This wannabe “save the day fat overstuffed pig.” She actually feels she is better than I am with her patronizing talk. Does she not recognize where I came from? The best of the best, the cream of the crop. I came from a place that would annihilate her pompous magisterial ars. And here she is offering me and my child a place to stay in her ragged rustic home. With her tattered-up couch and broken-down dining room set; she got a nerve looking at me like I am some charity case.
And don’t get me started on Cheyenne that rag-a-muffin fumbled the ball. I had my plan set in motion how was I to identify a child molester all I was looking at was the bling. Well, I suppose it is ok that she ran off after that dim-wit drugged me? I know he medicated me because I do not drift off into dark slumbers after two sips of liquor. Humph, I can go two toes planted with any boozer or juicehead on the streets.
Psssh, I am wondering if that Yoyo accidentally doped himself. Actually, I was having different views of taking this girl from her dad out of spite. But how would that be equal retribution for the pain Trey dealt me? Isn’t it fair that he suffers and pays for the pain he so kindly doused on me?
Oh yes, I dropped a dime on that sucker with all those dope houses he planted like ghetto flowers. In retrospect, I had to take his precious jewel Yeah; I know he is going to figure it was me when it all is said and done. He thought I was someone he could slap around and work over like a common street chic. The domestic abuse charges did not stick when I pressed charges previously. They will maintain his hooligan tail this time. I provided names, locations, suppliers, and all the ingredients to stir the pot on the tip line. Emphasizing Trey Ramsey was the Top Dog.
“Angela, are you ready to head on over to Ingrid’s, I told her we were coming!”
“Girl, yes I am cocked and loaded and so ready to relax and breathe, no pun intended.” I could be comical when I need to be. I could charm the skin off of a snake and the stripes off of a zebra. Getting over this jolly dual-chinned cow would be simple as ABC.
Ingrid’s crib had some nice diggings. I peeped at her style; she had her trailer flossy. “She can clean it up, but underneath she’s still trailer trash.” Her trailer home sported a terrace, and exquisite decor marked by flawless craftsmanship. It inspired me to level up my thinking if I have to be held captive in the gawd awful trash barrel.
I wonder how dark of a trail her path leads. I intended to find out; it looks like I and Ingrid will become compadres.
“Well, Ingrid, as you may have heard this is the latest casualty of Mr. Willie. Angela just wants to get her mind off of the dog day afternoon she had. She is kicking it with me at my home until her unit is available tomorrow.” Ester spoke smugly.
This woman really thinks she is somebody’s hero. Soon she will see that she is just a pond in The Master manipulator’s game and I don’t play fair. I don’t play for fun. I play to win.
“Oh, Angela, I know that must have been bat crazy for you just to just think about what could have happened to your poor little girl!” Ingrid gasp. “I do not know how you restrained yourself from slitting his throat from ear to ear.” Ingrid spat.
“Tssst, this type of thing is strong sad, and kinda karma Karnage; Don’t yall think.” Miss Ester chimed in her opinion.
I know this Twinkie-eating, beer-belching, jelly-belly; pork chukker did not just self-righteously give me judgment in my hour of sorrow.
“Excuse you, Miss holier than thou. You don’t know what I’ve been through to be saying this evil was my predestination.” I retaliated.
“Whhhhat, you talkin’, I am speaking on the judgment Mr. Willie is about to get passed down on him for what he been doin’.” Miss Ester perverted.
“We ain’t gotta trash talk about that dimwit. Yawl’s life could have been rerouted for the worse. So, we are gonna speak gratefulness and to the glory we are indebted.” Ingrid evangelized while rolling a blunt.
“Oh, but God. Somebody was praying for yall fo sho’. You gotta take heed Miss Angela for the devil comes to kill, steal and destroy, and you tumbled right into his trap.” Ester once again condemns me to the abyss. If the judgment was made of blubber, then yeah, she held the trump card.
“Thank you, miss loud mouth broke back mountain. I appreciate your hospitality, but I done had enough of those fiery darts for one night. No need to be dousing people with shame and sprinkling hellfire. If you truly believed in God, you would spread love.”
“I mean no harm my words are coming out twisted.” Ester tried to explain. “Heck, I already invited you to stay in my home and your little girl is safe there as we speak.
“Mhmm.” I wonder just how good these two would be for me. Only time will tell the genuine goodness of their hearts. I attend to suck the sweetness out of these two succulent suckers.
It was fun laughing at Ester's antics she was actually hilarious. I could admit she had a good heart letting me in and all. Ingrid is just as entertaining but in a ghetto fabulous kind of way. The way she narrated her stories was so in the moment, you felt the emotions point by point. I shared a pinch of the truth about my beautiful home, my one-day fiancé, and my daughter.
No need to let on I was literally the devil Ester spoke of. Just goes to show people preach a wonderful sermon, but they ain’t watchers. Well, Ester was reading my hand and not taking my bluff. That got me all riled up and in a twist.
“So, what’s up now? I mean what are your plans now that you have dodged two deadly bullets?” Ingrid was being intrusive.
“I will figure it out in the morning. Ain’t no sane thoughts gonna find its way in this traffic jam.” I looked around Ingrid’s space and got a grand idea. Since she was in my business, let's make her a part of my executive decision-making.
“My head is in such a fog, I need more Scrilla, get Cheyenne in a school, and Lawd don’t get me thinking too hard about furnishing my place.” I played the sympathy card.
“You alright girlfriend, I will take you down to the welfare office so you can get some emergency food stamps, a little money, and medical benefits.” Esther offered her route to salvation.
“Bahahaha! Girllllll please, I ain’t about to get on nobody's welfare system. I am still a Queen and I will absolutely not bow down to living like a peasant girl.” That foolery offended me.
“Why not? You have nothing else, that’s what you say. Do you plan to make more poor decisions or use the help designed to lift you up while you are down?” Big Ester chopped those big lips of hers.
“You wait one minute….!”
“She's right Angela, I mean think about it. You can calibrate your side hustle. I’ve been doing it for a while now. I get petty cash and food stamps, plus I grind and work part-time at the hotel to show I am a progressive citizen.”
“Ugh, I don’t know yall, it is so not me.” I stalled a little longer they had me at free. Lawd knows I am gonna need extra for my habits. They were right I had to be legit. I know Trey didn’t file a missing person because he didn’t know that I left the state as yet.
“You can still look fly as you are, ride the system for your little girl, plus, I will hook you up with some furniture I got the homie hookup.” Ingrid ran her hand through her short, curly hair and fired up another blunt.
“I ain’t trying to be greedy but, can you hook me up with some clothes too?” I asked helplessly, knowing I was going to get my way. Well, I always do.
“Sounds like gluttony to me,” Ester stated as she inhaled.
“Yeah, downright piggish if you ask me.” Ingrid threw her two cents in as we all laughed.
‘I mean, I ain’t saying she is a gold digger…..” Ingrid began singing, and we all cracked up. If it weren’t for liquor and weed, I would be fanatically challenged.
I thought I would find a man effortlessly. There I was with two heckling hens. Actually, I was enjoying myself; I was just being too stubborn to admit it. This was not my idea of how my story was going to play out. But I was only in the first chapter of my new beginnings. My money was lower than a corpse in its grave. I only hustled a few hundred dollars at the truck stop, offering my sacred garden for some gas and a meal.
I caused this wretched life filled with hopelessness. Gratefulness found no place in me. I was unfaithful, abusive, and materialistic. Today's kids would say I was a thirst trap starved for attention however I had more than enough, a beautiful home, a successful man, and envied by every floozy that landed their eyes my way. And I might as well confess it all; I am a horrible mother.
There I said it, will I ever own up to it, or will I continue to play the victim to the things that make me so miserable? I know my daughter is frightened to death of me; it is nothing to brag about, however; it gives me a feeling of control. Somehow, I know without a shadow of a doubt Cheyenne will grow up to get her revenge.
“What are you over there daydreaming about? It is going to be alright? Here, take a shot of this whiskey. Ester and I don’t go in for work tomorrow, and we will help you get in your trailer home.” Ingrid spoke, however, her voice seemed like a faraway echo.
What have I done? Lawd, help me.
“Thank yall, I am so grateful to both of you. I admit I was talking foolish before. I was humiliated, everybody was judging my mistakes.” Truth was, I couldn’t give a care about not one of those washed-out hoboes who smelt like trash.
“Honey, I will rather be respected than someone thinking of me unlearned. You gotta start thinking about appearances.” Ester threw her worthless comment out there where it would never be caught. Believe me, she will definitely catch these hands with a one-to-punch to those yacking lips. I swear this woman does not know when to stop.
“Humph sounds like some ghetto gangsta stuff to me. Is that what you are, one of those rides or die chicks? You want your appearance to outweigh your substance as a mother?” Ingrid accused.
“Excuse me, Sister Marry and Mother Teresa; I know yall two hypocrites are not making assumptions about my plight. Ingrid, I ain’t naïve, I know you ain’t paid for this high-quality furniture because you told me your scam with the plastic cards, ok?”
“Ester, Ester, Ester, let me guess your husband had the fear of God in you and you are actually happy that he is in jail so you could breathe and be yourself. Isn’t it freeing not to have to be at someone's beck-and-call every hour of the day? Am I right?” I winked. I knew it was true. She had weakness dripping through her pores..
Ester was only being friendly because she wanted to be somebody’s hero. The type that makes themselves feel good by taking victory over someone else’s struggle. I decided I am going to let her, because I need someone to watch that brat, Cheyenne.
Getting high and intoxicated is a taught lesson picked up by my inebriated parents. They received a check from the government for me, but I did not see a dime. To get clothes, I had to dumpster dive into the donation bins where people placed the clothes they no longer wanted. The neighbors will come by and offer me some hand-me-downs of their older children when they see me looking like an orphanage girl.
Cheyenne is a spoiled, entitled brat who grew up with everything handed to her. Trey never had her clean up her own messes. Nope, she had it good. When I was only 4 years old, my mother and stepdad used to make me clean up all their filth from their night of partying. That included things such as soiled clothes and vomit on the rug or outside the door.
Come to think of it, I told myself that if I ever had kids, I would be a great mom. Go figure. I treat Cheyenne in the exactness of how my parents treated me.
“The things we fear the most have come among us.”
What type of parent buys her daughter's secondhand clothing and rewards herself with designer wear? In fact, she hardly said phrases to me. She would snap at me and Miss Esters’ daughters if we were too rowdy. Angela would flag me away, or speak brief sentences like “do it yourself, or I am running out.”
The blue couch she bought for the mobile home was lovely to look at, however, it was as uncomfortable as bricks. The wall décor was appealing but was Walmart cheap? Daddy would buy our furniture off the showroom floor, all in one wop. He did not need lackies, thieves, or hustlers, his bankroll was always fat.
I was aware I din’ t honestly perceive what insane was, somehow, I perceived Angela was certified and qualified to the letter. She gave up a way of life she did not have to pay for to struggle in this trailer park. She self-sabotaged her course into weeds and thorns because that is where she credited herself comfortable. Why she had to drag me with her? I learned quickly misery loves company.
When Angela abandons me and flies out on her frequent dates, she would oblige me to hang with Miss Ester; most times she would come over to our trailer home because Angela discovered some Illegal means to get cable. Lyric and Jovan would see Disney movies in my room, while Miss Ester and Ingrid would look at drama shows while they drank their wine and smoked their bizarre-smelling cigarettes. They questioned me often on the sly about my home activities with Daddy.
“Daddy only allowed me with Angela. He never left me alone.”
“So, your dad never had you alone in the evenings by yourself?” Miss Ingrid's eyebrows lifted.
“Yes, I was alone a lot, but not from Daddy. He watched over me like a Hawk.” I innocently search their expressions, ranging from slow acknowledgment to horrific revelation. “It was Angela that would leave me behind in the middle of the night by myself. That is why daddy kicked her out.
Maybe now they will fall deep into Angela’s shadowy past.
Angela was not a friend to either of them she did not have the bandwidth to be kind. The difference between Miss Ester and Miss Ingrid was that Miss Ingrid was as extreme on the wild side as Angela. But she had a genuine heart for everyone. Miss Ester looked out for us 3 girls. I felt special with the two new ladies in my life and my monster mom couldn't care less of the consideration they devoted to me, although she feigned to be indebted every day.
“Could we go out and play now that we finished eating and doing our chores?” Jovan burst into the living cave, interrupting the unspoken notions of Miss Ester and Miss Ingrid.
“Sure, yall could go on out and play, but just for a bit, it’s leading to be dark soon!” Miss Ester instructed.
“I will be out in a minute I have to get off my sandals,” I yelled.
I rushed into the room, eagerly putting on my tennis shoes because I hated to miss fun times. It was the only thing that got my mind off of my actual situation.
“Girl, I knew something was mysterious about Angela, the way she consistently leaves that young woman behind to go trickin’ with every knucklehead dude in this town, just trifflin’.”
“Mmm hmmm, I felt it too. I just didn’t choose to be messy, but that poor little young lady literally jumps when Angela moves anywhere near her. I assumed I was imagining matters, but think about it; If Cheyenne’s father beat her and neglected her so badly, what would cause a so-called parent to escape her every single time?”
“I don’t understand, but I am speculating if Cheyenne is her girl at all.”
“Now you talk foolish. If she wasn’t her girl, then that would establish Angela as a kidnapper.” Ingrid described it incredibly. “The police previously talked to her, then why hasn’t anyone reported her missing?”
“Who claims they didn’t?”
“Cheyenne, what you doing back there?” Miss Ingrid demanded. I was in the hallway, listening with hope piercing my heart. I promptly tiptoed to the back, taking off my right sneaker and throwing it under the bed.
“I repeat what are you doing, Hun?” Ingrid surfaced in the area. I crawled under the bed, grabbing the tennis shoe I just flipped under the bed.
“Found it.” I expressed as I pulled the sneaker from under the bed.
Miss Ingrid stared at me with brown, piercing eyes briefly. “How are you doing now that you are settling here in an unfamiliar state?”
“I miss my dad; I miss my home and my friends and I prefer to go back but Angela won’t let me.” My intentions were to let enough out without announcing Angela as a kidnapper, as they will estimate that fact out on their own.
“Angela?” Miss Ester appeared in the area where I was now sitting on her daughter's dented bed that leaned over slightly to the right from wear and tear over the ages.
“You call your mom by her original name kid?” Miss Ester provided a “shame on you” expression.
“Only because she doesn’t approve of me calling her mom. She claims the term cramps her style. Can I run outside now?”
Please, God, let them help me get back to my dad.
I dashed outside to join the other kids playing kickball on the weeded grass. I took part with immense enthusiasm. My Freedom Day is coming, I kept repeating Oh God, please put mercy on those two women. Oh please, make them do what they know to do that is good in your sight.
Deafening music blasted, echoing bass in the courtyard. A black shiny Drop top Mustang drove slowly through the parking area, stopping amid the driveway. I glanced over in curiosity. I see Angela sashaying her ugly self from the car. She leaned over the driver’s window, exposing herself unashamedly. Slowly, she gave this strange man a sloppy wet kiss on his mustache mouth.
It is a different guy almost every week she shows up with. Today the mustang, the last time the pickup truck, the month before that it was a Cadillac man, and so on.
“What did my dad notice about this nympho?” I pondered.
I sprinted over to the other part of the field chasing down the freckled face boy who strategically stole the ball from me.
“Cheyenne, get your things we are moving?” The Evil one squawked.
My soul went numb. Being a prisoner of Evalina was tiresome and despairing.