Читать книгу Taboo 2: - Yoshe - Страница 8

Fraternal twins India and Asia Charles were gorgeous women, to say the least, and their names fit their facial features to a tee. India was an olive-complexioned beauty with long, dark hair and high cheekbones. Her prominent features also included her straight nose and prominent jawbone, bearing a strong resemblance to a black Pocahontas. Her twin, Asia, was the color of French vanilla ice cream, with a pie-shaped face and slanted eyes. With her jet-black hair and pink, pouty lips, she looked like an Asian princess.

Born and bred in Bedford-Stuyvesant, they were raised in poverty by a single mother. They could recall standing in long cheese lines with their mother, Khadijah, and playing with their bald Barbie dolls on the dirty floors of many welfare centers. On the other hand, Khadijah was always a hustler. She begged, borrowed, and stole from wherever and whoever to make sure that her daughters was taken care of. She also taught them never to trust men and to use them, if necessary. She taught them to use what they had to get what they wanted.

“Twins, y’all know that the game don’t change for no one,” Khadijah would say to her eleven-year-old girls while sitting at the kitchen table of their sparsely furnished Section Eight apartment on Jefferson Street. She would have a glass of Remy Martin in one hand and a Newport cigarette in the other.

“Y’all see your mama? I make sure that y’all have food on this table, clothes on your back, and a roof over your head. You wanna know how I do that?” Khadijah asked, taking a puff of the Newport and a sip of her drink. “I take, shake, and bake, if I have to.”

India, who was the spitting image of her mother and the more inquisitive twin, had a confused look on her face. “What is take, shake, and bake, Mommy?”

“I will take whatever I have to, I will shake my ass if I have to, and I will bake me a crack pie and sell it just to feed me and my babies if I have to. I don’t give a fuck about what I have to do to make sure that me and my babies are good, and you girls shouldn’t either. As for these triflin’ ass men out here? They ain’t good for nothin’ but some sex and some dollars. Love don’t live here anymore, babies,” Khadijah said, blowing smoke through her pointy nose.

India and Asia giggled. They loved when their mother talked like that. Not only did it make them knowledgeable before their time, but they incorporated their mother’s attitude through their adolescence and adulthood as well.

When they became teenagers, it was nothing for the twins to be in the streets as late as they wanted to be. Khadijah was their best friend, never giving them any boundaries. She treated her daughters as if they were her equal. The twins had no regards or respect for anyone else but their mother. They became superficial and materialistic, not knowing how to be anything else. Khadijah had raised them to be this way.

Although the Charles twins were two physically beautiful girls, they had character flaws. Their ghetto mentality and their incessant need for drama stunted their growth and maturity. They turned into refined thieves at fifteen, and then at eighteen, they began living it up by stealing the identities of innocent, hard-working people. They used this hustle to their advantage by hitting up department stores all over the East Coast and ruining the lives and credit of others.

During this time, they bypassed urban labels like Rocawear and Baby Phat, and opted for high-end designers, such as Marc Jacobs and Azzedine Alaïa. Asia and India committed these crimes with no thought of how it affected people, as long as they kept themselves decked out in the hottest couture items and kept their pockets lined with cash.

It was only after their best friend, Tamir, was murdered that they both decided that it was time for them to finally get their acts together or become a statistic. Tamir was found dead in Nassau County, Long Island, off Exit 18 on the Southern State Parkway. She had died at the hands of Tyquan Williams, a resident thug, who eventually met his own demise a month or two after Tamir’s death.

Surprisingly, the twins’ mother was equally spooked by Tamir’s murder, and finally came to her senses. She decided that she didn’t want to lose her daughters to the streets. After this scare, and at the beckoning of Khadijah, the twins made the decision to turn their lives around. India and Asia decided to take a few civil service tests for city jobs.

The first one to call them was the New York City Department of Correction, and they happily accepted the positions of correction officers. Even the Charles twins had to laugh at the irony of the career path that they chose. The only question was did they really change for the better? Only time would tell.

India sat in the spacious living room of the two-bedroom apartment she shared with Asia. While she sat on the couch, painting her toenails, Asia stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around her curvaceous body.

“I was thinkin’ that we should have been had a job like this, girl,” India said. “We’re makin’ good money and still got bitches hatin’ on our swag.”

“I know, right?” replied Asia while applying lotion to her body. “That’s because we be comin’ to work every day lookin’ fly as shit. What I can’t understand is how these broads are makin’ all that money and still be lookin’ half-assed! Those uniforms are an upgrade for them!”

India had other things on her mind. She wasn’t worried about any female officer except for one, and that was Sierra Howell.

“Speakin’ of half-assed broads, I’m really ready to get at that chick, Sierra,” India said, blowing on the candy apple red nail polish on her toes. “I don’t like that bitch.”

Asia laughed while she stood in the doorway of the bathroom, lotioning her nude body. “Don’t you see her at work every day?”

“No, I don’t see her every day. If only she knew that I was Tamir’s friend, she would probably have a fit.”

Asia waved her sister off. “Well, she doesn’t know that we’re Tamir’s friends, India. She doesn’t even know that we exist.”

India fell back on the couch in her living room. “You’re right, but it’s about to be on. I can’t believe that I ended up in the same facility with the bitch.” India looked over her painted toes. “I just miss Tamir so much. I can’t believe that she’s been dead for almost three years now.”

Asia walked toward her bedroom. “I miss her too. She was our buddy.” They both paused. “I wonder what’s up with Rasheed?” Asia sighed. “Tamir was my homegirl but that didn’t stop me from wantin’ to give her man some pussy back then. Shoot, I still want to give him some.”

“You’re a whore, Asia!” India yelled out from the living room.

Asia laughed. “Call me what you wanna call me. But he wasn’t tryin’ to mess with me. He was all into Tamir. If he would have been with the program, man, I think Tamir would have had some problems!” She looked up in the air, like she was talking to her deceased friend in heaven. “Sorry, Tamir, girl!” Both of them laughed.

Asia continued as she walked into her bedroom, “But, oh, well. Since I can’t have Rasheed, I just settled for a few correction officers, who just happen to be payin’ like they weigh. Let them other females give up the puss for free. I’m not doin’ it,” she said with an attitude.

“Is that what you’re doin’, you little trollop? You’re sellin’ coochie to those clowns? They are so corny and I can’t stand any of them. I don’t even want their money. They can keep it. Those guys on the job act like they’re so special. You would think that they’re some A-list celebrities or somethin’. I guess they feel like that because they are layin’ up with a couple of them desperate correction hoes. I just don’t have time for any of their shit,” India replied.

Asia laughed. “Well, you can go ahead and keep comin’ home with that probationary new jack paycheck of yours. I think I done made top pay just from fuckin’ with a few of them CO niggas. I can keep my own paycheck right in my checking account!”

India looked at her sister and smiled. “Do your thing, sweet pea. You know what Mama always said: ‘Men ain’t good for nothin’ but fuckin’ and that money.’ It sounds like you got a good hustle goin’ on.”

“I do,” Asia agreed. “So what’s up with this Sierra chick? You gonna get at her or what?”

“Hell, yeah!” India replied. “Sierra is the reason that Tamir is dead now. If she wouldn’t have started messin’ with Rasheed, Tamir probably would have still been alive today. Who knows? Tamir and Rasheed probably would have even gotten back together. Sierra’s ass is gonna get her payback but I’m gonna do it the smart way. There don’t have to be no fightin’ involved—no violence. I might just even befriend the stinkin’ bitch.”

Asia came out of the bedroom with giant rollers in her hair. “Why don’t you just fuck with her man? Give her a taste of her own medicine so she can see how it feels. Didn’t you say that her man is an assistant deputy warden in your jail?” she asked.

“Yes, he is, and I like that idea,” India responded. She pulled her long hair up and pinned it on top of her head. “I have to meet him first and gain his trust. I don’t know how I’m goin’ to do that though.” India looked at her twin suspiciously. “So while I’m tryin’ to get up with Sierra’s man, what are you goin’ to be doin’, Miss Hot Pants?”

“I’m gonna be workin’ on Rasheed,” Asia announced. “If Rasheed ever comes back to Brooklyn, I’m all over that.”

India playfully rolled her eyes. “Now how are you goin’ to do that when Rasheed is in Atlanta? He is not thinkin’ about you.”

Asia shook her head. “Whatever, heifer. Personally, I don’t see Rasheed stayin’ in Atlanta for too long. He’ll be back because that nigga is a Brooklyn dude at heart. And when he comes back, I will be right here with open arms—and legs, too!” India couldn’t contain her laughter.

The next day, after roll call, India watched closely as Sierra walked through the crowd of officers. She had been watching Sierra for some time now and saw that the woman didn’t really socialize with her coworkers. She stayed to herself most of the time.

Once roll call was dismissed, everyone dispersed to go to their posts. India trailed closely behind Sierra, happy that they were headed in the same direction. This would give her the opportunity to finally meet the woman she despised so much.

Sierra walked into a waiting elevator and India walked briskly to catch it before the doors closed.

“Hold the elevator!” India yelled. Sierra held the elevator and peeped out the door. “Whew! Thank you,” India said as tried to catch her breath. She looked at the stoic Sierra and spoke first. “Hello.”

Sierra smiled. “Hello. Are you goin’ to the fifth floor?” she asked, pressing the fifth floor button.

India smiled back. “Yeah, I have Five West today. What post do you have?”

“I have Five North. That’s my steady housin’ area,” Sierra replied.

“Okay. That’s cool.”

The door opened on the fifth floor and they both stepped out. They waited for the officers to open another gate that led them to their respective housing areas. Before Sierra walked to the North side, India held her hand out and introduced herself.

“By the way, I’m India Charles, and you are?” India looked at the name tag on Sierra’s uniform. “Howell?”

“Pretty name, India. My first name is Sierra.”

“Thank you. So is yours.”

“Are you a new officer? I don’t think that I have ever seen you before.”

I was in the control room yesterday when your man kicked you out of his office, bitch, India thought. She put on a phony smile. “I’ve been here about a year and a half. I’m still on probation, though. I hope I make it off.”

Sierra shook her head. “You’ll pass your probation. Don’t worry.”

India looked at the sleeve of Sierra’s long-sleeved shirt. On one sleeve, she had two hash marks, each representing five years. This meant that Sierra had ten years or more on the job.

“I see that you’re not a new jack. You’ve been there and done that, huh?”

Sierra sighed. “Yeah, I guess I’ve seen it all over the years.”

You haven’t seen anything yet, homegirl, India thought.

Sierra knocked on the window of the control room. The officer opened both gates on the North and West sides to let them into the housing areas.

“Take care, Howell. Maybe we’ll get a chance to talk again real soon.”

Sierra waved back and smiled. “Yeah, Charles, that would be nice. I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day.”

Once India walked onto her post, her smile instantly disappeared. Doing Sierra Howell dirty was going to be easier than she thought it would be.