Charity held on tightly to Luscious’ hair, treating her head as if she were a rag doll. She practically ignored Luscious’ flailing arms as she pulled her down closer to the tiled kitchen floor. The kitchen table was knocked over and powdered cocaine flew everywhere, and especially into the hair and clothing of both Charity and Luscious.
Luscious managed to regain her footing for a moment before Charity pushed her back toward the kitchen counter. She shoved Luscious so hard that once her back collided with the rounded edge of the counter, out of reflex she wrung her hands into her back and winced from the pain. Before she could pull her arms back up to her face, Charity had jumped on her with both fists flying as fast as possible. Before long, Luscious had fallen down to the floor, almost bouncing on her oversized ass as she landed, her legs spread out toward the middle of the kitchen floor.
With Luscious now on the ground, tears rolling down both cheeks as she looked hazy, Charity grabbed her hair, some of it coming out and spreading about the floor. “Bitch, don’t you come back to my house again!” she said and smacked her in her woozy face. “Don’t you come back to my house again, bitch!”
Charity smacked Luscious again across the face and backed away. She looked at her brother. “Nigga, get this hoe out of here!” she commanded.
Thomas rushed over to Luscious, whose right D-cup breast was exposed as her shirt had ripped when she fell down. Luscious, feeling humiliated, lifted herself up off the floor, pushing Thomas away from her. Tears rolled down her face like rain. She quickly made her way to the back door. “Fuck all y’all,” she said. “Fuck you, bitch! Fuck you too! Nigga, Thomas, take me home, goddammit, before I kill that bitch.”
The last few words were enough to send Charity over the edge again. She never put up with anyone threatening her life and especially not directly to her face. Charity pushed Thomas out of the way and followed Luscious out into the backyard. All anyone in the kitchen could hear was Luscious crying as Charity jumped on her yet again. By the time they all squeezed through the back door and got out into the backyard, Charity was sitting on top of Luscious and smacking her nonstop, calling her a sorry ass bitch over and over again.
Thomas watched in amazement as even more of Luscious’ clothing got ripped off, not to mention the numerous bald patches that had appeared on her head. After almost wanting to laugh, he snapped out of his childish ways and pulled his sister off of Luscious, telling her that she’d done enough. Luscious jumped up, her face now bruised and her eyes slightly blackened. “Take me home and drop me off,” she said to Thomas as she headed toward the front of the house. Thomas followed behind Luscious, around the side of the house, as Charity cursed more, calling Luscious a weak ass bitch, then headed back into the house.
Ayana shook her head and looked at Sharli. Sharli’s head hung low as she looked toward the front of the house and watched Luscious and Thomas climb into Thomas’ Escalade. All the while, Luscious covered her face with one hand and her exposed breast with another. “Girl, I am so sorry,” Sharli said to Ayana. She told her nephews to go back into the house because everything was over now. “I swear, when I called you earlier, these niggas was not here with all that. When you was on your way on the train, they came. I almost called and told you to not come, but Charity said there wouldn’t be no problems. Girl, I know this is the last thing you wanted to have to be around today. I can see it in your face. You really are worried about Tramar, ain’t you?”
Ayana, feeling confused and a little worked up, nodded. “Girl, it’s okay,” she said. “And yeah, I am really worried about him. But, girl, thanks for inviting me over, but I betta just go on and go home.” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse and looked at the time. “My day done started all wrong and stuff. I just need to go home and take a long, hot shower.”
“Girl, you wanna smoke?” Sharli asked. “You know I got that good shit. Don’t be fake and phony with me now and talk about how you don’t really smoke. I was at the last family function with you when you and Rodney and Romey went out back and smoked that weed.” Rodney and Romey were their distant twin cousins. The two had grown up in the same neighborhood as Sharli and Ayana, back when they lived in the same apartment community.
Ayana thought about it and shook her head. “Naw, girl,” she said. “I’mma just go home. Thanks for havin’ me over here.”
“Let me get my jacket, and I can walk you back to the station,” Sharli insisted. “I don’t want you walkin’ by yourself. You know how these niggas are around here, especially when a bitch got a little somethin’ goin’ on and shit.”
At first, Ayana tried to refuse her cousin’s offer. But before she could even muster up the words to do so, Sharli ran into the house and returned with her jacket. She slid it on, and the two of them walked back toward the train station. For the entire five-block walk, Ayana’s mind was drowning in confusion and misery. Every so many steps, she would check her phone to see if she had any missed calls or text messages, and she did not.
With each passing minute that Ayana had not heard from Tramar, the more and more reality began to sink in. Something in her gut was telling her that something had gone totally wrong. The two scenarios that Sharli had presented to Ayana were suddenly becoming frighteningly realistic to Ayana. They seemed to be feasible. It was almost too much to think about.
Ayana hugged Sharli goodbye once they’d gotten to the train station, promising to hit her up once she got home. For the next fifteen minutes or so, as Ayana sat on a seat on the train, she gazed out at the concrete jungle that was Chicago. Brick buildings, of all shades of brown and red, rose up at different heights. Power lines crossed the streets as clusters of men dressed in dark clothing congregated on various corners. Corner stores had all opened and were now buzzing with life. In the distance, police sirens and the odd gunshot acted as background noise to Ayana’s thoughts.
She looked down at her phone once more. Not being able to help herself, Ayana called Tramar once more. Yet again, there was no answer. Just as she was dropping her phone back into her purse, telling herself that she was going to just have to let time tell, she noticed a chick standing at the other end of the train. She spoke into an Iphone that was pressed into the side of her face, talking rather loudly, to the point that the rest of the train could hear her. Ayana cringed as she practically yelled at the father of her child, telling him that he wouldn’t get to see his baby until she got her child support. It took Ayana every bit of strength she had to keep from shaking her head; she hated when chicks in the hood would play that game – the game where the baby was collateral to get a check from a man.
Once the chick’s conversation had faded away, and she was stepping off of the train at a couple of stops before where Ayana would be getting off, Ayana thought about the situation that Tramar had going with Precious. No matter how much Ayana tried to be cordial with the chick, it never seemed to work. There was no doubt in her mind that the girl had a chip on her shoulder and just couldn’t let go. Ayana then wondered if child support was the reason that Tramar hadn’t come back from his trip to Bob Evans this morning. She tried shrugging it off, telling herself that there was no way Tramar would not tell her if he was behind in child support. However, if he was, she knew that Precious would use that to make his life a living hell.
***
For the rest of Saturday and Sunday, Ayana’s worry grew to extreme levels. She called Tramar’s father, telling him that she hadn’t heard from him and was getting worried. He, too, said that he hadn’t heard from Tramar. However, because he was over the age of eighteen, they would have to wait seventy-two hours before they could file a missing persons report. When Ayana hung up the phone on Sunday, her mother had just walked back into the house. As she passed Ayana’s bedroom, seeing that the door was open and that Ayana was home, she casually pulled her skirt down. No matter how casually she moved, however, it was still not enough to hide what was going on to Ayana. She rolled her eyes as her mother was about to ask how her weekend with
Mister Tramar was. As the words slipped out of her lips that Sunday afternoon, Ayana jumped up and closed the door. For the rest of the evening, she sat in peace and quiet in her bedroom. Something was telling her – in the depths of her soul, in the pit of her stomach – that things were about to fall apart. She and Tramar’s love was too deep for this to be happening to them. Little did Ayana know, however, how much her life was about to change within a matter of days – change in ways she’d never thought possible.
Chapter 3
Tramar’s entire weekend had been ruined at the hands of a scorned woman. The scorned woman, who he’d been with for the better part of six months back when he was a teenager, had now become his worst nightmare. This woman was his baby mama, Precious. Tramar came walking out of the Cook County jail on Monday morning after spending Saturday night and Sunday night inside. With a chip on his shoulder the size of a boulder, he walked over to the police impound to get his car back. He knew he had enough room on his credit card that he could charge it to that rather than having to use cash – cash which, to the system, he could not explain its origin.
When Tramar got his Dodge Charger back, he slid behind the while, biting his lip. He smiled at the impound center workers. Once back out onto the streets of Chicago, in an area that was blight with factories that had long gone out of business, Tramar drove to the nearest busy road. There, he found a Burger King where he pulled into the parking lot and parked at the back. Pulling his phone out of the Cook County bag, he cringed when he’d seen how many times his girl Ayana had called. He really did love that girl with all of his heart, and he could only imagine how terrible she must have been feeling. In fact, Tramar even went as far as thinking about how confused and maybe even scared Ayana may have been upon realizing that he never came back from getting breakfast.
Just as Tramar was about to call Ayana, he ended the call and decided that he needed to get something off of his mind. He skimmed through his contacts until he came to Precious and clicked on her name. In her usual stank attitude, Precious answered the phone as if everyone in the world was beneath her and should worship the ground on which she walked. “Hello? Who this?”
“Don’t fuck who is this to me, bitch,” Tramar said, furious and frustrated. “Why you do that shit? Why you report me like that? I thought we had an arrangement?”
Precious laughed. “Nigga, please,” she responded. “Yeah, we had an arrangement. But it’s funny how we got an arrangement until I don’t get the money I need to take care of our son. Then, guess what? I’m the one that gotta do some arranging to come up with money to pay the bills while you out runnin’ around the city with whatever her name is, living like ain’t shit goin’ on but the rent.”
“I swear,” Tramar said, shaking his head. “You be on one with the little nasty attitude that you got. You know I was gon’ get you the money once I got caught up on my child support.”
“Well,” Precious said, sounding as if she could not possibly care any less, “I don’t know what to tell you other than when I look at the balance on my card, it is really low for a single mother that is supposed to be gettin’ child support from her son’s father. I just can’t make much sense out of that, can you?”
“But you ain’t have to have me locked up for the weekend like that, Precious,” Tramar said. “You know I was workin’ on gettin’ your money.”
“That’s fine,” Precious said. “You can work on gettin’ my money Monday through Friday, and on Saturday and Sunday just sleep downtown with the other niggas up in there. I don’t know why I’m the one that gotta suffer while you out livin’ like you ain’t got no responsibilities. Nigga, I heard you and that chick gettin’ pretty serious nowadays. Congratulations. I hope you gettin’ serious about spending your weekends downtown behind bars. Cause a bitch is straight up gettin’ sick of this shit, nigga! I mean, c’mon. When the fuck you gon’ get a job?”
“A job?” Tramar said, feeling insulted. “Precious, you know how I make my money.”
“Well, I can’t say that I do,” Precious said. “Nigga, you six thousand dollars behind in child support. I don’t even know how you got time to hang out with Valana when you that behind in child support.”
“Precious, you just bein’ spiteful,” Tramar said. “And you know her name is Ayana. I don’t even know why you gotta play like that.”
“I don’t care what her name is, Tramar,” Precious said. “And, for whatever reason, I keep getting this vibe that you act like I’m supposed to care. If you still out in the streets making money, that’s fine, I guess. But damn nigga, where the fuck is the money?”
“Precious, I told you that I wanted you to take me off of child support ‘cause you know I can’t show my source of income to them fuckin’ racist ass white people downtown,” Tramar explained. “You already know that they probably breathing down a nigga’s neck. They even sent a cop that was racist as hell to pull me over and take me in. He even slammed me on the hood and shit.”
“Well, I’m sorry that happened to you,” Precious said, sounding not at all apologetic. “But even with a thing on the side, I still ain’t getting the money. Maybe if I was gettin’ what I needed, I wouldn’t have to call when you get behind. But, shit, it’s like I’m invisible.”
Tramar shook his head as he looked at cars pile into the Burger King drive thru. For the last several months, as things had gotten more serious between he and Ayana, Precious had gotten more direct with her tactics. Not only was her attitude stronger than an earthquake in Chile, but she was also starting to say things that were sexually suggestive. But there was just no way that he was going to cheat on Ayana. Sure, Ayana had some doubts over the few years they’d been together. However, Tramar could look in the mirror and see a man who had honestly never cheated on his girlfriend. And if he were going to do something like that, it would never be with Precious. He’d been down that road before and saw that it only led to hell. There was no way that he was going back.
“I told you, Precious,” Tramar said, clearly sounding irritated. “I’m not gon’ be fuckin’ you on the side.”
“I ain’t say that was what I wanted, Tramar,” Precious said.
“You ain’t say it,” Tramar said, “but that’s definitely what you was implying. I know you miss this dick and that’s why you actin’ up, but with how you actin’, you ain’t gon never get your money. How a nigga supposed to make money if you always sendin’ him to jail and shit.”
“Nigga, whatever,” Precious said, smacking her lips together through the phone. “I don’t know what got you thinkin’ that I miss that dick, but whoever told you that told you wrong.”
“You always try’na jump on it when I come around and shit, Precious,” Tramar snapped back. “Let’s not act brand new.”
“Nigga, whatever,” Precious said. “I ain’t got time to be sittin’ on the phone with little boys and shit. All I know is that you betta be workin’ on gettin’ at least some of my money together and maybe, just maybe, I won’t have you sittin’ in jail and shit this weekend. I might be nice enough to let you have the weekend to yourself if I get some money.”
“Bitch, I’mma get you your money,” Tramar said. “I’mma get you some fuckin’ money and shit.”
Tramar hung up the phone, his nostrils flaring. As much as he loved his son, there were times he’d wished that he had never laid down in the bed with Precious. She was a pretty face with a big ass that wound up being a villain. Not only was he sure that she was the type of chick who messed around when they were together, but he had his suspicions that she had begun trapping men after they broke up. Since the birth of their son, she’d gone on to have two more children by two different guys, meaning that her entire household income consisted of child support payments and various city, county, and state subsidies.
Tramar also knew that Precious was trying her best to humiliate him. She’d always hinted around at him getting a job, even if it was a job at McDonald’s. She knew good and well that Tramar would ne
ver be caught dead working at McDonald’s. The only way he knew how to make money was out in the streets. And he was going to stick with what worked rather than trying to fix something that wasn’t broken. He’d only gotten behind in his child support payments because the weight flowing in and out of Chicago had locked up for a moment. Different things had gone down on the south side that had caused a lot of the guys out in the streets to freeze up. In many ways, the streets were on lockdown for a minute, not to mention the restriction that comes along with all of the police-shooting protests. There were times that certain neighborhoods were so heavily policed that any dude who was selling, buying, or moving anything illegal would sit in the house with the doors closed and the blinds shut until everything outside had calmed back down.
When Tramar hung up the phone, he called his boy Jackson. Jackson had basically been his best friend since the two of them had met on the basketball court at a park not too far south of downtown. Along the way, they’d gone to some of the same schools together while other years being bussed to different neighborhoods dependent upon where they were staying at the time.
Jackson was also Tramar’s ear to the street. Not only did he have all of the connects, but he was so much of a recluse that he didn’t have the police breathing down his neck. Thanks to Jackson, Tramar had made quite a bit of money off a stolen car ring. There was also a dog fighting ring in Fort Wayne, Indiana, back when they were teenagers, that made some money. Aside from those sorts of things, the two had also arranged a “tour,” as they called it, where they’d hit licks, or rob houses, in the wealthier suburbs outside of Chicago, and even those in nearby Northwest Indiana. He knew that in times like this – times when he’d messed up his money and was trying to recuperate – his boy Jackson would come through for him in some way. He hated having to ask for help, but he’d rather ask for help then be at the mercy of Precious. Her ironclad fist and advantage in the system was pushing Tramar to his limits.
When It All Falls Down: A Chicago Hood Drama (A Hustler's Lady Book 1) Page 4
