Every Woman Needs a Wife (22 page)

“Brandi, get her out of there,” he nearly shrieked. “I want to come home! I’m thirty-five years old and back at my Mama’s.”

“You can come home anytime you like, Vernon.” She eased onto the sofa, slipping off her heels and giving her tired feet a much-needed rub. “I’m not stopping you. No one’s stopping you.”

“I’m not coming home as long as
she’s
there.”

“Then I suggest you get used to your mom’s, my brother. ’Cause I’m enjoying my wife. Did you know she could make crème brûlée, cheese soufflé, and a mean pan of macaroni and cheese—with four cheeses? I may never pick up a skillet again.” Then she grinned, allowing a sly tone into her voice. “I wonder what else she’s good at?”

“You’re crazy,” he growled. “Get that woman away from around my children!”

“You didn’t have a problem with it before, so don’t have a problem with it now.” Brandi signaled Tanya to pick up the extension. “Where’s Sierra?”

Vernon took a long, slow breath before asking, “Where’s my car?”

“I will climb through this phone and put an extra hole in your ass,” Brandi warned.

“Send your
wife
out to find her,” he said in a huff.

“I’m not playing with you, Vernon.”

His tone became hard and mean. “Neither am I. Get Tanya out and I’ll do what I can to bring Sierra home.”

Brandi stood, wishing she could put a vise grip on his nose. “Negro, are you crazy? Holding my daughter hostage!”

“You’re holding
me
hostage!” he shrieked. “I can’t come home.”

“No, you
won’t
come home, there’s a difference,” she shot back. “Our children have nothing to do with that.”

“Get her out and we’ll talk.”

Brandi slammed down the phone, glaring at Simone, was hiding behind Tanya. “I should whip your little tail.”

Tanya reached a hand out to cover the girl. “Maybe I should leave.”

“I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction,”

Brandi answered on her way out Brandi grabbed her old coat from the closet, slipped on some sneakers, and ran straight out the door.

She drove around scouting for her little girl, wondering if Vernon was telling the truth. She wondered if some maniac somewhere was hurting her child. The more she drove through the dark, empty streets, the more her chest tightened; her breathing became heavy and labored. She recognized the signs of what could be a panic attack coming on although she had never had one of those before, even on the day when she had every right.

♥♥♥

Hollywood and his crew were hot on her heels. Each time Brandi’s foot slammed against the pavement, more tears sprang from her eyes. If they caught her, they’d rape her, then they might kill her. That thought alone made her overlook the burning in her chest, the pain shooting up her spine. She had run for three blocks and could still hear them pounding the concrete right behind her. She didn’t even remember dropping her book bag.

“Catch that bitch!”

As they ran past a group of apartment buildings some of the boys from Hollywood’s block trickled away, but to her dismay even more boys from other blocks joined the chase. Tears blurred her vision, but she couldn’t wipe them away. She needed her hands to propel her body forward; each pump of her arms increased her speed. “Lord, please let me make it to safety.” Wherever safety happened to be.

She cut across a lawn, through the pathway of an old church, slipped between two brick houses, hopped the broken chain-link fence, landed in a mound of old tires, scrambled over a pile of garbage, picked herself up, and kept running. She glanced quickly over her shoulder. Only a few boys left. She had won the hundred-meter dash last month, but with her legs aching like someone had put a match to them and her lungs feeling like they would collapse any minute, she wondered—could she shake them?

She hopped another fence, ran between more houses, and cut through an alley, before coming out on a traffic-lined street. She stopped when the burning in her chest wouldn’t let her run anymore. Her legs tingled as though they had fallen asleep. She plastered her body next to a building. The cold brown bricks were warmer than the fear chilling her heart. Her breathing came fast and furious. Why didn’t she think? She should have listened to her mother.

Her mother had told her about keeping her virginity until she was married or at least until she was old enough to understand her body and emotions. Now, if she couldn’t get out of God knew where she was now—she would pay for not listening.

Wet, salty tears streamed down Brandi’s face. She’d give anything for her mother to be with her right now. She knew only her mother could get her out of this place. Would her mother love her anymore? Would her mother forgive her?

All thoughts ceased and her legs trembled as she heard Hollywood’s car inching down the block. The music was almost as loud as the heartbeat slamming against her chest. The backseat was filled with boys; more were riding on the hood, others on top of the trunk. About twenty altogether—all looking for her.

Brandi couldn’t move. She closed her eyes tight, held her breath, and hugged the brick wall like it was a friend. Her lips trembled. So did her legs. She had never been so scared in her life.

Several minutes later, she opened her eyes and saw that the car had passed. Brandi ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. Sweat dripped from her forehead and onto her turtleneck. Her deodorant had long since given up its secret and wet spots formed under her arms. How could she have been so stupid? How could she think that he would love her and marry her one day like he promised? Very few boys married their high school sweethearts anyway. And Hollywood was far from being sweet or having a heart for that matter. Why didn’t she see that before?

She scanned left, then right. Hollywood crept by, stopping at the corner. Another car filled with boys hovered at the end of the alley. She was trapped.

“Well, what do we have here?”

Brandi jumped, and then turned to see an old, wrinkled man, with dark, weathered skin and a big grin looking down at her.

Her throat was parched. She couldn’t open her mouth to speak.

The man pointed toward Hollywood. “Your ride, gurlie?”

Brandi could only shake her head.

“How ’bout them fellas back there?” He gestured to the alley.

Brandi shook her head again.

“Hmmm.” He watched both sets of boys for a minute. “Seems like you’re in a bit of jam, missy”

Brandi nodded, gasping for air.

“Anybody you’d like to call to come get you?”

“My,” she said in a breathy whisper, “mother.”

“All right, follow me. You can use my phone.”

Her heart almost leapt. Saved!

She followed him through the neat yard, past a bright green shed, and up the steps, but she hesitated at the door. His white shirt and green pants were neat and pressed. He seemed okay. The scent of cloves wafted outside.

The man smiled. “I don’t have one of them fancy, um, cordless things. So it can’t come to you. You’ll have to come inside.”

She glanced back at Hollywood’s crew and then to the other boys on the opposite side of the clearing.

“Oh, you ain’t got to worry ’bout them. They ain’t coming in here. They knows not to mess wit’ me.”

The back door stayed open so she could leave at any time. That was some small comfort.

For a few seconds she stood calming herself and willing her fear to go away. Then she ran, snatched the dark gray handset and put it to her ear. The dial tone never sounded so good.

The man touched her hand, prying the phone away from her trembling fingers. “You can make your call, but there’s something we need to talk about first…”

Every bit of hope vanished as she looked up into his face. A glint of something wicked flashed in his eyes. Had she just gone from one evil to another?

He gripped her shoulder, but she pulled away. A voice from a talk station filtered in from an old radio next to his chair.

“All I have to do is yell out dis here window and the boys’ll be after ya again.” He started breathing faster. “Daddy just needs a lil’ attention and then you can go…”

Brandi sobbed, her shoulders heaving as he gave her hand a pat. Disappointment surged in her soul.

The man unzipped his pants, pulling out an old wrinkled penis, stroking it like a long-lost friend. “Just want you to suck it. Dat’s all. Not like what dem boys want to do.”

She stared at him. He was kidding, right? Brandi hesitated, fighting nausea. The man turned his head, yelling, “Hey!”

Brandi shrieked, “No! I’ll do it.”

She reached out to put her hand on such an ugly-looking thing. “No!” She jerked it back, then glanced up at the back door. Maybe if she ran, she could hop a few more fences and outdistance the boys. But could she take that chance? Her legs were so tired, so weary.

The man grinned as Brandi finally dropped to her knees, landing on
the wooden floor with a solid thud. She barely hung on to breakfast. As she leaned in, the musky scent of his penis assaulted her nose. The hairs around it were gray and hard. She shivered with disgust.

“Come on, now, put your lips on Daddy…”

Brandi opened her mouth a little and nearly passed out from the smell. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over onto her turtleneck, some landing on the wooden floor. Suddenly, an image of her mother loomed in front of her, followed by feelings of shame and helplessness.

He turned his head glancing out the window. “And they’re still out there, too.” Then he grinned at Brandi. “But see, Daddy’s keeping you safe, right?”

Safe? He called a mouthful of his nasty penis safe? Brandi stared ahead, her heart hammering against her chest, butterflies circling a morbid dance in her stomach. “Can I go now? I don’t want to call nobody. I just wanna go.” Was that her voice? That little pipsqueak of a sound? Jesus, she was scared.

Brandi whimpered as she turned her head, and threw up in the plant next to the chair. Most of it landed on the floor.

“Oh, you gonna pay for that, girl. You gonna pay.” He yanked at her jeans. “Now pull dem panties down.”

She didn’t move.

“I said, pull ’em down, Gurl!”

Slowly, she pulled up from the floor, and trudged to the man. She glanced quickly out the window and saw Hollywood and his friends still waiting for her. God, what else would she have to do for this man, before he let her call her mother?

She turned back to the man. His face had suddenly darkened beyond recognition.

Slowly Brandi pulled down the little cotton coverings. The man didn’t even wait until she finished. He reached out, grabbing at her vagina as though picking ripe fruit.

Her voice quivered. “Please don’t do this.”

He stopped and glowered at her. “Well, you gotta choice. All dem boys out there. Or lettin’ me—just one man—touch it.”

She didn’t say a word.

“Now I wasn’t gonna touch ya, but you done gone and messed up my clean floor. Took me three hours on my knees. It’s gone take me some time to get it right. I figure you’ll be gone by then so you gotta give me sumthin’ for my troubles. I’m protectin’ you, Gurl.”

With that, he gripped her hips. She stared blankly ahead, closing her eyes against another wave of nausea. He guided her to his rigid member.

“See, dat’s not so bad, now is it?”

Brandi couldn’t utter a word even if she wanted.

He reached out, pulling her pants and panties all the way down to her ankles in one swipe. The cool air blowing from outside brushed against her bare buttocks.

“Just touch your pussy to the head. That’s all. It’s been a long time since Daddy had a little touch of sweet young pussy.”

She pulled back. “I could get pregnant.”

“I’m too old to get you pregnant! Now quit that shit.”

Brandi cried as she peered over her shoulder. “You could give me some type of disease.”

“I ain’t got no diseases.” His wrinkled face had taken on a murderous scowl. “Now quit makin’ excuses and do what I tell you!”

Brandi sobbed, putting her hands up to her face.

The man lowered his voice. “I’m sorry for yelling. Just sit on Daddy’s lap for a minute, and ride it on the outside, like a broomstick. That’s all. I promise I won’t try and put it in.”

He pulled her down. His weathered old penis grazed her pubic hairs. Her body shook with anger and fear. Suddenly his hands gripped her shoulders, bringing her all the way down onto his lap.

“Now just move it back and forth on the outside, ridin’ it like I told ya.”

Brandi sobbed. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Gurl, I ain’t asking for much. It ain’t gonna hurt you none. Just ride it a little, that’s all. It ain’t like the young boys ain’t done it before.”

She’d never allowed anyone to touch her, but could she tell him that? Would he believe her?

Brandi inched forward on the outside of his penis, it slipped back, then he pushed forward again—still outside of her body. She was grateful that
he hadn’t asked to put it in. She didn’t want to give her virginity to Hollywood. She definitely didn’t want her first time to be an ugly, nasty old man.

As he pumped forward and back, he whimpered like a wounded animal. He reached for the glass of water next to him; the cool water soon hit her vagina and his penis.

“That’s right, gurlie. It’s so good, gurlie. Ahhhh, yes, good Gurlie,” he moaned

Brandi stared ahead and saw a picture of Jesus and the twelve disciples watching every move. She cried as the Savior swam in and out of focus.
Make this stop, Lord
. But this was one prayer. He wouldn’t answer.

“Awww, gurlie.” The man reached out with his clammy hands, and thrust them under her turtleneck to fondle her breasts. He pinched her nipples so hard she cried out. He continued pushing her body back and forth on him, moving her the way he wanted. His head buried into her back, gripping her, holding her close as though she were a newfound lover.

The she felt a sharp pain searing through her vagina. She bucked, trying to get away, he held her firmly in place. “I’m sorry, Gurlie, it’s just so good.”

Then he reached down and parted her thighs even wider. “It’s just too good. Too good. I just wanna put the head in a little.”