In the morning, it works like this.
You wake up, check. Sometimes a watchers comes into the room and you have to play hide and seek. According to Dexter… as usual. This happens all the time and I just found this out--We have gay vamps in the hammock area. In middle of the night, he sneaked over and put his hands under the blanket and started jacking this nigga off and the nigga that was getting jacked off was holding the back of his shirt.
I'm not confused. I'm just depressed.
We wake up and we all sit in the play space. That. Is. What. It is. Called. We sit in the play space and don't do anything.
"Rank!" Rank turns around. "Can I have some dick?"
It's woman with incredibility nappy hair. Her skin is light brown and her wrinkles are prominent. "Please." she says.
"What is wrong with that old woman?" Dexter rests his head in his hands. "Carla, go watch tv." he directs.
"But it's been a long time."
"GO WATCH TV!"
Carla leaves crying, "I can't feel shit!"
"What did you do to her?" I ask. "Nothing!" Rank panics. "Goddamn she old as cotton and confused because she's like fucking Glean!"
"She asked you specifically."
"She ask everybody!" he fumes. "Remember that one time she was walking in her underwear talking about a dog was after her? She got wolves in her. Covered in paw prints--this shit is nasty!"
"What's wrong with her!"
"Don't nobody know!"
Dexter drums the table. "I don't know what they want from us."
"Y'all keep mentioning the soul. It just don't leave you--"
"They don't want a fight…" says Rank. "I want some weed."
"I can't believe Glean ain't back yet. I didn't see him this morning." says Dexter. "What we finna do today?"
"Die." Dexter doesn't change his expression. "I slept good last night, I almost thought I was home."
"You never said how long you been--"
"SO! I heard Ms. Simpson said we might get to do arts and crafts but nothing too uplifting!" he shouts. "I hope I cut myself." says Rank. "I stole a knife from the kitchen yesterday."
"Where!"
"In my pocket. Taped to my leg. I've just been so tired." Rank flutters his eyes. I smack him and force him to get up. I feel his legs and find the knife on the lower left leg. "Give it to me before I bite!"
"What you doing, grabbing on me nigga?"
"Shut up!" I raise his pants leg. He's got the knife taped down like hell. I rip it off his leg. "What were you going to do?" I holler.
"Hush…" says a watcher. "Abner is talking about suicide…"
"SHUT UP!" Dexter yells.
"He wants to leave…" one with pink barrettes turns. "Abner says… Suicide is the end. Suicide is forever in the dark."
Another with braids speaks, a boy. "Even Suicide can commit suicide. The ends of ends."
"SHUT HE FUCK UP!" Dexter marches over kicks one of the watchers. "Ow…"
"Do you see what you do?" he exasperates. "Do you feel? Do you understand anything! What is the sun? What is love? Do you know where you are?"
"Abner…" he points at the tv. "Abner lives on High Cedar Plantation." I get up and grab Dexter's wrist. "Are you gay?" he asks. Dexter snatches his arm from me. "At High cedar, they drink the cow's blood." says an old woman with thin grey hairs. "I want that…"
"Do y'all understand it's a fucking nigga in a costume!" Dexter tires his throat. "It's a bitch in a cow suit! Stop watching this shit!"
"If we like him. He likes us. The blood of another."
What in burning shit is that tv doing? Oh my God…
"Hey… what did Ms. Simpson tell you?" I shake Dexter. "What?"
"You said something about arts and crafts."
"They only do that." he curls his lip at the watchers. "stupid motherfuckers would probably eat the cow's shit if they wanted!"
Ms. Simpson comes to the room, "Alrighty Tighty, it's time to praise youngins." she's so cheery with her hands on her sides. "Uh-Ms. Simpson can we go to arts and crafts."
"You have to watch Abner." she says. "For how long?"
"All of it." No. It can't be that simple. You can't just go to blockbuster and take a movie you have to stand in line, get a membership, and pay to rent. And that means they keep tabs on you. Everyone, watchers, get up and follow Ms. Simpson for arts and crafts. "Ms. Simpson! What do they do in arts and crafts?"
"Stop doing that…" she warns. I turn to Dexter. He looks at me. "I never been!"
"Glean, you said he ate somebody watching the tv."
"after three days. After that they took Glean to therapy and he didn't remember." said Rank. "What about the kids?"
"Nigga what is you doing?" Dexter prodded. "Do you wanna leave are not!"
.
.
.
"I'm telling you right now, I'm not watching that shit." Dexter bossed. "What are you planning?"
"I'm prepared to die…" I ignore Rank's bitch behavior. "You knew my family." I say. "What happened at the house?"
He exhales, "Shikki, your mother was taken to the backyard. I got shot opening the front door."
"You remember that?"
"I don't know you people…" says Dexter.
"Men in military fit came busting in. A nigga--" he closes his mouth. "Excuse me I almost lied. Askii, Juls's father…" I stare at him with wide eyes. "What you forgot?" Rank smirks. "Y'all brothers. But your mother tried to keep y'all from that. She don't blame you."
"You just told me that Askii is my father."
"One time he kidnapped Shikki from the house. Changed her name and…" he sighs deeply. This nigga can't breathe. "Damn right I can't breathe!" he upbraided. "You ain't sweatin' me, this shit irritating. Yo mama always in fucking something."
"You act like she does it on purpose!"
"You know what," he puts his index over his lip. "Let me hush."
"What the hell…" Dexter slides his eyes over. "You adopted?"
"Dexter shut up!"
"You might be…"
"All I'm saying is. Aleigha and Shikki always finding trouble. Olisha is too."
"And?"
"Aleigha been to jail before. They caught him with 26 murder cases. Shikki got kidnapped by some bitch a long time ago and being a retired rapper; Aleigha called some his crew and we found the pastor of a church he went to trying to---"
"What?"
"At least no baby came out of it that we know of."
"The hell…?" Dexter muses.
"Aleigha was beyond upset. And he just kind of got out and found out he had a damn daughter. Shit was crazy."
"Go on…"
"Yo graddaddy is scary. HE don't care and raped several niggas."
"Ok…" I really don't see an issue. Especially with the mention of jail. Shit happens. "The pastor was formerly the mayor of Virginia and got caught in some pedophilia scandal." explains Rank.
"You mean he did it, and lied about it." Dexter conferred.
"So granddaddy raped a man for attacking mama." I shrug.
"Yeah and started all this fuck shit with the realm."
Oh…
After sitting in the play area with nothing to play with. We moved to a room on the plantation that was in the back of the house next to the gardens. I couldn't help but wonder whose memory was in the fields.
The house was warm with a fireplace and an old white lady with fake teeth, "Come in, come in, take a seat on the floor and let's tell a story." What in the great depths of hell? "Dexter what's happenings?"
"This is actually funny…" he snickers. We all take a seat on the hard wooden floor. "My name is Miss Tannenbay. I like to tell stories."
No one says anything. "Let's start." she clears her throat. "Once upon a time, there was a woman."
I am scared.
"Her name was Tiffany. And she was my daughter. Tiffany was born without the use of her legs and diagnosed with cerebral palsy."
"Why is this funny?" I whisper to Dexter. "Because she's a fucking hypocrite."
"Tiffany was my daughter. She was very sick and at the time, I was 86 year old. One day Tiffany threw herself out her wheelchair. I said, Tiffy don't do that. And she started yelling at me."
"Well did you help her up!" I shouldn't have said anything. There are so many eyes on me. Did I say something wrong?
"Tiffany was smart. Because she crawled on her stomach to get to the plug." Ms. Tannenbay waves her hands in the air. "And she started flopping on the ground. I'm 86 years old, she threw herself on the floor. I didn't help Tiffany. I went upstairs and went to sleep. I went downstairs in the middle of the night for a glass of juice. And Tiffany was in the kitchen."
I want to leave.
"Tiffany had peed on all over the floor. I mopped the floor and saw she had peed in the livingroom. I was very upset and 86 years old. My daughter was 23 at the time. I got my juice and moved Tiffany by the front door. I went back to bed after I had my juice." she clears her throat again. "The next morning Tiffany was naked and standing up. And I thought this was strange. I asked, Tiffany, why are you standing? Tiffany why did you throw yourself out of your perfectly good wheelchair. She was using the doorknob to stand up. I am 86 years old--"
"Are you a vampire?" somebody asks and I wished they didn't. "Yes. Fuck, you found out." she crosses her arms and pouts. "I thought somebody would be stupid."
"You got another story?"
"Well, I knew a man named Gerald and Gerald was black.
I want out.
"Gerald and me were having sex one day and Gerald gave me STD."
Where is this going?
"i had crabs, I was living Gerald and…" she pauses, her body leans. She straightens in the chair and goes on, "Gerald called the police on me because I bit him. So I went to jail."
What the fuck?
"I was charged with house containment. I had my grandmother in a coffin and her body did all the chores around the house."
Is she here like as part of a program? Where prisoners talk to the young about prison so they don't go to jail?
"What was jail like?" asked a girl with her chin in her hands. "It was horrible. Vampires go to the penitentiary and inside it's very hot."
Why are we here?
"There are werewolves in the pen. There's even a rare fairy from Locucts in there and she has girlfriends."
Oh lord…
"I used to be a baby girl. And she taught me about the Obayifo. I learned spells, I even scraficed my body but I lost myself. What you all need to understand is… you get no second chance. You have a brain, and you always should use it."
And brain is telling me to leave!
"You lives." She counts on her fingers. "You have your brain, this is your first life. Being aware." she smiles. "You have a soul, this is the second life. Then you have your body that surrounds the soul, that's your third life." she says.
"What's the fourth?" I utter mistakenly outloud. "Well, that would probably be your actions." she nods "We have three lives and cats have nine."
I look at my feet. I need to take a bath or wash my toes…
"I'm dying. I… am not sorry for anything." she chuckles. "I came for rehabilitation. I'm dying."
"Tell one more story before you go!"
"Ok." I can't even see chains. "When I was in jail. I meant a man, his name was Sebastian and Sebastian and I were in love but Mable--"
"She said the trigger word." Dexter utters in my ear. "Mable was a bitch and honestly I wasn't gay." she shakes her head. "Tiffany…" I hear a static voice. "Stop acting crazy."
"They have a ritual they use to strip your voice."
"Tiffany!" the voice gets louder. "This isn't rehab! They kill you like this! My family was starving, I kidnapped half a dozen people…" her words are quick. "I don't have my magic. I'm anorexic!"
The door we came through opens. "I have wings!" her clothes rip off with the spread of her wings. "Pin her down!" the officers rush into the room and tackle Tiffany. We get up and huddle against the wall. "Cut her back."
I can see her partly, the muscle in shoulder is twitching. "That's drunk status," says Dexter beside me. "You see how her back muscles are tore?" I can I almost see her spine. "They're going to destroy my soul! She screeches.
There's a guard holding bolt cutters. "Hold her still." Tiffany is crazy into the wood. Her voice ascends a volume that almost makes me faint. They toss her wing to the side and cut the other one off.
"She already lost her teeth…"