Brooklyn, page 9
They sat together on the back pew of the church near the exit, waiting for their parents to wrap up their business so that they all could go home. Sunday service had ended hours ago, but for the pastor and first lady the duties didn’t end there. Their sister Hope was downstairs in the lower hall helping the Sunday school teachers clean up. Amir seized the opportunity to ask the question. Moments alone with Brooklyn were increasingly rare these days.
“I prayed for forgiveness,” she said.
Her eyes swept across the room, taking it all in. She admitted silently to herself that it really was a beautiful church. The stained glass windows reflected the autumn sunshine beautifully. The cushioned pews had neatly stacked Bibles and hymnals placed perfectly for each congregant’s use. The pulpit loomed over it all with three throne-like chairs for the pastor and his associate ministers to perch upon.
“It’s weird sitting back here, right?” she asked, changing the subject. “We’re usually up front. All eyes on us. Being back here is the real bird’s-eye view.” She grinned. “Who’s passing the offering plate without tipping, who’s sneaking out early. This is the best seat in the house.”
Amir searched her face for signs of remorse. He found none, and that worried him.
“I need you to talk to me, little sister. I know you think you have everything under control. But it’s hard for me to keep your secrets and help you cover your tracks if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I understand.”
“I’m worried about you.”
She sighed. “It’s all good, Amir. I promise.” She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head to the side. “But I’m worried about you, too. We had a conversation months ago about you getting out of here, living your life for real. And you’re still here.”
“You don’t know what my plans are.”
“So, tell me. What’s this big master plan? Because it seems to me like all you’re doing is getting up every morning and repeating the same routine. Living the same lie.”
He recoiled a bit at her choice of words but recovered quickly. “I remember the way the family almost fell apart when that situation happened with Uncle Morris. I never saw Dad that upset or saw Mom that scared. What he did to you was wrong. And how they handled it was worse. But I learned something important when that happened. Our family, this church, the whole thing—it’s fragile. One scandal can bring it all tumbling down. Even if it’s something that wasn’t our fault. You weren’t to blame for what Uncle Morris did to you. And it’s not my choice to be the way that I am. But it doesn’t matter. Because if the world knew the truth about any of it, the whole thing crumbles.” He sighed, staring down at his hands in his lap. “I’m not gonna be the reason that happens. I plan to live my life. Someday. Away from here where it doesn’t affect this.” He gestured around the sanctuary. “I’m still trying to figure out how to do that. Maybe I’m moving too slowly for you. But I’m moving at my pace.”
Brooklyn decided to let it go. Even though she wanted to press further, she realized that her brother wasn’t budging.
“You just worry about yourself,” he advised. “Make sure you’re not risking your heart.”
Brooklyn sighed. “I’m not. I really like him. We’re just counting the days until graduation so I can bounce.”
“That’s not until next year. In the meantime, you and your mystery guy better take your time. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”
She sighed. “Okay, big brother. I won’t.”
Erica and Jordan approached. Amir and Brooklyn were both grateful for the distraction. They greeted their friends as they sat down nearby.
“Wassup, y’all? Your mother said to tell you they’re almost done.” Erica delivered the message as promised.
Brooklyn rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
“I’m about to get out of here, too,” Jordan said. “Gotta work in the morning.”
Erica didn’t notice the eye contact between Jordan and Amir when he said it.
Brooklyn might not have either if she wasn’t aware of the secret love affair between them. She watched their exchange and stared at Jordan as he spoke about the high-profile case he was working on as a paralegal at his firm. She had never given much thought to Jordan over the years. Like Amir, he was humble and unassuming. Brooklyn hadn’t noticed how handsome he was, how well-groomed and confident. His voice was deep and melodic, and she found herself hanging on his every word as he spoke. She was seeing him with fresh eyes, suddenly understanding a little better the reasons why Amir was reluctant to leave. Jordan was on the rise in his career, maneuvering at the firm and in the world at large as a heterosexual man. He had tons of reasons to hide the truth. Like Amir, he was allowing the world to perceive him in a way that made them feel comfortable.
But unlike Jordan, Amir wasn’t establishing himself in some big corporate career and solidifying his future. Brooklyn understood that Amir was shrinking himself to fit inside of a world he didn’t belong in. She only wished he could see that for himself.
She groaned seeing her parents approaching. Erica cleared her throat and Jordan straightened up.
“Good evening, young people!” Elias’s voice was as exuberant as the expression on his face.
“Hey, Pastor and First Lady!” Erica said.
Jordan greeted them as well, while Brooklyn looked her parents up and down. As usual, her mother wore a pencil skirt and neat blouse with a sensible pair of heels. Her hair hung loosely at her shoulders, and she had her perpetual smile plastered on her face.
“Great service today,” Sabrina said. “Let’s get home so I can put these pies in the oven before it gets too late to eat a slice.” She rubbed her tiny waistline, hoping someone would point out how fit she was and that she had nothing to worry about.
Brooklyn ignored her and stood up. She hugged Erica goodbye. “See you tomorrow.”
“I have to talk to you,” Erica whispered. “Call me tonight.”
Brooklyn pulled back and searched her friend’s face for clues of what she wanted to discuss. Erica smiled back at her, aware that the adults were watching.
Brooklyn nodded.
She couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole way home. She wondered what her friend wanted to tell her, and she waited anxiously for a chance to use the phone when her parents were occupied with other things.
Finally, while her parents were engrossed in an episode of the TV show 60 Minutes, Brooklyn called Erica while she knew she had at least an hour to speak freely.
“Hey,” she said when Erica answered. “What’s going on?”
“Not much. Just finished eating dinner. Getting ready for school tomorrow.”
Brooklyn rolled her eyes, annoyed that Erica was droning on about mundane things when she had been sitting on the edge of her seat for hours.
“What did you want to talk to me about? You sounded so mysterious when you whispered in my ear at church.”
Erica sat on her bed with the cordless phone and closed her eyes. She knew that what she was about to tell her best friend would break her heart.
“It’s about Alonzo.”
“What? What about him?” Brooklyn hadn’t spoken to him since Friday. She had paged him after school, hoping to see him for an hour or so before she had to be home for her father’s birthday celebration. But Alonzo said that he was busy, and the rest of the weekend had been packed with family activities that prevented her from contacting him again.
“What happened?”
“I’m in a tough position,” Erica said. “He’s my cousin. He looks out for my family, and I love him. I just want you to know that telling you this feels a little like I’m betraying him.”
A shiver of dread ran down Brooklyn’s spine. She could already tell where this was heading.
“I understand,” she said.
“Zo is older than us. I tried to warn you from the start that you might not be ready for a guy like him. He has a lot of money, access, and power. He has a lot of girls, too.”
Brooklyn wished it stung less than it did. “I’m not dumb. I assumed I wasn’t the only one.”
“Did he tell you about Janine?”
Brooklyn sucked her teeth. “I’m not worried about other girls. I know what Zo is like when he’s with me. And that’s all that matters.”
Erica groaned. “Brooklyn, he’s getting ready to get married.”
“Married?” Brooklyn froze.
“It’s this girl named Janine. She’s older than us. Like twenty-two, I think. She’s in college and he pays for it. Got her in an apartment on the other side of the island in this nice building. He bought her a car. I didn’t know it was that serious until he brought her to my aunt’s house for a dinner party yesterday. She was flashing the ring around, showing everybody. And I pulled Zo to the side and asked him if he told you. He shrugged it off, said that you know what time it is. So, I figured it’s the right thing to do as a friend just to tell you. In case you didn’t know.”
Brooklyn wasn’t sure what to say. She thought about the child she had aborted weeks earlier, the promises he made to look out for her. She felt dumb.
“Married?”
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. Zo should have been man enough to tell you himself. But my aunt always tells me that men like to have their cake and eat it, too. I know you care about him. I know this hurts. Just know that he’s my family, but I’m on your side. You deserve better than this.”
“I’m not even sure what to say,” Brooklyn admitted. “Thank you for telling me, though. I’ll see you in school tomorrow.”
She hung up the phone and cried quietly to herself. With tears blurring her vision, she picked the phone back up and dialed Alonzo’s pager number. She put in her special code—111—and her home phone number. Alonzo had never called her at home before. Brooklyn had been too afraid of the questions her parents would ask about who he was and what the nature of their relationship was. She knew that she was taking a chance. But she needed to talk to Alonzo immediately. Her heart wouldn’t let her wait.
She felt powerless, waiting by the phone for him to call back. She paged him again and again, but he never called. She thought back to their last conversation and recalled how evasive he’d been about what he was doing and where he was going. All he would tell her was that he was busy, too busy to see her.
She tried to recall whether the mood between them had been any different the last time they were together. The doctor had advised her to avoid sexual activity for at least six weeks. In that time, she hadn’t seen much of Alonzo. He was hustling, she was back in school, and she assumed their prolonged absence from each other was just a consequence of their lives. Now she knew the truth. That he was likely done with her, and the feeling of freedom and the thrill of the life she had been living for the past several months was a temporary high. Suddenly she felt her life was in a freefall.
All night she thought about the child she had aborted, the trips she had made uptown, and the bond she thought she had been building with Alonzo in the months since their relationship started. She felt betrayed, abandoned, discarded. Those feelings kept her awake all night, lying in the darkness of her bedroom eager for sunrise.
She left the house early the next morning pretending that she was headed to school. Instead, she made a beeline for the projects, stormed into Alonzo’s building, and charged up the stairs. She didn’t bother waiting for the elevator, too high on adrenaline to be patient.
She rushed down the hall to his apartment and banged on the door several times. She paused a moment, then banged again in quick succession. She heard movement, the locks being undone, the chain sliding from its latch, and Alonzo stepped out into the hallway.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demanded, his chest heaving. “Knocking on my door like the fuckin’ police!”
“Who’s in there? Why can’t I come inside?”
“You don’t ever come over here without telling me first!”
“I tried paging you, but you won’t call me back!”
“Then you wait until I do!”
Brooklyn’s heart broke a little more. Alonzo had never talked to her in this tone of voice before. His tone and body language were aggressive. It was clear that her presence was unwelcome there.
Her instincts told her there was a reason for that.
“Who’s in there? Janine?”
His face registered surprise. For a moment, it seemed like he was prepared to deny it. But he smirked, stepped back, and nodded.
“Yeah. Erica told you, huh?” He shrugged. “So, now you know. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, Brooklyn. I kept telling you that—”
“You told me that you had my back. Remember that?”
The door opened behind him, and a woman stood behind him wearing nothing but a T-shirt and a pair of black panties. She was pretty, brown-skinned, and voluptuous. She stared at Brooklyn with a disgusted expression on her face.
“Who’s this?” she asked Alonzo.
“Who are you?” Brooklyn asked, her face twisted up as well.
“Janine,” the woman said. “Can we help you?”
Alonzo stood between them looking like he’d rather be anyplace else.
“She’s leaving,” he said.
“No, I’m not.” Brooklyn started taking off her earrings like she had seen girls do countless times in the school cafeteria and in movies.
Fueled by heartbreak and embarrassment, she charged past Alonzo and rushed Janine, catching her off guard. The force sent both of them tumbling into the apartment, where they fought viciously in the doorway.
“Stop!” Alonzo yelled repeatedly to no avail.
Brooklyn grabbed Janine by the hair and swung at her, landing blow after blow. But she was no match for her opponent. While Brooklyn landed several hard slaps and a few scratches, Janine easily overpowered her. She straddled Brooklyn, raining down punches to her face and head mercilessly until Alonzo finally managed to drag her away.
“BITCH!” Janine yelled, towering over Brooklyn as she lay in a defeated heap on the apartment floor. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“Chill!” Alonzo yelled at her, nudging her gently toward the living room. “Go in there. Let me get her up.”
“I’m not going nowhere. This ho done lost her mind. Who is this little fucking girl, Zo? You got these silly bitches coming in here trying to fight me?”
“RELAX!” he yelled, helping Brooklyn off the floor.
She could feel that her lip was swollen, and her left eye was throbbing. Her body ached as she stood. She had never felt more embarrassed in her life. But the defiant spirit within her longed to have the last word.
“You’re the silly bitch, thinking he’s gonna marry you.”
Janine stormed into the living room and grabbed a bottle off the coffee table. Brooklyn watched her, staring at the bottle in her hand, recognizing it as the same type of wine bottle she had seen in Alonzo’s refrigerator the last time she was there. As Janine rushed toward her with the bottle in her hand, Brooklyn ducked, Alonzo stepped between them and began wrestling the bottle from Janine’s hand.
Brooklyn forced a laugh as Janine riddled her with insults and vowed to kick her ass again the next time she saw her.
“Whatever, bitch!” Brooklyn yelled back.
A couple of Alonzo’s neighbors opened their apartment doors to see what all the fuss was about. Embarrassed and afraid that someone would recognize her as the pastor’s daughter, she rushed down the hallway and ran down the stairs as fast as she could.
When she got outside, she didn’t fight the tears that poured forth. She knew she looked terrible. She could taste blood in her mouth and the pain in her inner cheek where her teeth had cut the flesh. She could feel her left eye swelling and wondered how she would explain this to her parents.
She walked aimlessly down the block, considering what would happen if she just never went home. If she just got on the ferry to Manhattan, and blended into the sea of people there. There, no one would look twice at her torn jacket, black eye, and swollen mouth. She wanted desperately to get away, to run for her life and escape the fishbowl she was living in. She felt like everyone was watching and controlling her, manipulating her, and lying to her. It made her sick to her stomach.
She heard a car horn as she walked down Richmond Terrace. At first she ignored it. But when it honked twice more, she turned in the direction of the car and saw Zo behind the wheel.
“Let me take you home,” he said. “Stop acting like that.”
She stopped walking. “You know what? FUCK YOU!”
“It’s like that, huh?” He drove slowly beside her as she kept walking. Ignoring the drivers behind him blaring their horns at him to speed up, he talked to her through his open window. “I don’t want to end off like this. I apologize, Brooklyn.”
She stopped again and watched as he pulled over to the curb. Against her better judgment, she walked over and climbed into the passenger seat.
“I’m not going home,” she said. “So, don’t drive me there. Just say what you gotta say and let me go.”
“Where you going looking like that?” he asked. He flipped down the visor over the passenger seat and angled the mirror so she could see herself.
Brooklyn saw herself and wanted to cry. The left side of her face looked like she had been in a battle with Mike Tyson. Her lip was swollen and crusted with dried blood. Her eye was discolored and red inside.
“I’m getting the fuck out of here,” she answered. “That’s where I’m going.” She shook her head. “I must be a fucking idiot thinking I could trust you.”
“I never lied to you, Brooklyn.”
“You damn sure didn’t tell me that you were getting married. You never mentioned her at all.”
“I was gonna tell you. I just needed time.”
“Cool. Well, now I know. You can leave me alone from now on.”
She ignored his protests as she climbed out of the car. She slammed the door for good measure and stormed off toward the nearest bus stop a block ahead.
Then she heard the screeching of tires and the sound of Alonzo’s car horn blaring. She turned around and saw that an unmarked police car with its blue light flashing on the dashboard had cut Alonzo off as he prepared to weave into traffic.
