“Oh no, no. Don’t worry about getting another one,” her mother said
in a barely audible voice. “I got that online.” Her mother lay in the bed picking
at the rose-colored blanket. Her mom’s once beautiful face was now sallow
and drawn. The IV and the oxygen tank were indications of the depth of her
mother’s illness. But the sunken eyes really told the story of how Ilene had
struggled down this road.
Dee walked over to her mom’s bedside and stumbled on a pair of shoes
in the middle of the floor. “Damn it,” she whispered, before she could catch the
words. “Nipsey must’ve left these here.” She placed the red pumps in a clear
box near the closet filled with her mother’s shoe legacy.
Every pair had a story, a memory for her mom. She often liked to
see them to remember. “You know I wore these black ones when I took your
aunt back to the airport,” her mom would say. “That’s how I learned beauty
and pain went hand-in-hand. Girl, her plane was delayed and my dogs were
barkin’, but I did get a lot of compliments.” Or, “I wore these when I left your
father in Las Vegas,” she would say with a defiant gleam in her eyes. “I strutted
out of there on my pink stilettos with my head held high. I got a lot of second
looks that day.”
Every time her mother told the latter story, Dee thought her mother
received those looks for a different reason. Being beautiful and happy in
Gateway Gardens Projects meant a loneliness that settled into the soul. Anyone
could see it lingering under the surface of the smiles her mom tried to keep in
place. Ilene had lived here for seventeen years and hadn’t made a lot of friends.
And if anything happened to her mom, the rest of Dee’s life would be about
surviving. Alone.
One man, Big Rock—the neighborhood dealer/pimp/entrepreneur—
had extended his protection to Ilene after she became friends with his girlfriend.
At fourteen, Dee’s face took after her mother and her body blossomed like the
females on her father’s side of the family. Then she started getting stares from
men old enough to know better. Big Rock had blanketed the protection around
Dee as well. Evidently that protection was now being called into question.
Sierra Kay
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Naleighna Kai Literary Cafe Magazine July/August 2017 63