It wasn’t like she hadn’t warned me. Maybe that’s why she started hating my friendship with Buck around the time I began to develop.
She’d say, “Don’t go giving that boy anything. It’s not his to have, and he ain’t got no money to pay for it.”
Aunt Delores had tried a few times to get Momma to let me come live with her and Uncle Manny. But Momma wasn’t having it.
“The state will cut me off if she lives somewhere else. I have to have my check. It’s bad enough Loula’s going to turn eighteen someday. I’m not going back to turning tricks.”
Somehow, even though I’d heard it often enough, it always seemed like something that would happen far into the future. Not something that she’d do when I hadn’t even turned seventeen.
A month or so before my birthday, I’d been over at Aunt Delores’s, helping her in her flowerbeds. Momma wasn’t home yet—no telling where she’d spent the night.
When I got out of the shower, voices from the living room bled through the walls. Momma’s company was never a good thing. The smell turned my sinking stomach sour. It was a sure sign she and her guest had been smoking crack, its odor rank enough to induce nausea.
Crap. I left my clothes in my room. I wrapped tight in a towel and held my breath as I opened the door, peeking out before I took the first step into the hall.
Before I made it to my room, Mom called after me. “Loula Mae, c’mon in here. I have someone who wants to meet you.”
I took another silent step toward my door, hoping she’d think I hadn’t heard.
But she stepped to the end of the hall. “Now, you wait just one second, Girl. You mind your momma. Come in here.”
I turned, my grip tight on the towel. “I will. Just let me get some clothes on.”
She laughed. “Oh, hell. Don’t worry with that. D’Jon’s gonna want to see you naked.”
My leg muscles tightened, ready to run. But running from Momma always resulted in a beating that left me bruised for days. Maybe she was kidding. Surely she couldn’t be serious.
A tall, dark figure joined Mom at the end of the hall, his face shadowed, like a nightmare waiting to happen.
And he was.
If it hadn’t been for Buck, my life would have looked so different. There’s no doubt in my mind; that wouldn’t have been the only time Momma sold me to some guy.
Without Buck, I’d probably never have gotten out.
I let go of a shaky breath. Did I ever even thank him?
He didn’t kill D’Jon, even though that’s what Mom screamed as Buck carried me out. But he put a hurtin’ on him. And then he put a whole different kind of hurtin’ on Momma. He forced her hand in letting me get out from under her thumb.
I push to my feet. Enough of this.
Some things are too harsh to purposefully dredge up from those little boxes tucked inside where I keep my demons. Because, unfortunately, one demon holds hands with the next, and the next, and the next. An endless line of bad memories, spilling out of the barrel like evil monkeys, ready to take hold and tear out your soul.
No. Not today. Not ever.
I wipe the dust from my hands. “Now all we have to do is install the new flooring.”
Aunt Delores nods, her face dirty, sweat trickling down one cheek. “Thank you, Sweet Girl. Don’t you need to get ready for work?”
I pull my phone from my back pocket. Six-fifty-eight. “Yeah, I guess I should.”
I press the screen to read the text waiting for me.
-I’m sneaking away. Meet me at the fort @ 7:30. Bring a blanket.-
I hop into the shower and scrub away the other bathroom floor’s dirt and grime. I spent the day prying up the old linoleum tiles so we can fix the problem with the mushy subflooring.
I shave everything that needs it, including my coochie—Aunt Delores’s word for it cracks me up. I grin as I rub strawberry body butter over the smooth-as-silk skin. I pat dry and pull my sundress over my head, adjusting my tits in the halter-style bodice.
No bra. No panties. No point. I won’t have them on long enough to warrant the effort.
I nab the quilt off the end of my bed and sneak out the back door. I take my car around to Old Farm Drive, the road that runs along the backside of the Buckners’ property. A secondary trail leads from here to the old fort Buck and I played in when we were kids. It was a favorite place for us to hang out—or hide, as the case sometimes was for me—all through our childhood.
I hate deceiving Aunt Delores, but it’s a must. If she knew how I really paid for the new laminate flooring for her bathroom, she’d have a fucking stroke, but not before she cussed out Buck and me for our folly.
As I tramp through the tall weeds toward my destination, the sun plays hide and seek behind the rolling clouds. I could almost imagine it isn’t the height of summer in Louisiana. There’s a cooler breeze today. It blows up my skirt, teasing my pussy lips.