Читать книгу Skin Game - Lawrence C. Ross - Страница 10

The sufferings that fate inflicts on us should be borne with patience, what enemies inflict with manly courage.

—Thucydides

Veronica was pissed, and Andre had no idea why.

“Andre! Andre!” she screamed. She was stomping up and down in the house. “Andre! Bring your black ass in here.”

Andre slowly got off the couch and began making his way to the back of the house. Veronica was in Keisha’s room.

“Where the hell does Keisha keep her money?” Veronica asked, rifling through Keisha’s room. She went through drawers and was throwing clothes on the floor.

“Momma, what are you doing?” Andre asked, slightly appalled. He was high, but not that high. “Keisha is going to be pissed.”

“You think I really give a shit? Where the fuck is her money?” Veronica asked again, turning toward Andre. “I know the bitch doesn’t have a bank account, so it has to be in here somewhere.”

Veronica walked into Keisha’s closet, continuing to look for Keisha’s money.

“What do you need her money for?”

“I just need it,” Veronica said. “Robert’s back in town and he needs it.”

Robert was Veronica’s sometime boyfriend who tended to be either on the run or in jail. He was always into a little bit of everything, but nothing good. Andre couldn’t stand him being around, and Keisha refused to even acknowledge his presence. To her, he didn’t deserve to be in her father’s home, no matter if her father was not there.

Andre sat down on the bed. Veronica had taken the sheets and had thrown them against the wall.

“Momma, come on,” Andre said. “Don’t take her money, especially for Robert. Your boyfriend should get his own money.”

“Muthafucka, you don’t tell me what to do. Now get off your ass and find that money.”

“Come on, Momma,” Andre pleaded. “Robert hasn’t been around for six months.”

“Find that fucking money, Andre, or you’re gonna find your ass out on the street.”

Andre reluctantly began looking for the money. She kept looking in the closet, while Andre looked down and noticed a shoebox at the foot of the bed and pulled it out.

“I think I found it,” he said, with a low whisper.

Veronica came rushing out of the closet and walked over to Andre. She took the shoebox away from Andre and opened it.

“Shit,” she said, looking at Andre. She started pulling out dollar bills, and they began falling down on the bed. “That bitch must have over a thousand dollars in here. She’s got a thousand goddamn dollars in here and she’s bitchin’ over buying me cigarettes? Nigga, please.”

Veronica gathered the money and put it in her pockets.

“She didn’t need it anyway.”

“What does Robert need the money for?” Andre asked.

“Robert has to pay back a debt,” she said, walking out of Keisha’s room. Andre followed her into the living room, where Veronica now was putting on her coat. “And what does she need the money for anyway? She don’t pay rent. She don’t pay for groceries. And she sure as hell doesn’t give any to you or me. So fuck it, she’s just paying back rent.”

Veronica opened the door to go.

“What should I say to Keisha when she gets home?” Andre asked. “She’s gonna be pissed off.”

Veronica looked back at Andre. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell her. I took the money and I ain’t givin’ it back. So she’ll just have to deal with it. I’ll be back tomorrow. Here’s fifty dollars. Go buy your girlfriend something.”

Veronica threw a wad of money at Andre and then left. Andre sat down on the couch again and pulled out a joint. He lit the joint and looked at his watch.

Keisha should be home in thirty minutes, he thought. That’s enough time to get high. He miscalculated, because as soon as Andre lit the joint, he heard Keisha’s key hit the door. She was back from the Chi Chi Room.

“Before you do anything, let me tell you that I didn’t have a damn thing to do with it,” Andre said to Keisha, stopping her in her tracks.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Keisha said, throwing her keys on the coffee table. Andre took another drag from the joint.

“Here,” Andre said, coughing. “Take the rest of this.”

Keisha took a look at Andre holding the joint and started walking toward her room. Andre pulled the joint back and finished it off.

“What the fuck happened?” Keisha screamed. She came running back into the living room holding her empty shoebox.

“What the fuck did you do with my money, Andre? Where the fuck is my money, you son of a bitch?”

Keisha threw the box at Andre and sprang to hit him.

“I didn’t have anything to do with it, I told you!” he said, cowering on the couch. “Momma took your money.”

“Momma took it?” Keisha said, breathing deeply. “That bitch! What the fuck did she take my money for?”

“Because she had to get Robert out of debt.”

“Robert? Robert?” Keisha asked incredulously. “She stole from her daughter to give money to her fucking drug-dealing boyfriend?”

“In a word, yes. Look, I tried to stop her.”

“I can’t believe this shit. I just can’t believe this shit,” Keisha kept repeating. It was surreal, as though she were in a dream.

She paced around the house thinking about what she should do next. She walked back into her room and surveyed the scene. The bed was overturned, the covers were thrown on the floor, and her clothes were out of her drawers. But there was one piece of paper on her bed. It was the UCLA letter.

“It was wrong, Keisha,” Andre said, as he walked into the room. “I told her that, but she just said that you owed her that money.”

“I didn’t owe her a goddamn thing,” Keisha said, picking up the UCLA letter and crumpling it in her pocket. “I’ve never owed her a goddamn thing. But she blames me for every fucking bad thing that happens in her life.”

“That’s not true,” Andre said. “She doesn’t blame you for her life.”

Keisha went into her closet and pulled out a suitcase. She began picking up her clothes and stuffing them into it.

“Like hell she doesn’t,” she said. “She blames me for Daddy leaving. She blames me for her not being this star she thinks she was destined to be. And she blames me for being me.”

“Daddy was going to leave no matter what,” Andre said. “He was trifling, and you had nothing to do with it.”

Keisha stopped putting clothes in the case.

“Yeah, well, you tell her that. I can’t tell you how many times she’s said that she wished I’d never been born and that Daddy would have stayed if she hadn’t been pregnant with me. So if she doesn’t blame me, then she has a strange way of disguising it.”

Keisha started packing again. The suitcase was overstuffed with clothes, and Keisha tried to close it.

“Where are you going?” Andre asked. He really looked sad.

“Why?” Keisha asked, finally closing the suitcase. “Do you want to tell her so that she can come by each night and take my money?”

“No, because even though I may be a fuck-up, I’m still your brother and I do care about you,” he said.

Keisha stared at him. “If you really cared about me, you would have fought the shit out of her and got me my money. You and her are the same. You only care about yourselves.”

Keisha took the suitcase and made her way to the front door.

“Wait,” Andre said, walking toward her. He reached into his pocket and took out a wad of money. “This belongs to you. Momma gave it to me from your money, but I don’t want it.”

He held out the money and Keisha took it, putting it in her bra.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Take care of yourself.”

Keisha took a quick glance around and then opened the door.

“Yeah, you too.”

And then she left Veronica’s house for good.

As Keisha went down the street, she walked straight, and with her head up, dragged her suitcase. She got to the bus stop and sat on the bench, wondering where to go. She had few options, so for an hour, she watched as bus after bus stopped, opened its doors expectantly, and then drove off. She didn’t know where to go. She wasn’t particularly close to anyone from high school, and she definitely didn’t want to stay with Donovan. With no family around, Keisha simply picked up her cell phone and tried her luck.

“Patra?” Keisha asked.

“Who is this?” Patra sounded like she had been asleep.

“It’s Keisha.”

“Hey, Keisha. What’s up, girl?”

“Hey, I need a favor,” Keisha said nervously. “I had to leave the house and I was wondering if I could crash at your house for a little while?”

“How long is a little while?”

“Let me make some money at the club so I can find a place of my own. I’ll help pay the rent.”

There was a pause on the phone.

“Okay, you can stay on the couch, but my place is tiny, so you’re going to have to find a place of your own as soon as you can,” Patra said. “But come on over.”

“Thanks, girl.”

Keisha hung up and waited for the bus. At least she’d accomplished one goal. She’d gotten out of Veronica’s house.

The bus came and Keisha took a seat. She sat there, wondering why her life had been a struggle. It was like no one had her back, and she was constantly trying to figure out who was going to screw her next. Because in her life, there was always someone looking to get over.

She got off the bus and found Patra’s apartment building. She buzzed the door.

“Hello?” Patra said through the intercom.

“It’s me.”

“Come on up.” The door buzzed and Keisha dragged her bag up to Patra’s apartment. Before she could knock, Patra had opened the door.

“Whoa,” Keisha said. “You scared me.” She walked in with her bag and Patra closed the door.

“I can hear when someone gets off the elevator. You want something to drink?” Patra asked, opening her refrigerator. “I’ve got soda, beer, and an old bottle of champagne from the club.”

“I’ll take a soda, thanks.”

Keisha sat on Patra’s couch and looked around. Her place was neat, with glass shelves holding a TV and some pictures, and a black leather sofa and chair. It wasn’t a spectacular apartment, but Keisha was impressed. She didn’t understand how Patra could afford an apartment like this based on what she got at the Chi Chi Room, but she didn’t want to pry.

“So your mother kicked you out?” Patra asked, handing Keisha the soda.

“No, I left.”

“Why did you leave?”

Keisha took a drink from her soda. “She went into my room and took all of the money I’d been saving up.”

“Damn, your moms stealing from you? That’s fucked-up. How much did she steal?”

“About a thousand.”

“Fuck that,” Patra said. “Excuse my French and I’m not, but I would have stayed at that house and beat down that bitch for doing that. You don’t take my muthafuckin’ money. How come you didn’t just get the money back?”

Keisha took another sip of her soda. “Because she gave the money to her boyfriend, Robert, and it was too late. Plus, Robert’s not a fool to fuck with.”

“Why?”

“Because I think he takes pleasure in beating women, real pleasure. And if I were to confront him about taking my money, he’d go off.”

“Did he live with y’all?”

“That nigga would come in and out the house as he pleased. I haven’t seen him in about six months, but apparently he’s back in town. He slings, so that nigga’s never in the same city for any length of time. He’s probably back here in L.A. because all of the big-time dealers are in County, and he thinks he can make some money—probably with my money. But my momma is so damn stupid, she doesn’t even understand that this nigga don’t give a damn about her.”

“Sorry to talk about your momma like this, but dumb bitches are everywhere,” Patra said. “So what are you gonna do next?”

“I don’t know. Hustle and get as much money as I can as fast as I can, I guess.”

Patra looked at Keisha. They weren’t particularly close, but she did like her. And she kind of felt for her. But her space was her space.

“Look, you can stay here until the end of the month. But you’re going to have to pay a bit of rent, and you need to buy your own food, so don’t fuck with mine. At the end of the month, you’ve got to move out and get your own place. So do what you have to do with Sean, but make it happen.”

“Cool. That’s real cool.”

Patra studied Keisha for a second.

“There’s one other thing,” she said. “What happens in this apartment stays in this apartment. You understand? What I do is my private business, and I don’t want to hear about it. Don’t ask any questions. We clear?”

“Clear.”

Patra stood up and picked up both soda cans and walked to the kitchen. “You’ve lucked out because that couch is a sofa bed. So you can pull it out when you want to go to sleep. I’ll get some keys made and you can come and go as you please. The television has cable, and you can watch it all night long for all I care. I can sleep through anything. Put your clothes in the front closet, and then you’re all set.”

“Thanks, Patra,” Keisha said gratefully. “I won’t be a bother.”

“Sure, you will be,” Patra said, smiling. “But don’t worry about that. Bitches got to stick together, right?”

“Right,” Keisha said, smiling.