Ghetto Girls 5

by Anthony Whyte

  It seemed like a lifetime before there was knocking on the door. Coco opened and saw the emergency workers. She allowed them entrance.

  “She’s over there, yo,” Coco said, pointing to the sofa where her mother’s body was laid out.

  They quietly walked over to the woman and examined her closely. Then they strapped her to the gurney and spoke to Coco.

  “She’s suffered a cardiac arrest. She had a heart attack,” one of them announced. “Are you related to her?”

  “Yes, my name is Coco Harvey. I’m her daughter, yo.”

  “We’re gonna have to take her to the hospital.”

  “Is she gonna make it, yo?” Coco worriedly asked.

  “What was she doing when it happened?” the emergency technician asked.

  “I don’t know, yo,” Coco said, tears streaming down her face. “When I got in, she was lying on the floor. Is she gonna be alright?”

  “We’ll have to transport her to the hospital. We’ll need you to answer some more questions. You can come with us.”

  Coco walked out of the apartment with the two emergency medical technicians. Her mother’s body strapped to the gurney, they made their way to the elevator.

  “I don’t know if it works, yo.”

  “We took it coming up and what goes up must come down,” the EMT said, smiling sarcastically at Coco.

  The door of the elevator slowly opened. It was a tight squeeze, but they filed inside. Coco held her mother’s hand all the way down. She let go when the EMT’s hoisted the gurney into the back of the emergency vehicle. Coco jumped inside. The wail of the siren announced another change in her life. Helplessly Coco watched time slip away as she regained a hold of her mother’s hand.

  Sitting in the back of the speeding ambulance with an EMT, Coco glanced out of the window. The small crowd in front of the building became blurry and seemed surreal to her tear–stained eyes. Her mother was lying motionless. She could hear still hear Eric Ascot’s voice resonating in her head.

  “I need two female leads for this movie, teenagers like both of you,” he had said, pointing at both her and Deedee. “So basically you’d be playing yourselves. They sould be young, teenage girls with urban background… Just like you two, facing crucial life-changing decisions…”

  9

  It was after 11 pm when they arrived at Harlem Hospital. Her mother was checked into the emergency room and Coco wandered through the visitors’ area. She had called Deedee when the ambulance first arrived at the hospital. The paramedics had rushed her mother to the emergency room for immediate medical attention. Coco waited despite being told that she could go home.

  The paramedics and medical professionals had asked her a whole bunch of questions, and she had tried to answer as accurately as possible. Then after filling out a number of forms and signing some documents, the admission phase was done. Coco made a few phone calls and dozed off in the waiting area.

  It was after midnight when Deedee arrived. Her coiffure and gear were in place, and she strutted to the information area looking like a runway model. She saw Coco reclined in a metal chair. Deedee went over to her friend and the two girls hugged.

  “I wanted to call you back to get the name of the hospital you were at,” Deedee said. “But since she was here before I took a wild guess and just came directly here, “Deedee continued.

  Coco’s furrowed brow spoke volumes and Deedee felt the compassion for her friend. Deedee was aware of the love Coco had for her mother. This situation required tough love and Deedee recognized it.

  “If your mother recovers—”

  “If she recovers…? You mean when she recovers, she’s always doing fucked-up shit like this, yo,” Coco said in an exasperated tone. “She’s been in and out the damn hospital because of fucking crack. I mean they been told her she’s got a weak heart.”

  “Well, when she recovers you’ve got to get her in a program where she can stay for a long time. And I mean a really long time,” Deedee said, extending her hands.

  “Let’s go hang out, maybe have real drink,” Deedee suggested.

  “Ah man, Dee, I don’t know, yo.”

  Coco seemed reluctant at first, but apparently changed her mind when they walk outside the hospital. The night air smacked her sleepy face; she was fully awake.

  “A’ight, yo, where you wanna hang?”

  “Let’s go to your spot and cop—”

  “I got some of that weed left. I haven’t smoked weed since that last time in the hospital…” Coco’s voice trailed. “Josephine crazy-ass and you almost got me kicked out before I was due to be released, yo.”

  “Yeah, I remember. Coco, you think you should be—”

  “Fuck it, yo. A night like this it’s anything goes.”

  “That’s what’s up. Let’s go hang and then we can go back to my place and chill. You don’t wanna go back home alone, do you?”

  “That sounds a lot like a pickup line, yo.”

  “Who says it isn’t,” Deedee answered with a mischievous smile.

  “Don’t be practicing on me, yo.”

  “Who better to practice on…?”

  They got in the car and Coco rolled up before Deedee drove off. Heading south, the BMW purred through the streets of Manhattan. Deedee and Coco were riding high while puffing on a blunt. They were at club Amnesia where the legendary Disco Dave was spinning hot music.

  The dance floor was crowded for a record-industry Tuesday-night party. Coco and Deedee were waved in by security. Floating high from the weed smoke, the girls immediately gravitated to the dance floor. Coco fell in her groove, and soon carved her spot with her moves. A few rounds later she was still sparring with the rhythm. Like a skilled boxer shadow boxing, there was no competition. Coco freely showed her skills dancing as Biggie flowed.

  “I go, on and on and on and

  Don’t take them to the crib unless they bon’in

  Easy, call em on the phone and

  platinum Chanel cologne and

  I stay, dressed, to impress

  Spark these bitches interest

  Sex is all I expect

  If they watch TV in the Lex, they know

  They know, quarter past fo’

  Left the club tipsy, say no mo’

  Except how I’m gettin home, tomorrow…”

  While Coco took center stage with Nasty Girls from the Notorious BIG, Deedee slipped away and returned with refreshments. She came back with drinks, two-stepping and watching Coco in her element. The talented teen was dancing and having fun with other dancers. Suddenly Coco stopped moving, apparently woozy. She staggered off the dance floor and gingerly walked away. Onlookers applauded like it was part of her routine. Drinks in hands, Deedee followed closely behind her.

  “Are you okay, Coco?”

  “I don’t know, yo. I was good then everything just started getting hazy. Felt like I couldn’t see nothing for a minute, yo.”

  “Here’s a drink. You might feel better,” Deedee said, handing Coco a glass.

  “I don’t know, yo. Maybe that weed got me twisted.”

  Coco took the drink and sipped. The music played on. She shook her head around and smiled. Her expression was not one of satisfaction, but more delirium. Deedee watched her closely with concerned enthusiasm.

  “Feel any better?” Deedee asked.

  “I think it’s wearing off, but it’s my eyes, yo.”

  “What’s up with your eyes?”

  “Ever since the surgery, whenever I smoke, I get this feeling like I’m losing my vision and going blind or sump’n. I get hazy and—”

  “It’s the haze we were smoking on the way here,” Deedee giggled. “I feel hazy too like my mind is riding a wave.”

  “That’s not funny, yo,” Coco said, trying not to laugh.

  After thinking about it for a moment, Coco shook her head and said, “You funny Dee. You missed your calling, yo. I know I’m supposed to feel high and wavy, but my sight be getting cloudy too.”

&n
bsp; “You sound like the weather man. Your sight is gonna get cloudy and a few raindrops…”

  Deedee broke out in a giggling fit and Coco had to do everything not to join her. The humor had lightened the mood, but Coco knew she had to eventually see her doctor.

  “He, he, he, very funny, Dee… But not like this. I think I be having temporary blindness and shit, yo.”

  “It might just be your paranoia acting up. You know they say smoking marijuana does that to you.”

  They were conversing when two good-looking thugged-out guys approached the pair. Coco and Deedee were standing close to each other, but the guys purposely bumped into the girls.

  “Pardon me, beautiful,” one of them said to the Deedee.

  “I’m sorry Miss,” the other guy said to Coco.

  “That’s alright, yo,” Coco said, looking at the guy.

  “Y’all ’just watch where y’all going,” Deedee said. “You damn near spilled the drink on me. Da-yum…!”

  “My bad, well my name is—”

  “I really ain’t trying to know your name because I’m not gonna remember it,” Deedee said.

  “You ain’t gotta be acting like a bitch and all!”

  “Oh shit, the truth is out. You walked over here, deliberately bumped into me, and I’m the bitch, huh, scrub?”

  “I can buy you many drinks, the whole fucking bar for that matter!”

  He pulled out a knot and shoved it at Deedee’s face. Then he slowly peeled off some Lincoln’s and threw them at Deedee’s feet.

  “Right… Cheapskate, pick up that small change and keep it moving. Go buy your boy a drink,” Deedee laughed.

  “You’s a fucking bitch!” the other guy joined in.

  “A’ight, yo… We came here to chill. We don’t need to be standing around calling each other bitches,” Coco said, stepping between Deedee and the guys.

  She took Deedee by the arm and was about to walk away when one of the guys said, “Fuck you, dyke bitch!”

  Coco turned around and stepped to the guy. Toe to toe, she was in his face, sizing him up.

  “So that’s the deal, huh, yo? You can’t get no play and I’m a dyke bitch, huh? Well fuck you! You shallow homo-thug!”

  “Who you calling a homo, bitch?”

  Coco reeled back to slap at the guy, but Deedee was able to grab her in time. The small-scale commotion had drawn the ire of the club’s security. A couple of burly bouncers rushed over while Deedee quickly corralled her now irate friend, and dragged her away.

  “Hold up, Dee!” Coco shouted.

  Deedee was able to hold on to the now excited Coco. They headed to the dance floor while the bouncers escorted the thugs toward the exit door.

  “Call me when you off your period…Bitches!” one of the thugs shouted as they girls walked away.

  “Everything all right over here?” a burly bouncer asked, smiling licentiously while gawking at Deedee’s backfield.

  “Yes, we cool, yo. But get them hard-up boys outta here.”

  “They must be feeling on each other,” Deedee laughed, strutting away.

  Indulging in a couple more rounds of alcohol, the teen girls danced together and laughed. Coco and Deedee hung out on the dance floor for a couple more hours, until they were feeling good and exhausted from prancing. The whole incident with the two thugs was way past them.

  “I’m ready to be out, yo.”

  “Yes, I’ve had it too.”

  Before leaving, they hit the ladies room to refresh themselves. Deedee fixed her makeup while Coco disappeared into a stall. Finished with all their bathroom actions, the girls, with a distinct inebriated sway to their steps, made their way out of the club. The bouncers stared at them leaving. Coco caught one smiling at Deedee’s shapely ass.

  “Hmm, ah… Lemme walk you to your ride. You never know what might be out there,” he said.

  “Nah, we good, yo!” Coco snapped.

  “Thanks for looking out, but my ride is not that far. Good night,” Deedee smiled.

  The girls were buzzing and the air was warm but fresh outside. They made their way to the BMW parked on the street near the club. Coco started to slur as she spoke.

  “Why you nice to that nigga? He was busy ogling your ass like he wanted to eat your shit—”

  “Damn Coco why you gotta always have to be so mean…? He can’t help but look at my fine ass,” Deedee said.

  “Niggas ain’t ‘bout shit but ass, yo.”

  Deedee deactivated the remote control and was about to open the doors when they heard the shouting from behind them. The girls tried to quickly jump inside the car, but two thugs were quickly all over them like hungry jackals.

  “Yeah, bitches!”

  “Whassup, dyke?”

  Coco felt the cold steel on the side of her spine. She whirled around and a hard slap to the cheek staggered her. Deedee jumped to her rescue before the young thug could place his Timberland in her rear.

  “Be easy now,” Deedee said.

  “Get in the car bitch!” one of the thugs ordered.

  When Deedee hesitated, he showed her the gun and her jaw dropped. She opened the door and got inside the car, he sat next to her. The other thug shoved Coco into the back seat, holding the gun.

  “Drive bitch!” he ordered. “This a nice fucking ride!”

  “Yeah, now what you gotta say dyke bitch?” the one sitting next to Coco asked.

  She stared at him not answering. He stared back menacingly at her. Deedee drove the car and tried to concentrate on the road amidst all the chaos.

  “You a good-looking dyke,” the one sitting next to Coco said. “And you staring at me like you wanna suck on my dick!”

  He was undoing his jeans and Deedee swerved as if she was out of control. The shotgun was watching her closely.

  “What the fuck you doing, bitch? Wanna get po-po on us or sump’n? Put your seatbelt on and drive safely!”

  The young thug in the back seat with Coco had his jeans undone and pulled his penis out. He pointed the gun at Coco. She shook her head and looked away.

  “Bring them juicy lips over here now, bitch!”

  His friend was in the front seat and was looking back, laughing. The thug in the back put the gun in Coco’s face then he tried pushing her head down onto his dick.

  “Yes, ha, ha,” his friend laughed. “Give that dyke bitch some o’ your lollipop.”

  The back-seat thug was pushing Coco’s head down and although she was resisting, he was stronger and was forcing her down on him showing her the gun. Then there was a loud squeal.

  “Ugh-ah-ah! The bitch bit my dick head!” he screamed.

  Deedee hit the brake and the front passenger fell forward. He lost control and tried to regain his position. There was an explosion and the shotgun suddenly felt a burning sensation in his stomach. Coco knocked the gun from the other thug’s hand and grabbed it. Quickly Deedee pulled to a stop on a deserted corner.

  “Get the fuck outta my car!”

  The passenger didn’t move and Deedee raised her gun to his face. He was staring in disbelief while holding his stomach.

  “Bitch, you shot me?” he asked incredulously.

  Coco was tussling with the back-seat thug as his partner was opening the door to get out. Deedee aimed her gun at him and he froze.

  “Now if you don’t take your stink ass outta my car, I’m gonna unload this shit on you!”

  Under Deedee’s steady gaze, the struggling thug relinquished Coco’s arm and slowly opened the door. He joined his friend who was sitting on the sidewalk holding the gaping hole in his stomach. Fear and surprise registered on their faces when Coco stepped out of the car, and sauntered over to where they sat. She held the gun that previously had her captive. The preys had flipped the script and now held the gun in their hands. They looked armed and extremely dangerous.

  “A’ight, who had that fat wad on them, yo…?” Coco asked, pointing the gun.

  At first neither said anything and Deedee fired a s
hot. The two thugs cowered and seemed to be in fright as Deedee hair-trigger temper exploded.

  “Okay, y’all think we fucking playing?” she asked aiming her weapon at the thugs.

  “Him, him…” the one with the bullet already inside him said. He was bleeding as he continued. “The bitch shot me.”

  Coco was about to reach into the pocket of the thug who was next to her, but he jumped up. Deedee fired twice in his legs, and he fell. Coco rifled through his pockets and lifted the money from him.

  “Oh shit! The bitch shot me too!”

  “What’s wrong, yo?” Coco asked.

  “I gotta get to the hospital. Give ’em the dough before I bleed to death!”

  The girls took all the money and jumped into the car. Deedee aimed the gun at the two thugs and they dove into each other’s arms, hiding.

  “Yes, that’s how I like to see y’all homo thugs,” Deedee laughed.

  “Let’s get the fuck outta here—all them shots gonna attract po-po, yo!”

  Both wounded thugs watched the black car disappeared into the still of the early morning mist, the sounds of music and laughter coming from the interior. Deedee stepped on the accelerator and they were gone.

  “You are crazy, yo Dee!” Coco said laughing.

  “No way another nigga taking shit away from my black ass again,” Deedee said, sharing the humor. “You remember them niggas did that shit before. Uh-huh, that’s not going down anymore.”

  “A’ight yo! I’m feeling you. They was soo fucking wrong, yo,” Coco said, laughing. “I remember that shit, Dee. You were ready for the drama this time.”

  “Yes I was,” Deedee laughed. “It wasn’t going down like that. I was a scared vick that night and got my ass raped! I told myself that shit was never gonna happen to my ass again.”

  “That night created a monster, yo,” Coco said.

  In the dead of night, both girls remained silent for a few beats. The music of Michael Jackson rang out inside the car. Deedee stopped at a light and stared at Coco lighting two cigarettes.

  “You are not alone

  I’m here with you…”

  She handed one of the lit cigarettes to Deedee, and they puffed silently in unison. They were two minds in a place common to only both of them. Over two years ago, Deedee first met Coco and the rest of Da Crew, Danielle and Josephine. It was a night marred by an event they would never forget.