A Street Girl Named Desire: A Novel (5 page)

Nika must have drifted off. When she opened her eyes there was someone standing in front of her that she didn't fully recognize. It was a woman. She had a blanket wrapped around her body. Her black hair was soaking wet, matted against her head. Her eyes, small and dark, were surrounded by a shade of yellow that
matched her lone three teeth. Her eyes had large, dark circles around them as if she had been punched. Her lips were bloated and puffy, like balloons.

“Come here.” Sandy curled her finger from beneath the blanket, motioning for her daughter to come closer. “It is time that you start earning some money for Mommy, for a change.”

Sandy dragged Nika into the bathroom, and brought her out decorated in heels and lipstick.

I
t was several months before Desire was released from the hospital. By this time the story had long ceased being of interest to news reporters—and thus, politicians—but not to government agencies.

Prior to the custody hearing taking place on that day, Nika's lawyer had her criminal charges dropped. She was relieved not to have to worry about jail time. However, she did have to concern herself with the Administration for Children's Services. Once they started an investigation, they stayed on offenders like a plague.

Nika stood nervously before the judge in her custody case. Standing alongside her was her court-appointed lawyer. Nika gripped the Bible Hattie Mae had given her.

Judge Katie Ross, black, in her late forties, glanced intermittently at the defendant and the court papers in front of her. She was surprised by the young age of the defendant.

“Ms. Mitchell,” the judge barked. “After reviewing your case and all the issues involved, I'm mandating you to an eighteen-month drug rehabilitation program, at which time a social worker will monitor your progress on a weekly basis. Now, in the matter of Desire Mitchell, the court will assign her to the custody of the foster care system.”

Nika screamed loudly and covered her face with her hands.

“No … don't take my baby from me. I'm sorry for what I did. I won't smoke no crack no more. Please don't take my baby!”

Her lawyer attempted to calm her.

Nika yelled louder, “Get ya fuckin hand off of me, bitch. I'm not letting y'all take my baby!”

In an instant, a female court officer hurried over to restore peace.

“Ms. Mitchell. You must restrain yourself and allow me to finish,” the judge said, pounding her gavel on the desk.

In a stern whisper, her lawyer said, “Nika, listen to me. If you ever want to see your daughter again, I suggest you calm down right now. Keep your mouth shut. Do you understand?”

The lawyer challenged Nika's malicious stare until Nika gave in to a more calmed expression.

The lawyer turned smoothly to the judge. “Your Honor, please forgive us for our brief moment of outburst. I'm sure you can understand a mother's feelings under such circumstances.”

The judge stared at the counsel briefly, then at Nika. “Ms. Mitchell, right now you are acting on emotions, but in time you
will see the reasoning of my decision. At this point and time, Ms. Mitchell, you must look at your present circumstances. You are homeless, unemployed, and addicted to an illegal substance. With all these things going against you, what could you possibly offer your daughter?”

Nika sadly eyed the floor.

“Ms. Mitchell,” the judge said softly. “I have three children of my own. I cannot come close to knowing how it would feel to have my children taken away from me. However, I do know this … I know that if I weren't in the position to care for them, I would be happy and grateful to place my babies with someone who can do better than me.”

Nika looked up, directly into the judge's eyes. Her experiences with Nurse Dixon and Hattie Mae had humbled her. Though initially they seemed to be the enemies, something inside of Nika allowed her to look past the possibility they were threats and understand that they could actually want what was best for her. She had not been expecting a lecture along with her sentence, but the judge had convinced her of something she hadn't wanted to see. She put her head down in devastation, letting the judge's words sink in.

“You have not lost your parental rights. You will be allowed to see your daughter on a supervisory basis, until you complete your rehabilitation program, get housing, and demonstrate to the court your transition into society,” the judge announced.

Still uneasy and desperate, Nika pleaded, “Your Honor, ma'am, I understand everything you said and you are right. I'm gonna do everything I gotta do, but not knowing the people who gonna get my baby, I'm not sure if they gonna give my baby the attention
she needs. My lawyer had warned me this might happen. So we filed papers to have somebody I know take temporary custody.”

“Yes, I read the petition. However, that would apply only to the maternal grandparent only. And even still, for someone to be considered a candidate or a foster parent, they have to meet certain criteria. Unfortunately, the candidate was rejected because of age. At sixty-five, she is well past the foster parent maximum age, and that rules her out already.”

The courtroom grew still. The judge shuffled the papers a few more times, then she noticed the name of the petitioner: Hattie Mae Evans. She stared at Nika for a moment.

“However …,” the judge's voice dragged, “howwweverrrr, I'm overruling the decision and will grant temporary custody to the petitioner.”

Nika couldn't believe her ears.

F
or the first seven Month of her year-and-a-half-long-stay, Nika had a hard time adapting to the Therapeutic Community she was placed in.

A typical TC is a long-term drug rehabilitation center in which the stay can last from twelve to thirty-six months. Similar to a boot camp, it is designed to break a person down and then rebuild him or her, both mentally and spiritually. Nika wanted to leave as soon as she arrived. Never in her life had she had to follow such strict orders and allow people to talk to her any old kind of way. On many days, she felt she could not take it any longer and wanted to leave, but always one thing stopped her—her baby. She knew she had to survive without so much as a glitch.

Hattie Mae and Desire had bonded. At eighteen months old, Desire's health was no longer an issue. In addition to having Miss Hattie as a foster mother, Desire had Hattie Mae's church congregation behind her. Miss Hattie beamed with newfound pride and joy when she watched Desire get baptized. She praised the Lord for Desire's deliverance into God's kingdom and knew from that day on that He would take care of her.

Over the course of time, Nika hadn't missed a single supervised visit and became a model recovering addict inside her program. She obtained her GED, and her social worker was so impressed that she recommended unsupervised visits. In her mind, Nika started to become the person she had fantasized about being every time she had succumbed to the urge to hit the streets, and the crack pipe. With each new success, she felt her true self coming back. She saw herself being the mother that she knew she could be: caring, loving, attentive, and drug-free. The dream was starting to become a reality. But then Nika started slipping. Addiction, she would soon learn, was a lifelong cycle, a battle that she would fight each and every day of her life. This was the aspect of recovery no one could truly prepare her for. She would soon find herself overcome, despite all the progress she had made, by the urge to use again.

One night, at nearly 10 p.m., Nika was supposed to have Desire back home three hours earlier from her unsupervised visitation. Hattie Mae was going crazy with concern. Just as she picked up the phone to call the police, there was a knock on the door.
She didn't even bother to look through the peephole before ripping the door open. It was Nika, with Desire sound asleep in her stroller, hugging a little pink teddy bear. Hattie Mae pulled Desire from the stroller and hugged her tightly.

“I'm sorry,” said Nika as she unpacked Desire's things. “We went to Coney Island. I didn't expect the train ride to be so long.”

When Nika walked over to help Hattie Mae undress Desire, Hattie Mae smelled alcohol on her breath.

“Chile, tell me you ain't been drinking while you was out there with the baby? You know those people from the courts said you not suppose to use no nothing, especially around this here baby.”

Nika tried to downplay the infraction.

“Hattie Mae, calm down, I ain't had nothing but a couple of coolers on the ride back from Coney Island. Dag, it ain't like I smoked crack or something.”

“Still, anything can happen if you ain't right around the baby,” Hattie Mae rebutted.

Nika sucked her teeth. “I ain't gonna let nothin happen to my baby, so you don't have to worry.”

Hattie shook her head and chose not to argue any further.

“Anyway,” said Nika, smiling as she kissed Desire's sleeping face, “I'm already running late, and, um, Miss Hattie, you think you can give me ten dollars to hop a cab so I won't be late and get in trouble?”

Hattie Mae went to her room and got the money for Nika. When she returned, Nika suddenly and unexpectedly gave Hattie Mae a kiss.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot.” Nika reached in her pocket and
pulled out a cassette tape. “I made this tape for Desire so she could fall asleep at night. Can you make sure to get a tape player and play it for her?”

Not wanting to believe her strange sense of what was really going on, Hattie smiled as she watched Nika walk down the stairs.

A week later, Hattie Mae heard a knock on the door at 3:46 in the morning. She turned on the lamp by her bed, quickly put on her robe, and went to the door. She adjusted her eyes as she looked through the peephole. “Who is it?” she asked in a tone much sterner than normal.

“It's me, Hattie Mae. Nika.”

Surprised, Hattie took another look before unlocking the door. Nika stood wild-eyed, with a nervous smile across her face.

“Chile, what you doing here this time of morning?” Hattie Mae asked as she turned on the lights.

“Um,” Nika began to utter, “they gave me my first overnight pass, and you know, I used it.”

“If they gave you a pass, why you just gettin here this time of morning?”

Nika shrugged her shoulders, then responded, “Well, me and some friends from the program was having coffee at this shop, you know, and was talking and we lost, you know, track of time.”

Nika wiped the pouring sweat from her forehead.

“Okay,” Miss Hattie relented, “you go'n stay here tonight?”

Nika answered quickly. “Yeah, but I got to go to the store first
and get me something, and I was wondering if you can lend me ten dollars?”

Miss Hattie asked, “What you want this time of night? Can't it wait till morning?”

“Well…,” said Nika, “I would, but my period just came down, and you know …”

Hattie Mae shook her head and then said that she understood. The Christian woman inside of her wanted to help Nika, but there was a feeling nagging her about what exactly she could be helping the child do. Hattie Mae wanted, needed, to believe that she had intervened and been able to save this young girl from the demons that had their grips on her soul. She needed to believe that it all wasn't for nothing, otherwise she could have left her and her child dying in the snow. She needed to believe that some good could change the world. It was this belief that kept her waking up every morning, and sitting in the church pews every Sunday. She decided to push the nagging voice aside, mute her insincts, and once again help the child she had rescued from the snow. She reached inside her purse and pulled out a small roll of money.