“Mom, what’s done is done. I know my baby was born addicted to drugs and could possibly be dead by now, but I pray he lives, because he might be the only one who can save my life.”
I began to choke up while I held the phone.
“Well, where is the baby now?”
“Toledo Hospital.”
“Jesus, Roxanne!”
“They’re gonna take him away from me unless I have someone who will take him.”
At first, I was expecting my mom to hang up in my face, so the fact that she was still on the line was a good sign.
“What’s his name?”
“Nike,” I informed.
“Excuse me?”
“Nike,” I repeated.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
“I never thought of a name until he was born and I had to give him a name, sooooo…”
“Unbelievable. Roxanne, I pray your baby pulls through, but do you really think I want the responsibility of a newborn baby right now?”
“I know you don’t, Mom, but who else is gonna do it if you don’t?”
“I don’t know, but—”
“This is your grandson,” I pleaded, with tears filling my eyes once again. I was slowly realizing how much I wanted this baby to live and how much I wanted to be a part of his life. Maybe because I knew my life was so empty and pointless, my son could’ve added meaning to it. Whatever it was, something forced me to beg my mom to contact the social worker and then go check on my son, since I wouldn’t be allowed to. I still had over a week of jail time to finish and I knew even after I was released, I wouldn’t be allowed to have custody. I wouldn’t ever be allowed to have custody unless I got clean.
“Roxanne, if this baby survives and I take this grandbaby of mine in my home that means we’re even. That means I don’t ever wanna hear about how fucked up your childhood was, and how bad of a mother I turned out to be.”
I knew this could be the first step in the rehabilitation of our relationship.
“Never again,” I agreed.
“Hold on, let me grab a pen and get the number for this social worker.”
When my mom set the phone down, I yelled out Meth’s name, knowing she was far away somewhere. I wanted to tell her the good news. Meth came flying from the back of the day room as soon as she heard her name called. I tried speed talking so I could get it all out before my mom came back to the phone, but before I could finish I heard her voice.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
I held up one finger to Meth, while I called off the name and number on the card in my hand. I told my mom I would call one last time to find out about Nike. It felt so weird to be actually in the process of patching things up with my mother. Honestly, it seemed too good to be true. All my life, I could never get through to that woman, but I convinced myself this time would be different. It all seemed to depend on Nike’s survival, that’s how I knew he just had to make it.
“So Roxanne… I have a question to ask,” my mom said.
“I’m listening.”
“What do you plan to do about your drug problem?”
“I don’t need that stuff, Mom. I can quit if I really want to. I think I’m what they call a binge addict. You know, when a person can go for weeks and months without drugs and then something triggers them to start back getting high? During my labor was the first time in a while that I even had the urge.”
“Well, it still sounds like you need treatment. You know, I completed AA just a few months ago.”
“Good for you, Mom,” I said, with an honest smile smeared across my face.
I was proud of her and that was a feeling I didn’t recall much of in the past. As I ended the conversation, I wanted to tell my mother that I loved her, but I just couldn’t formulate the words. It just didn’t feel right or maybe it was just too soon. I thought she might have the courage to say it first, but I was wrong and we ended the conversation with a simple goodbye.
As I sat in my cell that night, I thought deeply about what I wanted for me and Nike if given the chance. I thought about going back to school and getting my GED. I thought about finding a job in Toledo and just living a regular life, raising my son, if I was able to keep him out of the system. I even thought about the chances of me finding a good man to share my life with. It all sounded far-fetched, but it had to be worth a try.
Chapter 11
The day I was released from county, Kiesha was there to pick me up in her Escalade. I hadn’t talked to Kiesha but once since I’d been in jail, and I don’t even remember telling her when I was being released. As we rode to her house, I gazed silently at her, wondering why in the hell Kiesha still dealt with me.
“Why the fuck is you staring at me?” Kiesha complained.
“I’m just thinking… like seriously, why do you still fuck with me? Anyone else would’ve been washed their hands.”
“I still fuck with you because that’s what friends do, Roxanne. They take the good and bad.”
I inhaled deeply and quietly, believing I didn’t possess the same loyalty Kiesha had.
“Well, I just wanna thank you for being there through everything.”
“You’re welcome, but you can thank me by getting your shit together and never fucking with drugs again.”
“Well… I’m still gon’ smoke weed,” I said truthfully.
“Shit, I smoke weed, that’s not a real drug. I’m talking about the crack. You know what I’m talking about.”
We made a stop to get me some Newport’s and I asked Kiesha if I could smoke in her truck. It was fifteen minutes later when she brought up the drugs again. “Do you think you can really quit, Roxanne?”
I lit a much-needed cigarette and exhaled, staring out the window.
“All I can do is try,” I said.
****
I was still impressed with Kiesha’s home. She had really grown into a woman and responsible adult, while I still felt like I had the mind of fifteen-year-old sometimes. First thing I did when we got back was call my mom. She told me that Nike’s breathing condition was improving, but he would still remain in the hospital for a while. I wasn’t allowed to have contact with him, which hurt me more than I thought it would. It put a damper on my day every time I thought about it, so I tried to take my mind off out it.
“Kiesha, you got some weed?” I asked.
“Yeah, I got some. I usually smoke before I go to work. If I didn’t, I think I might snap on some of them muthafuckas at my job.”
“Well, roll that shit up,” I said.
Kiesha shot me a dirty look.
“There you go,” she said, with insinuations all in her delivery.
“What?” I replied.
“Roxanne, don’t start that bullshit.”
“Whaaaat? Weed, Kiesha? I’m not thinking about smoking no crack.”
“You might need to just chill.”
“Come on, Kiesha, damn… don’t be a mama right now, I just need you to be my best friend, okay? This shit with Nike is starting to really fuck with me.”
“Okay, whatever. I’ll let you have some weed, but if it leads something else, we gonna have a big problem,” she said with a disapproving tone.
Kiesha went into her bedroom and came back with enough weed for at least four blunts.
“Now look, this is my stash I don’t share with nobody, but I’ma share with you because your ass is fresh out of jail and it’s a special occasion. But don’t think you gonna be up in here just chillin’ and smoking up my weed.”
“Okaaaay, Kiesha damn,” I said, frustrated and fiending for some sort of get high.
She pulled out enough weed for a blunt and sat it on the coffee table. I could tell it was some sort of exotic weed with no seeds or sticks. The smell consumed the room. All I could think about was sky hopping on cloud nine for a few hours and then I’d face reality. Kiesha worked afternoons, so we still had plenty of time to chill. She rolled up the blunt while I flipped through the channels on her big
flat screen TV.
I could tell Kiesha had a job that paid pretty good, but I hadn’t asked a lot about it, because I didn’t want to mention work and have to start talking about job searching and shit. Kiesha had put her old furniture in the basement and got new furniture in her living room. I loved how she had gotten her shit together at such a young age and I kind of envied her. I lit up the weed and we landed on The Maury Show.
“You remember this is what we were watching the first time we got high?” Kiesha said.
“Hell yeah, and your ass had the giggles twenty minutes later, you couldn’t stop fucking laughing.”
“No, but that show was funny as hell. They had the little ugly twelve-year-old white girl talking about she was in a gang.”
“And you gonna say, ‘that’s you, Roxanne, look that’s you’! ”
We both burst into laughter, thinking back to our high school years when we were the shit and life was all fun and games. Seems like only one of us got stuck on that stage. I hit the weed hard and held it in as long as I could, until a major cough exploded from my lungs. That cough is what I was looking for, because it’s the only thing that gave me the head rush I was looking for when I smoked weed. I went to pass Kiesha the blunt but she had lit her own, and I realized she probably didn’t want to smoke after me now, with all my bad habits. Somebody began banging on the door as if they had a search warrant. The noise startled Kiesha and made her drop the blunt from her hand onto her beautiful carpet, without an attempt to pick it up. I went to grab the blunt before if started a fire, while Kiesha charged at her front door pissed off, as the violator pounded on the front door for the second time.
“Who the fuck is banging on my door like you crazy?” she shouted, before she made it to the door.
“Is Roxanne here?” a familiar voice said, as she peeked through the peephole. She turned to me and gave me a look that made me think that either she’d just ate a raw onion, or she despised the person at the front door.
“How the fuck does he know you are here?”
“Who?” I asked, still confused.
“Terry!” she shouted, with rage in her voice.
Kiesha knew this was the man directly responsible for my drug habit, or at least, that’s how she saw it. It took a few seconds to register that she was telling me Terry was standing outside her door. This was the same guy that left me in Detroit for dead.
“Oh hell no,” I said, charging the front door to let Kiesha know I had this situation under control. I twisted the lock and snatched the door open. It was a shock to my eyes to see a man so filthy, skinny, and beaten by life as Terry was.
“What the fuck is you doing here?”
He smiled a dingy tooth smile as if he didn’t even see the look of discontent on my face.
“Damn baby, you still beautiful as ever,” Terry said.
It only fueled my anger that he actually thought he could sweet talk me after leaving me for dead.
“Bitch, get off my friend’s porch before she call the police on your crackhead ass.”
His eyes widened when I called him a crackhead.
“Oh, you done did a few days in the county and you all high and mighty, huh?”
“Yeah, and you look like you could use a few months in the fucking county, now get the fuck off this porch. I’m not playing with you,” I warned.
“Come on out here and talk to me for a minute, Roxanne.”
“If I come out on this porch, I’m coming out swinging, mutherfucker. You tried to sell me for drugs like a fucking TV!”
I had the door cracked and I saw Terry reaching for it, so I quickly slammed it shut and began to let my eyes roam the room behind me in search for a weapon. The closest thing I saw was a long candlestick holder. As I went to reach for it, I saw Kiesha zoom by me gripping a nine-millimeter handgun. I grabbed the candlestick holder anyway and followed Kiesha back to the door, as Terry once again knocked hard as if he didn’t even see Kiesha standing there. She shoved the storm door open so hard, she hit him in the face with it. She stepped outside with pistol in hand, prepared to use it if necessary.
“Get the fuck off my porch and I’m not gonna say it twice.”
Terry was holding his nose to see if he was bleeding. I cocked back the candleholder with all my might and knocked him upside the head with it.
“Get the fuck on and don’t come back,” I yelled.
Terry took off running like he was being chased by a pack of pit bulls. We couldn’t help but laugh, as he continued to run like hell after he was clearly out of harm’s way. As we went back into the house, I flopped down on the sofa still in disbelief, while Kiesha went to put her gun up. She came back in the living room, shaking her head.
“That’s that crackhead shit right there.”
“You right,” I agreed.
“I’m just glad you ready to leave all that shit behind you, Roxanne.”
I didn’t comment as she extended her arms for an unexpected hug. I wished I had the confidence in myself that she did. We embraced in a long, drawn-out hug; that had never happened before in all the years of our friendship.
“It feels so good to have my best friend back,” Kiesha said.
“Indeed.”
Chapter 12
Since Kiesha was just getting out of a bad relationship and I was just getting out of county, it seemed only right that Saturday, we would go out for a night on the town. It felt good to know Kiesha was not ashamed to be seen with me, as much as I had shamed everyone around me. We hadn’t hung out together since before we were old enough to drink so that night was special in a lot of ways. We hit Berk’s because it was laid back and I knew Kiesha would be comfortable there. I was comfortable anywhere, even if I was the only white girl in the entire building.
Tonight was about us celebrating starting over, starting new chapters in our lives, and doing it together as friends. Early that day, I got the news that Nike would be coming home in a couple of weeks, so I was extra excited and just feeling like this could be the turning point in my life. I stepped to the bar and ordered a Grey Goose for me and an apple martini for Kiesha. I quickly flashed my real ID at the bartender, feeling proud to be twenty-one. My Grey Goose was straight, no ice, no chaser and it burned the fuck out of my throat going down, but I was used to it. After that first sip, it all went down smooth as water. I’d gotten used to drinking straight liquor while hanging in the trenches, trying to keep my nerves up and stay ready for whatever.
“It’s some nice-looking guys in here tonight,” Kiesha acknowledged, as we sipped our drinks and found a table near the dance floor. I could tell Kiesha was on a man hunt tonight. I could see it all in her eyes as she scanned the room. She had on her red “come fuck me” dress with matching stilettos. She wore her hair in a short brown bob, with blonde streaks. Kiehsa had given me some of my money to buy some clothes and I thought I was sexy in my leopard print skirt and see-through top. I definitely didn’t look like what I’d been through. I knew it was just a matter of time before we would be on the dance floor fooling. Kiesha could dance like nobody I’d ever seen and she had taught me enough moves to keep from getting laughed at. Before we could even finish our drinks, we were invited to the dance floor by a couple of hotties.
“Come on, girl. Drink that shit, let’s go,” I said, getting hyped as I finished my drink.
I took the dark-skinned rough neck and Kiesha took the light-skinned pretty boy. I saw Kiesha staring in his eyes as she moved closer to him on the floor. The pretty boy just smiled and tried his best to keep up with her. Meanwhile, I was backing my little ass up, trying my best to get a rise out of my dance partner. I had put on a little weight since having Nike and I just knew I had a nice ass now. My little booty still couldn’t fuck with Kiesha’s, but I was proud of my little jiggle. I dropped to the floor and tried to make it clap, but was unsuccessful.
I glanced over at Kiesha, who seemed to be enjoying her company. She was going nuts on the dance floor, really getting loose. I was
always amazed at how she could be the most laidback person in the room, until she hit a dance floor. On the dance floor, she seemed to just come alive. I saw her partner’s hand move down on her ass as she began to grind on him, but she quickly removed it. The DJ kept interrupting one song with another one and before I knew, it we had danced five songs away. I was tired as hell, so I grabbed Kiesha’s hand and told light skin he should buy our next round of drinks.
“I’m good, you know I don’t drink like that,” Kiesha declined.
“Well, get it anyway and I’ll drink it, shit,” I whispered.
“Okay whatever, but you’re done after that.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Kiesha ran her game and before I knew it, we were back at the table and the fellas were bringing us drinks. The two gentlemen joined us for a while, trying to see if there was a booty call in the making. I was all for it. I hadn’t had any dick in months, but I knew Kiesha wouldn’t play her cards like that. We had some laughs as I continued to get buzzed and horny. I knew my potential dick for the night was a gangsta by the way he talked. I’d been around so many, I could spot ‘em with one eye closed and squinting with the other. He had tattoos everywhere, including a tear drop under his right eye. He had to be in his mid-twenties and he wore a low-cut Caesar, with a well-trimmed goatee. His name was Bam Bam and as he whispered in my ear, saying all the right things, I couldn’t wait to leave the club and head to the nearest hotel. I finished Kiesha’s drink after mines had been long gone, without the boys ever even noticing.
“Let me holler at my girl in private,” I said, as we excused ourselves. I ushered Kiesha away from light skin in the middle of their conversation, and she wasn’t happy about it. As soon as we got in the restroom, she cut me off as I tried to explain.
“Bitch, I already know what you about to say. I don’t care, as long as you don’t think you bringing his ass back to my house.”
“Hell no. His ass gonna pay for a hotel if he wanna fuck.”
“Your horny ass ain’t gon’ never change.”
“I haven’t had dick in months, you know I can’t function like this.”
Roxanne: From Addict to Hustler Page 10
