by Kiki Swinson
After we hugged, I stepped across the doorway and moved out of the way so she could close the front door behind us. “Where is Carmen?” I asked.
“She’s upstairs trying to prevent her mama from wearing her clothes. Go ahead on up there,” Grandma replied.
I looked up at the flight of stairs before me and began to dread even climbing one of them. They looked so fragile and weak, it was pathetic. I feared that I might fall right through the board of one of them if I pressed hard enough.
“Whatcha waiting for? Go ahead on up there,” she urged.
“Can you call her for me?”
“Child, she ain’t gon’ hear me ’cause she got her door closed. So, go on up there.”
“All right,” I said, and put my right foot on the bottom step. I took my time to climb each and every step but I made it to the top. And when I made it to the top, I rushed over toward Carmen’s bedroom door and knocked on it.
“Who is it?” Carmen yelled from the other side of the door.
“It’s Yoshi,” I replied.
The door opened immediately after I announced who I was. Carmen had a smile on her face that brightened up the entire house. “Girl, come on in,” she said.
Although I was in her room the other night, somehow I missed noticing it looked like a messy locker room. Her bed was in disarray with clothes thrown all over it. She even had clothes thrown across her floor with shoes mixed throughout it. I saw a cup and a plate in her drawer with food residue lingering around the fork left in the middle of the plate.
I frowned my face up and said, “Girl, you need to clean this room up. How can you sleep in all this mess?”
Carmen chuckled. “My room ain’t that bad,” she replied, trying to downplay it, and then she grabbed me by the arm.
I showed a little resistance. “I am ready to go.”
“Okay, well, let me get my mama out of my closet so I can lock my door.”
“She’s in your closet?” I asked, as I peered around the bedroom door into her walk-in closet. Aunt Sandra had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her face. It appeared she was busy trying to find something to wear.
Carmen sighed. “Yeah, and she needs to come on.”
“Where is your cell phone? I tried to call you four times,” I said, still standing in the same spot. I was not about to move another inch. I just wanted Carmen to get her mother together so we could leave. The faster I got out of this roach-infested bedroom, the better off I would be.
“It’s downstairs in the living room, charging up.”
“Well, can you get your mother to hurry up? I’m ready to go.”
“I’m ready,” Aunt Sandra said after she turned around holding a pair of denim jeans and a black shirt in her hands.
“Ma, you can wear that shirt, but you can’t wear those jeans. How many times we gon’ go through this?” Carmen whined.
“Come on, Carm. You know I’ma take care of your stuff,” she pleaded as she walked toward Carmen.
“Ma, I’m not trying to hear that. I told you, you can wear the shirt but I’m not gonna let my jeans walk out of here.”
“So, whatcha gon’ let me wear then? I need to get out of here.”
“You can say that again,” I added.
Aunt Sandra walked a couple more steps toward Carmen. “Carm, please let me wear them. I promise I’ma take care of ’em.”
Before Carmen could speak, I interjected. “Please let her wear the damn jeans. I’ll buy you another pair if you like.”
“See, your rich cousin here is going to buy you another pair. So, you gotta let me have ’em now,” Aunt Sandra said.
Frustrated, Carmen sighed heavily. “All right, take ’em, Ma. But don’t come back and ask me for anything else. I’m tired of letting you wear my clothes and you don’t take care of them.”
I grabbed Carmen by the shoulder. “Stop whining and let her go, because I am trying to get out of here.”
“Yes, stop whining and let me go so you and Miss Prissy over here can go and handle y’all business,” Aunt Sandra commented sarcastically.
I ignored her antics. It was clear that she was below my caliber. Any dope fiend who walks around town in two-week old clothes with personal hygiene issues and gets high off drugs day in and day out is merely a lost cause. I turned my nose up to her and acted like she didn’t exist.
“I see you turning your nose up at me. I don’t stink!” she commented as she walked out of the room.
“I beg to differ,” I responded while I kept my back to her.
“Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled underneath her breath, and went into the bathroom.
Carmen looked at me. “Girl, don’t pay my mama no mind. She’s crazy!”
“Don’t you think I already know that?” I replied.
Carmen laughed. “Give me a second and let me grab my coat and lock my bedroom door,” she said.
“I’ll be outside waiting in my truck,” I told her, and left.
A few minutes later, Carmen met me outside. She hopped in the truck with me and then we got out of there. It was her idea for us to eat Mexican, so we went to this spot off Granby Street. I had to admit that the food was delicious and I enjoyed Carmen’s company. She was very pleasant this trip. She wasn’t acting ghetto like she normally does, so I was pleased with her.
“Whatcha want to do next?” she asked me after she paid for the tab.
“I’m up for anything. Just don’t take me back to Grandma’s house.”
“All right. We can go to the mall by my house if you like.”
“Okay, that’s cool,” I said, and that’s where we headed.
It was a Saturday afternoon, so we knew MacArthur mall would be packed. We entered from Dillard’s department store entrance and browsed a bit. We did, however, stop in Sunglass Hut. I picked myself up a hot pair of Salvatore Ferragamo sunshades. Carmen looked at me like I was crazy when I shelled over three hundred fifty for my shades.
“Girl, please. There’s nothing like rocking a hot pair of shades,” I told her, and walked out of the store.
On my way into the next store, my cell phone rang. I knew who it was before I even looked at the caller ID. Carmen looked back at me and smiled. “Don’t front. You know it ain’t nobody but Mario.”
“He can leave a voice mail message,” I told her.
Shocked by my response, Carmen stopped in her tracks, grabbed a hold of my arm, and said, “Something is wrong. And you gon’ tell me what it is,” she demanded.
“Nothing is wrong,” I tried to convince her. “I just don’t feel like talking to him right now.”
“Yoshi, you ain’t holding back on me, are you?”
I politely removed my arm from Carmen’s hand and said, “No, I am not.” And before I could say another word, my cell phone rang again. I looked back at the caller ID.
“It’s him again, ain’t it?”
I nodded.
“Want me to answer it?” She held out her hand for me to give her my phone.
“No, I got it,” I assured her, and then I pressed down on the send button. “Hello,” I said.
“I just called you a minute ago. Did you get a missed call?” he asked.
“I heard my phone ringing. I just couldn’t pick it up at the time because I had some bags in my hand,” I lied.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the mall.”
“Which one?”
“MacArthur mall.”
“How long have you been up there?”
“For about an hour or so.”
His questions continued. “Who you up there with?”
“I’m with my cousin Carmen.”
“Damn, he’s sho’ asking you a lot of questions!” Carmen mumbled underneath her breath, but it was loud enough for me to hear her.
I placed my finger over my mouth and said, “Shhhh!”
“Am I going to see you later?” he asked.
“I’m not sure yet. But I’ll let you know.”
> “What’s up with you, Yoshi? Did I do or say anything wrong?”
“No, Mario. You haven’t done anything. I told you I just need to go home and handle a few things. That’s it.”
“Well, have you decided if you need the Honda or not?”
“I’ll let you know by tomorrow.”
“So when am I going to hear from you?”
“I’ll call you as soon as I get home,” I assured him.
“All right,” he said, and then we both hung up.
Right after I hung up with Mario, Carmen started running her mouth fifty miles per minute. I tried to tune her out but it didn’t work. She strutted down behind me to probe me for information. “Why is that nigga being worrisome?” she asked. “He acts like y’all are married or something.”
“He was not acting like we were married.”
“That’s a damn lie! That nigga was asking you questions like he got papers on you.”
“You are being so dramatic!” I said as I continued to walk down the mall concourse.
Following on my heels, she said, “You can call it what you want, but I know when I see a nigga getting all possessive. You better watch his ass! Him and his fucking brother, Maceo, ain’t wrapped too tight. They are fucking insane.”
“Now you tell me,” I mumbled.
“Whatcha say?” she asked.
“I didn’t say a word.”
“Yes, you did. You’re holding back on me.” She pressed the issue.
I stopped in my tracks. “Look, Carmen, I don’t know why you’re so fixated on my relationship with Mario. There’s nothing going on between him and me. I’m not mad with him and he’s not mad with me.”
“He may not be mad at you, but you sure got something going on.”
“I just needed to get away so I could have some me time and that’s about the size of it,” I repeated.
Carmen sucked her teeth. “Yeah, right. Remember you’re talking to a woman who has been through it all. I can tell when another woman is having some type of drama in her life. You and Mario were fine when I talked to you earlier on the phone and now all of a sudden, you don’t want to be bothered with the man. Something ain’t right, and I ain’t gonna let you convince me otherwise. Now you can walk around here and tell me anything if you want to, but I know better.”
“Why is it so important for you to know what’s going on in my life?”
“Because you are family. We are blood. And not only that, you’re here all by yourself, so I ain’t gon’ let no nigga come into your space and fuck it up just like that. Shit, I just want you to be able to come to me if you have any problem with any of these cats around here. Who knows, I may be able to help you sort some of your problems out since I know most of the games these niggas ’round here be playing.”
Hearing the sincerity in Carmen’s voice made me want to fall into her arms and tell her everything. She was right—I was her family. We were blood related, so I should have been able to go to her and tell her anything. Who knows, she probably could have helped me with all of the burden I had on my shoulders. I needed somebody to help me carry this load. But then something inside of me told me to hold back. This burden was too big for her, so it wasn’t wise for me to let her get involved. And then again, who knows, she probably could handle it.
Deep down inside, I was playing the game of tug-of-war and I didn’t know which way to go. So, I looked into Carmen’s eyes and said, “Cousin, I really appreciate your love for me. But I’m a big girl, so I can handle Mario’s shit as well as any other man’s shit that comes my way. And if there comes a time where I can’t, then I’ll let you know.”
“Yeah, okay,” she replied, and then she walked off toward the store called Forever 21.
I went in another direction. I elected to take a seat in one of the massage chairs placed in front of Forever 21. I sat there and thought about all the events that had taken place in my life. Over the last few months, so much had happened to me. I was at the top of my game in Miami before my past addiction resurfaced. I went from almost being a partner at my law firm to being a suspect for the murder of my best friend, Maria, who was a DEA agent and an informant for me. I thought about the package that was sent to my house by whoever was setting me up. It contained Maria’s badge and the videotape of her being murdered in my home. I was horrified.
La La, aka Lance, the multiplatinum rapper from Houston whom I’d successfully defended for murder and conspiracy charges, helped me get away from the chaos once I got out of jail on a three-million-dollar bail. But soon after La La and I hooked up and he let me get away on his yacht, he was shot coming out of a nightclub. I knew that the people who were after me killed Lance and Maria, and the thought of losing two people that I loved made me feel so angry inside.
I wanted justice for them, but I knew I wasn’t in a position to get it for them. So, I had to live with it, which was something I wasn’t ready to do. And then to come here to the state of Virginia, only to go through another episode of being a part of someone else’s murder, had truly taken a toll on me. My mind was racing for answers and couldn’t come up with anything. I sat there in that massage chair and watched Carmen as she browsed through the entire store. Even though I knew she made a lot of bad decisions in her life, she dealt with them and she looked like she was handling it. I wanted to have that same carefree spirit she had and I vowed to myself that I would get it.
When our little shopping trip was over, Carmen and I each got a soft pretzel from the pretzel stand and exited the mall. It was around four o’clock in the evening when we arrived back at Grandma Hattie’s house. She was in the kitchen making a pot of chicken soup when we walked in. From the very second I walked through the door, I announced that I couldn’t stay long. I had to give her heads-up so she wouldn’t make me stay any longer than I wanted to. Carmen headed upstairs to put her purse away while I stayed in the kitchen and talked to Grandma Hattie.
“You got somewhere you got to be?” she questioned me.
“Yes, ma’am,” I lied.
“Where you gotta be this time of the evening?”
“I have a date,” I lied once more.
“Be careful, baby. These men out here aren’t what they appear to be.”
“Trust me, I always got my eyes and ears open.”
“You’d better. Because you don’t want to end up like your Aunt Sandra, ’round here all strung out on drugs behind a man. I remember back when she met this guy named Patrick McCall. Rachael was only two years old. And this guy came from out of nowhere promising her the world, so you know she wanted to jump at the chance of happiness, because she had just broken up with Rachael’s father. Now this Patrick fellow was a clean-cut guy. He worked for the Ford plant and he came from a good family. He said and did all the right things in the beginning. But when he got Sandra where he wanted her, he started acting like a pure fool. He became mentally abusive and then he started cheating on her with every woman who walked cross his path. Sandra went through seven years of that mess. And I guess when she felt like she couldn’t deal with it anymore, she drifted out on those streets and started using drugs.”
“Has she ever said she wanted to get off drugs?”
“All the time. But as soon as she’s faced with some other problems, she’ll run right back out in those streets. I keep telling her that those drugs aren’t the answer. She’s gonna first have to get some help. And the help starts at home with your family. Whether she knows it or not, we are all she has. When the tough times hit we are the only people who will bail her out. What I am saying is, your family is all you got. Now I know we ain’t got the money or the big fancy house, but we are here if you ever need to talk. Sharing your problems takes years of stress off your life. So, don’t you ever forget that.” She squeezed my shoulder.
I thought long and hard about what she had just said, as I watched her walk back over to her pot of chicken soup. And what was so crazy was the fact that she was right. Your family is all you have. And si
nce my mother was thousands of miles away in her Florida retirement home, the family I had here was all I had left. The murder incident began to weigh down on me again. And the fact that I was involved with the murderer’s brother had become taxing. I couldn’t go another day carrying this load all by myself. I needed someone I could talk to and Grandma Hattie seemed like the perfect person. But then again, she was a very old woman and I didn’t think she would be able to handle that type of information.
Carmen, on the other hand, I felt would be the perfect person to talk to. She’d hung out on those streets for a lot of years, I was told, so she would definitely know how I should handle this problem. But before I told her, I just needed her to assure me that she wouldn’t tell anyone else. She had to keep this secret to her heart like I’d done because it was a matter of life and death. And if she could grasp the importance of that, the better I would feel.
So after I thought about my situation a little more, I finally got up the gumption to go to Carmen. She was coming out of the bathroom when I arrived at the top of the staircase.
She smiled at me. “If you got to use the bathroom, you better wait at least thirty minutes, because I blew that bad boy up,” she advised me.
I didn’t crack a smile. Instead, I grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into her bedroom. “I need to talk to you,” I told her.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
When we stepped into her bedroom and took a seat on the edge of her bed, I noticed Aunt Sandra was walking upstairs toward us. Aggravated by her presence, I asked Carmen to close the door. So, when she stood up to do so, Aunt Sandra rushed toward the bedroom door. “Now, I know you see me coming,” she roared as she pushed back on the door.
“Ma, we are trying to talk,” Carmen explained.
“Well, talk then,” she replied sarcastically. “I just need to get a pair of socks out your drawer.”
