Promise Broken, page 5
She snorted. “It ain’t gotten me nowhere thus far,” Mouse said.
“That’s because you ain’t had the proper push in the right direction. That ain’t no fault of your own, it’s more the company you keep,” Abdul said in his best scholarly tone.
“But I don’t be around nobody but Promise, Keys, and maybe a few others that I know from the hood,” Mouse informed him.
“I don’t really know Promise so I can’t judge her. Your boy Keys? Don’t even get me started. And yeah, yeah, you hang around a few other people from the neighborhood who might be pretty cool, but how many of them are about a dollar?” he asked. He didn’t wait for her to answer before continuing. “Everybody you out here runnin’ with is living off the mercies of somebody else, or hand to mouth. You know what they say about if you spend all your time around nine broke niggas?”
“You’ll be number ten,” Mouse said, finishing the line. She didn’t know where the quote had originated, but she figured she’d picked it up from someone’s Instagram stories.
“So, you see my point?” Abdul continued. “Mouse, a man in my position could use a young, streetwise chick like you on his team.”
“I appreciate it, Ab, but I ain’t built to move no heroin,” Mouse told him. She had her little scams and licks where she toed the line of the law to get by, but the level that Ab was playing it brought time and consequences.
“We got one hundred mules and corner works, Mouse. Those come a dime a dozen. What I need is girls that I can trust enough to keep close. Nothing too heavy, just little shit here and there where a female would draw less attention than a male. I can’t promise to make you rich at that level, but it’ll keep you from having to ask a muthafucka when you need something.”
It was a tempting offer and God knew that the consistent cash flow would help. With her and Junie having to depend on Max, there was never any telling how they would make it from one day to the next. The idea of getting tied up with Ab and his crew wasn’t very appealing, but the prospect of starving was even less so. “A’ight,” she agreed in her whispery voice.
“Good girl,” Abdul said, nodding in approval. “Don’t worry about nothin’. I’m gonna school you on everything before bringing you in. In the beginning, I’m gonna need you to play me real close, ya heard?” He draped his arm around her.
“Okay, and thanks. I won’t let you down, Ab,” Mouse promised.
“Of this, I’m sure,” Ab confirmed.
Mouse sat with Ab going over a few more minor details. What he was asking of her didn’t sound hard at all. In fact, this would probably be the easiest money she ever earned. When the first blunt was done, Ab offered to roll another one, but Mouse declined. “My little sister is still waiting on me.”
“Right, family first,” Ab agreed.
“You can drop me at the crib, but if you’re free tomorrow then maybe—”
“You remember when I said earlier about me landing in the pussy always being a stop on the destination?” Abdul began massaging the back of her neck.
“But, Ab . . . my sister . . . .” Mouse reminded him. She was trying to pull away, but he had a firm grip on the back of her neck.
“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna keep you out too long. As a matter of fact, you ain’t even gotta take your clothes off.” Abdul undid his pants and pulled out his thick, hard penis, and guided her head into his lap.
CHAPTER 6
In her seventeen years on this planet, Promise couldn’t remember having ever been that tired. Adelle had kept true to her word by making Promise work off the debt she felt she owed. She started her in the kitchen, wiping down the stove, countertops and cleaning out the inside of the refrigerator. She next had her do the bathroom, including getting on her hands and knees with a toothbrush and scrubbing between all the tiles, including the ones behind the toilet. If that wasn’t harsh enough, she sent Promise down to the basement of the house, which doubled as a storage area for all the units. It had to have been years since anyone had been in that basement.
Promise ended up with cobwebs all in her hair, and accidentally picked up a mummified mouse that she thought was a clump of dust. “Ewwww!” she yelled in disgust. It was nearly five in the morning before Promise was finished with everything. She shuffled into her bedroom, eyes half-closed, and collapsed on her bed. She was asleep within minutes.
She had a strange but pleasant dream while she slept. She was ten years old and out on a picnic with her mother. She was sitting on a plaid blanket, where her mother made sandwiches while little Promise was blowing on a dandelion. A man appeared in the distance. The sun was at his back, so Promise had to shield her eyes and squint against the glare. He was a white man with curly hair and auburn eyes—the same eyes that stared back at Promise through the mirror every day. She knew without her mother having to tell her who the man was. She ran to him as fast as her little legs would carry her and jumped into her father’s arms. He hugged her so tight that she thought she would burst. She inhaled deeply of his scent. He smelled like wildflowers and happiness. She wished that her aunt Dell could’ve been there to see that day. The same day she said would never come. Her mother had named her Promise to honor the pledge her father made to one day come and reclaim his family, and in the dream, he had finally made good on it.
“Bitch, I know you ain’t still sleeping?”
Promise wasn’t sure which came first: the bellowing voice of her aunt, which was what ruined the dream, or the sting of the open hand slap that landed across her face, which woke her up from the dream. As the fog of sleep rolled back from her brain she could feel the throbbing in her cheek begin to intensify. She knew without even seeing her face that it would be bruised. Bruises weren’t new to her. She’d just have to see if she could find some cheap concealer at the pharmacy to cover it. She was good at hiding bruises, at least the ones on the outside.
“Don’t just lay there giving me that dumb-ass look, say something!” Adelle shouted at Promise.
“What I do now?” She had done all the chores Adelle had assigned her the night before, so why on earth would she be waking her up so early? The question got her another slap.
“I know you ain’t getting smart?” Adelle glared down at Promise with her fists balled against her beefy hips. Promise opened her mouth to reply, but thought better of it and swallowed her words. “I told your simple-minded ass to take the garbage out last night before you went to sleep, and I woke up to an overflowing trash can!”
“Auntie, you told me to wash the dishes and you told Brianna to take the trash out,” Promise reminded her.
“Well, if you saw that she didn’t do it then you should’ve made sure it got done. Most of that shit is yours anyhow, bunch of snack wrappers and ice cream containers. You ain’t gonna be satisfied until you’re three hundred pounds!” Adelle snapped. “Now get your yellow ass up and get dressed.”
“Why do I have to get dressed to put the trash in the can? It’s just right outside?” Promise asked, rubbing the spot on her cheek where Adelle had struck her again. She wasn’t sure which one hurt worse.
“And when you’re done with the trash, I need you to go to the store and get me a pack of cigarettes!”
“Okay, Aunt Dell. Let me throw some clothes on and do something with this hair and I’ll go get your cigarettes.” Promise raked her fingers through what was once a long and beautiful head of hair. It was Adelle who had made her cut it. She claimed that Promise’s hair was getting too long and the upkeep of having to go to the salon every few weeks was getting too expensive. Since Promise didn’t have a job to contribute anything, Adelle felt like she didn’t have a say, even though it was her hair. When Promise refused, Dell had waited until she went to sleep and cut Promise’s hair in several places. It looked so crazy that Promise no longer had a choice. She cried like a baby watching her beautiful brown curls fall to the floor as the beautician hacked away. For the first few weeks she refused to leave the house without wearing a hat. Now that it was growing back she wasn’t so embarrassed by her new hairdo.
“Ain’t nobody got time for all that. By the time you get that mop together I could’ve gone and gotten them myself,” Adelle told her.
“Then why don’t you?” Promise mumbled while pulling on her sweatpants.
“What did you say?” Adelle grabbed a fist full of Promise’s short cut, sending sparks of pain through her scalp.
“Stop it, Auntie, you’re hurting me!” Promise cried out. It felt like Adelle was pulling out what hair she had left from the roots.
“Bitch, I’ll be in here killing you if you keep popping fly with your mouth. Now get your mutt-ass outta here and get me my cigarettes,” she said, shoving Promise toward the door.
Promise wanted to break down and cry, but if she let her tears go then her rage might follow and that wouldn’t be good for either of them. Ever since her mother was killed and she had been sent to live with her aunt and her bad kids, they had been trying to break her spirits. They had come close, but she wouldn’t let them. No matter how badly they abused her body, Promise held onto her spirit. It was all she had left and they weren’t welcome to it. Licking her internal wounds, Promise shuffled down the hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face before going to fetch her aunt’s cigarettes.
As soon as Promise stepped out of the bedroom she found her cousin Brianna, standing in the hallway ear-hustling as usual. Brianna was dark-skinned with long silky hair and an almost perfect smile. Adelle and Medicaid had spent a grip on that smile. Brianna looked more like Promise’s mother than she did, which the girl made sure to mention whenever she got a mind to just piss off Promise. She was Adelle’s pride and joy, which gave her diplomatic immunity for all the bullshit she pulled around the house. Adelle lived vicariously through Brianna, trying to capture the childhood that she had been denied, but was given so freely to her sister Fatima.
“Damn, I heard that slap all the way out here.” Brianna grinned mischievously. She and Promise were only a year apart, but Brianna acted like a child and plucked her nerves every chance she got.
“She slapped me for you not taking the garbage out! Why would you leave the garbage piling up knowing that she was gonna go ballistic when she saw it?”
Brianna sucked her perfect teeth. “Please, that garbage bag had chicken grease and all kinda shit on it, and I had just got my nails done. I wasn’t touching that.”
“Well, I wish you’d told your mom that before she tried to get Muhammad Ali on me!” Promise snapped.
Brianna just laughed. “Promise, stop bitching. That wasn’t nothing but a love tap. Besides, with as many fights as you get into, I’d think you would be able to take a hit by now.”
“And the majority of the fights are over you! If you’re not mouthing off to someone, you’re trying to sleep with their men!” Promise countered. She had had more than a few fistfights with girls over her cousin Brianna’s bullshit. Brianna was one of those girls that loved to start drama, but couldn’t fight, so Promise always had to step in for her.
“It ain’t my fault because these bitches can’t hold onto what’s supposed to be theirs.” Brianna flipped her hair. “And you’re just hating because all the boys want me and you just look like one of the boys!”
“Fuck you!” Promise shouted, advancing on Brianna. She was testing Promise, and she wasn’t in the mood for it.
“Don’t be raising your voice like you pay bills in here, bitch!” Adelle shouted from down the hall.
“Yeah, watch your tone in my mama’s house, Promise,” Brianna taunted her.
Promise was tempted to slap the shit out of Brianna but knew that would lead to her having to fight the whole house so she let it go. “You know what? I ain’t got time for this,” she bumped past her little cousin.
“That’s what the fuck I thought!” Brianna called after her.
Promised ignored her and slammed the bathroom door, which drew another outburst from her aunt. She moved to the mirror and checked her face. There was a raised red mark from the wake-up slap, but thankfully it hadn’t bruised. At least not yet. She dropped her pants and sat down on the toilet. As she relieved her full bladder, her eyes roamed over the chipped tiles on the floor. Beyond the bathroom door she could hear Adelle and Brianna talking about her through the thin walls. Times like those made her think of her mother, and she found herself asking God why she couldn’t have died with her instead of being cursed to the Ghetto Cinderella story she was being forced to live out.
It had been a little under two years since Promise’s mother had been killed, a victim of a head-on collision by some fool who thought it was a good idea to down a fifth of scotch and get behind the wheel. Promise was in the car with her that day. Fatima and Promise had been coming home from the Sunday matinee. Every Sunday they would go to the movies, a tradition they’d observed since Promise was a little girl. Most Sundays Promise selected the movie, but that day Fatima had made the selection. It was an indie love story entitled Broken. Promise didn’t think much of the film, but her mother was so invested in it. She even cried like a baby at the end.
On the way home, they discussed the film in detail. With the way Fatima kept firing questions at her about the film, Promise felt like she was in school taking a quiz. For the life of her she couldn’t figure out why Fatima was so stuck on the movie, but then her mother explained. The film had been directed by her ex-lover, Promise’s father.
If Promise could recall correctly, it was the first time her mother had ever spoken specifically about her father’s profession. She knew that he was some white bigwig in Hollywood, but not in what capacity. She had met him once or twice, once that she could remember for sure. This is when she and Fatima were still living at her grandparent’s house in Berkeley Heights, New Jersey. Fatima had gotten up early that day, dressed Promise in one of her best dresses, and did her hair. She packed a bag for both of them and told Promise that they would be going on a long trip. This excited Promise since she had never been outside the tristate.
Promise could remember her mother forcing her to sit on that porch for hours in the summer heat. Promise wanted to change out of the dress and put on some shorts, but Fatima wouldn’t allow it. Just as the sun was starting to set, the shiniest car Promise had ever seen pulled up in front of their grandparent’s house. From behind the wheel stepped a tall, handsome white man. His skin was richly tanned like he spent most of his days in the sun. Fatima’s eyes lit up at the sight of him. From the backseat of his car the man produced several bags full of presents, all of which he presented to Promise.
The little girl wasn’t sure who this white man was with the same eyes as her, but he had come bearing gifts, which made him alright with her. Fatima had introduced the man to Promise as a special friend. The man was neither warm to the little girl, nor was he cold. The look he gave her was more of a curious examination. Promise could remember sitting on the porch, marveling at her gifts while her mother and father talked. Aunt Dell’s nosey ass sat in the window the whole time. Promise wasn’t sure what they discussed, but it ended with her mother in tears and her father driving away without so much as a goodbye. When Promise asked if they were still going on their trip her mother replied, “Next time.” After that, whenever Promise would ask if her dad was coming back her mother would only say, “Soon.” As the years went by and soon never came, Promise stopped asking and her mother stopped lying.
Not long after leaving the movie theater is when Promise and her mother had gotten into an accident. Promise escaped the wreck with a broken arm, but her mother hadn’t been so lucky. Fatima died on impact. For a long time after her mother’s death, Promise would imagine that one day her dad would make good on his promise to return for them. It hadn’t happened yet and it likely never would. Still, it was all she had to hold onto to keep her sane while she toiled in the Brick City hell, a prisoner of the demons who called themselves her family.
* * *
When Promise lifted the lid of the recycle bin to toss out the bottles before handling the trash, the first thing she smelled was rotting fish and fruit. That was the work of their second-floor tenants. They couldn’t seem to tell the difference between the trash and recycling bins. It wasn’t malicious on their parts, they simply just didn’t know. With a sigh, Promise collected their rancid trash from the bin and threw it in the trash where it belonged. It wasn’t her responsibility, but Adelle had already warned them that the next time she had to hose her recycling bin down on account of them she was putting them in the streets. Promise was fond of the family and she didn’t want to see them homeless.
After taking care of the garbage situation, Promise made her way to the store. She had trouble getting through the small gate in front of the house because the latch was badly rusted and that made it stick sometimes. That was one of several things that were wrong in and around the house. At one time it was one of the nicer ones on the block, but over the years Adelle had started to neglect the upkeep. When she had suggested to her aunt to hire a handyman to tweak a few little things, she bit her head off and called her uppity. “You wanna live good? Go find your daddy and stay with him in whitey-land,” she’d told her.
Though the block Promise lived on was nice enough, the surrounding neighborhoods began to decline after a few blocks. The houses were less kept, some abandoned and occupied by squatters. Graffiti spelling out gang affiliations marked the walls and sides of buildings making it clear where you were and who was in control. Promise had never really had any problems with the locals, except for the few times she’s gotten into scuffles over Brianna. For the most part she kept to herself, came and went without making small talk, and minded her business. She had never bothered to try and make any friends in the area except Mouse, Keys, and maybe one or two other people. Mouse was always trying to get Promise to socialize more but she declined. That was Mouse’s hood, and Promise was an outsider. She held no illusions as to her social standings and was content to remain on the outside looking in.
