Chapter 25

“Don’t you know little girls aren’t supposed to get all dirty and yucky like a boy?” Karisma glanced up at Sydney as she scrubbed the drained tub and prepared to fill with it fresh hot water to finish bathing her. Once again Sydney had managed to get filthy from head to toe in a matter of hours.

Her tools were on the closed toilet lid: dove soap, antibacterial shampoo and hydrating conditioner, net scrubber, fine toothed comb, and rubber tugboat. She knelt on towels spread on the floor and had another pile of towels on standby. Whereas you would have had to drag most very young children into the bathtub and struggle to keep them there long enough to get them clean, Sydney never fussed and enjoyed the attention. She had also gone along excitedly when Karisma told her she was going to a salon and wore her new bobbed hair proudly at the bar-b-que joint where they had lunch together afterwards.

“Come on, angel.” Karisma said after testing the temperature of the water. She wanted the toddler’s fragile skin to be red from vigorous scrubbing and health, not burns. “Let’s get you clean before Daddy comes back.”

There was a knot in her stomach that told her something was going on, although she had no clue what or where. Her only concern here and now was the child. Hopefully her husband hadn’t run into any sort of trouble, however he was a grown man and could make his own decisions. Once her stepdaughter was in bed then she would tend to her own frazzled nerves with the baggie of medicine she’d stashed in the bottom of her suitcase.

One line.

Two lines.

Three lines

Neat and ready to go on the nightstand.

Sydney, aided by Nite-Quil and Benadryl, slept behind her in the same bed she sat on the edge of. The door of the hotel room was unlocked, in case Jarrod turned up, though honestly, she hoped he wouldn’t since he’d probably blow her high. More than likely he was up to no good which was bound to cause an argument and she didn’t want to deal with that sort of thing. When they fought, she understood perfectly why her mother had never wanted a man around breathing the same air and helping her to do worse than she could have done by herself. She was madly in love with Jarrod and had ignored the red flags for the sake of having the security and validation of a man around. As she did her Coke and felt the searing rush numb the deep lifelong scars on her souls, Karisma acutely aware of the fact that psychologically she was in no shape to be playing happy home with another woman’s child. For no other reason than to punish herself, she looked again at the picture of Ibrahim and Hayvn she’d shown her in-laws, taken earlier the same evening they left this world.

For 11 years minus 1 week you brought a lot of joy and touched so many people. You were so full of life just like your G’Mama use to be and everyone loved your radiant smile and infectious giggle. You barely knew me by my own choice and yet every single time you saw me there was a big smile on your face and you were looking for hugs and kisses. You were an extremely loving child and loved by many in return. I wish I’d known you better, been the mother you deserved though in my humble opinion your G’Mama and Uncle Ibrahim did an excellent job of raising you, and faced my demons rather than let them fester. Nobody knows how much I wish I could turn back the hands of time and force my young self to bring what was done in darkness to light……

“What is wrong with your dumb a*s?” The high ebbed enough for Karisma to stop blathering non-sense to an inanimate object. Her unwanted child was as dead as a doorknob same as her mother, sister, and two of her brothers and none of them were ever coming back. She hated herself for the way she had shown vulnerability more than once over the past few days. “You were a child, a f*****g child, forced to give birth to a retarded inbreed by your b***h of a mother and you ought to be glad they’re all dead!”

She stood and went into the bathroom to check if she still looked like a 27-year-old nurse with her act together or a strung-out coke head. Although she knew what she was doing was carried many health risks, something else weighed heavier on her mind. If she ever showed any signs of substance abuse her career would be over and she would never practice nursing again. The hospital she worked at observed its’ staff very closely and was notorious for giving frequent random drug screenings.

Her light brown eyes were as clear as ever, kinky black hair in two strand twists, and put together instead of disheveled. She looked fine, but could not help picking apart and scrutinizing her appearance. As the darkest of her and her four siblings, she had always thought in the back of her mind that she was ugly and no man would ever want her. Nowhere near as many compliments had been paid to her as a child as had been paid to No-No, who ironically had not appreciated the attention and insisted she was ugly. Perhaps the most insulting of all was her own brother was the first male she had ever known intimately and even he had said she was black and ugly while stealing her innocence.

“What are you crying about?” Mama would ask. “You look like me and I know I ain’t ugly! You hear how many folks think I’m lying and tell me how I don’t look nowhere near my age. Black don’t crack, sweetie!”

Karisma could not see her mother’s beautiful rich chocolate face and ‘come hither’ expresso eyes anywhere in her own face staring back at her from the mirror. She had long ago accepted she was not meant to be beautiful and loved. Whatever seductive mojo her mother had been blessed with had not been passed down to her.

Back in the room itself, Karisma slipped into bed beside her charge and closed her eyes to let her mind wander.

The sound of the door opening and closing quickly roused her a few hours later.

She could barely suppress a horrified shriek.

Aghast as her eyes adjusted more to the darkness and she recognized Jarrod standing over Sydney and her in bed she asked, “Good Lord, what the f**k did you do?”

His clothes were saturated with drying blood and since he was here alive and well before her eyes, she knew it had to be someone else who had lost their life that night. Nobody who sustained the amount of blood loss Jarrod’s clothes were covered in would live to tell the tale. It was impossible.

Without answering her rhetorical question, Jarrod disappeared in the bathroom to get clean up.

Mind racing and calculating how long they had to get out of town before the SWAT team kicked in the door to haul her husband off to jail, Karisma logged into Facebook to deactivate her page. In doing this she got the answer to the question on the tip of her tongue. Before the circumstances of the situation, she was most anxious to know who. Facebook didn’t disappoint.

RIP Isaac Diaz

Can’t believe u gone, big homie

We gon get these b***h a*s n****s! Bet his lying a*s mama and brother had something to do wit it

Amaris’s memorial page was flooded with hateful and threatening messages from Isaac’s cronies. He was dead and they were out for blood. Icy needles shot through her body.

When Jarrod emerged from the bathroom in fresh clothes, he found Karisma roughly dressing Sydney and throwing things back into their suitcases,

“What the f**k are you standing there for?” She snapped face ashen. “We’ve got to get the hell out of dodge!”

Thirty minutes later they were on the road home.

Author's Note

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Reviews

[SweetNutmeg]

“You were a child, a f*****g child, forced to give birth to a retarded inbreed by your b***h of a mother and you ought to be glad they’re all dead!”

Wow. But that is nothing compared to murder. And I really feel for Karisma. She's a very sympathetic character despite all her vices and flaws. I think it is hard to portray troubled people as people first. Good job.