by T. Styles
BAMBI
I wake up to extreme pain. When I open my eyes I’m still in my car. My head feels heavy and loopy. The sky has turned dark purple and the stars are out. My jeans are down at my thighs along with my white silk panties. I feel a piercing pain between my legs again, and I wonder what it is. When I look down I see a man wearing a filthy tan trench coat. His face is stuffed between my thighs. The smell rising off of his body resembles dry piss, and dirty skin. I’m about to yell, but my mind immediately goes into survival mode.
The pain is the worst I’d ever experienced. And, I say that despite the gunshot wound in my hand, and the things I experienced in Saudi Arabia. A bum is nibbling on my clit so hard, that it feels like he’s slicing into it with his teeth. I don’t want him to know I’m awake, because I don’t know if he has a weapon or not. I have to be easy before I make my next move.
At a snail’s pace I reach down to grab my gun in the driver’s side door. Just as I feel his dry tongue slither into my pussy hole, I grip my gun. With the handle firmly in my palm, I raise it, press it down to the back of his head and pull the trigger. Red jelly-like substance splashes on my face, windows and dashboard. I wipe it away from my mouth and eyes. I hope he doesn’t have AIDS. The smell of blood and gunfire reminds me of the worst times in my life.
I haven’t killed a man in over seventeen years. I’m breathing so hard now, I’m shivering. What the fuck is happening to me? Why did this person come into my car, and violate my body?
I push his limp body out of my lap and into the passenger seat. From what’s left of his face, I can see he’s about forty years old. He’s black. And, now he’s dead. I guess he won’t be raping another person anytime in the near future.
I continued to wipe his guts out of my eyes so I can see better. I can’t believe this shit just happened to me. I guess the four Vicodin pills mixed with the beer I drank put me in a deep sleep. And, because of it I let my guard down.
I look around to see if anyone is looking in my direction. Or if they witnessed the crime I just committed. But, everything looks vacant out here, which is probably why he chose to rape me. I don’t even know how I got here.
I pull up my jeans and pull down my shirt and look in the backseat of my ride for my purse. I notice immediately that it’s gone. My heartbeat kicks up speed. I can’t believe I was so high that I wasn’t aware of my surroundings. I need to be careful, because if I would’ve waited a little bit longer it could’ve been me dead instead of him.
I take a deep breath and try to get my mind right. What am I going to do, to get myself out of the situation? If I call the cops, they might investigate me, and possibly want to talk to my husband. Kevin’s absence might bring attention to where he was, and who we are. I can’t go home, and I can’t get the police involved. I need that money first.
Using the phone in my car I call Denim on her cell phone. It rings twice before she answers. “Denim, I need you and the girls to meet me at the H motel.” I reach across the corpse, open the door and push his body out.
“Which one?”
“The one off of New York Avenue. This is important so you gotta come now.” I close the door and pull out of the parking space.
“I’ll let the girls know,” Denim says. “Are you okay?”
“Just hurry up. I’ll explain everything later.”
DENIM
The first thing I feel when I walk into Bambi’s motel room is the heat. I’m the first person to see her condition. Her clothes are covered in dry blood, and her hair is snatched back into a messy ponytail. At first I was worried that the blood belonged to her, and that she had possibly been in an accident, until I see the gun sitting on the table in the room.
Once we’re all inside, Scarlett latches the door to make sure it’s locked. I hate that bitch. Every time I see her it’s hard not to think about Jasmine, and what I know she did to her in that bathroom. Jasmine is with Bambi’s mother so at least she won’t have to see her face right now.
“Thanks for coming, ya’ll.” Bambi walks toward us. “I been beating myself up ever since that shit happened tonight.”
“Can you start by telling us what’s going on?” I ask her walking up to her. The moment I’m within her breathing space I can tell she’s been drinking.
“I killed a man,” Bambi says pacing. “He was in my lap, and I blew his fucking brains out.” She stops and looks at all of us. The way she gives us the news sounds regular, and I wonder how many people she has killed before. “And if I could do it again on my mother’s life I would.”
Scarlett approaches her. “Bambi, I am so happy you are alive. If we would have lost you I think I would’ve lost my mind.” She places a hand on Bambi’s shoulder. “Can you tell us what he did to you?” She asks looking over her body.
I know we here for our girl, but just the sound of Scarlett’s voice does something evil to me.
“He raped me,” Bambi says holding her head down. “And, I said nobody would ever take anything from me again.” She looks at Scarlett. “The nigga didn’t get the memo so he paid for it with his life. He actually…he actually…oh my God!”
I have so many questions, but I don’t know where to start. First I want to know what she meant by saying that no one would ever take anything else from her. Secondly, I want to know who violated her tonight.
“Bambi, what are you talking about?” I ask softly. “When you say he was in your lap?”
“I was in my car sleep,” she says sitting down in the chair at the table. “I guess I was tired after being heart broken by Kevin once again,” she pauses and looks as if she wants to cry. “Anyway my mind was heavy and I dosed off in my car. When I woke up, some nigga was in between my legs chewing on my pussy.”
We all frown. I don’t know what disturbs me most, some strange man touching her, or chewing on her pussy.
Although we were all probably taken at her response, Race was the loudest. “Yuck,” she screams. “What do you mean he chewed on your pussy? And are you okay?” She looks in the direction of her crouch.
“I’m still sore, but I’m alive,” Bambi responds. “The shit was a nightmare.”
“Bambi,” I say, “something doesn’t make sense. How was he able to get to your lap? It’s like you’re missing a step.”
She sighs and rolls her eyes at me. I know right away I’m on to something. “My hand was in pain so I went to my doctor’s. He gave me a prescription, and I took a few Vicodin and drank a beer. I must’ve dosed off because when I came to, he was in my car.”
“So your car door was open?” I continue. “That’s what you’re saying to me?”
“Yes, Denim. I’m saying that I made a mistake.”
“Bambi, you drive a fucking Rolls Royce! What is wrong with you? You better be glad you still alive. You could’ve gotten car jacked! The shit you been doing lately is dangerous,” I yell. “The blackouts, the drinking…all of this shit has gone on too far.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know, Denim,” she responds.
“Do you realize that it’s Thursday? And, that we have a meeting with the Russians on Saturday? We can’t have you running around doing dumb shit when we days away from completing something you started.”
She stands up and approaches me. The look in her eyes is deadly. We all had our opinion about what happened to Bambi in that war. Race and I said she might have been raped. Scarlett said she might have seen senseless violence. But, none of us knew for sure. Yet here I am standing in front of her, scared for my life. I have no doubt that if I pushed too hard, she could hurt me too.
“What the fuck do you mean running around doing dumb shit,” she asks. “Denim, I’m having the worst week of my life—,”
“And we are too,” I yell cutting her off. “You aren’t the only mothafucka who lost a husband this week, girlie. We all have,” I continue. “I want to cry so badly my chest aches from holding it back all the time. But, just like you told us the other day I’m telling you the same
thing. You must toughen the fuck up. Be glad that the only thing he chewed was your pussy. He could’ve taken your life too.”
“How could you say something so callous to me?”
“Callous?” I scream. “There’s nothing callous about the shit I’m saying to you. I’m speaking the truth. My husband is dead, your husband is dead, all of our husbands are fucking dead! That’s our reality,” I say out of breath. “But, there’s still work to be done, and there will be plenty time for crying. Right now you have to toughen up, and you have to do it now.”
Bambi laughs at me. “Toughen up? Bitch, I lost my husband, was shot in my hand, and found out that Kevin had another child outside of our marriage. And, you know what, I’m still breathing. So name a bitch who’s tougher than me right now. I want to meet her!”
We all gasp upon the news of the baby.
“Baby,” I say in a soft voice. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Kevin—”
“How could you?” Bambi turns to walk away. “I didn’t know about his son either.”
She sits on the bed, and drops her head. I want to hold her, but Bambi’s actions can be sporadic and violent if touched suddenly. “He had a little boy,” she continues shaking her head. “And, he was so handsome that I knew it was his son the moment I saw his face. I knew he was Kevin’s son before she even told me.”
Scarlett walks up to the bed and sits next to her. “Bambi, this is fucked up.” She looks up at Race and me, but I look away. “I don’t know what the fuck was on Kevin’s mind, to step out on you, but he’s dirty as shit for this move,” Scarlett continues. “I don’t think any of us are dumb enough to think that every now and again, the boys wouldn’t step out. To be honest, that’s the nature of the beast.”
“The nature of the beast?” I yell at Scarlett. “That’s you white girls’ problem today. And, then they say black bitches yell too much. You accept too much shit from these niggas, and make it easy for them not to face the music. A dog is a dog. A cheat is a cheat and a bum is a bum. And, if any of us accept disloyalty something is wrong with us not them.”
“I’m not white and I agree with, Scarlett,” Race replies. “We all know our men cheat. I think the difference is we get mad at them when they don’t do a good job of hiding it. The white girls just accept it and move on. That’s just my opinion.”
“So you saying Bradley cheated on me too?” I ask Race.
“I’m saying you’re not immune to the deeds of a nigga with money and power,” Race replies. “Yes we are wifed up. Yes we were given the ring, but at the end of the day they held all of the power.”
“Not anymore,” Bambi says to us. “Not anymore.”
Race walks up to Bambi, drops to the floor, and lays her head on Bambi’s knee. Instead of saying anything to Bambi, Race just cries in her lap. Her tears roll out of her eyes and dampen Bambi’s jeans.
“I loved that nigga more than anything,” Bambi says with glossy eyes. I can tell she wants to cry harder, but she doesn’t. “He made me sleep with his dick in my pussy every night. There were nights where it was too hot, and I wanted to move to the edge of the bed just to breathe. I didn’t because he would think I was cheating, and argue with me about it for weeks at a time. I’m talking about the silent treatment.” Her head hangs lower. “I gave him two of the greatest sons in the world. I loved and encouraged him throughout his journey. And, I stood in his shadows. And this is how he repays me? Why would he do this shit to me?”
I want to hug my sister, because I can tell she needs me. But, there’s no room for me next to her. Scarlett is to her side and Race is on her knees. Instead of trying to find my space around her I pull up in front of her. She needs a lieutenant. Not a weakling. I’ll leave them to the bullshit. When I’m in position, I look dead into her eyes.
“Bambi, Kevin’s done for,” I say to her. “He’s dead. He can’t love you anymore. He can’t come back and answer to what he did to you, and he can’t take away the pain. You have to pick up the pieces, because we need you now. You were the one who told me that if we didn’t get stronger, and pull ourselves together, we were going to run the risk of not being able to take care of each other, and our families. You had me on that shit, and I need for you to follow through. There’s nothing more important right now than this meeting on Saturday. And, if afterwards you want to grieve, then we won’t stop you. As a matter of fact, I say when that time comes that we open one of them packs of cocaine, grab some champagne, and some sexy ass young niggas and have a proper grieving party. But, right now is not the time.”
Bambi smiles at me. “I guess you my little sergeant at arms now.”
“I’m your family, and the bitch who will keep it real when the other suckers won’t,” I say looking at Scarlett.
“She’s right,” Scarlett says adding her two fucking cents. “We need you strong, but you gotta stop drinking too.”
My face tightens. Oh how I hate that bitch. But, then again what’s new? But, as much as I talk shit, Camp chose. He chose her as his wife, and for now I would have to stay true to the Kennedy name. But, on everything I love we are going to have a proper discussion about what happened to my little girl when the time was right.
In the mean time, I’m not going to be fake sisters with her any longer. And, I plan to dig deeper into her past. We didn’t know much about Scarlett. She came into our family bare. I never met a cousin, her mother, her father or anybody else on her side of the family. I can’t help but wonder why. If they are ashamed of a daughter who married black, I can understand that, but Scarlett walked away whenever the subject of her family came up. No worries though, I’ll get at her later.
“I’m going to stop fucking with the bottle,” Bambi says yet again. “But, when I went to sleep in my car, I had a dream about us. All four of us.”
“What was it about?” I ask.
“I had a dream that the four of us became the biggest drug kingpins the world had ever seen.”
Race laughs and says, “If you had that dream, I couldn’t have been anywhere near the picture.”
“You were there, and you were great too,” Bambi responds. “You were handy with them weapons.”
“That’s the future,” I say. “For now, we need to prepare for the greatest moment of our lives. The meeting with the Russians on Saturday.”
“Now you talking,” Bambi says. “Now you talking.”
Friday, November 9th, 2012
6:00 pm
RACE
As I park my pink Porsche in front of Carey’s house, I can’t help but smile. Carey is the type of person who I can talk to about anything. She knows Ramirez and me are married, but doesn’t try to take my place, despite sharing a bed with him when he gets in the mood for something different.
There were even a few times when Ramirez was over her house too late, and Carey would send him home not wanting to destroy our marriage. So yes she was the side chick, and yes she loved my husband. But, at the end of the day she loved me too, and it was something I could feel whenever I was in her presence. I know my sisters would never understand. So Carey remained me, and Ramirez’s best-kept secret to a happy marriage.
I get out and knock on the door. It opens and Carey appears wearing a pink silk nightgown. Her hair falls on her shoulders. “Hey, Race,” she says bringing me into her warm arms. “Why is it that you get prettier every time I see you?”
“Not prettier than you,” I respond. I feel light on my feet now. Not sure why.
“Girl, you’re so silly,” she continues. She runs her fingers through my light brown hair. “Your beauty runs rings around mine.”
I don’t believe her. How could I? She’s gorgeous. She stands five foot two, which is shorter than me, and she has triple D breasts. Ramirez was a titty man despite his telling me repeatedly that mine are okay and cute. He even tried to coerce me into the doctor’s office for an upgrade. And what my sisters don’t know was that next month; I was going to go under the knife for him. But, that was before some
one killed him, and took him away from me.
When she releases me I can see a cute smile spread across her honey brown face. I really like this girl…so much. Don’t get it twisted, I never had sex with her, but I can only imagine how great it must be when Ramirez is inside of her.
“You don’t know how much I’ve been worried sick about you,” Carey tells me. “How come you haven’t been answering my calls? I haven’t spoke to you since Saturday.”
I swallow. She makes me jittery and nervous. “I know and I’m so sorry,” I walk into her beautiful home furnished and paid for by us. “I know you were worried, but I couldn’t get away to come see you or talk to you.”
She rushes into the kitchen, “Please don’t do that again, Race. I care about you. I know our situation is weird, and doesn’t make sense to outsiders, but you and I have an understanding. If I don’t speak to you my day is fucked up. You know that.”
Her voice sounds like a smooth duet from Mariah and Luther Vandross. It was something I wanted to hear over and over again. “Why you say that?”
She digs into cabinet after cabinet. She’s busying herself with something, but I can’t see what she’s doing because I’m staring at her body. She moves around like a dancer. A ballerina. Maybe it’s because she’s a stripper. How does she do that?
“We’ve had this conversation over and over again,” she starts. “I swear, Race, sometimes I think you ask me questions just to hear me talk.”
I feel like she can see right through me. How does she know? I didn’t even know before that moment how much I idolize her. But, yes it’s true…I love hearing her voice.
Instead of telling her that most nights I want to stay in her bed, instead of my own I say, “I really want to know what you meant, when you said we have an understanding.” I take off my brown leather jacket. I keep my sexy Christian Louboutin high heel boots on, because I think she likes them. She says they make me look taller and sexier.
