White Lines (6 page)

The nineties in New York City were plagued by an out-of-control drug epidemic, and with police eager to stop the young hustlers from making a killing. But plenty of them were still getting dough. Shante and Jada tried to rub elbows with all of those types. They used their looks and flair for fashion, as well as Shame’s talent for stealing, and they gained access to all the biggest parties. It wasn’t hard for two young ladies in an error of excess to gain entry into the drug-induced fog of addiction.

But the drug use started to become evident in Jada’s appearance. She was strung out, and she looked it. Her face was sunken, her hair often uncombed. She rarely bothered to iron her clothes, or even to change them from day to day. Still she was in denial. She reasoned that she just had a little habit. Eventually, Charlie warned her that her mother had begun to notice the change in her appearance. He told her to clean up
her act, and Jada worried for a moment that he knew her secret. “Your mother thinks you’re losing too much weight. I told her you was probably on a diet, and that I think she should get off your case. But you need to stop upsetting your mother. You know what I’m saying?”

Jada nodded, and made an effort to keep her appearance intact. Shante was boosting. Jada told her that she wanted to learn how to do that, too. So one day Shante took Jada with her. She taught Jada how to take off an alarm, and that was it. Jada was stealing whatever she could steal. She did it all the time. She was enrolled in high school at the time, but hardly ever went. The only time she would go was when she had a new outfit that she knew would make the other bitches sick. Jada looked fierce every day, always one of the best dressed around the way. Her clothes were fabulous. She was making money to do what she wanted by stealing and running niggas’ pockets. She was still in school, coming into her mother’s house all hours of the day and night, dressed to kill and hiding a drug problem.

Edna noticed the change. Jada was thinner than she’d ever been, and wearing clothes that Edna hadn’t bought her. Her motherly instincts told her that something was amiss. She could feel it in her gut. But never one to really rock the boat, Edna questioned Jada about her weight loss only offhandedly. She didn’t want to spur Jada’s wrath. So in soft tones she would question, “Jada, those jeans used to be tight on you, right?” Jada would always react defensively, and Edna would always retreat. When Ava finally saw her sister she told Jada that she was concerned about her rapid weight loss, but Jada didn’t think it was a big deal. She had only been smoking crack for about a year. It wasn’t that bad. That’s what she told herself. She knew other people who were using, and she saw them maintaining. Jada figured she could do that, too.

When too many people raised their eyebrows at her weight loss, Jada made even more of an effort to stay presentable. She was a lovely young lady. Her long hair was natural. Her pretty face was chiseled, showing off a flawless bone structure that was enviable. To top it all off, she had the gift of gab. Jada had the ability to look a person in the eyes and make them feel as if all she was concerned with was them. She had a smile that
people yearned to be on the receiving end of. Jada was likable. And that made it all the easier for her to find new “friends.” It also made it easy for her to smile at and distract store security guards when she went to work.

“Work” is what Jada called the boosting she did to get the clothes and funds she needed to get high the way she wanted to. She got up every day with stealing on her mind. She soon became a compulsive thief. It got to the point where she would steal even when she didn’t need anything. It was an obsession. She enjoyed the rush of getting something nice for free and of using it to get money. She liked the high she was always rewarded with afterward, and the whole thing became a routine for her. And one that she rather enjoyed. Jada was giving her sister a lot of things, too. Ava was the recipient of bags of designer clothes, courtesy of her sister. Jada wondered if her sister knew what she was doing. And, indeed, Ava suspected that her sister was doing something shady to get all those things. But Ava loved the way nice clothes made her feel. So she didn’t rock the boat. They were in high school in a new borough, each with a gorgeous face, a nice figure, and the best outfits. Needless to say, she and her sister stood out.

On an afternoon in mid-August, Jada scoured the shelves in Victoria’s Secret and grabbed as many? and C cups as she could. She’d already gotten all the girls’ sizes around the way, and figured she could get rid of all of them for twenty dollars a pop at least. She was busily stuffing her bags. Yet she was so on point that she noticed the security guard watching her discreetly. She knew it was useless to put everything back. By the time she noticed the guard casually glancing at her, she realized that he had probably seen her stash half the store in her bag. She had a bag full of merchandise she’d stolen from other stores, but she wasn’t going to jail. In a flash, Jada ran like Flo-Jo, without a warning. By the time they realized that she had suddenly taken flight, they couldn’t catch up to her. She ran faster than she ever had in her life. Her heart raced as she ran down the escalator, bumping other shoppers and shoving people out of her way. She ran straight through the doors and through the parking lot. Mall security canvassed the area and radioed Jada’s description across the
airwaves. But Jada took off like a runaway slave. And a slave she was, indeed. To the very drug she thought she had control of.

After that she was scared to steal. Jada didn’t do it for a long time after that day. But she still had a jones for the crack, so she needed money. One afternoon, she went to Mr. Charlie and asked him for a favor.

“Can I borrow twenty dollars?” she asked, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She was thirsting to get high, and it was obvious.

Charlie gave it to her, no questions asked. “You don’t have to pay me back, either.” He put the money in her palm and held it for a couple extra moments. “You’re like a daughter to me.”

“Thanks, Mr. Charlie,” Jada said, smiling innocently. She went right away and copped upstairs. After she got her drugs she scurried out into the hallway; her next stop would be Shante’s apartment. But as she was coming out of Lucas’s apartment, she ran smack into Mr. Charlie.

“Oh. Hi,” Jada stammered. She didn’t know what he was doing on that floor, since he lived two floors down. But she was stunned and embarrassed that he had seen her coming out of there. Everybody in the hood knew that that was the drug spot. So Jada knew she was busted.

But to her surprise, he said, “I figured you’d be up here. Don’t be out here like one of these fiends, Jada. Don’t be smoking in the staircase and shit. Come downstairs and smoke at my place, where it’s safe.”

To say that Jada was shocked was an understatement. Her heart beat rapidly, and she was momentarily at a loss for words. So she silently followed him back to his apartment, and stood awkwardly in the living room once inside. Charlie shut the door and locked it, and he gestured toward his sofa. Jada sat down, and cleared her throat.

“I’m not about to smoke weed,” she began.

Charlie nodded. “I know what you’re smoking. Go ‘head. I won’t judge you.” Charlie went into the kitchen, leaving Jada alone. She sat there on his sofa, and smoked her woolah. Charlie let her have her space, and she sat and got high. When she was done, she felt slightly awkward.

“Umm,” Jada played with her hair, and barely met Charlie’s gaze. “I
don’t do this all the time, so I don’t have a problem. Thank you for not saying nothing to my mother. If it gets out of hand, I’ll stop—”

“Listen,” Charlie interrupted. “Everybody has their vices. Who am I to judge you for yours? But since I don’t wanna see your mother hurt, I’m trying to keep you from getting in trouble. You can’t be out there getting high off that shit in the stairways. Shante’s house is hot. Lucas’s dumb ass is up there every day, and the cops been looking at him for a while now. All your mother needs is to hear that you got arrested in a drug spot. If you wanna get high, you come here. I’d rather you do it where you’re safe.”

Jada nodded, grateful for his understanding. After that it was her routine. Jada was there every day, and Charlie let her handle her business. She would go home after school, and do what she had to do around the house in order to keep Edna quiet. Then she would go outside and cop, then head to Mr. Charlie’s apartment and smoke her woolahs. Soon the woolahs turned into straight crack pipes.

He never smoked with her, just watched her get high and go through her changes. Jada would bug out, talk to herself, sing, whatever the crack told her to do. Then she would come down and compose herself enough to go home.

Charlie was still seeing Jada’s mother throughout this period of time. He would come by every now and then, like usual. But he never let on that he knew her daughter was developing a very powerful addiction. And Edna never knew the secret between Charlie and Jada. And, as twisted as it was, Jada was grateful to Mr. Charlie for that. He kept her secrets.

1992

Charlie Harmon sat in his armchair, Al Green smoothly crooning “Let’s Stay Together” in the background, and he stared at seventeen-year-old Jada hungrily. He’d watched her get high for the thousandth time, and he knew she was twisted. He could tell by her restlessness, her silly face, her drowsy half smiles. He watched her tripping, waiting for the right time. All of a sudden she started rubbing her arms rapidly, as if she was trying to warm herself.

“What’s the matter, Jada? You cold?” he asked. “Let me help you out, sweetheart.”

She was twitching and laughing to herself. Then she started looking to either side of herself, picking at her shirt unnecessarily. But she was calm enough, in Charlie’s opinion. He inched closer to her, and sat beside her on the couch. “Let me warm you up.” Jada didn’t protest when he touched her.

She rocked back and forth, twisting a long strand of hair and staring blankly at Charlie. She wasn’t seeing him, though. Jada was some place far off in her mind. She looked around, trying to see the cloud on which the room appeared to be floating. She felt herself drifting, felt the whole world spinning, and she smiled. Her eyelids squinted, Jada hazily watched his hands come closer.

Charlie pulled her sweater up so slowly that Jada almost didn’t notice. She felt it all in slow motion and felt the air on her body as he sat back and looked at her black lace bra. Charlie unleashed her breasts and he stroked them. He seemed to know just how to make a woman melt, because Jada had never been caressed like that before. She smiled wider at the sensation, at the man stroking her perfectly. By her smile, he was encouraged. It seemed like every nerve in her body felt every sensation in the atmosphere at the same time. She felt a breeze across her skin, and her hairs stood on end. She felt his hands on her body, and was convinced that nothing felt better than what Charlie was doing to her at that moment.

“Ain’t this alright, Jada?” His breath felt warm against her face, and sent a tingle up her spine. She nodded, as he watched her facial expressions change. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s alright.”

Jada nodded, foggily. Then she was laughing, and moving around to a rhythm only she could feel. She nodded so slowly, her head rolling to the rhythm of Charlie’s fingertips. He licked and sucked her breasts, with his hands up her tiny skirt. Jada exhaled loudly.

Jada was dancing in her head, still twitchy and jumpy. But what his fingers were doing to her pussy was spellbinding. “Yeah.” He said it again. “It’s alright.” As crazy as it was, Jada fantasized that she was in control. She still would not admit that crack had her by the throat. Instead she watched him, smiling and thinking,
Look at this old muthafucka licking me. He knows he wants me and not my mother.
Charlie worked magic with his tongue. He toyed with her young pearl and didn’t stop until she bubbled over with pleasure. Jada was spent, having just loudly achieved the first orgasm of her life at the age of seventeen.

Charlie sat back and calmly stared at Jada’s young body. She sat in the same position he had left her, her leg propped up on the arm of the couch to reveal all of her goodies. Her bra was pulled up over her breasts; her sweater was bunched up as well. She sat there, high as ever, naked before Mr. Charlie.

He stood up and pulled down his pants. He looked at her, half naked and high, and smiled as he put himself inside the tightness of her young walls.

“Yeah,” he moaned in her ear, over and over.

Jada pulled back from him, as if uncomfortable. The thought of resisting him registered somewhere in the corner of her mind. But Charlie held her gently, and said, “It’s alright.” He held her thighs open, and she was still jumpy, but moaning. He stroked her slowly, enjoying each and every thrust. Jada didn’t protest, and she smiled, enjoying her high and the ride Mr. Charlie was taking her on. He knew he had her now. He stroked her until his old penis couldn’t hold out any longer. Charlie had sense enough to pull himself out and spill his seed on her stomach. Afterward, he sat beside her and caught his breath, his dick lying limp across his thigh.

Jada sat zoned out for a while, somewhere far away in her mind again. He watched her come down slowly, unaware, it seemed, of how perfect her body was. He gave her space until she was composed enough to go home. She never mentioned what had occurred. She simply washed herself off and fixed her clothes, and Charlie sent her on her way, knowing that she had what it took. She was young, and pretty, and had some tight pussy and a crack habit. He knew it wouldn’t be long before he turned her out.

Jada finally knew she was a crackhead, even though she hated the thought of it. She had always been the street-smart one—the tougher one of Edna’s daughters. Now she was someone weak enough to submit to an addiction. She was disappointed in herself and felt guilty for all that she had done. But that guilt didn’t outweigh the hunger she had to get high. Charlie was having sex with her on a regular basis, giving her drugs each time she came to see him. He dominated her, and seemed to enjoy making her feel good. She no longer had to go upstairs to cop. She got all that she needed right from Mr. Charlie’s wrinkled hands. She was his sex toy, doing whatever he wanted. Part of her felt comforted by her relationship with him. He was a father figure, and she was even turned on by the thought of calling him Mr. Charlie while she fucked him.