The People vs. Cashmere

by Karen P. Williams

  I crossed my arms underneath my chest. “Check this out, whatever your name is. I’m young but, homie, I’m not dumb. Why in the hell would you want me, the girl that just the other day had her young, damn-near-naked ass all up in your face, to sit and keep you company?”

  He gripped his chin in his hand, trying not to blush at what I just said. “ ’Cause I never wanted you out of my face. I looked for you after you rushed out that night, and, Cashmere, it has nothing to do with sex, I swear.”

  I smiled at that but, just as quickly, put my game face back on by frowning. “How you know my name?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Caesar chuckled, keeping his eyes on mine. “Because you told me your name that night.”

  Humph.

  Most niggas forgot my name the moment I dropped my clothes. I was called everything from bitch, ho, trick, wifey, baby, boo, even Glennisha, Shaquida, Diana, Maria, Kimberly, Becky, but never ever by my name. Even if I danced for a dude on more than one occasion, which I have, it never failed; they always forgot my damn name.

  Since I had given this dude such a hard time, I cracked a small smile at him ’cause the look in his eyes was different when he looked at me. Why was his different? Maybe he didn’t see me like I feared he would, like a cheap stripper, or worse, a ho. Maybe he saw me like I was just a regular person.

  “So that’s what you chased me down the street for?—No. Thank you for chasing me down the street.” My smile grew longer and seemed to make him smile too. My eyes locked with his, and I couldn’t, for some reason, drop them.

  “You’re welcome. I also came to give you this, for the inconvenience, free of charge and obligation. I mean that.” He handed me the bag he was carrying.

  Inside it had a huge slice of strawberry shortcake and a piece of pound cake. I laughed. I turned to go but noticed he made no moves to walk away, so I paused and looked back at him.

  “Can I walk you back home? I mean, if you feel comfortable with it, just to make sure you make it there safely.”

  “Are you propositioning me now?”

  “No.”

  “You telling me the truth?” I kept my gaze on his, one hand on my hip.

  He shoved his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans. “Yes.”

  I nodded. “Then come on.”

  After a small moment of silence, he asked,” Do you come to the restaurant a lot?”

  “Not too often. Just when I have a sweet tooth. And, come to think of it, I never saw you there before.”

  “My parents just bought the place a couple weeks ago. It’s a little project I’m taking on. I made a bet with my mom that if I can run the café successfully and stay within the budget, I could pick what college I attend.”

  “Damn! Y’all got money to burn like that?”

  “It ain’t mine, girl.”

  I laughed. He had a very proper voice and speech, like he wasn’t from around here, and it sounded cute when slang slipped out of his mouth.

  “How about you? What does your family do?”

  I stiffened. “I don’t live with my mom and dad. I stay with my aunt. I know my uncle don’t do shit, and all my aunt does is cook.”

  “At a restaurant.”

  “No. So the bitch can eat.”

  He laughed hard as hell when I said that. Maybe he thought I was playing.

  Chapter 10

  The next day my Uncle Byron cornered me. So much for thinking that he would cut me some damn slack. I was in the kitchen making myself a bowl of cereal. I felt something hit me in my ass then heard it fall to the floor. I looked down and saw a crumpled dollar bill then some size ten Velcro tennis shoes. I turned my back on him like he wasn’t shit and poured the milk in my bowl and sat the milk down on the counter.

  “Shake it.”

  I spooned a spoonful in my mouth and chewed on my corn flakes but I had a hard time swallowing them when he stood behind me so close that his pot-gut and dick were rubbing up against me.

  I took a deep breath and tried to slide past him. He wasn’t having it. He blocked me between the sink and the fridge. Before I could protest he was sliding his finger up and down the crack of my ass.

  “You like that, baby?” He had his hands on both sides of my face on the wall blocking me in. His tongue licked my ear lobe.

  I sighed wanting to throw up. But I knew I was overpowered so I had to play it cool.

  I yelled my sister’s name as loud as I could, then my aunt’s.

  “They ain’t here.”

  My heart started to beat faster.

  He grabbed one of my titties. “You like this, huh? Ain’t this what you was getting paid to do at the strip joint?”

  “No, you ugly muthafucka!”

  He placed a hand over my mouth, muffling my words, and continued talking while gripping both my hands in his free hand. “If wish I had known that this is all it would take to get that young, hot pussy of yours, Cash Money,” he drawled.

  I struggled against him and turned around to face him. He allowed me to and removed his hands from my mouth.

  “Please get off of me.”

  “Hell no, I paid for this.”

  I spit the chewed-up corn flake in his face.

  That pissed him off. He grabbed me and slammed my back into the fridge. I whimpered and felt tears shoot from my eyes at the pain, but I ignored it and struggled against him. He wouldn’t budge. He pulled my tank top up and started licking on my nipples.

  I started crying loudly and trying to free myself, but it didn’t help.

  He pulled down my shorts and jabbed a finger in my pussy then he licked it. “Sweet, like I thought. I usually don’t eat pussy, but, Cashmere, I’ll tell you what. I’ll eat yours, if you suck on my dick.”

  “No, please, uncle.”

  He kneeled down to completely free me of my underwear. Once he was on his knees, he left his face all open to me, so with the quickness, I took one foot and stomped that nigga directly in his face so hard, he fell backwards. Then I took off running out that muthafucka half-naked. I slipped out the house, jumped off the porch steps, and kept on running and crying, screaming at what my uncle just tried to do to me, yet so happy I got away.

  I stopped running and straightened my clothes. I wish I knew where Desiree was. I kept walking until I made it to the café. Now was as good a time as any to chew on something sweet. I glanced in the windows and saw Caesar behind the counter. It was still early out, which probably explained why there was nobody in there. I opened the door and slipped in.

  Caesar smiled when he saw me, and I managed one also.

  I took the rag that was next to some silverware on the counter and started shining a fork.

  “What’s got you up so early, Cashmere?”

  That mess that went down with my uncle flashed before my eyes. My eyes watered, so I blinked rapidly to stop them. And my hand started shaking so much, I dropped the fork on a plate.

  “You okay?”

  I blinked my eyes again, looked up, and noticed that Caesar had abandoned the stuff he was putting away to sit next to me on a stool. He had a hand on my shoulder and another on my cheek. His eyes looked so damn concerned. I hadn’t seen concern like that since Daddy. And without much thought, like a dumb ass, I buried my head in his shoulder and let out months of pent-up frustration and pain. And he just held me.

  I didn’t want to go home until I was sure that Desiree or Aunt Ruby was there, to be safe from my nasty-ass uncle, so I stayed at the café with Caesar.

  I learned a lot more about him. He attended private school, which explained why I had never seen him prior to the club, and was getting ready to graduate high school and go out of state to a good college called Grambling. I told him my goal was to graduate from high school and go to cosmetology school. He really was a nice guy, the kind of guy I was sure Daddy would have loved for me to date. He was nothing like the trashy guys me and Desiree shook our ass for, not at all.

  It wasn’t long after that he asked
me to be his girl, and I accepted.

  My monthly visits to the Sweet Tooth Café turned into weekly, then, any chance I could spare, which with school, stripping, and dealing wasn’t easy. The only thing I never negotiated my time with was my Sunday visits with Desiree to see Daddy. We always stayed there until midnight. It had been a tradition since he came to Pine Meadows.

  When I was home I would find any excuse to go to the café and to see Caesar. Sometimes I would offer to get my auntie something sweet, and she would say, “Are you paying?”

  And I would say, “Sure, no problem, Auntie. It’s for everything you do around here.”

  She would look at me for a moment like, and it was almost as if her face was going to soften up and she was going to say something nice to me. But all she’d mumble was, “You ain’t as bad as your sister, but I still don’t like you.”

  I would always nod and race off to the café. Then I would spit in whatever I was giving her and watch her eat the shit with relish. She never said thank you either.

  Caesar was cool. He would walk me home and hold my hand like a real boyfriend, the calm after the storm, I called it, after having to do the shit I did. He was my salvation, I guess. Daddy used that expression a lot to describe Mama. But, boy, was he off.

  Chapter 11

  “Fucking Cash! Your ass needs to focus.” I sucked my teeth at Desiree. “I am.”

  “No, you not.” She gestured toward the street. “Did you see that damn man make eye contact? No. We need to get rid of this shit.”

  I pursed my lips and rubbed my arms to ward off the night chills I had. “You said that crap last week,” I told her. “I don’t wanna sell this shit no more.”

  “Well, I don’t neither, so there, dammit!”

  “Whatever.”

  “You know stripping gigs been slow. What else we gonna do?”

  I shrugged.

  Caesar said he would talk to his dad about offering me a job at the café. It wouldn’t be much, but it was something. And since I was under the legal age to work, he said he would pay me under the table. But the last time I brought it up to Desiree, she laughed.

  “He lying. He just want your pussy, girl. If he want it that bad, then give it to him, but he ain’t gonna give you, a stripper, a job in that damn café.”

  I started to believe her and didn’t want to call his bluff and get my feelings hurt. And even if he was bullshitting about offering me a job, I still wanted to be around him ’cause it felt genuine, even if it wasn’t. I didn’t want to not have the café to go to, or Caesar to go to.

  “And please don’t bring up that fool you in love with. He full of shit. He ain’t offering you shit, but some dick. You just too dumb to see it, Cash.”

  “Yeah, well, fuck you!” Tears started coming out of my eyes.

  She laughed and tried to hug me. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

  “Get off of me, trick!”

  “Trick? She busted up laughing and released me. “Face it, we strippers. Ain’t no decent man going to ever want us, and that’s the bottom line.”

  “Caesar want me—”

  “Oh Lord. You know what, Cash? Fuck Caesar! He ain’t paying Daddy’s rent or rent to our aunt, now is he?”

  “But he offers me money all the time.”

  She stared at me for a long time before shaking her head and rubbing her hands together. “It comes at a price, Cashmere. Don’t you get it?”

  She kept babbling, but my eyes slipped away from her as three niggas came out of nowhere and were coming toward us, walking at a brisk pace, the tallest one fumbling in his pockets.

  “Desiree, run!” I took off, and she trailed behind me, confused at first, but smart enough to follow my lead, and screaming like a damn fool.

  “Stop, bitches, and give us your shit!”

  I was too scared to look behind me, but I heard the slamming of their feet on the pavement. They were on our heels. As we turned the corner, I could hear popping sounds like a firecracker and I saw smoke.

  Desiree yelled, “Oh my God, Cash, they shooting at us!”

  That’s when I felt it—Something plunged into me, and a sharp ass pain in my shoulder. Then I fell to the ground, and blood squirted out of me. I closed my eyes, as an ache I had never felt before spread through me.

  “Please don’t kill me,” Desiree pleaded, hovering her body over mine.

  The three dudes surrounded us and bum-rushed De-siree, knocking her to the ground beside me.

  “Bitch, like we said, give us y’all shit,” one of them demanded.

  Another one said, “She the carrier, man, the one screaming.”

  The guy with the gun pointed it at Desiree. “Give it up!”

  “Okay! Okay! Just don’t kill me, in the name of Jesus.” She fumbled in her pocket and tossed the paper bag their way.

  One of them kicked us both. “Next time, don’t play.”

  Then they ran off into the night.

  “Muthafuckas, you didn’t have to shoot my sister! Oh my God, my sister gone. You muthafuckas, why the fuck did you do this shit?”

  I almost laughed when she tossed her fist at the air. I was in a whole lot of pain, but I damn sure wasn’t dead. I thanked God for that. “Desiree.”

  She wasn’t listening. Instead she pulled my upper body on her and rocked me back and forth.

  “Oh Lord, my sister dead. Why me? Why my sister, Lord, why?” She was breathing in pants through her nose as she talked.

  Then it occurred to me that I still had some shit on me, and the commotion she was causing could alert the cops to us. “Desiree, will you shut the fuck up!” I whispered. “I’m not dead.”

  She froze, placed a hand over my heart, then hugged me tight and said, “Praise God.”

  “Shut up! Your ass falls asleep in church.” I winced in pain as blood continued to ooze from my shoulder. “Now you calling on God.”

  “Come on, little sister. I thought I lost you there. Let’s get you seen at the hospital.”

  It turned out that it was just a flesh wound, because the bullet grazed my ass, but it was more than enough for me to make plans to step out of the dope game for good.

  Chapter 12

  My retiring from the dope game pissed Desiree off, but hell, she had a lot of nerve. I could have been killed. I’d always have the bruise in my shoulder to remind me that wasn’t shit good about fast money. Or maybe it was karma, plain and simple, because what we were doing was wrong.

  I buried my pride and the doubts she put in my head as I walked to the café.

  “You stupid,” she yelled behind me. “He don’t want you! Girl, he wants some ass, so be prepared to give that shit up.”

  I flipped her the bird and kept on going. Once I reached the café, I took a deep breath. Before Caesar could get out a hello, I said to him, “Look, I need a job. And since you suppose to be my man, and since a while back you offered I need you to offer to hire me again ’cause I don’t like asking people for a damn thing.”

  I was holding my breath the whole time and didn’t release it until he laughed, hugged me, and whispered in my ear, “Now I get to see my girl more. Cool.”

  And it was cool from there. I came in after school, and on the weekends when me and Desiree weren’t doing stripping gigs. And I loved it, getting paid to spend time with my boyfriend. But don’t get me wrong, Caesar worked the hell out of me. I worked the cash register, stocked the inventory, washed dishes, and cleaned the store up at closing time and all. And he always watched me hustle with a smile on his face and a wink at me. Sometimes he would pull me back in the storage for a kiss or pat my behind, and it would make me tingle inside.

  I didn’t make as much as I wanted, but I managed to pull almost even with what he paid me, my tips, and the extra dough Caesar gave me just because I was his girl. The shortage I did have, Desiree, talking a lot of shit, had to cover.

  Caesar even showed me how to make some of the dishes. He said, “One at a time,” so we started with the po
und cake. It was early one Saturday morning, and we were in the kitchen. He held a spoon in his hand and asked me with his eyes wide. “Now are you sure I can trust you, Cash? ’Cause this is a family recipe, and my nana would kill me if she knew I was sharing it, even if I’m sharing it with my girl.”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “Aye, girl, this ain’t a joke.” He pointed the big spoon at me.

  I pulled my lips in to keep from laughing and leaned against the countertop. “Sorry.”

  He tapped me on my butt with the spoon.

  “Ouch.” I whined, pretending it hurt.

  “Oh. I’m sorry, baby.”

  He kissed the spot on my butt where he hit me, making me tingle, but I acted like it was nothing, like on a regular basis fine-ass men kissed me on my butt.

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” I said.

  He sat the spoon down. “Okay, now get that right hand up, girl.” I sighed and raised my hand as he instructed. He crossed his arms over his sweater.

  “Now repeat after me. I, Cashmere Pierce.”

  “I, Cashmere Pierce.”

  “Do solemnly swear.”

  “Do solemnly swear.”

  “That I will never ever ever ever ever ever.”

  “That I will never ever ever ever ever ever.”

  “Ever!”

  “Ever.”

  I held in my laugh.

  “Will repeat any recipe I learned in Sweet Tooth Café.”

  “Will repeat any recipe I learned in Sweet Tooth Café.”

  He turned serious. “You being honest with me, Cashmere?”

  “I’m always honest with you, Caesar, just like you honest with me. Aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  He bit his bottom lip. “But can you keep a promise?”

  I nodded. “I’m taking this to the grave, I promise, Caesar. And I’m gonna always keep my promises to you.”

  He scooted closer to me and hugged me. Then he packed my face with kiss after kiss.

  Even though I didn’t want him to stop, I pushed him away. “Okay. Come on, Caesar, we gotta get this stuff baked.”