Chapter 10
“Desire. Desire. Desire, wake up!”
“Huh? What?”
“Get up! You gotta go!”
I opened my eyes, and my vision was blurry. I sat up and slouched back down.
“Come on, you gotta go.” He lifted me out of the bed and placed me on my feet.
I could hardly walk. My legs were shaking, and my eyes were heavy. For a minute I didn't know where I was.
I looked at the clock. “Malik, it's four in the morning. What's wrong with you?”
I tried to turn around and get back in the bed, but he stopped me in my tracks.
“Desire, you can't stay here. You gotta go.” He picked up my sneakers and handed them to me.
“What? I thought you saidâ”
“Shhh! My mother is 'sleep.” He led me to the kitchen. Then out the back door we went.
“I thought you said I could stay with you?”
“Desire, come on. You know I was playing.”
I stood there looking pitiful.
Slam!
Just like that, he closed the door in my face. I got on my bike and began peddling home, trying to hold back tears. All I could think about was how Malik lied to me and how my black ass was going to get in trouble for sneaking out.
See, when Malik told me I could stay with him, it was like he'd lifted a burden off my shoulders. I just knew I wouldn't have to see or answer to my aunt and uncle anymore. There would be no getting in trouble for sneaking out or being yelled at constantly for no reason, or being treated like a piece of shit.
Malik made me think that all that was gonna be washed away. I was wrong though. He left me riding home trying to figure out what lie I was going to tell when I got caught for sneaking out. There was no way I was getting back in the house without being heard or seen.
Reality hit, y'all. I couldn't face my aunt and uncle. I came up with a plan though, and guess where it landed me? In the hospital.
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Auntie Linda and Uncle Frank were once again fuming. They'd rushed to the hospital after hearing I had been hit by a car. I rode my bike in the middle of the street purposely to get hit by a car. It was stupid, but it worked. Luckily, I didn't get hit bad enough to break any bones. I only got knocked off my bike, and ended up with minor scrapes and bruises, and some aches and pains.
“Desire, what the hell were you doing at four thirty in the morning on your bike?” Uncle Frank asked.
“I was trying to kill myself.”
“Trying to kill yourself?”
“My mother doesn't want me, and y'all don't want me. I thought I'd be doing y'all a favor.”
“You ain't dead, and we got plenty of knives in the kitchen,” Auntie Linda commented.
“Linda, please!”
“Shit! If she wants to kill herself because of what she thinks, then let her do it.”
“It's not what I think. It's what I
know
.” I turned on my side, pretending to be hurt, playing my role to the hilt.
Uncle Frank wheeled around to the other side of the bed. “Desire, we love you, and you know that. This was just stupid. You're not making us feel better by trying to kill yourself. This is nonsense. We love you dearly and would be crushed if you weren't around.”
I tried to make myself cry as I lay there in silence, but it wasn't working. After all the crying I did, at that particular time, I couldn't fake it for nothing.
“Desire, baby girl, listen to me. We love you, and trying to commit suicide does not solve any problems. I know. I've been there. You think I like being in this wheelchair? If I had a choice, of course, I'd rather be walking, but I'm not, due to the bad decisions I've made in life. You gotta do better. You are a bright young lady. You have so much to achieve. Don't let that go.”
Okay, I really was about to cry there. My uncle was reaching out to me. Damn, I love that man.
“Now, the doctor said you'll be able to come home tomorrow morning. We gonna leave you to yourself, but when you get home tomorrow, we are going to have some
us
time. We need to have a nice long talk, okay?”
I nodded my head up and down in agreement.
“Good. Get some rest and see you tomorrow.”
He leaned over to me, and I leaned in to let him give me a kiss on the forehead. My aunt stood there like she was about to melt. I said nothing and continued to lie there in the bed with an awkward look on my face.
“You all right, kiddo?” Uncle Frank asked.
“Yes,” I answered softly.
“Okay, we'll see you tomorrow, and you think about what I said.”
That was that, and he went out the door with my aunt. It was a relief to know that my crazy plan had worked, a stupid one, might I add, but it worked.
I dozed off to sleep and was awakened from the phone ringing. I didn't even know I had a working phone in the room.
I picked it up in a daze. “Hello,” I answered, puzzled.
“Desire, baby, are you okay? I heard about what happened to you.”
“Who's this?”
“What you mean, who's this? Who else would be calling you?”
“Malik?”
“Yeah. You better know who it is. When you getting out of the hospital?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Come see me tonight.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me.”
“Malik, I'm in the hospital,” I reminded him.
“I know where you are. That's where I called, right?”
“Yeah.”
“A'ight then. What's up? You comin' or what? I heard you didn't get hit that bad.”
I didn't respond.
“Hello.”
“Yeah,” I answered.
“So you comin'?”
“Nope,” I hesitantly answered, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
“What you mean, no?”
“I thought I couldn't stay with you?”
“That was last time. Tonight's a new night.”
“I don't know.”
“I'm coming to get you. Be ready.”
“Whâ”
Click
. He hung up the phone.
Before I knew it, I had snuck out of the hospital and hopped in the car with Malik. We got to his house, and I was introduced to weed for the first time. I watched him roll a Philly Blunt, filling it with marijuana. You know what happened after that. We got high as a kite. My amateur ass was choking and shit, but it was a good feeling. I think we smoked about three blunts together then we had sex multiple times. I didn't know what was going on half the time. I was not in my right mind. That weed did me in.
I went from dazing, to laughing, to depression. Then I got the munchies, and Malik only had enough junk food to feed himself. Stingy bastard. I watched him eat, got lightheaded, and eventually passed out.
I woke up in Malik's bed naked with no one lying next to me. I looked at his clock, and it was nine thirty in the morning. I hadn't planned on staying the night. I got up, grabbed my sneakers, and was headed to put my clothes on. Then I heard this lady singing, and her voice was getting closer. Malik's mom was heading toward his room.
I dashed to the bed, with my sneakers in hand, and crawled underneath.
She walked in the room and came straight over to his bed.
I moved in more, hoping not to get caught.
She stood there for a good three minutes. I don't know what she was doing, but next thing I knew, she was snatching his sheets off. She threw them down on the floor and left back out of the room.
I waited a little bit. As soon as I thought the coast was clear, I started easing my way out, but she came back into the room. I slid my leg back up under the bed.
She walked over to the bed and started putting new sheets on, mumbling to herself about how messy Malik was. She spotted my clothes, because she started talking about how he always got some girl in her house leaving their stuff around. She was saying she told him the next time she sees something out of place in her house, it's going in the trash. If I didn't feel humiliated to be under a bed with sneakers, stale bread, trash, and Lord knows what else, with no clothes on, and now his mother was talking about throwing my clothes away.
She left out of the room, and I eased out from under the bed, reactivating the aches and pains I had incurred from my accident. I looked around for my clothes, and they were nowhere in sight. They were gone. She wasn't playing. She really threw them away.
I sat on the bed naked, holding all I had leftâmy sneakers. I didn't know what I was going to do, and I was hoping while I was thinking about it that his mother didn't plan on coming back in the room. I wanted her to leave the house, so I could get the hell out of dodge. But where was I going with no clothes on?
That damn Malik. I was mad at him.
How the hell he gonna leave me in his house alone with his mama? Why would he do that?
He was a real son of bitch, I tell you. I hated myself for liking him.
Anyway, I waited and waited and waited. Between his mother's phone conversation and the shower and her cooking breakfast, I'd say I was stuck for about two hours just sitting on his bed naked and cold. I didn't want to make too much noise because I wasn't trying to get caught. Then I finally heard the door slam.
I walked to the window and watched as she walked to her car in a MBTA uniform. That was a good sign. That meant she was going to work. I waited for five minutes to make sure she was definitely gone.
I bombarded Malik's closet trying to find something to put on so I could leave. I really wanted to take a shower, but that would have been pushing it. I found a long T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts to throw on until I got to wherever I was going, of which I had no idea at the time. I think my hospital time had expired.
I knew my uncle and aunt would eventually be looking for me too, but I didn't really care. I was going to get in trouble anyway. All my privileges were gone anyway. What more could they take?
I went out the way I came inâthe back door. I searched around for my bike but realized in less than two seconds that Malik had picked me up from the hospital. I panicked for a second not knowing what to do, shivering from the cold wind.
I strolled from the backyard to the front of the house, and lo and behold, a police officer stopped me. Apparently, there was an alarm system, and once his mom left, she'd activated it. He asked me what was the pass code and everything. Of course, I had no idea what he was talking about.
“So you don't live here?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for my bike.”
“Why would your bike be here?”
“Because this is where I rode it to,” I answered rudely.
“You're a smarty, huh? What's your name, young lady?”
I paused for a while, trying to think of a fake name.
“Your name, please.”
“Betty.” Why I chose that name, I have no idea.
“Betty, huh. Betty what?”
“Smith,” I quickly said.
“You ever been to jail before, Miss Betty Smith?”
I got tense. “No.”
“So I'm gonna ask you again. What's your name, young lady?”
“Desire.”
“You think this is a joke, Desire?” he yelled. His deep Barry White voice intimidated me.
“No.” The tears were about to come.
“Desire what? What is your last name?”
“Huh?”
“Desire what?”
“JoâJones,” I stuttered.
He yelled, “Desire Jones, do you live here?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here, Desire Jones?”
“My friend lives here.”
“Oh, your friend lives here. And your friend is where?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“No, I don't know,” I answered, getting agitated. I was crying by this time. His voice was too raw and rigid.
“Not too smart now, huh? What you crying for?”
I wiped my eyes.
“Do your parents know where you are? How old are you?”
“No. I mean, yes. I'm thirteen.”