In My Sister's House (16 page)

Storm walked toward Skylar and, when she got right in front of her, started to applaud.

“Congratulations, sister girl. Is that what you want to hear? Huh? That the good daughter came in to save the day? Well, let me tell you something, sis.” She got right up in her face. “All that bullshit you talkin’ don’t mean shit to me, ’cause I’m just as much a part of this place as you are. Remember that shit! I’m just as responsible for this business as you are. I’m just as entitled to make decisions about it as you are. And I have an executive decision to make right now.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Storm?”

“I want to collect on my inheritance. That’s what this is, right? Dutch left it to both of us?”

Skylar couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Storm continued. “Yeah, you heard me. I’ve been down for three years, and it’s time for me to collect. So I tell you what. Either you buy me out or we sell this bitch and split the money.”

Stunned at what Storm had just proposed, Skylar needed a moment
for all of it to sink in. “Are you crazy? I have no plans to sell Legends, nor are there any plans to buy you out. If you think that I am going to let you ruin what I’ve built in the last two years, you have lost your
got damn mind!”
Storm could not remember the last time she had seen her sister this angry. It actually surprised her a little. She tried reasoning with Skylar.

“Look, I see what you’ve done to the spot. You’ve made your mark all over this place. But I’m just saying sometimes you gotta look at the bigger picture. Grow bigger, expand til you blow shit up!” Storm’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Just think about the possibilities of what could happen—just hear me out.”

“You have lost your friggin’ mind. I’m not even listening to this.” Skylar started to walk away.

“Wait a minute, sis,” She grabbed Skylar by the arm gently. “I just want to bend your ear about an idea DuBoy and Torch have been talking about—”

Jerking her arm away, Skylar snapped, “Don’t you touch me. I am not interested in any get-rich-quick schemes involving two lowlifes like DuBoy and Torch.”

“There you go, judging people. Torch made shit happen in this town and the brotha is giving us a chance to make
bank
. I’m talking serious paper, girl! Not this nickel-and-dime shit you got rolling up in here.”

Skylar could literally have killed Storm at that moment. “I’m done,” she said as she started walking toward the kitchen area. Storm followed right behind her. Swinging open the door leading into the kitchen, Skylar abruptly stopped and spun around to confront her sister. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow you to downplay what I’ve done here. Now, if you’re not happy, then you can get the hell out!” Standing toe-to-toe, Skylar shouted, “I have had enough of you—and you know what?” She stopped herself from continuing and saying something she would have regretted. Instead, hot tears streamed down down her face and she trembled with anger—and with fear. Was it possible that her sister and her thuggish clowns could ruin all that she’d worked so hard to save?

Witnessing a side of her sister that she had never seen before— and determined to make this business proposal work—Storm softened her approach and apologized.

Tears formed in her eyes—a bit less genuine than her sister’s— and she said, “Look, I know I seem out of hand. It’s just that I am out, sis. I’m free, and I just want a chance. That’s all. I want to succeed and push forward, too.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “And you’re holding me back. It’s almost like you wish I hadn’t come home.”

Skylar didn’t say a word, but the expression on her face showed Storm that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Wow, that’s really fucked up that you would even think some shit like that, with all I’ve been through,” Storm said, turning away from her sister and wiping away her tears—these as genuine as they come. She was pissed that she’d allowed Skylar to see her so weak at that moment.

“Been through? Girl, what have you been through?” Skylar came from behind her and faced her. “You had three squares, a warm bed to sleep in, and no damn bills, while I worked my ass off to keep my head above water.” Skylar’s voice intensified as she went on, “Sometimes I was not even able to make payroll. With all you been through? Bitch, please! You try waking the hell up every day with that
shit
on you. Not knowing what state of mind I was going to find Dutch in every day.” Skylar was becoming more and more upset as she continued getting off her chest what she had obviously been feeling for quite some time.

“Having to bathe him, feeding him like some damn baby! Cleaning him up after he’d shit on himself. I didn’t mind it, because that was my father, but don’t you come in here with ‘All I been through.’ So let me say it again: You ain’t been through shit! Now get the hell out of my face and let me do my work!”

Silence fell over the room. Neither sister knew what to say next. Just then Storm’s cellphone went off. Taking it from the pocket of her sweats, she looked at it then shut it off. Walking up to Skylar, she softly told her that she was sorry that she wasn’t there to help with
their father. Sounding a bit more sincere, she admitted, “Look, I know I fucked up, more than once even, but Skylar, don’t you ever say that I haven’t been through shit. Talk about unfair. I think I deserve a chance to do my own thing. You got to do yours. Now it’s my turn.”

Skylar smirked, “It’s easy to say stuff like that now, Storm, now that all the work and effort has already been put in.” Thanks but no thanks was her feeling about Storm’s tearful confession.

Walking away from her sister, Storm went off with her head bowed, rested both hands on the stainless steel counter for balance, and closed her eyes. Tears ran down her face in perfectly straight lines and gathered under her chin before falling onto her top. Not lifting her head she began to recount her time in prison.

“You know the first few weeks weren’t so bad, before the trial. Bitches just chillin’—doing their time. I had heard that as long as you minded your own business, shit would remain cool. But after I had to turn in that plea, reality set in that this was going to be where I would spend the next few years of my life.”

They were led off the bus in pairs. Storm was handcuffed to a hardcore dyke by the name of Trae who tried talking to her the entire ride. When Storm stepped off the bus, shit just got quiet. Even in her loose-fitting jumpsuit Storm looked good. The Bulls—that’s what they called the inmates—hadn’t seen a bitch this bad in a long time. The whole yard suddenly became speechless. “Shit, they ain’t looking at me,” Trae said. “Gotta be you, Shorti. Be strong, ’cause bitches up here are ruthless.”

Trying not to show any signs of fear, Storm held her head high and gave hard cold stares to the women, who looked as if they could devour her at any moment. Something trickled down her leg and she didn’t know if it was pee or if her
flow
had started. She was frightened.

Storm told her story calmly, and Skylar listened, their argument forgotten for the moment. “Wasn’t long before things changed.
They started fucking with me. The guards didn’t say shit. And I know they saw what was going on. Bitches playfully pulling on my hair when I walked by. This one named Shane tried me and I knocked her the fuck out!

“You know I have nothing against lesbians. We both know that Nettie’s one and we love her to death,” Storm reminded Skylar. “But I’m not down with that shit!” She took her time before she went on with the story.

“I … I was finishing up my shower one day when I felt a hand around my mouth and one around my throat. Before I knew it I was being forced down on the floor. Right away I knew what was happening. It was four of them.” Storm got lost in the memory of it and tearfully went on; she’d almost forgotten that Skylar was in the room. “I fought for my life as they took turns doing shit to me that …that made me feel like throwing up. One by one, they probed my body with fingers, hands … objects.”

Skylar covered her mouth with her hand, frightened as she listened to her sister’s story. It was hard for Storm to go on, but she did.

“One of them told me if I didn’t shut up and cooperate, that I’d meet
Johnny
. The voice sounded familiar to me, and when I opened my eyes, it was Trae—the one I was handcuffed to when I came in. The one that told me to watch myself. Another one shouted that the last bitch that didn’t do what they wanted was now wearing a colostomy bag. With that, Trae showed me what looked like a broomstick. Stroking it up and down like it was a dick, she let me know that this was Johnny. I closed my eyes and let them do just what they wanted. Even in the midst of what was happening to me I secretly vowed to get revenge.” Tears flowed down both sisters’ cheeks. Storm had no control over her words, talking even though her brain said stop, even though her heart said it was too painful. Storm steadily purged every disgusting and foul thing they had done to her.

At this point Skylar wished that she’d stop, too. It was not what she had expected to hear from her sister.

“You know what it does to a person’s mind when they’ve been
messed with, Sky?” Storm said, looking at her sister with tears in her eyes. “And the worst part?” She fought the lump in her throat. “There ain’t shit you can do about it. Who you gonna tell? Huh?”

She went on to tell Skylar that for days she pretty much stayed to herself. She didn’t shower, even when the stench of her own body got to her. Not long afterward, she was moved into another cell with three other girls. They’d all heard about what had happened to her, but no one said anything until Layaway, a lifer Jamaican chick in her fifties, befriended her. Layaway got her name because she was always borrowing from the commissary and promising to pay it all back as soon as she got more money on the books.

Storm said she was leery at first because she figured that Layaway would eventually want the same thing from her as the others. But this was not the case. Layaway was actually disgusted when she heard what they did to her. Dyking might have been her thing, but rape sho the fuck wasn’t. She told Storm that Trae had set the whole thing up and was boasting to everyone that she’d turned “Shortirock” out!

“Layaway told me if I wanted to get even, she had a plan. Told me to put in for laundry duty in the basement with her. Trae worked there, too. I wanted to ask what the plan was but I didn’t because I didn’t give a fuck. I just wanted a chance to get that dyke back. Wanted to get all four of them, but that would be impossible, especially so soon, and having a shot at the ringleader sat very well with me. But I needed to know what was in it for Layaway.

“Well, she just didn’t like the bitch, that was it. They had some beef over Trae snitching about some weed or something,” Storm said and let out a chuckle. “Layaway got angry just thinking about it! So we put a plan together, knowing that Trae had asthma and always needed her inhaler; she kept one in her cell and one in her prison smock that stayed in the laundry room, because it was always stifling hot down there. Shit, it was so hot the guards barely even came down there. It was usually just the three of us, me, Layaway, and Trae, who would do shit like slither her tongue in and out of her mouth and whatnot whenever I passed by. And so one day we’re
working, and Layaway walked by me and mouthed ‘Today’ and kept going. It took a moment for it to register what she meant, but seconds later my heart started pounding out of my chest. After all the anticipation, this was it.

“I still had no clue what Layaway had cooked up, but I was ready no matter what. Like clockwork, at three in the afternoon, the heat was getting to Trae and she went for her inhaler. Only this time it was not in the smock pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her going from pocket to pocket looking for it. Only it wasn’t there. She asked Layaway if she saw it, and me, and we were all like, ‘Nah.’ But then Layaway said she’d go up to Trae’s cell to get the other one, pretending to do her a favor, you know?

“I was kind of shocked when Trae agreed, but so be it. But she didn’t know that inhaler was never coming. Layaway left the room and gave me a nod to follow her. Trae was so into her own breathing and shit and keeping cool that she never even noticed that I was right behind Layaway, or that we locked the door behind us.

“I was scared shitless. Layaway said she’d be right back and under no circumstances should I open that door. To make sure I did what she said, she took the key with her. After a few moments, Trae looked up and saw that I was gone and started rushing toward the door.

“She was screaming at us to open the fuckin’ door! Twisting and turning the doorknob, pounding on the glass. She even tried to find something within reach to break it. But nothing could. It was too thick.”

Turning to Skylar, Storm asked, “Do you know what a person looks like when they can’t catch their breath, and all the while know that directly on the other side is fresh air? Staring through that glass, I never once thought of trying to help that bitch in any way. I wanted her to feel what I’d felt that horrible day on the shower floor— helpless. I wanted that dirty bitch to die. That was one of the best days of my life,” Storm proudly stated to Skylar.

Storm took her time before finishing the story.

“When the warden questioned us about Trae’s death, I expected
Layaway to say how she hadn’t gotten back in time with the inhaler and that I hadn’t come to work that day. Anything! Layaway’s record was clean. All the Bulls thought she was cool and the staff trusted her. Imagine my shock when I heard her say that in fact she was the one who didn’t come to work that day, and that to her knowledge, only me and Trae were down there.

“I started screaming at her to tell the truth. She didn’t budge, and I was led away to the hole, awaiting further investigation,” Storm told Skylar.

Thrown into the dark room, Storm had stayed in a fetal position for the next eight hours. She wondered why all of this was happening to her. Had she really been that bad of a person? Where was God? Where was Dutch? No one was there to help her. No one cared.

When they took her out of the hole, they brought her back up to the warden’s office, where he told her that, although there was no clear evidence that she had anything to do with Trae’s death, he was recommending that she serve out her entire sentence. Too many other cellies knew she had gone to work that day. Therefore, she was most likely present when Trae needed help but chose to stand around and watch her suffer.