Ghetto Girls 6

by Anthony Whyte

  “You’ve got to get some rest. And that chair might not be too good for your back. Maybe you should get home and get some rest. You’ll be welcome back tomorrow.”

  Coco glanced at her mother then back at the nurse. Without saying anything, she nodded, and rose from her seat. She had been sitting in the same position for such a long time, her joints cracked when she stood. Coco stretched, yawned and planted a long kiss on her mother’s dry lips. She then moistened her lips and her mothers. Coco struggled to leave her mother’s side. Glancing at the nurse’s face, she could tell what time it was—she couldn’t stay. Slowly Coco walked away.

  Street lights paved her way, reflecting from the blacktop and brightening her path. Coco was in her bop. The summer night’s air greeted her. Coco lit a cigarette, took a couple drags, and stomped it out with her Gucci sneakers. Headphones in her ear, her hands in her pockets, Coco slowly walked home.

  From the corner she heard the buzz and recognized their faces. Coco saw the same small crowd, the ones who never seemed to leave the front of the building. They were outside waiting like paparazzi when she arrived at her apartment building. Coco bopped through the hub of the crowd, and instantly became the topic of discussion.

  “Whaddup Coco…? You were all over the news, my girl,” a young kid said in between puffs on a blunt.

  He took another puff and attempted to pass the smoldering weed to Coco. She was about to reach out and accept it, but paused and just stared at the boy’s face.

  “I’m a chill, yo.”

  “You turning into a star, huh Coco Puff?”

  “Yeah, she all over the airwaves,” another kid said, sucking on the blunt.

  “Word, that new song banging on da radio, and girl you on da fuckin’ TV news…” The first kid said. “You a real star now, huh Coco…?”

  “Yeah, she slummin’ with real niggas. Can’t even hit the blunt and this good weed too,” another joined in laughing.

  “We not on your level, huh, Coco?”

  “Nah, nah, you got it all twisted, yo. It’s like this. First of all, I don’t smoke anything when I ain’t seen it being rolled. And second, I just came from visiting madukes and I ain’t feeling too good about that situation. You feel me? So you see it ain’t really like that, yo.”

  “Sorry to hear about your mom, Coco.”

  “Word, we totally forgot about that shit.”

  “Say hello to her when you visit her. We miss her.”

  Coco nodded and kept it moving. She was aware that the crowd was watching her going inside the building. Coco could hear the mumblings as they returned to their conversations.

  “No wonder that crack bitch ain’t been around—she in da hospital.”

  “Word, we miss that lil’ cheddar she used to bring us.”

  Coco was walking up the stairs, and the same sentiments echoed throughout the entire hallway. Those people outside either missed the money she spent buying their crack or they were used to getting high with her mother. She knew that no one really cared for the right reasons. Coco stopped her thoughts and opened the door to her mother’s apartment.

  As she walked into the two-bedroom apartment, she felt the chill of loneliness invading her body and headed to the kitchen. The place seemed empty. There was no way she could survive this cold spell in life without her mother. Coco stared outside the window and saw the reason it was difficult for her mother to leave the drug game. Street hustlers and pitchers were everywhere relentlessly laying their hustle down.

  Dealers were out stalking every potential customer on the corners and everyone entering the building. Any recovering addict was at the mercy of their greed. It was not a level playing field. Coco saw the users running between drug dealers who peddled their drug of choice. With her mother now in the hospital locked in a deadly battle for life, Coco grew blank.

  Placing the headphones over her ears, she pulled out her pen and pad. She sat at the kitchen table, lit a cigarette, and gathered her thoughts. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, she tried to write the lyrics playing in her mind. Coco continued to smoke and soon put the cigarette out. She walked to the living room, turned on the television, and plopped down into the sofa.

  “Fuck it,” she said, turning on the television.

  A cloud immediately crossed over Coco’s face when she saw the program. It was another episode of Sanford and Son. Her mother was always watching the sitcom. Coco’s thoughts were off and running again, and she couldn’t stop them. The sitcom about the lives of a father and son reminded her of the fact that she had no father. With the exception of Eric Ascot there was no solid male figure. Her thoughts made her body shiver with tension. The combination of a warm summer night in a lonely apartment caused her to steam with a slow anger.

  She had to do something. Coco got up and walked through the apartment to turn on the air conditioner. Thinking about her mother, she stood outside her bedroom door. Coco cautiously walked into her mother’s bedroom as if Rachel was in the apartment. She looked at the clothes hanging everywhere, and began searching the room. She went into her mother’s dresser drawers. While digging around, Coco found a bag. Inside there was a small glass pipe, residue, and a piece of rock.

  She grabbed the bag, stomped to the kitchen window and looked at the bustling crowd in front of the building. She saw that most of the hustlers were men and most of the customers were women. Anger built to a crescendo inside her. Her sensitivity was about to choke the life from her, and Coco had to release it. An explosion went off inside her as she held the bag of drug paraphernalia works above her head.

  “Here, you can have this back!” Coco shouted, raising the window, and tossing the bag out.

  “Whaddafuck! Shit almost hit me!” Someone shouted.

  “Who da fuck tossing shit out the window?” Another person shouted.

  “That shit was coming from the third floor over there!” Someone said, pointing to the window where Coco stood.

  “Hey yo, Coco. Is you going crazy, girl?”

  There was no answer and the crowd continued to stare up at the window. They were anticipating something coming back, but nothing came.

  “Yeah, that bitch getting crazier than her mother,” someone remarked.

  The small crowd had gathered then quickly went back to their hustle. Coco’s furious expression turned to a cynical smile, and she went to her bedroom. Pacing, she returned to the living room, sighed, and sat back on the sofa. Turning up the music in her headphones, she muted the volume of the television and closed her eyes.

  Her tears rolled while the antics of the sitcom provided laughter. Coco was devastated by the loss of companionship and the possibility of not ever regaining it. Her mother’s condition weighed heavy on her and Coco couldn’t help but think about it.

  “Dear God, please don’t take my mother…” Coco cried, praying.

  In the following days, Coco visited her mother at the hospital like clockwork. There were no changes and Coco returned home after every visit deep in depression. She would pass the people hanging out in front of the building with the same determined expression. And they would look at her as if she was going crazy.

  Besides daily conversation with Deedee, Coco was left to her sad and lonely thoughts. For a couple of weeks, daily visits to Harlem Hospital to see her mother were the only things occupying Coco’s days. Her mother’s condition deteriorated and tore into Coco’s heart. Despite Coco’s regular visits and daily prayers, Rachel Harvey’s condition remained dismal. Coco remained resolute and had a bold exterior, but while alone she was a worried teenager. She smoked regularly, but kept telling herself that she would soon quit.

  More weeks went by, and Coco awoke one morning to light a cigarette and walk into the bathroom. Glancing into the mirror above the sink, she told herself once again she had to give up all her bad habits. She had just sworn off doing all bad things when she heard her cell phone ringing. Coco sat on the toilet and thought about Deedee.

  “That’s the only person who could
be calling me this early…”

  3

  Deedee awoke early in the morning, and automatically checked her cell phone. There was a missed call and voicemail from Rightchus. She shook her head, and smirked as she put the phone down. Deedee pulled out the package with the pregnancy kit, and stared blankly at her reflection in the oversized bathroom mirror.

  Summer was moving rapidly, and the trial fast approaching. Eric woke up, showered and quickly got dressed in a lightweight dark-colored suit. He found Deedee sitting at the kitchen table as he rushed into the kitchen.

  “Dee, good morning,” he said, greeting with her a hug. “You’re up early.”

  “Yeah…”

  “You all right…? I mean, what’s the matter? Can’t sleep…?”

  “Something like that,” she answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “I’m sure if you eat some breakfast that’ll help.”

  “Maybe… I’ll get to it. Uncle E, you’re dressed and off already?” She asked, turning away from the huge television screen built into the wall.

  “Yeah, it’s gonna be one of those long days, Dee. I gotta meet with the attorney and find out what’s going on with the studio equipment. These people are cramping me. Anyway I’ll take care of it.”

  “Maybe you should wear a lighter color suit.”

  “Why you don’t like my suit?”

  “It’s not that I don’t like it. Maybe a lighter color will cheer up the day…”

  “Oh…?”

  “Yes, this one makes you look dark and gloomy.”

  “So you think I should change?”

  “Not really since you seemed to be in a rush.”

  “Okay, this once I’ll change.”

  Eric Ascot slipped out of his jacket as he walked away. Deedee burst into tears, and wiped them from her eyes before her uncle returned. Dressed in a lighter colored suit, Eric spun around for her and Deedee smiled.

  “I like that better,” she smiled.

  “So what you do have planned for today?”

  “Well… Ah, I think I’ll drive over and see Coco later on or something.”

  “Remember no spending spree. Be careful, there are people watching your every move,” Eric Ascot said, and turned to walk out the door.

  “You be careful too Uncle E.”

  She watched the door close and knew there was security around. Eric, concerned about safety, had taken the bull by the horns, lining up a two-man security team downstairs. Her safety wasn’t so much on Deedee’s mind as the urge to shop. For once in her life Deedee faced the possibility of not being able to spend money freely. Her charge card and her ability to shop had been curtailed.

  Her sadness seemed to start with that night she was raped. Everything seemed to have gone downhill from that point. Sighing, Deedee tried to shake the thought. It always made her depressed, but at other times she had been able to go on a wild shopping spree, which would offer temporary refuge. Not now. She walked to her room-sized closet and yawned. There were enough racks of designer clothing and shoes hanging in unopened boxes to clothe a tiny island of teen girls. It definitely wasn’t a need for clothes that made Deedee yearn to shop. It was the escape from a painful reality that the whole process offered.

  Acquiring new things seemed to have the effect of refreshing her. Not having that luxury worsened her feelings of depression. Deedee feigned a smile. Luckily her uncle had bought her the new car. But then the car made her think of the explosion at the Hamptons mansion, and of Reggie’s death. Deedee tried to control the feeling of guilt tormenting her as she reminisced.

  She was naked, curled up, quietly asleep and Reggie moved closer to her. The rising of her breasts from her quiet breathing turned him on. He bent over and kissed her. She stirred and locked her lips with Reggie’s.

  His hands wasted no time in searching her supple body. A smile suddenly spread across Reggie’s face when his fingers made contact with her treasured spot. She was juicy with anticipation. Her legs wiggled free and he tried to enter her, but Deedee was ready and slipped her leg around his, blocking his entry.

  “You’ve gotta use a condom. This time it’s for real,” Deedee firmly said.

  “Babe, it’s early I’ll get it later,” Reggie said, kissing her softly. “But I don’t need a condom to do this,” he continued and immediately flipped her over.

  Before Deedee could protest she felt his tongue on her clit. Reggie sucked at her pussy lips, and Deedee’s muscles relaxed. Her juices flowed.

  “Oh no…” she moaned. Her sounds faded to unintelligibly uttering as Reggie’s tongue penetrated deep inside her. “Uh… Oh ugh…”

  She felt her legs kicking involuntarily and Deedee grabbed his head. She pulled at his hair and a scream gurgled in her throat.

  “Oh please oh please stop…Oh no…”

  Reggie kept munching and sucking. His fingers tickled the entrance to her asshole sending shivers all through Deedee’s spine. Her body wiggled and she held on tightly to Reggie’s head and exploded in his face.

  “Ooh… Ooh… Ah… Ah… Oh yes!”

  Deedee’s naked body opened like a flower and Reggie hovered over her, kissing and sucking her nectar. He licked his lips heartily. A combination of his sweat mixing with her juices filled his palate. Reggie wanted more and tried to shove his hard dick into her, but again she moved her legs and blocked him.

  “You did that shit last night, and that was on me. You’re not gonna get anymore unless you get a condom.”

  “Your uncle don’t got any stashed—”

  “What? Reggie, go to the store and get a pack. Or you’ll be going home without getting anymore. I swear!”

  “A’ight cool, I’ll do what you say. But babe, how am I gonna get to the store? I don’t have a car, and you gave what’s-her-name your ride.”

  “I gave Kim may car to get home. Also to take your shit-talking friend Tina outta my head,” Deedee said and hopped out of the bed.

  Reggie’s eyes closely followed her nude body as she walked to the window, and back the bed, sliding into the sheets. Deedee smiled at him and said, “Uncle Eric’s Jag’s there. If you promise not to wreck it you can use it to go to the store.”

  “Do you have directions to one that’s open this early?”

  “It’s seven in the morning. It’s not that early. Just stay on this street and you won’t miss a small shopping district with a service station.”

  “In a Jag that should be about five minutes,” Reggie smiled, playfully.

  “Boy don’t you wreck my uncle’s car.”

  “Where the keys…?”

  Again Deedee got of the bed and walked outside. A few minutes later, she returned and said, “Check inside the car. Uncle E. More than likely left them there.”

  “Damn ain’t he scared that someone steals it or sump’n…?”

  “That’s my uncle. He believes in playing it like that.”

  Reggie quickly stole a kiss and before walking out, turned back to ask, “You need anything…?”

  Deedee smiled before responding. “You’re thoughtful, huh?” she said with a grin. “Cool… Surprise me.”

  “I will do that,” he smiled.

  He kissed her again before walking out. This time he stared deep into Deedee’s soft brown eyes and gently touched her lips with his. She pulled him close to her breasts and kissed him hungrily, moving her tongue against his. The ferocity of her passion consumed him causing Reggie to fall in a heap on top of her. He held her close, until his breath came in gasps. Mustering enough strength, Reggie managed to push away from Deedee’s captivating presence.

  “Hold onto that for now. I’ll be back soon,” he smiled.

  “Be back soon,” she smiled, blowing him a kiss.

  He ran out of the room and headed down the stairs. Reggie saw that someone was in the mansion cleaning, and he kept it moving. Pushing the door open, Reggie was off running down the long driveway to the garage on the far side.

  Deedee chuckled from her
window watching him run. He opened the door and gave her the thumbs up. She smiled that he had spotted her watching him. Deedee was about to walk away from the window when a loud explosion rocked the entire mansion.

  The morning sky erupted into golden flames as soon as Reggie had turned on the ignition. Deedee eyes widened in surprise and her mouth dropped opened but no sound came. The car had exploded killing Reggie. She found herself pointing and staring at the fire as pieces of the luxury car blew off in the explosion. Fire raged and alarms went off, neighbors were running from their homes. Deedee lost control and started screaming.

  It had been a couple of weeks now and the memory deepened her depression. She tried to stop the images from coming, but couldn’t. She felt sadness surge through her being. The rush of emotion made her want to cry some more.

  “I must think of all the goodness this situation can bring,” she smiled, nodding.

  She hastily did her morning stretches. After couple sets of push-ups and sit-ups Deedee walked back to her bedroom with a sense of relief. The fact that her uncle had finally put the mansion on the selling block brought some bittersweet relief. Deedee’s father who was Eric’s older brother had purchased the mansion in the Hamptons.

  He had been shot to death in his car seven years ago. Since then Deedee had always shared the mansion with his brother, her uncle, Eric Ascot. Now she felt she could never return there, even though it was one of the last places her father had resided and held special memories. But those recollections were tarnished by Reggie Mills’ untimely death. Deedee sensed her dark depression closing in. Seeking refuge, she hurriedly pulled out her cell phone and dialed Coco’s number. After a few rings she heard the voice of her best friend.

  “Hey Dee… So wassup yo…?”

  “Hey Coco, how’re you?”

  “Chillin’, but how you really doing, yo? How’d the test go? ”

  “I’ll tell you in person…”

  “Okay, bet.”

  “I’m coming to get you, Coco. Let’s hang out.”

  “You mean you can’t tell me on the phone, yo?”