by Ava Miles
“I’ve been on enough home visits,” she said immediately. “I can do it alone.”
Jasinda had waited a week to call and say she wanted to move forward with the protection order and separation. The next part of the process was on their shoulders, but they needed to act quickly since women who were in bad situations sometimes changed their minds if they were given too much time to reconsider. The home interview would provide critical information for the legal case.
“Plus you’ve trained me well.”
Most of what she’d learned had come from on-the-job experience. Felicia didn’t believe so much in protocols as common sense. Community didn’t have a guidebook for how to conduct a good interview or de-escalate a situation heading toward violence with a client. The majority of Felicia’s advice and guidance was based on her own practical experience.
Felicia poured herself another cup of coffee, clearly ruminating as she stirred in more sugar. “Okay, then. You can go alone. Sometimes we have to be flexible. This is why I need more grant money for staff. Heck, everything.”
Money was always a problem, and the clinic functioned on a shoe-string budget.
A gusty sigh blew the steam billowing from Felicia’s coffee. “Ignore me. I’m having a moment. Just remember, you do what the client wants. First, last, and always. Assess the home situation and—”
“Take good notes,” she finished. “Felicia, I know what to do, and I won’t break the cardinal rule by doing anything Jasinda doesn’t want.”
It was a hard lesson that Felicia had driven home from the very beginning of her time at the clinic. No matter how horrible a woman’s injuries, they couldn’t force her to call the police or leave her husband.
Her boss patted her on the back, a rare gesture that made her smile. “Go on, then. And don’t come back here when you finish. It will be close to the end of your shift. Just type up your notes as soon as you get the chance.”
“I know, I know. While it’s fresh in my mind.”
“I do believe you’re getting to know me well, Amelia.”
They shared a look. “Wish me luck.”
“Luck is for people who create it,” Felicia said and walked out of the break room. “Text me if you need anything.”
After finishing up the protection order she was working on for another client, Amelia Ann drove to Jasinda’s house across town. By bus it was an hour, but Amelia Ann arrived in thirty minutes. She’d thought the law clinic was in a bad neighborhood, but the area where Jasinda lived was so dangerous that no social services existed there, having been forced out by crime and gang harassment.
Jasinda’s apartment complex was one of those bring-your-own-light bulb motel types. The parking lot’s asphalt hadn’t been paved in what looked like a century given the mammoth cracks. The atmosphere was so dry and dirty and lifeless that even the weeds were dying.
And the smell...it was foul and metallic—overpowering even from the inside of her car. She continued her assessment of the living conditions. Garbage overflowed from a receptacle that hadn’t been emptied in some time, and she cringed at the sight of a few furry creatures with long tails streaking through it. The sad fact was that even garbage services were afraid to visit neighborhoods like this one. Considering all the broken or burned out windows and the vulgar graffiti that coated half the buildings she could see, it wasn’t hard to understand why.
Her biggest concern was the small gang of young men who were playing rap music by an old, beat-up white Cadillac with shiny rims. Jasinda was on the second floor, and she’d have to pass them to get to the stairs. It didn’t matter that she’d dressed down in jeans, a sweatshirt, and a nondescript ball cap she kept in her glove compartment for her home visits. It didn’t matter that her pretty blond hair was pulled back.
She was a woman. And men in this part of town preyed on people like her. They cat-called and crowded women because no one would stop them.
Her hands were already sweating, her heart racing. This was worse than she’d expected, but she wasn’t going to cave. The fear of leaving her car nearly paralyzed her muscles, but her client lived here. She had a job to do, so she firmed her shoulders and opened the car door.
The men had been watching her vehicle, and the Alpha in the group pushed off his hood as she approached.
“Well, well, if we don’t have one fine mama coming to visit our hood today. Who are you here to see, honey? Because you’re going to be a little late. You and me have some business to attend to. Right, boys?”
The other men made horrible mmhmm and uhhuh sounds that gave her a chill. No one would help her if he continued to harass her.
She’d planned to ignore them like she’d been taught, but the Alpha sauntered to the stairs and blocked her passage. The others closed around him, forming a half circle to block her retreat.
“Sorry, but I have a friend to meet,” she said in as even a tone as she could muster, meeting his eyes.
They were red-rimmed, but he wasn’t on drugs. She knew the difference now, as Felicia had pointed out the signs to her at the clinic. Anyone on drugs was asked to leave Community.
“Step aside,” she said with more edge in her voice.
“Oohh, skinny girl has some teeth,” Alpha said, bumping her with his body. “Usually I like me some curves, but in your case, sweet thang, I’ll make an exception.”
Go with strength, she decided. “In your dreams, sweet thang. Now, get out of my way.”
Her heart beat madly in her chest as he stared at her for a few seconds without looking away. Finally he held up his hands. “Your loss, sugar. Ask Marietta at the top of the stairs about taking a ride with me. You might change your mind.”
“Cam, you let my friend pass.” Jasinda stood at the top of the stairs with her hands on her hips. “Right now.”
“She’s a friend of yours, Jasinda? Why haven’t we seen her around before?”
“She’s a new friend.”
“Does Damon know about your new friend, Jasinda? You know how jealous he is of anyone taking up your time.”
“Damon’s gone to visit some friends. He won’t mind me having one over. Come on up here, Amelia Ann.” Jasinda held out her hand.
“Amelia, huh? Now that’s a pretty name for a pretty lady.”
“And you are so full of shit,” she told him as she passed him.
His boys went “Ohhh…” like a chorus, and she heard a scuffle below. Though she didn’t look, she expected it meant someone had gotten shoved by the defeated Cam.
She forced her legs not to run up the stairs, away from them. God, how did Jasinda live with this kind of harassment every day? She’d experienced her fair share on other home visits, but no one had ever caged her in like that before. When she reached the top of the steps, Jasinda grabbed her hand and pulled her down the balcony, past a pasty blond-headed woman sitting in a folding chair outside of an apartment.
“Cam does give a good ride, honey,” the woman called out.
“Ignore her,” Jasinda said. “Marietta trolls with anyone when she’s high.”
Though her insides were quivering, Amelia Ann realized she wasn’t the only one who was afraid. When they reached the door, Jasinda’s hands shook as she unlocked it.
Calvin and Kylie immediately rushed forward and hugged their mother’s legs. “Let me lock the door, chickens.” Jasinda fumbled with the deadbolt and three chains before turning around.
The woman she was visiting looked like she was about ready to rabbit, the whites of her eyes shining bright in the muted light from an exposed bulb hanging from the cracked ceiling by wires.
“Cam’s going to tell Damon you were here,” Jasinda told her, patting the two kids, who were still clutching at her faded brown cotton dress. “I can feel it. He and his boys are always down at the local bar at this time of day. I thought it would be safe for you to visit. You said you needed to come here so we could move forward.”
“Let’s all calm down,” she told her. “I’m here now, an
d I don’t have to stay long.”
“I hope your car is going to be okay,” Jasinda told her, weaving in place. “I’m afraid someone’s going to steal it or slash the tires.”
“It’ll be fine,” she responded as calmly as she could—a feat since her heart was pounding in her chest. Even though the car was a leased clunker, it still was her only ride out of here. She’d bet the farm no taxi service served this part of town.
“If Damon finds you here, he might pop you in the eye too,” Jasinda said with a hysterical laugh. “Then we’ll be twins.”
No man had ever hit Amelia Ann. She didn’t plan on changing that today.
“Jasinda, if you’re really worried about your safety, we can leave right now. You don’t have to stay here.”
Women’s shelters were waiting list only in most cases, but in an emergency, Community always managed to find a spot for someone, even if it was only for one night until something else could be arranged.
“But I don’t have anywhere to go,” the woman responded in a high-pitched voice. Then she shook herself. “No, it will be all right. I’m just being paranoid. Calvin, you watch for your daddy while Amelia Ann’s here, all right?”
He went to the window immediately and took up his post like a little soldier. It was obvious he had done it before, which made her want to weep for him. His little shirt had a faded Superman logo on it, and it was clear he took his role as his mama’s protector seriously.
“Is it always like that?” she asked. “Getting past those guys?”
Jasinda let out a deep breath and took another. “Yes, Cam harasses all the women here,” she finally said. “Some of them have decided it’s easier to be friendly with him. Lucky for me, he’s afraid Damon will beat him to death, so he’d never try anything.”
Lucky for her? She called that luck? Reminding herself not to judge her client’s choices, she focused on controlling her own breathing to calm her erratic heart rate.
“You were brave. Standing up to Cam is the only thing that works.” Jasinda hugged Kylie to her. “Unless he’s high or drunk.”
“He’s a mean drunk,” Calvin said from the window.
She crossed over to the little boy and squatted down beside him with a gentle smile. Imagine knowing who was a safe or mean drunk at seven years old? Had Rory known that about his daddy? She’d seen Sterling drink too much at the country club before—many times. Tammy used to drive him home after making excuses. Felicia’s advice filtered into her head, and she clicked off any more comparisons. These people were different. Their tragedy was their own.
“You’re a good boy, Calvin. Thanks for watching out for me.”
“You’re welcome,” the little boy said.
She rose and turned to face his sister. “Hey, Kylie. I’m so happy to see where y’all live. Would you like to give me a tour?”
“It’s not much,” Jasinda said when Kylie didn’t respond. “So you should be able to leave quickly. Not that I don’t want you here. I just—”
“It’s okay, Jasinda,” she said. “I won’t be long. I promise.”
The walls had been white some time ago, but now they were mostly gray with scuff marks on them. There was a hole in the sheetrock, and given the shape and size, it looked like a fist had gone through it. She glanced up at Jasinda’s face, taking note of the fading bruise on her right cheekbone in shades of yellow and purple.
It sickened her, but she knew the colors of bruising, the body’s message for how recent or severe the violence had been.
Felicia wanted her to assess the conditions in the home, and she was certainly getting a feel for the misery and terror this family lived in day in and day out. It was never truly real until you saw it for yourself.
There was a used green couch with cigarette burns on the arms, and one big Barcalounger in front of the flat screen TV, the only thing of obvious value in the apartment. She wondered if Damon had stolen it. Old board games and a few worn toys were neatly stacked in the corner between two little chairs. Jasinda might not be able to give her kids a playroom or new clothes and toys, but she provided for them. Tried to help them be children despite the chaos of their lives.
“Damon likes his shows,” Jasinda said, gesturing to the flat screen. “Our landlord found a way to steal cable and has his tenants pay him for the service. He’s an awful man.”
Amelia Ann took her phone from her pocket. She’d been trained not to bring a legal pad to meetings like this one. Clients were more comfortable—more open to sharing—if they kept things sociable. Photos were a different matter, and there were a few she could take that would be of interest to the court.
“Would it be okay if I took some pictures?”
“Ah…sure,” Jasinda replied, putting a hand to her face in shame.
“Why don’t you show me the rest of your home?” she asked, reaching down to give Kylie a gentle caress on her arm.
Jasinda led her to the kids’ small room, painted a pale green. Bunk beds with purple comforters were neatly made. There were worn posters on the wall of Care Bears and Marvel superheroes. More toys, some old Barbies and trucks, were arranged in a worn straw basket.
“I’ve tried to make it nice for them. The local church had a used paint campaign, and the Goodwill isn’t close, but I bring back what I can for them. It’s hard without a car. Not that I’m making excuses.”
“It’s lovely,” she said with a smile. When she thought of her own childhood, and all the new toys she’d owned, she felt ashamed. “Do you like your room, Kylie? Which bed do you sleep in?”
The girl finally pointed to the bottom bunk, and Amelia Ann wanted nothing more than to snatch her—so painstakingly dressed in a hand-me-down navy dress and purple tights—into a hug and take her away from this place.
Jasinda showed her the bathroom, which had a leaky faucet, and again, there were more toys in a small crate near the toilet. Her bedroom—or the one she shared with Damon—didn’t have any of the niceties in the kids’ room, and Amelia Ann suspected she’d reserved any special items for her children. A black comforter with a few tears on it covered the bed, and the faded white lampshade was too small for the dented brass base. The pillows looked like lumps of odd-sized clay.
“I told you it’s not much,” Jasinda said, rushing forward to straighten the edge of the comforter.
“He’s coming, Mama,” Calvin yelled, and Jasinda went rigid, her head turning toward his voice.
Amelia Ann’s heart returned to racing in an instant.
Jasinda grabbed Kylie and pushed her into the bathroom. “Hide in the shower, sugar. Amelia Ann, you’ve gotta leave. Now.”
Calvin ran into the bathroom with his sister, and she stood frozen as the kids huddled together in the bathtub. Dear God.
Jasinda shut the door and wrapped a hand around Amelia Ann’s arm, then pulled her back toward her bedroom.
She protested. “But I need to—”
“I wasn’t thinking. Damon’s gonna see you if you leave now. Cam must have called him, dammit. You’re gonna have to hide. I’ll tell Damon you’re already gone.”
Hide? Cold sweat ran down her spine. “I can’t hide, Jasinda. That will only make things worse.”
Especially if he found her…
“If he sees you, he’ll beat the shit out of me and maybe the kids this time. He’ll know I’m leaving him. I don’t want him to hurt my kids. Please.”
The fact that the choices before her were all terrible was punctuated by the clench of Jasinda’s hand on her arm, which was nearing toward pain. God. What to do? She ran through her options, realizing there was only one. She couldn’t be the reason Jasinda and the kids were beaten, but she couldn’t hide here either.
“Let me call the cops. They’ll get you out of here.”
Jasinda shook her. “Are you kidding? Girl, you have no idea how things work around here. The cops don’t come when you call. Not unless there’s a bunch of people dead on the street out front.”
She
’d heard the same thing about the cops—not only from Felicia, but from other women in the clinic. While she knew it was true, she couldn’t abide hiding.
“Jasinda—”
“You told me I call the shots,” the woman interrupted with more edge in her voice than Amelia Ann had ever heard. “Well, I’m telling you to hide until he leaves. Come on. You’re skinny enough to fit under the bed. When Damon gets here, I’ll tell him Cam was only causing trouble again. He’ll believe me since he knows Cam doesn’t like me. I’ll give Damon a beer and calm him down, then you can sneak out when he falls asleep. He’s usually so high or drunk when he comes home that he knocks off right away. I’ll tell you when it’s safe.”
Sweet mother of God. Felicia had told her to do what the client wanted, but this? Her mind was spinning. “Let me text Felicia, at least.”
“Fine, but she ain’t here, is she? Come on,” Jasinda said, dragging her by the arm toward the bed. “We don’t have much time.”
“Jasinda. Where are you, girl?” a man’s voice boomed out.
Hearing the anger in Damon’s slurred voice made the decision for her. Better to hide than face him and escalate the situation.
“Get under the bed and stay quiet…no matter what you hear,” Jasinda whispered, shoving her to the floor. “I’ll come get you when it’s safe.”
Amelia Ann wiggled under the bed, her gut rock hard with terror. How long would it take for Damon to fall asleep?
She made sure her phone was on silent. Her hands shook as she fumbled to text something factual and unemotional to her boss. The predictive text function helped her compose the message quickly.
Husband showed up. I am hiding. Jasinda says he will fall asleep. Refused call to police. Any advice?
“Jasinda?” she heard Damon call out again. “I heard you had some slick, uppity white chick in this place. Everyone knows what it means when a bitch like that shows up in this neighborhood. Cam and his boys were ragging me about not keeping you happy. Are you thinking about leaving me?” he asked hoarsely.
When Jasinda cried out, Amelia Ann knew Damon had put his hands on her, and she had to grit her teeth together to keep from calling out.
