by Landis Lain
“That was evidence,” protested Gabby. Gabby was a budding lawyer and watched all the “Law and Order” shows on television.
“He said he would kill me if I said anything,” said Sasha, looking terrified. “He had a gun. He might hurt you, too, if you say anything.”
“I don’t care what that fool said. We should tell the police!”
“Don’t tell anybody, please, Gabby,” said Sasha. “I would hate it if anything happened to you because of me.” Sasha begged for a few more minutes, becoming more and more distraught.
Gabby wasn’t happy, but she finally subsided in the face of Sasha’s growing hysteria.
“I won’t tell anybody, I promise.”
“ROD Pinky Promise?” begged Sasha.
“ROD Pinky Promise,” said Gabby, nodding solemnly, as she put out her hand pinky up. Sasha linked her pinky with Gabby’s.
An hour later, they had both composed themselves into the silence of utter wretchedness. Sasha put the car in drive. She took Gabby home. She drove herself home and went straight to the bathroom, where she stripped off her clothes and took a long hot shower. Sasha trembled with fear and shame. She could hear the Whiz Khalifa rap song in her head. She had theme music. She now understood, in living color, what the words ‘gang bang’ meant.
DELUDED
April 1,
I thought that I could fix things. Fix me. Ignore reality. I was determined to try because if I couldn’t remember, it must not exist, right? Somebody messed me up, so somebody should fix me, right? I was a fool. Damon was yet another dope fiend move I made without the excuse of drugs or alcohol.
“So how did Damon get tangled up in this?”
Sasha frowned. “I thought that if I got with another boy, then it would wipe away what happened. Damon was young, you know? He was the virgin. He was clean and pure. It was like if I was with him, I could be clean again.”
“It didn’t work out like that?”
“No,” said Sasha. “It was stupid. I mean we learned about sexually transmitted disease in sex education and health classes. It stands to reason that if you go with someone who has the cooties that you are just going to spread it around and get another stupid fool with the cooties.”
Dr. Michelle laughed. “True.”
She sobered.
“I don’t understand, though,” said Dr. Michelle. “Why do you think it was stupid?”
“I felt so dirty,” said Sasha. “I thought I could erase the whole thing with a- a, what is that saying that people who get so drunk do the next morning to help their hangover?
“Take the hair of the dog that bit them?”
“Yeah.”
“That only works with alcohol,” said Dr. Michelle, dryly. “And not very well. We used to have a saying in college. She who mixes the grain and grape will find herself with brain pain and belly ache.”
Sasha nodded. “I wish I’d known that before I approached Damon.”
“What?”
“Well, I was with different dogs,” quipped Sasha nastily. “D Dog, and his four little flunkies. I went nuts and got a baby at the same time, just like your little poem says.”
Dr. Michelle chuckled. “Deep one.” She paused. “What happened then?”
“Damon,” said Sasha. “He was shy and kind of reluctant. He was nice. He was the cutest boy in school. He went along with whatever I asked him to.”
“Okay?”
“I told him that I loved him,” said Sasha. “And he freaked out.”
“Why did you pick him?”
“Because I thought I could control him,” said Sasha. “He was kind of nerdy, in a superman kind of way, you know? He wasn’t all over me like D Dog used to be. I could bring him home.”
“He was presentable,” concluded Dr. Michelle.
Sasha nodded. “He was decent.”
“Why were you looking for decent?”
“I couldn’t tell my mom what happened. She was already mad about me dating Craig. She had forbidden me to see him anymore, because he got arrested for drug possession.”
“And?”
“And I did it anyway,” said Sasha. “I was a bad girl. Mama was right. She was going to say that I got what I deserved in the end.”
“Why did you think that?”
“Mama was so mad,” said Sasha. “She hit me. She’d never hit me before, not like that. She put me out of her house when she found out I was pregnant. She didn’t ask or care who the baby’s father was.”
“You messed up her plans for your life?”
Sasha nodded.
“She kicked me out. Mama was glad, though, when I came back home. She wasn’t happy that I was still pregnant. I thought she would have killed me if she thought the baby was D Dog’s.”
“I see,” said Dr. Michelle. “But I don’t understand why you think you got what you deserved in the end.”
Sasha bit her lip. “Because the main reason I picked Damon Hamilton was because he and D Dog looked a little bit alike. I thought that I could replace one image with the other. I could wipe D Dog away. I could make a decent daddy for my baby. It almost worked.”
“But the truth came out?”
“Mama sued Damon for child support and the paternity test showed that he wasn’t the father,” said Sasha. “I was stunned and crushed. Because that meant I was going to be connected to D Dog for the rest of my life.” Sasha moaned in grief.
“So, you lied?”
“Yeah, I lied,” said Sasha. “Everybody wants to know who my baby’s father is. What difference does it make?”
“You don’t think a young man has the right to know that he has fathered a child?”
“He used my body and gave nothing to me,” said Sasha. “He let his boys use me. They should have to pay for that. They don’t deserve a baby. Boys have no rights as far as I’m concerned.”
SHAKEN
April 9,
Public places are scary. Even grocery stores can be unnerving for some people. Who knew?
Suleiman was pushing the grocery cart through the store, scanning the items on the shelves. Sasha was glancing at her list. It was Saturday afternoon. The store was packed with people. Suleiman maneuvered the cart around an elderly lady in an amigo. He was looking antsy, glancing around and sighing every five minutes.
“After this we must get canned tomatoes and then we’re done,” said Sasha.
“Why don’t they put tomato paste and canned tomatoes in the same aisle?” Suleiman groused in frustration. “I hate grocery stores and this place is mad busy.”
“Tomatoes are in the canned vegetable aisle,” said Sasha, grabbing a can from the shelf. “Tomato paste and sauce are in the ethnic foods aisle.”
“That is stupid,” said Suleiman, uptight. “All I want is spaghetti. You could just get a bottle of sauce and call it good.”
Sasha gave him a pitying look. “That stuff is full of sodium and other preservatives. It’s easy to just make the sauce from scratch. Don’t be such a baby.”
“Okay, Miss Chemistry,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“Go sit in the car,” said Sasha. “I’ll finish.”
“It’s okay. We are almost done.”
Sasha was aware that Suleiman did not much like crowds. He glanced behind him and said, “Let me help you with that.” That last comment was directed toward the elderly lady reaching for a large jar of spaghetti sauce. He touched Sasha’s shoulders to ease her out of the way so he could step past her.
“I can get it,” snapped the old lady. “I want one a bunch of nasty folks haven’t touched.” She stood up from the amigo and reached for the spaghetti sauce. Instead of grabbing the one in front she tried to get one of the ones farther back on the shelf and grabbed the large jar off the shelf. Teetering, she knocked several jars off the shelf and they dropped to the floor with the force of a shrapnel bomb. The old lady screamed her outrage. Simultaneously, Suleiman tackled Sasha to the floor, covering her with his body.
“I’m blee
ding,” whimpered the old woman, pitifully, collapsing into the amigo as store employees ran for towels and called for cleanup. Sasha lay on the grocery store floor, the breath knocked out of her. She recovered during the few moments of pandemonium.
Suleiman crouched over Sasha, breathing harshly. A young man dressed in a red employee polo short leaned over them.
“Hey, man,” he said. “Are you guys hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” answered Sasha. “Are you okay?” She met Suleiman’s black eyes and watched as consciousness of his surroundings returned. He shuddered and got up off the floor, pulling her up with him.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Sasha and the employee. He glanced around wildly, staring at the widening stain of blood red spaghetti sauce and broken glass. “I gotta get out of here.”
Sasha nodded. ‘I’ll finish.” Suleiman nodded and bolted in the direction of the nearest exit.
Suleiman was sitting in the car, his head leaned back with the windows down when Sasha came out of the store wheeling a cart full of groceries fifteen minutes later. He popped the trunk and got out of car to help her transfer the groceries from the cart.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, looking anxious.
She shook her head.
“For a second I was back in the desert.”
“I’m fine,” said Sasha.
He loaded two bags of groceries without speaking. She laid one hand on his arm and he paused, misery-filled eyes meeting hers.
“What about you?” asked Sasha, concerned. “You got a little freaked out in there.”
He nodded.
“It’s all right.”
He nodded again.
“Thank you,” said Sasha.
He scowled.
“For what?” asked Suleiman. He put the bags of groceries in the trunk and slammed it shut. “Knocking you down and embarrassing you in front of a whole store full of people?”
“Saving me from flying glass,” said Sasha. She touched the sleeve of his jacket where spaghetti sauce stained it. “The old lady got cut pretty badly.”
“Oh,” said Suleiman, glancing at the spot. “Well.”
“I appreciate your super hero speed reflexes.” She flashed him a quick grin.
“That’s me,” said Suleiman, ruefully, shaking his head. “Faster than an old lady wielding jars of spaghetti sauce.” He followed her to the passenger seat and opened the car door for her.
Sasha laughed and got into the car.
SHATTERED
April 17,
I ceased to exist one month before I graduated twelfth grade. When Damon told me to leave him alone, I was crushed. Way beyond what I should have been. Because all we had was something physical, that I initiated. I started us, so it should have been up to me to end us. It’s only fair. I thought that if I just gave him what boys seemed to want he would want me. And I guess he did, just not forever.
“Get away from me,” he’d said, hazel eyes gleaming hate and spite. “I was trying to be nice, but you just don’t get it. I. Don’t Want. You. Don’t make me whip out my skank repellant!”
I couldn’t move. He knew! Damon held up his finger and mimicked like he was pushing a spray pump on a bottle. Then he pointed his finger to my forehead and made a pushing motion. I shrank back.
“Skank. Be. Gone.” Damon spat the words and they slammed into my body like bullets from a gun.
My heart shattered. It literally broke apart and I could feel each of the thousand tiny shards drop like a banana thrown to the floor in a liquid nitrogen experiment. I had to put my hands to my chest to hold the pieces in. I looked around and it
seemed everybody in the school was there to witness my humiliation. This one was almost worse because I could remember every detail. I was trashed in front of the whole school. I was trash. Alone. I wished that I could find a way to make him pay for that.
“So, Damon was the devil too, just like Craig?” asked Dr. Michelle.
“No,” said Sasha, shamefaced. “I took advantage of him.”
“You force him into something?” protested Dr. Michelle.
Sasha shook her head and continued.
“We had a couple of classes together,” she said. “Damon used to talk to me about books and his future. He was deep and kind of thoughtful. He didn’t lie or cheat or steal from me. He wasn’t a thug. I initially approached him. He was so grateful for the attention of a girl that he went along with everything I asked him to do. And he was nice about it until the end, well until I went cuckoo and stalked him after school to get him to tell me why he didn’t want to stay with me. I was pretty. I was smart. I was nice. I put out. Why didn’t he love me back?”
“That must have been hard,” said Dr. Michelle.
“Yeah.”
“But?” asked Dr. Michelle.
“Whenever anybody tells you that it’s them, not you, they are lying through their teeth, just trying to make you feel better,” said Sasha.
“Why do you think that?”
“He made me feel small,” said Sasha. “Smaller than I’ve ever been before. Because this time, he was somebody I really wanted with my whole skin and bone and heart. But for
Damon I was just another girl. Just another body. I did not exist.”
“I don’t understand,” said Dr. Michelle.
“He sure loved Ricky,” said Sasha. “All Ricky had to do was exist.”
“Babies have special powers,” said Dr. Michelle, smiling.
“I think I ended up hating Damon the most.”
“Why?”
“Because at first, he was so decent,” said Sasha. “When he told me that we shouldn’t do it any more, he said it was because he didn’t care for me like I cared about him and it wasn’t fair to me. That was decent. But then he must have found out about what happened with the Death Lords and he wasn’t decent anymore.”
“That must have been hard to take.”
“Craig and his boys are evil demons and that was awful,” said Sasha. “But if a decent boy thought I was just a body, it must be true. Sasha the person was irrelevant.”
UNDEAD
April 20,
The dead do walk. I was living proof. The zombie apocalypse is me. From April to June, my senior year of high school, I staggered through a horror movie life, dead but walking. I just didn’t eat people.
Dead Sasha went to class. She could feel all eyes on her. She could hear the snickers. My teachers looked at her, concerned. Dead Sasha got all my awards at graduation. She smiled. The family took pictures. There was an awesome open house. I got mad gifts and money. The whole summer, she sat in my room, read books and listened to my I-pod. Sad song after sad song after sad. Dead Sasha listened to my mama talk about taking her shopping for college dorm stuff. Then, in August, I started throwing up and pain slammed back into Dead Sasha’s body. I felt every ache, every cell in my body bled with anguish. Teenaged. Pregnant. Again.
After Mama kicked me out and Althea said I couldn’t bring baby mama drama to her and Daddy’s family, I ran away to the Hades called a Battered women’s shelter for two months. I was totally disconnected from everybody. I didn’t even have a phone.
The shelter taught me to appreciate the devils I knew.
I moved back home to Mama’s. I felt thankful. I had a warm home, my own bedroom, all my stuff was there just like I’d left it two months before. I had my cell phone even though there was almost no one to call. I didn’t want to talk to Gabby. I didn’t want her to know what a messed-up horror movie my life had turned into. I could have my own reality show. I was sick with anger, ready for some payback. I was fired up. I was going to do what my group leader at the homeless shelter told me to do. I was going to take charge of my life. I was reborn, a new, ruthless woman. I was going to pay back all stupid, inconsiderate, criminal, Cro-Magnon men. Nobody was going to grab my hair again. Nobody was going to poke my forehead with his finger again.
“I feel shame,” said Sasha. “All the time. It never goes away.
”
“Why?”
“Don’t you think I should be ashamed?”
“What I think of you is not as important as what you think of yourself,” said Dr. Michelle.
“I feel like I can’t move,” said Sasha. “I’m stuck in, what’s that thing that dead people get when they go all stiff?”
“Rigor mortis.”
“Yeah,” said Sasha, nodding. “I’m stuck stiff and frozen at the beginning of a shame-filled window of time that will never end.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sasha rocked back and forth, hugging herself.
“Let me tell you a story about Tamar,” said Dr. Michelle.
“That’s my middle name,” said Sasha, dully.
“It’s a pretty name.”
“Mama says it’s in the Bible.”
“Tamar’s one of those women in the Bible that you say you know nothing about,” said Dr. Michelle.
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “I hate Bible study. It’s all Jezebels and purity and killing. Ugh.”
“Anyway,” said Dr. Michelle. “Tamar was married to this guy, Er, the son of Judah. He was evil, so God punished him with death.”
“That’s harsh,” said Sasha.
“By the laws of the Levite’s his brother, Onan, was supposed to give Tamar a baby.”
“Oh, that’s nasty!” said Sasha. “I mean what if Tamar couldn’t stand Onan?”
“I don’t know,” said Michelle. “But you want to hear the story?”
“Not really,” said Sasha. “But you’re gonna tell it...”
“Anyway,” said Dr. Michelle and playfully rolled her eyes. “A baby was the best gift in biblical times. Onan wouldn’t do it because then, Tamar’s child would inherit instead of Onan or his line. Onan died, too, as punishment for his disobedience. Judah had a third son, but he was too young. Tamar waited, but still didn’t get her baby. Judah was mad at Tamar. He called her cursed.”
“See,” said Sasha. “Even in the Bible women can’t catch a break.”
“Judah’s wife had died,” Dr. Michelle continued. “Tamar disguised herself as a prostitute and made a deal with Judah. She was covered up, so he didn’t see her face. He didn’t know who she was. She traded herself for his staff, seal and cord.
