Sharp Curves Ahead

by Allison Hobbs

  Completely unhinged, Bailee, who was usually dignified, had become wild-eyed, snarling like a rabid animal that was backed into a corner.

  The men seated at the table had been waiting for her to fail and now that the moment had finally arrived, Bailee didn’t see any point in trying to hold herself together.

  Thrashing, kicking, and screaming like a madwoman, she was led out of the conference room by Fred’s assistant, Claudia Kolinski, a sturdy woman whom Bailee was friendly with. In addition to Claudia, there were two other female staff members, whom Fred had enlisted with a phone call.

  Alternately laughing and weeping, Bailee dug her heels in, making it difficult for the women to usher her out of the room. “I didn’t fail; it wasn’t my mistake. I’m always prepared and all of you damn well know it!”

  Once the three women had managed to haul her out of the conference room and into the corridor, Bailee, a total basket case, slid down to the floor. With her back propped against the wall, she cried and kicked out her legs in a defiant manner usually reserved for toddlers.

  She was unable to rein herself in, and helplessly watching herself implode was like having an out-of-body experience.

  “Bailee, you have to get up,” Claudia beseeched her. But Bailee continued kicking.

  Unable to reason with her, Claudia called for the help of security.

  A team of uniformed men led by the head of security, a thirty-something black man named Reuben Daniels, rushed onto the thirty-second floor, ready to manhandle the perpetrator if necessary. When Reuben saw that it was Bailee causing the ruckus, he brusquely motioned for his men to return to their posts. He also shooed the hovering female assistants away.

  He got down on one knee. “What’s going on, Ms. Evans?” he asked gently.

  “Everyone’s against me, Reuben…and I mean, everyone!” she bawled. “My mother, my husband, and now my assistant,” she divulged, realizing that she sounded like a crazed conspiracy theorist, but unable to stop herself.

  “I’ve been instructed to escort you off the premises, and I have to do my job. So, let’s not give these people more of a show. Will you come with me willingly?” Reuben asked, holding out a hand.

  Whimpering, she grasped his hand as if she’d been extended a lifeline. He gingerly pulled her to her feet and ushered her toward the bank of elevators. “Someone grab Ms. Evans’ coat and her purse,” he barked at a group of onlookers.

  He glanced down at Bailee and asked in a softened tone, “Is there anything else you want from your office?”

  She shook her head.

  Moments later, Macy, unable to conceal a grin, brought Bailee’s coat and bag and handed the items to her.

  Reuben led Bailee down a secluded hallway. “I’ve decided we’ll use the service elevator…for privacy,” he explained.

  Bailee nodded solemnly. Reuben’s thoughtfulness touched her heart. He’d always treated Bailee well and was kind and courteous at all times. He seemed to regard her with pride and approval for representing black folks in her prestigious position at the bank, and she was immensely sorry that she had caused him embarrassment.

  Regretting that she’d let Reuben down, a sob tore from her throat, and the sound was so guttural and pained, she barely recognized it as her own voice.

  Uncomfortable with the raw emotion that Bailee displayed, Reuben’s eyes shifted downward. “You’re not in any shape to drive, so I’ll put you in a cab,” he said, his eyes trained on his polished black shoes.

  Again, Bailee nodded mutely.

  As her senses gradually returned, she was flooded with humiliation over her behavior. She could never show her face at First Mutual Bank again. Not ever! If she wasn’t already fired, she undoubtedly had to quit. She determined that first thing tomorrow, she’d submit her resignation.

  In retrospect, she wished that on her way out, she had given Macy a swift kick in the shins. Or better yet, a punch in the face.

  But physical violence would have brought on an assault charge, and Bailee already had had more problems than she could handle.

  * * *

  The tremendous pain of the losses Bailee had suffered was unremitting and incapacitating. There was no way to escape it. Although her emotions ran high at all times, causing her to cry at the drop of a hat, the upside to being jobless, husbandless, and motherless was that Bailee had lost her appetite for two days, and she hoped she’d emerge from her personal horror show as a much thinner version of herself.

  With significant weight loss, maybe she’d find the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe her life wouldn’t seem so hopeless.

  But on the third day, her appetite returned with a vengeance.

  Bailee promptly went to the website of an expensive restaurant and selected enough gourmet food to feed an army. The total of her takeout order was three hundred and twelve dollars, and Bailee didn’t bat an eye as she keyed in her credit card information. She needed the food like a drowning woman needed a life raft.

  Before leaving her condo, she threw a coat over her pajamas, put on old, scuffed boots. She didn’t bother to check her reflection in the mirror or tame her locs that were sticking out all over her head. Resembling Medusa, she trotted outside to her car.

  Dressed inappropriately in her nightclothes, she walked boldly inside the exclusive restaurant and was oblivious to the stares that both patrons and staff aimed in her direction as she collected three large shopping bags that overflowed with steaming food containers.

  Back in her car, she placed one shopping bag on the front passenger’s seat and the other two were situated on the floor in the back. During the drive home, the assorted aromas pervaded her nostrils, causing her to drive with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other groping inside the shopping bag, blindly opening plastic containers until her fingers located the Parmesan Truffle Fries.

  When the piping hot, cheesy-tasting fry touched her tongue, she lowered her eyelids blissfully, and then stepped on the accelerator, impatiently wanting to hurry home to begin the feast.

  At home, she set out the copious amount of containers on the island and excitedly sampled one dish after another. As the combined flavors exploded in her mouth, she could feel a warm feeling slowly building, embracing her like a much-needed hug.

  Chapter 17

  Dodging debt collectors had taken a toll on her emotions, and Jayla no longer answered any calls from numbers she didn’t recognize. Feeling like the walls were closing in on her, she didn’t open collection letters, either. She was aware that inaction was not the best course of action, but she was completely immobilized by fear and needed a break from listening to and reading threats from bill collectors.

  After it was clear that Sadeeq wasn’t going to pay the bill, she continued to procrastinate while trying to figure out exactly what to do, and somewhere along the way, her original debt was sold to a third-party collection agency, and the amount that she owed had somehow tripled. The aggressive tactics of the third-party agency were so far out of the bounds of the law that Jayla had no choice but to change her phone number.

  Mentally exhausted from everything in her life: her weight, being used and abused by Sadeeq, and owing money to everyone and their mother, Jayla drove home from work with a heavy heart. She should have never allowed her situation to get so far out of hand.

  Hindsight was twenty-twenty, and she now realized that had she set up a nominal monthly payment plan, her debt would have never been sold and her credit would not be destroyed. Now that the third-party collectors were involved in recovering the debt, they had begun calling her job, which was completely embarrassing. The receptionist at work put a stop to the harassing calls at work, but not until she told all the other agents about Jayla’s awful financial predicament.

  With a heavy sigh, Jayla turned on her blinkers to make a left turn into the parking lot of her building. Suddenly, Mr. Murphy, from across the street, came hobbling out of his house, waving his arms, determinedly flagging Jayla down.

  Ann
oyed, she hit the brakes and lowered her window.

  His timing was so perfect, she wondered if he’d been looking out of his window, waiting for her. He was block captain as well as the president of the Community Development League, and she assumed he wanted to tell her about a new problem in the neighborhood and invite her to an emergency, problem-solving meeting.

  Damn! I just went to one of his dreary, mind-numbing meetings last week! I wish he’d leave me alone.

  Times like tonight, she hated that she was buying her condo. Mr. Murphy wouldn’t feel the need to constantly update her on neighborhood issues if she were merely a renter.

  “Hey, Jayla, how are you?” he asked, hands stuck in his coat pockets, his shoulders hunched against the wind.

  “I’m fine,” she said curtly. “What can I do for you?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “I’m not trying to get in your business or anything, but the wife wanted me to speak to you about a problem we’ve been having.”

  She frowned in aggravation. “What sort of problem?”

  “Well, we’ve been getting numerous phone calls from a collection agency, asking if we know anyone named Jayla Carpenter who lives on our street.”

  Oh, no! This gossiping muthafucka is going to tell the whole neighborhood that I’m drowning in debt.

  “Now, I don’t know how these people found the wife and me, but Miriam thinks we were easily located because we have a landline.”

  Flooded with embarrassment, Jayla groaned inwardly and ran a gloved hand down her face. “I’m sorry you’re being harassed, Mr. Murphy. Those predatory collectors are using deceptive tactics. Just tell them you don’t know me and tell them you’ll file a complaint if they don’t leave you alone.”

  “Well, now, we’ve tried that, but they keep calling. Miriam and I are debt-free and although we don’t have the right to tell you how to live your life, it’s not fair for us to get harassed while you’re living in peace.”

  “What the hell do you expect me to do, Mr. Murphy?” The words came out much harsher than she’d intended, and Mr. Murphy flinched as if he’d been slapped.

  He held a high opinion of himself and expected to be treated with the utmost courtesy. The simmering anger that glinted in his eyes as he regarded Jayla was so chilling, she wondered if he was going to punch her, and she considered rolling her window up.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you what happened to that young fella that used to come around—the one that drove the dark-colored SUV,” he said in an ominous tone.

  “Uh, he, um…”

  “He’s gone, huh?” he said with a sneer. “A few weeks ago, he was all up in them yams, but I suppose he got bored with you and moved on to the next simple-minded woman.”

  Indignant, Jayla lifted an eyebrow. “Excuse you!” I can’t believe this old, filthy-mouthed bastard is all in my face and insinuating that I’m a used-up skeezer.

  One side of Mr. Murphy’s mouth lifted up in an evil smile. “When you heavy-set girls start getting some self-respect for yourselves and stop letting these young, fuck boys treat you like cum buckets, you’ll be much better off. Anyone can lay wood, but it takes a real man to provide for a woman and treat her right.”

  “You got a lot of nerve trying to lecture me like you’re my father,” Jayla spat. “I don’t recall asking for your advice. I’m a grown woman and I pay my own damn bills—”

  “Obviously, you don’t pay your bills. If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, now would we?” he said with triumph gleaming in his eyes. “Maybe if you stopped giving the milk away for free, those hooligans you associate with would have no choice but to buy the cow.”

  “You out of line, nigga. You better kiss my ass and stay the hell out of my business.” Jayla was livid and on the verge of hopping out of her car and throwing hands with the old man.

  “You made it my business when your creditors started harassing my wife and me,” he countered with a wide smile that revealed a set of teeth that were too white and too large to be real.

  “Fuck you, Mr. Murphy. I don’t have to listen to your shit.” Glaring at him, she gave him the finger and then rolled up the window. Stepping hard on the accelerator, her tires squealed as she shot forward and then made a sharp, screeching right turn into her building’s parking lot.

  After parking, she stomped angrily from her car to the entryway of the building. As she rode the elevator up to her floor, her phone rang. She dug the phone out of her bag and observed on the screen a number she didn’t recognize. She accepted the call because none of the bill collectors had her new number.

  “Hello?” she said, wondering if Sadeeq had finally gotten out of jail and had somehow managed to get her number. Although she was through with him, she welcomed an opportunity to curse him out.

  “Hello, Jayla Carpenter, this is Peggy from Regional Recovery, LLC—”

  Jayla gasped in shock. “How’d you get this number?”

  “Your neighbor, Mr. Murphy, was very helpful. But that’s beside the point. You have forty-eight hours to pay your debt in full or we plan to freeze your bank accounts and send a tow truck to confiscate your 2009 blue Subaru Impreza Sedan.”

  “Bitch, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but I know for a fact that you don’t have the legal right to freeze shit or confiscate a damn thing from me. You better use your scare tactics on someone that doesn’t know any better.”

  Incensed, Jayla hung up. Although she had talked tough on the phone, she wasn’t quite sure if the debt collectors had the power to act out on their threats. That snitch-ass Mr. Murphy wasn’t shit. She’d given him her new number at the last community meeting, and being vindictive, he gave her number to the collection people.

  It would be a snowy day in hell before she’d ever step foot inside another Community Development meeting. That bastard was going to miss the sweet potato pies and the expensive Starbucks hot chocolate she used to bring to his stupid meetings. Ungrateful bastard!

  Searching for a way to feel better, Jayla pressed the Instagram icon, curious to see if Sadeeq had recently updated his page. She was hoping to see the same old pics that had been posted for the past few weeks, which would indicate he was still behind bars. But, to her chagrin, Jayla discovered she’d been blocked.

  Changing tactics, she used her fake profile to view his page, but his page had been changed to private.

  She immediately went to Radiance’s page, and was relieved that it hadn’t been changed to private.

  But she instantly regretted allowing her curiosity to get the best of her.

  There were three rows of new photos that depicted the Samuelson family in all their ghetto glory. One picture showed a shelf that was filled with liquor bottles of every type, along with two glitzy, oversized goblets that were emblazoned with gold letters that spelled out His and Hers.

  Jayla turned her nose up at the crass display.

  There was a photo of Radiance wearing a tiara and a T-shirt with the words: Magnificent 30 airbrushed across the front. The bitch had recently celebrated her thirtieth birthday and from her big smile, you’d never dream that her ass had been sitting in the clink for the past couple of weeks.

  A picture of Sadeeq holding little Nafeese touched Jayla’s heart a little. The child was wearing Sadeeq’s oversized ball cap and he looked so cute. But Jayla flipped when she came across a picture of Radiance sitting on Sadeeq’s lap, with the caption: Date Night.

  Date-Fuckin-Night! This bum nigga and his trash bitch are enjoying their lives like it’s all good. Meanwhile, I’m in a living hell and being persecuted over bills that I didn’t create.

  She kicked the coffee table so hard, a bowl that was filled with decorative pinecones tumbled off and the sparkly objects flew all around the room.

  Envy and rage cut like a knife. She would typically soothe those emotions with a quick run to KFC or Taco Bell, but food wasn’t the answer this time. She knew with certainty that she wouldn’t find any peace until she satisf
ied her urge for revenge.

  The pocketknife in her purse probably wouldn’t penetrate the way she wanted it to, so she trotted to the kitchen and took a long, sharp knife out of a drawer.

  Outside, the starless sky was a brooding shade of deep purple. She hadn’t intended to go back out into the cold night air, but fortunately, her anger enveloped her like a bubble of warmth.

  She smiled throughout the drive from Mount Airy to Nicetown, and when she reached Glenwood Avenue, she parked at the end of the raggedy block and crept to the middle where Sadeeq’s SUV was parked. The streetlights were defective, preventing any illumination of the vehicle.

  Shrouded in darkness, Jayla knelt down on the cold pavement and went to work. The tires were so sturdy, she had to apply lots of pressure to get the tip of the blade inside the thick rubber. When she finally heard the sound of air whooshing out of the first tire, she felt a rush of adrenaline that gave her the energy to deflate the remaining tires.

  All right, pussy, let’s see how far you’ll get driving around on rims.

  She felt good, but the feeling of elation was short-lived. Instead of going straight home, she ended up making detours to both KFC and Taco Bell. At KFC, she bought extra crispy tenders, biscuits, and potato wedges. At Taco Bell, she bought every item on the dollar menu.

  Back at home, with only crumbs left from the food she’d devoured, Jayla sank down on the sofa feeling bloated and miserable. Deeply ashamed of herself, she dropped her head in her hands and cried. The helpless sobs that emerged seemed to come from the very depths of her soul.

  She hugged herself and rocked back and forth, whispering, “Why can’t I be like a normal person and eat regular-sized portions of food?” Sniffling and crying, she continued her self-directed tirade. “I hate being so fucking greedy. If I don’t stop binge-eating, and get some self-control, I’m going to end up being a bed-ridden bitch that weighs four or five hundred pounds and requires a crane to lift my big ass out of bed. That’s not cute!”