“Who me? Ain’t shit going on wit’ me but these bad ass kids.” She went to offer the smallest baby in the umbrella stroller the pacifier that had fallen into her lap.
“Are these your babies?” I asked quizzically as I observed the wonderment in the kids’ eyes as they played. I remember being that young and carefree, able to shut the world out and enjoy each moment even if the environment wasn’t conducive to play.
With ease Theresa informed, “Some of them mine. These two…” she went for two little boys to grab them at the top of their heads to show me. Both had aged cornrows plaited down to their necks as they continued teasing each other. “…and these three is Keysha’s.” She pointed to the remaining two children, one boy and the other a girl, who were now playing hide and go seek around us and the little girl in the stroller.
“Oh.” Hearing Keysha’s name made my heart sputter. I hadn’t thought of her since my last nightmare about J-Boog about a month ago. That was the only time I recalled her, when those lurid dreams occurred. “I didn’t know you had kids,” I murmured.
“Yeah, girl. My oldest is by Luck-Star from the South-side. Remember him, right. His ass locked the fuck up like the rest of them. Shit, my youngest’s daddy is locked the fuck up, too. Same shit, different times,” she breathed out. “You heard about Keysha, right?”
I shook my head.
“Girl, her ass be up to no good, too. She in rehab now and the state done forced me to take these kids again. I keep telling Keysha she gone’ lose these kids for good. Who else gone’ take ‘em—they daddies? Shit, one strung out on dope, the other one dead and the other one just as much as a drunk as her ass is. I be stressed the hell out. That’s why I’m up in here. Now I can’t wait to put these bastards to bed and lay up with my drink.” Theresa gave a lungful exhale.
Wariness wore on her face. Her golden glowing skin had dimmed since the last I saw her at our high school graduation. Age had tumbled upon her prematurely. She had been living life hard. My heart bled. I needed to go, and now before I imploded.
“So, what’s up wit’ you…got any kids—”
We heard a thud on the floor and simultaneously turned our attention to find the kids picking up a bottle that must have fallen during their play.
Theresa bellowed, “What the fuck y’all doing! Get y’all asses over here before I beat the shit outta yous!”
Just then, the store clerk started firing off profanities, partially in his native tongue and the other half in English telling Theresa to get the kids out of the store and that she would be paying for any damaged products.
That was my perfect cue.
Amidst the barrage of angry and threatening words between the clerk and Theresa, I whisked out, “Theresa, I have to go. I have someone waiting on me—”
She cut me off with a cry, “But wait…give me your number—”
“My mother can give it to you. Ask her for it the next time you run into her. I have to go!” I shouted as I loped out of the store, damn near tripping over one of the kids. I was desperate to get a hundred miles between me and home.
On my way back to the hotel, I recounted the events of my day. I don’t know which encounter disturbed me the most: that with my mother or grandfather, or learning that Keysha had become an alcoholic. She was too young for an addiction. Right? My grandfather’s words haunted my every thought on the drive back to my hotel and my dreams for weeks to come.
As I walked into the hotel lobby, I noticed the desk was unoccupied as I continued to the elevator and up to my room. When I approached the door, I pulled out my key card to slide it through. I opened the door and as I walked in I saw three tall and brawny men in the sitting area of my room. My chest rose in fear, I couldn’t feel my feet to run.
God no!
I jumped and simultaneously felt someone grab me from behind covering my mouth. I began screaming through my nose. I was going to die in Jersey!