Wild Cherry (9 page)

I didn't see the blow that started the fight, but by the time José and me got there, the guy was beating Princess like a man. She got in several good licks of her own, but she was no match for him. Just before he could stomp her out, José had snatched him off his feet and started kicking his ass. Big José and his crew took that boy out to the alley with every intention of making him disappear, but Princess begged for his life. I felt so bad that I became hysterical over my friend, and when she crawled on her hands and knees and begged José not to finish him, the knife in my heart was twisted even deeper. Though I tried to tell myself I took it so hard because of how he had beaten Princess, it was really because I saw myself in her.

Randy and I had both been calling her for days to make sure she was okay, but we kept getting the voice mail, or her boyfriend would answer and say that she couldn't come to the phone. I thought about calling the police, but I didn't have any contact information for Princess other than her cell phone number. I felt like I was beating a dead horse when I tried her cell again, but to my surprise she picked up this time.

THIRTEEN

Princess

For the past few days, I've been a prisoner to my heart, my body, and my apartment. Slim's was the last face I'd expected to see at Paradise, but I should've known my karma would come back around. I fought the good fight, but ended up getting my ass kicked. When the big Puerto Rican kid had grabbed Slim, I thought God had sent me an angel. I was okay with Slim getting his ass beat, but when the Puerto Rican cat was going to shoot him, I broke down. I must've looked like a damn fool, crawling on my hands and knees, begging for the life of someone who had been trying to kill me a few minutes prior, but when you're in love, other people's opinions go out the window, even if you
are
making a damn fool of yourself.

I pulled myself out of bed, ignoring the aches and pains that plagued my body. Thankfully, Slim wasn't home, so I'd be able to have a little time for myself. I opened the refrigerator, and of course, there wasn't anything in it but some old Chinese food and a half-empty bottle of red Alizé. Slim drank so much of that shit that it was a wonder his piss didn't come out red, because his shit sure as hell did. I left the Chinese food and curled up on the couch with the Alizé.

Truth be told, I sometimes wished Slim dead. I envisioned me taking one of those damn red Alizé bottles and caving his pointy-ass skull in, and a time or two, I'd come close to doing it, but my heart always stayed my hand. I've been running the streets since I was a shorty and have come across some real boss niggaz. They showered me with paper and promises, but when they'd outlived their usefulness, I cut them off without batting an eye. They were little more than a means to an end, but Slim fucked the game up for me. I let him into my heart, and in return he stomped and pissed on it every chance he got. I'd seen this movie a thousand times with my friends, but still managed to nominate myself for the part of Best Supporting Actress. For as long as my heart continued to trump my common sense, I would be a prisoner. I totally understood why the caged bird sang.

I heard the muffled ring of my phone, but had no idea where it was because Slim hid it from me before he left. He called his self putting me on punishment, but his dumb ass didn't think to turn it off before he hid it. I found it under the cushion just before my voice mail kicked in.

“Hello?”

“Princess?” a familiar voice asked.

“Oh, hi, Gina,” I said sheepishly. After what I'd caused at her husband's club, I had been too embarrassed to speak to her.

“Girl, me and Randy have been trying to reach you all week. We were worried sick.” She was genuinely concerned. It was nice to have someone give a shit about me, because my man sure didn't. “We thought that maybe…”

“Nah, he hasn't killed me … yet.” I tried to laugh it off, but it was no joke.

“Baby, how long has this been going on?”

I sighed. “Too long, Gina, too long.”

“Princess, I had no idea that you were involved with an abusive man. Did you tell Audrey, or your mother?”

“No, they don't know, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything. I don't want to worry them,” I told her, but it was more like I didn't want them to call my uncle Bo. He was an old-school gangsta that was still putting in work at the age of fifty-five. There was no doubt that if word of this got back to him, there'd be no amount of begging that could save Slim.

“Okay, I'm not gonna tell them what's going on, but something has got to be done,” she said.

“I know, Gina, but my head is so screwed up right now. I just need a minute to think.”

“Listen, why don't you come meet me for drinks and we can talk about it,” she offered.

I would've loved to go out, but Slim didn't leave me any money. “I ain't really got—”

“I didn't ask you what you had, Princess. This is on me. Give me your address and get yourself dressed, and I'll come and get you.”

“No,” I blurted out. “I mean, I wanna come, but we can't meet here. I don't know when Slim is coming back, and I don't want him to catch me creeping out of here.”

“Okay, then this is what we'll do. Throw on some sweats and hop in a cab to Macy's on Thirty-fourth Street. I'll be there in fifteen minutes to pay for it. After that, we can do some shopping and stuff our faces while we talk about the sorry-ass men in our lives.”

“Gina, you don't have to—”

“Princess, I know that all I have to do in life is stay black and die; I
want
to do this for you. Just come on, girl.”

I took a few minutes to think about it. I wasn't doing anything but sitting in the house and licking my wounds, so why not go out. Slim would probably flip and give me another beating, but who the hell cared? “Okay, Gina, I'll see you in a few.” Five minutes after I ended the call, I had on a pair of faded jeans and a tank top and was out the door to make it to my rendezvous.

FOURTEEN

Gina

When Princess stepped out of the taxi, my heart sank. Her lip was swollen, and I could see the bruising around her eye, even behind the dime-store sunglasses. She opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her with a hug. I knew she needed it because she immediately began sobbing into my chest. While we enjoyed each other's embrace, I whispered to her that it was going to be all right.

After our moment on the corner, I took her inside Macy's and proceeded to spend up Jackie's money. I brought Princess a pretty violet sundress and some sandals to change into and a few outfits just to take with her. For myself, I bought the most high-end pieces I could find and bought three bed-in-a-bags for one hundred dollars apiece. When I got outside, I gave two of them away to homeless people who were sleeping on the streets and kept one for myself for the bed in the guest room, where I planned to spend the next few nights. After leaving Macy's, we decided to get a room at the Hotel New York and burn up one of Jackie's credit cards on room service.

The room was small, but it didn't matter. We came there to drink and think, not sleep. I ordered a bottle of Alizé Red Passion and Rémy Martin from the bar downstairs and two dinner platters. Princess declined the Alizé, saying it reminded her too much of Slim. I could totally understand that, because Jackie was the reason I couldn't stand cherry smoothies. Princess cracked the bottle of Rémy and attacked it with vigor. She had already taken three shots when I was still on my first. My girl had a lot on her mind.

We sat and did shots of Rémy while I listened to Princess bring me up to speed on her situation. She told me about how she'd robbed Slim, which is what led to her getting beat up in the club. She tried to blame herself for the whole thing, but I wasn't having that.

“Princess, this ain't none of your fault.” I patted her on the back of her hand. “I don't care what goes on between y'all—Slim has no right to put his hands on you.” I felt like a hypocrite as the words left my mouth.

“Gina, I don't know how I've gotten to this point,” Princess told me with her head in her hands. “It used to be so good between us, but lately it's been like World War fucking Three. I know that there's a good man somewhere inside him, but I just can't seem to bring it out.”

I tossed back my shot and looked at her. “Baby, the devil is a liar and can't no good ever come out of his mouth. The Slim who wooed you is the mask, but the nigga you bumped into at the club the other night is his
real
face.”

“I'm starting to see that, but my heart tells me that there's still hope for him … hope for us.”

“I know, Princess, but sometimes you gotta look at the writing on the wall. It started with a slap and escalated to a punch, the next thing you know you'll be collecting frequent-flyer miles at the local emergency rooms and learning how to do tricks with makeup to hide your shame and his madness.”

Princess looked up at me quizzically. “Gina, I hear what you're saying, but it isn't as cut-and-dry as you make it sound. I know it might sound foolish, but I love him. You just don't understand.”

Tears were in my eyes when I looked into hers. “Baby, I understand better than you think.” I dug in my pocket for a wipe and rubbed the makeup off the side of my face so that she could see the slightly healed bruise. “If you're a fool, then I must be the village idiot, because I was dumb enough to marry my tormentor.”

“I had no idea,” Princess whispered, with her eyes still glued to my cheek. She reached out and brushed my cheek tenderly. It stung a bit, but I didn't pull away. Her probing fingers were soft, kind of like someone running a feather along the side of my face. I momentarily closed my eyes to compose myself, and when I opened them, Princess was staring at me sadly. At that moment, something passed between us. I'm still not sure what it was, but it was powerful.

“Most people don't.” I reluctantly pulled away. “On the outside, it's all good, but there are fires raging in my home, too. Sister girl, let me give you a little bit of my truth.” I don't know if it was the alcohol or the sense of familiarity I had with Princess, but I opened up to her in a way that I hadn't even done with Randy. I told her Jackie's and my story from start to finish, not leaving out one detail. By then we'd gotten halfway through the bottles; we were both drunk and crying on each other's shoulders.

“Gina, what happened to us?” Princess slurred. “I mean, my mother raised me and Audrey better than that, and I know your mom didn't play when it came to y'all, so how did we get to this point?”

“Because we're stupid,” I said, barely understanding my own drunken drawl. “We spend our whole lives building ourselves up, just to let these sorry-ass Negroes tear us down. Ain't none of them worth the sperm it took to make them. Sometimes I wish Jackie's ass would drop dead, so I can collect the insurance and keep going with my life.”

“I'll drink to that.” Princess threw back her shot. “These Ike Turner–ass niggaz are like sick-ass diseases that need to be vaccinated.”

“Preach, girl!” I tossed back my shot, spilling some of the liquor down my chin and onto my shirt. “I say to hell with all of them.” I reached for my glass of water and ended up knocking it over. We were both feeling nice, but Princess's next statement would sober me right up.

“You know what I think,” she leaned in to whisper, “I think that they all deserve to die for what they're doing to the black woman. Let's do it, Gina.”

“Do what?” I asked, knowing damn well I didn't want to know the answer.

“We should kill them.” She rocked on the bed. “Me and you should knock off Jackie and Slim.”

I sat bolt upright in my chair and gave Princess my most serious stare. “Princess, you're tripping. I mean, I might talk a lot of shit, but I can't kill Jackie. For as much of an ass as he is, he's still my husband and a sick part of me still loves him.”

“I'd do it,” she blurted out.

“What?”

“I'd kill Jackie for you, ma.”

“Princess, I think you've had enough.”

“Yeah, I've had enough, all right, enough of these no-good dogs walking all over us. Fuck Slim and fuck Jackie with his nasty-dick ass. You might wanna go get checked out when you get a chance, too.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked. Princess told me what had happened the other night with Jackie and Kim. In my heart, I'd always known that he was fucking her, but to hear it actually being confirmed was like a slap in the face. The thought of him doing someone else was enough to make me gag, but knowing that he'd put my life at risk sent me to the bathroom to throw up. By the time I came out, Princess was sipping a glass of water and looking slightly more sober than she had been.

“I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you, Gina.” Princess told me.

“It's okay, better late than never,” I was a little uptight with Princess for not bringing it to me immediately, but she wasn't the one at fault; I was. It was my choice to stay with Jackie, and because of his infidelities, that choice might've cost me my life. I tried to hold it together, but ended up breaking down. “I can't fucking believe him!” I threw my glass into the wall and bawled.

“It's okay, Gina. We're strong and we'll make it through this.” Princess stroked my back. Her touch was soothing to me. As she hugged me, a strand of her hair fell in my face and I breathed in the sweet scent of coconut. She began running her fingers along the back of my neck, causing me to shiver.

“I'm sorry,” she said, scooting back a little but still stroking my back.

“It's okay,” I said, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice. I looked up at Princess and the drunken glare in her eyes was gone, replaced by one of naked hunger. I knew what she wanted, and as embarrassed as I was about it, a part of me wanted it, too. I turned to Princess and positioned myself so that our knees were touching on the bed. Timidly, I ran my hands through her thick hair, massaging her scalp. She rolled her head back, exposing her smooth brown throat. I don't know what prompted it, but I reached over and kissed her softly on the neck. Everything after that was a blur.