Ghetto Girls. Anthony Whyte
from. Eric’s brother had been murdered not long before Sophia met Eric, so she was with him when he learned the truth about his brother’s death. Something in Eric changed after that, and Sophia knew not to press the issue with him.
Men wearing hoods had tried to mug his older brother, he was told. Dennis fired at them with his .38 Smith and Wesson, but one attacker got behind him and shot him dead. Eric knew Dennis had gone to an address given to him by ‘Xtrigaphan,’ the hot rap group he wanted to sign. Dennis had taken $10,000 in cash with him to lure the group to sign. Eric knew his brother dabbled in cocaine, but also knew Dennis wasn’t dealing. He knew that the cash was a signing bonus. The police weren’t interested in Eric’s version of his brother’s murder. Since then, his hatred of the police bordered on obsession. Sophia decided to try another approach.
“Well, have you spoken to Deedee, to find out what happened?”
“No.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“Not entirely, except that she was raped and the car was stolen.”
“By whom? Where?” Sophia queried.
“Look, the cops told me what happened. They called me and told me they found her badly beaten. Told me that she had been sexually assaulted.”
“So you haven’t spoken to Deedee about any of this?”
“I told you. No,” said Eric. He was annoyed now.
Sophia Lawrence, with her lawyer’s mind, suspended the questioning when she saw Eric’s resentment. She tilted the beer upwards, looking at his reflection through the beer bottle. His face appeared contorted, and he looked fat with anger.
Eric Ascot turned his back. He was rehashing his brother’s death.
“I didn’t want to include the cops,” he said, turning to face her. “Not after the way they treated my brother. They treated him like he was some unknown, drug dealing nigga. Now I’m gonna handle this shit the way it should be handled.”
He turned away. Then he stopped. The pain showed on his face.
“Soph, whatever it takes to make her better. Please don’t spare the cost. Get her the best. That’s my niece laid up there.” Sophia nodded.
FOUR
Nearly ten years ago Deedee entered Eric’s life. She was close to her sixth birthday. Her father, Dennis Ascot was the older brother of Eric. He was found mortally wounded, a bullet-hole to the back of his head. All the money and contracts were stolen from his attaché case. Sophia knew that the police treated the incident as a drug deal that went bad. The investigation went as far as tailing Eric around town and keeping steady watch on his apartment. Eric Ascot tried as best to clear his brother’s name but to no avail. Within six months, the investigation was officially closed despite Eric’s persistent protesting.
After that Eric Ascot became Deedee’s guardian, and then achieved sole rights to guardianship when her mother became preoccupied with crack. When Sophia met them, Eric and his niece seemed happy with each other. It was, “My uncle this and my uncle that.” Eric enjoyed the adoration of his niece, and Deedee seemed determined at first to keep her uncle all to herself.
She kept close tabs on Sophia, but Sophia’s plan was foolproof: Take Deedee shopping as often as possible. Keep her happy and win her over without trying to be her mother. She knew how much Eric cared for Deedee. Now she understood the pain that would haunt him since his niece had been assaulted. Sophia walked over and hugged Eric.
“She’s sleeping. She’s tough. She’ll be alright.”
“Yeah, I hope so, Sophia,” Eric said. He held her hand for a while then pulled her near. They kissed briefly and she watched as the pain eased away from his face, the scowl now replaced by the semblance of a smile. However, thoughts of his niece still wore heavily on his mind.
Deedee was in bed, staring into a wall of nothingness. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming, but remembered the Mercedes sitting at the end of the driveway.
Such a pretty car, she thinks. So black that it glows. The noise of the car alarm prompts her to get the keys and deactivate it. She gets in it. Maybe, I should move it closer. Or maybe I could take it around the block just one time. It won’t hurt. But she has to go downtown. Maybe check out some spots, meet up with some friends—Coco and her crew. They’ll love the ride. Everyone is happy; everything is fine. Her uncle won’t be back until the following day. He’ll never know. Pick up some cigarettes, and no drinking while driving. Her guide drank some, actually a lot. “Hey chill with the bottle, chill.” Coco and Da Crew perform. They’re fabulous, graceful, exciting. Drinking at the club stops make her sloppy. She’s trying to make it back to the car, with or without a guide. She is outside. It’s a jungle. There are wild animals chasing each other. She barely sees the Mercedes now. There’s something after her or the Mercedes. Deedee runs and screams. It’s to no avail. Her throat acts as a barrier to the sound. The man-beast catches up with her.
“I want you and da fucking car,” roars the beast. It has a face she barely recognizes.
“Back off, vultures!” yells the man-beast.
Then the beast grabs her. She screams, but fright muffles the sound. The hand begins to maul her, she tries fighting back, but she is much too small, and her limbs won’t respond. She is trying to scream, but there’s no sound. The beast clutches her and pins her to the hood of the Mercedes. Then the thing growls and enters her. Deedee fights back with long vicious scratching, her nails strong as talons. The flesh of the beast begins to fall apart. She grows stronger, and the beast retreats. But out comes the man. It is Deja, from the club. She screams violently.
“Get away! Stay away!” She yells. Her uncle and Sophia burst through the door. “Please don’t hurt me anymore,” she cries.
“Deedee it’s me. I’m here baby. It will be alright, it’ll be alright,” Eric shouted as he hugged the girl. “You were having a bad dream.”
“I’ll get her something to drink,” Sophia said. She ran downstairs, to the kitchen.
“Uncle E., Uncle E.,” Deedee cried. “He was trying to rape me again.”
“Who was gonna do that to you, baby?”
“This thing was chasing me and Deja was gonna rape me again.”
“Deja?” Her uncle asked with bewilderment. “Who’s Deja?”
Sophia carefully handed Deedee a glass of milk. Deedee gulped twice, then excused herself and went into the bathroom. She felt the scrutiny as two pairs of concerned eyes followed her there. Once inside, she washed her face and checked her body. The bruises and marks were quite visible. Deedee looked at her face close-up, and noticed all the welts and gashes under her nose and above her eyes. Scabs were already forming over the smaller wounds. She decided not to look anymore—each time she did so, more bruises seemed to appear. But Deedee knew that these smaller bruises didn’t really matter. The biggest wound would not heal. It would last forever.
“Hey what’s up?” Da Crew shouted when they met in the school hallway. They were happy to see each other. The weekend was finally over. All the girls had stayed with their families and spoken with each other on the phone. Danielle and Josephine used their parents’ phones. Coco called from the phone on the corner.
“I’ve got a test, yo. Got to go. Catch up wit y’all later.”
“Coco,” it was Mrs. Martinez.
“Yes, Mrs. Martinez.”
“Girls, I heard