If It Ain't About the Money

by Saundra

  The chubby lady turned and glanced at the police officers then slowly faced me again. Further investigation of her made me discover she had a lazy eye and a brown birthmark on her left forefinger. Growing impatient of their presence, I sighed.

  “Isis Payne, my name is Cindy Martin.” Confused as to how she knew my name, I gave her a suspicious look. She glared at me as if she were trying to see through me or something. Nothing was there for her to see, though, except hurt and pain. I hoped she saw a clean picture of it.

  “How do you know my name?” I questioned, my arms now folded in defense mode.

  “I’m with the division of Child Protective Services. And we are here to pick you up. We are going to place you in a safe home until your mom gets out.”

  “I don’t need no safe place. I can stay right here. My mother paid the rent up for four years,” I lied. Really it was paid up for three years. But she had figured if she went to prison, I could get a job and save up to start paying rent by the time it started being due again. Only neither of us ever believed she was actually going to prison.

  A fake smile spread across Cindy Martin’s face. “That was a good thing your mother did. Noble, even. But, Isis, you’re only fourteen. And you can’t live alone; there are laws against it, and according to the information we have, you have no family to claim you. So we have to take you with us.” I looked at both of the cops. I could tell they were ready to handle me if I acted up. “Go and pack your things,” she ordered as if she had won.

  Feeling angry, scared, and helpless, I rolled my eyes at her and stomped my right foot before marching off to my room. The ride in the car was horrible; the tears would not stop falling. A few times Cindy glanced in my direction. I wanted to scream at her and call her a fat pie-eating bitch. But the fight was leaving me by the minute. Finally, we pulled up to a ranch-style brick house with a blue car in the driveway. Cindy shut off the ignition to her car. I sniffed and blinked back more tears that threatened to fall.

  “Isis, this here is where we are going to place you for the time being. I know you think we are doing this out of meanness. But you’ll see it’s for your own good . . .” She paused. “This is a good pick for you.” She nodded at the house. “Your foster mother is very nice. And don’t worry, someone from the department will drop in often to check on you, until you are placed somewhere permanently.”

  She walked in front of me and rang the doorbell. A tall, skinny, brown-skinned, middle-aged woman opened the door. “You finally arrived. I’ve been expecting you for almost two hours.” The lady smiled at us.

  “Sorry about that, Martha; we are running a bit behind schedule,” Cindy explained. I gripped the handle to my roller suitcase tighter. I didn’t want to let that suitcase go; it was like my lifeline back to my mother.

  “I figured as much.”

  “Isis, meet Martha Tate, your foster mother. You can call her Mrs. Tate.” Ha! I didn’t plan on calling her anything, because what they didn’t know was I didn’t plan on talking. I had nothing to talk about.

  “Hi, Isis. Come on in and make yourself at home.” Mrs. Tate reached out for me as if she was reaching for my hand. I look at her hand as if it were a bug I wanted to swat.

  “Well, I better get going,” Cindy announced. Mrs. Tate bid her goodbye. I didn’t so much as glance in her direction. I hoped to never see her again. Mrs. Tate had gestured for me to come inside; this time she ushered me inside. Reluctantly, I put one foot in front of the other and stepped in.

  I followed Mrs. Tate as she took me on a full tour of the house. It was simple but nice. There was a welcoming, homey feeling that I picked up on right away. She made my new room the last stop on the tour. The room was huge with a big walk-in closet.

  “Well, Isis, it’s lunch time. I think we should head down to the kitchen and grab something to eat. Just push your suitcase into your closet for later,” she instructed. Back in the kitchen she reached inside the refrigerator and pulled out a tray of sandwiches. Placing the tray on the table, she scurried back over to the stove, where she pulled the lid off a piping hot pot, and started spooning what appeared to be tomato vegetable soup into a bowl. “This is going to be delicious,” she said.

  “I . . . I’m not hungry.” I swallowed to rid my throat of the lumpy feeling. Then I quickly braced myself for what she might say next.

  “Are you sure? My vegetable soup is award winning.” She smiled, and this time I saw a very small chip in her front left tooth. It was small but noticeable. I looked away, not wanting to make full eye contact. I glared out of the kitchen window that looked out into her backyard. The yard was filled with beautiful flowers that were clearly tended daily, just as her front yard appeared to be. I wasn’t used to that in the hood. Sure, people’s yards were full of grass, but nothing special or cared for. In most cases, it needed to be mowed. “Come sit down and try a bit. You have had a trying day. And you need to keep up your strength.” I watched her place a bowl with soup on the table, along with a plate, then she placed two sandwiches on it.

  The sight of the food caused my stomach to growl. I hadn’t eaten anything all morning, but there was no way I could eat. The lump that sat in my throat would not allow it. Placing one foot in front of the other, I made small strides to the table, where I sat down in front of the food and attempted to eat the soup. Mrs. Tate sat down across from me and ate. She attempted to make small talk but after asking me a few questions and receiving no response, she gave up.

  Then suddenly that smile that had been on her face earlier reappeared. She stood and made her way over to the refrigerator, where she pulled out a cake. Walking over to me, she set it down on the table next to me. It read “Happy Birthday, Isis.” My eyes scanned the cake in confusion. “It’s for you. Happy birthday . . . Oh, I guess you’re wondering how I know it’s your birthday. Well, this morning when your file was delivered to me I instantly recognized today was your birthday. So I ran out right away and bought you a birthday cake.”

  Not knowing how to react to her seeming act of kindness, I sat there and glared at the cake as if it were a brick being offered to me. Turning my attention back to my plate, I pretended to eat again. Who was this stranger that thought she had the right to celebrate my birthday? She didn’t even know me. Honestly, with all that was going on I had not thought about my birthday, except for when my mother had surprised me this morning with two brand-new pairs of Jordans and some clothes. Even then I didn’t feel like celebrating, knowing we were on our way to the courthouse. And now here this woman was reminding me that I would be celebrating without my mom. Unable to hide my frustration I slammed my spoon down beside the bowl. Mrs. Tate took a seat beside me.

  “Listen, Isis, I won’t sit here and tell you that I know what you’re going through. Because I don’t . . . mean, I won’t pretend I don’t know all about heartache, because I’ve been living a mighty long time. So I do. But what I will say is that while you are here with me in my home, know that this is your home, too. And I’m going to treat you as such. While you are here I’m going to treat as if you belong to me . . . I know I can’t replace your mother . . . But if you need anything, just know that you can always come to me. The door is open.”

  This stranger was once again acting as if she knew me, trying to be nice when she didn’t know anything about me. I turned to her. “You don’t have to worry about me. I will stay out of your way. Because I don’t need you or no one.” Angry, I pushed my chair back and ran to the room I would be occupying. Throwing myself on top of the bed, I cried, kicked, and punched the mattress until I was worn out. Before long, I was asleep. Feeling as if I was being weighed down by something, I attempted to toss and turn but couldn’t move. I heard myself screaming and squinted my eyes to see what was in front of me, but it was foggy. I opened my eyes to darkness and realized that I had been dreaming. A bright light came on and Mrs. Tate stepped into the room.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, you were only dreaming.” She rushed over and sat down on the bed
next to me and placed her arm around my shoulder. The dream had terrified me; my heart was beating fast, even though I was awake and could see everything was okay. I was still shaken. With tears flooding my face, I sat up and placed both my arms around Mrs. Tate. She hugged me so tight. Instantly, I could feel the love. “Like I said earlier, I’m here for you, Isis.” This time I believed her. Until I was placed with a permanent family, I was home.

  Chapter 3

  Secret

  Four Years Later

  The heat was not playing with me today. It was beaming down, beating the shit out of me. And after working an eight-hour shift at Taco World, I was not up for the fight. I smelled like straight tacos and sweat; it was enough to make anyone want to puke. It was days like this that I prayed for a car. The bus line was not working for me. It only took you so far, and you had to hike it the rest of the way. But what choice did I have? I had to work or Penny and I would be up shit creek without a paddle. Jackie couldn’t give two fucks about Penny and me.

  Stopping by Ike’s snow cone stand, I ordered a large bubble gum flavored snow cone. I needed it. I had to eat it in record time, though, or the sun would melt it to piss. That cool feeling that the snow cone provided was refreshing, but it only lasted for a few more minutes before I was back in misery. I was just about to give up.

  Screecchhhhh. I almost jumped outta my skin as a brand-new black Dodge Charger pulled up next to me. For just a brief second I closed my eyes. Drive-by shootings and robberies were known to happen in this neighborhood; I figured it was my turn. “Mane, what’s up, Secret?” I opened my eyes as I recognized the voice.

  “Kirk,” I whispered, surprised. He was older and definitely looked different, but I would have known him anywhere. Kirk and I grew up together; he was my neighbor most of my life. But he had been gone off the grid for a minute. “Kirk, why the hell would you ride up on me like that?” I laughed.

  “Shit, you were scared straight.” He chuckled. “What the hell you doing out here in this damn Miami heat wave. You should know better. This ain’t the tan you want.”

  “I know, right,” I agreed. “Just got off work. Ain’t got no car, so . . . It is what is. That bus life.” I grinned. He knew what the bus was like; he had ridden it enough growing up.

  He glanced at my shirt. “So you over at Taco World, huh?”

  “Yep, trying to get this money, and Taco World serving it up, so I’m there.”

  “No doubt. That’s called hustlin’. You do what you gotta do to make that dough. Nobody knows that better than me.”

  I nodded my head in agreement. “But what’s up wit’ you, nigga? Where you been hidin’ at for a billion years? Comin’ back like you George off the Jeffersons,” I joked. I thought about the old television show; just by looking at him you could tell he had moved on up. Really, he had only been gone for about two years. But even that was too long. “And whose car you driving? Or stole?” I pried as I checked it out. Brand-new twenty-inch chrome rims. It was nice.

  Kirk started laughing. “Stole. You got jokes. Nah, this all me right here,” he assured me. He looked around the inside of the car like he was seeing it for the first time himself. “Yep, drove this bitch right off the showroom floor a few days ago.” I couldn’t believe it. I was definitely impressed and excited for him at the same time. Kirk had grown up just like me: with nothing. His mother had ten kids, and most of them had different daddies. I couldn’t remember her ever having a job. All she ever did was stand in her doorway, smoke Newports, and curse. They lived straight off the county. Kirk used to come to school with holes in his pants. He ended up in so many fights at school defending his honor that he stopped coming. Then suddenly he was gone. But here he was back and in a major fucking way. I was wowed.

  “Would you like a ride home?” he offered.

  I almost screamed, Hell yes. But the pride in me said no; I hated being needy. Plus, I didn’t want to mess up his nice new car. I smelled like tacos and sauce, and while I loved to eat Taco World food, I knew it could smell awful bad after you slaved in it for hours. But fuck that. I was not about to turn down a ride. Not today, it was too damn hot. “Dude, as hot as it is out here. And you gotta ask.” I wasted no time walking around to the passenger side and climbing in. Letting his window up, Kirk pumped the AC right up. It felt so good as I leaned back in my seat. This was living. “I swear you have no idea how good that air feels. I thought I might die a few minutes ago when I was walkin’.” I laughed, but I was serious.

  “Yo, I remember those hot-ass walkin’ days. You ain’t gotta tell me.” He chuckled. Kirk glanced at my Taco World cap lying in my lap. “Yo, what’s up with you working at Taco World for real, though?”

  “What you think? Who else gone feed Penny and me? I think you know the score on Jackie. Ain’t shit changed over that way.” I kept it real.

  “Man, she still on that bullshit?” He seemed a little shocked.

  The mention of her made me bitter all over again. “She still Jackie.” My tone was full of sarcasm on purpose. Her name left a sour taste in my mouth. But I didn’t want to talk about Jackie. She was the last person I wanted to discuss. It was bad enough I still had to live with her. I changed the subject. “So what’s up with you and school? How you just gone leave like that after you made it so far? You could have at least stuck around for graduation; it was cool.” It had been a few months since I had graduated, and no matter how hard the struggle was with my home life, I was proud that I had finished.

  Kirk still had not answered my question. I glanced at him for a brief second. His eyes were focused on the streets, but the distant look they held told me he was thinking of something else. “You know I thought about graduation a few times. What it might feel like to walk across that stage.” He paused. “But I had other stuff to do like chase this paper.” He gripped the steering wheel.

  “Yeah, I see, and it looks like you being successful at it.” I glanced around his new Charger.

  He looked at me and smiled. “So what’s going on with your girl Isis? Y’all still best friends?”

  “You know it.” I grinned.

  “I swear y’all was thick as thieves back in the day. Damn, Doublemint twins.” He chuckled.

  “And ain’t shit changed. That’s forever.”

  We were getting close to my house; I could see it from a distance. The ride was so comfortable I didn’t want it to end.

  “Aye, are you really happy with Taco World? I gotta know.” He sounded as if something counted on it.

  What was with him and my job? He kept jumping on the subject. “Yo, why are you trippin’ off my work?”

  He pulled in front our house and put the Charger in park. “Naw, I ain’t trippin’, just tryin’ to see if you straight.”

  I gazed at our house, and the thought of going inside suddenly seemed overwhelming, but it was my reality. “Like I already said, it feeds Penny and me. And that’s survival.” I hoped that was enough to end his interest about my job. Because I was really tired of him asking.

  “A’ight. Well, check this out, if you really want to get paid. Really get money and not just survive,” he stressed. “You need to holla at me. Real talk.”

  “Holla at you?” I gave him my undivided attention. “You gone be my employer or something?” I giggled. “So what’s the job?”

  “Don’t worry too much about that. Just know that when you are ready, I got you. All you have to do is say the word. We gotta hold each other down from the old neighborhood. Shit, Miami small so your circle need to be even smaller. Trust me, mine is, and niggas lining up to be me. I make dreams come true and fatten pockets.”

  I thought about his car and the nice clothes he wore. Could that be me? It all seemed too good to be true. Yes, hook me up, was on the tip of my tongue. Instead, “Nah, I’m good” is what came out of my mouth.

  “A’ight. But take my number, and if you change your mind or even if you just need something, just hit me up, anytime.”

  “No doubt I
’ll hit you up, I promise. But I gotta go. Thanks for the ride.” Reluctantly, I put my hand on the door and exited the luxury. I really wanted to fall back into the seat stake my claim and cry to never to come out.

  The deeper I made it into our yard and the closer I got to our front door, the more I could hear Penny yelling. Her words were muffled so I couldn’t exactly make out what she was saying. But I could tell she was arguing. I turned around to look behind me to find Kirk still sitting there. I guess he was making sure I made it inside. With a fake smile I waved him off. Finally he pulled away. I made a heavy sigh before opening the front door.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There ain’t no money hidden anywhere in this house.” Penny’s tone was shaken. It sounded as if she was in the kitchen. Without being certain, I made it my destination. I found Penny in the corner with Jackie standing directly in her face, yelling.

  “Don’t be tellin’ me no fuckin’ lies. That’s all your ass ever do is cry and lie. And the shit is really getting on my last damn nerve.” Terror was written all over Penny’s face. Once again Jackie was being a bully.

  “Jackie, get away from her. You ain’t gotta be in her face like that,” I yelled. She always took things too far. Her bullying was on ten.

  “You don’t tell me what to do, girl. This is my house,” she replied without even looking at me. “Hiding money in my house and I want to know where!” she screamed.

  “No, it’s not true, ain’t nobody hiding money from you,” Penny cried. “I don’t know what she talkin’ about, Secret.” I couldn’t see Penny clearly, but I knew she was begging for my help.

  “Just get out of her face, Jackie. Ain’t nobody got any money up this house to hide from you, this is just crazy. Trust and believe if I had money we would be out this dump in no time.”

  “Secret, stay your narrow ass out of this and just shut your damn mouth. Because if I find that money, there is going to be hell to pay for the both of you. Now you take that and trust and believe,” she threatened.