Hood Lemonade Jamika's Vendetta Page 14

  “In a case of this magnitude, I do not see why not. The amount of cash may be a little high.”

  Jamika and Marshal Feelswell negotiated until she was promised immediate release without probation, expungement of her record, her lease paid for one year on a furnished, one-bedroom apartment that she’d reside in during the sting, and $10,000 cash. Everything would be in writing and notarized.

  “Does this mean you’ll do it?” the DA asked, exhausted. He hadn’t expected Jamika to be so smart and vibrant. Jamika’s expressionless face slowly turned to one of determination. She thought for a moment and finally spoke, “Let’s do this!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jamika spent the next month in a secluded soundproof room, usually used for housing inmates in protective custody. Agent Conner’s sister, Juicylicious, agreed to get some tracks for Jamika to use during her performances. She remembered Jamika opening for her back when she was trying to make it with Daddy Dee.

  When her brother explained that Jamika and other talented girls were being targeted by Daddy Dee to transport drugs, she quickly agreed to assist in any way possible.

  Jamika had been given a small radio and practiced daily to perfect her performances. She had six songs ready to perform. This time was also being used for her and Agent Conner to become acquainted, so that they would appear natural when they were together. He would come to Jamika’s room almost every day.

  They would discuss scenarios, plans, and techniques. Sometimes, they’d just sit and talk. He always came dressed in hip-hop clothing and they were now calling one another by their first names.

  This was Jamika’s last day in the detention center. Tomorrow, her six months on the streets would begin. She looked up from her writing pad as Agent Conner entered.

  “What’s up, Mika?”

  “Nuttin’, Will,” she said.

  “Nuttin’, Will,” he said, imitating Jamika’s voice and attitude filled expression. Then he smiled, “You ready, ma?”

  “Yes, I want him more than y’all do.”

  “Okay, just remember what we’ve talked about and always act natural, just be you,” he said.

  “Damn, Will, I got it. How many times do we have to go over this?”

  “I just don’t want to see anything happen to you, Mika.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet. I, on the other hand, do not want to have to come back to prison. So as far as I’m concerned, he is as good as got!”

  “Alright then, it’s on like hot grits,” Agent Conner said excitedly.

  “I know you didn’t just say like hot grits. I thought you were from New York?”

  “What? Do you think we don’t eat grits in New York?” he asked.

  “Whatever, Will. Just don’t make no corny ass comments like that while we’re out together.”

  “Girl, you are too much. I’m out, I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

  “No doubt,” Jamika said, with a faked New York accent.

  ***

  Jamika exited the detention center into the beautiful, sunny weather that made Miami notorious. She was given $2,000 up front to use for food, personals and performing wear. As she walked along, the first thing that she wanted was food. She wanted something that wasn’t made in bulk in a prison kitchen.

  She decided to take a taxi to Ft. Lauderdale. She was astonished at how much things had changed in only two years. Interstate 95 now looking like something out of the future, with all of its twisting overhead intersecting highways. There were new buildings that took place of old ones, and a lot of the streets had been widened. Everything seemed new. People were using cell phones in cars, on bicycles and even walking. Some people had cell phones before she left, but it now seemed that everyone had one. She felt like she was in a different world. She’d never thought so much could change in what seemed like such a short amount of time.

  She ordered the taxi to stop at a familiar seafood spot that she remembered on the historic Sistrunk Boulevard, not far from the railroad tracks. She ordered fried shrimp and conch. She then decided she wanted to see her family before she retired to the apartment where she’d be living. She knew that Big Momma still lived in the same place and decided to make that her first stop.

  As the taxi rolled forward, Jamika savored every bite of the seafood. It tasted like heaven in her mouth. She looked out the window at the little kids playing and riding bicycles. She noticed women in halter-tops and short shorts. It was definitely good to be back in South Florida. She envisioned herself in sexy clothing. All that working out in prison had paid off.

  The taxi was now riding past Dillard High School. It seemed like yesterday when she was there being educated and learning music in the Dillard School of the Arts. A few cars littered the parking lot, meaning that summer school must have been over for the day. The taxi turned onto Big Momma’s street. Jamika’s heart became very heavy.

  She’d called her family only a few times during her incarceration. Seeing them would be more joyous than anything she could experience outside of those prison walls. The taxi stopped outside of Big Momma’s house, which was now painted white and purple, a pretty contrast to how she remembered it in yellow and white. Everything else looked the same.

  Jamika paid the taxi driver, and headed for the house in almost a sprint, forgetting the empty food containers that she held so tightly only moments before. She opened the screen door, and stepped in. She didn’t see anyone seated in the narrow living room.

  The aroma of Big Momma’s fried chicken hit her so hard, it nearly knocked her over. She felt renewed hunger pains over the light seafood she’d just ferociously devoured. She followed the aroma to the kitchen, where she found Big Momma at the kitchen counter, making a pitcher of her refreshing lemonade made of fresh cut lemons.

  She looked on quietly, inhaling the sight of her elderly great-grandmother, like the fragrant odor of the assorted meal she was preparing. Big Momma’s hair seemed greyer than she remembered.

  Jamika finally spoke through the tears that seemed to be choking her, “Hey, Big Momma.” Big Momma turned with the surprised look of thinking that she was hearing things. Next, she pushed her glasses up on her nose to assure her that she wasn’t seeing things. Then, she held out her arms, and let out that joyful, jolly laugh that Jamika had loved from the very first time she’d met her.

  “My Me-Me!” she exclaimed. They embraced for a long moment. Big Momma started making Jamika a plate of food. “Goodness, dear. Ain’t nobody tell me you was comin’ on home. I woulda made a big ole dinner, and invited everybody over. I’m gon’ hurt that daughter of mine, for not tellin’ me,” she said in her sweet, jolly voice.

  “She didn’t know, Big Momma… Uh…I was let out on parole.”

  “Oh…well, sit down ‘ere and eat up. I can see that them folks ain’t been feedin’ you right. Look at cha, looking all skinny. I like ya betta wit a lil’ mo’ meat on yo bones. I know y’all yungins thank skinny look good, but a man prefer somethin’ he can hold onto. Oh, Me-Me, I am so happy to see ya baby. Let me go call Marjorie and Rasheeda. Rasheeda gon’ be so happy to see ya. She talk about ya all the time, and…” Big Momma rambled on, heading to her room to use the telephone.

  Jamika smiled, and began to eat. She spoke softly to herself, “I’m happy to see you too, Big Momma.”

  By the time Marjorie and Rasheeda arrived, Big Momma and Jamika were laughing at stories Big Momma told of various relatives, and incidents that had happened while she was away.

  Marjorie looked exactly the same, as if she hadn’t aged a day. Her hairstyle was that of a much younger woman, and she was dressed classy as always. Rasheeda, on the other hand, had grown taller than Jamika. She suddenly realized that she’d never see Felise walk through Big Momma’s door again. The pain seemed to feel fresh and new again. She longed to see her mother walk through that door.

  She pushed the thought from her mind, as she stood up to hug her grandmother and younger sister. She explained to them the same lie about being let out on paro
le. She told them that she’d been given a loan, given to ex-federal inmates, and she’d gotten her own apartment in the town of Weston.

  They all thought that to be odd, because Weston was a very expensive place to live. She explained that she had a manager, and that she’d be doing paid gigs while she looked for work. She could tell that none of the women in the room took to her sudden new expensive apartment, trying singing again, right out of prison attitude. But, no one verbalized their feelings. They were all just glad to see her. Jamika barely called home while she was away, and they all just wanted to cherish this time together.

  Jamika hated lying to the people that she loved most. But, she knew that if she told them the truth, they would try to talk her out of it. The conversation did eventually drift to Marjorie’s new job at the Division of Forestry and Rasheeda’s last year of middle school.

  Felise wasn’t mentioned, which Jamika found strange. Then a name was bought up that Jamika had night after night coached herself to forget.

  “Did you tell her that Mark was trying to find her?” said Rasheeda.

  “Oh yeah, Meek. First off, let me tell you that brother there is Ebony’s man of the year. He is too smooth and fly. Dresses like a million bucks, drives a nice car, and does not have a wedding ring. I checked. He owns some type of private investigation business. Now ask me how a man that young and fine, got to be that successful, I just—”

  “Grandma,” Jamika interrupted, “will you get to the point please?” Jamika really did not want to hear this, and was hoping to get through this part of the conversation as quickly as possible.

  “Well, he somehow found out where we live, being that he’s a private investigator and all. For the first year that you were away, he would come by at least once a month asking for you. I didn’t want to tell the man that you were in prison. Finally, he comes one day with a smile saying that he’s found you. Most of the money that you were receiving was him. He’s been buying Rasheeda’s school clothes and has become a really good friend of the family. He even comes over here to sit with Big Momma. You need to give that man a chance; he’s crazy about you, Meek.”

  “He’s crazy alright,” Jamika retorted, “he’s got you all fooled. Mark has always had a way of charming ladies. I do not want any part of Mark, and please do not tell him that I am home.”

  Marjorie realized Jamika was as stubborn as Felise had been, and thought she’d better try to talk some sense into her. “But, Meek, any man that goes through all of the trouble for you has got to—”

  “Grandma, please. Please do not tell him that I am home. I got a lot of things that I need to take care of. I really don’t need the distraction right now.” Especially one that’s going to hurt me again, Jamika was thinking. Being hurt two times in one lifetime by the same guy was enough for Jamika. She’d thrown Mark off her list a long time ago; she wondered why he even wasted his time. They both knew all too well that she would never be his type.

  She remembered that about a year into her time, she had received a letter from him. The letter stated that he’d grown to be mature and humble. He said that he had realized he’d hurt her in the past, but she was who he really loved. He explained how back in the day he only did what young boys do, “play the field”, and that he now knew without a doubt that Jamika was his true love.

  He’d sent $500 with that letter. Jamika never responded. There were other letters that followed, but they all remained unopened. She’d forced herself to harden that soft spot that she held for Mark Rosier. The last time she softened herself for a man, Deonte happened.

  Jamika was tired of the same thing over and over again. Jamika figured that there must not be any good men. She thought about her deadbeat father, her sexually abusive Uncle Hubert, Marquis and Mark who emotionally scarred her, Zahrice who tried to murder her, Quinton who died on her, and Deonte who sent her to prison. Men had always been just one bad experience after another for her. All she wanted in a man now was sexual satisfaction.

  Jamika tuned back into the conversation, which was shopping this upcoming weekend. Jamika agreed to join. They all continued to talk, laugh and reminisce until the sun had set and again began to rise.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Three months had passed since Jamika was released from prison, and she couldn’t believe how swiftly the time was passing. She rode her stationary exercise bike and looked through the double glass doors of her bedroom. Beyond the doors, there was a beautiful lake. She would do most of her meditating on that bike, looking out at the serene lake.

  She’d done five performances, in shows where Daddy Dee’s newest prodigy, Sensual had performed. Sensual was a three-female vocal group, which reminded Jamika of En Vogue, with a touch of hip-hop flavor. The group confused Jamika, since Daddy Dee usually only preyed on one female at a time. Maybe he was really helping this group. They had an outstanding sound.

  They had been a hard act to both upstage and follow, at the past five performances. Yet, Jamika had gone on each time confident and vibrant, bringing the audience to their feet each time with her soulful performances. She’d done three additional performances at other places, not to make Daddy Dee suspicious.

  Juicylicious had mentioned to Daddy Dee that her brother was a talent manager, and Jamika was his client. She told him that she was helping to set up spots for him, as she did for Deonte’s new group, and that some of the performances would be in the same places. Juicy acted as if she didn’t remember Jamika being with Daddy Dee. Her look had changed and her stage name had gone from her first name to Mink, after the expensive fur coat. Jamika wondered if Daddy Dee was buying this.

  Jamika hadn’t had a chance to say more than a brief hello to him since this had all begun. He’d always appear busy with his group, and when they performed on stage, he would watch side stage, as if in a trance. Afterward, he’d be gone before she realized he had left. Tonight would be different, Jamika told herself. She’d get his attention somehow tonight. She had to. If she did not start somewhere, she was on her way back to prison.

  The makeup artist, Maria, had just finished Jamika’s makeup. She sat alone in the dressing room marked “Guest”, praying like she’d begun to do before each performance. She stood to look at herself. It always seemed to surprise her how beautiful she was when she transformed into “Mink”.

  For tonight’s performance, Jamika wore a silver, satin skirt set. The skirt fell to her ankles, but held a high split that ran to the upper thigh of her right leg. There were stitches with strings cut out on both sides of the skirt, which made it appear as if Jamika had no underwear on. The shirt was a midriff, with the back out, with stitches across to match the sides of the skirt. Her tight stomach and back were adorned proudly with silver glitter, which would play beautifully against her dark skin with the stage lights.

  Her silver, stiletto heels were finally broken in. Jamika felt the familiar rush of knowing that it was almost time for her to perform.

  Tonight’s opening performance was for an A-list rapper, at the Miami Arena. Over 100,000 people had shown up, and the crowd was ecstatic. A local rap group called Sinners was currently performing, and then it would be Jamika’s turn. Being that it was a rap concert, Jamika had chosen two upbeat party numbers to perform, one that had a rap breakdown that she had written and perfected herself. Sensual performed after her tonight, so Jamika was intent on talking to Daddy Dee tonight.

  She heard the applause as the rap group finished their first number, immediately followed by a tap on the door. “Who?” Jamika yelled toward the door.

  “Me,” she heard Agent Conner’s familiar voice say.

  “Come in, Will.” He walked in, wearing an orange and black Polo shirt and jeans, with matching sneakers. His haircut and goatee were immaculate as usual. They had become friends through this whole setup.

  “Damn girl, you aren’t having it tonight! You going to give these niggaz straight havoc, ma.”

  Jamika stood, smiled, did a model walk, posed and turned. “You
like?” she asked. “Do I like? You are definitely going to be the most remembered part of the show. You have about four minutes; we better make it to the stage.”

  Jamika took a quick glance in the light studded mirror. She patted her hair that had been dyed bronze, and done into a delicate up-do. The bug, which had been planted for any conversation that she may have with Daddy Dee, was planted securely inside.

  As she reached the stage, the applause once again rang out. Jamika’s heart began to thump a healthy, nervous rhythm. She could hear the announcer returning to the microphone. “I like dat. Dem boys going places. Next, coming to the stage, we have a chocolate lady that many of you have seen around. She’s got a soulful voice, and a body that defines the word brick house. Y’all, give it up…for…Mink!”

  Jamika heard the upbeat begin, and bopped out into the bright lights of the gigantic stage. She moaned the first notes of the song soulfully. She then went into singing the soulful song she’d helped to write. Jamika could tell the crowd was feeling her; people were already up on their feet. The energy was tremendous. The bridge approached for the rap, and Jamika spat the lyrics out like she was born to rap. She rhymed:

  I’m a down south chick, stacked like a brick

  Collard greens and cornbread keep me thick

  Scandalous, classy chick, pop-the-wrist,

  Ain’t gotta show ass to get ‘em bitch

  Chunky Miss, T-real Thugghette with a twist

  Yeah, I’m lady-like but I can drop these fists

  You ask for evidence? Nigga is evident!

  Have ‘em stutterin’, m-m-m-m-magnificence

  Intelligence, Perfectionist, Lyricist

  Yeah I know… You sure you still wanna fuck wit dis?

  Jamika always forgot about the reason she was there when she performed, she always did her best. This was, after all, her dream. When she finished, people were on their feet once again, applauding and yelling. This was what Jamika loved most. She loved for people to enjoy and appreciate her talent. She left the stage feeling fulfilled and excited.