For whosoever shall do the will of God, the same is my brother, and my sister, and mother.
—Mark 3:35 (KJV)
After absorbing all the pain and hurt, I had to settle for an old doo-doo brown mini station wagon, a bucket of a car Mama bought from a neighbor for giving my money away to Eva. I like to refer to it as the brown bomber. I’d landed another job at La Fiesta Market in the bakery department and was on my way to saving up for a decent car, once again. Eva called and said she was coming down from Colton, California, to visit the family. Daddy always wanted to see her to make sure she was doing okay. I was not happy to see her. My heart thumped hard against my chest the moment she walked into the Kitchen.
“Hollywood, Hollywood!” she shouted, shaking her shoulders with that evil grin stretched across her gapped-tooth mouth. Eva walked up to Daddy and kissed him on the cheek. Daddy lit up like a Christmas tree. “Hey sis. How are you doing?” She waltzed her behind over to me and hugged me around my shoulders. I pulled back. I didn’t want her dull hug. I wanted my five-hundred dollars back.
“Hey,” I said, dryly as I stood up from the table and walked out of the kitchen past Daddy’s tool drawer where he kept his hammer that I wanted to use to go upside her head with. I’d pushed the thought of her manipulating me out of my five-hundred dollars to the edge of my mind, but not over the cliff. Which is where I wanted to send her.
Daddy and Eva sat in the kitchen and talked about good old times as the two of them laughed and ate breakfast. Mama slammed her door as their laughter rose like smoke in the air. She was watching TBN and didn’t want to be disturbed, especially by Eva. They both understood the message. Daddy and Eva continued their reunion outside on the front porch. I had my mind set on partying that evening with my best friend, Sherry, who lived in Watts, after I’d gotten off work. We were invited to a backyard party over on the east side of town, where she lived. I’d bought a new outfit from Contempo in the Fox Hills Mall and could hardly wait to put it on that evening. To keep Mama off my back, I made my bed quickly, fluffed up my pillows, lined up my stuffed animals back on top of the bed, washed up the dishes, then tidied up the kitchen.
I snapped my earrings in my ears, then pulled a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill out of my purse, pulled open my top drawer, then slipped it underneath my fresh, clean JCPenney panties when I felt a sinister presence lurking near my room as if a pair of eyes settling on me through the crack of my door. I whipped my head around to catch a glimpse, but there was nothing. I closed my drawer shut. It was the last of my money before payday rolled back around on Friday. I’d use it for gas and the drinks we’d buy before we got to the party. We’d get our buzz on before we went to anybody’s party. We didn’t want those watered-down alcoholic beverages they often served. I didn’t like carrying large bills on me, especially when going to work. And we didn’t have personal lockers to put our belongings in. We had to tuck our purses anywhere we could find a good hiding place. So, I decided I’d leave mine at home. It was safer there.
I tossed my bag of tapes into the front seat, jumped in the brown bomber, and sped off down the street. I arrived at work on time, after picking up Sherry from her house along the way. Our jobs were right around the corner from where she lived. We laughed and talked about what we were going to wear to the party and who all would be there and who we were going to dance with as we decorated wild and exotic cakes in the Bakery department where we worked. I took my time creating this beautiful wedding-like cake decorated with all the trimmings, while Sherry played around airbrushing the heck out of her cake with over fifteen different colors. I told her the multicolored cake wouldn’t sell for a dime. An hour later, it was sold. We clocked out at about four o’clock. I dropped her off at home and informed her I’d be back in two hours to pick her up for the party.
When I arrived home, everyone was gone except Mama, who was usually there lying across her bed, watching her Christian channel, clapping her hands, and delivering up hallelujahs and amens to whichever televangelist was preaching the sermons.
“Hey, Mama, I’m home,” I said as I walked into her bedroom and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled, not taking her eyes off the TV as she clapped her hands and cried out, “Hallelujah!” Mama was always happy to hear the words of the Lord.
I jumped in a hot tub of water, scrubbed every nook and cranny, redid my hair, making sure not a strand was out of place, then slid on my soft-pink Daisy Duke shorts and dainty blouse that exposed my belly button. I called Sherry and told her I’d be there in about thirty minutes. I smiled at myself in the mirror, then went to retrieve my C-note from the drawer. I peeled back the layers of my cotton panties to grab my hundred dollars, when, to my surprise, it was gone!
This couldn’t be. I know I placed the bill underneath my black pair of panties with the white and turquoise flower print. I moved the set of panties over to one side, going through them one at a time until a gush of anxiety hit me. My stomach churned like butter. Sweat began to bead up around my forehead as the anxiety quickly turned to panic. Panties, bras, and socks went flying over my left and right shoulders as I emptied the top drawer of everything in it. I pulled the drawer completely out and slung it over onto my bed in the hope that the bill had decided to play hide-and-seek behind the drawer. Nothing.
I started to hyperventilate. My eyes began to fill with puddles of water. Who would’ve taken my money? I knew my daddy was a thief, but he hadn’t stolen from me since I was six years old when the church mother gave me a stuffed bunny clothed with ones and five-dollar bills. I didn’t know he had been taking the money until the rabbit started revealing bits and pieces of its fur as it became naked, with only one dollar left pinned to it. Mama cursed him out royally.
My heart raced as I began to think about who could’ve stolen my money. I cleared the sweat from my brow and held my hand to my throbbing temple. I didn’t think like a thief, who’d pull up the edges of the carpet and tuck it underneath, like Daddy would do. I hid it in a typical place, underneath my clothes, way in the back of my drawer. I had no reason to put it in a safe deposit box, unless I was Mama, who did that to keep Daddy from stealing from her.
Suddenly, Eva crossed my mind. That sinister presence I felt lurking around my bedroom. Those bubbled eyes I sensed watching me through the crack of my door. “You whore!” I muttered so Mama couldn’t hear me. I clenched my teeth tightly, snatched my keys off the dresser, and jumped in the brown bomber station wagon. I was ready to kick Eva’s natural black butt! Excuse my Japanese. This witch had done it again. It had to have been her. She’d already stole thousands of dollars from our parent’s bank account after they’d trusted to put her name on it. I overheard Mama telling Erma about it once over the phone. Yeah, it was her. She took it.
I mashed on the accelerator pedal, speeding up the street as if the police were hot on my trail. I’d heard of a few dope spots where smokers would hang out to score and smoke crack because it was my sister Brenda’s hangout where she’d tend to her business from time to time. She told me about one located right around the corner from Mama’s rental property. Brenda was my other older sister. She was younger than Eva by two years. Brenda was sweet and always treated me like a little sister. A lot of times I’d spend with her, Fatima, and Shaun—my niece and nephew. I was two years older than Shaun. We all attended the same Christian elementary school. They lived up the street from me, so I’d hang out at Brenda’s house, Fatima and I dancing and listening to all types of music while Shaun rode his dirt bike, popping wheelies and hopping off homemade ramps.
Brenda was the album queen. Growing up in the church, I was used to hearing mostly gospel, and with Daddy liking his R&B, I thought that was the only kind of music that existed—until I’d get to Brenda’s house. I didn’t know white people could sing. Who were Daryl Hall and John Oats? David Bowie? The Rolling Stones? And Elton John?
Brenda had a diverse taste in music. She had rows of albums lined up against the wall of her living room. It was like being in a library, she had so many albums. Each time we used one, we’d have to leave the sleeve of the album up, so we knew where to put it back. And when Michael Jackson came out with his new video, Thriller, we had the best dance party celebration ever.
Brenda was completely different from Eva. She was into poetry and plays. She took me to my first play for my birthday—Little Shop of Horrors. It was the best play ever. Brenda married Edwin. Edwin had lots of money, which he kept rolled up in a rubber band. That was Shaun’s dad. We’d go everywhere, to all the fancy restaurants—even to Big Bear to play in the snow. That was like winning the lottery for black kids in the hood. Then, Brenda’s life took a left turn. And, like Eva, she fell victim to the crack epidemic as well.
I made a sharp turn onto the next block, then slowed my pace. I squinted at the various houses until I recognized two strange-looking people walking fast through the gate, who looked like they needed a quick fix. This had to be the crack house. I swung the wheel to the right. The front tires bumped the curb as the brown bomber came to a halt. To my surprise, Brenda was exiting the front door as I was marching through the gate.
Her eyes widened at the sight of me. I know she was thinking, not my baby sister. She can’t be on crack. She’s the innocent one in the family. She was right. I wasn’t high off crack, but I was high off an adrenaline rush, ready to choke the life out of Eva.
“Tracy, what are you doing here?” Brenda asked. Her face sank.
“Eva stole my hundred dollars out of my drawer, and I want my money back!” I yelled.
“She stole your money?” Brenda’s eyebrows curled up.
“Hell yeah, she stole my money, and I want it back, every dime of it!” I stormed toward the front door without a care in the world about who might be in there— men with guns, the dealer, none of that stuff. I was tired of Eva taking my belongings and manipulating me.
“Okay, wait a minute,” Brenda said, throwing her hands up to keep me from entering the house. “I’ll go get her. You stay right here. This ain’t no place for you to be, baby girl.”
I let the smoke clear from my nostrils as I turned away with tears in my eyes. Brenda knew I was hurt, and the pain in her face showed her empathy. I bit my bottom lip, tapping my foot as I waited for Eva to come out of that house. Seconds later, Eva exited the door, looking like she was about to explain her reason for taking my money.
“Tracy,” she said, sounding so cool, calm, and collected. Her eyes were as big as golf balls.
“Tracy, my behind. You are a lying dog! You stole my money from my drawer! Didn’t you!”
Her eyes began to blink uncontrollably. My nostrils flared. Heat flushed through my body. I snatched her shirt. She lost her footing, stumbling forward.
“Tracy, look, I’m sorry.” Her eyes were as red as a bottle of Louisiana hot sauce. The smell of crack cocaine seeped from her shirt and crept its way up my nose.
“I want my money back, now!” I stepped towards her. My fingers curled into fists. I’d never hit my sister, but I felt like hitting her right then.
Eva quickly fumbled through her back pocket and pulled out about eighteen dollars, then shoved the bills into my hand. “I’ll get the rest of your money back to you, Sis. I promise.”
“You said that the last time about my five hundred dollars, and you never paid that back!”
“You stole five hundred dollars from our baby sister?” Brenda asked as she frowned at Eva.
“I-I promise you, Tracy. I’ll get it back. I’ll get it back to you,” she said, stumbling over her words.
“I want all my money back! How dare you steal from me?” I narrowed the distance between us, but Brenda jumped in to intervene.
I pointed my finger in her face. “I’m telling Mama you stole my money.”
“Tracy, no!” She grabbed my arm as I turned to walk away. “I’ll get your money back in two days. I promise.”
“You got two days, or I’m telling Mama. I don’t care if you got to stand out there on Figueroa whore street and sell your body, you gon’ get me my money back!”
I snatched my arm away from her grasp and stormed out the gate. I jumped into the brown bomber and burned rubber off the block as I wiped the last tear off my face.
Two days later, a money order showed up in the mailbox addressed to me in the amount of one hundred dollars. She was off the hook, for now. Eva soon packed up her rags, her and my brother-in-law, Charles, and headed off to Texas. It would be years later before the witch surfaced back, bringing with her spells of witchcraft to come against me and my family. And that’s when the battle really started. That’s when the witch’s brew began to boil. I had no idea, not even an inkling of a clue that my battle would not be against my own flesh and blood, but against principalities, powers from the unseen world, rulers of darkness, and wickedness in high and heavenly places.
