MONEY, POWER, RESPECT: A CHICAGO STREET NOVEL
DANNI
Blood stained lips. That was what I remembered of my mother. Blood stained lips. She always wore the same vermillion color, cheapening her natural beauty.
In the balmy heat of South Carolina I’d watch in mixtures of disgust and fascination as her blood stained lips would blow out puffs of smoke from her crack pipe.
I’d watch in mixtures of amazement and anger as those same blood stained lips enveloped the dicks of any man who could spare a rock or some change.
I had always been a quick learner and with the mom I had you had to be up on game in order to survive. I had to dodge the predatory advances of the many men in my mother’s life. I knew how to talk to a man in order to get what I needed whether it was school supplies or a meal to eat. I knew how men operated and I used it against them. It was one of those men who changed my life forever.
The moment Mack stepped into my life I was never the same. I’d watch him. I watched and learned. He was my mother’s newest pimp and he made damn sure I knew it. I’d watch his manipulation of my mother. His anger was as swift as the wind. The slightest infraction would send him into rage.
My mother would deal with his tantrums happily. She loved him. She would constantly tell me that he saved us from a life on the street. Yeah, he took us from the street and right into the pits of hell. I tried to stay out of his way and my mother tried to pacify his growing demands. We did a pretty good job until the one night he went too far.
Cigar smoke filled the air in our musty one bedroom apartment. Clutter covered every corner of the cramped space. I sat at the rickety dining table reading quietly and trying to be as invisible as possible. The country air was quiet with the kind of stillness that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Mack’s heavy sigh broke the silence. He brushed a large hand over his chocolate bald head and down his greying beard. My mother’s eager eyes assessed him with the adoration a small child would have for a parent.
“Baby, I think it’s time for Danni to join the family business.”
Stunned silence drifted from my mother.
“She’s sixteen, tight, right, and fucking gorgeous. I’d train her and put her out on the stroll.”
My sweaty palms gripped the edge of my book in a death grip. I prayed to every God in the heavens that my mother would, for once, save me.
“No.” Her voice was barely above a whisper but it ricocheted off the walls with the force of several bullets.
Mack’s cigar paused inches from his full lips. “What did you say?”
“No. I want better for Danni. I don’t want her running the streets and fucking her way to a better existence.” My mother stood over Mack, her body shaking with fear and withdrawals.
“Bitch did I ask you what you wanted?”
She looked as if she wanted to answer but before the words could travel from her mind to her lips, the back of his hand connected with her face. Like a zombie I moved mindlessly from my seated position to try to protect my mother.
Mack’s fist landed on her flesh as she curled into the fetal position. I gripped his strong forearm, trying in vain to stop the brutal beating. I got a swift uppercut for my trouble. My teeth rattled in my head as I fell back and landed against the small television stand.
Shattered glass and my mother’s screams bounced off the dingy walls. Dazed and confused, I staggered to my feet while gripping my throbbing face. Again, I tried to get Mack off my mother but my punches were akin to wisps of air against his muscled back. She screamed for help and so did I but we both knew that none would come. In this neighborhood everyone minded their own business. There were no heroes here. Only you could save yourself.
Soon her screams quieted and the only sounds were my screams, my mother’s hollow breathing, the wail of sirens nearing, and Mack’s grunts as he continued to stomp my mother’s face with his booted foot. Mack stopped his assault and rushed out the room as I crouched over my mother. I begged her not to leave me, not to abandon me in a world so cruel.
My pleas went unanswered. Mack came back to the room with a black bag over his shoulder. Scooping me up, he carried my grief ridden body out of the small domicile. My mother’s body lay on the floor, her last breath leaving her blood stained lips.
Two years had passed since that fateful night and Mack had me on the stroll. I was his biggest money maker. My body had developed into a woman’s and so had my mind. I wanted to move up north where everyone said opportunities were plentiful. I wanted more out of life than turning tricks but with an tenth grade education, no money, no ID, and no birth certificate there was no hope for me becoming CEO of a legitimate business. All I knew was struggle. All I knew was hooking. Plus, there was no way I could just walk away from Mack. He would never let me go.
Mack had me under his thumb. Every move I made was watched closely. If I even looked like I was going to disobey him, he would beat my ass so bad I wouldn’t be able to leave the house for weeks. I knew I had to get away from Mack. He would eventually kill my ass just like he did my mother.
One particular night, after a particularly severe beating, he called me into his room. We were once again in another dingy apartment in another bad part of town. This time there were three bedrooms. Mack had expanded his business. There were five other girls besides me. I watched how Mack handled them, how he got them to do whatever he wanted. He had power over their minds. He controlled them with love. He controlled me with fear.
Slowly, I limped to his bedroom. I waited by the side of his bed where he was stretched out like a king. “Danni, I need you to clean yourself up and come and take care of me.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower. There were several other girls in our “family” that could take care of his needs. I knew he was doing this to punish me plus they were all out working. I wiped the drying blood from my face and body, wrapped my hair in a silk scarf, and sprayed cheap perfume over my pulse points. I looked in the mirror. My face was clear of bruises but my body wasn’t so lucky. Black and blue splotches, welts, and cuts decorated my once smooth skin.
I quickly left the quiet confines of the bathroom and joined Mack. His eyes roamed over my naked frame in appreciation. Repulsion filled me. I straddled his lap as he lay back on the bed. I fought not to wave my hand in front of my face, the smoke from his ever present cigar filling the room.
Mack’s arrogant laughter filled the room. “Damn, Danni, you are just as fine as your mama. Let’s see if you can do me better than her.”
Anger filled me up as he closed his eyes and leaned back on the bed, waiting. I reached in the side table drawer where he kept the condoms. I flinched as Mack’s hands traveled the length of my nude body roughly.
Flashbacks of how those same hands beat the life out of my mother assaulted me. “Oh yeah, Mack, I’m going to do you a hell of a lot better than my mother.”
He opened his eyes to smile cockily milliseconds before my knife plunged deep into his stomach. Blood landed in sticky droplets across my exposed flesh. I watched in quiet satisfaction as he bucked against my body and shouts of horror and pain exploded from his lips.
Repeatedly I stabbed him, vindication filling my entire being. The life started to ease from his body and I arched my back over his form and lifted my head to the ceiling. It felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Haughty laughter bubbled from my throat and shook my body. Mack continued to gurgle and blood began to pour from his lips. Tears ran down my face as I raced out the bedroom and packed a bag before throwing on some clothes. I had no clue as to where I was going but it didn’t matter. I had to get the hell out of here.
My steps faltered briefly as I neared Mack’s bedroom. It was as if I was afraid he had woken up from the dead. I made my way to his bedside. His chest heaved with labored breath and more gurgling noises escaped him.
Leaning over him, I made sure I was the only thing in his line of sight. I wanted to be the last thing he saw before he died. I wanted him to remember my face while he waited for me in hell. He groaned and his eyes raced over my face wildly.
“See Mack, I told you I’d do you better than my mama.”
I turned out of the room and left as another bout of laughter escaped my blood stained lips.
I woke with a start. My hearth thundered in my chest. My body was shaking uncontrollably. Sweat made my nightgown stick to my skin. Tears were rolling down my face.
I wasn’t surprised. That always happened when I dreamed about my mother and Mack. The night I killed him was the last night I cried. The other night with Bruce broke my streak. That was an indication that I had changed and needed to get out of Chicago as soon as possible. If I had any doubt then that dream disposed me of them.
Throughout the years I only dreamt of my past a few times. I was a strong believer in dreams giving you signs of what was to come in the future and this dream was no different. It was as if my mother was trying to give me a sign, trying to protect me. I always heeded the warning and this time would be no different. Every single time I dreamt of them I knew what was going to happen.
Death was coming.
