“Oh, shit, is that you Jessica?”
The minute he walked up to them, Jessica smelled a strong, musty odor emitting from his body. The clothes he had on were well worn and tattered, and he looked as if he hadn’t showered or changed his clothes in months. “What’s up, sis?” he said to Vonda, as he jumped nervously from toe to toe. He shifted his attention back to Jessica and smiled, revealing his yellow, decaying teeth.
Jessica couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Since she known him he was always a sharp and immaculate dresser and was always the first person to offer her and the other girls money for school.
He saw Jessica’s reaction and conceded to shame. “I know I look a li’l bad right now, but I’m gonna get myself together this week and go in one of them programs,” he said, trying his best to reassure them. He looked away and said, “Listen, Jess, I know you just got out, but you think you can spare a couple dollars to get something to eat?”
Vonda could no longer look at him because she knew he was lying. Many days he’d made such promises to his sister only to disappoint her by lying and taking the money she gave him to buy some more drugs. She tried in vain to get him to go in a program, only to have him not show up at all. She’d lost all trust in him and it hurt her deeply.
Jessica immediately reached in her pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. He looked at the bill as if it were a poisonous snake. She extended the bill out to him and he quickly snatched the bill and walked off in frenzy in case she realized she had made a mistake.
“Oh, thanks Jess,” he hollered, “I’m, I’m gonna pay you back too, soon as I get my welfare check.”
They watched him with sadness as he rounded the corner, knowing exactly what he was going to do with the money. All Jessica could think of at that moment was getting home to see her little brother.
**********
Jessica’s mother had lost the family brownstone years ago because of the second mortgage, and Mrs. Jones now rented a two-bedroom apartment nearby on 142nd Street between Lenox and 7th Avenue.
Vonda walked Jessica to 142nd Street and gave her her number and promised to get up with her the next day. They said their goodbyes and Jessica reached in her pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper with 141 W 142nd street written on it and proceeded down the block. When Jessica finally got to building 141, she immediately grew uneasy. Never in her life did she recall living in such squalor. She watched a group of men standing menacingly on the stoop as people walked in and out of the building. She reached in her pocket for the address that she had written down and looked at it again, somehow hoping that she had it wrong. She cursed. She took a deep breath and walked toward the building and up the stairs.
She was immediately accosted by young thugs, who asked her, “How many you want, baby?”
“What’s up baby, you want a hit?”
Some were even more blatant and asked, “How many of these thangs you want to suck this dick, baby?”
Jessica didn’t say a word and proceeded up the staircase to apartment 3F. Along the way, she passed a female addict giving another man a blow job right on the staircase landing. Jessica walked past them with disgust—they didn’t even have the common courtesy to stop what they were doing and continued as if she wasn’t even there. Jessica arrived on the dank, barely lit third floor and looked around in anguish. She paused and looked at the decaying walls and worn floors and searched for apartment 3F. When she found it, she inhaled deeply and smelled the pungent odor of dried urine and immediately wanted to vomit. She wiped her nose, closed her eyes, then knocked on the apartment door. Jessica knocked harder after no one responded, and that was when she heard her mother’s voice.
“Get away from my door, Jordan; I’m not letting you in. Now go away!”
“Ma, it’s me, Jessica.” Jessica heard footsteps approach, then the peephole latch slide.
“Jessica?” asked Mrs. Jones, who still didn’t fully recognize her only daughter.
“Yeah, Ma, it’s me.”
Jessica heard her mother unlatching a multitude of locks. Finally, she stared in her mother’s face, which she hadn’t seen in over six years since her father’s funeral. Her mother had aged badly, she thought. They stood in the doorway unsure of what to do next, so Jessica made the first move and put her arms around her mother. They hugged briefly and pulled away just as fast.
Jessica smiled awkwardly until her mother opened the door wider and said, “Well, come on in.”
When Jessica walked in the apartment, she looked around and noticed that it was sparse, but clean, just as her mother had always kept her home. She showed her to the living room and offered her a seat on the sofa and sat across from her on what Jessica recognized as her father’s favorite chair.
There was an uncomfortable moment of silence until her mother inquired, “Why didn’t you let me know you were getting out? I would have had things prepared for you.”
Jessica only shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you.”
Her mother nodded.
Jessica looked at an old picture of her and her family on the wall and asked, “So, where is Jordan?”
Her mother shook her head wearily, exposing a valley of worry marks on forehead. She let out a huge sigh. “Jessica, I don’t know where your brother is. He done changed for the worse by getting himself messed up on drugs.”
Jessica could see that it was very hard for her mother to talk about him, but she needed to know everything.
“So, he doesn’t stay here anymore?” Jessica asked.
Her mother shook her head and admitted, “No, I put him out over six months ago and won’t let him back in until he gets himself some help.”
“So, you had to put him out, Ma? You couldn’t just, you know, let him stay here instead of being on the streets with nowhere to go?”
Her mother stared at Jessica and answered, “Now, Jessica, this is something that you just don’t know about yet. You have been away for a long time. You don’t know what it’s like out here. I gave your brother hundreds of opportunities to stay here, but each time I gave him a chance the worse he got. He steals, lies, and heaven knows what else just to get money for drugs, and I got sick of it. First he started off asking me for money all the time, then I noticed my things coming up missing—money, jewelry, even meat from the freezer.”
Her mother shook her head as she thought back. “He just started not to care anymore on how he gets it and after a while I began becoming afraid of him. When I tell him I’m not giving him any more money . . .” She looked Jessica square in the eyes and said, “I swear I think he would kill me just to get the money.”
Jessica began to think about the conversations she’d had with the girls in prison and how it was exactly how they explained when a person get hooked on crack. Jessica only remained silent and continued to listen to her mother, knowing that she might be right.
“Everything was one big lie after another. Then one day I come home and opened the door and everything was gone—the televisions, electronics, clothing, everything.”
Jessica looked around and for the first time noticed that there wasn’t a television in the living room. Jessica shook her head, not wanting to believe any of it, but her mother continued.
“That boy even sold the refrigerator out the kitchen, Jessica, and I can’t take it anymore. I’m afraid to be in my own house. Whenever I confront him about anything he yells and curses at me to mind my business. I sleep with my bedroom door locked and sleep with my money in my bra whenever I go to bed. Then one night I woke up and caught him with his hand down my bra trying to steal the money, and when I caught him he ripped my bra and took the money and ran out of the house.”
Jessica put her head down, not wanting to believe what she had just heard. She became angry and rose to her feet. “So, where is he at now, Mama?”
Mrs. Jones shook her head and said, “I don’t know. He comes by here from time to time asking for some money, but I tell him to go away because I’m sick of al
l the lies and stealing whenever I did give him a chance.” She looked at her daughter and said “Jessica, that stuff that they got out there is...is bad. Promise me that you will not touch that stuff or you going to turn out just like the rest of them. You hear me?” Jessica nodded. That settled her mother down a little and she asked, “So, you going to be staying here awhile?”
Jessica looked around and said, “Yes.”
Her mother nodded and stood up and said, “You can take Jordan’s room. I’ll change the bedding for you, ok? I also have an extra set of keys for you that I’ll give to you later.”
Jessica thanked her.
Her mother exhaled and told her, “I’ll take something out for dinner and we’ll catch up on things a little later.”
As she was walking off, Jessica said “Mama . . .”
Mrs. Jones turned around to face her. Jessica eyed the floor and then lifted her head and said, “Thank you, Mama.”
Her mother gave her a light smile and a nod and walked down the hall to prepare her room.
Since Jessica had to be at the parole office in the morning she turned in early so she could check in with him in midtown Manhattan. She vowed that she would do whatever it took to keep her nose clean and not go back to prison. As she lay in bed that night, all she could think of was hitting the streets the next day to search for her brother.
**********
After she met with her parole officer, she was basically told to check in monthly, stay out of trouble, and to find a job.
“One last thing. If you violate any conditions of your parole at any time, you will be arrested and will have to finish out the six months you owe the state. Do you understand?”
Jessica nodded and was out of his office in five minutes.
When she arrived back uptown she walked aimlessly through the streets of Harlem in search of her brother Jordan. She searched for hours and finally gave up hope of finding him that day, deciding to go home and try again tomorrow. When she got to her building she saw a group of guys tossing another man around and to the ground. The closer she got the more familiar the man on the ground had become—it was Jordan. She gritted her teeth and rushed to his side and pushed the men off of her brother.
“Get the fuck off of him!” she yelled. All the boys backed off as they watched the tall pretty girl help their victim to his feet. She took him by his arm and began leading him up the stoop stairs when one of the boys blocked them from entering the building.
“Oh, hell, no,” said the man as he held up his hand. “This nigga ain’t going anywhere until he pays me my fuckin’ money.”
Jessica looked at the man, then at her brother and asked, “You owe them any money, Jordan?”
He nodded his head, too ashamed to face her.
“How much you owe him?” Jessica demanded.
“Twenty dollars,” he answered shyly.
Jessica reached in her pocket and pulled out a wad of money and found a twenty-dollar bill and shoved it in the man’s chest and said, “Take this shit.” She looked him square in the eye. “Now you are paid, so you better leave my brother alone,” Jessica said, never losing eye contact with him.
“Well, twenty dollars is not enough. I put interest on it so he owes me double.”
Jessica stepped closer to the man and said point blank, “That’s all the money you getting, so if you want more you are gonna have to take it.”
The man was caught off guard by the challenge and didn’t know what to say. Jessica knew from her experience in jail that he was just a talker and wasn’t a gangster. She decided to make it clear to everyone around. “This here is mines right here. If I find out you selling him any more of your drugs or trying fuck with him y’all gonna have to fuck with me and I’m ready to die for this shit. This is the building where my mother stays and I’m staying here now, too. Tomorrow, I don’t want to see none of y’all selling your shit in my building, and if I do I’m either going back to jail or you will. Make your choice.”
The boys had little doubt that she was serious. Jessica looked each and every one of them in their eyes to show she meant just that. She grabbed her brother by the arm and brushed past the man and into the building.
Walking up the stairs Jordan was shaking like a leaf and started explaining to his older sister. “Jessica, I, I don’t think it’s such a good idea to threaten them like that. They carry guns and . . .”
Jessica stopped and turned to her brother and threw him up against the wall. “Jordan, they are the last motherfuckers you need to be worrying about! You need to be worrying about me kicking your fucking ass for doing what you did to Mama!”
With a nervous twitch he stared into his sister’s eyes and lowered his head in shame. Jessica towered over her weakly and frail brother, who looked as if he hadn’t eaten in month. Jessica released him and grabbed him by his collar up the remaining flights of stairs and into the apartment. She pushed him into the living room.
“Sit down, Jordan.”
He looked around the bare apartment and asked in a low tone, “Is Mama home?”
“No, she is not home yet.”
He looked around, still nervous and admitted, “You, know she don’t want me here, right? You know she put me out?”
“Why she don’t want you here, Jordan?” Jessica hissed. “Tell me why she put you out?”
Still finding it hard to control her anger, she stopped pacing and stood in front of him and yelled, “Because you robbed her fucking blind, Jordan, just to smoke that shit! You stole her televisions, radios, and food.”
She looked down upon him with disgust and said, “You even went in her room and stole money from out of her bra, Jordan. Her bra?”
Jordan sat motionless and ashamed of what he had done.
“Jordan, Mama is afraid to have you around because she thinks you may hurt her. She thinks that her own son, the one who supposed to protect her, the one she raised, will one day kill her if she doesn’t give you money.”
Jordan looked away as his eyes became watery and reality of it all began to set in.
Jessica walked over to him and got on one knee. “Jordan, I’m telling you right now that I will not let that happen. Before I let you hurt Mama or see you hurt yourself like you doing, I’d rather see you dead. And Jordan,” Jessica lifted his chin so he could see directly into her eyes, “believe me when I tell you, I will do it.”
They stared into each other eyes a few seconds longer until Jordan began to break down. “I can’t take this shit anymore, Jessica, I can’t take it!” he cried. “This crack shit got me fucked up and I don’t know how to stop. I, I tried to stop but this shit keeps calling me back. I don’t know how to stop, Jessica. I need your help, Jessica, I need your help!”
Suddenly, Jessica saw the little brother of old in him and she began to break down too. She got up and sat next to him and hugged him for dear life as they cried together like it would be their last.
“I’m going to help you, but you got to be willing to help yourself.” Jessica pulled away from him. “Look at me, Jordan.”
He wiped his eyes and lifted his head.
Jessica grasped her brother’s hand. “You got to go away into one of those programs. That’s the only way I’m willing to help you. You hear me?”
Jordan thought about it for a moment then nodded his head.
Jessica smiled and said, relieved, “Ok, all we got to do now is make a few phone calls.”
Jessica stood up and went to the phone and opened up the yellow pages. She made about twelve phone calls before she finally found the right one. After they spoke for over twenty minutes and finalized everything, she hung up. She looked at Jordan and smiled.
“Well, it’s done. They got a bed waiting for you in the morning where you go into detox first for about ten days. Then after that you fly to Minnesota into this thing called a Therapeutic Community which lasts for eighteen to twenty-four months.”
“Minnesota, Jessica? Twenty-four months?” yelled Jordan.
“What else do you got to do, Jordan? You need to get out of Harlem anyway. These people are going to save your life. You said yourself that you need help because you don’t know how to stop on your own. So either that or die on those streets.” Jessica waited for a response from her little brother.
He thought about it for a long while and finally answered, “All right, I’ll go.”
Jessica smiled.
“Where am I gonna stay till the morning, because Mama ain’t gonna want me here.”
“Don’t worry about Mama. I’m going to take care of that.” Jessica frowned and said, “In the meantime, I want you to get in the bathroom and take a bath. You stink.”
Jordan looked at the clothing he wore laughed. “You right, I haven’t changed in weeks.”
Jessica stood up and said, “You still got clean underwear and clothes in your room. I’ll get you some.”
As she was walking away Jordan called out, “Jessica.”
She turned.
He continued softly, “I missed you, and I’m glad you home.”
Jessica smiled and nodded. “Thanks. I missed you too.”
When Mrs. Jones got home Jordan was at the kitchen table eating the dinner that Jessica had prepared for the family. Jessica met her at the door as soon as she heard her key enter the lock.
“Hey Mama,” said Jessica as she opened the door for her to pass. “Let me help you with your bags.” Jessica took them out of her hands.
Her mother frowned when she entered the living room and asked, “What is that smell? It smells funky in here.” She walked into the kitchen and paused when she saw her son at the dinner table and turned toward Jessica. “I want him out of this house right now, Jessica.”
Harlem Girl Lost 2 Page 11
