Family Over Everything (9 page)

“Twins? Corrine?” she yelled, but no one answered.

As she walked toward the light switch to turn on the light, a pair of large, beastly hands wrapped around her slim neck.

“Where's the rest of them at?” Jewels asked, staring into Melissa's eyes.

Fear gripped her as she gasped for air. When he let go of her neck and tossed her onto the sofa, she coughed uncontrollably and tears streamed from her eyes. She sat on the couch, trying to catch her breath and grasp the whole situation.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“Your boy got himself into some trouble, and now he has to pay the price. Where the fuck is he at?” Jewels asked impatiently.

“I don't know! I just got here! Please don't hurt my babies!” Melissa cried.

“I'm sorry, Melissa, but he's played a dangerous game and he has to pay the price.”

“What do you—”

Before Melissa had a chance to utter another word, Jewels lifted his .45 caliber, aimed it at her chest and pulled the trigger.

The bullet ripped right through her heart, instantly killing her.

Deion and Corrine sat in the front pew of the church in Brighton Heights, bawling their eyes out. It had been more than a week since the death of Melissa, and she was finally being laid to rest. Dressed in a long, black dress with red flowers that Melissa had bought her a long time ago and her hair flat-ironed, Corrine held Deion's hand, weeping and sniffling up the snot that was threatening to seep out of her nose. Deion, who was dressed in an all-black suit, shook his head in disbelief as he prayed to God to send the only mother he'd ever known back to him. The church was filled to capacity, the majority of different communities in the city coming together to pay their last respects to Melissa. She had undoubtedly made a special impact on everyone's lives that showed their faces in the church. Melissa, who was being laid to rest in her favorite lime-green cardigan sweater and ankle-length skirt, appeared peaceful in the silver-plated casket.

“Where's Day'onne?” Melissa's neighbor whispered into Deion's ear.

Deion shrugged, instantly angered by the mention of Day'onne's name.

Something in the pit of his soul told him that Day'onne was the reason his mother was no longer breathing. Anything from him having stacks of money in the duffle bags to him wreaking havoc on the entire Northview could've made someone yearn to take Melissa's life.

When the preacher finally delivered the eulogy and the crowd made its way to dinner, Deion grabbed Corrine by the hand and walked toward the casket. He mentally tried to prepare himself to get one last look at his hero, but when he looked at Melissa, seeing the serene look on her face, he wanted to break down and cry.

Corrine, who couldn't take it anymore, collapsed into his arms,
her body shaking before she released a loud, mournful cry. He tried his best to keep his composure, but he also collapsed onto the floor, wailing out tears of pure anguish. They felt as if without Melissa, they didn't have anybody but themselves.

“Come on, baby girl, we got to get it together,” Deion whispered into Corrine's ear as he wiped his tears away and stood up.

She nodded as he she stood as well. Walking toward the front entrance of the church, they noticed an older white woman with a policeman behind her.

“Hello, are you Corrine Johnson and Deion Jenkins?” she asked.

“Who wants to know?” Deion asked cautiously.

“I'm Diane Puchiarelli from Child Protective Services. Both of you need to come with me. Isn't there another one?”

The mention of CPS panicked Deion. Without hesitation, he grabbed Corrine by the arms and raced past Ms. Puchiarelli and the policeman. Both turned around and took off after them. Fleeing the church and hitting the corner, Deion and Corrine stopped and glanced around when several policemen surrounded them.

Turning around, Deion saw Ms. Puchiarelli behind him. “Run, Corrine!” he yelled, releasing her hand. But it was too late. Ms. Puchiarelli already had the little girl in her arms, ready to take her away.

“C
orrine, hurry up! You're going to get us caught,” sixteen-year-old Mercedes fussed.

She nervously glanced around the Giant Eagle grocery store, making sure no one was aware of their activities. Corrine ignored Mercedes as she continued to carelessly throw any type of food she laid her eyes on into the duffle bag draped around her waist. Mercedes' heart slammed into her chest when she saw an employee speaking into a walkie-talkie, alerting his boss that two teenagers were shoplifting.

“C'mon, Corrine, we got to get out of here!” she yelled, grabbing Corrine by the wrist.

Both teens ran through the aisles, trying to get out of the grocery store without being caught.

“Aye, stop right now!” one of the store managers yelled as he ran after them.

Corrine looked behind her and saw he was right on her heels.

“He's coming!” she yelled, clutching the duffle bag full of food even tighter.

They were almost out the door when she was tackled to the ground. She moaned in pain as the fat manager grabbed her by her arms, forcing her to her feet.

Mercedes, who was already out of the door, glanced behind her and realized Corrine wasn't there. When she ran back into the store, she saw the manager leading her into a back room.

“Hold up; it was me, too!” she yelled, getting the manager's attention. “I stole the food as well!”

Corrine flashed a smile at her best friend as the manager led them both into the back room. Taking the duffle bag out of Corrine's hand, the manager frowned as he dumped the food onto a nearby table. Corrine and Mercedes sat next to each other, holding their heads low as he called the police.

“What do you two have to say for yourselves?” he finally asked.

He looked at the two rough-looking teens, feeling both pity and animosity toward them at the same time. He would not tolerate theft on his watch. Corrine, who was dressed in a torn and dingy white T-shirt, skimpy blue jean shorts, and had on a pair of torn Reebok Classics, sat in the chair with her arms crossed under her breasts, staring up at the ceiling.

She inhaled air, puffing out her cheeks as she moved her eyes, glancing at one side of the room and then the other. Sighing, she began to tap her foot impatiently.

Mercedes, who was dressed in a pair of ripped-up jeans, a faded black shirt, and torn tennis shoes, sat in the seat, shaking her leg, glancing around the room, and running her fingers through her hair.

“We're sorry, sir. Please let us go. We promise we won't do it again!” she begged, a single tear trickling down her cheek.

“I'm sorry, young ladies, but if you do the crime, you must do the time.” He shrugged.

Twenty minutes later, when a policeman finally arrived, he placed both Corrine and Mercedes in handcuffs before stuffing them into the back of his car.

Feeling humiliated and gripped with embarrassment, tears continued to escape from Mercedes' eyes throughout the entire ride. When they pulled into the parking lot at the police station,
they stepped out of the car and entered into the building. Corrine shrugged as she took a seat and waited patiently for their next punishment.

“What are your names?” a policewoman, Officer Williams, asked, taking a seat in front of the two girls.

“Mer . . .mer . . .cedes,” she stammered.

Corrine, who had her arms folded under her breasts, rolled her eyes and glanced at Mercedes.

“Okay, Ms. Mercedes, and what is your name?” Officer Williams asked, looking at Corrine.

“Why the fuck you want to know?” Corrine asked.

Officer Williams, a beautiful black woman who wore her hair shortly cropped and had an aura as soft as an angel, stared at Corrine, shaking her head in pity. She already knew their names because they had been printed and run through the system. She was simply trying to make conversation and get them to open up.

Working in her profession for the past five years of her life, she had seen many at-risk teenagers that emulated the ones currently in front of her. Instead of going off and yelling in their faces like the other female officers would've, she remained calm.

She looked Corrine directly into her eyes. “Sweetie, all I want to know is your name. Why all the hostility? I'm here to help you get out of this little sticky situation you two got yourselves into. I can tell them to send you up to Shuman Detention Center for theft and you'd be fined for stealing over three hundred dollars' worth of food, but, instead, I'm going to be nice. So, if you want my help, all I ask for you is to be respectful and honest and I'll return the love.”

Corrine exhaled loudly, rolled her eyes, and started tapping her feet again.

“Okay, Ms. Thang, let's try this again. But this time, I want you
to cut the attitude and look me directly into my eyes and tell me your name,” Officer Williams said firmly.

Unfolding her arms from her chest and staring Officer Williams directly in her eyes, Corrine snottily said, “My name is Corrine. Are you fucking happy now?”

Shaking her head in disbelief, Officer Williams made a mental note to check her for her profanity later. Deciding to leave the situation alone for now, she flipped through Mercedes' and Corrine's records she'd retrieved moments ago. Taking heed of the petty theft charges from not only stealing groceries, but clothes as well, she silently set their folders down.

She scanned their worn-out clothing, knowing they had to be doing what they were doing to survive.

I know the feeling
, she thought, standing to her feet.

“Okay, we called your foster care mother, Rachael, and she'll be here to pick you two up any minute now.”

“You told Rachael on us?” Mercedes asked, shifting in her chair.

Noticing the fear in her eyes, Officer Williams sat back down and took her by the hand.

“Yes, we had to, sweetie. Why were y'all out there stealing food when she provides it at the foster home?”

Snatching her hand away from her, tears streamed down Mercedes' cheeks as fear gripped her.

“We don't have anything to eat up there! She treats us like shit! She's going to—”

“Would you shut the fuck up, Mercedes?” Corrine yelled, interrupting her. “You know you're not supposed to say shit to no one. It's not like this bitch cares, anyway. She's like the rest of them!”

Looking at Corrine through distressed eyes, Mercedes nodded in agreement, wiped her tears, and inhaled.

“Your mouth is filthy, Ms. Corrine. How do you know if I would care or not? You don't know me, like I don't know you. Baby girl, I'm only here to help,” she assured Corrine.

Before Corrine had a chance to reply, she locked eyes with her foster mother.

Rachael, a white woman dressed in a black blouse and a black knee-length skirt, flashed a fake smile as she walked up to Officer Williams, extending a pale hand.

“Hello, are you the guardian of these two girls?” Officer Williams asked, standing to her feet and shaking Rachael's hand.

“Yes, I am. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience these two have caused; they never seem to stay out of trouble,” Rachel said, trying her best to sound professional. “I try my best to raise and do the best I can for these girls, but it's practically useless.”

Corrine and Mercedes sucked their teeth as they watched the fake act Rachael performed.

“It's fine, but I'm wondering why they're out here stealing, anyway? They wouldn't be doing it if they didn't have a reason to,” Officer Williams said, raising her eyebrows in suspicion.

“There's no reason for them to be foolish.” She paused to see if the officer was buying it. “Now, I'd like to be on my way. C'mon, girls,” Rachael said in a dismissing tone.

Corrine and Mercedes watched as Rachael walked out of the police station and followed after her. Officer Williams, who felt as if there was more to the story, quickly took out her business card with her email and personal cell phone number and gently grabbed Mercedes by the wrist.

“Please, if you need any help, don't hesitate to call me,” she said, placing the card into her hand.

Mercedes nodded, placed the card into their duffle bag and walked out of the station.