In My Sister's House

by Donald Welch

  Trying not to show any signs of fear, Storm held her head high and gave hard cold stares to the women, who looked as if they could devour her at any moment. Something trickled down her leg and she didn’t know if it was pee or if her flow had started. She was frightened.

  Storm told her story calmly, and Skylar listened, their argument forgotten for the moment. “Wasn’t long before things changed. They started fucking with me. The guards didn’t say shit. And I know they saw what was going on. Bitches playfully pulling on my hair when I walked by. This one named Shane tried me and I knocked her the fuck out!

  “You know I have nothing against lesbians. We both know that Nettie’s one and we love her to death,” Storm reminded Skylar. “But I’m not down with that shit!” She took her time before she went on with the story.

  “I … I was finishing up my shower one day when I felt a hand around my mouth and one around my throat. Before I knew it I was being forced down on the floor. Right away I knew what was happening. It was four of them.” Storm got lost in the memory of it and tearfully went on; she’d almost forgotten that Skylar was in the room. “I fought for my life as they took turns doing shit to me that …that made me feel like throwing up. One by one, they probed my body with fingers, hands … objects.”

  Skylar covered her mouth with her hand, frightened as she listened to her sister’s story. It was hard for Storm to go on, but she did.

  “One of them told me if I didn’t shut up and cooperate, that I’d meet Johnny. The voice sounded familiar to me, and when I opened my eyes, it was Trae—the one I was handcuffed to when I came in. The one that told me to watch myself. Another one shouted that the last bitch that didn’t do what they wanted was now wearing a colostomy bag. With that, Trae showed me what looked like a broomstick. Stroking it up and down like it was a dick, she let me know that this was Johnny. I closed my eyes and let them do just what they wanted. Even in the midst of what was happening to me I secretly vowed to get revenge.” Tears flowed down both sisters’ cheeks. Storm had no control over her words, talking even though her brain said stop, even though her heart said it was too painful. Storm steadily purged every disgusting and foul thing they had done to her.

  At this point Skylar wished that she’d stop, too. It was not what she had expected to hear from her sister.

  “You know what it does to a person’s mind when they’ve been messed with, Sky?” Storm said, looking at her sister with tears in her eyes. “And the worst part?” She fought the lump in her throat. “There ain’t shit you can do about it. Who you gonna tell? Huh?”

  She went on to tell Skylar that for days she pretty much stayed to herself. She didn’t shower, even when the stench of her own body got to her. Not long afterward, she was moved into another cell with three other girls. They’d all heard about what had happened to her, but no one said anything until Layaway, a lifer Jamaican chick in her fifties, befriended her. Layaway got her name because she was always borrowing from the commissary and promising to pay it all back as soon as she got more money on the books.

  Storm said she was leery at first because she figured that Layaway would eventually want the same thing from her as the others. But this was not the case. Layaway was actually disgusted when she heard what they did to her. Dyking might have been her thing, but rape sho the fuck wasn’t. She told Storm that Trae had set the whole thing up and was boasting to everyone that she’d turned “Shortirock” out!

  “Layaway told me if I wanted to get even, she had a plan. Told me to put in for laundry duty in the basement with her. Trae worked there, too. I wanted to ask what the plan was but I didn’t because I didn’t give a fuck. I just wanted a chance to get that dyke back. Wanted to get all four of them, but that would be impossible, especially so soon, and having a shot at the ringleader sat very well with me. But I needed to know what was in it for Layaway.

  “Well, she just didn’t like the bitch, that was it. They had some beef over Trae snitching about some weed or something,” Storm said and let out a chuckle. “Layaway got angry just thinking about it! So we put a plan together, knowing that Trae had asthma and always needed her inhaler; she kept one in her cell and one in her prison smock that stayed in the laundry room, because it was always stifling hot down there. Shit, it was so hot the guards barely even came down there. It was usually just the three of us, me, Layaway, and Trae, who would do shit like slither her tongue in and out of her mouth and whatnot whenever I passed by. And so one day we’re working, and Layaway walked by me and mouthed ‘Today’ and kept going. It took a moment for it to register what she meant, but seconds later my heart started pounding out of my chest. After all the anticipation, this was it.

  “I still had no clue what Layaway had cooked up, but I was ready no matter what. Like clockwork, at three in the afternoon, the heat was getting to Trae and she went for her inhaler. Only this time it was not in the smock pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her going from pocket to pocket looking for it. Only it wasn’t there. She asked Layaway if she saw it, and me, and we were all like, ‘Nah.’ But then Layaway said she’d go up to Trae’s cell to get the other one, pretending to do her a favor, you know?

  “I was kind of shocked when Trae agreed, but so be it. But she didn’t know that inhaler was never coming. Layaway left the room and gave me a nod to follow her. Trae was so into her own breathing and shit and keeping cool that she never even noticed that I was right behind Layaway, or that we locked the door behind us.

  “I was scared shitless. Layaway said she’d be right back and under no circumstances should I open that door. To make sure I did what she said, she took the key with her. After a few moments, Trae looked up and saw that I was gone and started rushing toward the door.

  “She was screaming at us to open the fuckin’ door! Twisting and turning the doorknob, pounding on the glass. She even tried to find something within reach to break it. But nothing could. It was too thick.”

  Turning to Skylar, Storm asked, “Do you know what a person looks like when they can’t catch their breath, and all the while know that directly on the other side is fresh air? Staring through that glass, I never once thought of trying to help that bitch in any way. I wanted her to feel what I’d felt that horrible day on the shower floor— helpless. I wanted that dirty bitch to die. That was one of the best days of my life,” Storm proudly stated to Skylar.

  Storm took her time before finishing the story.

  “When the warden questioned us about Trae’s death, I expected Layaway to say how she hadn’t gotten back in time with the inhaler and that I hadn’t come to work that day. Anything! Layaway’s record was clean. All the Bulls thought she was cool and the staff trusted her. Imagine my shock when I heard her say that in fact she was the one who didn’t come to work that day, and that to her knowledge, only me and Trae were down there.

  “I started screaming at her to tell the truth. She didn’t budge, and I was led away to the hole, awaiting further investigation,” Storm told Skylar.

  Thrown into the dark room, Storm had stayed in a fetal position for the next eight hours. She wondered why all of this was happening to her. Had she really been that bad of a person? Where was God? Where was Dutch? No one was there to help her. No one cared.

  When they took her out of the hole, they brought her back up to the warden’s office, where he told her that, although there was no clear evidence that she had anything to do with Trae’s death, he was recommending that she serve out her entire sentence. Too many other cellies knew she had gone to work that day. Therefore, she was most likely present when Trae needed help but chose to stand around and watch her suffer.

  “I couldn’t believe that shit,” she continued. “I thought about calling Clara Bow, that attorney, but I knew I’d pissed her off last time. I just went back to my cell, and who’s there but Layaway, just chillin’, reading a magazine.

  “I straight up asked her, ‘Why would you do this to me? Why didn’t you tell them the truth? My eighteen months was almost
up and now I have to finish my entire sentence. I thought you were my friend.’

  “Well, she just looked at me like, ‘Would I rather her tell the Bulls what really happened, so they could keep fucking with me verbally and sexually and all that, or would I rather her say I wasn’t to be messed with? You know, that fucking with me could result in what happened to Trae.’ She was straight up, ’cause she ain’t have nothing to lose. She was like, ‘They taking me out in a body bag, so it ain’t shit for me to admit to what I did.’ That was real. Nothing was gonna change her situation, but she said, ‘You, well you are a li’l different.’ This way I looked like a cold-hearted bitch who had had enough, and no one would dare mess with me.”

  Turning to her sister, Storm walked closer to her. “Yeah, sis, I done seen a lot, done a lot. So don’t you ever tell me I ain’t been through shit!” Walking toward the kitchen doors leading back into the main club area, she turned to Skylar one last time. “Now give me my muthafuckin’ cut or we selling this bitch!” With that, she burst through the door, leaving it swinging back and forth, a visibly distraught Skylar standing in her own solitude.

  < SIXTEEN >

  The Storm Was Passing Over

  A few days after pouring her heart out to Nettie about the discovery of her biological father, Lovely decided to donate blood to Felix Murphy. It had not been an easy decision. She was shocked, angry, sad, and confused, but surprisingly a little happy. Happy because at least the unanswered question of who her father was had been answered. She’d never believed the story that her mother told her about him dying before she was born. Whenever she asked about her father as a child growing up, her mother would become angry. “I told you he died before you were born, didn’t I?” her mother would say. One time she had even made the mistake of asking her mother if she missed her father. She was sent to her room and told to go to bed. Seconds later she heard her mother softly crying in her room. That moment, she decided never to ask about him again.

  Now she was on her way to the hospital to do the right thing. She made it clear to Hertha James that although she had agreed to do this, in no way did she want any communication with Mr. Murphy. Even after he inquired about the “pretty brown girl” who used to come and see him. She was not going back to see him. She couldn’t. She didn’t love him. How could she possibly love the man who had raped her mother and put her through the mental anguish she’d obviously been going through for so many years? Besides, he never knew about her. It was too painful. But as a nurse, she had pledged to help anyone with a medical crisis, and if that meant getting personally involved by donating blood for a person to live, then so be it.

  As she pulled into the hospital employee lot, her cellphone rang. It was her son, Tony Jr. “Mommy, when are you coming to get me?”

  “Soon, baby. Mommy’s coming to get you soon,” she said. There was a moment of silence on the phone. “Tony, are you okay? What’s the matter?” She knew that whenever her son got quiet, something was bothering him.

  “I’m sad, Mommy,” he said softly.

  “Sad, why? Aren’t you having a good time with Grammy?”

  “Yes,” he said, even softer.

  “Then why are you sad, Booby?”

  “Because I miss you,” Tony said in between his sniffles.

  “Aw, baby, Mommy’s right here. You know that.” Lovely sounded sad herself.

  “I don’t want you to go away like Daddy,” Tony said before getting quiet.

  “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll come and get you today,” she said. After hanging up with her son, Lovely broke down. She could not believe that her son felt abandoned. She honestly thought she was doing the right thing by sending him to his grandmother’s while she tried to figure out everything that was going on in her life.

  None of this stopped the guilt from taking over. Maybe it was selfish sending him away. No one meant more to her than her son, and his thinking any differently killed her inside. She knew what she had to do. As soon as she left the hospital she was going to get her son, take him home with her, where he belonged, and never leave again.

  Entering Jefferson, Lovely was hoping not to see many coworkers— she didn’t feel like any conversation. In fact, she instructed Hertha not to mention that she was coming in. She just wanted to go directly to the lab, do her duty, and leave. Before she got there, though, she ran into Hertha. “Hey, Lovely, could I have a word with you in the office?” Hertha asked.

  Lovely assumed that Hertha was going to try again to persuade her to see Felix. But her mind was made up and there was no changing it. After today, she never wanted to think about Felix Murphy again.

  “Hertha, I know what you’re going to say and the answer is still no. I—”

  Hertha cut her off and asked her to sit down. “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Lovely. Mr. Murphy died this morning.”

  “What? How? When?”

  “Less than an hour ago. He took a turn for the worse and suffered a massive heart attack. I tried calling your cell but it went directly to voice mail. I’m sorry, Lovely.”

  “What happens now? I mean, has his family been notified?” Lovely asked.

  “Unfortunately, Mr. Murphy did not have any next of kin listed in his records. He resided at the Simpson House in Bala Cynwyd. They are sending someone to claim the body.”

  Simpson House was an adult-care facility, a rest home for the elderly. Lovely had visited it several times while in nursing school and volunteered there during the Christmas holiday.

  Hertha thanked Lovely for coming in and asked how she was doing.

  “I’m coming alone fine, thanks,” Lovely said, forcing a smile.

  “Well, you’re very much missed around here. We look forward to you returning when you’re able. Just take as much time as you need. You’re one of the best nurses this hospital has, and your job is secure with us.” Hertha got up and hugged Lovely.

  After leaving Hertha’s office, Lovely walked down the hall in a daze, full of mixed emotions. Why was Felix Murphy’s death affecting her? It couldn’t have been losing a father, because to her knowledge her father had been dead for years. Was this her fault? Would he have survived had she donated the blood days ago? In order to avoid a group of nurses waiting for the public elevator, Lovely went down a side corridor to the service elevator, which actually went down closer to the employee parking lot anyway. On the way down, the elevator stopped on the sixth floor. Kareem, an orderly, got in with a gurney holding a covered, deceased patient. He was happy to see Lovely.

  “Hey, Lovely, you’re back, huh?” he said, smiling at her.

  “Hi, Kareem. No, I’m not back yet. I just had to come in to take care of some things.” Before the door closed, Kareem stopped it midway.

  “Shoot, I forgot my radio. Lovely, you can go on down, Rob is waiting in the back to transport this body to the holding area. He’ll meet the elevator when it stops. Thank you!” Kareem leapt off, leaving the gurney, with his clipboard flat on the top sheet.

  “Okay, Kareem.” Lovely managed a chuckle. She always liked Kareem and thought that he was a great kid. He planned on being a doctor: He worked at the hospital during the summer and was a fulltime student at Temple during the rest of the year.

  A sudden jolt of the elevator stopped it between floors.

  “Damn!” Lovely said out loud. She had forgotten that this particular elevator periodically got stuck between floors. Something caught her eye on the paperwork Kareem had left on the clipboard. At the bottom right corner in red block letters the word “unknown” was stamped. Lovely knew that it meant the person was a vagrant or homeless with no family or next of kin. She looked toward the top of the page and to her stunned horror, she saw the name “Felix Murphy.” Dropping her purse and closing her eyes, she backed up against the wall of the elevator and clutched her chest. She frantically started pushing the lobby button on the elevator panel. But then Lovely was suddenly overcome by a sense of calm. She slowly turned toward the body on the gurney an
d began to speak through her tears.

  “I’m sorry that your life has ended this way. I truly am. These last few weeks you have caused me a lot of heartache, but not nearly as much as the lifetime of pain you caused my mother. However, somehow, I don’t hate you. I pity you. I feel pity for what must have been a trying life you led. May God bless your soul, and may you rest in peace.” Wiping away tears, she stepped a bit farther back from the gurney. The elevator started moving and continued its descent. As the doors opened, she turned toward the body. “Good-bye, Father.”

  < SEVENTEEN >

  If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don’t Wanna Be Right

  Sitting on the side of his bed, DuBoy lit up a blunt and took a long drag. It had been more than two weeks since he last brought up the issue of the club to Storm, and Torch was sweating him now more than ever. Storm was going to have to act on this shit! Hell, he was tired of pretending that he loved her. How could he? They spent damn near three years apart. To be frank, he wasn’t even feeling her that much sexually anymore. Sure, the first few days were off the chain, but Storm was falling off her game. She was spending more and more of her time at Legends, which would have been a good thing if she had been working on her sister about the buyout. But he knew for a fact she hadn’t been saying too much of anything to Skylar. In fact, Gidget told Torch that Skylar and Storm hardly ever spoke.

  Thinking about Gidget made him laugh. That girl came to Legends like she was a little innocent white farm girl wanting to dance, when that was far from the truth. DuBoy knew the kind of freak Gidget was. The shit the two of them did sexually would’ve been banned from a porn flick. Thinking about it made him want to lie back across the bed and pleasure himself, but he decided against it. He had plenty of freaks on speed dial. Picking up his cellphone he made a call.