Skeletons (10 page)

21

Santana

M
ike’s eyes felt as if they were peering into my soul as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat during Sunday morning service at New Life Church of God In Christ where his father, Pastor Lewis Montgomery, was preaching a powerful sermon. Trying to ignore him and pretend that everything was normal I said a few “Amen” and “Thank you Jesus!” along with the rest of the congregation.

“Malik, sit still baby, grandpa is almost finished.” I instructed in a whisper to our son.

“But I have to pee.” He grumbled.

“Well you will have to wait; you know that you can’t get up during the sermon.” Mike responded sternly.

“Yes sir.” Our son pouted.

Mike’s father was a small man with a big voice and when he spoke he took control of the room. Mike and his father looked exactly alike with dark, curly hair, deep-set brown eyes that sat below thick perfectly arched eyebrows. The only thing that was different was that Mike was at least a six inches taller than his five foot-five father and since Mike worked out a lot he had a more athletic build than his stocky father.

Wiping the sweat off of his saturated brow Pastor continued, “In closing I want to read a passage from Revelation 20:12; and I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done.” Taking off his bifocals he closed his Bible and looked directly at the congregants, “Be careful of the skeletons which hide in your closets while you can hide them from your loved ones, you cannot hide them from God.” With that he ended the service.

After the sermon we walked up to Mike’s parents and embraced them. I loved Mike’s parents, they were such good and kind people and they raised Mike and his sister very well. I wished that my own parents were as loving as Mike’s, instead my mother and father were too wrapped up in their own lives to even call me every once in a while to see how I was doing.

“How are you son?” Pastor Lewis asked hugging Mike.

“We are doing good dad.” Mike lied, “That was a powerful sermon that you preached today.”

“Yes it was, yes it was; secrets can only be kept for so long until those skeletons start peeking their heads out of the closet.” He said in his deep voice.

I pretended to adjust my purse strap upon my shoulder.

“Grandpa, when did you need me to come by and put the plastic on the window?” Malik asked.

“You can come over right after you get changed this afternoon.” Mother answered. “You did a fantastic job on the basement Malik.”

“How have you been Santana?” Pastor asked.

“I’ve been good, I wanted to bring you and mother some of my chili that I made the other night, but I ran out of the house and forgot the container so I’ll bring you some when I drop Malik off this afternoon.”

My phone vibrated inside of my purse, glancing down at the screen I saw that it was from Tabitha. Instantly my body temperature rose and I felt a tingling sensation between my thighs.

I still taste your sweet pussy on my lips.

Smiling I put the phone back in my purse noticing that Mike was looking at me with an intense look on his face.

“That was another raunchy forward from Asteria; that girl is something else.” I lied and my husband didn’t buy what I was selling.

“Grandma can I come to your house with Malik today?” Mya asked as she held on to Mother’s hand.

“If that is alright with your parents.” Mother said looking directly at Mike who was too preoccupied with looking at me.

“Sure that is fine, she can come over just as long as she stays out of her brother’s way.” I answered.

A few church members stepped up to speak with the Pastor and First Lady, so Mike and I excused ourselves and walked outside to the car.

Still feeling the effects from last night, I fell asleep on the ride home while Mike and the kids talked about sports as usual.

I loved Mike, but I questioned if I was still in love with him. Things between us had gotten to be so predictable and dry that I often felt as if we were brother and sister rather than husband and wife. Mike use to entice and excite me, he use surprise me with breakfast in bed, candle light dinners and roses delivered to my office in the middle of the afternoon. Those things seemed liked years ago, now I barely get a card on my birthday or Mother’s Day. Last Christmas he gave me cash as if I were his damn niece instead of his wife. Tabitha brought excitement back into my life, with her I didn’t feel like Mike’s wife Santana; with Tabitha I felt like a new person, a person with passion, a person with desire and a person who was not predictable.

When we got home the kids went up to their rooms to change clothes so Mike could take them to his parent’s house. I went into the kitchen to make a snack for everyone, Mike followed.

“What did you really think about today’s sermon?” he questioned as he loosened his tie and threw it on the island.

“I thought that it was an interesting message that needed to be said.” I responded moving the tie from the island and placing it back in his hand. “Put this in the laundry room.”

“I agree there are some skeletons in people’s closets that just need to come out but when they do…well I’m sure that you know where I’m coming from.” He said then walked upstairs to change clothes.

Taking my phone out of my purse I read Tabitha’s message again then hit the delete button just in case Mike decided to snoop through my cellphone.

Mike came to bed that night and attempted to put his arms around me, what usually felt normal and comforting now felt annoying and wrong.

“Baby what is going on with you?” he asked, “I don’t want to fight, but you have been acting strange lately and I can’t help but think that you have another man in your life.”

Turning over on my back I fumed, “Mike you should know me better than that but if I did have another man you need to stop and ask yourself why it is that I chose to disrespect our marriage vows in the first place.”

“Baby I’m trying everything in my power to make you happy, but when you don’t communicate with me how do I know what is going on.”

“I do communicate with you, but a major part of the communication process is listening and I can’t help that you don’t do that very well.”

Mike let out a hurt sigh, “Now you insult me.”

Sitting up in our king sized sleigh bed, I looked at Mike in disbelief, “On one hand you want me to communicate and tell you what is wrong but as soon as I do that you get offended. That is exactly why this whole conversation is pointless.”

“How can something that can benefit our marriage be pointless Santana?” he asked with pleading eyes.

“Look I’m tired and we both have to work in the morning.” I gave up while rubbing my temples in frustration, “Let’s just get some sleep.” I turned my body away from him and pulled the covers up to my ears. I knew that Mike was hurt, but at this point it was time for me to do me, it was time for me to be selfish.

22

Jovanna

I
couldn’t breathe; my flailing arms were growing limp by every second that passed; I felt my eyes struggling to stay open, but that too was a fight that I was losing. Gasping for air, I fought my assailant to get loose, but I felt my life slipping away as my soul began to prepare itself for the next journey. Chad’s hands felt like vice grips around my neck, the uncaring look in his grey eyes was as emotionless as the blade that lay stuck in my back. I was dying a slow and painful death, in the background I could hear Justin’s pleading voice calling out for me by my name, Marquita.

Waking up from my nap I was drenched in sweat, my breaths were deep and jagged. Jumping up from the couch I ran into the bathroom and threw cold water on my face. Looking at my red, swollen eyes I could still feel his hands around my throat, choking the life out of me. I knew Chad, and I knew that he would not give up until I gave him what he wanted. I now regretted what happened the night that I thought I left my past behind me.

Wishing that I could take back my past, I knew that I had to make right what I did wrong over ten years ago, but in order to do that I would have to contact Chad and that was something that I was not prepared to do.

July 1999

The Memphis heat was sweltering; I grabbed my spray bottle and spritzed water on my face and body in an attempt to cool down. Even though it was well past midnight, the temperature was still in the mid nineties. Standing outside of the Centennial Inn on Shelby Street, my feet were starting to ache; I didn’t know what was taking Chad so long to get here, the job was over an hour and a half ago.

Chad had been acting really funny towards me since he found out about me taking G.E.D classes during the day.

Chad causally pulled up to the front of the motel as if he were on time, rolling my eyes I got inside of the candy-apple red Cadillac which was paid for with money earned on the backs of his women. The stench of the Don Diego cigar smoke filled my nostrils and lungs and I coughed.

“It took you long enough.” I fussed underneath my breath.

Not saying so much as hello, Chad held out his soft hands to accept the stack of fresh bills that I laid in his palm. Slamming ten, fresh twenty-dollar bills in his hands I folded my arms across my breast waiting as he counted every single bill as if I couldn’t be trusted. I knew better than to skim money off the top, I’d seen girls get beat down from trying to steal money from Chad.

Loving Chad came so easily when I was a wide-eyed seventeen-year- old, run-away who was looking for someone to love. My parents were too fucked up to give a care, both too strung out on crack to even know that I ran away. When he found me working at the Honey Lounge he was my escape from a place that I had to drink or smoke weed in order to get up on stage. He took me away from all of that, his words were so smooth that he drew me in and I never wanted to leave him. First he made love to my mind, then he made love to my body and I was in love with him.

Loving Chad came easily because he treated me better than any of the men that came to the Honey Pot; he even treated me better than my own parents. Chad was more than my pimp, he was more than my boyfriend, he was even more than my husband; Chad was like my father and he taught me the tricks of my trade like a child learned to ride the bike from her father. I hung on to his every word as if he was a God and I was his follower. Now that love that I felt for him was gone, replaced by hatred and disgust.

The smooth words that he used to say to get me to do whatever he wanted now I didn’t even listen when he talked. His touch was so loving and caring at one point, but now I couldn’t even stand the smell of him or his foul smelling cigars. As much as I hated Chad, I knew that he had a hold on me and unless I left him I would be stuck with him until I stopped earning him money. I knew that I had to get away from him.

Tasha was one of the girls that worked for Chad; we lived in a two bed-room apartment around the corner from him. Chad was so insecure in himself that he had to have complete control over every aspect of our lives. Not only where we lived, but also what we ate as he brought all of our groceries, what we wore as he took us shopping and every time we left the house as if we left the house without him knowing we would pay for it later. I was twenty-two and I felt sorry for Chad, he was a sad and pitiful excuse for a man and I couldn’t wait to leave him.

“I am tired of this shit Tasha!” I fussed right after Chad dropped me off that night.

Looking up from polishing her toes Tasha said, “What is going on?”

“Not only did this fat fuck of a trick spit his foul tasting come all on my face, but Chad took his sweet time picking me up tonight!”

“Be careful of what you say Marquita,” my friend warned as she looked towards Sunny and Lacy’s room, “You never know who will snitch.”

Sunny and Lacy were two of Chad’s other girls and they hated Tasha and me because we got the higher end clients and they looked for every chance they got to snitch on us.

Rolling my eyes I continued, “I don’t even care anymore Tasha, it’s not like Chad hasn’t kicked my ass enough already. To add insult to injury he won’t even let us see a dime of the money that we earn.”

Taking the wig off, I tossed it across the room, “I’m just tired of working my ass off and not having anything to show for it. Yet this slimy mother fucker walks around in five-hundred dollar suits, three-hundred dollar gators and one-hundred dollar hats! I swear if I could get my hands on that money that he keeps in his safe….”

Tasha quickly looked up at me and closed our bedroom door, “What money in what safe?” my usually loud-mouthed friend whispered.

“Chad keeps our money in a safe that is hidden in his closet at his house.”

“Have you seen it with your own eyes because I’ve never been inside of his apartment?”

At one point I was one of Chad’s personal girls so he would invite me to spend some time with him in his apartment so I knew where almost everything was.

“Yes I’d seen it with my own eyes girl,” I told my wide-eyed friend, “Every time a girl would pay him he would put the money in that safe. There has to be over ten-thousand dollars in there at one time.”

“Wow girl, we’d better stop talking about this before we get into some kind of trouble.” She said nervously.

In deep thought for the rest of the night, I showered then got in bed and I whispered to Tasha, “I’m going to get my money even if I have to step over that bastard’s dead body to get it.”