CHAPTER 12
It was nearing afternoon, when Apple was suddenly awakened by her mother charging into the bedroom and shouting, “Apple, where the f-uck is Nichols? She ain’t come home last night!”
Apple stirred from her bed, the mention of Nichols not coming home last night making her rise quickly. “Ma, what are you talking about?” She looked over at Nichol’s bed, which was still made, and worry sunk into her like the Titanic. She sprung to her feet. It wasn’t like Nichols to hang out all night and not let anyone know. She rushed toward Kola’s bedroom and banged on the door, but there was no answer. f-uck it! Apple thought. She picked the bedroom lock, and when she and her mother entered Kola’s bedroom, it was empty.
Then it dawned on Denise. “That bitch probably got my daughter hanging out all night with her.”
Apple thought the same thing. She tried to call Kola, but her call went straight to voice mail. The two decided to chill, and wait until Kola came home.
Late afternoon came, and Denise and Apple were watching TV, their nerves on edge. Apple kept calling Kola on her phone, but again her calls when straight to voice mail.
Apple went to the store, hoping she would run into one of her sisters, but the blocks were empty and quiet. With two murders in the past three days, the cops were on steady patrol and locking up hustlers left and right.
Kola finally walked through the front door around six in the evening.
“Kola, where’s Nichols?” Denise asked.
“I don’t know,” Kola returned with a hint of sarcasm.
“Nichols ain’t come home last night, Kola,” Apple told her.
Upon hearing that, Kola’s expression went from that of a bad girl to a worried sister. She looked at her family and spat, “What you mean, she ain’t come home last night? Where the f-uck is she?”
“We tryin’ to find that out now,” Apple said.
All of a sudden, Kola had the look of a lost soul. She immediately began to think the worst. She knew she had enemies, and wondered if someone got to Nichols in retaliation for something she’d done in her past.
She quickly got on her phone and began making calls. The first person she called was Dina. After three rings, Dina picked up, and Kola wasted no time. “Dina, where’s Nichols?” she asked frantically.
“I don’t know. The last time I saw her was yesterday evening. I left her sitting in Hue-Man on Eighth Avenue. Why? What happened?’
“She ain’t come home last night,” Kola said.
“What!”
“You sure that was the last time you saw her?” Kola asked.
“Yes. She wanted to stay, but I had to leave,” Dina said. “I’m coming over there.”
After Dina hung up, Kola made a few more phone calls. She called up a few thugs and put the word out that her little sister was missing.
Denise wanted to call the police, but Kola was against having pigs in her business, knowing her people would be on it. But Denise was adamant about getting law enforcement involved. Nichols was her baby girl, and no matter how harsh she was toward her girls, she still loved them and knew the cops were probably better at finding a missing young girl than anyone else.
“Ma, I got this!” Kola yelled.
“I’m calling them, Kola. She’s my fuckin’ daughter!” Denise screamed out.
“I’ll find her my damn self, and whoever disrespects her or do somethin’ to her, God help them, ’cause they gonna have to deal wit’ me.” Kola charged out the apartment and slammed the door shut, leaving Apple and Denise wondering and worried.
*****
Twenty-four hours after Nichols’ disappearance, two detectives entered the untidy apartment, where Denise sat on the couch worrying about her missing daughter. Apple sat next to her and had the same concern.
The two suit-and-tie detectives looked around the apartment and noticed the tattered furniture, ragged carpeting, and soiled walls, and quickly passed judgment on the mother, figuring the daughter was more of a runaway than a kidnap victim. Still, they had to carry out their job, minus their opinion. They stood over the family, trying to look concerned, but it wasn’t easy for them to reserve judgment. From their experience, many missing young girls sixteen and under were either trying to escape from something at home—abuse, rape, molestation—or in other cases, leaving home in pursuit of love or a dream.
Detective Miles was tall, young in the face, easy on the eyes, and looked more caring than his partner. He said, “Miss, sometimes a young girl runs away in search of love. Did she have a boyfriend or someone?”
“My daughter ain’t go chasing behind some fuckin’ boy. She ain’t like that. They took my baby!”
Detective Greggs was older, shorter, had a graying beard, and appeared to be the father of many. He knew Harlem like the back of his hand. He remembered being a rookie cop during the days when Nicky Barnes and Frank Lucas ran the show. He had watched Harlem change drastically over the years. Witnessed the birth of crack cocaine firsthand. He remembered Rich Porter and Alpo, young kingpins coming up after the older ones died out on the streets or in prison. His thirty-plus years on the force were met with good times, but also racism and neglect. He had seen his fair share of missing young runaways chasing after pimps and boyfriends, thinking they had found love. Years later, they’d be either turning tricks or dying slowly while chasing a high.
“Did she have any enemies at school or in the neighborhood?” Detective Greggs inquired.
“No, not my baby.” Denise started sniffling.
Detective Greggs had seen many mothers heartbroken over their children’s absence. Sometimes, it could have been prevented with good parenting, but other times the child left on their own volition. He remained unfazed by Denise’s tears. Looking at the condition of the apartment, he wondered why Child Protective Services hadn’t already intervened and taken her children away.
“Look, I’m going to be honest with you,” Greggs told Denise. “She’s young, and the chances are she’s with a boyfriend that you are unaware of. She thinks she’s found love and wants to chase it. Give it some time. She’ll come back.”
But Denise still wasn’t buying it, so the detectives took down Nichols’ description, and Denise gave them a small headshot Nichols had taken at school. Still, both detectives were reluctant to pursue the case.
Apple broke her silence. “She don’t have a boyfriend, a’ight! My little sister tells me everything. If she was dealing wit’ someone, then I damn sure woulda known about it.”
“We’ll look into it, ma’am, I promise,” Detective Miles expressed half-heartedly.
They then exited the apartment, leaving Apple feeling like she couldn’t trust them and that she would have to handle things on her own. She rushed into her room and quickly got dressed, sliding into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She rushed by her mother and bolted for the stairway. She left her building with an attitude and strolled through the projects, asking around for her little sister.
But everyone was giving her the same answer: “Didn’t see her.”
Apple rushed up to Lenox Avenue, where the bustling streets were filled with people and young teens. With the drive of a machine, she went into every establishment with a picture of Nichols and asked if she had been inside in the past twenty-four hours, but the replies were all negative.
Apple stood on the avenue, tears trickling down her face. She was fearing the worst, knowing that something had probably happened to her little sister already. She started walking up the block, her mind racing. Faces became a blur to her, and the sound of traffic was muted from her mind as she moved up and down the street with speed.
By nightfall, it seemed hopeless. After hitting every block and every corner, Apple was no closer to finding out what happened to Nichols. She slowly walked back to her home, praying that, when she walked through her front door, Nichols would be there waiting for her with a smile and a hug; that it was only a nightmare.
When she made it to the corner of Lenox Avenue and 139th Street, she spotted Guy Tony chilling out with a few friends. Something wild sparked inside of her, and then it dawned on her that Supreme was probably the one responsible for her sister’s disappearance. He definitely had the motive and reputation to do something so vile and heartless.
She marched over to Guy Tony, her eyes beaming on him intensely. She bent down, picked up a beer bottle, and rushed up to him while he had his back turned to her.
Guy Tony noticed the look of expectation his friends had in their eyes, distracted by something or someone approaching from behind him. By the time he turned around, Apple had already struck him upside his head with a glass bottle, smashing it into pieces.
“Bitch, what the f-uck is ya problem?” Guy Tony screamed out as he doubled over in pain, clutching his bleeding wound.
“Where the f-uck is my sister?” Apple yelled.
Apple was poised and ready to strike again if needed, but Guy Tony’s friend quickly intervened, knocking the jagged tool from her hand and restraining her from doing any more damage.
Apple fought and cursed, creating a scene. “Get the f-uck off me! Get off me!”
Onlookers gathered to watch the activity from a distance, to see what would transpire next.
Guy Tony wiped the blood from his face while glaring at Apple. “You fuckin’ bitch! What the f-uck you talkin’ about?” he shouted.
“You took her! Give her back! She ain’t got shit to do wit’ what’s going on wit’ Supreme and me!”
“We ain’t take ya sister! You done fuckin’ lost your mind,” he shouted back.
Apple, squirming and fidgeting in her captor’s arms, had tears streaming down her face as she looked at Guy Tony with hostility.
Meanwhile, as more people gathered around the dispute, Guy Tony started to get nervous. Even though he was the one assaulted, he knew the police would most likely be more sympathetic to Apple and see her as the victim. Not to mention he had his .45 tucked snugly in his waistband. He had a long rap sheet and didn’t want to see Central Booking anytime soon.
He looked at his friend and said, “Let her go.”
Everyone looked at him with confusion.
Guy Tony repeated himself. “I said, ‘let her fuckin’ go!’”
As soon as Guy Tony’s friend released Apple, she went up to Guy Tony and spat in his face, which was rapidly followed by a hard right-hand smack. “Where is she?” she continued, rage and anger devouring her. She had no proof that Guy Tony or Supreme had anything to do with her sister’s disappearance, but her gut wouldn’t let it go.
Guy Tony knew to keep his cool. There were too many people around watching. Too many witnesses that didn’t like him and would easily lie on him. He stepped back from Apple and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Muthafucka, don’t lie to me! You took her! You fuckin’ took her!” Apple screamed, her accusations echoing off into the streets.
Guy Tony knew it was time for his exit. He ignored Apple and turned to get into his truck, but Apple wasn’t through with him. She lunged at him, grabbing him by his T-shirt from the back and stretching it until it tore.
“Yo, somebody get this crazy bitch off me!” Guy Tony shouted out.
A few hands pulled Apple free from Guy Tony’s torn shirt, and he kept it moving until he was in his truck and had the ignition started.
Apple screamed out, “He got my little sister! They kidnapped her! They took her!” She watched as the truck drove off, and her world slowly became a lot dimmer.
The police soon arrived, but the disturbance was already done with. Apple walked away feeling hopeless. Maybe Nichols did run away, she began to think. She moved through the projects slowly, vowing to continue her search no matter how late it got. Apple was determined to find out what happened to her little sister, and was hoping it wasn’t something she’d done that caused Nichols to suffer.
An hour past midnight, Apple stood lingering in front of her building, still drying her tears. The hope of her sister being home was a bust when she’d walked through her front door earlier and there was no sign of Nichols or Kola around. Only her mother was there, staring out the living room window, smoking a Newport, clutching a half-empty glass of vodka, her face looking like it had aged ten more years.
The two looked at each other, but no words were exchanged. Their look said it all. It was hard to even think of the worst.
Unable to remain in the apartment any longer, Apple went back outside to breathe and think of places where Nichols could be. She hadn’t heard or seen Kola in hours, but Apple was sure she was doing her part somewhere to help find Nichols.
Apple took a long pull from the cigarette as she looked around the projects. Paranoia had kicked in, so as far as she was concerned, everybody was a suspect. She thought about all of the jealous bitches that hated on her and her sisters for the longest time. She thought about the thirsty guys that wanted to sleep with her, those she’d turned down, sometimes in the worst way. She thought about her enemies from the past, the bitches she and Kola had jumped on, with the hair-pulling, face-scarring, skin-bruising, and clothes-tearing. They both were beasts on the streets when it came to having each other’s backs, even though at times, they were each other’s own worst enemy.
Apple took a few more drags and flicked the cigarette away. Then she noticed Kola stepping out of a burgundy Range Rover with fancy tires and rims. Kola exited the truck in her short skirt and sexy stilettos. Apple watched Kola come her way from a good distance, but she didn’t move from her spot. She knew Kola had put the word out on the street about their missing sister, and she waited anxiously for any kind of news.
Kola stepped up to Apple with a straight gaze. “Let me holla at you.”
Apple followed behind Kola, and the two met in the stairway of their building. Apple’s heart pounded with worry, thinking Kola had some bad news to tell her. She tried to brace herself for anything.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“What beef you got wit’ Supreme? And don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Apple. I need to know.”
“He took Nichols?”
“We don’t know. But it’s funny how all of a sudden he got you in the stairway roughing you up, and then a few days later, Nichols is missing. What’s up wit’ that?”
Apple didn’t want to come clean, knowing how quickly things could spiral out of control, even though they already had. But she didn’t want to believe Nichols was taken because of a meager debt she owed. It scared her to know that she could be responsible for her sister’s kidnapping, and it was eating away at her conscience.
Kola stared at Apple, demanding an answer from her.
Apple shut her eyes for a moment, leaned her back against the wall, then looked at her younger sibling by only forty-six minutes. “I borrowed money from him, a’ight?”
“You dumb bitch!” Kola barked. “You know how grimy that nigga is! Why the f-uck did you even get in bed wit’ that nigga? What the f-uck were you thinkin’?”
“I just needed it. It was important.”
“And you couldn’t come to me for it?”
Apple sucked her teeth and spit out a quick, “Please.”
“So now you in debt to this stupid muthafucka for how much?”
“I borrowed five hundred, but he raised it to six-fifty.”
“Six hundred and fifty dollars? Why? For a fuckin’ outfit for that Summer Jam concert? You tell Supreme I’ll give him his fuckin’ money, but if he touches my sister, he’s dead.”
Apple was quiet. It was the first time in a long while that she let Kola talk without interfering. She knew Kola was right. She tried to hold back her tears and contain her guilt.
She now knew that she had grossly underestimated Supreme. Stupidly she thought she would take the money, he’d push up for sex, and she’d turn him down. Never in her wildest imagination did she think he would handle young girls as he did a dude on the street. Even though there was no solid proof that Supreme was responsible for Nichols’ disappearance, she knew he had a hand in it somehow.
“I can’t even look at you right now, Apple, but I swear, if anything happens to Nichols, I will never forgive you for this.” Kola charged out the stairway exit and slammed the door behind her, leaving Apple slumped against the wall, knowing she had seriously fucked up.