The Glamorous Life 2 (3 page)

One night in the wee hours of the morning, she woke up out of her sleep and left her and Compton’s bedroom to go to the bathroom. She was wearing some short-pants pajamas and a short-sleeve pajama shirt. Nothing too revealing, but there was no way to hide her overdeveloped hips, butt, and breasts. One of Big Jack’s workers, Joey, was coming out of the restroom as she was going in. He looked her up and down, licked his lips like she was a lollipop. “Damn, girl,” he said.

Calliope ignored him, acting as if she didn’t notice him or hear him. After she finished her business in the restroom, she opened the door to exit it. Before she could react, he had palmed her ass and then grabbed her and pulled her closer to him. He put her hand on his erect manhood. “Stop!” she screamed, trying to remove her hands, but he had her up against the wall. “Shut up. You know you want it.”

“No I don’t,” she said loudly and firmly, hoping someone would hear her and make him stop.

Then he threw his tongue down her mouth, and that’s when she tried with all her might to squeeze the blood circulation out of his penis. But his pants were so oversized that she couldn’t do enough damage to stop him before he took his strong hands and grabbed ahold of hers. With his tongue down her throat, it was damn near impossible to scream. Instead she tried to kick the wall, to alert somebody in the house of what was going on, hoping and praying someone would hear and come and help her. For a split second he took his tongue out of her mouth, and at that point, she screamed at the top of her lungs, “Stop!” He ignored her and kept on moving forward. By this time he had his hands down her shorts and almost in her underwear, when Compton came and bit his leg. “Get off my sister.” Joey pushed Compton’s little puny behind down. With just that small distraction, somewhere the strength came. With all her might she kneed him in the nuts.

“Shit’s too much work,” he said to her, and looked her in the eyes. “You lucky it’s the wrong time and wrong place.”

“Punk ass.” Calliope looked at him as he walked away. Compton came to his sister.

Then out of nowhere came Big Jack. “What the fuck you doing?” he said, wanting an explanation from Joey.

“Shit, nigga, she ain’t nothing of yours, not yo daughter. You hate them kids.”

“She in my house, under my fucking roof. And you don’t disrespect me in my fucking house.”

Before Calliope or Compton even knew it, Big Jack pulled out his black gun from behind his back and started to pistol-whip Joey. Big Jack caught a glimpse of both of the kids watching him. He stopped and pulled his gun on Joey, who had blood gushing out of his head and it looked like a tooth was missing.

“Get that bat from over there in the corner,” he instructed Calliope, “and come here.” She did as she was told. She went into the den, where Shelly was curled up on the couch watching television. She didn’t budge, blink, or look away from her program as Calliope went to the corner by the lamp and got the bat. When she returned, she extended the Louisville Slugger to Big Jack.

He shook his head and rejected it. “Hell naw,” he told her. “Now you beat him. Teach this motherfucker a lesson, so he knows better than to ever try some shit like that with
you
again. I want you to hit this sorry sack of shit so hard that he will not only think twice but he will warn other pussy-ass motherfuckers who see you in that light. He will warn them about even thinking of trying you.”

Calliope had never been in a fight in her life. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hit Joey. She was glad that she was out of his hold and just wanted him out of her sight. She hesitated. “Look, if you don’t do it, I’m going to kill this motherfucker right here and it’s going to be your fucking fault. It’s up to you to teach motherfuckers a lesson. See, in this cold-ass world, you teach motherfuckers how to treat you. And this your first teaching gig,” Big Jack said with much malice in his heart.

Calliope had no choice. She raised the bat and took her first swing and unleashed all the hurt, frustration, and pain in her on Joey, while Compton watched. She never heard the high-pitched scream that came after the first lick, but she did hear Big Jack’s voice—“Shut the fuck up, child molester!”—which silenced Joey for the moment. But the next lick, she heard him plead, “Pleassse.”

Big Jack interjected, “Don’t beg now, motherfucker. You didn’t hear her when she was begging, did you?”

Calliope had had enough, but Big Jack said to her, “One more time.” And she did as she was told, then handed him the bat.

He took the bat and was silent for a minute, then called Compton. “Lil’ nig … come here,” he said, and when Compton got to Big Jack, he handed him the bat.

“Look, now.” He leaned in and said in a tone above a whisper, “No disrespect, my lil’ nig, but you know yo momma ain’t shit for real, and yo sister all yo got. And it’s up to you to let a motherfucker know he can’t fuck with yo sister and do anything he want to her.”

Compton wasn’t afraid to strike, and unlike his sister, he didn’t have any tears in his eyes.

“Teach that motherfucker a lesson,” Big Jack said, still with his gun drawn.

To everyone’s surprise, Compton started swinging and didn’t want to stop. Big Jack had to intervene. “Man, you gonna kill him.” And with a pat on the back and an approving nod, he added, “But that’s right. You need to be ready to kill for your sister. That’s all you really got in this world, my lil’ nig.”

Just like that, Big Jack took a couple of steps down the hallway and peeped into the den and called for his two workers to get Joey up and out of the house. He returned with the workers. “Well, lesson learned,” he said to the kids. “And now get y’all’s asses cleaned up and back to bed. Y’all gotta be up early in the morning.” Then he yelled to Shelly, “Yo, make yoself useful, get some bleach and clean this shit up.” It was apparent that she wanted to delegate it to the kids, but it was a direct order and she didn’t have any choice.

“I want to kill him,” Compton said, still on a rush.

“Killing won’t make you a man,” Calliope said to her little brother.

“I promise when I get big, I’m not going to let anybody ever hurt you.” He knew that his sister was still a bit emotional, so he made a little joke. “This is why I’m going to eat my Wheaties.”

“I know. But we just gotta always stick together now, and always watch each other’s back. Thank you for getting that pervert off me. If you wouldn’t came when you did, God knows what might have happened.”

She hugged him as they went back in their room and locked the door.

That episode wasn’t the last of its kind, but it definitely prompted her to prepare for the next one. Big Jack may not always be around. It got so bad that for protection, Calliope borrowed three butcher knives from the kitchen. Although she tried to hold her pee until the morning, she always had a pocketknife with her when she went to the bathroom. If someone tried to hurt her or Compton, they’d not only regret it, she’d see to it that they lost a vital organ.

Every night after dinner, before going to sleep, they’d slide the dresser in front of the door. They didn’t want anyone to slip into their room while they slept. They’d say their prayers and she’d promise her brother that everything was going to be okay. And she wanted to believe it, but living under those circumstances she knew it was survival of the fittest and she was determined to live even if it meant someone else would die.

2

One evening, Compton and
Calliope were in the room watching reruns of
The Cosby Show
when Shelly came in the house with both hands filled with shopping bags.

“Honeyyyy, I’m home,” she said, all excited and happy, caught up in this so-called fairy tale that she felt like she was living in. She had a good man making money, who people respected, who allowed her to have the finer things in life. This was the first time that she had someone who allowed her to be pampered like she should. Hair and nails done every week, and some kind of shopping every day.

“Yo, I’m here,” Big Jack called back to her from his office, the kitchen.

Though Shelly always stressed to the kids to stay out of grown folks’ business, that didn’t stop Calliope or Compton from going to their bedroom door to ear hustle in on Shelly and Big Jack’s conversation.

Though Compton would never want to admit it, though Big Jack was a bad man and seemed to be a shrewd, deranged person when it came to his business, there was something alluring about him. Big Jack seemed like a character from one of those hood gangsta movies, though he wasn’t acting, he was the real deal. Compton always watched from afar the way Big Jack dealt with folks and handled certain situations.

Shelly went straight into the kitchen and gave Big Jack a long
Gone With the Wind
tongue kiss. “Hey, baby,” she said, smiling. Then she proceeded to the Victoria’s Secret shopping bag and pulled out this red sexy number. “Look what I got for you tonight.” She gleamed. “I know how you like me in red and all.” She smiled again.

Calliope and Compton turned their noses up thinking of their mother modeling the negligee. “Yuck,” they both agreed.

Big Jack looked it over and nodded. “That’s nice, real nice,” he said, smacked her on her butt, and then asked, “And what else you got?”

Shelly was just as excited to share her shopping experience with her man, who had funded it all. She happily began pulling things out of the designer and boutique shopping bags, displaying all the things that she had purchased. Some of the things she modeled for him, parading everything around the living room. “Here, baby, these things are for you.” She sat patiently as he opened up the bag and examined the things she had gotten him, waiting for his approval.

By the time she pulled the last thing out of the bag, he had a blank look on his face as if he was waiting for either more or the punch line. “What, baby?”

“How much you spend?” he blurted out, cutting straight to the chase.

Shelly’s smile quickly went to a frown. “Umm.” It was obvious she made it seem like she was trying to calculate the cost before speaking, but Big Jack knew better. See, he was a real G, in so many aspects of the word, and he had been around the block a few times. He knew that she was trying to run the pros and cons in her mind, as if she was trying to decide whether or not she was going to tell him the truth. So he nipped that in the bud.

“Look, baby. I ain’t tripping on no got-damn money. Straight up! Never have. Never will. Believe that,” he said, looking in her eyes. “Money don’t mean shit to me. It comes and it goes. But the beauty of it is that I make money all day, every day. Hell, I makes that shit when I’m asleep.”

The look of relief took over Shelly’s face and out came a sigh. “I spent like six grand, I think.”

“And this is everything you got?” he questioned. “No more bags in the car?”

“Yeah, and I did good! Caught some real sweetheart deals.” Shelly was getting her confidence and excitement back up about her day of shopping. “Baby, this is over fifteen grand worth of shit. The malls had some killer sales,” she said, boasting of the bargains she got. “And one thing about me, I do know how to bargain shop and get rock-bottom prices on certain things.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said, glaring down on her with a strong look of disbelief.

“What’s wrong, baby?” she asked, putting her arms around him. She could see his dissatisfaction with her written all over his face, but she didn’t have the foggiest idea as to why.

He didn’t embrace her back. Instead he walked away and focused his attention on what he was doing.

“Baby,” she cried out, “talk to me.”

He didn’t say anything. Just looked at her like she stank.

“Papi”—she went closer to him—“baabbbby,” she said in a whiney voice. “Please talk to me.”

He shook his head and she still looked dumbfounded. Then he spoke. “I’m trying to understand how the fuck you go to the mall and tear it down, spending money on top of money, and not as much as bring back either one of your kids a pair of fucking socks.” He gave her a look of disgust. “Shit’s ridiculous.” He shook his head and added, “Real fucking ridiculous.”

He might as well have stabbed her with a butcher knife or a spear because he cut into her. “Just fucking despicable.” The emphasis he put on those words might as well have been some hollow-point bullets.

Now, if anybody else would have said that to her, she wouldn’t have given two shits. But the fact that it came from Big Jack, the words tore through her heart. “You a poor excuse for somebody’s momma. You some shit,” he calmly and bluntly said to her.

Tears were in her eyes. The truth did hurt, and those words were sad but oh so true. She wasn’t hurt the least from the actual truth about her mothering skills. Before she could respond, he said, “I knew you had your issues when I first met you, but I still fucked with you. Everybody got their flaws. I just … I ain’t have no idea that you were that fucked up.”

Wow! That really hurt her to the core of her heart. She was embarrassed that he knew her secret and he called her out on it. She tried to kiss on him. “Baby, don’t say that,” she said, and tried to rub on his penis.

He grabbed her hand and forcefully removed it from his manhood. “Get the fuck off of me,” he said coldly, and then shot her a look that said he meant it. “This the wrong time for you to be rubbing on my dick. Don’t you know that shit results in making babies? And if you was the last bitch left on this planet, I wouldn’t procreate with you under no circumstances.”

Shelly stood there for a minute, looking at him, searching for the right words to say. But before she could find them, he stabbed her again with the words, “Get the fuck from around me.” The words cut through her like a knife The tears began to swell up in her eyes and she did as she was told, but not before informing him, “I just want you to know that you really hurt my feelings.” She tried to stand up for herself.

“Well, the truth … that shit hurt, don’t it?” He questioned, with no remorse that he had hurt her with his accusations. “And furthermore, don’t ask me what the fuck is wrong if you don’t want the real got-damn answer. I ain’t sugarcoating shit with you, man. The fact remains that you a selfish bitch with no motherly instinct or regard for your own damn children. That shit is a major flaw.”