Stalker

by Brenda Hampton

Brent was seething with anger as two officers pulled his arms behind his back, cuffing him.

  I stood, forcing tears to come out of my eyes. It was an Oscar-winning performance, especially when I stretched out my hand to him, expressing how sorry I was. “Please don’t be upset with me,” I said. “All I want is the best for yoooou.”

  “Fuck you!” he hissed as they pulled him out of the courtroom. “And this isn’t over with, Abby. I can promise you that!”

  The judge was disgusted, as was everyone else in the courtroom who looked on in disbelief. He wrapped the case up when he gave me a $500 fine for trespassing on school property. I didn’t mind paying the fine. Seeing Brent in handcuffs was certainly enough satisfaction for me.

  I left the courtroom on cloud nine. That was . . . until the elevator opened and I felt a tightened fist slam right into my mouth. The punch was so powerful that it knocked me on my ass. I skidded backward, and that was when I saw Lajuanna jump on top of me like a raging tiger. She held my throat while lifting my head and banging it on the ground.

  “Bitch, I will kill you, you hear me! If you come to my house again, you are one dead woman!”

  I cried out in so much pain. My head was hurting, my brain was rattled.

  “Stop it!” I heard a woman yell. “Get your hands off her!”

  “Oh my God! She’s going to kill her! Somebody, help!”

  Lajuanna was a madwoman. She slapped my face, then stood to kick me. I cradled myself on the floor, with my hands over my face, trying to protect it.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot!” an officer yelled. “Back away from her now!”

  Lajuanna was out of breath as she backed away from me. With pride in her eyes, she grinned as she held her hands behind her back, glaring at me.

  I sat up, feeling blood stirring in my mouth and with a very sore head.

  “How did that feel?” she asked as the cop handcuffed her. “And if you want more of that, you know where to find me.”

  The cop pulled her away, while another one stayed to get a statement from me. There were several witnesses and also onlookers who lined the stairs by the elevators, wondering what in the hell had just happened. I was embarrassed and sore all over. The cop asked if I needed a doctor, but I declined. After he took my statement, I was able to leave. I walked to my car in pain, and unfortunately for me, when I got there, my windshield had been cracked again. I figured Lajuanna must have done it, but she was, undeniably, going to pay for it.

  As I sat in my car, I wiped blood from my mouth with tissue I had in the glove compartment. I wiped my face with the tissue too, and then lifted my shirt to see if there were any bruises on my side because it hurt so badly. All I saw was some of my skin that was raw and bleeding. It had turned red. I predicted that a bruise would appear later—an ugly bruise at that.

  I started my car, and before I drove off, I picked up my cell phone to see if Kendal had called me. She hadn’t, so I sent her a text message, telling her to come home. She replied by the time I reached the stoplight. Her reply was: No.

  I was pissed off. Seeing Brent in handcuffs wasn’t enough to calm me. Seeing his wife in handcuffs didn’t help either, but maybe something else would. I drove to their house. And using the same key that I never returned to the hidden spot on the porch, I opened the door and went inside, as if I lived there myself.

  The first thing I did was find a clean shirt to put on, since mine was bloody. Lajuanna had some nice items hanging in the closet, so I chose a silk green blouse that buttoned down the front. The color is what caught my eyes. So did some of her other clothes. Like a jazzy-orange dress that was pleated at the bottom, a white suit with tiny diamond studs on the cuffs, and a pair of jeans that were pretty darn expensive. I even saw some shoes that I liked. But when I tried them on, her feet were much smaller than mine. I gathered the items I wanted and laid them in a chair. Afterward, I changed my shirt in the bathroom, and used a clean white cloth to wipe my swollen lip and face. I looked in the mirror with anger in my eyes. My lip was real puffy. That bitch had to pay for this.

  As I looked around and opened a few drawers, I found a pair of scissors. I went back into the closet, cutting up her clothes, as well as some of his. It took me awhile, but when all was said and done, the closet was nothing pretty. Shreds of their clothes hung from hangers, and many were cut and thrown on the floor. I swiped my hands together.

  “Looks good to me,” I said and turned my attention to their messy bed.

  The stains let me know that they’d probably had sex this morning. Brent was such a damn horny dog. I couldn’t help but to laugh when I’d thought about his performance at the courthouse. It was stupid of him not to tell his wife I had been here. The look on both of their faces was priceless. Nevertheless, no lawyer was needed and the verdict was in. Both of them were in jail—right where they belong.

  And since they wouldn’t be coming home soon, I continued to make a disaster of the place. I used the scissors in my hand to cut their sheets. I stabbed the mattress and sliced the pillows. Feathers rained everywhere, all over me, as well as on the floor. Almost satisfied with my work, I swayed my hand across their dresser, making everything on top hit the floor. Several bottles of their fragrances cracked open and spilled. It was a little mess, but certainly not enough.

  “Ding, ding,” I said as a little bell went off in my head. “Now, that’s a good idea.” I went to both bathrooms, turning on the water to fill the tub. As water filled in the second tub, I gazed at it with a glass of wine in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Brent always had the good stuff, and red wine was his favorite. I drank a little, and then poured the rest in the tub. I put the glass in my purse, and as water started to spill over the tub and flood the floor, I laughed. I took several more puffs from the cigarette, and before things got too messy, I locked the door on my way out, just in case somebody tried to break in.

  For real, this time, I was finally pleased.

  Chapter Eleven

  I hadn’t heard from Brent or his wife for almost two weeks now. Hadn’t heard much from Kendal either. It was obvious that she didn’t want to be here with me. I begged her to come home so we could talk, but she felt as if she was grown and talking to her mother was beneath her. Sometimes, lessons had to be learned. Kendal was going to get a big lesson behind this. I let her stay right where she wanted, for now, but, sooner or later, she would have to deal with me.

  Meanwhile, I had gotten my car windshield fixed, again, and it was back to work for me. I didn’t have much time off left, and trust me when I say, I hated to return to work. The second I arrived, I was asked by upper management to go see Mrs. Thiele. She was an old, Goody Two-shoes trick who I couldn’t stand. She acted as if she owned the place, and she was always looking at me with jealousy in her eyes.

  “Have a seat, Abigail,” she said. “I’m glad you’re back because I need to discuss some things with you.”

  I wasn’t sure what she wanted to discuss until she started talking about a report that I had been stealing from the store and selling merchandise on the streets. She claimed to have evidence. When I asked to see it, she refused to show it to me.

  “Not only that, but we’ve had numerous complaints about your behavior. Several customers called and spoke about how nasty you were toward them. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this is unacceptable. We won’t be pressing charges against you for the merchandise, but we’ve decided to terminate your employment with us, effective immediately.”

  My mouth was wide open. “Are you serious? I’ve been here for years, Mrs. Thiele. Not once have I taken anything, and I’ve always worked my ass off. That’s why, when the management position became available, I had no problem getting the job. I’ve never had any complaints, and if I wanted to steal clothes from here, I would have done it a long time ago. I’ve been on vacation for a few weeks, so how can someone complain about me when I haven’t even been here?”

  “They did complain, and they’ve been complaining for a l
ong time. Now, I’ve said all there is to say about this, and I will say no more. Other than thanks for your service and good-bye, Ms. Wilson. Good luck.”

  I wanted to jump over the desk and beat her ass! Instead, I stood, held my head up high, and tucked my purse underneath my arm.

  “Good luck to you too, Mrs. Thiele. May you go straight to hell, old bitch.”

  Her mouth dropped opened as I walked out. I figured she would do everything in her power to hold my final check. If she did, that would mean trouble for her.

  Sickened by being fired, I drove home in a daze. Things seemed to be falling apart, and, yes, I knew karma was a bitch. No question, I had done some dirty mess. But Brent pushed me to the edge like no one had ever done before. It was the only way for me to get him back. I was done with him, but that didn’t stop me from driving by his house to see what was up. This time, however, his house looked different. There were no curtains or blinds covering the windows. No cars were in the driveway, and mail was sticking out of the mailbox. The plants on the porch were gone, grass was a little high, and the house, basically, looked deserted. I parked my car, and when I went to a window to look inside, it was empty. Every last piece of furniture was gone. They had moved. I wondered where to. Had he moved out of town or was he still in St. Louis? I surely wanted to know, and since it was Monday, I intended to drop by the pool hall tonight to see if he would be there.

  For now, though, my new job search was on. I had some money saved up, but not enough where I could just sit at home and do nothing. I updated my résumé and printed a few copies. I then searched the Internet for job sites that allowed me to upload my résumé and send it right to the company I was interested in. My management status opened the door to many opportunities. I expected to hear back from someone soon.

  Around one o’clock, I started to feel hungry. A salad from Arby’s sounded good, so I reached for my purse and keys so I could go. I locked my door, then got in my car, cranking up the music. But just as I was almost a mile down the street, I heard a gulping sound that made me lower the volume. I looked on the floor as well as on my seats. The sound continued, and when I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw what looked to be some type of iguana with green, scaly skin and beady eyes looking right at me. It wasn’t small either; I didn’t know if it was going to jump on me or not. I slammed my car in park, rushing out as quickly as I could. The iguana turned his head and started snaking his tongue in and out of his mouth. He used his claws to move from one side of my car to the other. My flesh crawled. I hated animals like this. I damn near wanted to run, but I had to get him out of my car. Nobody whatsoever was around. Not even the person who had put the thing there. I was forced to open the back doors to my car and deal with it.

  “Out,” I said, shooing it away with my purse. “Get out and go somewhere else.”

  The damn thing kept looking at me and didn’t move. His long tail did, however, but those beady eyes had a lock on me.

  “Damn it,” I said, looking around. I saw a young white boy coming down the street on a hoverboard. I waved my hands in the air to get his attention. “Excuse me. Can you please come over here and help me?”

  He rolled right up to me, and then jumped off the board. “What’s up?”

  “Do you see that thing in my car? Can you please remove it for me? It’s pretty scary to me.”

  He looked inside the car, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. “Oh my God. That thing is a beauty. How did it get in your car?”

  I had an idea, but now wasn’t the time to say it. “I don’t know. I just opened my door, and there it was.”

  “That’s pretty cool, man. It’s an iguana. You don’t see many of those around here, unless someone has it as a pet.”

  The last thing I wanted was an educational lesson on iguanas. The look I gave the young man implied just that. He reached in the car, carefully picked it up, and laid it across the palm of his hand.

  “Hi there, little one,” he said, talking to it as if it were a baby. This was crazy. I couldn’t believe how unafraid the boy was.

  “I’ll take him to my house and call animal control. I may ask around too, to see if anyone is missing a pet.”

  “Thank you so much.” I reached into my purse to give him some money. I touched a fifty-dollar bill, but considering I was out of a job, I reached for a twenty. “Here you go. I hope you find a home for that thing. Good luck.”

  He smiled and took the money from my hand. As the iguana rested on his arm, the boy rolled off on the hoverboard again. I shook my head, already suspecting who had put that in my car. It was either Brent or his wife. If they wanted to keep this up, so be it. I just needed to find out where they lived and find out fast.

  After the ordeal with the iguana was over, I got my salad and returned home. This time, someone had sprayed red paint on my white garage doors. The letters WHORE were scripted on it, and just so no one would see it, I rushed out of my car and raised my garage door. Unlike Brent and his wife, I wasted no time calling the police to report the incident. An officer was there within ten minutes. And, to my surprise, it was Officer Wayne. The same officer I had spoken to at the station, on Kendal’s birthday.

  “Good afternoon,” he said, removing his dark sunglasses that shielded his hooded eyes.

  He was so sexy to me—his uniform was a perfect fit for his muscular frame. Right about now, I could have taken him into my house and screwed his brains out, just to release some of my tension.

  “What seems to be the problem here?”

  I sighed. “Unfortunately, I think my ex-boyfriend is at it again. We went to court a few weeks ago, and he was given jail time for his behavior. I’m sure he’s upset, and that’s why he did this to my garage. He also put an iguana in my car this morning. I almost died, and thankfully, one of the kids around here removed it for me.”

  I lowered the garage to show him what I was talking about. He shook his head. “Why don’t you get a restraining order against this man? You really need to start there and have him served.”

  “Served where? He moved. I don’t know where he lives, and that benefits him.” I started to get emotional. Just wanted a little comfort right now.

  He appeared very sympathetic. “Everything will be okay. What did you say the gentleman’s name was?” He removed a notepad from his pocket, as well as a pen. When his pen didn’t work, he asked if I had one he could use.

  “Yes, I do. It’s inside. You can follow me.”

  I purposely swayed my hips from side to side, making sure he got a glimpse of my booty. After we went inside, I opened a drawer in the kitchen, pulling out a pen.

  “Here you go,” I said, handing it to him. “His name is Brent Carson. His wife’s name is Lajuanna Carson. She’s involved in the harassment too. And she was arrested as well for jumping on me at the courthouse.”

  I told him most of what had happened since I’d left the police station that day. I even mentioned how everything had gone in court. He was very much tuned in, especially when I answered my phone and no one said anything.

  “See? This is the kind of stuff that just keeps on happening. I feel so trapped by Brent. I live here alone, and I’m so afraid that he’s going to come here and do something to me.”

  “Just because he moved, it doesn’t mean he can’t be found. I’ll see what I can find out. Meanwhile, go get that restraining order. I’ll also drive by every now and then, just to make sure everything is okay. My name is Eric. Don’t be alarmed when you see my car outside. I just want to keep my eyes on things.”

  “Thank you so much. I will feel much safer. And if there is anything that I can do for you . . . any more information I can provide, please let me know.”

  His eyes shifted to my breasts, and then to my face. “I’ll let you know,” he said, before turning to leave.

  I just wanted to squeeze my hands on his nice ass and take him to my bedroom. Time and patience, though, were very much needed.

  After he left, I went to Home Depot t
o get some white paint for my garage. Clinton was on my mind, so I drove to his apartment to see if he would paint the garage for me, so I didn’t have to. Like clockwork, he was outside. He did a lot of hanging around, doing nothing. I guessed with a woman like Velma, what other choice did he have?

  I parked my car, but before I got out, he came up to it. He didn’t look excited to see me. I assumed he was unhappy about me not picking him up that Saturday.

  “I wish that when you say you gon’ doing something, that you would stop tripping and just do it. I had my hopes up, and I was damn sure looking forward to making some extra money.”

  “Get in the car and stop griping,” I said. “You’re starting to sound like Velma. I have a good explanation, if you want to hear it.”

  Clinton got in the car to hear me out.

  “I lost my job, okay? Had to deal with my ex in court and my daughter ran away from home. There’s been a lot going on. The last thing I needed to think about was getting my basement fixed up. I’m sorry about the money thing, but at this point, I’m not really sure if I will have anything extra to get my basement done. I do, however, have a small project that you can do to earn fifty bucks. Somebody spray painted the word whore on my garage. It needs to be painted, so if you could do that for me, I really would appreciate it.”

  There was a toothpick in his mouth. He pulled it out and nodded his head. “I can do that, but I warned you about that ex of yours. That cat’s crazy.”

  “Yes, he is. He and his wife. I’m sure she’s the one who did it.”

  “Maybe so, but don’t let him off the hook. He probably put her up to it. Regardless, when do you want it taken care of?”

  “Like right now. I can’t leave my garage down with that word on it. In any neighborhood, especially mine, something like that is pretty embarrassing.”

  “I’m sure it is. And I apologize for the way I acted. It’s just that I thought I’d make some good money on a project like framing your basement. I kind of got my hopes up real high.”