The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

  “I’ll meet you in the parking lot on the south side of the mall.”

  The phone went dead and Red began to think of her next move. What can I do now?

  She reached in the glove box of Blue’s car, searching for something to take. She found various photos of Blue and other bitches. Nothing surprising there. She also found about forty dollars in loose bills and change, which she pocketed.

  She drove to a nearby convenience store and purchased two five-pound bags of sugar, a box of matches and charcoal lighter fluid. She hadn’t picked her weapon yet, but she wanted to be prepared. Walking out the door of the store, she had to fight back the tears. What in the world was this about? Her sweet sixteen was a month away and she was planning a caper that could land her in jail—or worse, get her beat the fuck up by Blue.

  Walking to the car Red noticed the time and figured she had about twenty minutes before Blue arrived. She drove near the airport to find a ride. Red approached the cabstand and saw a cab taking a break at the nearby Burger King. She walked over and tapped the glass. The old, gray-haired cabbie smiled and rolled down his window.

  “Hey, daddy.” Red spoke as if she were a woman older than her years.

  “Yeah, honey. What can I do for you?”

  “I need a ride back to the city and I was wondering if I could get a fare?”

  “Sure, honey. Jump in.”

  “Well, I need to get picked up at the mall. Could you follow me there?”

  “What?” the cabdriver asked suspiciously.

  “I have to drop off my sister’s car for her. She works night security at the mall.” Red pointed to Blue’s car. The Mercedes was tricked out, tinted glass, lots of chrome detailing—the works—and Red sensed the cabbie’s hesitation so she pulled two twenties from her pockets.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I got money. I just don’t want to wait for her to get off. I came over here,” she said, pointing to the Burger King, “to get something to eat. Kill time before my sister gets off. Then I saw you, so I wondered if I could cab it back and meet her back at home. I got work in the morning,” Red added, yawning.

  “I don’t go back into the city,” the cabbie explained, suddenly changing his mind.

  “Well, get me to the train station and I’ll hop the train,” Red suggested. Red faked a shiver to let the cabbie know that he needed to make a decision. “Oh, it’s getting nippy.” She flashed a smile.

  The cabbie hesitated before he finally said, “Okay. I’ll follow you over to the mall.”

  Red led the driver to the mall. She knew which exit to have him park at, which was opposite the one where Blue was coming to meet her. She wanted to position the cabbie in a discreet spot so that when Blue pulled up, the cab would be undetected.

  Red pulled into the North Randall mall parking lot. There were a few cars there, which probably belonged to people working late, and overnight security. The security jeep cruising past them made Red think twice of torching Blue’s ride.

  The cabbie parked where Red indicated.

  “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes. Please don’t leave me. I have to find my sister and give her the keys.” Red handed the cabbie twenty dollars. “I’ll have more. I just want to let you know that I’m serious.”

  Red drove to the other side of the mall. She grabbed the bag of sugar and ripped it open, making a spout. Then she removed the cap to the gas tank and poured the sugar inside. When the first bag was completely empty, she poured in the second one.

  Red replaced the cap on the gas tank and checked the fuel gauge. She turned the car off, started it again and revved the engine, then drove the car around in a circle until she felt the car drag a bit. Then she parked it. Satisfied with her revenge, she felt good. Although still hurting, she wouldn’t be the only one walking away bleeding.

  Red took one of the keys and cut up the leather interior seats. She carved the letters R-E-D into the dashboard. She turned and slashed the headrests. Rearing back in the seat, Red kicked and kicked with all her might until she broke the knobs off the stereo. She ran to the trunk of the car, where Blue kept his extra speakers, and bashed those in with a set of dumbbells he also had in the car. Finally she left a note on the steering wheel of the car.

  Blue,

  The next time I see you, you’re dead!

  Red

  Satisfied with her work, Red headed for the rear of the mall, where she came up on two Dumpsters. Something moved in the shadows, making her heart beat fast. She wondered if she was alone. If Blue had gotten there, he’d been watching her and was probably planning to kick her ass for her actions.

  Suddenly a small figure darted out in front of her. Red jumped, then let out a small sigh of relief. It was just a small cat that had been looking for something to eat in the Dumpster. Red felt no remorse, not even the least iota of guilt.

  Red continued visiting New York every summer. From afar she watched Blue and heard of the rumors of his success through the grapevine. She vowed to one day take her revenge on him. Every good wasn’t gone. Every shut eye wasn’t sleep.

  CHAPTER 5

  What Goes on in the Dark

  Q was puttin’ in extra work. After he had time to get used to the idea, he was so excited about having a child. A month had passed since he first found out that Red was expecting and he vowed to be out of the game by the time his child came into this world. Q was determined to be legit, save enough money and go back to school for a degree so that he could maintain a legal way of life.

  This was perfect for Red because she was able to avoid seeing him a lot. When she couldn’t avoid him, she wore loose-fitting clothes and created excuses for not having sex with him. When Q and Red were able to spend time together, it was all hearts, flowers and candy.

  Q pulled his car into one of the spots in the three-car garage attached to Red’s home.

  “Hey, baby,” Red greeted him as he walked toward her smiling. His arms were filled with gifts. “You need to stop this,” she said, indicating the gifts. Q had been spoiling Red rotten. It was to the point that she didn’t even have to ask for shit, or even scheme. Red noticed the less she asked, the more she got out of him.

  Red began to tear the packages open; inside one she found a set of toddler’s clothes. Oh shit, he starting to buy baby clothes, she thought.

  “Red, when am I going to the doctor’s office with you?” Q asked.

  “Um, you can go next month.” Red walked into the great room, faking admiration over the baby clothing. She was trippin’ because all of them were top-notch brand names like Guess? and OshKosh. “You hungry?” Red tried to change the subject.

  “Nah, I’m good, but really, when was your last appointment? You don’t have to go through this alone.” Q pulled Red closer to him. With his arms around her he began to caress her stomach and kiss her gently on her cheek.

  “Damn, you still small.” Q was referring to her stomach still being flat. Red did her best to poke it out and consciously rubbed it the way pregnant women subconsciously do.

  “I went to the doctor Tuesday.”

  “Damn,” Q said, obviously disappointed he missed the appointment by one day.

  “I promise, you can go next month. It’s really no big deal. Look. It’s getting there.” Red smiled and placed his hand on her stomach again.

  Q smiled back at her. “Come here, baby. Let me hold you.”

  Red squirmed, trying to get away from his embrace. The truth was, she was on her period and all she needed was for him to feel her up and discover the ultra-thin sanitary napkin in the crotch of her panties. She walked over to the kitchen, Q following, and began to pull all sorts of food out of the fridge.

  “I’m so hungry,” she said, eating a pickle and digging in a bag of chips. Q seemed happy to see her eating.

  “I want a fat little baby. Don’t do that skinny Hollywood shit, Red. I mean it. Be sure to eat. Don’t be so vain about this.” He paused, then asked, “How far along are you?”

  Oh shit, think, Red
, think! “Why are you picking on me, Q?” She began to cry.

  “Picking on you? How you figure that?”

  “You asking all sorts of questions and I . . . I . . . waaaaa!”

  Red had to do something to divert him from probing into her fake pregnancy.

  “Red, I just want to—”

  “You always in the streets! You don’t want me. You don’t want this baby!” Red slumped over, crying hysterically but laughing inside because he was falling for her shit, hook, line and sinker.

  Red knew this would back him up. He felt guilty about how he made his money and whenever Red wanted to put him on the defensive, she used this against him. In the next breath she would ask for something that put his mind back on him doing what he was doing and what he had to do. It went back and forth like this over and over again, yet he fell for it every single time.

  “You said we were going to look for another house and you haven’t even gone with meeeeee!” She wailed even more.

  Red had been pressing Q for a new address for some time, which made him work even harder to get enough money. Red’s current home was worth at least $1 million, and Q knew he would have to move her into something similar, if not better.

  “So have you been looking for homes?” Q asked, trying to appease her.

  “I don’t want to go by myself. I want you to go with me.” Red made her lips quiver as if she were going to cry again.

  “Baby, we can go soon. I promise,” Q reassured her so she wouldn’t have another crying spell.

  “I still don’t want to live in Detroit. I don’t want to raise my child here.”

  “I hear you, but I ain’t trying to go to New York. It’s just as bad as Detroit, Red.” Grimacing, Q shook his head.

  “Look, I don’t care where we go, really. I just wanna get the fuck out of here.” She wiped her eyes with a tissue. “Niggas kill me, talking that ‘I got loot’ shit.” For good measure, she grabbed another pickle and started eating it. “A muthafucka soon learns just how long his money is when he can’t move where they want. I got people all day and night dropping by my crib. I got problems of my own I can’t solve. I got my Jew bitch on my back to perform or get out of her office.” Red staggered away, holding her stomach as if she were about to throw up.

  She had already decided on her plan: to fake stress. Everyone knew that stress was the number-one cause of miscarriages. Red only had three options: produce a baby, fake an abortion or fake a miscarriage. The only reasonable alternative was a miscarriage due to the stress.

  Red wondered what it would have been like just to date Q like a regular person. But she didn’t have time for regrets. She was on a mission and had to stick to the plan at hand.

  Once Red got inside the bathroom, she put the rest of her plan to work. She removed the bloody pad she wore and threw it into the toilet with a lot of tissue. Fuck it, I’ll deal with that later if the toilet gets clogged, she thought. Splashing water on her face, as if she were perspiring, she knocked everything that was on the sink onto the floor. “Argghhhhh!” she screamed.

  Q ran into the bathroom. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “Q, the baby! The baby!” Red doubled over as if she were in pain.

  “What?!” Q asked, almost hysterical.

  Red held her stomach as Q moved her off of the toilet. “Oh my God!” he said as he stared at the mess.

  “Our baby, Q! I’m having a miscarriage!” Red cried into Q’s chest. “Q, I’m so sorry,” she wailed.

  Tears formed in Q’s eyes. Walking Red to her bed, he asked, “Should I call 911?”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her stomach, she cried, “I know you wanted this baby. I did, too. Please don’t leave me, Q.”

  Holding her tightly, he assured her, “I’m not going anywhere,” while kissing her tears away.

  In between breaths, she replied, “I’ll call my doctor. This is something they told me could happen in the first trimester.”

  Not knowing how to help her, he asked, “Is there anything I can get you?”

  “Can you get me some pads, Q? Super,” she said as she picked up the phone. Dialing time and temperature, pretending it was her doctor’s office, Red spoke into the phone. “Hi, this is Raven Gomez and I’m a patient of Dr. Nesbit and I believe I’m having a miscarriage.”

  Q listened for a moment, then left for the store to get what Red requested. Q rode in silence, as he shed tears for his unborn child.

  • • •

  Two weeks had passed and Red was coming around to being her normal self, from Q’s point of view, that is. He stood by her side and didn’t push the issue when shortly after the miscarriage she told him she was scheduled for a D & C. Although he wanted to accompany her, he opted not to because she claimed it was too painful and she wanted to forget the whole ordeal, plus she felt better with a woman around because they understood. Q didn’t fight her on this because he felt that somehow he was responsible for the miscarriage. When Sasha came to pick her up for the D & C, they went to a mall on the other side of town.

  • • •

  Red continued to enjoy Q’s undivided attention and sympathy, but it was starting to get old. Whatever Red wanted, Red got and she wasn’t complaining but she wanted some time to herself.

  Today she was lying with her head in his lap, beginning to doze off, when the doorbell chimed.

  “Damn, can’t have no peace with my man!” Right on time, Red thought as she stomped to the door, like she wasn’t expecting Sasha. “Muthafuckas come through here like it’s a casino.” Red mumbled more profanities under her breath as she went to the glass door. Red opened the door, winked at Sasha and turned to walk back into the great room.

  “Hey, girl. What’s up? I’m all packed. When will I get my door key? We had a deal, remember?” Sasha asked.

  “Q, this is my girl, Sasha,” Red said by way of introduction.

  “What’s up?” Q sounded nonchalant.

  “Hi, you look really familiar. You from around here?” Sasha started her usual questions dance. She knew that to ask questions sometimes meant you would get answers. “Did you go to Kettering High School?” Sasha sat on the chaise to the left of Q.

  “Nah, didn’t go there,” Q responded.

  Sasha knew that all the criminals in the city ran through Kettering. She wanted to figure out if he was an East Side playa or a North Side hustler. Sasha could smell money on Q and she knew if Red knew him, he was a money-getting cash cow someway, somehow.

  “What side of town you from?” Sasha asked politely.

  “Red, baby, I gotta make a run.” Q sipped the last of his drink, ignoring Sasha’s last question.

  “You coming back, right?” Red asked, trying to scope out his intentions. She walked Q back through the corridor that led to the garage. “You gonna spend the night with me?” she asked, holding his hand.

  “You know how I feel about resting my head in another nigga’s house. Can’t do it.”

  “Yeah, I know. We got to get a place of our own. All this time we’ve been spending together has got a girl spoiled,” she said as she put her chin down, feigning sadness.

  Sasha tiptoed over to the hall, trying her best to listen in on the couple. It wasn’t working, though; she couldn’t hear a thing.

  “I may ask Sasha to move in with me until we find something,” Red confessed.

  “What?” Q tried—and failed—to hide his irritation.

  Faintly, the house phone began to ring.

  “Want me to get that?” Sasha screamed from the hallway.

  “Yeah, go ’head.” Red turned her attention back to Q.

  Sasha fumbled around for the cordless phone. “Hello,” she answered.

  “Collect call from Bacon?” the operator asked.

  “Yes!” Sasha yelled. “Hello?”

  “Who dis?” Bacon asked.

  “Sasha. How’s it going, love?”

  “I’m hanging in there. Yo, where’s Red?” Bacon asked.


  Instead of placing him on hold, or putting the phone down first, Sasha walked right up to where she thought Q and Red would be. Sure enough, she caught them in an affectionate embrace. Red was sucking on the side of Q’s neck while his eyes were closed in pleasure. They were so intent on grinding slowly back and forth, they didn’t hear Sasha walk up to them. They did hear her whisper into the phone, “Bacon, I think you need to call back later.”

  The mention of Bacon’s name caused Red to freeze and turn toward Sasha.

  Red would have never taken the call and could have easily played Bacon to the left, as she had been doing the past three months. Instead she used it as a chance and reached for the phone. “Hey, Bacon,” Red said as if nothing was wrong.

  “Bitch, now you can answer the phone?” Bacon was furious and expected Red to be on the defensive, so he established his position first.

  “Hold on a sec.” Red placed her hand over the receiver and said, “Q, give me a call, baby. I need to take this.”

  Q screwed up his face and turned to leave. He didn’t want to make a scene. He wanted to ask Red what the hell that was all about, but how could he when she was living in the man’s house? Q pulled out of the garage and vowed to get Red out of that house by the end of the month, even if it took his last dime. Even if he had to commit murder, he wanted her out of there.

  • • •

  Red took the cordless phone and headed up the stairs. On the way she told Sasha, “Make yourself at home.”

  Red strolled into her bedroom and sat on the edge of her bed facing her vanity. She paused for a minute or two. Red knew that Bacon had about seven minutes left of his fifteen-minute phone call. She took a deep breath, looked at herself in the mirror for a long time and placed the phone to her ear.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey, my ass. Fuck you been?” Bacon asked.

  Red knew he called to talk and not curse. Otherwise, why would he call? She knew to play cool. She hadn’t mailed the letter to him, yet.

  “Bacon, I got your fucked-up-ass letter and I know you’re mad, but you just don’t know what’s going on out here.”