Ghetto Walls

By Diane McKee

Having been born into a family that represented everything illegal and negative in the hood, Trenton (Tucker) Highland closed his mind to the circumstances of his life and opened it up to who he knew himself to be. Quietly raising his awareness of that man and made decisions and changes to become the person he had envisioned. With compassion and a strong sense of family, he focused his belief of self-love and self-knowledge onto his three brothers and his sister, Netta, to hopefully make changes in their lives. He also extends his concerns toward the Brown girls whom he considers his extended family. Trisha, the oldest of the Browns, is his sister’s best friend. Their other friend Angie was also in a bad place.

He watched them grow up together and felt the pain when Trisha and her sisters’ lives became the play toys of their stepfather, Billy. On the day that Trisha saw Billy about to induct her youngest sister, Noelle, into the life he had forced her and Carrie, her love and fear made her fight back. It was then that Tucker and his cousin Georgie (Georgia) quietly stepped in and rescued them. They hid them away as they planned to give Billy the fight of his life. They also began to help Angie out of her circumstances. It was not to be a fight of rage and violence that they both felt but to be one of giving back to the Browns and Angie their right to write and create their own truth. In that lies the challenge for them all—to keep their peace in those moments of rage.

199

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 2, 2020
• ISBN: 9781648012907

Book preview

1

Trisha

While walking to the schoolyard, I thought about Trisha. I can understand why she doesn’t have any room in her life for tenderness. Her family was the one the neighbors liked whispering bad things about. They were considered the black spot of the neighborhood. Her father was an abusive man. As children, we had called him the crazy man on 198 Street. He would beat Trisha’s mother without any warning or apparent reason. Sometimes he would come running out the house, screaming at the kids in the yard. He would have his wife by her hair, dragging her down the steps. He would scream at her that none of her children looked anything like him. Sometimes he would drag her out, telling her to clean the kids up, right there in the yard, with the water hose.

After we became friends, Trisha said he had made them watch while he had sex with her mother. He would make her mother preform different sexual acts on him in front of them. Trisha said once, she started screaming when she thought her mother was choking on her father’s penis. She told us how her father slapped her for screaming. He beat her with a leg from a broken table when she didn’t stop crying.

When Trisha was seven years old, her father walked out on them. Trisha thought things would finally be different. Her mother found a job. With her mother working, things were hard but still, they were better. She didn’t miss her father at all. Her mother cried sometimes about not having her husband in her life. But she seemed to cope when she had Trisha and her other two little daughters around her.

Mrs. Karen started working a second job, working two nights in the middle of the week and on Friday and Saturday nights. She was a barmaid at this place on Liberty Avenue, up there near what we called the ho stroll. Mrs. Karen, being one of those pretty and caramel-colored black women, made a lot of money in tips. She was very shapely and, when she dressed up, could turn most men’s head. She began dressing up every night she worked at the bar. It improved her tips, and she liked the attention she got from the men in the bar.

Before that year was out, her mother had a new man. Everyone liked him; he was generous to all of them. He took them on family outings, picnics, and to the amusement parks. Trisha loved the trips to the beach the most. Mr. Billy was the answer to her mother’s prayers. Within eight months of meeting him, her mother, Karen, married Mr. Billy Jacobs. Things appeared to be well on the outside. Mrs. Karen felt she had finally found someone who cared about her and her three daughters.

Then after almost two years, people started to notice Mrs. Karen would sometimes be a little drunk. It didn’t happen often but it would happen. We never saw Mr. Billy hit her or anything that would suggest there was a problem. We started to notice a flow of men coming and going from their house. Some of them, we knew from the boulevard. They were street hustlers and friends of Mr. Billy. Some were drug dealers and others were known as pimps. After a while, people were talking about how Mr. Billy got Trisha’s mother, Karen, strung out on heroin and had her turning tricks for him. It started out with a few of his friends coming over to their house. As time went by and she became dependent on the heroin, he made her walk the streets. We would hear talk about how she would be up on Liberty Avenue so stoned on heroin she couldn’t make any money.

By the time Trisha was twelve, her life had gone from one hell straight to another. She belonged to Mr. Billy by the time she was almost thirteen. Her mother told him to make her work for the money she wasn’t making on the streets. Trisha is a pretty girl of dark-caramel complexion. She has the hips and bottom of a well-developed eighteen-year-old. Her breasts are a little small, but somehow, that makes her more appealing. She has the most beautiful light-brown eyes. When she wears her dark-brown shoulder-length hair in a half-bang just over one eye, she can cause a man to daydream. Mr. Billy didn’t put her out there but he did have her start performing different types of oral sex on him. He was the one on which she would get her training, her education of life and the streets.

Her sister Carrie was only a year younger than Trisha and was pulled into the game just a few months after she turned twelve. Her body was more developed than Trisha’s, and Billy saw dollar signs whenever he looked at her. There is something about Carrie that makes you feel comfortable. Carrie is a little on the quiet side. Her hips and bottom can stand toe to toe with her sister Trisha. The difference is her breast. They are overdeveloped for someone her age. Her eyes are a dark brown and her hair is straight and black. She is a little darker than her sister Trisha. She is considered a beautiful young black girl. I don’t think she’s more beautiful than Trisha. I think it’s that something else. That thing she has in her that puts you at ease. You’re not intimidated by her good looks.

Her youngest sister, Noelle, was still just eight. Trisha and Carrie were afraid for Noelle; she was the gentle soul of them all. They prayed that something would happen before she turned thirteen and they would be able to save her from Billy. Her mother, Karen, was of no help to them at all. She would tell them it was just a little sex. No more than they would let the boyfriends they would soon get do to them. She would tell them the more experience they got, the better their chances of getting and keeping a man would be.

Mrs. Karen didn’t cry about not having a man anymore. She only worried about getting high. Heroin was her one and only concern. There were times when the children’s health and safety agencies had come to their home. But somehow, nothing ever changed. The workers would come and Billy would always find a way to have things right. It was as though he had been forewarned about their visit.

When Trisha was fifteen, she became pregnant. School officials had her transferred to the Wells School for expectant teenage mothers. That is where we became friends. We had known each other from the neighborhood. We would speak to each other when passing on the street. We had never been friendly and not for any particular reason, except that we each had our own hell we were living.

Angie, how long can you stay out tonight?

Netta, I didn’t hear you come up. Everyone thinks I’m asleep so I can stay awhile. Besides they were already on their third after-dinner drink. They will be sleeping soundly tonight. I can make all the noise I want, sneaking back in the house tonight. They won’t hear a thing. Netta, what happened with Trisha? Where is she, is she all right?

Yes, Georgia took her someplace safe. She took her sister Noelle out of the house today. Billy and his no-good ass was trying to get her drunk. One of his friends was actually going to shoot her up with cocaine. Trisha lost her mind when she heard what he was going to do to Noelle. She hit him over the head with a chair. I heard there was blood everywhere. Billy was screaming at Trisha and told her he would do with Noelle as he pleased. She is his and of age. He slapped Trisha and told her to go make some money. They were going to have to pay off the man she hit. Trisha grabbed a knife and stabbed Billy. She grabbed Noelle and left the house. She said she’s not going to take Noelle back. She ran to Georgia and he took both of them someplace safe. Billy was screaming like a mad dog. He said he’s going to kill Trisha if she didn’t bring Noelle back.

What has her mother, Karen, said in all of this?

She’s stoned, Angie. She asked me if I knew where they were. She said she wouldn’t tell Billy if I told her. She wanted to take them some money to help them get away.

Did you tell her anything, Netta?

Hell no, I wouldn’t tell that bitch anything. She’s made promises like that before when Trisha had taken her sisters and run away. She won’t get me like that again. Georgia is making sure no one can tell anything. He hasn’t told anyone—not even me—where they are hiding. He sent someone over to Liberty to catch Carrie. When they get a chance, they’re taking her to a different place. Trisha’s not sure if Carrie wants to get away anymore. So they decided to stash her somewhere else. Just in case she doesn’t believe they can have a better life anymore. They think she might get out and run to Billy. Trisha’s not sure but she thinks Carrie may be using. Georgia is pretty sure she is using. He plans to have someone stay with her and help her get cleaned out. Either way, they’re not letting her get back to Billy until Trisha and Noelle are long gone. Georgia doesn’t want anyone to get too suspicious of you or me. He has arranged to meet with us some time in the next three days to let us know what they have planned. He said when we see each other before then, just act as we always do with each other. Actually, Angie, we don’t know any more than what the word is on the street.

Has anyone asked Georgia about Trisha yet?

Yes, of course they have. But you know how Georgia is, he put them straight. They all think he’s crazy now anyway. So no one is going to bother him too much. I think they’re afraid he might have a razor or his gun on him. They know he’s crazy enough to use whatever he has on him. Are you going to help us get Trisha and Noelle out of here?

Yes, you know I will do whatever I can. I don’t know what I could possibly do but I will do whatever it takes.

I think Georgia has a plan worked out but he’s not telling any of us until the time is right. He asked me to talk to you about helping. We can’t talk about Trisha at all around other people, not on the phone either, understand?

Okay, Netta, I understand. You never know who is listening. Netta, where’s Trevor? Who’s watching him for you tonight?

He’s at home, I made sure he was asleep before I left. My mother is listening out for him. I’m getting ready to go home now, just in case he does wake up. I just came out to meet with you.

Well, I had better get back to the house myself. You never know with the people at my house. I’ll see you tomorrow, Netta.

Yeah, I’ll see you, Angie.

2

Netta

The first thing Netta ever said to me was, What are you doing in this school? It would figure that with all the money your family has, they would have sent you somewhere private. Hide your family’s dirty-little-secret kind of thing. You guys never speak to anyone in the neighborhood—it’s like you all think you’re better than everyone else. Weren’t you going to a private school anyway? I guess even a spoiled little private school prissy ass can get hot in her ass.

She started laughing like my being pregnant was the funniest thing in the world. I just sat there, looking at her, while she had herself a good one on me. I, of course, didn’t see anything as being funny. When she suddenly stopped laughing and looked at me, I realized there were tears running down my cheeks. She gave me some tissue and took me into the bathroom. She apologized for being so insensitive to what I might be feeling. She said she was just so shocked to see me there at that school. Netta is not one to apologize for much of anything she does so that, by itself, meant a lot to me later.

Netta has four brothers. Tyrone, Chris, Ralphie, and one nicknamed Tucker. Highland was their last name and they had a reputation in the neighborhood as being mean and street dirty. They could be seen in the Bricktown neighborhood, up on Liberty Avenue where all the hustlers hang out. They were hustlers and had a crew of guys that ran around with them that were stickup kids. All of her brothers were older. And they kept her busy constantly. Tucker is the nicest out of all her brothers; he keeps them from going too far with their demands on her. Tyrone is the oldest and is always going in and out of jail. Chris is next and he is just plain old mean. Ralphie is the one without any common sense. He will take chances on things no one else would. Ralphie and Chris sell drugs on the street but Ralphie is the one that takes crazy risks. Tucker is always barking on them about the way they handle their business. Tucker is all about making money.

I have never seen a father in their house; I don’t ask Netta about him. Her mother, Jean, is one of those women who likes men and has many male friends. She knows that her sons are on the streets but she cares too much about the money they bring her to say anything to them. Netta has to do whatever her brothers tell her because they bring in the money. Her mother doesn’t work and depends on the money that her sons give her. So Netta cleans their clothes, cooks their meals, and keep the house clean.

Netta is one of those strikingly pretty dark-skinned girls. Mother Nature has been very good to her. She has a full breast of about thirty-six. And an ass that stops traffic; it’s full and round. She has a small waist and soft, smooth skin. She has beautiful soft-brown eyes and full lips. She perms her hair most of the time, but even when it’s done in African styles, she looks exceptional. She attracts attention whenever she’s out. One time, when her brother Tyrone was home from jail, he and some of his friends were at their house, drinking and smoking weed. One of his friends named Jerome started to talk to Netta. Netta wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. She tried to get away from him by going upstairs to her room. About an hour later, he appeared in her bedroom. She told him to get out and started to fight with him. He called her a tease and ripped off her shirt. Before she could get something to cover herself up, he was all over her. She screamed and tried to fight him off but he raped her. She cried and screamed the whole time.

When he had finally finished and left her room, she went downstairs to her brother Tyrone. He said he didn’t see anything like what she described happen. He said his friend would never be with a girl that didn’t want him. He said Jerome had too many whore bitches on the streets that want him to take it from someone like her. Jerome sat there like he hadn’t done anything. Netta listened as her brother talked to her like she was nothing. She saw a knife on the counter near where her brother was sitting. She grabbed the knife and cut her brother across his right cheek. Blood started pouring from his cut. She looked over to where Jerome was sitting and he saw the look in her eyes. He stood up to run. Just then, Tucker came into the kitchen. He saw the knife in Netta’s hand and Tyrone bleeding and holding his cheek. He grabbed Netta’s hand with the knife, yelling at her to let it go. He got the knife from her. While she was crying, she could hear him asking what in the hell was going on in there. She grabbed him around his neck and held on to him. She asked him to help her. She told him what Tyrone’s friend Jerome had done to her and what her brother Tyrone had said to her. Tucker picked up the knife and cut Jerome across the face. He threw down the knife and started stomping Jerome. It took four people to get him off of Jerome.

Tyrone still tried to say he didn’t know anything about what happened. But he knew Tucker wasn’t having any of Tyrone’s stories. He threw Jerome out into the street and threatened to kill him if he came anywhere near his sister again. Tucker wanted to know where their mother was while this was happening. She, of course, was out with one of her male friends, most likely getting nailed. When Tucker spoke to his mother later that night, he said he didn’t want any guys in there when she wasn’t home. She had better make sure no one ever touch his sister again. If they did, he would kill her and whoever the person was.

Tucker is the one who brings in the real money so whatever he says is the law around the house. Tyrone is the oldest but he can’t stand up against Tucker. Tucker is the type to be fair but firm in what he believes. He doesn’t have a problem killing if he thinks it’s justified. Out of all her brothers, Tucker is the one who thinks things through and can be a good leader. He is smart enough to have done well in college, if he had been given the opportunity to attend. When Netta learned she was pregnant with Jerome’s child, she went to Tucker. He found Jerome and told him what he expected from him for the kid. Jerome gives Tucker $150 a week for care of his son. Tucker won’t allow Jerome anywhere near the kid. He calls him a rapist and says the boy doesn’t need to know his rapist father.

I like Tucker, he’s the only one of them that doesn’t like the streets. He has taken some courses in business management. I think he has a plan to get away from the life his brothers and mother seem to love. He has a job that he goes to as well as his hustling thing. I think if anyone is going to make a better life for himself, it would be Tucker. I think he wants something different for Netta and her son too. I wish I had someone like him in my life. Maybe if I get lucky, I can get out of the Watsons’ home and find happiness.

3

Angie

I thought I was so lucky to have Mr. and Mrs. Watson as foster parents. When they asked me if I wanted them to adopt me, I was thrilled. This is such a lovely neighborhood and I live in a nice house with pretty things. I went to the best private school they could find within our neighborhood. I was treated like a princess and taught to feel like one. The first few years were heaven. That was what I thought. But it all turned out to just look that way. Mr. Watson was some kind of financial advisor and made good money. He was a partner in a firm located in Downtown Manhattan. He did something he should not have and it all came down on him. His partners bought him out of the firm. That is the story we were all told. He still sees some of the people he worked with. They have small dinner parties, and sometimes, they talk about business. He never goes into an office to work but he says he does have a job.

The Watsons had three other foster daughters before I came here—Candice, Roberta, and Darlene. They were no longer living here when I came but they would come to the dinner parties. They never really said much to me about anything. They asked if I was mix with Spanish and white. I told them that my real mother is Spanish. They asked if I knew where she was from and I told them Puerto Rico was what I had heard. They said they were Spanish also and that the Watsons have this thing for pretty Spanish girls. They love to adopt them and give them a better life. Mrs. Watson was white mixed with Spanish, and Mr. Watson was black and Spanish. They both looked more Spanish than anything else.

Mr. Watson’s clients are mostly white and Italian. There were a few that were black and Latino. When I turned fourteen, I was told I would be attending one of their dinner parties. I was so excited to be a part of everything. I was dressed in what I considered a grown-up fashion. Mrs. Watson even put makeup on me. I was thrilled to be playing grown-up with them. I had always been treated like such a perfect child. Dance classes and private tutors for subjects I found hard in school. I went to a private school and wasn’t allowed to make friends with the children in my neighborhood. I was lonely, and I was happy to finally be allowed to attend something where I could meet people. Maybe I would have some fun.

But the dinner party wasn’t what I thought. There were other girls there but they weren’t friendly. The Watsons’ other foster daughters were there and they were just as distant as they always are. I was just someone that was there; I almost felt invisible at one point in the party. Then suddenly things started to get strange. Grown men started talking to me about what I liked. They talked about taking me on trips and buying me pretty things. I told them that I couldn’t take things from people I didn’t know. My father came to me during the party and told me to take whatever anyone wants to give me. He said it was part of being a good host. It would help him in his business ventures. That was why he let me come to the party. He said that some of his clients had seen me or heard about how pretty I was. They wanted to meet me. He instructed me to be polite to all of them. What he meant was be generous with my body to the men at the party. It was the worst time of my life. Having men talk the way they talked to me. Touching and groping my body that way. Rubbing up against me with their hands landing wherever they pleased.

As time went on and I had to attend more parties, I had to do more things with his clients. Eventually I was made to have sex with different clients. They would pay Mr. Watson in advance for my sexual favors. I hated the thought of being touched by those men. I was made to take birth control and it was a reminder to me what my life really was. I would sometimes forget