A Street Girl Named Desire: A Novel (28 page)

“Desire,” the doctor said, “willpower alone is no match for drug addiction. That is why they say it is such a cunning, baffling and insidious disease. Try taking a box of Ex-Lax and see how much willpower you have not to go to the bathroom.”

“That's all about your body,” Desire told the therapist. “This is about my mind. I know I can stop using.”

The therapist had no choice but to accept and respect the patient's wishes. Help was always a choice.

At the end of her ten days on the unit, Desire had gained sixteen pounds and felt reasonably better. As promised, Carvelas was there to meet her. He took her to the apartment that he rented in a rehabbed tenement building on 116th Street in Harlem, near many of the mosques that he frequently attended. Over the years, Carvelas climbed the ladder and became a top-wage union employee. During Carvelas's travels, he began to explore different faiths and religions, one of which was Islam. After partaking in several services at local mosques, and studying the Quran, he'd gravitated toward Islam ever since. It was apparent that Carvelas eagerly anticipated Desire's arrival to the small, modest apartment. He had gone all out and stocked the refrigerator and cabinets with food. He'd also bought new CDs and DVDs, so Desire wouldn't get bored. He even went out and bought her a lot of female toiletries, some pajamas and ladies underwear.

Desire was secure and at ease for the first time in over a year as hope once again came into her life. She and Carvelas spent hours upon hours reminiscing about the good times, and crying over the bad. For the first time in a long time, Desire felt as if she would never be alone again.

The air was crisp and cool as Carvelas and Desire strolled happily hand in hand from the movie theater on 125th. Laughing, Carvelas suddenly felt Desire's hand grow tense. Lyfe walked in
their direction, with his dogs on a leash. Three of his boys were also with him. Desire put her head down. Carvelas's face turned stone cold instantly, as he saw Desire cower. It was as if their lives moving on was blocked by constant interruptions from the past.

“Yo, El, ain't that you girl… the singer?” Lyfe looked up and stared at Desire.

“Oh, shit, yeah, it is,” Lyfe walked closer and looked her up and down. “Damn, you almost don't look like a crackhead no more.”

Carvelas stepped in front of Desire.

“What you say, nigga?”

Lyfe's dogs began barking aggressively. Lyfe recognized Carvelas and chuckled. “Oh, shit, dis that nigga Carvelas. I use to whip his ass back in the day. What, cause you got some size, you got heart now, nigga?”

Carvelas was a little nervous, but he was more sad to be confronted with someone who had gone absolutely nowhere in life. Lyfe was up to the same old thing, only in a worse way. Carvelas was on a different level now. He was no longer afraid of a thug who had terrorized him for far too long. He felt as if Lyfe was a warring spirit who could not possibly win anymore.

“Lyfe, I would like it if you left me and my girl alone,” Carvelas began calmly. “However, if you don't, then you can get ready for the fight of your life.”

Lyfe seemed amused, but one of his boys reached for his pistol. They were all stunned when Carvelas did not move one inch. They had never had someone respond to the threat of a gun like this. Carvelas refused to budge as Lyfe's boy moved closer and closer, until the gun was pointed almost directly at Carvelas's
heart. Carvelas had no fear as he decided it was time for him to defend himself He was fast. The dude didn't even see it coming as Carvelas suddenly and swiftly struck him in the throat. While Lyfe stood scared of Carvelas's self-assured power, his boy gasped for breath. Carvelas pulled the pistol from the boy's hand and placed him in a headlock. Lyfe was motionless. Carvelas threw the boy to the ground and grabbed Lyfe so fast, Lyfe couldn't stop him. Desire had no idea what was going to happen next, but she stayed quiet and still as Carvelas put the gun in Lyfe's mouth.

Carvelas stared at Lyfe as he spoke: “I could kill you right now, if I really wanted to. A part of me tells me I should. But even though I can, I won't. Son, this is my word, if you ever talk sideways or even think about giving your drugs to my girl again, I'm taking your life!” Carvelas pushed the pistol deeper into Lyfe's mouth. Lyfe began to gag as Carvelas held him up and made him take nearly the entire barrel of the gun down his throat. Desire had no idea if Carvelas was going to kill the man who had terrorized them both. She didn't care. It was broad daylight, but Carvelas didn't have an ounce of worry as people from the neighborhood stood by and watched the drama unfold. Many of the mothers and older regulars on the block starting clapping.

“If I ever find out you so much as call out her name again, so much as point a finger at her, I pledge my soul on Allah that y'all niggas will die a million deaths. Now, if y'all niggas want rage, I'm gonna make the front page!”

They were in a standoff. Lyfe knew Carvelas was not going to shoot him—at least not today. But Carvelas had shown Lyfe that he should never even risk taking the chance again. Carvelas eased the pistol out of the Lyfe's mouth, staring at him all the while.
Lyfe only stared and mumbled, “Fuck you, nigga.” The young dude fixed his collar and asked Carvelas for his pistol back. Carvelas slapped him viciously across the face with the weapon.

“I'm taking this shit off the street, punk.”

He grabbed Desire's hand and they walked through the crowd, which was roaring with excitement that somebody,
anybody
, had finally put Lyfe in his place.

Over the next few weeks, Carvelas stayed by Desire's side as she planned all the goals that would help her get her life back together. Desire fell head over heels in love with him. To have a man who was willing to give up his life for her was a gift Desire could not comprehend, especially since she hadn't been there for him nearly as much as she could have been. His devotion was beyond her understanding. Although she was comforted by it, she still could not help feeling suspicious of it. Carvelas slept on the couch and gave Desire the bedroom. He wanted her to know that he didn't need to have sex with her, even after she had gotten healthier and looked almost like the girl he had met years ago in church. Desire actually wanted it that way, because she had not yet confessed to him that she was HIV positive. Carvelas made it clear anyway that it was more than sex that he was interested in.

“Desire, I wasn't about that then and I am not about that now. I've totally changed my life. I look at you and see somebody who used to love life and living. I know your past. I know what you been through. It's going to be hard for you to go back to that. I just want to try and help you do it.”

Desire had never heard a man speak like that. She was overwhelmed,
and could not believe that she had had to sink so low in life to truly listen to Carvelas. She thought about all the letters he had written her that had gone unanswered. She thought about how he had probably avoided her at the funeral of a woman he had loved because he couldn't stand to see what her granddaughter had become. Or maybe he couldn't stand to look at what could have been between them. Desire could not believe or understand how someone was still with her, despite everything.

“Baby…what's wrong?” Carvelas asked.

“I'm thinking about how wrong I did people. I know I did you wrong…”

“You don't have to worry about any of that. It's a past life. People make mistakes. I knew you would eventually come around.”

“But it wasn't just you. I've hurt so many people…and Tiah, I did her so wrong. She might be dead because of me, and I don't know what to do.”

“I know you're hurt, Desire, but all you can do is pray for her.”

“But I feel so guilty. I judged her and put her out the group for using drugs and then I became a fucking crackhead myself.”

“Don't think like that, Desire, you just got caught up. That's not who you are. You are a strong and beautiful black woman who made some mistakes. You don't have nothing to ever be ashamed of. I'm sure that God is looking over her right now, protecting her no matter what.”

Desire was calmed by his words and looked into his eyes with passion. They approached each other and kissed passionately. Desire lay back slowly as Carvelas caressed and stroked her body affectionately. Their breathing became heavier as she began to
unbuckle his pants. Carvelas worked his tongue down her neck and to her breast. Desire moaned loudly then stiffened.

“What's wrong?” Carvelas asked, still in a zone.

Desire shook her head. “No, I can't do this.”

“I'm sorry, Desire, I didn't mean to…This is not what I want to do either.”

“Carvelas, I got something bad to tell you.” She wasn't going to beat around the bush. “I caught the virus.”

Carvelas was silent as her words swirled in his head. Desire waited for him to say something—anything. All at once, Desire wished she had never told him, as she could not stand the thought of him leaving her again.

“Desire, I already know,” announced Carvelas. “I read the newspapers. I hear what's going on in the street. I wanted to reach out to you…but I didn't know where you were.”

“And you still want to be with me?”

Carvelas grabbed Desire's hand and kissed it gently.

“Desire, when a man really loves a woman, there is nothing in the world that he won't accept about her. And I've loved you too long to just stop now. I asked my pops a long time ago how can you tell if you really, really love a girl. He said, ‘There are two ways. One, when she takes you through all kinds of shit and you still want to be with her. Two, when you can only think of her two times a day—that's day and night.’ Desire, there wasn't a single day that went by that I didn't think about you…not one single day. I used to see you on television and wish I could kiss you through the screen, just so I could feel you.”

Desire was overwhelmed by his words. She wiped his tears
away and pulled him to her chest and caressed him in her arms as she rocked him like a baby. Carvelas fell asleep in her arms. Desire lie awake, smiling, too happy to risk dreaming.

Carvelas had been on leave from his job for over a month when he received a call from his union boss. There was a convention in Chicago and his boss asked if he was ready to come back from the extended leave he had been granted for personal reasons. Since Carvelas was now the top technician and the job paid maximum-scale rate, Carvelas would make upwards of three thousand dollars a day for the eight-day event.