Arm Candy

by T. C. Littles

  My whole life was becoming a nightmare that I couldn’t stir myself awake from. With every emotion in my heart and all the common sense in my mind, I knew things could never be the same between me and King. If I could rewind time back to only an hour ago, I would’ve stayed locked in my bedroom, sorting through all the baby items Samira purchased, and never guided my clique to his house in the first place. How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you think about all of this earlier? Hitting myself in the head, I couldn’t believe I played the game so stupidly.

  My girls were in the liquor store buying it out. According to them, we’d won the war, so it was time to celebrate our victory. I, however, wasn’t feeling on top of the world. Setting Samira and King’s home on fire didn’t move me paces ahead in the game. Matter of fact, it forced me ten paces back. I deeply regretted not following my first mind. It was my life we’d acted so recklessly on. And in my opinion, the move was ratchet even for us and completely amateur on my part alone. It screamed, “These are the consequences of having a baby by a bitter bitch.”

  The more turmoil I realized I’d caused for myself, the more I wanted in on the liquor my girls were getting. I wanted to get faded and buzzed so my mind wouldn’t explode from thought. My son was still in the hospital, I was even further from having a man than I was a few weeks ago, and my future included arson charges if anyone saw us bomb the house. Clearly, I wouldn’t get the family I’d been desperately fighting for.

  Twiddling my fingers, I looked down at the text message again, trying to think of the perfect way to respond. It needed to be something witty, something that made me seem more like the victim than the aggressor, and something that reminded him of our son. I’d always been able to woo him back to me, so there was a little hope in my heart that I’d be able to in this situation as well. Besides, King and I were ultimately tied to one another for life. No matter what, it was time for me to start playing the role of his baby momma and not just the random groupie I started off as.

  “Rayna Ray, pop the trunk real quick,” Cameron called out to me, snatching me out of my personal pity party. Waltzing out the store with a plastic bag in each hand, she’d been up to no good, you could tell. Her cousins were close behind with one bag in each hand, and Tiana brought up the rear with just a few packs of cigarillos. “If you thought your baby shower/welcome home party for K.J. was off the chain, just wait until tonight. We’re about to turn up until we pass out. Ol’ boy behind the counter let me use my food stamp card to load up on a bunch of bottles of good shit. I don’t know how the kids will eat this month, but Mommy will be drunk tonight.”

  “You’re a mess, girl,” I responded, popping the trunk as she requested. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh at Cameron. She always found a ghetto hookup wherever we went.

  “I don’t care how much gas I have to burn out to come back to this store when my food stamps load. I swear I’ll be back.” Tiana slid into the back seat, amped up. “Shit, I could even start selling liquor on the sly for a few extra dollars. I might’ve found a hustle coming to handle Rayna’s business,” she snickered.

  Tiana’s wisecrack put me straight back into the hot seat and right back into my thoughts. It was no secret she’d never been a fan of my relationship with King, especially after he sent me into labor early, but my business wasn’t hers to meddle in. It fa’sure wasn’t her place to make it a mockery in front of everyone. As a friend, I thought, she was supposed to have my back when it came to being a comforting shoulder to cry on and an open ear for my vent sessions, not the judge and manipulator she was being. The shade she was throwing was irking me.

  “What’s your problem? Why are you acting all salty toward us like we didn’t just ride out on a mission for you?” Tiana questioned, obviously picking up on my agitation with her.

  “I appreciate y’all riding for me no doubt. But what I don’t appreciate is how you keep throwing shade at me, trying to be funny and shit,” I clapped back.

  “Girl, what? Throw shade at you? Get the fuck out of here playing that victim role. I ain’t King, baby boo. I’ve done nothing but be a best friend to you.” Tiana sounded shocked and appalled by my statement. She’d gone straight into defensive mode.

  “Whatever, sure you have,” I grunted out of irritation from hearing her say King’s name again. “If that’s what you call putting me on blast in front of ya dude and possibly ruining my chances with my baby daddy, then fuck yeah, you’ve been one helluva pal.” I was clearly being sarcastic.

  “Naw, as a matter of fact, my definition of a friend would be a person who keeps me from losing my baby, stays up all night listening to me cry about a no-good nigga, and doesn’t smack the shit out of me when I say dumb stuff,” she growled at me. “I swear, Rayna, I’d put my hands on you worse than his wife did if I didn’t love you. Did you forget who peeled you off the ground when King left you there slit open?” Turning from me, she leaned up into Cameron’s ear. “It’s gonna be a scrap session going down in your back seat if you don’t hurry up and get us back to the PJ’s.”

  Tiana kept putting me out there. I was embarrassed but more so caught up in my emotions. As wrong as I felt she was, I also felt where she was coming from. It was true she’d been there for me plenty of days and nights when King was home with Samira, in addition to getting me to the hospital twice because of him. Still, the way she was cutting into me and had strong-armed me earlier was straight out of pocket. If I didn’t break the bullshit now, it would never be broken.

  Everyone including Tiana was waiting on my reaction, so I gave them one. “You don’t have to drive no faster, Cam. Just pull over and let me out. I need some space from this so-called best friend of mine,” I sarcastically spat. “Plus, I’m a big girl who can handle my bullshit including finding my own way home.”

  “All right, y’all, that’s enough. Tiana, quit picking on Rayna and, Rayna, I’m not pulling over to let you out. I don’t know what lovers’ spat y’all back there having but quit acting like my bratty-ass kids,” Cameron chastised us.

  “Whatever, Cam! You don’t have to play the peacemaker right now. If she wants to get out, let her.” Tiana was insistent on having the last word.

  While Cameron was busy running her mouth, I was busy watching our surroundings. We’d just approached a red light. The car hadn’t even completely stopped yet. I took that as my sign from God to make the next move. Talk is cheap, but actions are priceless. Opening the car door, I hopped out before Cameron could pull off.

  “Are you serious right now, Rayna? Get ya ass back in this car right now. Whatever beef y’all got can get handled back around our way,” Cameron begged. The light had changed, and she was now holding traffic up. Other drivers were blowing horns and beginning to yell obscenities out their windows.

  “Fuck her if she wanna make a scene, Cameron. Pull off. If she wanna act like she knows how to wear big-girl panties all of a sudden, let her,” Tiana spat. “She’s only starving for some attention since King won’t give her ass any.”

  “Yeah, cuz, ya girl is tripping. Either you can pull off on her or I’ma get out and walk the other way. You already know I’ve got warrants behind my name. Sitting in the middle of the street waiting on two bickering bitches will not be the highlight of my day or the reason I get harassed by the cops,” one of her cousins chimed in.

  Cameron looked at me apologetically then gave me one more chance. “I know you’re caught up in your feelings, Ray, but if you don’t suck that shit up and get in the car this very instant, you will get left. Not only do I have to look out for myself, but I’ve gotta look out for my family, too.”

  “Yup, that’s right, Rayna. The sun don’t rise on your round ass.” Tiana threw her two cents in again.

  “Fuck you, Tiana.” I flipped her the middle finger, then turned my attention to the one person who was trying to remain neutral. “You’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do, Cam. Just like I do. I’ll catch up with y’all back in the PJ’s.” I waved them away.

>   “Damn, Rayna Ray, maybe you should be taken off the list of chicks I’d ride or die for. Tiana is right. You’re acting ungrateful as hell,” Cameron spat, then pulled off.

  The brake lights on Cameron’s car never popped on, which meant she didn’t have any intention of reversing or coming back for me. I wasn’t salty since I told her to go, but I knew she was no longer neutral between Tiana and me. Now that I was out here absolutely solo dolo, I realized just how alone I was. In just forty-eight hours, I’d lost my man, even though he wasn’t mine to claim exclusively, my best friend, even though she was a flip-flopper, and my clique. All I saw was myself going out the world half-ass backward.

  I spun in circles a few times, trying to figure out my next move. I wasn’t sure about the bus routes on this side of town and didn’t have enough money for a taxi. My dumb ass should’ve waited until I got back to the PJ’s so I would’ve at least had my car. There was a supermarket a few blocks down. I headed toward it with hopes there’d be jitneys parked out front waiting on shoppers with groceries and no cars. I had enough to pay them for a ride to the hospital.

  None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t left him in the first place. I was his mother, and he deserved to have me right by his side. It was a battle keeping my emotions bottled in.

  “Where ya need to go?” the driver asked as I slid into his passenger seat.

  “Hutzel Hospital, please.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Samira

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whined, hitting myself upside the head, then burying my face in my palms. “How could you have been so stupid?”

  I didn’t care that I was drawing attention to myself. There would be more of a scene anyway whenever King arrived since he knew about me sleeping with Johnie. I’d gone from having control with him begging for my forgiveness to him probably hating my guts more than ever. I didn’t know how things were going to play out between us now that his ego was bruised.

  Although I had a reason to react irrationally, that was the lowest blow I could’ve ever served him. What I thought was a good idea at the time was nothing but an explosion waiting to blow up in my face. Just like the one I’d experienced with my house.

  “Quit staring at me and mind ya damn business.” I rolled my neck at a few of the neighbors looking back and forth between my ruined house and me having a meltdown on the curb.

  They walked off with their noses in the air, but I didn’t give a fuck. Hell, part of me wanted to get up swinging on them. At least that would’ve helped release some of this pent-up stress and aggression that was bubbling within me.

  I knew my house burning down right in between their homes instantly brought their property values down, but right about now, their worries were the least of mine. My whole life was nothing but a mess. If anyone should’ve had an attitude, it should’ve been me. I was sure anything in their middle-class lives wasn’t as dramatic or tumultuous as mine.

  “Ma’am, our crew of firefighters was finally able to put the fire out. However, I’m certain the house is unlivable. Someone can escort you in to see what valuables or memorabilia you can recover. Do you have renter’s or home-owner’s insurance? If so, you might need to call an agent for a claim.”

  “Damn, I can’t believe this is happening to me,” I cried out. “Everything I owned was in that house. Now I don’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.”

  I’d been hysterically breaking down off and on each time I took a breath of smoky air, looked at my totaled car, or faced the harsh reality that I was now homeless. I couldn’t believe I was going through all this behind the hands of King’s trash-ass baby momma. Not even the president himself could’ve told me she wasn’t behind this madness.

  “Come on, ma’am, it’s okay. I know this is a rough experience, but you’ll get through this,” the firefighter said, trying to be compassionate.

  If only he knew this house and my car were only added stressors to my already-long list of bullshit to deal with. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be laying my burdens on you anyhow. Your job isn’t to be a social worker.”

  “It’s okay, ma’am. I’m used to dealing with situations like this. As horrible as everything may seem, I’m sure you’ll bounce back on your feet in no time. When you’re ready, we’ll take that walk inside.” He gave me a friendly motivational pat on the back.

  “There’s no sense in prolonging the inevitable. I might as well walk that green mile now,” I groaned. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried gaining my composure to see exactly how much damage was done.

  The house my parents handed down to me, but still kept their name on, was completely ruined. The living room I’d decorated like something from out of a ritzy magazine was burned to a crisp. That was expected since the cocktail came through the front window. All the pictures of me and King, all the memories we shared on holidays and late nights, and all the hands-on recollections of my childhood were nothing more than ash and rubble.

  “There’s more to salvage upstairs, but keep in mind the fire spread pretty quickly. I am very sorry for the personal items you have lost, but at least you made it out safely. You can always rebuild your life,” the firefighter reminded me.

  “You’re absolutely right, and I appreciate you trying to shed some light on this dark situation. You just don’t know how great that advice sounds.” I honestly thanked him. My whole life had crumbled down, not just this house. I didn’t know how it was about to be done, but I had no other choice but to start over.

  The downstairs level was burned the worst. All the furniture, decorations, and personal items were all crispy items that couldn’t be salvaged. The upstairs revealed more smoke damage than anything to our valuables, but the flames that managed to spread damaged the actual housing structure beyond repair.

  Seeing everything my parents slaved for and handed down to me brought tears to my eyes and had vomit swirling around in my stomach. They’d never forgive me, and I couldn’t blame them. Of all the disappointments I’d presented them with, burning down the home they bought as newlyweds would be gut-wrenching. Digesting my misfortune was all too much.

  The firefighter stayed ten feet back while I went through my emotional downpour and collected what I could salvage. There wasn’t much. I was mostly upset about my clothes being ruined. Although they hadn’t caught fire, they reeked of heavy smoke. I was walking up out of here with just the clothes on my back.

  Falling down to my knees, I picked up one of the charred frames that held a picture of me and King, and I cried. Everything that I loved was seared. I might’ve not wanted King, but I feared starting over alone. What I really wanted to do was drop everything and go back into hiding within a hotel room.

  King

  “What up, nigga? Holla at me ’cause it’s a few words I need to spit at you. Don’t delay.” I got grim then hung up.

  Tossing my phone into the passenger seat, I was disappointed that I only got Johnie’s voicemail. I was amped to get at him man-to-man about his sexual relations with my wife plus end our musical ties. That motherfucka was sneakily coming up in the game behind my back, and it was time to put an end to his ass all around. My main goal was to get him blackballed.

  Traffic was thick on Livernois Avenue because of construction, but I maneuvered the best I could until arriving on my block. None of this shit was believable. The more smoke I smelled, the more I realized I really wasn’t getting punked.

  “Yeah, that bitter bitch has gone too far.” I slammed my fist on the steering wheel, pissed all the way off.

  There was nothing Rayna could tell me to make me believe she didn’t have a hand in this. Of all the groupies I’d screwed, nothing like this had ever occurred. So there’s no coincidence with the timing concerning this event. Rayna was bitter, angry, and looking for a way to get revenge on Samira, and hell, vengeance on me too. Truth be told, she was doing one helluva job.

  Instead of me calling or texting my baby momma to serve her up wi
th more promises and threats, I took in the depressing scene around me. The Detroit Fire Department was working hard, making sure the perimeter was blocked off and there weren’t any injuries. I was looking hard but didn’t see my messy wife anywhere.

  Sitting across the street from the home I once shared with Samira, I was in total disbelief at the damage that was done besides Samira’s car being totally wrecked. The windows had burst out, exposing the charcoal-colored living room, plus the gutters, siding, and even the roof were damaged. Damn, I hope Samira made the insurance policy payment ’cause I’m sure I’m fucked out of all my music equipment. Climbing out of the car, I coughed on the thick smoke that was heavily lingering in the vicinity.

  “Sir, you can’t come near here. Please step back,” a firefighter quickly addressed me while trying to block my path.

  “Back up, boss. This is my house,” I responded with agitation. Quickly taking him in, I tightened up my stance, prepared to run him over if need be. “I’m looking for my wife. I just talked to her. She was here when the house caught on fire.”

  I’d been drinking like a drunk at the hotel with Jamila and even in my truck on my way over. I knew he could smell each word I spat.

  “Oh, that’s my bad. I’m just doing my job, sir,” he apologized then moved to the side. “Your wife is in the house assessing the damage with a partner of mine. I’m sorry about what you two have lost.” He pulled back the yellow caution tape and let me through.

  Almost tripping down the basement stairs, I couldn’t wait a moment longer to assess the damage in my man cave and studio. I knew everything was probably ruined by the smoke and fire, but if by luck there was a chance for me to salvage something, I wanted to. Building everything over from scratch wouldn’t be a cakewalk. My eyes fell at what I saw.