The Keysha Diaries, Volume One. Earl Sewell
“Yeah, whatever,” I said, completely unafraid of consequences.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Maggie gave me some basic rules for living in the group home.
“Boys are not allowed in this facility. There is a curfew of 6:00 p.m. on school nights and 7:00 p.m. on Saturday night. If you violate the curfew rule you will be placed in a secured facility. You must treat the staff here with respect. They’re here to help and listen to you, as well as help you work through any problems you may be having or going through. Stealing will not be tolerated. Drug usage will not be tolerated. Fighting, inappropriate language or dress will not be tolerated.”
“What can you do up in here?” I asked.
“Better yourself,” Maggie said. I didn’t respond to her comment because I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to do that.
“It will take me a day or two to get your school records and have them transferred to the high school in this area.”
“What? I can’t go to my old high school?”
“No. Each morning everyone will get on our school bus, and you’ll be driven to school as well as be picked up.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m not,” answered Maggie. “Come on. Let me give you a tour of the place and show you where you’ll be sleeping.”
The basement of the home had a small cafeteria and a common area with one television, a pool table, a combination bookshelf and magazine rack and three large tables, which were used for studying and doing homework. The main floor was where the sleeping quarters were. Everyone got a thin mattress and one small dresser with two drawers, and that was it. The main floor was also where the showers and bathrooms were located. After Maggie showed me the shower facilities, I followed her to another area where there was a group of lockers.
“This one is yours,” she said as she handed me my combination lock. “Don’t give your combination to anyone. You can keep your personal hygiene products and any other valuables you may have in here.” I opened up the small, rusty locker and was immediately assaulted by an odor.
“Whew,” I said aloud as I closed the door.
“I’m sorry about that. I’ll have one of the janitors spray some disinfectant in there for you,” Maggie said as I followed her back to the sleeping area. “Here is your cot,” she said. “I’ll let you get settled in. I’m sure the other girls will be along shortly to meet you.”
“When are you going to make the phone call to that dude?” I asked. All I had was hope that my biological father was a decent man who wanted a troubled girl like me. I didn’t want to stay in here any longer than I had to. In my mind, anyplace was better than where I was.
“I’ll do it first thing in the morning,” Maggie said.
“Why can’t we do it now?” I asked. “I mean, can’t you just call him up and say, ‘Hey, did you ever have a sexual relationship with a woman named Justine from Chicago?’”
“It’s a little more complicated than that. You’re in the state system now and certain protocols have to be followed. It’s going to take a little time.”
“I don’t have much time. I want to leave here.” I was feeling crazy.
“I’ll do everything that I can,” Maggie said with a smile and then left.
* * *
I plopped down on my cot and placed my face in my hands. Everything seemed so unreal. I just couldn’t believe this was happening to me. A short time later, I felt someone nudge the back of my shoulder with their fingertips. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a massive girl towering over me. She had to be at least six foot two and was very heavyset.
“What do you want?” I asked her.
“To look through your bags,” she said.
“For what?” I asked, placing a very mean expression on my face.
“To see if you have anything that I want.” I laughed.
“Honey, if you want to go through my rags to see if anything I have can fit you, then knock yourself out.” I stood up and was about to walk away.
“Drugs,” she whispered. “Do you have any?”
“No.” I glared at her as if she’d lost her mind. Drugs just weren’t my thing, especially after watching my mother struggle with addiction.
“They didn’t give you any drugs for the cut on your hand? No painkillers or anything?”
“I have to wear the bandage to keep my hand from becoming infected. I don’t have any painkillers for it,” I said and headed down to the common area. When I got down there, some of the girls were watching an episode of Jerry Springer. I went over to the small bookshelf in search of something to read. I felt like escaping from the reality I was in. I didn’t want to make friends at that point. I only wanted to be left alone.
The selection of books was very small, and some of the authors I’d never heard of. I picked up three books I thought would be interesting. There was Lord of the Flies, by William Golding, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, and The Women of Brewster Place by Gloria Naylor. I picked The Women of Brewster Place and went back to my cot. I couldn’t wait to mentally check out of the group home by getting lost in a book.
nine
I didn’t sleep well at all my first night in the group home. I just couldn’t sleep around a bunch of strange people I didn’t know or in the strange surroundings. I stayed up most of the night reading. On top of that many of the girls snored loudly. The street lamppost provided just enough light for me to read by. I finally drifted off to sleep at around four o’clock in the morning. At seven o’clock I was awakened abruptly by the sound of someone screaming. When I sat upright, several of the supervisors were trying to restrain the oversize girl who’d asked me if I had any drugs.
“She’s coming off of another bad hangover,” I overheard one girl whisper to another one.
When they finally got her under control, they searched her belongings and found that she’d somehow gotten hold of some alcohol.
“That heifer is crazy,” I heard yet another girl in the room say.
Once the supervisors found what she’d taken, they escorted her out of the dorm room. The other girls just sat and watched the whole thing go down without saying much more. It was strange watching all of this unfold. It was like being in a movie for the mentally ill. I felt as if I was watching things happen but not actually a part of it. In some ways the dorm room filled with cots felt like a ward at an insane asylum. Perhaps we were all just too emotionally empty to react to the madness that was going on around us. Perhaps we just couldn’t cry or talk about our pain anymore. Whatever our reasons, none of us moved an inch as the girl was being removed.
* * *
Later, after everyone had gone to school, I took a long shower, got dressed and hung out in the common area. I was waiting on Maggie to arrive with my transcript so I could get registered at a new high school as well as take me to the doctor to have my hand examined. I picked up an old issue of Vibe magazine that was lying around and started reading an article on Usher. God, if I had a boyfriend as fine and as rich as him, I’d be set, I thought to myself. I’d just finished reading the article when I heard Maggie calling out my name.
“Oh, there you are,” she said with a monotone voice. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” I said as I stood up and followed her. Maggie got me registered and I started school on the same day. At least she thought enough to get me a book bag and plenty of supplies, I thought to myself. I didn’t know what my future held but there was no sense in worrying about what I couldn’t control.