The Candy Shop

by Kiki Swinson

  “Faith, sweetheart, where have you been?” he asked me the moment she embraced me and led me into the house.

  “I’ve been staying at a friend’s house,” I replied as we walked in the direction of the kitchen.

  And as soon as we turned that corner, I saw my father-in-law sitting at the table with his face buried in his dinner plate. But, when he looked up to see that it was me, he leaped up from the chair and rushed over to hug me.

  “Girl, where you been?” he asked with much delight in his voice.

  I could truly sense that they were both being genuinely concerned about my well being, so I took a seat at the table and reiterated to him the exact same answer I just gave her when I walked through the front door. “I’ve been staying at a friend’s.”

  “Well, how have you been?” his questions continued.

  “Not too good, since Eric and I separated.”

  Mrs. Simmons stood directly behind me and began to rub my back and said, “Well, we kind of figured that when we hadn’t heard from you. But, we have been praying for you and God has shown us that you’re going to be all right.”

  “Did God show you that I was going to get my family back?” I asked her as my eyes became glassy.

  “Just put your life back together and we’ll help you work on that,” she told me.

  Hearing her response sent a clear message to me that my marriage was doomed. So, I placed my hands over my face and began to cry uncontrollably.

  “Y’all just don’t know, but I do want to get myself together. It’s so hard, though,” I told them.

  Mrs. Simmons embraced me with a huge bear hug and said, “But, it doesn’t have to be, baby. And if you’re ready to make a change, we will help you.”

  “We sure will.” My father-in-law took my hand in his. “Now, stop that crying, ’cause you gon’ be all right, darling.”

  “She sure will,” Mrs. Simmons commented and then she grabbed a paper towel from the counter and handed it to me.

  “Want something to eat?” Mr. Simmons asked as he took another bite of food from his plate.

  “Sure. I would love some,” I didn’t hesitate to say after I took inventory of his plate.

  “It looks good, huh?” his questions continued.

  After seeing how packed his plate was with the crispy fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, and corn on the cob, my reply to him was, “Yep, it sure does.”

  “Well, go on in the bathroom and wash your hands while I make you a plate,” Mrs. Simmons instructed me.

  “Okay,” I said and left the kitchen.

  When I returned, Mrs. Simmons had a placemat set up for me with a plate of piping hot food sitting on top of it. And there standing next to it was a tall glass of sweet iced tea. Boy, did I think I was in heaven.

  “Go ’head and enjoy,” she insisted as she took a seat next to mine and proceeded to dig into a plate of her own.

  Now during dinner, we chatted a little bit about where I was living, the issues with my car, and the deal about why I hadn’t been looking for employment. And through it all, I was blatantly honest with them and they appreciated it.

  After dinner was over, I took a long, hot shower and slipped in a pair of fitted BeBe jeans I had left there some time ago, since all my other clothes were dirty. Speaking of which, Mrs. Simmons also allowed me to wash all the clothes I had in my car. Too bad, I’d left the bulk of it back at Teresa’s apartment. But, it was okay. I’d get around to getting them later.

  Meanwhile, we all sat around in the den area and talked a little more. But if I would’ve known that they were going to be giving me jaw-dropping expressions, then I would’ve kept everything to myself. I mean, it was evident that they couldn’t handle what I was saying. But hey, it was too late! The cat had already been let out of the bag.

  “So, you mean to tell me you’ve been using anywhere from five to ten capsules of heroin a day?” Mrs. Simmons asked me as if she wanted some kind of clarification.

  “Yep,” I said as I nodded my head.

  “But, you’re not shooting it up, right?” Mr. Simmons interjected.

  “No, way! I’m too scared to push a needle in my arm.”

  “So, you say the lady you’re living is on heroin really bad as well?” Mrs. Simmons continued.

  “Yeah, but she’s worse off than I am.”

  “How so?” she wanted to know.

  I sighed heavily and said, “Mrs. Simmons, I have seen that girl go through a period of depression because of the loss of her brother. Then I’ve witnessed her get her butt kicked by different drug dealers, because she either stole something from them or owed them money; and then not even a hour goes by and she’s right back on her feet, with black eyes and busted lips, trying to mastermind another scheme to get her next high.”

  “Oh, my God! This girl is a walking time bomb,” she expressed.

  “You got that right,” Mr. Simmons interjected once again. “So, we gotta get you out of that environment and get you back to the status you used to be at.”

  “That’s right!” Mrs. Simmons declared as she began to massage my knee. “And if you’re ready, we can make a few phones calls today and get you on your way.”

  “We sure can. But, you’ve got to be ready,” he added.

  “Well, if this is the path I’ve gotta take to be reunited with my family, then I’m ready,” I assured them. “But, I’m gonna need to go back to my girlfriend’s apartment to get the rest of my things.”

  “How long will that take you to do that?” Mrs. Simmons wanted to know.

  “What time is it now?” I asked.

  Mr. Simmons looked down at his wrist watch and said, “It’s seven o’clock.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t take me no longer than an hour or two to pack up the rest of my things and tidy up a bit.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ’head and take care of it,” he said.

  “Yes, baby, hurry up and go on over there so you can get back here before it gets too late,” Mrs. Simmons added.

  “Okay, I will. But, I’m gonna need a small favor from you guys,” I said, with a little hesitation.

  “What’s that, sweetie?” Mrs. Simmons asked first.

  “Well, to be honest with you two, I rode over here on mere fumes. So, I was wondering if I could get a few dollars to put some gas in my tank.”

  “Oh sure, darling.” Mrs. Simmons replied.

  And then she looked at her husband and asked him if he had some cash on him.

  “Yeah, how much you need?” he asked her as he went into his wallet.

  “Just give me thirty dollars,” she instructed him. “That should be enough to fill up her gas tank.”

  So, immediately after he counted out thirty dollars exactly, he handed it straight to Mrs. Simmons who, in turn, handed it to me. And before it reached my hand, I told them both how much I appreciated their help.

  “You don’t have to thank us,” she told me. “Just show us your appreciation by taking that first step to getting yourself together.”

  “I will,” I promised them and then we all hugged as I was about to leave.

  “Hurry up and come back, now!” Mrs. Simmons said as she waved me off from her front door.

  “I will,” I assured her as I began to drive off.

  Now I was not lying when I told you how much relief I felt after airing out my dirty laundry to my in-laws. But, what really felt good was the fact that they did not judge me. All they required of me was for me to get my life back in order, and that’s just what I intended to do.

  Fucking with a Head-banger

  I only used fifteen of the thirty dollars to put some gas in my car, which wasn’t too bad, considering it gave me almost a half a tank. I kept the other fifteen in my pocket because I didn’t want to feel like I was broke all over again. Believe me, that was an awful feeling and I didn’t want to ever experience that again.

  Now, when I arrived back at Teresa’s apartment I noticed from the way I left the place
that she still had not made it back in, so instead of me coming there to do what I was supposed to do, I found myself walking back out the front door and taking a drive out to Grandy Park. I realized that I wouldn’t rest tonight unless I knew she was all right.

  When I got out there, the first person who rushed up to my car was Papoose. Now, the last time I saw this crazy motherfucker was when he brought my car back to me later than he was supposed to. And then, when I tried to straighten him out about it, he got in my face and threatened to fuck me up.

  So, after that incident happened, I made it my business to stay away from him. “I got that Predator,” he told me as he leaned into my car window.

  “I’m not trying to score right now. I came out here to see if I can find my girlfriend, Teresa.”

  “Who, that little skinny, light-skinned chick with the long hair?”

  “Yeah, so have you seen her?”

  “Nah, I ain’t seen her today. But, she came through last night, a couple times.”

  “Who was she with?”

  “I saw her with that ugly chick Zena the first time she came through. But, she was by herself the second time I saw her.”

  “Well, how long you been out here today?”

  “Damn, you sho’ asking a nigga a whole lot of mu’fucking questions not to be spending no money!” he replied in a sarcastic manner.

  “Look Papoose, I ain’t trying to clock you, for real. I’m just trying to find out if somebody seen her today, so I can stop worrying about her.”

  Papoose laughed and said, “Come on now, your peoples is a dope fiend. A fucking gutter rat. So, you ain’t supposed to be worried about her, ’cause she’s gon’ be a’ight!”

  “You know what, Papoose? She may be all those things, but she’s still my friend.”

  “What’s that, some kind of speech to form an allegiance for all the dope fiends?” he continued with more laughter.

  I didn’t find his comment funny, so I shook my head with disgust and said, “That’s really cute.”

  “Nah, what’s cute is you,” he said as he rubbed his hand across my shoulder. “I ain’t never seen you look like this. And your pussy looks real fat in dem jeans too,” he continued as he looked down at the crotch of my pants.

  Hearing this lame-ass nigga comment on how fat my pussy looked in my pants was not what I deemed a hot pick-up line, so I placed my right hand over my crotch and said, “Well, the reason why I look like this is because I’m trying to clean up my act.”

  “When did you decide to do that? ’Cause I just saw you out here day before yesterday.”

  “I know. But now, I’m tired of running these streets and then waking up in the morning with no money and no food to eat. So, I figured if I want a better life for myself, then I’ve got to go and check into a rehab center.”

  “So, when you gon’ do that?”

  “In the morning.”

  “Damn, that’s good,” he said, as he opened up his right hand. “But, before you go, let me give you a sample of this bomb-ass shit I got, as a going-away present.”

  “Nah, that’s all right,” I replied in a hesitant manner.

  “Girl, you better take this shit! ’Cause, it ain’t often that I give out freebies like this,” he insisted as he threw two pills onto my lap. “And just in case you decide that you ain’t trying to go to that rehab joint, come holler at me. I’ll put you up in a nice spot and you ain’t gotta ever worry about waking up without some dough in your pocket or food to eat, ’cause I’ll look out for you decent,” he continued, as he stood up and backed away from my car.

  I chuckled and said, “Yeah, right!”

  “Oh, so you think I’m joking?”

  “I don’t think you are. I know you are,” I replied with certainty.

  “Well, what am I gon’ have to do to show you that I’m serious as a mu’fucka?”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-three, why?”

  “Well, I’m thirty-five and I’m married. So, it’ll never work.”

  “A’ight! If you say so. But, if you decide to change your mind, come look me up, ’cause I can use a new girlfriend.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said with little or no enthusiasm at all. And then I pressed down on my accelerator and waved him off as I began to drive away. “Thanks,” I told him and kept right on going.

  Now, don’t get me wrong, the guy was a cutie himself. And he reminded me of that R&B singer Tyrese. I’m talking about the height, the blackness of his skin complexion, not to mention his body. And not only that, homeboy was wearing the hell out of a fucking white tank top. He even had a nice build. But, the motherfucker was crazy! So, all that shit he was talking, he could save it for one of those little hood rat chicks out there, because I wasn’t going for it. Not today, or tomorrow. And that was some real shit!

  So, as I continued to cruise down the main strip, I looked down and grabbed both caps of dope from my lap and slid them in the top right side pocket of my jeans. And the moment I looked up, there standing at the corner, looking like she was about to cross the street, was Zena, so I immediately pulled my car over to the curb and called out her name.

  “What’s up?” she said as she approached the car, looking half dead with a ton of open sores all over her arms, legs and neck.

  “You seen Teresa today?” I didn’t hesitate to ask.

  “Yeah, she just came through here about two hours ago.”

  “Did she say whether or not she was going back home?”

  “Nah, she didn’t say. But, she was wit’ that nigga Walt, so they probably went back to his spot.”

  “Who is he? And where does he be at?” My questions continued as I tried to jog my memory as to who he was.

  “You don’t know Walt?” she asked me.

  “Not to my knowledge,” I assured her.

  “I’m surprised, ’cause everybody knows that crafty-ass nigga.”

  “How does he look?”

  “Shit, he looks like us! He ain’t nothing but a fucking junkie, like the rest of us.”

  “I kind of figured that much out. But, is he tall, short, what?”

  “Oh he’s a tall, old-school nigga with a whole bunch of hair on his face. And he always wearing this red baseball cap.”

  “Where is his spot?”

  “He lives out Huntersville, on ‘A’ Avenue. Mu’fuckas who ain’t got nowhere to go be camping out over there. But, in order for you to get through the door, you gon’ either have to pay the house man two dollars or share your dope wit’ ’em.”

  “So, I’m assuming that Walt is the house man.”

  “That’s right,” she replied and then, out of nowhere, she started digging in several of the open sores on her arm.

  “Girl, you need to take your ass to the hospital and have them look at that before it gets infected,” I warned her.

  “It’s already infected,” she responded nonchalantly.

  “Well, why don’t you go and get it treated?”

  “Because I ain’t got time. Dem doctors and nurses at dem muthafucking hospitals be having you sitting ’round that joint, waiting all day long like you ain’t got shit to do. So, I just said fuck it! But, I have been taking a few of dem antibiotics whenever I run across somebody with ’em.”

  “Well, are the antibiotics working?”

  “They might. They might not be. Who knows?” she continued as she began to scratch a couple of the open sores around her neck, which eventually started leaking pus.

  The shit scared the hell out of me and I was ready to go. So, I told her I’d see her some other time and drove the hell off before some of that shit she had coming out of her skin dropped into my car. And you know I couldn’t have that. As I drove off, I looked into my rearview mirror and watched her as she continued to stand there, with no regard for her health. She honestly had no remote interest to go and get herself treated for those abscesses because in other words, she wasn’t trying to miss out on the next big thing out on th
e streets. Poor thang! She was really far gone and too blind to even see it.

  Well, since I knew Teresa was hanging out in Huntersville at Walt’s house, I didn’t have to worry about her silly ass anymore. Too bad I wasn’t gonna be able to tell her goodbye. But hey, she was the one who left me in the house stranded. So, I couldn’t really feel bad. And now I could carry my ass back to her place and pack up my things. But while I was there, I would take the time out and leave her a letter where she could find it.

  It didn’t take me long at all to pack up the rest of my things and put everything in my car. And right when I was about to leave, I realized that I had forgotten to do something. So, when I returned into the house, I then realized that I had forgotten to write Teresa a goodbye letter.

  Now as I was about to sit down at the kitchen table and lay out a few words on this sheet paper I dug out of an old note pad, Teresa came walking through the front door, looking like she was spaced the fuck out.

  “Oh, so now you decide to come back home?”

  “Whatcha mean by that?” she asked me, as if she had the slightest clue of what I was talking about.

  “Come on now, Teresa. You been gon’ ever since yesterday afternoon. And before you left, you told me you were gonna come right back after you made a few moves and went to the damn grocery store. But instead of doing that, you left me in this motherfucker stranded, with nothing to eat and no fucking running water. So, you’re gonna stand here and ask me what the hell I mean?” I replied with a bitter expression.

  Teresa sat down to the table and said, “Girl, I forgot all about that,” she told me as her words slurred.

  “No shit!”

  “No, I’m serious,” she began to explain. “I got out there yesterday and tried to push them three dummies off of a couple of people, but wasn’t nobody trying to score from me. Everybody was running to them niggas with that new dope called Helter Skelter. So, I ended up holding on to them damn things and then I fucked around and had to throw ’em down on the ground when the narcs came rolling through there.”