Ghetto Girls

by Anthony Whyte

  “Damn Sophia should be here already. I need her now!” Eric said talking to the ceiling. “And Deedee’s damn drugged-out mother. I don’t even know where she is. Dammit! I swear on my brother’s grave, whoever did this fucking shit, I’ll personally take care of them. I want no help from those fucking police.” Eric was almost on the verge of tears as he collapsed in an easy chair.

  Later, as he sipped another brew, Eric heard the keys turning in the door and the sound of Sophia’s footsteps rapidly approaching. They embraced briefly.

  “I could hear her from outside. What’s wrong? Why is she crying so loud?” Sophia asked.

  “Listen, I really don’t know. She came in and went straight upstairs and locked her door. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.”

  “What? You haven’t even spoken to her? Well...”

  “Well, I didn’t know what to say to her.”

  “She may have wanted to say something to you. Anything…”

  “She had a chance when we were driving from the hospital and—”

  “Get me two glasses of cold water.”

  “For what? I don’t need to cool down.”

  “Who said anything about you? They’re for me and Deedee.”

  Sophia took the first glass and drank a mouthful. She set the glasses on a tray and took her black pumps off, then made her way up the short stairway to Deedee’s room.

  “Dee? May I come in?” She asked knocking gently.

  “Hold on. Just a second, Sophia,” Deedee said and opened the door. She was walking to the bed when Sophia came in.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Sophia said. She was trying to sound upbeat. Deedee mumbled but Sophia ignored the inaudible response.

  “I brought some water. Cold water, with a few ice cubes. I thought you could use a little. I know I could.”

  “Sophia, have—well no, but—” Deedee looked down on the beige carpeted floor, and then continued. “Have you ever been raped?”

  The blunt question caught Sophia off guard. Just for an instant, she wished she could say she had been raped, it was a common thing, but the experience never happened and Sophia could not fake it.

  “No,” she replied. “I have never been raped. I can imagine that it’s a most terrible thing.” A brief pause followed. “Do you want the water now?” Sophia asked as she sipped.

  “Thanks,” she said reaching for the glass. She sipped and spoke. “It’s bad. It’s really, really awful,” Deedee cried.

  Deedee gulped the rest of the water and felt it roll down her dry throat. A surprise burp caused her to look at Sophia, who had been standing in the middle of the room. They smiled. Deedee walked over and hugged Sophia.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m sleepy, but could you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

  The sun illuminated the room. Deedee walked over to the picture window and stood in the first light to enter. She touched her stomach and thought of her mother, wondered if she were dead or alive. Sophia silently watched Deedee. Suddenly it was clear: Deedee was no longer an innocent child; she was the victim of a heinous crime. Sophia walked over to the window and pulled the draperies closed.

  “Get some rest, Dee,” she said.

  “Yeah, but will you stay?”

  “Of course I will.” Sophia answered.

  Deedee moved over to the bed and turned toward Sophia.

  “I feel like I’ve got to take a long bath,” she said. “Thanks, Sophia.” She went into the bathroom and closed the door. Sophia sat on the bed. Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Deedee undressed and stepped into the shower. The spray sent a sudden chill through her body. She stood under the shower, allowing the water to soak in. It didn’t dampen her thought: If I hadn’t taken that car, none of this would’ve happened. She cried a little. Why such a heavy price?

  She thought of the last time she had seen her mother, Denise, who had gotten heavy into drugs after her father’s death. Perhaps she couldn’t handle his dying, or maybe it was the way he was killed. Whatever it was, Deedee remembered vividly that the last month or so before she was carried away, Denise was stealing to support her crack habit. She had lost a lot of weight and looked quite emaciated. Her clothing no longer fit. Deedee remembered feeling real hatred toward her mother.

  Uncle Eric had tried to explain, but Deedee couldn’t understand. She wouldn’t listen and changed her name on the school register by forging her mother’s signature. Denise had been part of Deedee’s name. She had been Denise D. Ascot, but changed it to Deedee. Because of her mother’s drug use Deedee despised her. During the period they lived together, Deedee often wished death on her mother.

  “Dear God, I pray that you take my mommy back or let her die.” Deedee prayed daily. One day, five years ago, the ambulance had carried her mother away on a stretcher. Denise had overdosed on crack-cocaine and heroin. Deedee felt some type of relief. She hoped her mother would never come back. After the overdose, Deedee never saw Denise again. She would miss her, but kept that a secret. Now she wanted her mother. Eric had assumed the role of her father, and now that he was contemplating marrying Sophia, well, maybe she would have a mother again.

  Deedee toweled herself and put on her robe. Sophia rose from the bed so that Deedee could lie down. Deedee brushed her damp hair and fell asleep.

  Sophia rejoined Eric downstairs. He had downed two more beers and was working fast on the third.

  “Hey, big guy, don’t drink yourself silly. Save me some.” Sophia said.

  “That silliness is not a bad idea. As for the beer, there’s plenty in the fridge.” Eric answered.

  “Thanks. Please don’t kill me with kindness,” Sophia said.

  “Listen, my niece was ...”

  “I know. Raped. It is a very, very bad thing. We’ve got to be supportive and try to get something positive...”

  “Something positive out of being raped?” Eric asked.

  “Out of this evil try to find the good. Maybe you can overwhelm her with good—and goods.”

  “Like?”

  “Like a shopping spree, getting clothes. Like sending her flowers. And more shopping. The idea here is to try to help her to forget. I have friends who will be able to provide counseling and other support services. In time this horrible experience may be put to the back of her mind.”

  “Is that possible?” Eric asked. His eyes widened with the knowledge Sophia had just imparted.

  “Yes. You won’t be able to take it all away. But, hey, it certainly won’t hurt to try,” said Sophia between sips of the newly opened brew.

  “Sophia, that shit really hurts me. I don’t know...”

  “Yeah, I understand. What did the police—?”

  “Later for them assholes. They have never helped me. Never!”

  Sophia saw anger in Eric. The furrow in his brow became pronounced as he stared at a picture of him and, Dennis, his older brother. She knew where it all stemmed from. Eric’s brother had been murdered not long before Sophia met Eric, so she was with him when he learned the truth about his brother’s death. Something in Eric changed after that, and Sophia knew not to press the issue with him.

  Men wearing hoods had tried to mug his older brother, he was told. Dennis fired at them with his .38 Smith and Wesson, but one attacker got behind him and shot him dead. Eric knew Dennis had gone to an address given to him by ‘Xtrigaphan,’ the hot rap group he wanted to sign. Dennis had taken $10,000 in cash with him to lure the group to sign. Eric knew his brother dabbled in cocaine, but also knew Dennis wasn’t dealing. He knew that the cash was a signing bonus. The police weren’t interested in Eric’s version of his brother’s murder. Since then, his hatred of the police bordered on obsession. Sophia decided to try another approach.

  “Well, have you spoken to Deedee, to find out what happened?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  “Not entirely, except that she was raped and the car was stolen.”

  “By whom? Where?”
Sophia queried.

  “Look, the cops told me what happened. They called me and told me they found her badly beaten. Told me that she had been sexually assaulted.”

  “So you haven’t spoken to Deedee about any of this?”

  “I told you. No,” said Eric. He was annoyed now.

  Sophia Lawrence, with her lawyer’s mind, suspended the questioning when she saw Eric’s resentment. She tilted the beer upwards, looking at his reflection through the beer bottle. His face appeared contorted, and he looked fat with anger.

  Eric Ascot turned his back. He was rehashing his brother’s death.

  “I didn’t want to include the cops,” he said, turning to face her. “Not after the way they treated my brother. They treated him like he was some unknown, drug dealing nigga. Now I’m gonna handle this shit the way it should be handled.”

  He turned away. Then he stopped. The pain showed on his face.

  “Soph, whatever it takes to make her better. Please don’t spare the cost. Get her the best. That’s my niece laid up there.” Sophia nodded.

  FOUR

  Nearly ten years ago Deedee entered Eric’s life. She was close to her sixth birthday. Her father, Dennis Ascot was the older brother of Eric. He was found mortally wounded, a bullet-hole to the back of his head. All the money and contracts were stolen from his attaché case. Sophia knew that the police treated the incident as a drug deal that went bad. The investigation went as far as tailing Eric around town and keeping steady watch on his apartment. Eric Ascot tried as best to clear his brother’s name but to no avail. Within six months, the investigation was officially closed despite Eric’s persistent protesting.

  After that Eric Ascot became Deedee’s guardian, and then achieved sole rights to guardianship when her mother became preoccupied with crack. When Sophia met them, Eric and his niece seemed happy with each other. It was, “My uncle this and my uncle that.” Eric enjoyed the adoration of his niece, and Deedee seemed determined at first to keep her uncle all to herself.

  She kept close tabs on Sophia, but Sophia’s plan was foolproof: Take Deedee shopping as often as possible. Keep her happy and win her over without trying to be her mother. She knew how much Eric cared for Deedee. Now she understood the pain that would haunt him since his niece had been assaulted. Sophia walked over and hugged Eric.

  “She’s sleeping. She’s tough. She’ll be alright.”

  “Yeah, I hope so, Sophia,” Eric said. He held her hand for a while then pulled her near. They kissed briefly and she watched as the pain eased away from his face, the scowl now replaced by the semblance of a smile. However, thoughts of his niece still wore heavily on his mind.

  Deedee was in bed, staring into a wall of nothingness. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming, but remembered the Mercedes sitting at the end of the driveway.

  Such a pretty car, she thinks. So black that it glows. The noise of the car alarm prompts her to get the keys and deactivate it. She gets in it. Maybe, I should move it closer. Or maybe I could take it around the block just one time. It won’t hurt. But she has to go downtown. Maybe check out some spots, meet up with some friends—Coco and her crew. They’ll love the ride. Everyone is happy; everything is fine. Her uncle won’t be back until the following day. He’ll never know. Pick up some cigarettes, and no drinking while driving. Her guide drank some, actually a lot. “Hey chill with the bottle, chill.” Coco and Da Crew perform. They’re fabulous, graceful, exciting. Drinking at the club stops make her sloppy. She’s trying to make it back to the car, with or without a guide. She is outside. It’s a jungle. There are wild animals chasing each other. She barely sees the Mercedes now. There’s something after her or the Mercedes. Deedee runs and screams. It’s to no avail. Her throat acts as a barrier to the sound. The man-beast catches up with her.

  “I want you and da fucking car,” roars the beast. It has a face she barely recognizes.

  “Back off, vultures!” yells the man-beast.

  Then the beast grabs her. She screams, but fright muffles the sound. The hand begins to maul her, she tries fighting back, but she is much too small, and her limbs won’t respond. She is trying to scream, but there’s no sound. The beast clutches her and pins her to the hood of the Mercedes. Then the thing growls and enters her. Deedee fights back with long vicious scratching, her nails strong as talons. The flesh of the beast begins to fall apart. She grows stronger, and the beast retreats. But out comes the man. It is Deja, from the club. She screams violently.

  “Get away! Stay away!” She yells. Her uncle and Sophia burst through the door. “Please don’t hurt me anymore,” she cries.

  “Deedee it’s me. I’m here baby. It will be alright, it’ll be alright,” Eric shouted as he hugged the girl. “You were having a bad dream.”

  “I’ll get her something to drink,” Sophia said. She ran downstairs, to the kitchen.

  “Uncle E., Uncle E.,” Deedee cried. “He was trying to rape me again.”

  “Who was gonna do that to you, baby?”

  “This thing was chasing me and Deja was gonna rape me again.”

  “Deja?” Her uncle asked with bewilderment. “Who’s Deja?”

  Sophia carefully handed Deedee a glass of milk. Deedee gulped twice, then excused herself and went into the bathroom. She felt the scrutiny as two pairs of concerned eyes followed her there. Once inside, she washed her face and checked her body. The bruises and marks were quite visible. Deedee looked at her face close-up, and noticed all the welts and gashes under her nose and above her eyes. Scabs were already forming over the smaller wounds. She decided not to look anymore—each time she did so, more bruises seemed to appear. But Deedee knew that these smaller bruises didn’t really matter. The biggest wound would not heal. It would last forever.

  “Hey what’s up?” Da Crew shouted when they met in the school hallway. They were happy to see each other. The weekend was finally over. All the girls had stayed with their families and spoken with each other on the phone. Danielle and Josephine used their parents’ phones. Coco called from the phone on the corner.

  “I’ve got a test, yo. Got to go. Catch up wit y’all later.”

  “Coco,” it was Mrs. Martinez.

  “Yes, Mrs. Martinez.”

  “Girls, I heard a report of a carjacking and rape. It happened to a student I know in this school.”

  The girls stared at each other, revealing no surprise, but a lot of interest.

  “It happened over the weekend,” Mrs. Martinez continued. Then the questions came. “Do you girls know anything about what happened?”

  “No-o-o,” the chorus followed as the three girls walked away.

  “Well the police think you do.” Mrs. Martinez had to shout to be heard.

  “We told them everything,” Coco shouted back.

  “We’ve got to get to class,” Danielle said. She was most famous for her variety of late excuses.

  “I’ll see y’all,” repeated Coco. Her oversize denim jacket and blue jeans sagged, and the black knapsack on her back moved with a slight bop as Coco made her way to the classroom.

  Damn, hope I can ace this test, she thought, taking her seat. She slipped off the knapsack and jacket with a single move. She was ready to begin the High School Regents Examination.

  Coco finished the test in three hours flat. She had always been a good student, always read and did her homework, and her grades reflected that hard work. Schoolwork afforded her the perfect escape from her volatile mother.

  “Good luck,” the examiner said with a smile. Coco handed her the pile of test papers. She retrieved her jacket and knapsack and nodded as she headed for the door. She made tracks down the hallway with that familiar bop.

  “Peace,” someone called after her.

  “Peace,” acknowledged Coco. She immediately reached for her cigarettes but put them away as she remembered the signs posted in the school’s hallways.

  NO SMOKING ALLOWED

  Coco spotted Josephine and Danielle and motioned for them to joi
n her.

  “Think they got the report, yo?” Coco already knew the answer.

  “Yep, most def,” Josephine replied.

  “How else would they know?” Danielle added.

  “You know what, yo?” Coco continued. “We should stay da fuck out of this. You feel me?”

  “You mean mind our biz, shut our mouths? Cool by me,” Josephine said with a wink.

  “Can’t even remember what girlfriend looked like,” Coco chuckled.

  “But weren’t you the one who was pledging to do something for da sisterhood?” Danielle asked.

  “Okay, alright. Y’all didn’t have to go there, but you did. Ahight, I can vaguely remember some of it. I was caught up in the situation. I got emotional, so I flipped. I’m allowed to flip and talk shit, right? Okay, then that’s it, yo. Listen, I’ve got these dope lyrics.”

  “Yeah right, let’s hear them, then.” Josephine and Danielle both responded with avid anticipation.

  “Ahight, let’s get busy,” Coco said. “But let’s get da fuck outta here.”

  The girls put their silver-rimmed dark shades on and made their way out of the school building as if paparazzi awaited them. Danielle waved and blew a kiss to someone. Coco put a cigarette to her lips and turned her back to the wind to light it. She took a drag and passed it to Danielle.

  “Hold this, yo.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out a carefully folded white sheet.

  “Here’s some of the dopest lyrics you’re gonna hear anywhere,” she announced.

  The girls paused to listen.

  “It’s called ‘You Played Yourself.’” Coco began to half-hum, half-sing a slow-tempo number.

  “Go ahead, go ahead girl,” Da Crew chanted. Coco continued more loudly now:One day, one day

  You’re gonna fade away

  And I won’t need you

  Anyway, cause you’d have

  been played like the sucker punk