The Candy Shop (21 page)

Well, I wasn’t sure which one it was, but I saw I wasn’t getting anywhere with this ho, so this nigga is gonna tell me something.

“Eric,” I said, as I watched him climb into the driver side, “Ms. Kimberlie told me to ask you whether or not y’all were fucking.”

Annoyed by my tone and my words, Eric lashed out at me and said, “Why are you carrying on like this in front of Kimora? Do you have any decency?”

“Just answer my question!” I demanded.

But, it was obvious that he wanted to avoid answering my question, as she wanted him to; because after she closed the passenger side door and buckled her seat belt, she interjected and said, “Come on Eric, we’ve gotta go.”

So, he started up the ignition and put his car in reverse and I became enraged.

“So, you’re just gonna pull off with me standing right here?” I screamed at him.

“Faith, I’m sorry, but we’ve got to go,” he said.

“You’re gonna leave, just like that?” I continued, my voice screeching.

“Mommy, Mommy, please don’t fuss!” Kimora yelled to get my attention, as she began to cry.

“Now, see what you did?” Eric roared.

“Ahhh . . .Mommy, is so sorry, Kimora.”

But Eric stopped me right in my tracks by saying, “Just stay away from us.” And then he pressed down on the accelerator and backed all the around my car. So, I kicked the driver side door and yelled, “When the fuck are you going to let me spend time with my baby?”

“I’ll see you in court,” he yelled back and then he proceeded down the street.

I stood there with so much resentment and anger in my heart that I could’ve shot them both if I had my hands on a gun. I mean, how dare he just go on with his life, without even divorcing me?

And then on top of that, to keep me away from my only child is the most despicable thing he could do to me. But, I was gonna have my day. He’d see.

Papoose was awake watching television when I walked through the door. My heart sank as low as it would go when I saw the expression on his face. But, I tried to play it off by rushing over to him and giving him a hug.

“Miss me?” I asked in a cheerful mode.

“Get the fuck off me!” he demanded in a harsh way as he pushed me really hard.

To my surprise, I couldn’t catch my balance, so I landed on the floor. And just when I was about to ask him why the hell he pushed me, he hopped off the bed and headed toward me.

“Where the fuck you been at?” he asked me as he stood directly over top of me.

“I went to see my daughter,” I began to explain.

“Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want you to leave the room?” he continued as he slapped me dead in my face.

I grabbed the side of my face with both of my hands and looked at that bastard like he was fucking nuts. I was completely stunned by the way he was carrying on. He was acting like I’d betrayed him or something, which was not the case at all. So, I had to let him know how I was feeling.

“Look, I know you told me not to leave the room, but I’ve been missing my daughter and I needed to see her. But, not only that, I’m a grown woman and here you are, standing over top of me, trying to chastise me like I’m your child, which isn’t right.”

“Do you think I give a fuck about that?”

“I don’t expect you to, but you need to keep your hands to yourself.”

“Whatcha say, bitch!” he uttered and grabbed a handful of my hair and snatched me off the floor.

I didn’t know if I was coming or going. But, I will say, that fucking maniac was crazy! I mean, what was it with him not being able to keep his hands to himself? And why did he like making women suffer? Well, whatever it was, I had to put a stop to it. As he lifted me to my feet by my hair, I felt large chunks of hair loosening from my scalp, and I wasn’t happy at all. And from that point, I made it known.

“Papoose, you’re pulling out my hair!” I yelled to the top of my voice as I tried to pry his fingers from around a chunk of my hair.

“Bitch, don’t touch me!” he demanded, clutching my hair tighter.

And when he did that, he triggered my reflexes, so I lunged back and hit him in his face with my fist as hard as I could.

“Let my motherfucking hair go!” I screamed.

Feeling the sting from my blow, Papoose reacted violently and threw me onto the bed and jumped straight on top of me and started punching me in my face.

“You think you can beat me, huh?” he shouted as the blows from his fists got more intense.

“Nah, I don’t think I can beat you,” I said in a convincing manner as I tried desperately to block half of the punches he was lunging at me.

“Oh, yes you do, bitch!” he replied as he continued beating me.

“No, I don’t!” I screamed louder, still blocking his fists from causing more damage.

“Shut the fuck up!” he demanded as he tried to muffle my face with a pillow. “Whatcha trying to do, let somebody hear you?”

Struggling to breathe properly from Papoose’s weight bearing down into the pillow, I couldn’t do anything but act hysterically. A few times I was able to catch my breath, but it wasn’t long before I was being suffocated again.

“Papoose, I’m sorry!” I cried out, my voice barely audible.

And just as expected, he didn’t hear me. Or was it more or less the fact that he was in control and his adrenaline was pumping very rapidly, so he wasn’t able to stop his actions. Whatever it was, the taunting and the beating continued for another couple of minutes or so; but to me, it seemed like forever.

When he finally let me come up for air, all I could do was lie there and cry. Replaying everything that happened to me this morning thus far was beginning to weigh me down. It wasn’t enough that I had to see my husband with another woman and have him humiliate me and hear him tell me that it was basically over between us and that he’d see me in court. Then I had to come back to the hotel and get the shit beat out of me because I wanted to leave for a while. It was more than I could take. So, I began to ask myself, What did I do to deserve all of this? And when I tried to rationalize the whole situation, all I could think about was Teresa saying she told me so. And guess what? She was right.

But, what was so weird about it was that I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. This nigga I was fucking with was a possessive bastard. And to deal with him, you had to do everything he told you or else. And see, that wasn’t the way I wanted to live my life.

But then I thought about it. What other options did I have? He was providing me with a place to stay, feeding me, and making sure I stayed off heroin. So, what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go back to Teresa’s place; she could be getting evicted any day now. And who do you know that wants to live on the streets? Not me, so I needed to play my cards right and ride that boat as long as I could. I mean, all I had to do is stay in the room and do what he told me and if I did that, I shouldn’t have to go through one of those episodes again.

And besides, when I thought about it, he did seem to care enough about me to want to keep me in check. I mean, why else would he get so mad and beat me up like he did? He hadn’t acted out like that before, so maybe he had all the reason in the world to do what he just did. Now, it was my duty to make sure I stayed on my best behavior and did what he said until I came up with a better solution, since I wasn’t not allowed to go back home.

After everything calmed down, Papoose made a few snide remarks to me about how he’d kill me the next time, but I brushed it off as if I didn’t hear him.

Moments after he had gotten dressed, he snatched up my car keys from the dresser top and walked out of the room. He didn’t say goodbye or anything. So, I figured he was going to use this time to calm down and that he would be all right when he returned.

But little did I know, his trip on the outside was going to be short-lived. I was in the bathroom, nursing my scratches and bruises for about ten minutes when he decided he wanted to damn near tear the door down. The shit scared the hell out of me.

“Yo, do you know I almost popped dis cracker in the head a few minutes ago!” he started off, breathing all out of control.

“What happened?” I asked him, holding a damp wash cloth up to my mouth.

“Yo, don’t act stupid! You know what’s going on?”

“What are you talking about?” I continued as my heart started beating out of control once more. The signs of another ass whipping seemed like they were drawing near.

“Why didn’t you tell me the repo man was looking for your shit?”

Somewhat relieved by the fact that he wasn’t referring to the situation concerning the warrant Teresa had taken out on him, I exhaled and conjured up a lie, “Because my husband said he was going to take care of it.”

“Well, he didn’t. And now your shit is being towed away.”

Not knowing what to say next, I just stood there and looked dumbfounded. But, that wasn’t the reaction he was looking for, so he said, “Why you just standing there? You better do something.”

“Do what?” I asked.

“You better get on that phone and call your husband and see if he can get your joint back.”

“We got into an argument this morning, so he’s not gonna want to talk to me.”

Papoose sighed heavily as he walked over to the table to have a seat. And after he threw the keys down, he said, “So, whatcha gon’ do?”

I walked out of the bathroom to look him in his face and that’s when I asked him, “What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about how you gon’ get your whip back?”

“I don’t know.”

“How much do you owe?”

“A little over fifteen hundred.”

“Fifteen hundred!” Papoose screamed. “Shit! How much is your car payments?”

“Almost five hundred each. But, that’s not including the late fees.”

“Oh well, you’re fucked up, Shorty!” he told me and pulled his cellular phone from his pocket.

Ten seconds later he was on the phone with one of his homeboys, telling them what had just happened and that he needed them to come and pick him up. He laughed a bit with whomever he was talking to and it seemed like as soon as he got off of the phone, his whole demeanor had changed again.

“I hope you got somewhere to go, ’cause when my peoples get here, I ain’t coming back.”

Shocked by his comment, I said, “Whatcha mean, you ain’t coming back?”

“Come on now, you ain’t that stupid!” he replied as he got up from the chair and started packing up his things.

“Oh, so now you have no more need for me because I don’t have my car anymore?”

“Damn, you catch on quick,” he told me and continued to gather up his things.

“That’s kind of fucked up, don’t cha think?”

“Look Faith, you’re a a’ight chick. But, this shit here I’m doing ain’t personal. It’s business.”

“Whatcha mean, it’s business?”

“Come on now, you ain’t slow. I mean, do you think I would’ve taken you off the street ’cause you got a phat ass and I wanted to fuck you?”

“No, but I thought you did it because you wanted to be with me.”

“Nah, Shorty, I don’t roll like that. I brought you to this room and put you up, ’cause you had some shit to bring to the table.”

“Oh, so it was all about my car, huh?”

“You damn right. And quiet as it’s kept, I didn’t keep that safe locked ’cause I had my dough in there either. I kept it locked because my dope was in there, and that’s why I ain’t never want you to leave the room.”

“So, you mean to tell me that if the police would’ve ran up in here while you were out in the streets, I could’ve caught a drug charge behind your shit?”

“What, you think I would’ve told dem the shit was mine?” he replied and laughed.

“Oh, so you would’ve just let them take me to jail, huh?”

“Yo, Shorty, don’t take it personal. That’s just how the game is played,” he advised me and then he went back to packing up this stuff.

After he piled all his things into a bag, he stuck it by the front door. And soon thereafter, one of his homeboys had arrived. So, as he was about to leave, I said, “Think I can get a ride to my girlfriend’s house?”

Papoose looked back at me and said, “We ain’t got enough room for you in the car.”

“So, you’re just gonna leave me here?” I asked him in a frustrated manner.

“Yeah,” he responded and then he looked down at his watch and said, “It’s ten o’clock now. So, you got about two more hours to call somebody to come and get you before check-out time.”

“But, I don’t know who I can call.”

“Call a cab.”

“Are you gonna give me the money to pay for it?”

“Hell nah! What, you think I’m some cornball-ass nigga?”

“No. But, I just thought you would do me that favor.”

“Well, I don’t do favors, Shorty!”

“I’ll pay for your cab if you suck my dick!” the other guy interjected.

“Nah, cuz, you’ll be better off fucking her in dat phat ass she’s got! ’Cause boy, that joint will make your dick swell up like yeast when you start digging in it.”

“Oh, that shit’s good like dat?”

“Damn right! And it’s tight, too.”

“Ahhh . . . damn, Shorty, you think I can hit dat joint real quick?” the other guy asked.

Instead of answering his friend’s question, I looked over at Papoose, who was standing by the door, and said, “Oh so, you’re just gonna trade me off, huh?”

“Shit! You ain’t my bitch!” he so blatantly replied.

“You know what? You are one foul-ass nigga!” I told him.

“Yeah, I know. Bitches tell me that shit all the time!” he said, laughing. “But, it ain’t about me right now. ’Cause my homeboy right here is trying to holler at you. So, let ’im know whatcha gon’ do,” he continued.

“I’ll do it if he’ll pay for me to stay here for the next couple of nights.”

“Shit! Hell nah!” the guy said, “I ain’t coming off wit’ that much dough. The most you’ll get from me is ten dollars.”

Appalled by his comment, I said, “Ten dollars!”

“Damn right!” the guy continued. “And I usually don’t give up that, since I got a whole bunch of freaks I can fuck for free.”

“Well, I’m not about to suck his dick or let him fuck me in my ass for ten dollars. So, I guess the answer is no.”

“A’ight, Shorty, well, you take care,” the guy said and walked out the door.