Essence
When I went to retrieve my morning paper, I was greeted with another surprise. I picked it up thinking it was heavier than usual and opened it before taking it into the house. Hitting the ground was a dead rat the size of my hand, with blood covering its fur. I threw the paper on the ground and ran in the house screaming for Zacariah to wake up.
“Get up! Get up!” I shouted, shaking her as hard as I could. She was a deep sleeper, especially since she kept such late hours. For some reason, this morning, her mouth was swollen. Not worrying about her injuries, I shook her again until she woke up screaming, “What!”
“You got to get up. Somebody put a dead rat in my newspaper.”
“Stop playing.”
“I'm not playing, Zacariah. Get up now and come see this.”
“I don't want to see a dead rat.”
“Zacariah!” I screamed.
“All right. All right. Damn. You aren't going to let me sleep until I see what you're talking about,” she grudgingly said, moving slowly, sliding on her slippers and throwing on her fluffy robe.
I was waiting outside when she came out there. Wiping the sleep from her eyes and yawning, she looked down.
“What the hell?”
“See what I'm saying. Who is doing this to me? First, it was my car, and now, this.”
“Somebody doesn't like you.”
“Duh,” I said.
“Did this rat have a note?”
“I didn't think to check. Once I saw that rat fall out of the newspaper, I was no more good.”
Zacariah squatted, rummaging through the bloody newspaper. “I don't see anything.”
“Look,” I said, pointing at the rat. “It looks like something's sticking out of its mouth.”
“And I guess you want
me
to pull it out?”
“I can't do it. I can hardly look at it, let alone touch it.”
“What makes you think
I
want to dig in its mouth?”
“Come on, Zacariah. You're not squeamish like me.”
She sighed and with the tip of her fingernail, pulled out a rolled up piece of paper, opened it up, and read it to me.
“Since you like slumming, I thought I would bring something from home to you.”
“What does that mean?” Zacariah asked.
“I don't know.”
“You lived in the slums.”
“If you want to call the projects the slums, then I did.”
“Did you have rats?”
“What project didn't?”
“Then this is a piece of home,” she said unfazed.
“I don't understand why someone is doing this to me.”
“Somewhere down the line, Essence, you have pissed somebody off. Did you steal somebody's man? Wait a minute. You've done that a few times.”
“So have you. Why isn't somebody threatening you?”
“I don't know. Maybe this stems from something that happened a long time ago. Essence, I have no clue. Maybe you should call the cops.”
“Why? So they can do nothing?”
“It will at least be on record.”
“That's true.”
“And you did take pictures of your car before you got it repaired. Give them all that evidence too.”
Between the questions and the neighbors looking in dismay, trying to figure out why cops would be questioning me, it only made me feel worse about the situation. Many preferred to find you guilty of a crime than to find out what was going on. Pictures were taken of the rat, and then it was removed from my driveway. I sat on the steps of my entryway and watched.
“Do you know who could be doing this to you?” the officer asked.
“No,” I replied looking at him dumbfounded. “If I knew who it was, then I'd be telling you.”
“Anybody looking to get even?”
You had to be kidding me. Was he not standing here ten minutes ago when I explained I didn't know any of these things?
“What type of questions are these, Officer? You already received the answers,” Zacariah said perturbed at the tall muscular cop with black curly hair. He looked as though he had been on the force one day. You could clearly see he didn't know what the hell he was doing. I guess if this incident would have happened on the rich side of town, we might have received a seasoned cop who knew what he was doing.
“Ma'am, please don't get upset with me,” he said trying to sound important.
“Why would this situation not warrant her being upset, Officer Perez,” Zacariah said, looking at his badge. “Somebody sent my friend a dead rat and covered her car in grease. Would
you
be happy about that?” she asked.
“No, ma'am, butâ”
“But nothing. Are you done, because we got things to do?”
Officer Perez looked around at his partner who was waiting by his car. He closed his notepad and put it into his shirt pocket.
“Here's my card if you need to call. I hope this doesn't happen again, but in case it does, you'll have my number,” he said now looking at me in an unprofessional manner.
Was this man trying to get with me? Is that why he was asking all these stupid questions? I looked at his card, and then looked at him. He walked to his patrol car opening the passenger door. Before climbing in, he turned to look at me one last time, waved, got into the squad car, and pulled off.
“I know he was
not
trying to hit on you,” Zacariah said.
“You got that vibe too?”
“Yeah, you had his mind so scrambled, he couldn't do his damn job.”
“Well, hopefully, I won't have to call him.”
“I don't know, Essence. He might have been lacking in the job skills, but the man was fine. He looked Cuban, and boy, do I love my Cuban men.”
“What type of man do you
not
like?”
“Shut up, Essence. I'm tired of dealing with you and your problems this morning. I'm going to fix me something to eat and get back in bed.”
“Speaking of problems, by the look of your lip, you had some problems yourself. Who tried to shut your mouth?”
Zacariah
Breakfast took no time to throw together. Essence and I were sitting at the dinette table when I decided to explain what happened to me last night. She sat there looking at me with her hand over her mouth, no longer even eating her food.
She then said, “Kea and Derrick?”
“Yes,” I said biting into a piece of bacon.
“They were having sex?”
“Yes.”
“You mean buck-naked sex with penetration and everything?”
“Yes, Essence,” I said almost losing my appetite.
“Yet
you
were the one who caught the beat down and not Kea,” she said giggling.
“It isn't funny, Essence.”
“Yes, it is. I can't believe you let that girl punch you in your face like that. Have you seen your face this morning?”
“It ain't nothing a little foundation and lipstick won't cover up.”
“I guess you found somebody bigger and badder than you.”
“Don't worry. Kea is gonna get what's coming to her if it's the last thing I do.”
“I hope you aren't going to slash her tires or put sugar in her tank,” she said, stuffing some eggs into her mouth.
“That's too simple for her. I'm going to hit her where it hurts.”
“So ... you and Derrick are officially over,” Essence voiced.
“That's what he says.”
“You know you deserved this, right?”
“How?”
“You cheated on Derrick. What better way for karma to come back than you finding him in bed with another woman?”
“I didn't deserve this,” I replied sternly.
“Zacariah, all of this scheming we've been doing has finally caught up to both of us.”
“Except mine is not as serious as yours. Granted, we both got some drama going on, but yours is a bit more serious since you don't know who's doing all these nasty things to you. I know who's making my life a living hell.”
“True, but Zacariah, we need to stop playing games and grow up. We are getting too old to plot, scheme, and fight. We're almost thirty. We need to act like we have some sense.”
“Speak for yourself. I'm still twenty-five.”
“In your mind,” Essence said.
“And my body. Look at me. I'm fine.”
“You all right, but that fineness isn't going to last forever. You better think about getting a job or go to school or something, because those looks are going to disappear eventually.”
“As long as I got beauty, I'm going to always snag the rich cuties. And once I have one of them in my life and in my bed, I will not have to want for anything.”
“You never listen when somebody is trying to give you some sound advice.”
“Okay Ms. Advice-Giver. How about taking some advice yourself? Leave that low-life Jaquon alone.”
“I'm going to as soon as I sleep with him a couple more times.”
“You have let him stimulate your mind to the point of infatuation.”
“Enough of this playing tit for tat,” she said getting up from the table with her plate and glass in hand.
“You're the one who wanted to talk. I guess my words are stepping on your toes.”
“And I'm getting ready to move my feet,” she said, putting her dishes in the sink and leaving the kitchen.
I finished my food and thought about how my life had changed so drastically in the past few days. What Essence didn't know was that no matter how hard I was trying to forget about the images of Derrick and Kea together, I couldn't. It was seared in my mind. I was hurting from what he did to me, even if I did act like it didn't bother me. I never thought he would allow another woman to come between us, let alone Kea. He had to really like her to risk his friendship with Jaquon. But after my little revelation, I guess if Jaquon found out about their tryst, it wouldn't matter since Jaquon had already crossed the line of sleeping with his best friend's girl too. I could still see the hurt look on Derrick's face when I told him.
“You slept with
Jaquon?
” he asked, stunned, and I wished I hadn't said anything. It was bad enough I had cheated on him, but to admit sleeping with his best friend was my biggest mistake.
“Derrick, I didn't mean to say that.”
“But you did, and I can tell by the look on your face that it's true.”
I looked down at my hand which started to tremble a bit.
“When?” he asked.
“Several months ago,” I answered nervously.
“Where?”
I looked over at what used to be our bed, and his eyes followed them.
“My bed? You slept with him in
my
bed?” he exclaimed grabbing my shoulders, shaking me.
“Let me go,” I said, struggling to get out of his grasp.
“Who the hell are you? What type of slut did I allow myself to get involved with?”
“I'm not a slut.”
“Well, you damn sure haven't shown me anything different. How many more men have you spread your legs for?” he asked, pushing me backward into the wall.
“You did it too. I just caught you.”
“But the difference between now and then, Zacariah, is now we are not together. Then you were living with me. Then you were driving the car I bought you. Then we were supposed to be the only ones sleeping in that bed,” he said pointing at the mangled sheets he and Kea just came from up under.
“I'm sorry for my part in this.”
“Your part
started
all this, Zacariah. If you would have just loved me truly like I loved you, then we would be lying there now. I would still be giving you everything I thought you deserved. But now I know you deserve nothing. You appreciate nothing. You spit on our relationship to whore around, and that's why we're over.”
His words ripped through my heart like a bullet tearing through flesh. And this was all Kea's fault. She's the reason why we are not getting back together. That tramp is definitely going to get what's coming to her. I'm going to make sure I destroy her life.
Kea
I hadn't heard from Daddy since the night of the wedding. I wanted to know how he was doing. I tried calling him several times, but he didn't answer. This was unlike him. So I decided to drive over to see what was going on. When I entered my parents' house, stuff was everywhere. Someone had ransacked their home, and I began to worry. I wanted to run out and call the cops, but Daddy's car was in the driveway, so I knew he had to be here. Not wanting to panic before I had to, I called out to him. There was no answer. I called out again, but still, no one responded. My heart wanted to leap into my throat, but I tried hard to maintain my cool. This was a big house, so maybe they couldn't hear me.
I walked farther into the house looking at picture frames which had been shattered, broken vases, ripped down curtains, and even the flat-screen above the fireplace mantel in the den had been destroyed. I called out again, and finally, my mother walked down the spiral staircase with a glass in her hand.
“Well, well, well. Look at the trash in my home.”
I wanted to believe she was talking about the destroyed items, but I knew she was referring to me.
“Hello, Mother.”
“I didn't think I told you to come in.”
“You forget I have a key.”
“Remind me to get my locks changed because you are no longer welcomed here,” she said through slurred speech. That meant Mother was on one of her drinking binges.
“Where's Daddy?”
“You mean that piece of crap I've been married to for all these years? He's around here somewhere.”
No sooner than she said that, Daddy came walking down the stairs with two huge suitcases in his hands.
“Daddy, can you tell me what's going on here? I tried calling you, but you didn't answer,” I said. “And why do you have those suitcases?”
“I'm leaving your mother, Kea. This is something I should have done a long time ago,” he said glaring at her.
“Get the hell out then,” she yelled throwing the glass at him. It missed him by miles.
“And the reason why you didn't get me is because Frances destroyed my cell phone along with all of this,” he stated, looking around at the demolished space.
“And I would do it again,” Mother said. “Most of my money paid for all of this anyway.”
“Keep thinking you did this all by yourself,” Daddy replied.
“I never should have married you, Joseph. You were the biggest mistake of my life. No. No,” she said pointing at me.
“
She
was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Why do you insist on treating me like this, Mother? What have I ever done to you?”
“You were born,” she spit out coldly.
“Enough,” Daddy said. “Let's get out of here before your mother picks up something else to throw at us,” he said hurrying to the door.
“You're just a coward,” Mother bantered. “You thought you were helping me when you married me. All you did was burden my life,” she yelled at Daddy.
“Let's go, Kea,” Daddy urged.
The look on his face was one of fear. I knew Mother could be a scary lady, but I knew Daddy wasn't afraid of her either. Something else was making him act like this.
“Why are you rushing me, Daddy? What's going on?” I asked curiously.
“He just doesn't want me to tell you what I should have told you a long time ago,” Mother smirked.
“Daddy, what is she talking about?” I asked confused, turning to him.
He lowered his head.
“Daddy, please talk to me.”
“Tell her, Joseph. Tell her everything,” Mother snickered evilly. She went to the bar and poured herself another generous drink.
“What type of hold does she have on you?” I asked Daddy compassionately.
“I'll tell you,” came her cold reply as she walked closer to me, tripping over the broken items on the floor. Daddy stepped in front of me before Mother could get any closer.
“No, you won't. If anyone is going to tell her, it's going to be me.”
She stepped back smiling deviously.
“Tell me what, Daddy? You're scaring me.”
“Kea, maybe you should have a seat.”
“I don't want to sit down. I want you to tell me what's going on!”
“Don't be afraid now,” Mother sneered. “You acting like you scared to tell her. Enlighten her as to why I hate her so much.”
Daddy looked at me through sorrowful eyes and said, “You know I love you. I love you more than life itself, and I hope you won't let this affect our life in the future. I'm going to always be here for you, no matter what, and I'm going to help you through this any way I can.”
“Get on with it already,” Mother bellowed.
Daddy looked at her to shut up, and then turned his attention back to me.
“Kea, the reason why ...” he paused with his hands trembling.
“Kea, baby, I'm not your father.”
His words stung like a thousand hornets attacking.
“Not my father?” I said, not understanding.
“Biologically, I'm not,” he revealed with water forming in his eyes.
“I don't understand,” I said shaking my head.
Out of nowhere, Mother pushed Daddy aside and said, “
You
are the product of a
rape
.”
I looked back and forth from Daddy to Mother waiting for the punch line. I looked around for the
Candid Camera
crew to jump out and say you've been punked, but the looks on their faces with Mother glaring at me like I repulsed her and Daddy looking distressed let me know this had to be true.
“Rape?” was all I could manage to utter. “But you raised me,” I said looking at Daddy.
“He raised you because I didn't want you,” Mother said uncaringly. “I was a poor little girl who grew up with nothing. Half of the time there was no food in my house to eat. I had a mother who worked three jobs to support her children and a man who refused to get off his lazy behind and do anything for us,” she fumed. “He would beat Mama until she gave him her check. Then he would go out and blow it on drinking, gambling, and other women. A lot of times we sat in the dark at night because my stepfather spent the electric bill money. He spent the grocery money. And all Mama could do was work to take care of a fool who didn't love her. I think she worked as much as she did to get away from him. But she failed to realize she left children at home to deal with him.”
I listened intently. I never knew about any of my mother's past, and now I could see why she didn't want to disclose it.
“I felt alone as a child. I had no one to turn to. Yes, I had siblings, but they were trying to survive just like me. And in my loneliness, my stepfather took it upon himself to provide the companionship I needed. But I didn't want the type of companionship he was giving. I didn't want to play the game of touchy-feely,” Mother said with tears now running down her cheeks.
“And this went on for years until I developed into a woman. By the age of thirteen, my stepfather was sleeping with me,” she said through hot tears.
“He was raping me, and there wasn't anyone who came to my rescue,” she screamed, turning around kicking the objects on the floor while Daddy stood looking at me as if he wanted to take me into his arms and shield me from all this ugliness.
“I was a child, dammit. How could my own mama not see what this man was doing to me? And when I finally got up the nerve to tell her, she didn't believe me,” Mother said with more tears falling.
“But that didn't stop her from confronting him anyway about my accusation, and, of course, he denied it. Hell, the bastard beat Mama for asking, and she let it go after that. I didn't understand why she just didn't pack her children up and run. She could have taken us away from him. We could have lived in a car or something. Anything was better than what we were dealing with. But my mother chose to stay. She allowed him to continue to do what he was doing to me,” Mother said, still crying.
“My stepfather didn't expect me to get pregnant because when he started having sex with me, I wasn't having my period. I didn't get that until I was almost fifteen years old. And that's when I got pregnant. He told Mama I was hot in the tail and I let some boy get me knocked up. I tried to tell Mama it was her husband's child I was carrying, but she wasn't trying to hear me,” Mother screamed as loud as she could, releasing all that pent up anger. “And don't you know that time I lost the baby. I ended up miscarrying. My stepfather couldn't even wait for me to stop bleeding from losing the baby before he was climbing on top of me to ... to . . . rape me again. Needless to say, it didn't take long before I was knocked up a second time,” Mama said looking at me.
By now, I was in tears myself. This story was horrible, and to know my mother went through so much suffering disturbed me.
Daddy came closer to me saying, “That's when I met Frances. I fell head over heels in love with her the first time I saw her. I could see she was going through something, but I didn't care. I loved her. Eventually, she trusted me, letting me know she was carrying her stepfather's child,” Daddy said.
“I wanted to lose this baby too. I thought about throwing myself down some steps. I drank. I smoked. I did everything I could to lose you, but you kept growing inside me,” she said glaring at me.
“You kept moving and making me feel miserable. It was like you were fighting to live, and I didn't understand why I was being punished. And Joseph told me he would stay with me. He told me he would take me away from all of that and wanted me to stop what I was doing and that it wasn't the baby's fault. He begged me to keep you, but I didn't want to,” Mother said despondently.
“I married your mother right before you were born,” Daddy said.
“Mama couldn't wait to sign those papers giving me to someone else to handle. She saw me as a problem within our family and was more than happy to see me leave. Or maybe a small part of her knew what her man was doing to me and with me gone he would no longer be cheating on her.”
She paused a second, getting choked up at the realization of her mother not wanting her.
“I had you when I was only sixteen years old,” Mother said.
“And I thought you were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen,” Daddy expressed. “I fell in love with you as soon as I laid my eyes on you. Your tiny hands gripped my finger, and I knew I was where I was supposed to be. I was supposed to raise you as my daughter.”
“This is too much,” I said backing away. “If I was your daughter, then why did you let Mother beat on me like she did?”
“I should have stopped her, and I will regret it for as long as I live, but Frances told me if I ever went against her when it pertained to you and Emory, she would send you to live with your real father,” Daddy said dejectedly.
“You threatened to send me to the man who
raped
you?” I asked Mother.
“He was your father! I spent enough time raising you on my own. It was his turn.”
“You were not raising her alone, Frances,” Daddy yelled.
“I had to look into this child's face every day of my life. She was a constant reminder of a life I was trying to put in the past, but how could I when the past was staring me in the face,” Mother said with hatred dripping off her words.
“Did you
ever
love me, Mother?” I asked, not wanting to give her the thrill of seeing my pain. It took everything I had in me to hold back tears. I felt like what I was hearing was changing my entire existence.
“Did you ever love me, Mother?” I asked again.
“No,” she said, shooting me a poisoned look, not even blinking. She meant it too. I shuddered at her insensitive reaction to hurting me with just that one word, no.
“Baby girl, I loved you. Do you hear me? I said I love you. Look into my eyes,” my father told me. I looked up at him.
“See the love I have for you. What I should've done was leave your Mother to live her life. I wanted to take you and Emory away from all of this, but I knew she would call the cops on me. She told me if I ever left with you girls, she would have me locked up for kidnapping and I would never see the two of you again. She told me she would send you to the man who raped her and raise Emory on her own. I couldn't let her do that to you. Regardless, the two of you were sisters. I felt like my hands were tied, and I didn't know what to do,” he said crying. “I loved you both so much.”
“But aren't you Emory's father? How could she lock you up if you were Emory's dad?” I asked, figuring if Daddy married Mama when she was pregnant with me, then Emory had to be his.