RedBone (12 page)

Looking at her siblings, and not wanting to let them down, she said, “Yes, Mamma.”

Brownie removed the knife from the vinyl seat, and handed it back to her with the blade in her direction. “Good.”

“How we gonna get in?” Shadow asked, eager as always to put in work.

“After he raped her, he wouldn’t let her leave. But she convinced him she wouldn’t tell anybody. For two hours he begged her not to say nothing. Eventually the little bastard let her go, after Chloe said she’d be back with some food, so the door should be open.” Brownie looked at her watch. “He’ll be expecting her back in the next fifteen minutes. So we gotta move now.”

Farah sat in her seat quietly. She belonged to a family of savages, and it bothered her terribly. She knew they often did things in secrecy, in the middle of the night without her. Most times they would creep out, and not so much as nudge her. She’d reasoned that before long the moment would come when she would be forced to participate. Now that the moment arrived, she realized she wasn’t ready.

When they made it to Dinette’s apartment building, Brownie and the children crept slowly up the stairs. “Y’all go in, and I’ll come in about fifteen minutes,” Brownie ordered.

Chloe turned the knob knowing it would open and walked into the apartment. Her siblings followed. When Chloe walked up to a door in the hallway she whispered, “It’s this one right here.”

Mia was the first to open the door. The light from the television illuminated the room, revealing someone sleeping under a thick, dark blanket. Shadow, Chloe, and Mia all walked into the bedroom and surrounded the bed. Looking at one another, smiles dressed their faces as one by one they took turns stabbing at the mound. When a woman’s voice yelled out in pain, Farah was shocked to see that it was Dinette instead of Theo under the covers. She knew right away that they lied to get her to participate in the crime. Farah dropped the knife and was preparing to run out of the room when she bumped into her mother. Brownie smiled slyly, and walked into the room to taunt the woman she’d hated for so long.

Years would pass before Farah would learn the real events leading up to that night. Theo was staying at a friend’s house, and Tommy had left her last year. If they were going to do anything, it had to be tonight. Herbert, the project’s maintenance man, gave Brownie a key to Dinette’s apartment for fifty bucks to buy some dope. It was easier than Brownie could’ve ever imagined. After all those years, Brownie never got over her suspicions that she fucked Ashur. Loving the color of blood, she finally sought revenge. Farah knew the moment she left that room that life would never be the same for her, and she was right.

Chapter 11

Present Day Mooney s House

Mooney sat in the window and stared at the empty field. She wondered where everyone was, because there was usually activity in front of the building at all times. When there was a knock at the door she rubbed her elbow, stood up, and opened it wide. Melinda and Cutie Tudy were standing outside with attitudes on their faces. Cutie had her hands crossed over her chest, in typical brat fashion, and her ghetto foster mother was chewing gum like a cow.

“You mind watching her, Mooney?” Melinda asked between a few gum pops. She was a hustler’s dream. She had a flat stomach, phat ass, and a mouth wetter than the Nile. She was dipped in diamonds and platinum and her face was massaged a little too heavily with red blush. “She ain’t allowed to be by herself for a while, since she don’t know how to act.” She looked down at Cutie and tugged her ear.

“Ow, Ma!” Cutie responded, hitting her hand. “Stop that shit!”

“Shut the fuck up!” she yelled down at her. “Anyway—she smiled faker than a Gucci purse spelled with a C—“she fought that little black bitch upstairs and now they can’t be together because they social workers involved.” Melinda started wrestling through her Louis Vuitton purse as she continued to talk. “These kids trying to get my checks stopped ... I swear to God.” Removing a five dollar bill from her purse she said, “Here, use this if she needs something to eat.”

Mooney looked at the short money and said, “Naw ... you can keep that. I have stuff to make sandwiches, and if she don’t want that, I’ll order a pizza.” Melinda stuffed the bill back in her purse so fast she almost punched a hole in the bottom.

“Ma, you said I could watch myself,” Cutie whined. “I wanted to go outside and play with my friends. Plus my boyfriend gonna be outside today.”

“Until they take that jealous bitch out of my house, and her twin, I gotta keep y’all separated. You heard them peoples. I know how you are when you go out, Cutie. You be out there running your mouth nonstop, and then you get thirsty and wanna come in the house to drink up my wine coolers.” She continued with her hands on her hips, “That girl and her sister are up there now, so I don’t need you fucking with them.”

“But why I gotta be the one to leave my house?”

’Cause you told me last night you liked Mooney.”

“Ma! I didn’t say that shit!” Cutie was so embarrassed she wanted to faint.

“Yes, you did, now go on in there.” She pushed her inside. “And when I get some money from my sugar daddy, I’ll come back and get you.”

Cutie’s eyes lit up. “Can you tell sugar daddy to buy me a new phone like he promised?”

“Only if you good.” Melinda switched away without another word.

Cutie stomped toward the couch and Mooney closed and locked the door. The moment she sat down she dug in her coat pocket and pulled out her phone. Mooney quietly ambled toward the recliner by the window. Although Mooney was irritated, this was the most excitement she had in a long time. As she looked outside, she could feel Cutie’s eyes rolling over her, but she didn’t acknowledge her existence. Yesterday she spent two hours telling her part of a story she knew she had to hear the conclusion to ... even though it was a long ways coming.

After about thirty minutes of silence, Cutie said, “Why you ain’t got no TV in here? Dang! It’s boring as shit in your house.”

Mooney looked at Little Miss Rudeness and said, “Hello to you too.”

Cutie rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. You done got me in trouble, and now I gotta come over here. I was fine when I was watching myself.”

Mooney corrected her. “You got your own self in trouble by lying on your sister.” She looked out the window. “Hopefully one day you’ll learn to tell the truth.”

Cutie sighed. “That bitch is not my sister!” she said in a sassy tone. “I mean, the least you could do is tell me the rest of the story. Dang!”

“Is that your way of asking me to finish?” Cutie ignored her and played with her phone. “Before I do that, tell me what happened when you went home last night. With your foster sister.”

“What you think happened? She stayed out of my fucking way.”

“You didn’t apologize?”

“For fucking what?” she asked with her jaw hung. “It ain’t like she dead. We just performed
Stomp
on that ass.”

Mooney lit a cigarette and said, “Let’s make a deal: if you like the next part of the story, you have to apologize to her tonight. Cool?”

Cutie smirked and for the sake of boredom said, “Yeah ... okay.”

Mooney sat back in her seat and said, “Farah went through many stages before she changed into something so horrible, at first it was unbelievable. She had violent people in her life she looked to for love and acceptance, so it was inevitable the way things turned out.”

“What about that boyfriend Farah wanted? The one who was gonna be real strong and love her forever. I think you called him Superman! I mean, I know she had that other boy Park ... but I ain’t like him.”

Mooney was secretly pleased the girl knew their names, because it meant she was paying attention. “If you hear nothing else I say, hear this ... you will always attract a mate who personifies who you are. If you’re a gold-digger you gonna get a drug dealer who thinks he can buy you. If you hate yourself, you gonna get a nigga who will kick your ass every day and six times on Monday. And if you violent, you’re gonna attract a monster. It will always be true. All the time. No exceptions.”

Chapter 12

Seven Years Later

“I come from a family of murderers.”

—Farah

“Girl, if I show up dead tomorrow, Raping Randy did that shit!” Farah yelled into her cell phone as she maneuvered down an icy DC street in the silver Benz Randy bought her last year. The snowstorm was unmerciful and the window wipers did little to clear her view. Her eyes moved rapidly between the rearview mirror and the road ahead, as she struggled to get away from her crazed ex-boyfriend. “Oh, my God! He’s about to hit me again!”

Clank. Clank!

Randy’s black Escalade hit the back of her Benz twice, causing the bumper to droop a little. Farah’s car fishtailed but she was able to regain control. “I don’t wanna die, Coconut!” He showed no signs of letting up anytime soon and it was obvious that he either wanted her dead or at a massive standstill. When he was close enough, he hit her again and the bumper hung off a little more. “I’m scared.” She wiped the snot and tears off of her face with the back of her hand. “He’s gonna finally do it! I shoulda left his ass alone when I had the chance!”

“I thought you did! You know how crazy Randy is! That nigga not all together, Farah!” Coconut screamed into the phone. She wasn’t saying the right shit in Farah’s opinion. She needed encouragement and Coconut failed miserably. “And what happened to the restraining order you put on him?”

“I don’t know, bitch! Maybe he ate it!” Farah said sarcastically. “I just wish he’d leave me alone! I haven’t fucked him in, like, six months,” she lied. Although she told her best friend one story, she knew the truth was nowhere near it. When she was with Randy life was good, as long as he wasn’t roughing her up in the bedroom. It was because of that reason that she dumped him two years ago.

Before she ever dated Randy, Farah was starting to believe all her dreams were coming true. Coconut was officially her best friend and she was well liked in school. The only things missing in her life were the fact that the disease she hosted was still incapacitating at times, and she didn’t have in her life the strong, dark-skinned man who reminded her of Ashur. So when Randy approached her at the club on her eighteenth birthday, while she was celebrating with her friends, she couldn’t believe her luck. He was rich, powerful, and dark chocolate, all the things she thought she wanted. Before long Randy took her virginity, gave her everything she wanted in life, and then, when the time was right, showed her his darker side in the bedroom. Farah quickly realized she couldn’t handle it.

After she left Randy, she wasn’t single for long, because a few months later she ran into Zone Miller. He was a dark-skinned brother who had a passion for red bones with fat pink pussies and round asses. Farah fit the bill perfectly. It didn’t take him long to make her wifey and to lace her up in the finest gear. Stuff was going great between Farah and Zone, and she didn’t think life could get sweeter. Zone wasn’t as demanding as Randy in the bedroom; he didn’t need to beat her, choke her, or spit in her face to bust a nut. Instead he spoiled her rotten, flaunted her around the city, and put her up in Platinum Loft apartments: the flyest complex in her old stomping grounds. It was still smack dab in the middle of the hood, the place she lived all her life. DC was on the verge of a rejuvenation project, and if you didn’t have the cash to support the move, you would get moved out.

Every now and again, Randy would call when she was with Zone, but she never stepped outside of the relationship. Farah considered Randy a pest until Zone got locked up for being caught with a few ounces of cocaine. Suddenly Randy’s calls weren’t so worrisome anymore. She was willing to do anything to prevent moving back with Brownie, even if that meant giving Randy a little violent pussy from time to time. For the entire year while Zone was incarcerated, Randy laced her up and paid her rent. He even splurged and bought her a Benz, provided they could get down the way he liked it in the bedroom. Things went smooth until Zone was released from prison on a technicality.

Farah continued to fuck Randy on the low, until Zone started hearing things in the neighborhood. He immediately checked the situation, and demanded she straighten up or bounce. A few days ago, Farah decided to comply, after she got one last payday from Randy. This time the money wasn’t for designer shoes or purses. She was awful with money but she had plans to use this cash for a purpose. She needed $1,600 to give to Grand Mike, a holistic practitioner who could help her with her illness. She’d gotten the name from her cousin Cosmo, who was locked up for multiple homicides. However, Grand Mike was strict with his schedule, saying, “You miss the appointment, you miss your chance.”

Tears rolled down her face as she tried to reach her destination without him tailing her. Her nails dug into the steering wheel and she feared for her life.
Please don’t kill me,
she thought.
I don’t wanna die.

“Where you going anyway, Farah? I mean, maybe you should pull over and call the police.” Farah was so delirious that she forgot Coconut was on the phone.

“I can’t do that!” she screamed. “I got somewhere to be.”

“I sure hope wherever you gotta be is worth dying for, Coconut said. ’Cause if it was me, I’d have that nigga locked up with the quickness.”

“Bitch, you making shit worse! I’ll call you back!” Farah ended the call and threw her iPhone on the passenger seat.

Their relationship had changed drastically over the years because Farah was different. She was more outspoken and she’d formed a tougher layer inside and out. Her relationship with Brownie—after she smeared shit over her face, and after learning the coach was her biological father—changed her for the worse. She started avoiding Brownie most times, and Mia took over her motherly responsibilities. From the background Elise would do the best she could to instill values in Farah, but as the years rolled by, she was so far gone that her grandmother’s words bored her to death. It was Mia who she looked up to, and it was also Mia who toughened her up. Farah was no longer afraid of fighting, although she preferred not to because it brought out emotions. Farah’s motto was to keep your game face on, and protect your feelings at all times; that way nobody could hurt you. That one trait made her appealing to people because she was aloof. Although she changed, two things remained the same: she was still obsessed with her looks, and she was still obsessed with Coconut’s friendship.