem.”
Jana went into the kitchen and walked back out with a dingy white shoestring and a used syringe. “Look what I found.”
“Oh naw,” Jamal said in disbelief. “I know they don’t get down like that.”
Kenneth sneered at Jamal and then made his way upstairs.
Jamal and Jana followed Kenneth upstairs. They went into Stefan’s room and searched for any indication that Stefan and Simone resided there, to no avail. Next, they searched Simone’s room and found nothing. As Kenneth was about to make his way to the grandmother’s room, Jamal pulled the headdress Jana bought for Simone out of the closet.
Jamal held up the headdress. “Look at this.”
“So what?” Kenneth said. “Don’t waste my time.”
“Naw, this is the headdress Jana bought for Simone during Southern Decadence,” Jamal said. “Isn’t it, Jana?”
Jana shrugged.
Kenneth took the headdress from Jamal and looked it over. “It damn sure is. It even smells like her.” Kenneth handed the headdress to Jana. “Doesn’t it, Jana?” Kenneth asked with a grimacing smile on his face.
Jana ran her fingers over the headdress. Fuck, there ain’t shit I can do if she shows up. She’s just late.
“Is something wrong, Jana?” Kenneth asked.
Jana shook her head.
Jamal grinned. “Why would it be? She ain’t even give you no play.”
The front door opened and the three looked at each other. Kenneth motioned for Jana and Jamal to get into the closet while he hid behind the bedroom door.
Tony shut the front door and then pulled the pack of chicken breasts he had stolen from the supermarket from under his shirt. He slapped Tessa on her ass. “Now get in there and cook this shit,” he said, pointing to the kitchen.
Tessa grinned as she took the pack of chicken out of his hand and made her way to the kitchen. “We got food and smack. We gonna have us some fun tonight.”
Tessa noticed her syringe and shoestring missing from the table and slammed the pack of chicken down. “Tony, where the fuck is my shit?”
“What?”
“You heard me, muthafucka,” Tessa spat. “Where the fuck is my syringe and my shoestring?”
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Tony asked.
“Ain’t nobody been here but me and you.”
“How you know that?” Tony asked. “You left the fucking door unlocked all day.”
“You better not have had some bitch up in here, using my shit.”
“Why the fuck you always jumping to conclusions?” Tony asked. “I don’t like it when you do that shit.”
“Who gives a fuck what you like?”
“You better watch how you talk to me, you ugly bitch.”
“Oh, I’m an ugly bitch? Is that why you was fucking some tramp and letting her use my shit up in my own damn mama’s house?”
“Man, shut the fuck up.”
“And I’m an ugly bitch. Well, this ugly bitch gonna cut yo’ ass if I don’t find my shit.”
“I swear, you’ve got to fuck up everything,” Tony said.
“I should’ve left your trifling ass alone when I found out you was fucking my nephew.” Tessa made her way upstairs. “Maybe you had some bitch upstairs fucking her in her ass, playing make-believe like she was Stefan. Let me check his old room. Maybe you were in there reminiscing.”
“You can check wherever you want,” Tony snapped. “If it’s up there, it ain’t ’cause I put it up there.”
Tessa looked around Stefan’s room and became frustrated when she didn’t find her drug paraphernalia. She became sweaty and her eyes watered. Tony placed his hand on Tessa’s shoulder, about to tell her that it was okay, that he could go out and find them a needle before they killed each other, but before he could, Tessa jerked away.
“Get the fuck off me!” Tessa yelled. She stomped into Simone’s room. “I’m gonna find my shit. You better hope it’s still in this house and you ain’t give it to one of your bitches.”
