by Wahida Clark
“Oh, shit!” She screamed as she began to pant the way the Lamaze coach instructed. This was her first contraction and the cabbie thought that her eyes were gonna bulge out of her head. When the contraction subsided she said, “It’s happening baby. It’s time … I’m scared.”
“Oh shit!” It had just dawned on Kaylin what it meant when the water broke. Now he had to really focus on being calm. “I’m at the elevator now. As soon as you pull up, we will go to the hospital. Don’t I need to call your doctor?”
“No!” she screamed. “Don’t hang up, baby, please.”
“Okay. Okay. I won’t hang up. I’m here, baby. How far are you?” He looked around. “Call an ambulance!” Kaylin yelled at the guard stationed at the front desk. “My wife went into labor. She’ll be pulling up here in a cab. Are you there, baby?”
“I’m still here. I’m scared. Are you out front?”
“I’m right here waiting on you. I need you to try and relax for me.”
“Okay.” She closed her eyes and laid her head back. She heard Kaylin instruct someone to call Dr. McCombs and let her know that Angel’s contractions were eight minutes apart and that they were on their way.
When he stopped talking she said, “Eight minutes? That’s all? Oh … here comes another one! Oh, shit!”
“Breathe, baby.”
She was holding her breath. “I can’t, it hurts.”
“C’mon, baby, breathe.” He heard her make feeble attempts at the breathing exercises. “I hear the ambulance getting closer,” he told her as he listened to her breathe, even though the contraction had stopped.
“I’m about two blocks away. Oh God. That was a hard one.”
“The ambulance is here. Where are you, baby?”
“Almost there.”
“Hold on.” She listened as he spoke to the paramedics.
The female cabbie beeped the horn as she pulled in front of the building. Kaylin turned his phone off and jogged over to the taxi. He opened the door and helped Angel out. When the spectators and passersby saw her belly and the paramedics wheeling the gurney they all started clapping and whistling.
As they helped her onto the gurney another contraction hit. She grabbed Kaylin’s hand and they did the breathing exercises together. She was then lifted up onto the back of the ambulance. Kaylin jumped in behind her, they closed the back doors, and they were off to the hospital.
Chapter 18
“Don’t hurt her,” Whitey snapped at Bullet.
“Shut the fuck up, you groupie muthafucka!” Bullet was tying Lil’E's hands behind her back. Her feet were already bound and he had taped her mouth shut.
Lil’E was kicking herself because the boss lady told her not to travel to Philly by herself. Since she had the twins with her, Smith & Wesson, she had told the boss lady that she wasn’t alone. Now she was hemmed up in some seedy motel room with smelly orange carpet and two crazed lunatics.
On the way back from her interviews, she was traveling the turnpike and stopped at one of the rest stops to gas up, freshen up, and grab a sandwich. A white guy came up to her asking for directions to New Brunswick and before she finished explaining the way, he had the burner pressed at her stomach telling her to get inside the Chevy.
She could tell that the white dude was from the South. His accent and the gold grill were dead giveaways. The big black dude didn’t say too much but his accent wasn’t screaming, dirty South. In any event she got caught slippin’ and here she was.
“Shawty, I was feelin’ you flow. You got mad skills on the mic,” Whitey was cheesin’ at her.
Is this what the superstars go through? Is this why they hire body guards? To protect themselves from crazed, kidnapping fans and groupies? she asked herself.
The more Whitey looked at her, the more in awe he became. “Damn! Lil’E!” He lustfully looked her over. “I can’t believe I kidnapped muthafuckin’ Lil’E! Shit, my muthafuckin’ niggas ain’t gonna believe this shit.” He licked his lips. “Damn, you finer than a muthafucka. Lookin’ like Alicia Keys. Boy, and that new remix … you put it down hard. Them strippers be at the club, wigglin’ real nice like to that shit.” He was trying to imitate the strippers’ moves and began singing the hook “In ya face, in ya face.” He dropped it like it was hot and was laughing. “Ya know what I’m sayin’? I’ma have to take ya panties for some proof. My homies ain’t gonna believe me, though.” He stared at her before it hit him. “You think you can autograph them for me?”
“Man, why don’t you shut the fuck up!” Bullet had heard enough. “Shut the fuck up and leave her alone.”
“Fuck yeah,” Lil’E tried to mumble under the tape, which tasted horrible and was burning her lips. “And tell him to stop staring at me. Go watch TV or sumthin. Let me be a hostage and die in peace. Lord, why I gotta be tortured by dumb and dumber?”
“I can’t believe what the hell I’m hearing.” Bullet continued with his tirade. “I don’t see why I’ve been hanging with yo’ stupid ass for this long. What the fuck you mean proof? You tryna get us a case? And over some bitch? A white bitch at that! They’ll fry us and then hang our asses. Your stupid white ass got me fucked up. I’m not tryna catch a case with a stupid, talkative, potential snitch ass.”
“Snitch? You got it fucked up! Man, stop trippin’. This Lil’E. And what the fuck you mean white bitch? I’m white!”
“Well, act like it, then,” Bullet snapped. “And find you some common sense. Oh, I forgot, y’all go looking and go running to find the noise and run right into all the trouble.”
“Ha, ha, ha. Punk muthafucka, you got jokes. It’s whatever, ‘cause that white bitch can spit.”
Oh God, Lil’E screamed to herself. I’m kidnapped by Beavis and Butthead. How the fuck I’ma leave my twins in the ride? I got to hit Hot ‘97, BLS, 105 tomorrow and I’m tied up in some fuckin’, stinkin'- ass motel room. Boss lady is going to kill me if these clowns don’t go ahead and do it first.
“I think she like me, man.”
Now, what the fuck I do to make him think that?
Whitey grinned as he sat facing Lil’E. “She really look like Alicia Keys. He reached out and touched her cheek. E squirmed away. “You think the boss man will let me hit this? I need some of that! And she pregnant too! Shit, I ain’t washing my dick for a month after I hit that! I’ma fuck the shit out of her. She gonna wanna be with me. Don’t worry about it, boo, you gonna love me in the end. We a match made in heaven.”
“Aww, man. You’s a dumb-ass bitch. Ask him yourself, dummy. He’s pulling up right now.” Bullet tossed the remote onto the bed and went to open the door. He looked at his watch and blurted, “Eleven forty. Damn. We been waiting on this nigga for almost three hours.” He snatched the door open and watched Snake get out the car. They were in the boondocks in Jersey somewhere holed up at a joint that reminded you of the Bates Motel.
“Damn, how the fuck y’all found this place?” Snake snapped.
“I know you ain’t complaining. You gonna let us do what we do, right?”
“Hell yeah, but damn.” His gaze went over to the bed where Lil’E was. She was a tiny little thing. “Put that bitch on the floor.” He was being careful not to show his face. “And blindfold the bitch!”
“Why? Dead men can’t talk,” Whitey snapped. “I know y’all gonna let me enjoy my job. I like looking at her.”
Dead men? Lil’E froze in panic. Oh, shit. My baby. My unborn baby, my grandma. Who’s going to take care of her? I didn’t even get a chance to take her to Italy. Lord, I’m only eighteen. Don’t let me die now. Damn. Why did I travel by myself? Who are these clowns? And what the fuck do they want with me?
“So what’s up?” Bullet wanted to know. Because he was ready to get this over with. They watched Whitey pick her up and place her on the floor. She had tears streaming down her cheeks. Bullet said in disgust, “You’se a sick son of a bitch,” when he saw Whitey kiss a tear off Lil’E's cheek.
“Gotta wait on this nigga to collec
t the dough. He claims he knows where the spot is. I wish he would hurry up.” Snake ignored the both of them.
“Yo, can I hit this real quick?” Whitey wanted to know. “Do you know who this is? She got that hot joint, the “In Yo Face” remix. This Lil’E, nigga,” Whitey gloated, as he talked to Snake.
“Man, I don’t give a fuck who she is. Just want to pay off this debt and collect what’s owed to me. I might need this nigga again.”
“So, I can get up in this or what?”
“Man, where you gonna take her? I damn sure ain’t gonna leave the room to give yo ass privacy. And I definitely don’t want to sit here while you rape a bitch,” Snake said matter-of-factly.
“Shit, I’ll get me a muthafuckin’ room, you know how we do. Shit, I know the pussy good. Fuck it, there ain’t no sense in lettin’ good, pregnant pussy go to waste. We killin’ the bitch so it really ain’t no shit. We can all hit that!”
“White boy, if you don’t shut the fuck up! You ain’t stop runnin’ yo trap about this bitch since we got here. I’m starting to think you wired!” Bullet fired off.
Snake got wild with a gritty look on his face and said, “You bitch, muthafucka, you wired?” At the same time he began to pat him down.
“What you think, nigga? Hell naw, I ain’t wired! I been with y’all paranoid asses for at least seventy-two hours and frankly I’m sick of both of you niggas. Matter of fact, let’s get this shit over with so I can take my ass back home away from you sorry-ass muthafuckas. Y’all got me fucked up, talking about wired. Don’t call me no muthafuckin’ mo!” he spat. “Let me pat yo’ ass down.”
“Here come that nigga now.” Snake left Whitey alone to go peek out the window. He looked around to make sure it was just Phillip and Dougie. “Let them in,” Snake ordered, as he sat down at the small round table.
Dougie stepped through the door first. His gaze scanned the room, then Whitey and over to Bullet. He nodded at Snake and stepped inside. Dougie followed him, his glare scanning the room for Lil’E.
The two men remained standing. Bullet stepped over to the TV and turned it off. Dougie pulled out a black n’mild and lit it. Lil’E was on the floor shivering. She was trying to control her bladder.
“Where is she?”
When she heard Phillip’s voice she froze and pissed on herself.
“Over there on the other side of the bed,” Snake told him as he watched Phillip head over to where she lay. He stooped down and yanked the tape off her mouth and eyes.
“Yo, what the fuck is he doing? I thought he didn’t want her to see him?” Snake asked Dougie.
“What difference do it make? He paying y’all to merk the bitch, right?” He pulled hard on the black-'n-mild.
“I know you didn’t think you would get away with fucking up my money, threatening me, and having this baby? Um, um, um.” He waved his index finger back and forth. “Lily, you’ve been a bad girl, and Daddy’s very disappointed in you. I was planning on taking you places you’ve never been.” He wanted her to say something. “You don’t have anything slick to say?”
“Fuck you. Whatever you gonna do, do it and get it over with.” Her throat was so dry she could barely get that out.
Phillip let out that signature laugh. Dougie and Snake joined him. “All righty, then. That’s what I’m talking about. So, tell me, you thought that bitch was gonna protect you, huh?”
“Let’s do this, Phillip. Oh, I forgot. You had to hire some flunkies to do a man’s job. Hurting little ole me.” And she grinned, causing him to stand up and kick her in the face.
“Now, bitch.” He watched her writhe around in pain. “Oh, you can’t talk now, can you?” He kicked her in the stomach. She began to cry out. “Uh-huh.” He kicked her again. “Y’all niggas, I want this bitch to take three bullets to the stomach. I don’t need no fuckin’ babies. I got a family.” His cell rang. He hawked and spat on her. He turned the cell off. As he walked over to Snake, he reached inside his suit jacket and threw a stack of bills at him.
Snake snatched the stack out of the air and thumbed through it. “Yo—”
“Nigga, that’s half. Hit me up after the job is done for the rest. Let’s dip, bro.”
“Hold up! What the fuck you mean half? That ain’t the muthafuckin’ agreement we made. Don’t be walking off. We ain’t talked about this shit. I’m not the only muthafucka gettin’ paid. We need to fuckin’ discuss this shit. I’m not yo’ bitch, so you definfitely ain’t gonna be treating me like one. So what the fuck is up? Talk, nigga.”
“Man, this is business. What the fuck you wanna talk about? The job is half done, so you get half the dough. When it’s finished, hit me up and I got you. I ain’t tryna skip on a funky-ass twenty-five g’s. Shit, nigga, my suit cost more than that.” Dougie opened the door for his brother and they walked out, slamming the door behind them.
“Man, who in the fuck that nigga think he is?” Bullet snapped. “I got beef with him and don’t even know the pussy.”
“Damn.” Whitey looked down at Lil’E and frowned. “He fucked you up. I guess I won’t be gettin’ none of this pussy.”
“I guess you won’t be. Let’s get this over,” Snake ordered. Then he turned to Bullet. “If that nigga don’t pay up, then you can have all the beef you want with him. Now get this bitch so we can take care of her, get the rest of our money, and take our asses back home.”
They left the motel room carrying Lil’E. Snake and Bullet got in the front of the pimped-out Chevy while Whitey jumped in the back with Lil’E, who didn’t appear conscious.
They drove to New York and advanced through the Verrazano Bridge.
“Damn, look at all these homeless muthafuckas.” Bullet scanned the long dark alley.
“Fuck them. They’ll steal her clothes and shit, but will keep it moving. Go down there.” Snake pointed to what looked like a deserted area. “Handle that, Whitey.”
Bullet brought the car to a stop. Whitey opened the door and shoved Lil’E out. He pulled out his burner, shot her three times in the stomach, slammed the door back, and Bullet sped off. The vehicle came to a screeching halt, then backed up and out flew her purse.
Ten hours later, Angel was finally fully dilated. Kaylin had to call his sister to bring a video camera. He was there when Malik was born and was grateful to be here for his daughter. Half of the Santos clan was at the hospital anticipating the arrival of a new member.
“Okay, Mrs. Santos, it is almost over,” Dr. McCombs assured her.
“Almost? Almost?” Angel damn near screamed. “I want this agony to be over with now!” she breathed as the contraction threatened to knock her out.
“Okay. Here we go. I see the head. I want you to give me a nice big push,” Dr. McCombs instructed. Angel pushed, as the doctor tugged at the baby.
“All of that hair for you to comb, baby,” Kaylin teased.
“Shut up, Kaylin!” Angel snapped.
He laughed. “I got this all on video,” he joked. “I’ma sell it as baby mama gone wild on delivery table, 19.95.”
“Make him leave, somebody!” Angel said between breaths.
“I love you too, baby,” he teased.
“Okay, Mommy. I need another push, but this one needs to be a little harder. Go ahead and push.”
“Oh God.” She gritted her teeth as she bore down.
“That’s good. Go ahead and push again, but a little harder for me,” Dr. McCombs coaxed. “Good,” she said as she pulled the baby all the way out. “And it’s a baby girl!”
“Oh God,” Angel panted as she lay back, exhausted, and looked at the slimy little being.
“Come on, Daddy. Give the nurse the camera, while you get the honors of cutting the cord.”
Kaylin’s eyes were glued to his baby girl. “She’s pretty like me,” he stated as he took the cutting instrument from Dr. Mc-Combs. He clipped the cord and smiled.
“Congratulations, you guys did very well.” She handed the baby to the nurses who immediately starte
d cleaning her up, and Dr. McCombs began cleaning Angel in preparation to apply the stitches. The baby was yelling at the top of her lungs.
Kaylin came over to Angel’s side and kissed her. “You did real good, Ma. Real good.” She rolled her eyes at him and he smiled and kissed her again.
“Okay, Mommy, you only needed a couple of stitches. And again, you did very well. Congratulations to the both of you.”
“Here’s your baby.” The nurse handed the bundled-up baby to Angel.
She stared at the baby for several minutes, taking her all in. “I’m a mommy.” She beamed as the tears welled up in her eyes.
Kaylin was glad to catch that moment on camera before putting it down. “Let Daddy hold her.” Angel kissed the baby on the cheek and passed her to Kaylin.
“Jahara Kayliah Santos,” he said proudly. “Daddy’s precious little angel.” He explained the meaning of Jahara.
“Daddy, we forgot to weigh your little one,” Dr. McCombs told him. “Here. We’ll let you once again have the honors.” She led him to the scale by tugging at his elbow. He gently laid her down but wouldn’t let her go. “She’ll be okay.” She smiled at Kaylin, as he reluctantly let a screaming Jahara go.
“Man, just like her brother she has a strong set of lungs.”
“That’s a good thing. Well, she comes in at seven pounds, one ounce, and … she … is twenty-one inches long.” She skillfully swooped up Jahara, wrapped the receiving blanket back around her, and handed her back to Kaylin. “Wow, Mommy. I can’t imagine how much she would have weighed if you went full term.”
Angel smiled at her. She was happy that it was all over and only wanted to fall into a deep comalike sleep.
As soon as Jamaica heard gunshots, she grabbed her grandfather’s hand and they stepped back but peeked around the Dumpster. When the car pulled out of sight they ran over to Lil’E. Now they were standing there going through her purse.
“Grandpop, call the ambulance,” Jamaica pleaded. “She’s bleeding and she’s pregnant.”
Her grandfather’s hand shook uncontrollably. He was excited that they had a few dollars and excited about the pregnant white woman lying on the ground. He pressed 911 on E’s cell phone. “Hello. There’s a white pregnant woman lying here on the ground. She was shot, what sounded like three times. She needs an ambulance in a mighty big hurry.”
