The Other Side of Dc

By Letitia M. Lawrence

Thousands of tourists visit the capital city of the United States every year. Dominique Morton has lived and worked among these tourists her entire life, as did her parents and their parents before them. She does her best to give the impression of a proud and upstanding Washingtonianbut she, like the city itself, leads a double life.

In 1999, Dominique is living with Bobby, the man she believes is her soul mate; working a good job at a health center; and regularly getting high on crack. Although she has tried to get clean in the past for the sake of her children, she has never had much success. She even begins dealing in an attempt to get ahead of the habit. But as drugs wreck the lives of everyone around her, Dominique becomes depressed and wonders if she will ever be free. Only an act of true courage can help her turn her life aroundbut does she have it in her to start down the road to recovery?

Exploring a side of the nations capital that often goes unseen, this novel tells the tale of one womans struggle against and triumph over addiction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781496971685

Letitia M. Lawrence

Letitia M. Lawrence was born and raised in Washington, DC, where she still lives today. She has three children, twelve grandchildren, and four great-grandchildren. A lifelong writer, she holds an associates degree in business administration and has worked in the public service sector throughout her career.

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© 2015 L M Lawrence. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/11/2015

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7140-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-7168-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015902868

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Introduction

The Strip

Blind Leading the Blind

Payday

The Beating

The Visitor

The First Meeting

Crazy

Black’s Death

Cappers

Pay the Piper

Back in the Day

Office Politics

Suicide

Road to Recovery

Relapse

Saint Elizabeth’s

New Endeavors

The Truth Shall Set You Free

Gary’s Place

Feeding the Brain

Three Hundred and Sixty-Five Days

INTRODUCTION

DOMINIQUE MORTON MADE A DATE to a meet her sponsor. She had been struggling with her fourth step: Make a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves. Just what does that mean? She only had two sponsors in the last fourteen years of her sobriety, and for ten of those years she had no sponsor at all. She never finished the fourth step. It was only by the grace of God that she hadn’t picked up. What was holding her back from her own inventory? What was she so afraid of? She had read this step over and over again, but nothing seem to make sense to her. Yes, she needed to face her charter defects and make a better person of herself, but how?

As she stumbled through her mind to find the answer, she found an old Metro transfer ticket in her twelve steps book dated June 18, 1999. My Lord, has it been that long since I started my journey? she thought. She was traveling through time as if the Ghost of Christmas Past was haunting her. There was no turning back the situation that drove her here or where was she going. She picked up a pen and started to write.

Let’s see if she made that moral inventory. This time and these moments were inspired by her family, who held her together through the rest of her days.

THE STRIP

TRAFFIC WAS COMPLETELY BACKED UP on Martin Luther King Avenue. It was 110 degrees in the shade. President Clinton’s limousine and convoy was moving as slow as molasses. The Secret Service men were taking their own sweet time checking out the crowd. The buses had come to a complete halt, and the passengers were getting restless. I don’t give a fuck about no damn president. Shit, I got things to do, one man shouted out from the rear of the bus.

The president was touring the Southeast section of D.C. to get the black vote. One of his campaign promises was to listen to the black community, but he had chosen the wrong time of day to travel through the city. It was rush hour, and everyone was trying to get home from work. They couldn’t care less about his empty campaign promises. All Dominique could think about was how miserable her day had been and how much she wanted to get high. She hoped the bus would move a little faster so she could catch up with Black before he left Green Way. Finally, after what seems like hours, the bus began to move. As she rode the bus home, she became very edgy. She couldn’t wait to take her first hit, and she knew that she wouldn’t be right until she did.

Dominique was walking up 37 Place approaching the projects when she saw Little Man coming toward her. He had just gotten out of the joint, and all his old connections had dried up, so his shit wasn’t all that good. She wasn’t about to spend her last twenty dollars on some weak-ass shit.

Hey, Little Bits, what’s up? he said as he passed her. All the hustlers on the strip called Dominique Little Bits; it was the street name given to her when she first cruised the strip. It fitted her well because she was so small and short. She had a killer haircut, with bouncy natural curls dyed luminous blonde. She always managed to keep her hair and nails done. She had to keep up a good appearance because of her job. God had taken very good care of her dark chocolate body, with every its curve in the right place. There were other reasons to keep your real identity hidden; it was for your own protection. You had to guard yourself from jump outs and small-time, petty hustlers. You had to be very careful when you turned down a dealer’s product.

There was a lot of competition among the dealers. If a dealer thought you were passing up their product for another, it could become very dangerous for you. Small-time hustlers were known to get their revenge by robbing you or even harming you physically. Dominique knew this too well. She had once been approached by Tick and three other small-time hustlers after copping some good coke from Big Mike. They surrounded her as she came out of the apartment building in the middle of Anacostia Road, which was cut off from the main street, Ridge Road. It was one way in and one way out.

Hey, Little Bits, what’s wrong with our shit? You too good to cop from us? Well, guess what. You gonna buy our shit today if you like it or not. Dominique had to think quickly. She simply took out one of the twenty-dollar bills she had in her jeans pocket and handed it to him. Then she squeezed her way out of the hustle situation that could have been much worse. Somehow the word got back to Big Mike, and as a way to protect his reputation and his clientele, Dominique never had problems with Tick again. But trust and believe there was always someone out there waiting to take advantage of you.

Ain’t shit, Little Man she said as she continued to walk down the street. She was getting frustrated. She didn’t see Black anywhere. Black was her main supplier. She could get anything from him. He was very good to her simply because she was a good customer and always paid on time. She thought she would circle the block one more time before calling it quits. As she turned the corner, she heard someone call, Hey, Little Bits. It was Ant. She thought quickly; maybe she could get a tick from Ant and still hold on to her twenty dollars, but she wasn’t sure if Ant would front her. There were times when he would switch up on her, but hell—nothing beats a failure but a try.

Ant was a small, young hustler. He couldn’t be no older than sixteen or seventeen, but he knew the streets and no one fucked with him. He just didn’t take no shit. He would fuck you up in a heartbeat and not give a shit. That’s how it was with all the hustlers on the strip: only the strong would survive.

Ant, I need something till Friday, she said with a soft smile. Could I hold a fifty till Friday?

He reached in his pocket and handed her a fifty. See you Friday, he said as he walked away. Dominique figured she had hit the jackpot. She would catch up with Black another time. She still had the twenty dollars she could use later.

BLIND LEADING THE BLIND

AS SHE HEADED FOR THE house, she thought she could get a few good hits before Bobby got home. She knew once he got home, the fun was over. Maybe if she was lucky, he would have one of his small-ass dimes and she wouldn’t have to give up any of hers. But he always knew what she had, and he always knew it was more than she said she had. Dominique didn’t smoke no little-ass shit. She had a high tolerance for crack and could smoke anybody under the table.

As she walked into the house, she raced straight into back bedroom and closed the door. She immediately took out the fifty and placed it on the broken mirror on the dresser. She took out the razor blade and glass stem she had hidden in the dresser drawer. She began cutting the coke up into small pieces with the blade, and with the glass stem she took a few hits before Bobby got home. The coke went straight to her head. Shit, that was good, she thought as she fell back on the bed with the stem still in her hand.

She laid there for about ten minutes. Just as she started to take the next hit, she heard Bobby put his key in the door. Shit! she thought. She jumped up, slid the mirror and stem in the drawer, and walked toward the door.

Bobby looked just as tired as Dominique did when she first got home; she felt sorry for him. He saw Dominique leaning on the wall next to the bathroom as he threw his bag on the sofa. They had been living in this apartment for a couple of months; they had moved from a larger apartment they could no longer afford because of problems Dominique was having with the IRS. This apartment was much smaller and in no way as luxurious as the two-bedroom, and two-half-bath place they just had given up.

Bobby had just started working; he hadn’t been helping financially. He was a small man, but for a man in his forties, he was in very good shape. He had dark-brown skin, and Dominique found him very sexy. Keeping in shape had a lot to do with the kind of work he did. He was working for the District of Columbia Housing Authority in maintenance and made good money, but just like Dominique, he had a hard time keeping money in his pockets. Bobby’s excuse was that he had to pay child support for his two daughters from a previous marriage, and Dominique’s excuse was paying bills with no help from Bobby. In spite of Bobby’s problems, he loved his daughters. But he had a monkey on his back, and it seemed impossible to shake it. He would not admit, it but the drugs were how he lost his family. His heart was in an unending circle of pain.

He walked straight to the back bedroom, just as Dominique had done earlier. She knew he had a dime and needed a hit just as badly as she did. He performed the same motions as Dominique had earlier. As she stood there, not knowing exactly what to do, she remembered the first time she had decided to reveal to Bobby her dirty little secret.

Dominique and Mike were coming home from work about a year ago, when she and Bobby had just start living together. I’m telling you, Dee, the man is smoking crack, Mike said with a serious look on his face. I can tell by the way he talks. Remember Friday when we came back from getting the medicine? Medicine was Mike’s code word for weed. His eyes were all big, and he could hardy talk. He was all blah, blah, blah.

Dominique had to laugh. Bobby had seemed messed up. That’s a true sign. Mike’s words were sharp and cold. It was clear that he didn’t care much for Bobby, and Dominique was worried that he would try to break up their relationship. In spike of Bobby’s drawbacks, he was a good man, and she truly loved him. She didn’t want to have to choose between her man and her best friend. In Dominique’s eyes, she and Bobby were soul mates. They knew each other thoughts at times; it was spooky. They were both Leos, and their birthdays were two weeks apart. She remembered when they first met and how it seemed to be love at first sight. They were somehow connected; they had the same soul and the same heart. At least that was how she felt.

She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she knew Mike was telling the truth. She never told Mike she found screens in Bobby’s pocket. She remembered how close she and Mike were. Mike was a true friend; they been through a lot together. He had seen her through a lot of broken relationships, so it was hard for Mike to take this relationship seriously. He knew that eventfully there would be another man.

Well, I know how to find out for sure, Dominique said to Mike. I’m going to offer him some coke tonight and see what happens. I only hope this doesn’t blow up in my face. She had an expression of uncertainty on her face as she spoke. As soon as she offered Bobby the coke that very same evening, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. Ever since that night, they’d gotten high together.

Dee, I got you a dime if you want it. Bobby never looked up as he searched for the metal stem in the dresser drawer. He immediately dropped a small piece of coke in the stem and took a long draw. Dominique picked up the small dime lying on the dresser and walked quickly toward her room. She then quickly hide her stash and dropped the whole dime Bobby had given her into her stem. She knew if she was cool, Bobby would be in the room for hours nursing that same small-ass dime. However, she also knew he could quickly figure out that she had her own shit if she didn’t come up with a plan. She waited a few minutes, reached in the drawer, and took another hit. The pleasure was beyond belief. This behavior continued throughout the night.

Just before daybreak, they both noticed they had no time to recuperate from last night’s activities. They only had time to take a quick shower and head out the door. Both were blinded by deceit yet bound together by a common plague.

When Dominique got to work, she was bushed. She had arrived at 8:00 a.m. sharp. She had a report due before the close of business, and Ms. Green didn’t want to hear any excuses. Dominique had her problems, but she took her work seriously.

She went to the lady’s room and splashed cold water on her face. She went back to her desk. She felt like shit, but she knew she had to pull herself together. She turned on the computer and started inputting the data. She was doing fine until about ten. Sleep was beginning to consume her body and mind. Her head was jerking back and forth, and she could no longer fight it. Finally she fell asleep with her hands still on the keyboard as she tried so desperately to finish the report. Dominique was not a coffee drinker. Coffee always made her sick, so she decided to drink as much tea as she could, hoping the caffeine would keep her awake.

About ten thirty, the phone rang. This is Roman Health Center. Ms. Morton speaking. May I help you.

Dominique, this is Ms. Green.

Dominique worked for a small health center in the southeast side of the city. The center was funded by the District government, and it was designed to provide exercise programs for low-income DC residents who wanted to stay in shape without paying the cost of high-priced health spas and gyms. During the last few years, Americans were on a health and fitness kick. Everyone wanted to lose weight. The center also provided a nutrition program. It had become unfashionable to eat pork and junk food. Dominique had worked at the center for five years. She was the administrative assistant of the center, and Ms. Green, the executive director, was her boss. It was the end of the month, which meant the data reports were due. Ms. Green was always very stressed during this time. These reports told how many clients were served that month. If the numbers weren’t kept up, there was a chance that the center’s funds could be cut.

Good morning, Ms. Green. How are you? Dominique’s voice was soft, simply because she was scared to death. She knew why Ms. Green was calling. She wanted to ask about the reports, and Dominique knew she was nowhere near finished.

I’m here at the home office with Mr. Thompson. We both would like to know when the reports will be delivered, Ms. Green said.

Dominique had to think fast to give herself enough time to finish. I will make sure Steve delivers them to Mr. Thompson by 4:00 p.m. sharp.

Thank you, Dominique. I wouldn’t want Mr. Thompson to think we didn’t run a tight ship. See you in a few. Ms. Green hung up before Dominique could speak another word.

Oh hell, that means no lunch break. I thought I could take a little nap. she thought. Immediately she called the receptionist at the front desk. Gloria, sweetie, hold all my calls. I need to finish this report by three, and I can’t do it if I’m taking calls all morning. I’ll only take Ms. Green’s calls. The receptionist agreed to hold her calls.

Dominique spent the rest of the morning and afternoon working in a panic. It was getting late. Hold it together, girl. You can do this, she thought. She glanced at the clock and noticed it was two thirty, but much to her surprise, she was nearly done. She wasn’t quit of trouble yet—she hadn’t gotten anything else done. It would take her two days to catch up. She knew how critical Ms. Green could get, and she didn’t want to disappoint her.

Ms. Green had been very good to Dominique, and she really didn’t want to screw up, but she knew she was fighting the demons inside her. She was slipping. Her work was not up to par. If she didn’t do something fast, she could lose everything. Still she was in complete denial about her drug use. She kept telling herself she only smoked coke to take the edge off. She could stop anytime she wanted to. Besides, she wasn’t hurting anyone. Life was hard, and she was doing the best she could. She wished everyone would just leave her the fuck alone. Dominique was exhausted when she got home. All she could do was crash and try to get some sleep.

She knew she had no business getting high during the week, but she thought a little hit couldn’t hurt. She always swore she would never be so stupid as to lose her job because of drugs. All she had was her job, and it meant everything to her. Dominique laid down and fell off to sleep.

About three hours later, something woke her up. She looked into Bobby’s room and noticed he was not there. She wasn’t sure if he had come home from work. This was unusual, because Bobby was a homebody who rarely stayed out late. She tried not to worry, but Bobby had a knack for getting into trouble. Although they didn’t sleep in the same room, she found it hard to sleep peacefully when he was not there. She had that very same problem when her kids were teenagers. Living in the concrete jungle could be hard; not knowing if your loved ones were safe took a lot out of your body and soul.

She was dead tired and tried to go back to sleep. All she could do was toss and turn. Finally, at about ten that night, she heard Bobby put his key in the door. She laid there as if she didn’t hear him. He walked straight in her room and laid down beside her.

Hey, Dee, I know you’re not asleep, he whispered in her ear. She didn’t say a word; she just rolled over and put her arms around him and kissed him gently. She no longer cared where he had been. She only wanted him to hold her, and that he did. They made love and slept together for most of the night. But as usual, he was