La Familia

by Paradise Gomez

  “Fuck her!”

  “Fuck you, bitch,” I retorted.

  Edenwald had just seen the clash of titans. The streets were howling about us. Tina was trying to pull me back to the car. I resisted so heavily that I was ready to fight her. I didn’t want the fight to end, but it did. Meme helped with Tina trying to drag me to the car with me cursing and carrying on like some lunatic. I grabbed my stomach all of a sudden and folded over. I suddenly felt hurt; a sharp pain in my side felt like a thousand needles were digging into my skin. I cried out. Tina and Meme pushed me into the car. I wasn’t giving birth at three months, but I became substantially worried about my unborn child.

  As Meme rushed me to the local hospital, I started to cry. Not from the pain in my stomach and side, but the pain I felt from the betrayal and then having my whole world collapse around me. There weren’t any words to describe what I was feeling, but it was the end of the world for me.

  I was rushed to Jacobi hospital in Meme’s car and quickly seen by doctors in the emergency room. They ran some tests on me, took blood, and treated me carefully because of my condition. They said I was okay, that it was probably stress or an anxiety attack. I was told to rest and drink plenty of fluids.

  I was going through a lot and a girl in my condition didn’t need the added stress in my life. But besides that, me and my baby was okay. He or she was a trooper like me. However, yes, I was okay on the outside, physically healthy and still ticking, but mentally I was sick and fucked up. I couldn’t stop thinking about my fight with Sammy. The fight between us was the final blow to our already shaky friendship. The betrayal from her had me not wanting to trust anyone ever again, and it had me feeling suicidal. That feeling hurt so bad I would get these pains in my chest and become so emotional.

  Tina and Meme didn’t leave my side the entire time. They were with me through every step and every way. They did their best to comfort me. But I was just too upset. The nurse who was taking my blood pressure in the room would look at me, seeing my minor bruises on my face from the fight, and the tears staining my face. She said to me, “Chile, he’s not worth it. Take care of yourself and that baby. It is the only thing that matters.”

  I was ready to curse this bitch out. Who was she to fuckin’ judge me and be in my business? She didn’t know me at all. I glared at her, holding my composure and tongue for some reason.

  She continued with, “You are a very beautiful young woman, chile. God has blessed you with life developing inside of you. You are going to become a young mother. I can see the pain in your eyes and the hurt in your soul. Let it go and only be concerned for your unborn.”

  The woman gazed at me with genuine concern. She was black, maybe with West Indies roots. She looked to be in her early forties and was beautiful with long black hair and gray streaks. She seemed to really love her job and truly care for the patients she was treating.

  “What is your name?” she asked me.

  I didn’t answer her. I frowned; she continued to smile.

  “It’s okay, my name is Gail. And I’m your friend.”

  “I don’t need any friends,” I spat. “So fuck you!”

  She continued to smile and was warm and friendly with me. I wanted her to do her job and leave me the fuck alone.

  “It’s always good to have a friend, especially when you are going through hard times. I know the world you come from and I can see the mistrust in your eyes, chile.”

  “You don’t know shit about me, bitch, so stop faking like you really care about me. You don’t know the shit I been through and where I’m fuckin’ from!” I shouted.

  The bitch didn’t even seem startled by my outburst. She continued to treat me and talk to me so warmly. I didn’t know her angle or motive. What did she have to gain from being nice to me? It felt like she wanted me to open up and confess something.

  “Well, if you don’t want me to know a little about you, then I’m going to tell you something about me.” She smiled heavily.

  I didn’t want to know, but she was going to tell it to me anyway.

  “I don’t know you, but I love you,” she said.

  I was thinking this bitch was weird, a freak or a lesbian and I didn’t swing that way. I scowled at her and clenched my fists. If she moved the wrong way toward me, then I was ready to go ham on this weird bitch.

  She went on with, “I love you, because God loves me and He loves you.”

  Oh my God, she was a bible-thumping fool. I didn’t want to hear any more, especially about God. But she added, “I know your life, chile.”

  “I’m not ya fuckin chile!” I exclaimed.

  “Then what is your name?”

  “They call me Mouse.”

  “It’s a beautiful name.”

  “Whatever!” I rolled my eyes.

  “Mouse, let me tell you something: sometimes life doesn’t get easier, we only become stronger. And God is telling me that a dangerous storm is coming your way.”

  “What? You a psychic or somethin’?”

  She chuckled. “No, I’m not a psychic, but God is. He knows our comings and goings, and I see something very special in you, Mouse.”

  “You see somethin’ special in me?”

  “I was you at one point in my life. Pregnant when I was seventeen, and in the streets doing everything and anything to survive. The baby’s father wasn’t around. So I sold dope and I sold myself on these streets just to provide for and feed my oldest son. It was hard for me, Mouse. I was so young and scared, and my friends were against me.”

  Now she was becoming interesting.

  “Where are you from?” I asked.

  “I’m from the Bronx too. I grew up in Soundview. This was way before your time, Mouse. I used to be on drugs so bad when I was around your age. But a few years ago, I gave my life over to Christ and He led the way for me.”

  I wasn’t trying to hear about Christ or any of that other religious nonsense. But I admit, this nurse did become a lot more interesting to me.

  She looked at me, like she was reading me, or saw something that I didn’t see.

  “It’s gonna get harder for you, Mouse. I know. But you have to remain strong and have faith. You must forgive whoever hurt and did you wrong, and move on.”

  “Fuck that bitch!” I spat.

  She continued talking and preaching to me. She was trying to get through to me, preach to me about love and Christ, but I was being too stubborn. But I admit she did have a way of calming me down. I didn’t want to be calmed down. I wanted revenge.

  Before the nurse left my room, she gave me her phone number and said if I ever needed to talk or wanted to attend church with her, then to give her a call anytime. She promised that she would never be too busy for me. I took her number, and before she left the room, she said a prayer for me and my unborn child. I never had anyone pray for me before. It was weird. But it was nice.

  “I don’t know you, Mouse, but I love you. You are special. God has something special planned for you, and when that storm comes your way, you anchor yourself to faith and Him, and you stay there and fight. And if you ever need me, you have my number,” she proclaimed warmly.

  What storm was she talking about?

  I exhaled and felt something strange inside of me. I’d been through many storms in life and I was still here, surviving and doing me. I wasn’t weak. Gail’s words did linger in my mind for a moment after she left. Her advice and words to me did have me thinking, but when Tina and Meme walked back into my room, that nurse’s talk went out the door and reality hit me. I didn’t know that bitch and chances were I would probably never see her again.

  I was being discharged from the hospital that same day. I stood outside the emergency room with Tina. We were waiting for Meme to get the car and pull up. They didn’t want me to walk the three blocks where she was parked.

  But I didn’t want to go back home. I didn’t want to see Rico’s cheating face, because if I did, I would kill him and someone would end up killing me. But I
had nowhere else to go. It was a heartbreaking moment for me. Meme said I could stay with her, but she lived in Edenwald, in the building next to Sammy’s, and I didn’t want to see that bitch again, even though they said that she was now living in Co-op City. I was ready to kill her.

  When Meme pulled up, I climbed into the front seat. Meme looked at me and asked, “Where you wanna go, Mouse? I’ll drive you anywhere. And you already know you can stay wit’ me for how long. I got ya back.”

  I was flattered. I huffed and said to her, “Just take me home.”

  “Mount Vernon?”

  I nodded.

  Mount Vernon was my home now. I had nowhere else to go. It was comfortable and it was away from the bullshit. The only flaw was it was Rico’s place and I had to share it with him. And even though he made me sick to my stomach, I was carrying his baby and he was still my man.

  Meme drove off. I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. I wanted to be alone for a moment. I didn’t feel like talking. I only wanted to rest. I wanted to go into my book of rhymes and write. Like always, I wanted to escape.

  Meme arrived at my Mount Vernon address thirty-five minutes later. It was late. I didn’t see Rico’s car in the driveway or parked anywhere on the block. I got out. Tina and Meme wanted to come inside with me, but I told them no. I didn’t want any company. I walked inside to a dark and lonely house, just like my heart. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Like usual, Rico wasn’t home and I wasn’t going to call his cell phone. He never answered anyway. I went into the bedroom and undressed, and went to bed, but I wasn’t tired. I only wanted to lie down and dream I was somewhere else.

  I lay in bed for forty minutes with my eyes open and gazing at the ceiling in tears. I thought about a rhyme I wanted to write. I needed to express myself. If you love me, you sure don’t act like you do. If you desire me, then why the fuck do I feel so used? I’m ya boo, but nigga you don’t have a clue, you have a woman that’s true to you, but you fuck my bitch like that shit is cool, I’m ride or die fo’ ya fuckin’ lies, I’m in love, these tears that fall is my life, nigga I should cut off ya dick and string it around my neck, bitch nigga, now I’m the one wearin’ the family jewels, sportin’ this bitch like he can exist.

  As I was working on my rhyme I heard the front door open. It was Rico coming home. I wasn’t going to rush to confront him. I really didn’t want to see him. How was he going to explain his infidelity to me? How the fuck was he going to explain fuckin’ my best friend? How the fuck was he going to explain his lies to me, the way he was dogging me? There was no way to explain it.

  I heard him coming my way. I dried my tears but more continued to fall. He had to have heard about the fight. The streets were always talking and Rico was always listening. Rico came into the bedroom. I was propped up, sitting Indian style with my back against the headboard. I glared at him. He looked at me with this deadpan expression, like he wasn’t sorry for everything he’d done.

  “You just gonna look at me, or you gonna say somethin’?” I shouted.

  “What you wanna know? I fucked up, a’ight? Lo siento.”

  He said he was sorry. I didn’t believe him. “That’s it! Rico, do you fuckin’ love me?” I dried my tears once again.

  “Yeah, I love you,” he replied coolly. “But what you gonna do, you gonna leave me?” It was a very bold statement coming from him.

  He stepped closer to me. His apologetic look turned into a sinister stare at me. “Sammy and I got history. Yeah, I fucked her. But you got my seed and you ain’t goin’ anywhere. I got you livin’ comfortable, Mouse. Como una reina maldito, and you owe me for all of this,” he said gruffly.

  “What?”

  “Bitch, you heard me!”

  I got up from the bed. I was ready to leave him. “Fuck you!”

  He charged at me and smacked me across the face and I went flying across the bed. He stood over me with his fists clenched. He had changed drastically.

  “You ain’t goin’ any-fuckin’-where, Mouse. Ya my woman and you stay here!”

  I cried out. He attacked me again. And just like that, I went from the frying pan and into the fire. This wasn’t my life. This couldn’t be my life. I went from an abusive father to an abusive boyfriend. And Rico didn’t have any problems putting his hands on a pregnant woman—his woman. He beat me and then raped me for what felt like an eternity. He shoved his dick into me forcefully. I tried to fight, but the more I resisted, the more aggressive he became. He punched me and punched me while he was on top of me fucking me. He thrust inside of me with his hand around my neck and the tears streaming down my face.

  “Rico! Stop it! Stop it!” I cried out.

  My cries for him to stop fell on deaf ears. He seemed in some kind of trance. It was hurting. It was painful. He fucked me roughly and then came inside of me. It felt like he just used the toilet on me. This wasn’t the man I fell in love with a few months back. This was a stranger in my home.

  When he was done, I was black and blue all over, and sore. He finally got off of me and pulled up his jeans. He stared at me with this smug look, and he looked proud of his work.

  “Bitch, you ain’t goin’ anywhere. You in my home now and I own you. You live good here, so get used to it. You leave when I say so. And if you ever fuckin’ leave me, then I’ll find you and I’ll kill you, pregnant or not,” he said brusquely.

  I just cried and cried. When he left the bedroom, I was in agony and tears. I was so sore in many areas of my body and I was blinded by my watery eyes. I wanted to go home. But I had no home. Gail warned me that a storm was coming, but I didn’t believe her and I didn’t know it was coming this fast. I still had her number in my jeans pocket. I was tempted to call, but for some reason, I didn’t. I think I was embarrassed because she was right about everything. I had brushed her off and was a complete bitch to her. I could only stare at her number and sob. This was hell on earth for me. When was my pain and suffering going to end? When was I going to find happiness?

  Sammy

  Four months later: November

  The morning sickness was killing me; I didn’t understand how women could do it, be pregnant all of the time and deal with the changes your body gradually goes through. I spent almost the entire morning in the bathroom feeling nauseated and throwing up. I had business to take care of and couldn’t afford to be pregnant. However, it was confirmed from my doctor. I was six weeks pregnant with Rico’s child. Which meant the nigga had to knock me up sometime in October. It wasn’t a shock to me; I never once used protection with him and we were fucking all the time. I was hooked on that dick and I was in love with him.

  Rico knew about the pregnancy, and he must have felt proud about himself. He got two best friends pregnant at the same time. He accomplished something that niggas in the hood been trying to do for a very long time: lock down two of the finest bitches with his seed. I couldn’t believe I was carrying his baby, too. He didn’t want me to get an abortion. He was so adamant about it that I thought he would kill me if I tried to.

  “You ain’t killin’ my baby, Sammy,” he had said to me.

  So I was stuck carrying either a boy or girl inside my belly. But I was still in the streets; pregnant or not, getting that money wasn’t going to ever stop. I had an organization to run and a career to pop off. I hadn’t spoken or seen Mouse in months, actually since our fight in July. We weren’t best friends anymore and the bitch was out of sight, out of mind. We made sure to stay separate from each other. The last I heard about her, she was still shacking up with my man, pregnant, looking like a house and trying to be the best housewife she could be. Dumb bitch! I was getting money and she was Mrs. Brady. I had to laugh.

  I wiped my mouth and got myself right. I walked into the living room. Saint and Romeo were bagging the last of the kilos on the table. It was a large shipment of cocaine from our Colombian connect in Washington Heights: twenty kilos. I oversaw the entire operation. I was making money by the boatload and I was that bitch on the stre
ets. The past five months had been very profitable. I still had the apartment in Co-op City, another place in Edenwald, and a stash house that was an hour upstate from here. I didn’t want to be poor anymore. My wardrobe changed considerably: Gucci, Donna Karan, Chanel, Fendi. I was wearing it all and loving it. I drove around in a dark blue Mercedes-Benz, and the best thing about hustling was I was able to invest heavily into my music. I was a solo artist and spending numerous hours in the recording studio and doing my own promotion. I had money to burn and I invested into my music career. I wanted to become the female P. Diddy or Russell Simmons in the game. I had an army backing me.

  I sat in the apartment counting money and watching the news, and when I heard them mention something about Macky, it caught my attention. It had been months since I put two bullets into that muthafucka, and Rico’s goons took care of disposing the body. The media had announced that he’d been missing for almost four months now and everybody was looking for him. He was a prominent music producer who suddenly disappeared from his upstate home and his family and friends were extremely worried. Even Search was asking around about him.

  I took a pull from my Newport and smirked. They wasn’t going to find him. From my understanding, the two men Rico had with him that night were good at getting rid of bodies. I wasn’t concerned about it. There was no connection to me.

  “Y’all niggas almost done wit’ that work?” I asked Saint.

  “Yeah, we almost done,” he replied.

  I wanted to hurry up and get rid of this shipment. I was uncomfortable having too much weight in one place. Once we got the product from the Heights, the majority of the keys went across state lines for wholesale prices, and the remainder we cut and bagged up for street distribution.

  I was satisfied with the way things were turning out. I walked to the window and gazed outside. It was a brisk November evening with Thanksgiving right around the corner. I was never too big on celebrating holidays. I never had a family to celebrate with and I damn sure didn’t have anything to celebrate about. It was just another day to me. I continued to smoke my cigarette and stared at the Bronx from fourteen floors up. This was where I was supposed to be: on top of the world.