RedBone (7 page)

“Oh, no!” Farah yelled under her hand. Since she was extra sensitive to everything, she feared the worst. “I’m gonna have to go back to the hospital again.”

“Don’t worry about all that! Just go!” Mia continued.

When they made it to their floor, they banged heavily on their grandmother’s door. Since she was under the hair dryer in her room, she didn’t know that her grandchildren were in danger, and fighting for their lives. “Let us in, Grandma!” Mia said, banging on the door with heavy fists. “Please!”

The fumes, getting the best of their bodies, caused them to fall to their knees and clench their stomachs. Farah started throwing up while the rest of them experienced migraine-like headaches. Farah tried her best to prevent any more fumes from going into her body, but the vapors effortlessly rolled into her nostrils, and waited for her to release her breath so they could attack her organs. When she did she panicked, and passed out cold on the grungy floor.

For the second time in less than thirty days, Farah was hospitalized and alone. She couldn’t imagine what Coconut thought about her and hoped she didn’t rescind the offer to be her friend. She was so inconsolable at the moment that she couldn’t write in her diary. Life was dark, and not worth living, and she hated being sick. Her desire to be well and have friends choked every moment of her day. She couldn’t wait to see her family and leave, so the moment she saw Shadow, Mia, and Chloe, she beamed. At least they always seemed to love her. In a strange way, the disease they shared was a reminder that she was part of the family after all.

“Damn, your face is destroyed!” Mia said. Farah had scars, sores, and blisters on every inch of her body. The rest of her siblings didn’t take a beating on their outward appearance.

“I look that bad?” She rubbed her face. “Please say no! I don’t wanna go back to school like this!”

“It’s not that bad,” Mia lied, looking at Shadow. “You ready to get the fuck out of here?” Mia asked Farah. ’Cause I know I am!”

Farah was starting to believe that if she didn’t have the illness, her social life would be way better. She was willing to do anything to be normal; she didn’t care what it was.

She grabbed her duffle bag that sat on the floor and put it on her bed. “So where’s Mamma and Daddy?” Her appearance was still on her mind.

“They on their way up the hallway,” Shadow said. “They were fighting again.”

“About what?”

“Daddy ain’t come home last night again,” Chloe said, adding her two cents. “I think he’s fucking mommy’s friend or something. That’s what I heard them talking about anyway.”

“Stop being fast, Chloe!” Mia said.

Chloe rolled her eyes and said, “Bitch, you not the boss of me.” She folded her arms over her chest but remained silent.

When a pretty black nurse walked into the room, Shadow tried to puff out his chest and appear cool as he leaned up against the wall. She moved right past him like he wasn’t in attendance. “Hello, Farah.” She smiled. “My name is Erica and I’m here to check your vitals before you leave.” As she checked her pulse, she couldn’t stop looking at her. “You are so pretty and I’m sorry your skin is so damaged right now. I’m sure the doctor can give you something, so make sure you ask him. As cute as you are, you gotta always make sure your appearance is on point. That’s all we got in life.”

“Beauty runs in our family,” Shadow added.

The nurse looked back at him and laughed. “This not your sister, boy. Stop playing.” She turned her attention back to the blood pressure cuff on Farah’s arm.

“Fuck that’s supposed to mean?”Shadow asked.

“Well ... it means she doesn’t look like she’s related to you.”

“Well, she is our sister!” Mia said.

“Y’all related for real?” She looked over all of them.

“Yes,” Farah said softly. “This is my family.” Farah wanted the nurse to leave because she caused enough problems as it was. Every time somebody pointed out their differences, she felt like her family members were given another reason to hate her.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the nurse said. “It just looks like you’re mixed, and they are so dark skinned that I assumed. . .”

“Are you finished?” Mia asked. “Because I feel like I’m about to unleash on your ass.”

“I’m done now.” The nurse removed the cuff.

“Then hurry up and get the fuck out of here before you get stomped.” Hearing the thunder in Mia’s voice, she gathered her things and made a speedy exit.

When they were alone Farah felt bad. “I’m sorry, y’all. I hate when people do that shit.” She looked at her scarred hands, which she was sure resembled her face. The nurse was right; she would have to do something to get her appearance in check. But what? Everything she used would only make it worse. She was beginning to feel very discouraged. “The nurse was just being dumb.”

“What you gotta be sorry for?” Shadow said. “You know how many times Mamma gets looked over because she so black?”

“Boy, you only listening to what she say,” Mia interjected. “Ain’t nobody looking over Mamma. If she think people are being rude, they gonna be rude.”

“Whatever, Mia. You and me both know that ain’t true, he said. “Farah ... you just need to be grateful you lighter, so start acting like it. I’m tired of having a pity party for you when it ain’t deserved.”

When Ashur and Brownie walked into the room Farah was relieved. It was the confirmation she needed that, for the moment, she was going home. “How you feel, RedBone?” Brownie asked. It was evident by the tone of her voice that she didn’t care. “Still in pain?”

“No. I’m kinda better.” Wanting affection she walked over to her and said, “Can I have a hug?”

“Girl, get you worrisome ass outta here. You in the hospital every other day now. Stop trying to get more attention.” Brownie walked away and looked out of the window, while Farah sat down and sulked.

Ashur wanted to smack the shit out of Brownie but he left it alone. Instead he looked at all of his children and said, “I don’t know why my kids gotta go through this shit!” It was obvious that he’d been drinking. “Them white people who got money would’ve been had medicine for this. And they keep telling my kids they got fucking allergies! I don’t believe nothing they tell me, Brownie!”

“I know, honey.” Brownie walked up to him and rubbed his back. They put aside the beef they had earlier for a greater cause—their children. “But a new doctor is coming today. Maybe he can tell us something.”

After waiting five more minutes, a white male doctor walked in, and automatically Ashur and Brownie were hopeful. Racist against their own people, they believed at first that they’d get better service because of his race. The badge on his doctor’s coat indicated that his name was Dr. Martin. He had a solemn look on his face that no one could read. His black-rimmed glasses seemed to set off his piercing blue eyes and his large nose. For the first time ever, Farah felt hope. “Hello, everyone, I’m Dr. Martin,” he said, walking up to Ashur and Brownie to shake their hands, “and if you don’t mind I’d like to talk to you about your children.”

Ashur didn’t know much about medicine, but he’d been in the streets long enough to know a rookie when he saw one. “How long you been practicing medicine?” Ashur asked with disdain in his voice.

“Not long. I’m an intern in my first year of residency.” He adjusted the glasses on his face.

Ashur looked at the ceiling, threw his arms in the air, and stomped over to the window. “I shoulda known the moment I saw a white doctor that he was an intern. They don’t give the black children no good white doctors. Just the ones that don’t know nothing, so they can be lab rats.”

“Sir, I am a good doctor.”

“I bet,” Ashur said sarcastically.

Dr. Martin was insulted but he was used to it by now. “I understand that you’re upset. I truly do,” he said. “But I might know what is really going on with your family.”

Brownie walked closer to him. “You do? Because me and my mamma got this shit too, even though the kids have it worse.”

“I think I know, but first I want to run some more tests. Tests I think might sum up everything you all are going through. I’ve seen the records. Farah in particular has been here one hundred days out of this year alone.” Farah knew it was a lot, but she was surprised at the number. “Her body is taking a toll but we need to be sure before we medicate.”

Brownie frowned. “Naw, doctor, I don’t feel like putting them through no more tests, only for you to come back and tell me they got allergies,” Brownie said. “So you can stick your funky test up your white ass and get out of my face. She looked at her kids and grabbed Farah’s bag. “Come on, y’all, let’s go home.”

Everyone marched to the door when Dr. Martin said, “Mrs. Cotton, I haven’t been practicing medicine for a long time, but I can assure you of one thing, and that is you and your family do not suffer from allergies. Give me a chance.”

Farah walked up to him, grabbed his hand, and said, “I’ll give you a chance. If you can help me.”

Chapter 6

“Chloe ... what the fuck are you doing? I’ma tell Ma!”

—Farah

Farah held the lime-lemon juice jug to her lips, stuck her pink tongue through the spout, and guzzled as much as she could in one breath. Stopping for only a moment, she did it three more times before realizing she drank half of her mother’s juice. If Brownie didn’t play one thing, it was someone fucking with her shit. Whenever she went to the market, and used her food stamps on the first of the month, she would warn her children against eating and drinking everything within the first few days. Her words always fell on deaf ears, and when the fridge was void of snacks, they’d often spend hours begging for hers, despite the answer always being no.

Noticing her white T-shirt was covered with three green drops from the jug, she knew she would have to cover her tracks before Brownie came home. Farah looked at the kitchen’s entrance, and when she was sure no one was coming, she turned the cold water on and placed the jug under the faucet. She filled it with water until she felt it was in the right place. A lighter green than it was before she got her paws on it, she put it back in the fridge.

When Farah was about to pass her grandmother, who was sitting on the couch soaking her feet, she was stopped. “What were you doing in that kitchen, child? You got a guilty look on your face, and a few green spots on your shirt. You wasn’t drinking your mother’s stuff now, were you?”

Farah choked back her guilt, covered the stains, and said, “No, I’m ’bout to see what Chloe doing.” She smiled. “I’ll be right back, Grandma.” Rushing away from her she opened the door to her room knowing she needed to change her shirt. Chloe was sitting on the bed, with her back facing the door. “What you doing, Chloe?” Chloe hopped up, and a tin can once used for cookies fell out of her lap and clanked to the wooden floor. Dried blood was smeared all over her outfit and she looked petrified. “What’s that red stuff?”

“Nothing ... why?” she asked, as if she’d been caught doing the devil’s work. “I was just playing with stuff.” She looked at the floor. “Leave me alone.”

Farah stepped farther into the room. “I sleep in here too.” When she was next to Chloe, she finally saw what was in the can, and she wanted to run. Chloe had severed the heads of two dead rats as if she were performing some type of sick surgery. “Chloe ... what the fuck are you doing? I’ma tell Ma!”

Chloe rushed up to her and said, “Shh ... Please don’t say nothing! I won’t do it again! I promise.” Farah looked down at the dead rodents, and felt something strange come over her. The feeling was so awkward that she backed up toward the door just to get away. And when she turned around, she ran into her mother. Chloe had her mind so fucked up that she didn’t hear her come inside the house.

Brownie was angry and it appeared to be directed at Farah. “What y’all in here doing now?” She looked at Chloe and then Farah. “I heard you all the way in the living room.” She went through the leather purse hanging from her shoulders.

“Nothing,” Farah said. “Just playing.”

“Well who the fuck drank my juice and put water in it?” Farah’s body started trembling. “I told y’all about drinking my shit, didn’t I?” Brownie removed a pack of cigarettes from her purse, lit one, and blew the smoke into the air. “Well ... which one of y’all touched my shit?” she asked, talking to them both but looking directly at Farah.

Farah was overcome with the dead rats and the fact that her mother was asking her if she drank her juice as if she already knew. If she told the truth, since her father wasn’t home, she was positive Brownie would do her harm, even though she could count on her hand the number of times she’d done it. Although she was never the subject of her violence, it didn’t matter. Brownie’s name rang bells in the streets and her crimes caused more stitches then fifty handmade quilts. “Mia did it. She was in here earlier and I saw her.”

Brownie didn’t believe her, but until she talked to Mia, she didn’t have proof. “I better not find out you’re lying! If I do, I’ma fuck you up!” Brownie pointed in her face. “Now clean up this room. I’ma take a bath and then prepare dinner.”

When she walked out, Farah turned around to face Chloe, who had already cleaned up the carnage on the floor. “Why did you do that? That’s so gross,” she whispered.

“I don’t know. I do it all the time. I guess I like it.” Chloe shrugged, walking toward the door with the can. “It’s not a big deal though. Relax.” She walked around her and out of the room.

Wondering how she could get out of the lie she told on Mia, Farah walked back to the living room. Once again Elise stopped her. “Come over here and sit next to me.” Farah walked slowly to her grandmother. Steam rose out of the pot Elise’s toes were soaking in, and carried with it a scent similar to corn chips. “Sit down on the couch.” Farah sat next to her. “Why did you lie to your mother just now?”

Farah looked at the TV and said, “I didn’t lie.”

“Farah, I saw the juice on your shirt,” she said softly. “Baby, you have to be careful how you act. Lying and hurting people is the wrong way to live. And you gonna have a tough life if you don’t recognize that now. I’m talking about total chaos all the time.” She touched her softly on the knee. “You’re learning a lot of lessons you shouldn’t be from your parents and I know it’s hard, but I’m still here for you.”