Salty: A Ghetto Soap Opera (Drama In The Hood) (17 page)

"You did fuck him?" Calvin said in disbelief.

He thought he saw her sucking his dick when he was being carried out the room, but he was not for certain. Now he was not only sure that she did suck it, but she fucked him. That wasn't part of the plan.

The next day Pam and Calvin went to the doctor. She was diagnosed with herpes on the spot. Seven days later, her test results came back and she tested positive for HIV. She and Calvin never told anyone. Calvin felt so guilty. He told her not to fuck him. He didn't think she loved him that much, but she did. He loved her too. They loved each other, but will that change when Pam finds out the truth?
The sounds of her ringing cell phone brought Pam out of her trance. Pam looked at her cell and smiled. It was the pastor.

"Hi." She answered.

 
"Hey there."  He responded.

His voice was so deep and sexy. It fit him perfect. Pastor Ron is 50 years old, but don't look a day over thirty. He is dark skin, medium build, with nice arms and abs. He wears a low cut and has a goatee . He is what you call, a man. A sexy one at that. She met him one day when he came to see Jazz perform.

"How are you, baby girl?"      

Pam couldn't believe she was blushing off of a hi, how are you, baby girl. She wondered what she would do if the man touched and kissed her.

"I'm fine. Now that you called."

He chuckled a little bit.

"That's good to hear. I called to invite you to breakfast tomorrow morning."              

 
"I would love to." She said.    

 
"That's great. I have a meeting. I will call you later if it’s not too late."

"K!"

He said good bye first, and then Pam. When Pam hung up with the Pastor, she had a smile on her face that could light the darkest alley. She was no longer thinking about her illness.  Her pastor friend told her, if
Satan can steal your joy, then he has you right where he wants you.
That’s what he was trying to do, get Pam where he wanted her: back to being insecure, and unhappy with her life. That's why when her past tried to tell her that there was no hope for a better future, she would rebuke it in the name of Jesus.  She walked over to her sister’s dresser, looked in the mirror, smiled and said, “I am somebody. I am a child of God. I will not allow no one or nothing make me doubt that God loves me.” That was something else she learned from her pastor friend. It seemed as if the man always knew what she was thinking, or feeling. She wished she would have met him fifteen years ago.  She glanced down at the dresser and shook her head at the five different pill bottles. She wasn't a saint herself, she did the coke from time to time, but she didn't think she was an addict like her sister. Pam admired the dark red and pink colors on the Bible that sat on the dresser. Woman, Thou Art Loosed, by TD Jakes; Pam was impressed. She did not have a clue that her sister even knew what a Bible was. Pam picked it up, and opened it.  Pam smirked at what it said on the dedication page
: To the daughter I never had from Mrs. Lewis
. Calvin's mother gave her the Bible. Pam flipped through the pages. She noticed a small white envelop; she knew that CRC stamp anywhere. It was prison mail. She picked up the envelope. It was addressed to her sister from her husband.
What the hell he writing her for?

Pam opened the letter and what she read caused her to burst into tears.
How could she, how could they? Oh my God!

Part 5

Chapter 13

“
Jazz”

Three days after Peter was released from the hospital, he had to appear in Inglewood court. The hospital staff reported to the Inglewood Police Department that the accident was caused by him being under the influence. They said his alcohol level was way over the approved amount for a person operating a vehicle. The fact that his life was in danger did not matter. All they were focused on was him drinking and driving. Prejudice, if you ask me.  Peter was going to fight it, but his attorney told him that it was best that he take a deal, which is six months house arrest, licensed suspended for a year and one hell of a fine. If he would have taken it to trial, he would have had to serve a year in the county, plus the above; if he lost. He asked me what he should do; I told him to take the deal too. If he lost, he would be in a cell with two broken legs; at least being out he would be more comfortable with the cast and still have his freedom in the comfort of his own home.

“
I may as well go to jail. At least I will have some help.” Peter whined.

“
Not the help you need. Those people won’t give you the proper care you need. It’s dirty and everything in there. And what you mean, at least you will have help? Haven't I been by your side since day one? You know me and Ken got your back.” I explained. He smiled. He acted like that was the main reason he did not try to fight it in trial.  I did not mind stepping in and supporting him emotionally, and helping out when his nurse wasn't around. I care for Peter. But the more I was around Peter, the more I realized he was no longer the man that I wanted to spend my life with. I loved Peter, but more in a friend kind of love. I wanted and needed Diesel. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry for the way that I acted at the game, and that Peter was just a friend that I was helping out. I wanted to let him know that he was the one I wanted, not Peter. But, yeah right. He would not understand that I was practically staying at Peter’s house because Ken was out of town and he had no one else to help him. He wouldn’t understand that I would sometimes make runs for Peter because he couldn't drive, and that the only reason why I was doing it is to help him keep his clientele. At least I was getting paid for it; right?

It’s about to go down…………

Malibu, CA

When Jazz arrived at the Malibu beach-front home of Arizona draft pick, M.J. Sanders, she was a little excited. She may not be a fan of football, and did not know what he looked like, but the fact that he was a celebrity sent butterflies through her stomach. She cut the engine, took the keys out, and reached over to unlock the glove compartment. She grabbed the Ziploc bag that was filled with X pills and placed it in her Dior bag. She closed the glove compartment back. This time, she did not lock it. She sat up in her seat, cut the dome light on for light in the car and adjusted the rearview mirror.  Jazz went in her purse and pulled out her compact and lip gloss. Looking in the rearview mirror, she touched up her make-up. When she was done, she put the make-up back in her purse and pulled out her Tommy Girl perfume. She sprayed a little behind each ear and some in her hair. She was now ready to go handle business. She got out of Peter's 745, hit the alarm and walked to the door. She never noticed the masked gunman sitting in the car behind her. 

Ding dong ....was the sound of the doorbell. Jazz smiled at the guy that answered the door.

He was a short, stocky, dark skin guy with waves and a nice smile. If he wasn't Sander's, she was sure he was a ball player.

"Hello, I'm Jazz. I got that West Coast Fire."  She said nervously.

The dude smiled and looked behind him. He grabbed her by her arm to escort her in the house. They got it turned up, Jazz thought, looking at everybody enjoying themselves. There were people smoking weed,

taking shots, playing cards, and dancing; everyone was having a good time.

"That West Coast Fire is in the building. “The guy that answered the door announced. Damn, like that? She thought. The nigga is a straight pill-head.  The dude then whispered in Jazz’s ear. "This fool crazy”, she thought. She reached up and touched his shoulders. He leaned his head down so she could say what she had to say.

 "I'm not the stripper. I came to deliver that West Coast Fire." Is Denzel here? Denzel, he repeated and scrunched up his eyebrows. Then he remembered; she must be talking about Diesel.  Jazz was asked to ask for a Denzel or another person, but she forgot his name.

“
Oh, I know who you are talking about.” he said.

He took Jazz by the hand and walked her toward a crowd of dudes that where making a bunch of wolf sounds. The guy pulled her through the crowded hallway, and that’s when she saw him, that’s when she saw them. The white girl, Savanna, was butt naked dancing on a guy who looked identical to the guy that answered the door. And then there was the biracial Justin Timberlake look alike, pouring champagne on a naked light skin tramp’s ass cheeks and licking it off. Jazz was in shock. It really did not bother her to see the white girl, but  seeing  Diesel and Yay-Yay put on a freak show, was not was she expected or wanted to see. The dude that answered the door went over to Diesel and told him what was up.

Chapter 14

When Diesel looked up and saw Jazz standing there staring at him in shock, he felt bad. He pushed Delicious out of the way, got up off his knees and made his way to Jazz. "Hey." He said, while trying to grab her hand, but she snatched away. "You are no different than the rest of them." She said. "Let me talk to you." Diesel made another attempt to grab her hand and again she snatched away. He looked into her eyes. Her eyes said that I thought you were different. Her eyes said that you are pathetic. Her eyes said that she refused to allow her tear drops to fall. He wanted to hold her and tell her that he was sorry. That it was not what it looked like, and that he was just having some fun to get her off his mind. The tension was so thick between the two you could cut it with a knife. To everyone that was looking, it was obvious that the two shared chemistry.

"What's up D?" The guy that answered the door said. "You going to get it or what?" He asked.

"Get what?" An aggravated D asked.

"That West Coast Fire? She delivering it." He said, pointing at Jazz.

D looked at Jazz. He was pissed off. He couldn't believe that he had been played again. Here he was feeling bad about what she just witnessed and she risking her life for another nigga. For the same nigga that she went off on him about and left him at the Staple game because he did not give a damn if her ex lived or died.  He felt like a sucka. He allowed his heart to give love another try just for her. He spent money on her. He took her out to the finest restaurants and splurged on her one Saturday at the Grove. He shared things with her that he never shared with his sister or mother because he did not want them to view him as weak. Yeah, it had only been three weeks but D knew his heart, he was in love with a seventeen year old.  D went in his pocket, and pulled out a few big faces; as he was handing her the money, he asked, "You got the pills?"  Jazz’s hands shook as she went in her bag to pull out the pills. She knew D was upset and she was ashamed about the foolish act that he found out about. When she pulled out the bag of pills, D wanted to call her stupid and slap her ass across the room.  Without looking at D, she passed him the bag. He gave it to his homey. D didn't pop; he purchased the product as a treat for the guest that came out.  During this time White-Girl and Delicious was getting an eye full. White-Girl wasn't tripping off the fact that she knew D; felt something for the little girl. She had one thing and one thing only on her mind: a come up. Yay, on the other hand, was pissed off when she saw Jazz and D make the exchange. She was about to go let them know just how pissed she was.  When Yay walked up, Jazz could have killed her with her gaze. That wench knew who D was; they discussed him when Yay came to see P at the hospital. She knew that D was Laurie's brother.  She also knew that he was looking to be drafted real soon. That's all she cared about when Jazz told her that she gave D her virginity. When Jazz told her cousin about the time she had been spending with D, Yay acted as if she was happy. Jazz couldn't see it then, but was sure of it now, that the chick is mad because she is her and she is who she is: a salty, grimy, envious ghetto bitch.

"Oh, so you working for Peter now? Yay-Yay said to Jazz.

With a frown on her face, Jazz looked her naked cousin up and down. and responded with a slap to Yay-Yay’ jaw.
Yay held her face in shock.

"Fuck you." Jazz said.

Finally registering in Yay’s brain what just happened, she swung on Jazz. Jazz ducked and came back up and went to hit her with a quick left, but missed. D  grabbed Yay and the guy that answered the door grabbed Jazz, picked her up and escorted her out the house to her car.  Jazz could hear Yay screaming and cursing at D to let her go. She didn't want none.

The dude did not put Jazz down until the two of them made it out the front door.

“
You are too pretty to be fighting.”