Hood Rat

by K'wan

“Jah, don’t give me that karma shit!” She raised her voice a little louder than she meant to. “Baby,” she said, calming herself, “I need to ask you a question and I need the absolute truth.”

  He didn’t like where the conversation was going. “Okay.”

  Yoshi took a deep breath. “Did you do it?”

  “Did I do what?” he said, faking ignorance.

  “You know what I mean, so stop playing. Jah, if we’re gonna keep it funky with each other, then let this be the starting point. Did you kill those men?”

  Time slowed for Jah as he pondered the question and how best to answer it. He cared very much for Yoshi and wanted to try and establish something with her, but how would the knowledge of what he’d done affect that? Looking into her brown eyes, he saw a bleeding desire to know the truth, but at the same time he knew she might not be strong enough to handle it. Jah knew there was only one way he could answer the question.

  “Nah, I ain’t have shit to do with it,” he lied.

  Yoshi threw her arms around Jah and hugged him as tight as she could. “Thank God,” she sobbed. “Jah, we’ve just found each other, please don’t let this street bullshit cut our time short.”

  “I won’t.” He hugged her just as intensely. “I’m gonna be in your corner for as long as you need me.” As Jah held Yoshi in his arms, he knew it would be a while before he went back to running wild in the streets. He was in no way saying that he would retire from the hustle, but he was sure as hell taking a long vacation.

  * * *

  Paul found himself riding the Harlem-bound 3 train in a very distraught state. When he hit Harlem, the first stop he had made was to Spooky’s. He wasn’t home, but after Paul fed Elaine the story about him having to get something for Jah, she allowed him to come in and scour through Spooky’s arsenal. Paul sifted through a variety of handguns before he finally found a black .40 inside a plastic bag. The gun looked worn, but he was sure they wouldn’t hold onto it unless it worked.

  Originally, he was going home to shower, but a very disturbing voicemail Marlene had left him altered his course: “Paul, this is my fifth time calling you and I’m feeling like a real chickenhead right now. You know what? As far as I’m concerned, you can stay wherever you are. I’m through. Have a nice life with one of those bum bitches you love so much and try not to let her flush your life down the toilet all at once.” If he wasn’t sure before, he was damn sure now that she was pissed off.

  Paul decided he should call her and get a sneak preview of what he was in for. He punched in her cell number and got the automated service telling him that the number was no longer in service. He tried it again and got the same message. Paul even called her house phone, but the result was the same. As a last resort, he tried her job and was told that Marlene had taken a leave of absence. Frantic, he spent most of what he had left in his pocket and took a cab to her house.

  Paul rushed up to the front door and tried his key. It slid smoothly into the lock, but wouldn’t turn. He tried banging on the door and shouting her name, but no one answered him. Looking up at the window, he saw that the curtains were all drawn and there was no sign of movement anywhere in the house. Marlene had just up and vanished.

  The ride back into Manhattan was less than pleasant. There were no seats on the bus, so he took the subway, which was sweltering without air-conditioning. He had racked his brains, trying to figure out where Marlene could’ve disappeared to, but he came up blank. She didn’t have many friends and her parents lived in a different state. He could barely keep himself from panicking as the possibilities of something possibly having happened to her kept popping into his head.

  He got off the train and walked hurriedly to his building. He still looked like walking death and really didn’t want to see anyone. He had planned on going home to take a shit and a shower and continue working on the mystery of Marlene’s disappearance. As Paul neared his building, he was very surprised to see who was waiting for him.

  “It’s about time you got here,” Audrey said, clearly irritated.

  “Audrey, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, thoroughly surprised.

  “Going against everything I believe in to help a friend out.” She tossed him the envelope.

  “Marlene sent you?”

  “Who the hell else do you think would’ve put the bail money up for your ass? Rhonda?”

  “But how did she even know where I was?”

  Audrey shook her head as if even talking to Paul was a task. “She’s a lawyer, remember?”

  “Shit, she must be pissed,” Paul thought out loud.

  “Pissed?” She looked at him as if he were insane. “Little boy, that’s the understatement of the year.”

  “Audrey, you don’t have to keep throwing insults at me,” he told her.

  “You’re lucky that’s all I’m throwing at you after what you did to my friend.”

  “I didn’t do shit to Marlene,” Paul insisted. “I know she’s probably mad at me for getting arrested, but it wasn’t my fault. That bitch Rhonda lied to the police,” he tried to explain.

  Audrey just shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? This ain’t about you getting arrested, Paul, it’s about you being a fucking loser with the best thing that’s happened to you.”

  “Yo, why you coming at me like I shitted on Mar? All I did was get locked up and you’re acting like I’ve been fucking around on her.”

  Audrey slit her eyes at him. “Paul, my ear is always to the streets, so don’t even go there with me. I just don’t take the shit I hear about you and your friend Larry to Marlene because I ain’t no homewrecker, but don’t act like your ass is Ward Cleaver. You know, I used to think that you were an okay dude, but apparently you’re just as fucked up as every other nigga running around trying to find his dick.”

  “Fuck you, Audrey. You don’t know me to judge me,” he said angrily.

  “I don’t have to know you, Paul, I know your type,” she said. “Marlene has been trying to reach out to you, but you’re too caught up with your silly-ass baby’s mama to see the writing on the wall.”

  “Audrey, I’ve had a very trying couple of days and I really ain’t got time for riddles or games. If you’ve got a contact number for Marlene, give it to me.”

  “She doesn’t want to hear from you,” she said flatly. “Marlene is going away for a while to try and rinse you out of her system.”

  “Away? Where?” he asked frantically.

  “I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” she said spitefully. “You’ve done some bonehead shit in the past, but this latest batch of bullshit turned out to be more than my girl could take. Maybe in a few years you’ll be wise enough to look back at all this and realize what a treasure you really had.”

  “Audrey, fuck this dumb shit you’re talking. I need to talk to Marlene and get some answers,” he said.

  “That envelope should have all the answers you need.” She nodded toward it. Paul looked down at the envelope he was holding as if he had momentarily forgotten it was there. He held it up to the light, but couldn’t make out its contents. He looked at Audrey, who motioned for him to open it. There was something about the smug look on her face that made him hesitate. Paul started to just tuck the envelope away and open it when he got upstairs, but curiosity got the best of him. Careful not to tear the contents of the envelope, Paul ripped it across the top and removed two sheets of paper. The first one was a letter, folded over, and signed in Marlene’s familiar handwriting. The second one was some sort of printout from a medical center, the name of which had been blackened out.

  “I don’t understand,” Paul said, reading the printout over and over because he couldn’t believe what it said.

  “Harlem niggaz never do,” Audrey mumbled. “That sheet of paper is from a DNA testing center. The little number on the side means that there is less than a one percent chance that you’re P.J.’s dad.”

  “Wh … what?” Paul stuttered.

 
; “It’s like Billy Jean, baby: the—kid—is—not—your—son! Take care of yourself, Paul,” Audrey said dryly as she headed back to her car.

  The whole world suddenly began to spin for Paul. His eyes transmitted the information to his brain, but it was still caught up in the processing stage. Before he even realized he was moving, he flopped flat on his ass. P.J. had been his son for as many years as the little boy had been on earth. He loved him so much that he refused to believe that science was right. He needed answers and there was only one place he would get them.

  * * *

  Jah and Yoshi had gone out to the movies, leaving Billy and Marcus alone in the house. Billy had protested that her friend was going out too soon, but Yoshi insisted. She felt like she was hiding by staying cooped up in the house. Finally, Billy realized if getting out would help her friend on the road to recovery, she shouldn’t stand in the way of that. Besides, she knew Yoshi was in the best of care with Jah. It was a strange love affair, but if it made Yoshi happy, then Billy was all for it.

  “Can you believe those two?” Marcus asked from the couch where he was lounging. “Darling, I love you so,” he said, doing a poor impersonation of Jah.

  “You need to quit.” Billy flopped on the couch and nestled herself in his chest. “I think they look cute together.”

  “The ’06 Bobby and Whitney,” Marcus joked.

  “I ain’t gonna tell you about cutting on my friends no more,” she said, pretending to be serious.

  “Nah, but I’m happy for them,” he admitted. “Everybody needs somebody, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “In some cases,” she said.

  “I hope this is one of them.”

  “Sure feels like it.” She kissed him just below the jaw. “Marcus, I don’t think I ever had a chance to thank you for all the trouble you’ve gone through.”

  “No need to thank me, Billy. I’m doing it out of love, not in search of gratitude. I’ve got a sister and a mother and I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something like that happened to one of them. Besides, had I not been hanging around here all damn day and night, I might not have had the chance to find out what a wonderful person you are.”

  “Aw, you’re so sweet.” She patted him on the cheek. “I might have to let you taste this again.”

  “I’m serious, Billy. I think you’re a real special lady, and I ain’t trying to let you go no time soon,” he said seriously. Marcus was staring at her so intensely that she cringed a little.

  “Marcus, I know you mean well, but a girl like me comes with a lot of baggage; you might not be ready for me,” she teased him.

  “Baby, I ain’t no stranger to baggage, I used to work at the airport,” he said, matching her wit. “You need to stop playing so we can walk these dogs, ma.”

  “Walk these dogs?” She looked up at him. “That is so 1997.” She craned her neck and kissed him. Who says there’s no such thing as a happy ending? was the thought that passed through her mind.

  41

  During the short cab ride to Rhonda’s house, Paul was going to go stark-raving mad. The printout shook violently in his hand as he read it for at least the hundredth time. “Less than one percent?” he said out loud. P.J. was his boy, his flesh. There was no way he could’ve come from someone else, it was impossible. This had to be a ploy by Audrey to try and worsen the situation with him and Marlene. If he hadn’t been so hell-bent on getting to Rhonda’s, he would’ve forced the truth out of her.

  Just holding the printout in his hands was driving him nuts, so he decided to read the letter. Whatever Marlene had to say couldn’t be any worse than the bomb Audrey had dropped on him. As soon as he removed the folded piece of paper, he recognized it as coming from the journal he had bought Marlene. When he opened it up and read it, his day got considerably worse.

  My dearest Paul,

  I know that writing you a letter as opposed to confronting you personally might seem like a cowardly thing to do, but honestly, I couldn’t face you. I no longer have the strength, largely in part because I gave all mine to you and never got anything in return. Ifyou only knew how long I dreaded writing this letter, but somewhere in my heart, I knew I’d have to and that’s why my words now flow so freely.

  Paul, I’ve tried to express myself to you time and again. I’ve dropped hints, and said out loud what I wanted and what I needed, but you never seemed to hear me. All Paul is concerned about is what’s best for Paul. It takes more than one person to have a successful relationship, and I guess that’s why ours didn’t work.

  I always said that if I ever felt like I wanted to step out of the relationship, then I would end it all together, and that’s the reason for this letter. While you were out running the streets and sleeping with chickenheads, I was left to sit at home and wonder if you were okay. When I needed to be comforted, you weren’t there, so someone else stepped to the plate.

  I never intended for it to happen, God knows I didn’t, but when it did, it opened my eyes to the fact that I don’t have to settle. This man, who had been right under my nose the whole time, showed me things that you couldn’t or wouldn’t. We made love in the sand under a pale moon. I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, but I think you need to. Those are the kinds of things that make a woman feel special. Paul, I love you to death, but you have a lot to learn about what it takes to please a woman. There’s more to keeping her around than just good dick.

  I’ve tried to understand and be patient, Paul, but how long would I be forced to wait in the wings until you and Rhonda decided to get your shit together? It troubles me to know that the children who we will one day entrust our society to have parents like Rhonda as examples to follow. It’s a sad cycle, and I only hope P.J. doesn’t get caught up in the madness. No matter who fathered him, I’ll always remember him as the son I got to have for a little while.

  Paul, please don’t hate me for what I’ve done, but try to understand me like I’ve tried to understand you. I needed to be loved, Paul, and you just weren’t willing to do it the right way. Don’t take this letter as a putdown or a scorn, but as a lesson learned in life. The next time you get a good woman, try to appreciate her more so that you never have to receive another letter like this one.

  Love always,

  Marlene

  Paul’s whole body shook. Though he wasn’t crying out loud, tears ran down his face. The love he had held in his heart for Marlene withered and was reborn as a ball of hate. She had gone out of her way to take his heart and completely stomp on it. If she had been sitting beside him, there was no doubt in his mind that he would’ve broken her jaw. When a woman gets her heart broken, it hurts, but when it happens to a man, the pain is tenfold because his pride and ego is so much bigger.

  He thought Marlene would be the one true love of his life, but she had turned out to be as sneaky and trifling as the next bitch. He cursed himself for not listening to Larry and keeping it as a fuck thing. This was the second time he failed to heed his friend’s advice and it blew up in his face. Not knowing what else to do, Paul laughed hysterically and cried for the rest of the ride.

  * * *

  Rhonda sat at her usual post on the far end of the couch with her TV tuned to BET. She had finally gathered the strength to finish cleaning her house. As a reward to herself, she was going to get sky high and drunk. She was just about to crack open another Corona when someone knocked on the door.

  “Alisha, didn’t I tell you to take your fucking key when you left this house!” she shouted. Angrily, Rhonda made her way to the door and snatched it open. To her utter shock, it wasn’t her daughter standing on the other side.

  “Hey, Rhonda,” Paul said in an all-to-calm voice. His eyes were bloodshot and held more than a slight glint of madness.

  “Paul, what the fuck are you doing here? I’ve got a restraining order out against you!” she reminded him.

  “I just came to see my son,” Paul said.

  “P.J.’s not here, so you can leave.” She tr
ied to close the door, but he caught it with his foot.

  “That works, too, ’cause we gotta talk.” He invited himself in. He crossed the living room with Rhonda on his heels.

  “Paul, I hope you didn’t come over here to start no shit, ’cause if you did…”

  “Is P.J. my son?” he blurted out.

  Rhonda was stunned by the question, but being a skilled schemer, she recovered quickly. “What kind of stupid-ass question is that?”

  “Just answer it!” he barked.

  The tone of his voice made Rhonda nervous. She had seen Paul enraged, but the state he was in was totally different. There seemed to be something terribly off kilter about him that day.

  “Of course P.J. is your son. I ain’t got no reason to lie,” she told him.

  “Good, then maybe you can clear this up,” he said, handing her the printout.

  Rhonda cautiously took the paper from Paul’s outstretched hand and read it. When she got to the bottom, the blood immediately drained from her face. Though she was no medical technician, she got the gist of what the printout was trying to say. She looked over at Paul, who was watching for a reaction.

  “What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” he said in a harsh tone.

  “Paul, where the fuck did you get this shit from?” she asked, wheels spinning, trying to piece together a story.

  “Doesn’t matter where I got it, what I wanna know is is it true?”

  Rhonda could’ve guessed where he got the paternity test, but she knew off the back it was Marlene. She had the resources and the motive to do some underhanded shit like that. When Rhonda caught her on the streets, it would be on and popping. Rhonda saw the seriousness in Paul’s eyes and couldn’t think of what to say. She could continue trying to convince him that it was all bullshit, but you couldn’t argue with scientific proof.

  “Paul, let me explain,” she finally said.

  “So its true?” he said, looking very unstable.

  “Paul, when I got pregnant with P.J., I was fucking around on you, but I really believed he was yours. When he got older and didn’t look anything like you, I started having doubts, but after seeing the two of you together and how you interacted with him, I knew he had to be yours. If you hadn’t gotten the paternity test done, I’d still think he was yours.”