The Ex Killer Series

by Bridget Bundy

  SATURDAY, MAY 16, 2009

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The room was quiet. That was the first night I slept without Olivia in the room. I liked having the room to myself. When I was about to turn over on my side to go back to sleep, a tap came at my window above my head. I turned over on my belly to see who it was, and there was this young bumpy, brown face little girl with two ponytails and a smile for miles. She had both hands to the window, and she was trying to look into the room. Olivia was always up early on Saturday doing whatever she did with the kids in the neighborhood, and this little girl was looking for her. I never asked Olivia what she did because I didn’t care. Just as long as she didn’t wake me up.

  I got on my knees in bed and tried to open the window. It was so old and rusty to the point where it was very difficult to move. I thought I was going to break it for a moment there. The little girl’s name was Lori Anna, and she was Jason’s sister. Yes, my ex-boyfriend’s little sister. The same ex-boyfriend Olivia slept with, or rather riding. I was still ticked off!

  Lori Anna was 9 years old, and she was the sweetest kid. I couldn’t believe her and Jason were related.

  I asked her, “Why are you tapping on my window so early in the morning, pretty girl?”

  “Where is Olivia? She’s supposed to meet up with us to do double-dutch.”

  I didn’t know Olivia still did that. “Lori, she’s not here.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s gone, honey, gone to live with her dad. You know how to double-dutch? Olivia taught you?”

  “Yep, Olivia taught us.” Lori Anna asked as she started jumping up and down, “You know how to double-dutch, Angela?”

  “I sure do. Olivia and I learned together. Are you and your friends out there in that old basketball court?”

  “We don’t call it a basketball court anymore. It’s a double-dutch court. If you want to jump with us, we’ll be out there until this afternoon, you know, before it gets too hot.”

  “Maybe next time, but you guys have fun.”

  She ran off to where her friends were waiting, and I worked the window back into place. I lay back down in bed, but I couldn’t go back to sleep. Looking at the ceiling and listening to the outside world seem to wake me up even more. I started smelling eggs and bacon and that was the final straw. I had to get up. Pritchard was probably fixing breakfast, and I was hungry.

  I took my basket of dirty clothes out of the closet in my bedroom, and I carried it to the washing machine in the kitchen. Pritchard and Andrea were eating breakfast. They didn’t speak to me because both of them had food in their mouths. I put all of my clothes in the washing machine. There was no need to color sort. They were so old and worn that it didn’t make any difference. Once the washing machine was started, I grabbed a plate from the cabinet and I cleaned it with soap and water.

  I started fixing a plate and Andrea said, “Those are my eggs.”

  I said without turning around, “You already have eggs on your plate.”

  She stated angrily, “I don’t know why you think we made something for you! You need to take your lazy ass to the store and get your own damn food!” I gave her money yesterday, and this is the thanks I get. I get cussed out and told to get my own food. I haven’t been up for 30 minutes, and I could already tell my sister and I was going to have a bad day together.

  I turned to face Andrea and said, “I’m going to fix myself a plate, and I like to see you try and stop me.”

  Andrea looked at Pritchard, and he was looking down at his plate chewing on a piece of bacon. He knew not to get involved. He better just keep on chewing that fat. I put the last pieces of bacon on my plate, and I sat down beside him.

  Andrea stared me down, but it didn’t affect me one bit. I didn’t care what she said or what she thought of me. I ate my food and took my time and enjoyed it. I had no idea where my next meal was coming from, and she wasn’t going to make me feel bad about eating in the apartment I help provide. The moment I finished eating, I washed my plate and fork and put them in the dish rack. I poured myself a glass of tea and stood by the sink.

  I asked them both, “Where were you guys yesterday?”

  Pritchard answered, “I worked yesterday.” He was still looking down at his plate and steady chewing.

  “You weren’t working during the graduation. You were here when I left. As a matter of fact both of you were here.” I reminded him.

  Pritchard shuffled in his seat and Andrea turned towards the kitchen window. She started moving around and leaning forward to get a better glimpse of the back parking lot.

  I said trying to get her attention, “You know Olivia graduated from high school yesterday, right?”

  “SO DAMN WHAT!” Andrea snapped back. “What’s so damn special about that?”

  Pritchard said calmly, “Angela, we tried to get there.”

  “You probably did, but she didn’t.”

  “Keep on running your mouth! Just keep on!” Andrea gave me a nasty look and turned her attention back to the window. I guess the subject was something she didn’t want to deal with. I knew it would be like this. That’s why I wasn’t going to tell her about Olivia moving out.

  I had to stand by the sink and finish my tea because one of us would have turned over the table by now, and Pritchard would be trying to pull us apart. I really hated how she acted sometimes.

  I remarked, “She was looking for you.”

  “She was probably looking for me so she could avoid me.” Andrea stood and yelled, “WHO THE HELL IS YOU, FOOL!”

  Pritchard turned in his chair to look out the window, and I bent over to see who she was yelling at. Oh God, it was Milton! I will agree with my sister this one time. He is a fool, and why was he standing in the back lot looking at my apartment? It looked like he was talking to himself.

  Andrea stormed over to the back door like a mad woman. She pushed it wide open and shouted, “WHAT THE HELL YOU WANT! YOU STAKING MY APARTMENT! I GOT A GUN!”

  How ridiculous that sounded. She didn’t own a gun, didn’t know how to operate one, and would probably shoot herself first.

  Milton was trembling when he answered, “I’m here to see Angela.”

  Andrea looked at him from head to toe, and remarked, “She doesn’t want to see you. You too damn fat!”

  Andrea was like Tanie. She’d say anything. I felt bad for him, standing out there by himself, talking to no one, looking desperate. I think he had enough of Andrea’s torture. He needed to be rescued. I walked pass Andrea, and I closed the door behind me. She was still fussing and calling him names, and I could hear her clear outside. I stood on the small back porch waiting for him to say something.

  Milton remarked as he slowly came up to the bottom of the porch, “Your sister sure is mean to me.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Milton. She’s mean to me, too.”

  “I came by to see how you doing, Angela. The other night seemed a little crazy. Was that Jason?”

  “Yea, it was.”

  “I ain’t never ever seen a naked man before, other than myself. I’ve looked at myself naked in the mirror before, but I haven’t looked in the mirror at other dudes.”

  I had nothing to say about that. I mean, really, what could one say to that last statement?

  Milton wanted to come up on the porch where I was, but I had an unwelcoming stance. He said, “I came by because I wanted to talk to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “And I was hoping to take you out.”

  He sure was persistent. I never gave him any kind of indication that I wanted to be around him or date him. I asked, “Where do you want to take me, Milton?”

  “I was hoping you and I could go to the diner for breakfast. They make the best pancakes. I bet Jason won’t be there. He ain’t got clothes to wear. I saw that the other night.” Milton was being very serious, and it took every fiber of my being not laugh. He thought he was making perfect sense.

  “Milton, how are we going to get to the di
ner? Do you have a car?” I was being a smart ass, and I knew he didn’t realize it.

  “It’s a nice Saturday morning, Angela. I thought you and I could walk into town together. We can hold hands and stuff.”

  “No, Milton, I don’t think so.”

  “You don’t think so about going to breakfast or holding hands or stuff?” He was gazing at me with big wide eyes, and he looked really nervous.

  I hated he was here. I wish he was interested in someone else. I answered, “I’m not going to the diner. I’m not holding your hand, and I’m not doing ...stuff.”

  Milton sighed, clearly unhappy with my answer. “How about…”

  “No, Milton, no to everything. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not interested in you. I don’t ever want to date you, Milton. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I hated to be so blunt, but he gave me no choice. Didn’t he understand that last night in the car?

  He was quiet, looking down at the ground. I think he understood. Without saying another word, I went back inside not waiting for him to answer my question. That’s all he was doing was pissing me off anyway.

  Pritchard remarked, “Milton is a nice young man, Angela. You shouldn’t be so ugly towards him.”

  I smartly stated, “Well, since you think he’s such a nice young man, why don’t you date him?”

  Andrea chuckled a little at what I said and remarked, “Pritchard, don’t say anything to her. She thinks she’s better than him because he’s a fat boy and retarded. Rattlesnake there actually has standards.” She looked at me and continued her insults, “You should consider dating him, Angela. Actually, you two should get married. You guys can be broke, uneducated, and miserable together. You can move in with him and his mama. It’ll be a perfect relationship.”

  I went to my bedroom. I had to. Andrea knew she hurt my feelings, but I didn’t want her to see. Her words were like sharp daggers in my heart. It wasn’t a stabbing sensation. It was worse. It was more like a painful digging sensation, and I had tears burning in my eyes from those insults. I needed to get out of that apartment. There had to be something better. An old man and an alcoholic, drugged up sister was not a part of the future I planned for myself.

  Who am I kidding? I had no plans. I was stuck.

  CHAPTER NINE

  My morning started off bad, but there was still time to try and find some enjoyment. I cleaned myself up as quickly as possible and I headed for the outside. Before I could get out of the apartment, Pritchard called me to the kitchen.

  He said, “Stephanie called while you were in the shower.”

  I didn’t thank him. I simply walked out of the back door. Stephanie was my other friend, and she lived in Covington Point Projects, too, but she stayed in the last row of apartments. She was a really good person. She was around the same age as me and Tanie. She’s in the Army part time, which I really didn’t understand. Stephanie doesn’t seem like the kind of person that would join the military, but I guess it shows just how little I knew about her.

  I hadn’t seen Stephanie in about a week. She had some major problems going on, and I stayed out of her way as much as possible. I was on the way to her apartment, when I happen to see her standing at the tall fence surrounding the old basketball court. She was leaning forward on it, her fingers clutched around the rusty wires, and a cigarette lit and burning between her fingers. She was stressed. I imagined these days Stephanie was stressed all the time. I strolled over to her.

  When Stephanie saw me, she took one last smoke and dropped it to the ground. She squashed it with her shoe, and said to me, “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry about? I don’t mind you smoking.” I remarked as I watched the girls dancing and jumping. They were really good.

  Stephanie remarked, “I love watching the kids. They bring back memories of when we use to double-dutch.”

  “We had a lot of fun back then.” I smiled thinking back to the days when Olivia, Stephanie, and I used to get in the parking lot and start jumping. There were other kids with us back then, but most of them moved out of Covington or out of Colum entirely. Those were the best times. My mom watched us. Matter of fact, a lot of the parents would come out and watch us, and they would cheer us on. You could tell they were proud of us. I wished I could relive that history. I was so happy back then.

  “I came by your apartment last night. I needed a place to stay.”

  I asked, “What time did you come by?”

  “I don’t remember the exact time. I stayed with Helen instead.” Stephanie slid out another cigarette, and she was trying to light it. Her hands were shaking so bad. I gently took the lighter and cigarette from her and lit it in my mouth. I gave her the cigarette back, and she looked up at the sky as she inhaled.

  “You look really tired. Did you get any rest last night?” I asked.

  “No, I had Coop on my mind. Coop came home and brought his friends with him. I hadn’t seen him since the baby…” Stephanie couldn’t complete the sentence. She cleared her throat and continued, “They were doing drugs in the house. I couldn’t stay there. The military does drug testing, and I could get in big trouble if they find any of that crap in my system. Second hand or whatever, it doesn’t matter. I can’t take that chance.”

  “Stephanie, it’s your apartment. You need to make him leave.”

  “I can’t do anything with him. He’s as big as the front door and stronger than an ox when he’s loaded. I just stay out of his way. That’s all I can do.”

  “Well, you can stay at my apartment tonight if you want. Olivia won’t be home.”

  “Thank you, Angela, I appreciate that.”

  Stephanie was in deep pain. She had a miscarriage, and she really didn’t have anyone to console her or anyone that truly understood her pain. Cooper, or Coop we call him, doesn’t help her. I wish she’d just leave him. He made things ten times worse. I asked, “How have you been holding up?”

  Stephanie said, “I miss him. I miss him a lot.” She was talking about her dead baby.

  The circumstance on how the baby died is sad. But a lot of people that lived in Covington Point Projects were not surprised. I have to admit, I wasn’t, either. Stephanie and Coop were due to have a baby in October 2009. He came home last week drugged up and crazy, like he did all the time. They got into a fight, and the baby didn’t make it. Stephanie won’t leave Coop because I think she’s afraid of him. Coop comes and goes as he pleases, and he lives in different houses depending upon the drug of the moment. But when he does come home, their battles are beyond the battles that my sisters and I have. I hope Stephanie finds a way to leave him. She won’t survive if she stays.

  “He has ruined my chances of ever becoming a mother.” She wiped the tears on her sleeve and flicked the ashes away. “I use to think that if I had a child with Coop, he would change. He would stop the drugs and stop cheating on me, but he kept right on.”

  Here I am thinking my life is so horrible, and here is Stephanie. Her life is worse than mine. I can’t even imagine losing a baby and then having to deal with a drug addict boyfriend. Stephanie was trying so hard to make it, and it seemed like everything around her was against her. I felt her pain.

  The depression was getting to me, and I had to do something to get our spirits up. I decided to double-dutch with Lori Anna and her friends. Maybe, seeing me jump again would make her feel better. I don’t know, but it was worth a try. Stephanie watched as I got in the ropes and was jumping like a champ. But I quickly got winded and didn’t stay with it for long. I got out of the ropes barely able to walk and ready to die, and Stephanie was cracking up. I was way out of shape for jumping. Stephanie became inspired, flicked her cigarette away, and she got in there and jumped, too. She was keeping up, spinning, and jumping with one leg. She finished with a cartwheel out of the rope. Show off. The girls began clapping and cheering, and we were right with them doing the same thing. Life was good at that moment.

  After we caught our breath and spent a few more min
utes watching the girls, Stephanie and I began walking. The day was perfectly warm, and the sky was clear. Taking a walk, getting some fresh air, was like natural medicine. We both needed it.

  Stephanie and I headed towards my apartment after a couple of hours. I was hoping that Andrea and Pritchard were gone to Miss Margaret’s house for their never missed weekend drink fest. When we were walking up the sidewalk, a sheriff’s car was parked behind my sister’s car. What was going on now? Deputy Emily Brock was knocking on the door when we arrived at my porch. I knew Deputy Brock. She was so serious about her job, more serious than the other Deputies.

  Deputy Brock saw me, and she stepped off the porch. Her clear blue eyes glared at me angrily when she asked, “Where is Andrea?”

  I answered, “Her car is still here. I guess she’s inside.”

  She demanded, “Open the door.”

  “Why?” I asked curiously.

  “Open the door, Angela, or I’ll arrest you for interfering with a police investigation!”

  I almost busted out laughing. Emily Brock, a big mean police officer, but as little as a ten year old girl. I never understood how anyone took her seriously. I went over to unlock the door anyway, and Deputy Brock stood close behind me. As soon as I opened the door, she pushed passed me. She walked into the living room not missing a stride, kicking over bottles, and she went towards the kitchen. Andrea was standing at the counter drinking out of a gin bottle. That stuff made my skin crawl, and my sister was drinking it like water.

  Deputy Brock clutched her handcuffs and gun and said, “Andrea, put the bottle down.”

  Andrea slowly looked around at Deputy Brock like she was crazy. “What is…who got you here?” She was completely wasted.