by Joy, E. n.
But still, I had to do something. There was no way I was going to sit back and let my kids starve. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Maybe my neighbor would help. She couldn’t be all that bad. She had stopped giving me dirty looks a little after I moved in. They were replaced with sarcastic smiles and smirks. That was a little better than her evil looks.
“Y’all sit tight,” I told my kids, walking out the door. “I’ll be right back.” I walked down the steps and towards her door. Once there, I knocked.
When she opened the door she didn’t looked surprised to see me on her steps. Still, she asked rudely, “What?”
“Hello. I’m Shortcake, your neighbor.” My voice cracked on each word and my voice was barely above a whisper. I tried to smile though, but it was tight.
“Yeah, I know who you are. You been my neighbor for some years.” She jerked her head and looked across the street at my old house. “You ain’t never felt the need to come to my door before; like you was too good or something. So what brings you to my door now? Decided you wanted to go slumming?”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude or anything. It’s just that I try to keep to myself. You know how it is.” I let out a nervous chuckle but she didn’t see anything funny, so I continued in order to get by the awkward moment. “I was wondering if you had a little sugar I could borrow.” Pride had got the best of me. I couldn’t bring myself to ask for what I really wanted and needed, which was far more than some sugar. I needed some food-to borrow some food stamps until next month if she had any to spare.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Um humph. For what?”
“For. For,” I stammered.
“Girl, don’t play with me. Now we all know you an’ yo’ kids ain’t got no food. We seen your baby daddy, husband or whatever you call him carry it right out of yo’ house and sell it all. You want something to eat for your kids, you betta come more correct than that.”
I cleared my throat. “Can I please have something to eat for…” I could barely get the words out. Even if I could have, she interrupted me with her laughter.
She was cracking up laughing like it wasn’t me she was laughing at dead in my face. “It’s funny seeing yo’ uppity behind begging for scraps from poor, common folk like me.”
I narrowed my eyes confused. “What? No. I never...”
She waved the rest of my words away with the flick of her wrist. “Come in.” She moved to the side to give me entry. I stepped into her kitchen and glanced around. It was identical to mine, but more decorated. “Go on; take a seat,” she offered in her usual unfriendly mannerism. I sat at her glass dinette table.
She got busy at the stove. She had two pots simmering. She pulled out a huge bowl and piled spaghetti with meatballs high in it. My mouth watered just looking at it, and the smell was intoxicating. In another bowl, she scooped some creamed corn. She also laid out half a loaf of bread. It was almost the exact meal I was making for Joshua the day I ran into her at the grocery store. Funny-I remember piling ground beef, spaghetti sauce, noodles, French bread, canned cream corn and a block of parmesan cheese I planned on grating over the spaghetti, in my cart along with all the ingredients to make a red velvet cake. I didn’t care how much it would cost. I smiled sadly remembering that day Joshua and I sat at the table eating. He had eaten three plates of spaghetti. I shook my head at myself and turned my attention back on my neighbor.
“Here,” she snapped.
Before I could grab the bowls of food, she grabbed my hand and looked me squarely in my eyes. “Now you one of us, you hear?”
I nodded, though I was confused. But to get those bowls of food, I would have agreed with anything she said, true or not.
She smirked. “You don’t even know what I mean. You a struggler with kids, which means this...” She placed the left index finger of her free hand in the air. “Ain’t nothing off limits when it comes to feeding yours.” She gestured towards her brood who were all sitting in the living room of her home watching television. I was glad I only had two. “Some of the things you gonna have to do are stealing, lying, and sexing. ‘Cause you can’t borrow food forever.”
“No, I couldn’t.” I shook my head at the thought of ever having to trade sex for needs. God would provide, the same way He’d softened her heart just enough to help me out this time, He’d be there any other time I was in need. I had to believe that.
“You don’t believe me, huh?” She snickered. “Girl, either you dumb or just naïve. Maybe even both. But anyway, the track−”
“Track?” I twisted my face up in confusion.
“Yes, the track-where young girls and women go to make money-is on Figueroa. The best time to make money is between three-thirty and six-thirty in the morning. And believe it or not, it’s best to go on the weekdays as opposed to the weekends. Too much of a risk getting caught by the Po-Po if you go on the weekend. You pretty, so you ain’t gonna have no problems out there at all. You might even land a pimp.”
I wasn’t going to no doggone track! “Thanks for the food but−”
“Whatever. I’m just letting you know, holier than thou,” she mocked. “But when this runs out and your babies start crying...” She shook her head as if reliving something. “I’ll give you three days. You’ll be out there. You ain’t gon’ let them kids go hungry and you can forget about the food pantry. As bad as the economy has been, the neighborhood food panty only give out food toward the end of the month now-when they think everybody done used up all they stamps. So you got some days to wait for that. So you gon’ have to do something in the meantime. And you know what they say; in the meantime can be a mean time.” She let out her infamous cackle.
“Thanks for the food,” I said graciously. “I’ll pay you back.”
“Whatever.” She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.
I grabbed the bowls. “I’ll wash your dishes and have one of my kids bring them back,” I said. But she had already walked away from where I was standing.
Chapter Four
Although I prayed and prayed about my predicament, things never seemed to get any better. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would end up in this situation, and it killed me. It had me so stressed that I had broke out with a nerve rash and couldn’t sleep. I felt horrible for what I had to bring myself to do. As it turns out, the track is exactly where I had to go, and sooner than my neighbor thought. It was just a few days later, after the spaghetti was popped out of us. Jo Jo had a headache and Tricie was whining about her stomach hurting. My babies were hungry. I chalked off not having had a single crumb in the last twenty-four hours as fasting. But my kids were just plain ol’ hungry.
“Drink some water,” I snapped out of exasperation while pacing back and forth in the kitchen. All I had was some dirty cooking oil. Nothing to give them. What did they want from me? Then I wanted to punch my own self. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t my kids’ fault I didn’t have food. So I took a deep breath and pulled out a pair of tight jeans, a flattering top and some heels. I put on a little lipstick and mascara, styled my hair, and told the kids, “I’ll be back. Y’all stay put.”
I walked out there, into the street and made my way to the track. I was honked at every step of the way. The entire time walking there, and even when I first decided to do this in the first place, I’d think of other options, but the devil was always there to shoot them down and convince me that that track was my only choice. I thought about going out and getting a job at a fast food place or something, but then the devil was right there to tell me that my kids would die of starvation by the time I got a paycheck. He also told me that if I did get a nine to five, the government assistance would end and there was no way I’d be able to live off minimum wage. By the time the devil and I finished our back and forth, I was convinced that the Track was my only option.
All up and down the street were young girls. How in the world was I gonna get someone to pay attention to me enough to make a couple dollars to feed my kids whe
n I was competing with teenagers?
I stood against a wall and watched as cars pulled up. My heart was pounding rapidly, and I prayed no one I knew would see me out here. At least three times I had contemplated going home. Then I thought about my kids. I wiped my tear-soaked face, trying to keep my lipstick in tact. The men that passed by mostly gravitated to girls who looked only a little older than my little Jo Jo. I wanted to cry, not just ’cause I had lowered myself to this and was out there, but because the other girls were so young. Since my husband had been a ghost there was no way I could confront him. And if I did? What difference would it make? It’s not like he could or would do something about the fact that our kids had no food. He would probably just slap the mess out of me for even questioning him even though he was wrong.
“Aye, baby. Redbone, you wit it?”
My head snapped to the man trying to drive while, at the same time, leaning out the passenger side of his car and barking at me.
Initially my feet froze, and I was asking myself what the heck I called myself doing out there. I was about to have full blown intercourse with a man. I’d never done that with anybody except my husband. There was no way I could bring myself to sleep with another man. How could I look in the mirror again? How could I step foot in a church again? What if he was a married man? What if he gave me something? No. I couldn’t do this. I tossed a hand at him and turned to walk away.
“Come on, baby. I’m nice.”
I shook my head with my back still turned. That’s when Jo Jo and Tricie flashed before me. I was their mother, and despite how much I didn’t want to do this, I had to feed them. It was my fault, not their fault that we were in this situation anyway. I could easily place all of the blame on their sorry father. But then I was just as sorry for picking him to be their father. God would have to forgive me for this; He would have to.
Despite telling myself this, my shoulders shook and a couple sobs escaped me. Never in a million years would I have thought that Joshua and I would be to this point. Dear Lord, again I ask you, what have I got myself into? I took a deep breath, wiped the tears away quickly, put on a tight smile and turned to face the man.
There he sat waiting for me with a wicked, hungry grin on his face. I approached the car.
“Hey, baby.” He licked his lips at me. “How much?”
I had no set price. I didn’t know what was too much or not enough for my worth. “Ahh, what do you want?”
“Do you go down?”
I almost gagged at the thought of doing something so intimate with a stranger. I had no idea at the time this would become a regular act I’d have to perform on my landlord to keep from getting evicted. So I hesitated.
“Well, do you?”
Slowly, I nodded.
“Well, come on and get in.”
I forced my feet to lift off the pavement and took steps towards the car. Once there, I opened the passenger door and sat inside. Once I was in and comfortable, he proceeded to drive away. We ended up in a dark, deserted alley.
“I don’t play no games, baby. Here is the money upfront.” He handed me a fifty.
I stared down at the fifty-dollar bill in my hand, still debating giving it back to him and getting out of his car, even though I knew I had to do this. I felt so stuck and so utterly conflicted. I shoved it in my bra with shaking fingers.
“Now let’s get to work.” He unbuckled his belt and the button on his slacks. After pulling down the zipper he slid his pants down.
I took a deep breath and opened my mouth. I bent over and paused when he started laughing loud. Alarmed, I looked up and asked, “What’s wrong?”
He had his head thrown back and everything he was laughing so hard. Once he finally settled down, he looked at me and shook his head. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that you don’t seem like the type of woman you’d pick up on a corner.”
“It’s because I’m not. Tough times call for tough measures.”
“Oh yeah? And what measures are those?”
“I need to feed my kids. Plain and simple.” Part of me hoped he would show some sympathy, pass me yet another fifty and just let me go tend to my babies.
He greeted me with silence. Maybe he was thinking the same thing.
When he took a hand and shoved my head towards his crotch, I realized he wasn’t going to let me slide.
The dude offered me a ride when I was done, but I declined. I walked back to the house and cried the entire way. On the way home I stopped at Jack in the Box. Maybe the fact that I would be able to send my kids to bed with full bellies would override the feeling of guilt and shame I was towing around. I rubbed my tear-soaked face dry, went inside and ordered four junior bacon cheeseburgers and two orders of their ninety-nine cents tacos. Those two items were the cheapest they had on their menu. Once my order was done, I high tailed it to my apartment, hoping my kids would still be up so that they could put something in their stomachs.
When I got there, I was surprised to see my neighbor, the one that had given me the spaghetti. I jumped at her image sitting on her steps puffing on a cigarette. Would I take up her habit next out of stress?
Feeling as though where I’d been and what I’d done was stamped on my forehead, I dropped my head and rushed past her to unlock my door. I paused when I heard her voice.
Instead of her laughing at me or saying ‘Um humph; I told you so,’ all she said was, “It’s always hard the first time. Prayer helps though. Believe it or not, I think that God pays more attention to the sinner’s prayers than the saint’s.”
I nodded then went back to unlocking my door. And sure enough my kids were up.
“Mama!” It was Tricie. She bum rushed me with a hug. “Where were you at? We were worried something had happened to you.”
I kissed her forehead. “Ain’t nothing happened, baby. I went to get y’all hungry butts something to eat. Come in this kitchen and don’t eat it real fast either.”
I pulled out two plates. I had no appetite. “Where’s your brother?” I asked as I sat a plate in front of her. The other plate I sat across from her. I grabbed the bag and sat a burger and a taco on her plate and a burger and a taco on Jo Jo’s . The other burger and tacos they could have for breakfast.
“I’m right here, Mama.” He sat down in the chair across from his sister.
I knew Jo Jo wasn’t going to be inquisitive like his little sister. Maybe he didn’t have to because the look on his face told me he knew exactly how I had got the food. Part of me prayed that he didn’t, that he was just as naïve as his little sister.
“Eat,” I ordered. Tricie tore into her taco like it was lobster and butter. Jo Jo shook his head and tapped a finger on the table. “Boy, I said eat.”
“I’m not hungry, Mama.” His voice was surprisingly sharp.
I gave him a crazy look, my heart pounding. “What?”
“I said, I’m not hungry.”
“Boy, you better eat this food,” I snapped. “Do you know what I had to-?” I immediately cut my own words off.
“Do I know what, Mama?”
My heart sped up. I put a shaking hand to my forehead. “Nothing. You can eat it in the morning.” I turned to walk away.
“Naw, Mama.” I stopped and turned back around to face him.” Thank you for the food.” His tone softened. He was back to the little boy I knew and loved. He unwrapped his burger. “I’ll eat it now.”
I took a deep breath and smiled, trying my hardest not to let my tears drop. Regardless of what I had done in the past two hours, I had food to feed my kids. That’s what was important. I was going to take the remainder of the fifty dollars, and buy some food from the grocery store that would last us. My list would include plenty of Top Ramen, potatoes, rice, and bologna. We were going to have to use the sales paper we got in the mail to wipe our butts once the handful of napkins I grabbed from Jack in the Box ran out. Their bellies were more important.
The kids cleaned up and they went to bed much happier than they had the day before
. Once I heard their loud snoring, I turned out the lights and dropped down on my knees.
“Heavenly Father, have mercy on me, a sinner. I believe in you and that your Word is true. I believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of the living God and that He died on the cross so that I may now have forgiveness for my sins and eternal life. I know that without you in my heart my life is meaningless. I believe in my heart that you, Lord God, raised Jesus from the dead. Please, Jesus, forgive me for what I did tonight. Lord, please know that I am pure in serving you, but I felt like there was no other way to take care of my kids. I give you my life and ask you to protect me, my kids and my husband. I pray this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”
My neighbor, who I now knew by name as Valerie, hipped me to something else. “Sometimes you can get at Mr. Baker. That lily white pervert loves him some chocolate,” she told me while I sat on the steps next to her. “Girl, around Christmas time I couldn’t bear to see my kids without at least one gift, but my pockets were empty. And here that old fart comes sniffing around me. So I took some of my rent money and bought them all one gift a piece at Big Lots.”
“Well, what happened?” I questioned.
“I’m getting to that,” she snapped, pursing her lips afterwards. “I was gonna make up for it out on the track, but during that time, a prostitute had just got killed.”
