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Street Life To Housewife 2

Chapter one


I returned from Carmel feeling revived and ready to start life anew. I had spent three days with a celebrity who we are going to refer to as Bill. During the day I walked along the beach, swam, read, and shopped while he worked as a news anchorman.
Carmel was a beautiful little town, with lots of quaint shops where Bill had accounts where I could sign his name for anything I wanted, within reason of course. I spent hours choosing clothes, shoes, jewelry and had to buy an extra suitcase to get everything back home.
After Bill watched himself on the evening telecast we dined at seafood restaurants. The food was so fresh I could feel it swimming around my palate.
Afterwards we wandered through the local bars, and he drank until his freak came out. The next step on the scheduled ritual was to head back to his beach house where we snorted blow (cocaine) as I transformed Bill into ‘Billie’ - his alter persona.
A padded bra, blouse, women’s pants, wig, make up and voila, I had created, without a doubt the ugliest female on the planet. His voice changed and his bejeweled fingers emphasized his limp, bangle covered wrist.
When he was satisfied with the façade in the mirror, we set out to hunt his prey. Billie liked young, straight men. His fantasy was to be their first homosexual experience. He got off on corrupting forbidden fruit.
I had contacted the local male escort agency earlier in the day and when we landed at a bar, I snuck off to call the owner who had a young gigolo on stand-by.
The escort had my description and would have no trouble finding me, because there were not many black strangers in Carmel. The escort approached using a code word. I invited him to join us so Bill could seduce him.
The escort knew to make it a challenge for Bill by focusing on me and ignoring his advances for at least a half an hour before giving in to curiosity.
The last night that I was to be in town I could not get an answer at the agency and was forced to find someone for Bill on my own. That night I discovered that a lot of guys, if offered enough money would gladly hurdle the fence. I think they were on the down low already. I did not believe for a second that money was the real reason they consented. There had to be some homosexual seed already germinating inside of them.
Bill needed a girl like me along in case someone tried to harm him. I got five grand a day plus tips for three days of helping him fulfill his fantasies. It was my first time seeing men together, but I put my professional hat on and played cheerleader from the sidelines. It was not my taste, - old, wrinkled, sagging skin with age spots up against a young hard bodied muscular man. I probably would not have been so revolted if it were young men, but this fossil had no business with these boys, well not boys, but compared to his fifty-eight years, they were babies.
I guess it was no different when I was with old men. I had been with men seventy and eighty years old. The only difference was I could look at the ceiling or the doorknob, anything to take focus from what I was doing. I was a robot doing what I had to do to get to my next payday.
Most of my regular clients liked cocaine, which meant that they were preoccupied with the drug instead of me. They wanted company more than physical contact. Many wanted sex, but I knew how to get a man worked up so that he would explode before I had to saddle up, or soon after.
I gave the best two finger blow jobs and if I could get the guy into the right position he would get my fist and never know that he was not inside of me.
I learned all this and more from my uncle’s girls. I got my hustlin’ honest. Growing up with pimps, drug dealers, bank forgers and every other type of gangster in my family, it was only natural for me to be destined to pick up the tricks of the trade.
When I landed at LAX, I took a cab to Kalyn’s and she took me to the auto shop to pick up my car. The window had to be replaced. It was broken out when my uncles saved me from being choked to death by my ex who sat in the back seat strangling me with a tie.
Some of my cousins, had put Alonzo - my ex, on a bus back to his hometown in Louisville, Kentucky.
I fought back the desire to cry. As much as I loved Alonzo, even though his devastating betrayal had rocked me to my core, I knew that I could never be happy with a man who could treat me the way he had.
I called my parents and found out that Alonzo had not left without getting some revenge. The bastard had called my parents, who had been beeping me for the last two days, and told them I was a prostitute. I lied and told them that I was hosting parties. They did not believe me.
I gave Kalyn her cut from the out of town job and drove to Inglewood to pick up a package from Christian - my play brother who had been my drug supplier for years. He was glad that Alonzo was out of my life.
I dropped off packages in Los Angeles before Christian’s wife, Laisyv and I went to Mz. Kizzy’s Back Porch in the marina for dinner.
We both ordered the succulent neck bones, with sides of macaroni and cheese, mixed greens, and the lightest cornbread I had ever laid my lips on. We washed it all down with a pitcher of red Kool-Aid.
We went back to her house to watch a movie, but the rich food knocked us both out. I spent the night and drove home to the valley the next morning.
I planned to take a few days off and go fishing with my grandmother and the next day I would take my cousins and their friends to the movies.
Monday morning I planned to look for an apartment and a square job. Today I was going to climb into my bed and sleep, something I sorely needed to do.
I cried out in my sleep and my grandmother came in and shook me, when I finally woke I fell into her arms and she held me until I stopped crying and trembling.
“What you dreaming about?”
“Just a dream,” I was relieved to be out of the nightmare, and fortunate that was all it was.
“You have to tell someone about your nightmare or when you go back to sleep you will dream the same thing again, giving the dream too much power, which can make it come true.”
“I was dreaming that Alonzo was trying to kill me.”
She giggled, “Again?” I laughed with her.
“Well hopefully he’ll keep his ass in Kentucky and won’t get another chance.”
“You have to be careful baby, that boy ain’t wrapped tight. He blames you for his failures. I wouldn’t put it past him to come back. You know your grandfather, Melvin and I used to get into fights, we had some real humdingers but he never tried to actually kill me. Well, I don’t think so anyway. He did have a lot of hoodoo mess in the attic. When I showed it to my mother, she said he had not done it right. She took it to him and told him that she knew how to make his dick fall off if he didn’t stop messing around.”
“What about Mr. Willie?”
“He tried to fight with me a couple of times when he was drunk. I would wait for him to pass out and beat the hell out of him. When he woke he had bruises and no clue where they came from. You know both my marriages lasted exactly twenty one years.”
“You ever want to get married again?”
“I ain’t thinking about men, they ain’t worth the trouble.”
“I know what you mean.”
“No, now you hush about that. You got a lot of living to do before you throw in the towel. You picked a good apple that turned bad, that don’t mean there is anything wrong with you. A strong woman loves hard. You got to remember the good times you shared, be grateful, and move on.”
“Things were good with Alonzo. I just knew we would be together forever.”
“You want to hear God laugh? Tell him your plans for the future. He already got your life planned out for you. Life is meant to be a string of good and bad times. You got a lot more good times in your future. Don’t let one bad event make you bitter. I had my life turn around on me more times than I can count, but I know that God gave us good hearts and somehow we share that touch with everyone who comes into our lives. One day you are going to touch more than most, I’ve seen it in my visions, God is going to use you to help a lot of people.”
“Mother, you know I don’t believe in God.”
“I don’t know why you don’t believe, I don’t even think you know why you don’t believe. Baby, we don’t know what in life is going to test our faith, but I know you are not a quitter, you just keep living and mark my words.”
My grandmother was something else, I had seen her catch people stealing out of her purse, or shoplifting from her store and she would turn around and give them more than they were trying to steal. I had also seen those same people come back and tell her that it was because of her that they had gotten their lives together, and had come to pay her back, usually a lot more than she had given.
When she had her café people would come in and order a piece of toast and a cup of coffee, she knew when people were hitting on hard times. She knew that in the blink of an eye, anyone could have the rug pulled from under them. She would plop down a plate of grits, eggs, ham and French toast in front of them.
When they said, “I didn’t order this,” she knew in translation they meant, “I can’t pay for this.”
“Well, you might as well eat it, I can’t serve it to anyone else, health department would close me down. You go on and eat,” she said leaving them with their dignity.
Sometime she would drop money by their chair or come up with an errand or job they could do so she could pay them a little something.
Mother always said that what she gave out would come back tenfold. She also said a good plate of food could change a person’s life. All you had to do was think pure thoughts and stay joyful while you were preparing it, “Never cook when you are mad, you could kill somebody that way. You are not just feeding the stomach, you are feeding the soul.”
Mother had helped hundreds of people, though I had seen her heart broken time and time again by her friends, husbands and children, but she never stopped giving with what she called, “a pure heart,” never expecting anything in return.
“You must be tired, go on back to sleep. Tomorrow is another day that God made, you’ll see, things will look better in the morning,” she rose to leave.
“Yeah baby?”
“Can you stay with me tonight?”
She climbed under the covers and pulled my head onto her chest. I felt like a little girl again. I had always felt so safe in her arms.

Kim Robinson, © 2004, all rights reserved.
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