Prologue
Newark, NJ July 4, 1986
Running up the three flights to our apartment I concentrated on blocking out the smell of urine, the site of crack vials shoved in the corner of each landing, and the sound of police sirens as they whizzed by. All three were on constant replay in my young mind as I counted the days until I could grow up and leave her and this stinking place behind. For now Newark’s Steel City Projects was home to me and my mom Lucille “Lucy” Carter.
Pushing open the front door, I could not wait to plop down on the small couch in our otherwise empty front room, and watch the floor model TV. I hated the bunny eared antenna with extra foil on top. She said it would help us get a better picture on our old black and white but in my opinion, it did not help much at all. These days, I spent more time trying to fix the waves that ran across the screen and far less time watching my favorite program “The Cosby Show.”
“When you start bringing some money up in here then you can buy a television Ms. Thang” Lucy would bark in her raspy low pitched voice whenever I would complain.
I often day dreamed that the Cosby’s were my family or that they would at least adopt me and get me out of this filthy place. Besides she wouldn’t miss me anyways. She only has room for one love in her life and has no problem showing it.
It’s probably wrong to say but I think I hate my mom. She doesn’t care about me. She only cares about that powder she lines up on her tiny mirror and the men she calls my uncles that always run in and out of here. She thinks I don’t know what she does but I do. Then again how could she expect me not to know? I recently turned twelve for Pete’s sake. My neighbor Shawn, who is thirteen, told me how boys put their penis in our hole and hump up and down. One day he showed me a nasty VHS on his parent’s VCR. I also saw a couple of stray dogs doing it in the alley down by the park not too long ago. Sex is what it’s called and even the animals do it. It’s no secret to me.
When my “uncles” are in the back with my mom they pant like those old dirty dogs. I just cover my ears and wait for that long sound at the end. A few minutes later they walk out and my mom stuffs a wad of cash in her bra strap. She just rolls her eyes at me and walks them to the door. When she isn’t looking I roll mines back at her. Sometimes she heads straight for the shower after that, other times she just goes back to her room and slams the door behind her. I rarely catch as much as a glimpse of her during working hours which are volatile to say the least.
I often wish that I had someone to help me with my homework and bake me cookies on special occasions. That’s a stretch because she doesn’t even cook a simple breakfast or dinner for that matter. On second thought, a brother or sister to share things with would be nice. I thought of all of the fun things I could do with a younger sibling. I could teach them things Lucy did not teach me.
Besides, it sucked being an only child. I had no one to play with as the kids in my neighborhood made fun of me. They were poor like me but being the child of a strung out prostitute put me lower on the totem pole. The kids who went to school with us in the nearby nice neighborhood, ironically named Pleasantville, didn’t like me either. They hung out with some of the kids from my neighborhood but steered clear of me. I didn’t have a single girlfriend to chat girl talk to or exchange childhood crushes with. There was no one to confide in when I got my period a few months ago or to sneak and wear make-up with even though I despised the stuff.
As I tuned into my show, I was pleasantly surprised when Bill’s face came up crystal clear on the screen. I instantly laughed out loud when he made one of his funny faces. My chuckles and the volume on the television were soon drowned out by those loud funny noises and grunting sounds coming from the back. I turned the volume up to its max which was still low in my book to cover up sex sounds.
What seemed like a few short minutes later, I heard the door creak and my mom came out of her room. It was situated a short distance down the hall across the hall from my room and to the left of our tiny living room. It was adjacent to our even smaller kitchen.
Lucy had a pale complexion and was very petite in stature barely standing five feet tall. However, what she lacked in height she made up for in spit fire attitude.
At one time she was feared by many in our neighborhood partly because of her father who ran numbers all over Newark and was known to be trigger happy. He died when I was a few years old, murdered by the husband of his lady friend is what I was told. Rumor had it that the lady's husband got tired of Papa disrespecting him and flaunting his woman around town. One day he confronted him. In the end Papa lay dead with a single gunshot wound to the forehead. Witnesses said the husband smiled as he was placed in the back of the patrol car. Around here they called that execution style.
Lucy never knew her teen mother who ran off when she was an infant to pursue a singing career in L.A. They called the woman Roxy and she had left Lucy in the care of her father, a man in his early twenties. Lucy took a turn for the worst at the news of her father’s death turning to drugs for comfort.
Nathaniel “Jack” Carter, better known as “Papa” to me, was a man of many trades. He left her a little money that he stashed from his numbers game and many side hustles, most of which were illegal. That is when she got her first taste of the white devil named cocaine which had hit our city and spread like wild flowers in the 70’s. It was considered the rich white man’s drug. However, Lucy’s new found wealth and preceding reputation, compliments of her father, not only gave her easy access but a brief getaway from the pain of losing her only family member. She blew through the money in no time so she turned to prostitution to support her habit after trying her hand at being a stick up chick. Her mounting habit made it difficult for her to stay on point and after being pistol whipped by her own gun after a hit gone wrong, she gave up robbing people.
As Lucy entered the room now looking a disheveled mess, she was followed by a short, slightly chubby, and fairly young Latino man with messy black hair. His gut was round and hung over his belt buckle which he adjusted when our eyes locked. Instantly he made me uncomfortable as I sat on the couch and tried to refocus my attention on the television screen.
“Girl, didn’t I tell you to stay outside for at least thirty minutes while I handled some business,” Lucy shot at me.
“But my show…” I pleaded.
“Forget that show you better do as you are told the next time or else,” She retorted.
I had never seen this guy before but that wasn’t anything new. Strange men often came in and out of our apartment. However, the way he stared at me caught my attention and made me nervous. I watched him lick his lips as he whispered something to Lucy while looking over his shoulder at me. A look of annoyance came over her face as she ran her fingers through her wild hair which was scattered and strewn about her head like a wild bird’s nest.
I barely remembered when her jet black hair was long and beautiful. It flowed over her shoulders in big soft curls and tickled my nose as she gave me quick kisses that I attempted to swat away. I was about five years old I guess and it was during one of her many attempts at being clean. That time was brief and felt so long ago but I managed to hold onto the memory. It was hard to believe that person ever existed as she showed me no signs of affection now. In fact, I felt that she would have thrown me away a long time ago if she wasn’t getting that check from the welfare people.
“Boy please she is a baby and pure as they come what the hell are you talking about,” she barked at the man.
“Mami I know you want that hook up and this mula” he said as he patted his pocket and held up a wad of cash.
I turned my back to them and continued watching the Cosby’s, taking my mother’s advice to stay out of grown folk’s conversations hoping she would not send me outside.
They went back and forth for a moment saying things I could not make out before she announced that she was going to the store for a pack of cigarettes and that I better stay right on that couch until she got back.
“Yes ma’am,” I said happy that she would be gone long enough for me to finish the second half of the show.
What happened next surprised me. I watched as she walked out the door alone and its steel frame slammed behind her.
The man lingered behind staring at me. He wasted no time as he crossed in front of the television, made his way to the old raggedy couch, and sat down beside me. I became nervous again as I fixed my eyes on the door. For once I wished Lucy would return. The man scooted closer and rested his hand on my knee as I sat with my legs crossed Indian style. Small beads of sweat instantly formed on the palms of my hands as I attempted to scoot away from him.
“He is funny huh?” he asked with a heavy accent pointing at the television.
Again he scooted closer. He smelled funny and the stench of alcohol oozed from him breath as the remnants of his words danced around my head.
“Uh yeah,” I stuttered and tried to stand keeping my eyes on him.
To that he gave me a look, grabbed my arm softly, and pulled me back down into my seat.
“Don’t go yet, this is your home mami. I’m not going to bite” he said with a slight smile.
I tried to concentrate on everything but his wandering eyes trying my best not to make contact with them for any amount of time. I contemplated jumping up and running for the door but fear gripped me and I decided against it.
“My mom should be back in a minute,” I managed to say instead.
I was now aware of the beads of sweat forming on my brow. I made a mental note of the equal pool of sweat forming around this man’s brow. In fact he looked sweaty all over. I noticed him using his shirt sleeve to wipe the drops away but they kept coming.
“You’re a big girl, you can take care of yourself for a few minutes,” he said.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about your ma,” he continued as he scooted closer and stroked my cheek before pulling me on his lap.
I tensed and thought about screaming but it got caught in my throat as a gasp instead as he ran his hand up my skirt and into my panties. The pain shot through me as he tried to force his fingers inside of my vagina.
“My mom will be home in a minute” I said again as the tears welled up in my eyes and ran in warm streams down my cheeks.
“Shhhh,” he said kissing my neck and sending a fresh wave of alcoholic fumes my way that almost made me throw up.
Suddenly, he pushed me down on the couch and began clawing at my tights before unzipping his pants, pulling out his penis, and attempting to hump up and down on me. The pain was unlike anything I imagined as the next five minutes of my life felt like what had to be an eternity of hell. My cries and protests fell on deaf ears as he grunted and wrestled on top of me.
“Shhh mami this will feel good soon baby girl” he stuttered as he struggled on top of me.
Suddenly, I felt a piercing pain run through my privates and a warm sensation run down my legs. I thought about screaming but fear made me think better of it. If this was my uncle then why is he doing this to me? This was the thought that consumed me as his sweat dripped into my eyes and burned. I prayed to pass out or for my sitcom parents to come and rescue me as the room became a blur around me……..
*****
“Girl get your butt up and clean up this mess,” she screamed as I fought to wake up from what had to be a nightmare. The fire I felt in my vagina let me know it had not been as I picked myself up off the couch and nearly fainted again at the sight of the blood covering its worn fabric.
Instantly I panicked expecting the Latino man to come out of the back and hurt me again. I shook my head violently from side to side expecting him to appear from her room as he had before.
“Look at what you have done to my couch,” Lucy exclaimed angrily in her low raspy voice.
“But Lucy….,” I tried to protest but to no avail as she cut me off midsentence.
“Chile if you’re going to do woman things, clean up your mess afterward” she snapped before slapping my face and turning on her heels to go to her room but not before shoving a bottle of cleaner and a brush in my direction.
“You’re a woman now so I expect my rent each month,” she said vehemently over her shoulder before slamming her bedroom door behind her. This left me in a state of pure shock and confusion.
As I attempted to scrub away the memories, the tears ran down my face. It took everything in me to drag my frail body into the bathroom to cleanse myself. It felt as if I had been on the losing end of a 12 round boxing match.
When I did manage to drag myself into the bathroom, I made the water as hot as I could and stepped in but not before catching a glimpse of my tear stained face, tattered clothing, and head of strewn and matted long dark hair in the round mirror above the sink.
God why don’t you hear my cries, I thought as I sat in the tiny tub and scrubbed my body purposefully but to no avail.
That stench which was on me was permanent and would haunt me for years to come.
I was 12 years old. Happy Independence Day.
