The Birthday Gift

"Uh...I have to go. Do you want this money back, because technically—"

"Of course not. Uh, give me a sec."

She moved her muscular frame around quite easily, almost balletically, as she searched in the general area she'd searched before. It appeared she worked out regularly. She was muscular, from her biceps to her calves. Not obscenely muscular, but nicely defined. She still wore her hair short, like she had in high school. And her face, the dark chocolate color of her face, was truly complimented by pronounced check bones and sensual, full lips. As I'd talked, I had caught her gaze on me more than once, pensive, intrigued, fascinated...and amazingly hazel green. How had I forgotten those amazingly intense eyes? I now remembered that they seemed more brown than green when she was relaxed and more green than brown whenever she was excited. Like when she had a basketball in her hand...and like the day she'd driven me home. But I always thought I had imagined the color that day. Perhaps a reflection of the crush I'd had on her?

She turned suddenly and I quickly lowered my eyes, trying to hide the intrigue and curiosity I'm sure my gaze reflected. She took a step toward me, then another.

"Uh, here. It's not much, but I want to—"

It was a wad of cash. I guess she did understand my time was to be paid for in cash. The thought angered me a little, but what did I expect?

"I told you, your boys already paid me," I said more harshly than necessary.

She looked down at the wad of cash in her hand and then back at my face, understanding dawning. She started to shake her head.

"No, it's not payment. I know you probably need some cash for yourself. Just take this, okay?"

I was a little surprised by the gesture, but I wasn't stupid. I took the money and slipped it into the small bag I carried. Then I started awkwardly toward the door, understanding that I needed to leave and return to Darnell, but not really wanting to.

"Uh...I have to go." I finally offered again.

She nodded and then fished around for something else. A moment later, she handed me a business card, "look, if you ever need anything. I mean, if you need any help or anything..." She let the words trail off. I was touched, again, by the offer. I nodded and then opened the door to leave. I closed it quickly, hurrying down the corridor to the elevator. I glanced back as I stepped onto the elevator and realized Vic was watching me. I offered a half-hearted wave before the elevator doors closed between us.

A month later I was shoving my dark, thick waves up into a short, auburn afro wig. It went with the gold make-up theme I'd selected for the night which included a gold lame short, tight dress and 4-inch gold heels. This was a look that worked well for me. I expected another relatively early night. The other girls were ready to go and we were waiting for Darnell's call, which I would receive.

As I'd done for the past four weeks, I thought about the $572 I had hidden in a hole in my mattress...along with the business card. That entire night had been...surreal. I had opted not to think about it mostly. Thinking about it only created problems for me. It brought up options...thoughts of leaving the life...ideas that were pretty farfetched. What would I do if I left? Go home to mommy and daddy? Hope they would welcome me back with open arms? And the kind of money I had wouldn't take me much further than Pennsylvania. Besides, even if that happened, even if I was insane enough to go "home," what then? I had very little education, no skills...the only thing I did well I did lying on my back, or crouched over someone's lap in a car. What kind of future would I have if I left "the life"? How realistic was leaving?

I didn't have any optimistic answers, so I just ignored the questions, hoping they would go away. They seemed more pervasive since I'd bumped into Vic, but I could usually talk myself out of them. So, as I shifted my breasts in the dress, pulling them up to highlight their size and shape, I shook the idiotic thoughts from my head once more.

We finally got the text from Darnell and the three of us made our way out of the apartment, down to the tiny little lobby. He'd dropped the other four girls off earlier, so it was only us. Maria had been with the other group and I wished her luck tonight. She and I had established a bit of a big sister/little sister rapport...another problem if/when I seriously thought about leaving.

There were cars already lined up when we approached our regular spot. Men, men and more men. Young, old, white, black, Latino, Asian, Jewish...all types, sizes and colors. I sighed as I exited the vehicle, trying to get my head in the game. It seemed to be getting harder and harder.

"Hey beautiful, you got time for a date?"

One of my semi-regulars spotted me almost as soon as I was clear of the Escalade. I sauntered over, a smile on my face.

"Hi baby boy, how's it going?"

He was white, in his mid 40s, I would guess, balding, chubby...and he smelled a little. If I had to hazard a guess, I would suggest he was a bachelor. He smiled up at me, eager.

"Can I get a hand-mouth combo tonight?" He asked with bated breath.

I smiled more broadly, "that's $60," I reminded him.

He showed me the bills and unlocked the passenger side door. I'd been with him twice before, so I knew he liked privacy. He drove away from the relatively busy area until we were in a somewhat dark alley. There was already another car parked there, parking lights on, so I felt relatively comfortable. There was an informal code among the girls to watch each other's backs, even if we "belonged" to different managers. He handed me the cash and I saw his pants were already undone. I reached for him, quickly bringing him to a full erection. I could hear his rushed breathing, could feel the tension in his thighs. I quickly deduced I could finish him off with my hand and that would be that.

"Wait, wait, I want to feel your mouth—"

But, as I already stated, I'm good with my hands. Really good. He was erupting before he could finish the sentence. I smiled up at him.

"Didn't that feel just as—"

There was always the threat of violence in the profession, but when it happened it was always shocking. His fist landed square on my nose and I think I heard a crunch. The pain shot through me, up to my brain, freezing me with shock.

"You stupid fucking bitch, I told you I wanted you to suck me."

He snatched the money from my fist, reached over to open the passenger side door and, using his foot, roughly kicked me from the vehicle. I landed with an "umph" on the chilled ground, the cold quickly seeping through my thin layer of clothing. I could feel my head swirling, the nausea quickly rising in my stomach. I heard the tires peel off as I emptied the contents of the little dinner I'd consumed onto the ground beside me.

I was too dizzy, and relatively blinded from the pain, to move. I did manage to crawl to the side of the building, using it to lift myself into a sitting position. There was blood everywhere, all over my clothes, my hands...everywhere. I thought I might be sick again. When I lifted my hand to touch my nose, the odd shape of the bone scared me. I forced myself not to cry, breathing through my mouth as my nasal passages quickly swelled shut.

I'm not sure how long it took for him to realize I was gone, but I saw the Escalade pull into the alley finally. He stood from the vehicle, looked around for a moment, and then walked toward me.

"What the fuck Candy?"

That was my street name. Well, my fourth or fifth street name. I looked up at him.

"What the hell does it look like? The fucker punched me dead in the face. I need to go to the hospital."

I watched his face shift into a familiar angry scowl and I wondered why I wasn't cowering. What had possessed me to speak to him like that given his propensity for violence? I wasn't certain. I watched him carefully.

"Did he pay you?"

"He took it back." I answered, clearly annoyed.

That was all it took to set off his hair trigger temper. Before I could take another breath, he was kicking me, over and over again. I curled into a ball, trying to protect myself. What was more pain given this life I'd been stuck in for years? Once he'd tired himself out, he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet. I screamed that time, wondering if he'd fractured a rib again. I was unkindly tossed into the back of his Escalade. Fifteen minutes later, I was shoved from yet another car, this time in front of the ER at the nearest hospital.

They kept me overnight. They didn't tape my fractured rib, but they did have to set my nose and bandage it. Both my eyes had been blackened, my face was puffy, swollen and relatively unrecognizable. Dressed in my short, tight gold dress and walking barefoot (I couldn't manage the gold heels), I left the hospital alone and hailed a cab. I didn't have any cash on me, but I was pretty certain, considering it was only noon, Darnell would be at the apartment and would pay the cab driver. When I was only a few blocks away, I texted him. He sent his sister out to meet me.

There was no fanfare when I arrived in the tiny one-bedroom apartment. Some of the girls looked up and winced, remembering their own predicaments. Others were probably a little jealous, realizing I would be unable to work for at least a week. Maria was the only person who seemed genuinely relieved to see me. She was sporting a huge bruise on one cheek, letting me know she had not met her quota again. That also meant she would stay with me tonight. She had to wait for the swelling to go down before she could hit the streets again. Darnell was nowhere to be found.

They'd given me a few pain pills at the hospital, so I gave her one. I checked the hole in my mattress, looking for the "obvious" stash of cash, $72 that I hoped would stop anyone else from searching further. That stash was gone. No surprise, one of the girls, or Darnell, probably tossed my stuff when they realized I wouldn't be back for a day. But when I dug my hand a little further into the hole, my sock was still there. I pulled it out and made my way to the bathroom. All $500 was present and accounted for. I sighed with a little relief before glancing in the mirror. I looked like some kind of monster from Halloween. Huge purplish bruises around both eyes, the white bandage covering the bridge of my nose. I'd seen this face before, but for some reason today I'd had enough.

I helped most of the girls get ready, already taking over as Assistant Manager or whatever Darnell's sister called herself. Once they were gone, Maria and I shared a frozen dinner as she told me about Darnell's latest episode with her. She'd only been $20 short, but that was enough. He couldn't just let it slide or all the girls would think it was okay to come up short. At least he'd only hit her face once. The horrifying bruises he'd left on the rest of her body told the remainder of the tale.

It was then, about 45 minutes after they left, that I told her I was leaving. She just stared at me in shocked silence. It wasn't the fact that I was leaving that stunned her. It was the fact that I planned to steal some of the cash Darnell kept in his safe before I left. That was suicide and she knew it. I knew the combination because I'd been allowed to stand in the room dozens of times when he opened it. It was his sister's birthday, as sick as that might have been considering he's the one who had started pimping her out. But I knew, since it was only Monday, that he hadn't made a trip to the bank yet. That meant he could have well over $5,000 in his safe. The money from the weekend. I only planned to take some of it.

I told her to come with me. She'd only been in the life a few years. She could certainly turn things around. But she said no, worried about the theft more than anything else. Stealing from a pimp was never a good idea. It could even mean a death wish. But I needed more than $500 to leave. I would need clothes, rent, food, transportation...I wasn't stupid. I realized a new life would cost a little money. A few minutes after I spoke with Maria, I donned the only pair of jeans I owned, the only pair of sneakers I owned (a pretty cheap pair that had seen better days), an old tee shirt and a light jacket (it was cold, but it was the only jacket I had). I left everything else behind. I opened the safe pretty quickly, considering, and took $2,500 from his stash (there was considerably more in there, but I tried to keep my head about me). I gave Maria $100 and told her how to hide it in my mattress (which I suggested she fight for considering it was one of the newer ones). Then I opened to door of the tiny 1-bedroom apartment and walked out.

I sat on a bus very much like the bus that had taken me to New York so many years ago. I watched the boring landscape go by without much interest. I was sitting in the back, so most of the passengers had not noticed me. The ones who had looked away quickly, wondering about the damage done to my face. I didn't really think about them. I was too busy having a panic attack. This bus was heading to Stroudsburg...I was going "home." I had no idea what to expect. I didn't even know if my parents still lived there. But, I figured, if they did, they owed me. Hopefully the basement was still half-finished and I could stay down there until I healed and got on my feet. I knew it was a long shot. It's not like they'd come looking for me or anything. They'd probably told everyone I was dead by now. So, in terms of small town life, I was going to be nothing but an embarrassment. Still, I didn't really have any other options. If they said no, I would hole up in a hotel until I decided my next move. Perhaps I would leave the Northeast entirely.

When the bus stopped two hours later, I continued to sit after everyone else disembarked. I was scared. Almost as scared as I was when I'd first arrived in New York more than a decade ago. And yet, I knew there was no going back. There was nothing in New York for me now. And I had no idea if there was anything for me in Stroudsburg. The only way I was only going to find out was by getting off this bus and making my way to my parents' house. So, that's what I would do. I left the safety of the warm bus and began to walk the three miles to my childhood home. I walked past two new malls that had grown out nothing, glancing curiously at the Boscov, Target, Staples, Home Depot and other stores that reflected more change than I could have imagined. I finally found the relatively obscure road that lead past a number of other small homes and would eventually lead me to the front door I was searching for. I only had about another mile to walk, but I could feel my feet dragging. It was harder than I thought. What would they say when they opened the door and their long lost daughter was standing on the porch, beaten and bruised? Would they welcome me home? Or slam the door in my face? What had I been thinking when I decided to return here anyway? I'm not sure I had been thinking, at least not clearly. These two people had not taken care of me when I was a child, why would they take care of me now? I sighed, slowing down a bit, but still making my way toward the dingy white house with the peeling paint that appeared in some of my dreams...and my nightmares. I wondered if it still looked the same...

No. The paint was peeling worse than it had been. They had never found the money to re-do the outside, I guess. And now? There were concrete bricks holding up some of the beams, huge patches of shingles were missing from the roof, and the porch was missing a few boards. The house was weather beaten and worn down...clearly they had not won the lottery. In fact, it looked like things might have gotten worse since I left. I wasn't sorry about that at all.

I took a deep breath and climbed up the front stairs slowly. I took a few more deep breaths. What if they weren't home? It was only 6pm. They might have jobs or...I shrugged. What did it matter? If they weren't home, I would probably just wait. I rang the doorbell. Nothing. I waited a moment and rang it again. Then I realized that it hadn't been working when I left, so perhaps they'd never fixed it? I knocked on the door loudly. Nothing. I knocked again. Nothing. I turned, thinking I would go get something to eat and then return in a few hours, when I heard a lock turn. Then two others. The same number of locks they'd had on the door when I lived here so many years ago. I sighed, facing the front door again, straightening my shoulders. This was it I guess.

She was older. Okay, that was a dumb thought, but it was the first one that popped into my head. She was older and heavier. She'd gained weight. But she had the same dark brown eyes...my eyes. It was her. My mother. She stood only about 5 feet tall. Plump was probably the best word to describe her nowadays. Her hair, pulled back into a bun, was peppered with gray. She still had the same, creamy brown skin, a little darker than mine, and more frown lines around her mouth. It took her a moment, but I could see the light go off when she finally recognized me. Her mouth pinched closed and her body tensed. This had been the posture she assumed whenever she was upset with me. It wasn't the welcome I was hoping for, but it was the welcome I expected. We stood facing one another for a few moments until I couldn't take it anymore.

"Hi Mom."

I wasn't sure if it sounded sarcastic, I didn't mean it that way. Okay, maybe I did. She was slow to respond.

"What are you doing here Raynata?"

I shrugged, "I need a place to stay."

Her pinched face reflected the shock and horror at the idea that I'd "come home." Again not what I was hoping for, but certainly what I was expecting.

"You think I would let you stay here? I know what you've been doing, what you've become. You're going straight to hell for being a whore. You think I would let you bring that in my house?"

The words stung. I don't care if I claimed to be the most jaded person in the world, they fucking hurt. She knew what I'd been doing? Did that mean she knew where I'd been? And she hadn't come for me? And now, she stood here calling me a whore? As if I'd had any other options? I closed my eyes for a moment, steeling myself against her words. I needed to stay here for a little while until I got on my feet. If I could deal with violent pimps and dozens of johns I could certainly handle my parents...couldn't I?

"Mom, I just need to stay for a little while. I can stay in the basement if that bed is still down there. I can pay rent."

That made her pause, the idea of me paying rent. Just glancing into the living room behind her I could see they needed the money. It seemed they hadn't bought anything new since I'd left.

"It's just for a little while." I prompted again.

Another moment passed before she stepped aside and let me enter. I wish I could say a wave of warmth enveloped me and all I could remember was the good times, the happiness, the joy one feels when they return home after so long...but none of that happened. My stomach tightened and I remembered the horrors I'd fled from. I remembered that chilly night when I snuck out with nothing but a little money and the clothes on my back. I remembered hoping, as I sat on the bus, that they would miss me and regret everything they'd done. That they would come find me and everything would be great afterwards. I remembered that fantasy for just a moment as she closed the door behind me. I was trying to prepare myself to see my father again, chanting in my head a reminder that he couldn't hurt me anymore. I glanced around the small living room, taking in the dilapidated furniture and stained wall-to-wall carpet. The wooden wall unit was chipped and dusty. The walls were streaked with dirt. I noticed signs of leaks on the ceiling. The linoleum in the kitchen was peeling up in the corners. The stove was old and had grease caked on the burners. As I took in the rest, I also noticed the pictures of me, from elementary school and middle school, that had decorated the wall unit when I'd lived there, had been removed. A visitor would never know a child grew up in this home. And that was probably how they'd wanted it.