The First Lady (18 page)

By the time we were on the last round of Bingo, I still hadn’t won anything, and I had yet to see the bishop, so it was not a good night. I was playing eight cards at a time and had wasted somewhere in the neighborhood of $120. I’d never come to Bingo without winning at least one game to get my money back. Usually I was one of the luckiest people in the room. People were always getting mad because I’d win so often at Bingo and the church raffles. Over the last three years, I’d won three TVs and a computer. So I wasn’t used to losing. What made it even worse was that the bishop’s secretary, Sister Alison, and her overly handsome, wheelchair-bound husband, Trustee Brent, sitting next to me, had won five Bingos between them, and they were using only one card each.

“You and the trustee sure got the Lord on your side today, Sister Alison,” I said enviously when she returned to the table from a trip to the ladies’ room.

“Yes, ma’am, Sister Monique. He sure has blessed us today.”

“He sure has.”

“Where have you been, Sister Monique? I haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

“I was out of town. My mom had an operation, and I went down to Mississippi to help her out. Truth is, Sister Alison, I needed to get away and recharge my battery, if you know what I mean.”

“I sure do.” She glanced at her husband. He may have been in a wheelchair, but you could tell she sure did love him.

I looked around, as I had been doing all night, hoping to spot the bishop. He usually stopped by Bingo if only just to say hello to the congregation. I decided to leave a note on his car when this card was finished. It was time to make sure he understood that Sister Monique was back in town and that our last time in bed wasn’t just a fluke. If I had my way, it would become an everyday occurrence.

“Have you seen the bishop this evening, Sister Alison?”

“No, I haven’t, but he’s probably somewhere around here with Sister Lisa Mae.”

I whipped my head around toward her. She noticed the severity of my action, so I tried to tone it down by asking nonchalantly, “Why would he be with her?”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what? I’ve been out of town for a couple of weeks, remember.”

Sister Alison looked around, then leaned her large frame close to me so her husband couldn’t hear her gossiping. “Girl, the bishop and Sister Lisa Mae are an item.”

“Shut up. No, they’re not.” My voice was low so as to not attract attention, but I was fuming. Either Sister Alison was a damn liar, or Sister Lisa Mae had swooped in and picked up my prize while I was away. Now that would put me in the middle of the biggest losing streak of my life. I was not used to setting my sights on a man and
not
getting him, especially after I’d already shown him my considerable talents in the bedroom.

“No, I’m not lying. Them two been walking around here holding hands like they Luke and Laura from the stories. I think we done found the new first lady.”

I wanted to slap her for saying that with a smile on her face. My stomach felt as if a lead ball had been dropped in it. The bishop and Sister Lisa Mae? This couldn’t be happening. The bishop wanted me. He said it that night. He told me he cared. And the way he made love to me before I left … A man doesn’t make love to a woman like that unless he wants to be with her.

I was about to get up to see if the bishop was in his office when Alison jumped up in the air. “Bingo!” she yelled. Not only was she the deliverer of bad news, but that woman had just hit the five-hundred-dollar jackpot that I was only one number away from winning. As Alison ran to the front to collect her winnings, I packed up my stuff and headed for the door.

“Sister Monique … Sister Monique,” Michael, the young man who’d sold us the Bingo cards, called. “Somebody left this at my table for you.” He handed me an envelope that looked exactly like the one that had been taped to my door.

“Who left this for me?” I asked, looking around to see if anyone in the room was watching us. Someone in the room had to be delivering the first lady’s letters. But if it were, that person wasn’t giving himself away. Not a soul was looking in my direction.

“I don’t know who left it. I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, there was a note that said to give this to you.”

“All right. Thank you, Michael.” I stuffed the letter into my purse and continued out of the church. I was anxious to know what the first lady had to say this time, but I’d be damned if I would read it in front of whoever left it for me.

I woke up one morning a little more than a month after Aubrey left and decided this was the day I would get clean—but after I find ten dollars to get one last blast to start my day off right. But when I looked around my apartment, I realized I’d already sold everything of value. Other than my bed, the only thing I had left was my phone, and I couldn’t get anything for that. So, there were only two possibilities: I could go out and do a few tricks, or I could call Tanisha and see if she’d lend me a few dollars.

I picked up the phone and dialed *67 to block my number, since I suspected she might not answer if she saw it was me. The call didn’t connect right away, so I said a quick prayer that I still had long-distance service. I relaxed just a bit when I heard the call go through.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Tanisha, what’s up? It’s Momma.”

“Momma, whatchu want?” That girl had some real attitude in her voice.

“What do you mean what I want? I called to see what you were doing and to check up on my son. He is still my son, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Momma, he’s still your son. But Aubrey’s at school right now. And I’m about to go to class myself.”

“So he’s doing good?”

“Yeah, Momma, he’s doing fine.” Her voice was flat. “Look, Momma, I’ve gotta go.”

“Hold up, Tanisha. I wanna ask you something.”

“Oh, Lord. What?”

“Can you send me some money? I just need about fifty dollars. I ain’t got no food, girl.”

She was quiet for a while. I listened to her breathing, but I didn’t say anything. Best not to piss her off when I needed her right now. When she answered, though, it was clear I had already made her mad.

“You know I’m not sending you any money. Are you crazy? What happened to that fifty dollars I sent you two weeks ago? I bet you smoked it up.”

“I didn’t smoke nothing. I’m clean now,” I pleaded.

“Oh, my gosh. Stop lying, Momma. You know what? I gotta go. Bye.”

“Tanisha, please, baby, don’t hang up. I really am trying to get clean. I just need a little help.”

“Momma, we’ve been down this road too many times before. You know I can’t help you. The only person who can help you is yourself. Now why don’t you go take yourself down to detox? If you can stay down there for a week, then I’ll come get you. Me and Dante will pay to help put you in a program.”

“I ain’t going to no damn detox! I told you I’m clean. I just need fifty dollars to get some food!” I screamed, no longer worried about what Tanisha thought. “Now stop playing games and send me some damn money.”

My daughter’s answer was a dial tone. And when I tried to call back, I got her machine. At that point, I knew there was no reason to leave a message, so I hung up the phone.

I walked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face, but when I looked in the mirror, I had to turn away. I looked so bad, it made me cry. And when I say bad, I mean real bad. My hair hadn’t been combed in at least two weeks. My skin was breaking out, and I’d lost at least thirty pounds in the past two months.

Still, I had to do what I had to do to get some money. I dried my tears and went into my bedroom to find what was left of my makeup. I tried to fix myself up, but to be honest, when I finished, I looked something like a sick clown.

“Ah, what the fuck? Those dumb tricks will probably think I look good.” I headed out the door and down the block, then stood at the corner of Guy Brewer Boulevard and 111th, trying to look cute so someone would pick me up. Attracting tricks was always harder in the daytime than at night. After dark, the dirty old men drove around, looking for the blow jobs their wives wouldn’t give them.

After an hour and a half of standing on that damn corner, and after practically scratching my skin off, I finally gave up. Time to try another angle. I walked up to 109th, where Reggie was standing with his friends.

“What’s up, Reggie?” I started to pace around in a circle, continually scratching my arms.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“I was hoping big man might want me to suck his dick for ‘im,” I said, trying to sound enticing. “You know, kinda start his day off right.”

The big man looked me up and down with pure disgust. “You really fell off, you know that? I used to think you was kinda fine for a crackhead,” he said. “But now I wouldn’t let you suck my dog’s dick.”

Everybody on the block started to laugh. There was a time I would’ve been embarrassed by something like that, but right now all I wanted was a hit. I didn’t have time to be embarrassed.

“Hold up, Black. That’s a good idea,” Reggie said with a laugh. “Yo, go get Big Al for me.”

The big man looked at him for a second, then a big smile spread across his fat face. “Yeeaahhhh,” he said, and headed for the car.

“Don’t worry, Ma. We gon’ hook you up in a second,” Reggie said.

A few minutes later, the big man came back with a tan-and-white pit bull that looked to be on steroids. Reggie patted the dog’s head, and it started to pant and wag its tail. Then Big Al rolled over on his back so Reggie could rub his belly.

“Hey, y’all, check this out. I read this shit in a book,” Reggie announced to the small crowd. Then he looked up at me, stuck his hand in his pocket, and came out with two nickel bags. I started sweating in anticipation of the rush I’d soon be feeling.

“You want this shit?”

“Hell yeah.” I nodded my head.

“Aw’ight, then,” Reggie said with an evil glint in his eyes. “You can get it, but you got to take care of my dog.”

I heard what he was saying, but I didn’t move. My stomach jumped. I almost vomited at the thought. I should have turned and ran, but the damn craving for some rock was much stronger than my dignity at that point. I convinced myself that Reggie was just showing off for his boys. He wouldn’t actually make me do anything with his dog … would he?

“You joking, right? You don’t want me to do that, Reggie. Come on, Re—”

Reggie cut his eyes at me angrily. “Do I look like I’m joking, bitch? You wanna get high, don’t you?”

By now we were surrounded by at least ten people, and they were all laughing. All the attention was just hyping Reggie up. “So, what’s up? I ain’t got all day, and neither does he.” He pointed at the dog. “Now, get on your knees and suck my dog’s dick.”

I’ve done a lot of fucked-up things in my life—stole from my kids, stole from friends, and allowed men to disrespect me in so many different ways, I don’t even want to think about it. But I’d never done anything like this to an animal. Had I really sunk so low that I might go through with it? Did I need the hit that bad?

Somebody pushed me from the back. “C’mon, bitch. Suck it.” I looked up at Reggie, who was smoking a blunt and waving the two nickels near my face, taunting me.

I had a momentary vision of me snatching the nickels out of his hand and running down the street. It almost seemed like a good idea, until I realized there was no way I could outrun this crowd of Reggie’s boys. No, that would only amount to a beat down. But what was worse—getting a beat down or degrading myself in front of all these people by sucking a dog’s dick? Shit, I thought, at least if I suck off the dog, I’ll get the drugs. If I get a beat down, all I’ll get is a bruised-up body and no crack to make the pain go away.

Slowly, I lowered myself to my knees, cringing as I listened to the crowd’s growing excitement. The dog was so calm, I thought he might know what I was about to do. Maybe I wasn’t the first addict Reggie and his boys had done this to. I reached out cautiously, rubbing the dog’s belly the same way Reggie had. To my surprise, the dog wagged his tail as if he liked it.

Well, at least he’s friendly, I thought, trying to prepare myself mentally to go through with this. Come on, Marlene, you can do it. It’s only a dick. You’ve sucked plenty of dicks in your day.

I took a deep breath and lowered my head, staring at the dog’s penis. By now, half the block was surrounding us, and there was a chorus chanting, “Suck, suck it, suck it!”

Suddenly, something inside me just snapped. I had talked so many times before about wanting to get clean. I had lied to my kids, to Thomas Kelly, and to myself, promising that each time I smoked would be the last. But here on my knees in front of half the neighborhood, listening to them practically beg me to degrade myself as low as humanly possible, I finally realized that getting high just wasn’t worth it. I was done disrespecting myself.

I stood up and dusted off my knees.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Reggie sounded frantic. I had fucked up his show, I suppose. He waved the two nickels in my face, still thinking he was in control. “You want this shit, don’t you?”

I shook my head. “Naw, I don’t. Not anymore.” I threw my shoulders back and walked away, holding on to whatever shred of dignity I had managed to save during my two-month crack binge. The spectators’ disappointed groans meant nothing to me. I was ready to start my life over again.

It took a lot of makeup for me to cover the puffiness around my eyes from all the crying I’d been doing lately. As if reading the first lady’s letter after Bingo wasn’t hurtful enough, I had spoken to three different church members over the past week who confirmed Sister Alison’s story that the bishop and Lisa Mae were seeing each other romantically. I felt like such a fool. The bishop still wasn’t returning my calls. But as I walked into the church forty-five minutes early for the eleven o’clock service, I knew I wasn’t the only one who was going to feel like a fool when this day was over. Ignoring the people who still lingered from the early morning service, I walked to the front of the church and placed a small shoulder bag on the first pew, directly in front of the pulpit. Then I stomped out of the church and went home to change my clothes.