In Sheep's Clothing Page 2

  The policeman cleared his throat to get my attention back. “You said you’d never seen them before, is that right?” he mumbled.

  “That’s right.” I nodded.

  “Well, if the perpetrators had on masks, how would you know that?”

  “Wh . . . what?” I stammered. It wasn’t bad enough that I was already flustered. But now I was being grilled like I was the one who had committed a crime.

  The policeman massaged his forehead with his thumb and gave me an exasperated look. “Do you want to tell me what really happened, ma’am?”

  “I just told you,” I wailed, getting angry all over again. I knew what he was thinking. A few of the cashiers in the ’hood plucked money from the cash registers, robbing their employers blind. Then they staged phony robberies to cover the thefts. One of the problems with that was these same thieves blabbed to the wrong people and now even the cops knew about that scam. “Look, sir, this is my daddy’s liquor store. If you think I’d steal from my own daddy, you got another think coming. Now if you don’t want to take this report, give me your badge and precinct number so I can call up your supervisor and tell him to send somebody out here who can do the job!” I was proud of the fact that I had enough courage to stand up to an authority figure when I had to. But I knew enough about rogue cops to know that that could get me into trouble, or killed, too. And since the cop and I were alone, I decided that it would be in my best interest for me to be a little more docile. “Uh . . . if you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this up so I can call my daddy,” I said in a meek voice, looking at the cop’s shiny black boots.

  “I’m just doing my job, ma’am. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Well, I didn’t make this up and I hope you believe me.”

  “I do believe you, Miss Bell. I apologize if I implied otherwise. Like I said, I’m just doing my job.” The cop paused and gave me a quick, weak smile. “Well, if you can think of anything else, please give us another call. I suggest you close up and call it a day. You’ve been through enough.” With a sniff the officer snapped his notebook shut, tipped his hat, and strolled out of the store, whistling like he was on his way to a ball game.

  Before I could lock up and leave, Hai Suk, the old Chinese woman who owned the nail shop next door, entered the store clutching a fistful of bills. She padded across the floor on her tiptoes like she always did. “Five quick pick, cash value. I feel lucky today,” she said, slapping the money onto the counter. Her grin disappeared and she gave me a concerned look. Her eyes were already so narrow I wondered how she could see. But she narrowed them some more and looked at me long and hard. “Trudy, you don’t look too good.”

  “We just got robbed,” I mumbled, placing five lottery tickets into her dried hand.

  “Again?” Hai Suk asked, shaking her head. “So sorry, so sorry. Last week was my turn. Not much money so crook take nail drill and cell phone, too.” Hai Suk turned her head to the side and tapped a faint bruise below her fish-like eye. “Doctor say if robber hit me one inch higher I maybe lose eye.”

  “You want anything else, Miss Suk? I’m going to close up and go home now.” I sighed. It felt like I was breathing through a tube.

  The old lady shook her head, her coarse gray and black hair dangling about her parched yellow face like a vine. “I see you next time, Trudy.”

  “No, you won’t,” I announced proudly, feeling like I’d just returned from the dead. I was even able to smile now. “I’m starting a new job on Monday.”

  “Good for you.” Hai Suk waved her hand in the air, then fanned her face with the lottery tickets. She bobbed her head so hard her eyes watered. “I don’t like to work so hard. Did I tell you about . . .”

  I held up my hand and flashed a smile. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really do have to close up and leave,” I said as gently as I could. Hai Suk was like so many of the people I knew. She liked to share her business with the world and she liked to take her time doing it.

  Well, this was one day that I didn’t have the time to listen to anybody else’s problems. I had enough of my own to keep me occupied. As far as I was concerned my ordeal was not over yet. The police had come and gone and had been of little or no use. The boy who had robbed me admitted that he had been watching the place. He could have been peeping from behind a tree right now for all I knew, waiting to pounce again.

  Hai Suk gave me a grin and a nod. “I understand, Trudy. I just want to say I hope next job is better.”

  “It will be,” I said, clicking off the lights and snatching open the door to let the old woman out. “I’ll still come by your shop to get my nails done,” I promised.

  I stared out the door for a few minutes, wondering if it was safe for me to leave. I had some serious concerns because the boy who had robbed me knew about James and me. If he knew that much, then it was possible that he knew where I lived. I had never seen him before. At least I didn’t think so. I let out a deep breath and with it went some of my anger and fear. I had to move forward with my life and put this behind me. And standing there in that darkened liquor store, that’s just what I decided to do.

  I didn’t know if my next job was going to be better, but I knew it would be safer. And I’d make more money so I’d be able to give myself the material rewards I so desperately wanted. Not that any of that mattered to Daddy, though. He’d been upset ever since I’d started going on interviews three weeks ago.

  Having to go home and deal with a grumpy old man after being robbed and sexually assaulted was the last thing I wanted to do. But I didn’t have a choice in the matter and that was part of the frustration I’d been feeling lately.

  Changing jobs was one choice I was glad I’d finally made. I had already decided that even if my new position turned out to be the job from hell, I would make the best of it.

  As soon as I got a job offer Daddy fussed about it so much he had chest pains. He thought that that, and a slew of his other ailments, would make me change my mind.

  “What if I need to get to the hospital?” he had asked when I told him I’d accepted the job I’d been offered.

  “Miss Plummer from across the street said she’d keep an eye on you,” I told him. “She used to be a nurse.”

  “And how do you plan to get to San Jose?” he asked, wheezing louder and harder than usual. “That’s twenty miles from South Bay City. You know I need the car to get around in,” he whined.

  “I’ll take the bus until I can afford a car of my own,” I told him.

  “San Jose is a big city. It ain’t no safe place for no woman to be roamin’ around.”

  “I’ve been to San Jose dozens of times, Daddy, and nobody has ever bothered me. The only place I’ve ever been bothered is right here. . . .”

  CHAPTER 3

  I could barely keep my attention on the road as I drove home. South Bay City was a mostly blue-collar city with a little more than fifty thousand residents. To see so many of the city’s young Black men hanging out on the street corners on this particular day infuriated me more than it normally did. I ran a red light when one hissed in my direction to get my attention so he could wink at me.

  I knew most of the individuals holding court on the streets, so I knew that the majority of them didn’t have the time or the desire to go to school or work. And it was no wonder. Why would anybody want to work when they could rob and assault people like me and get away with it? The fact that so many criminals didn’t have to deal with any consequences for their crimes had a lot to do with the mess I eventually got myself into.

  The noisy old Chevy that I shared with my daddy made enough noise to wake up the whole street we lived on. But Daddy was already hanging out the front window of our living room with an exasperated look on his tired face when I pulled into our driveway.

  Even though it had stopped raining, dark clouds hovered over our house making everything seem just that much more menacing. Every door in our house had two dead bolts. And Daddy and one of his friends had put bars on ev
ery window except the one in the front where Daddy liked to roost. I couldn’t figure out why I was so worried about the same boy coming to the house to take even more from me. And, as old and feeble as Daddy was, he would do everything he could to protect me.

  “Trudy, what you doin’ home so early? Who’s mindin’ the store?” he yelled before I could even get into the house.

  “We got robbed again, Daddy,” I told him, watching the expression on his face turn to one of anger. “There were two of them this time. Teenagers.”

  A horrified look appeared in a flash on Daddy’s tired face. He leaned farther out the window. “They didn’t hurt you or nothin’, did they, baby?” Daddy’s eyes watered and his lips quivered. “I can’t have nobody messin’ with my girl. You all I got left.”

  My feet felt so heavy I could barely lift them up the three steps to the front porch. “They didn’t hurt me, Daddy. They just took the money and ran,” I muttered, my eyes looking everywhere but at Daddy’s face. It was hard for me to look in his eyes and lie.

  “Oh. Well, wipe your feet, come on in this house and get dinner started. James just called here ’cause wasn’t nobody answerin’ at the store. He was wonderin’ where you was at.”

  I didn’t speak again until I got inside. Dragging my feet across the living room floor, I dropped my thin, discount-store windbreaker onto the back of the wing chair facing Daddy as he stood in front of the couch, with his tacky housecoat looking more like a body bag. One thing I was proud of was the fact that even though we didn’t have much money, our house was nicely furnished and never cluttered. Our outdated plaid furniture and dull brown carpets were clean, and everything else was always in its place. And even though we recycled mayonnaise jars and used them for wineglasses and some of our pots and pans didn’t have handles, I was proud of everything we had. But that didn’t stop me from wanting something better.

  “Daddy, if you don’t get a security camera, the store’ll get robbed on a regular basis from now on. And the next time we won’t be so lucky. The guy had a gun,” I said, running my tongue across my lips.

  Despite the heavy dose of Scope I’d used to rinse out my mouth after the assault, and the three sticks of Dentyne I was smacking on now, the vile taste of the stranger’s most intimate body part was still in my mouth. At least it seemed that way to me. I took a sip from an open bottle of warm beer on the coffee table but it didn’t help. The inside of my mouth still had that unholy taste in it.

  Knowing that I was not that wild about beer, especially when it was room temperature, Daddy gave me a blank look as he fell back onto the couch he was so fond of. “Where was brother Clarke at?” With a groan, Daddy wobbled back up from the couch and snatched my windbreaker off the chair and hung it on the hook behind the door. When it came to his house, he was the neatest man I knew.

  “Getting his weekly ‘massage,’” I sneered. I tossed my well-worn denim shoulder bag onto our coffee table, the top of which contained an empty candy dish so pristine I could see my face in it.

  “Them suckers didn’t take my new radio off the counter, did they?” Daddy asked, plopping back down on the couch again with a painful moan.

  “No, they didn’t take your new radio, Daddy.” I was too restless to sit, so I stood in front of him with my arms folded, shifting my weight from one foot to the other like I had to pee again.

  Daddy looked me up and down with his hooded eyes narrowed and his gray mustache wiggling like a caterpillar above his lip. I was glad that the urine on my jeans had dried completely now, but it had left a stain. “And you say they didn’t touch you or nothin’?”

  I shook my head, turning before Daddy noticed my soiled clothing. “No, they didn’t.”

  “Well, I’m sure enough glad for that.” Daddy sighed and fanned his face with a rolled newspaper. “I thawed out them neck bones.”

  I finally eased down onto the arm of the couch, crossing my legs. “Daddy, I wish you would close that place up or sell it or something. It’s getting too dangerous.”

  “And what we gwine to do for money?” Daddy’s eyes were too busy watching one of Ricki Lake’s daily sideshows on the television, one of his favorite pastimes. “Hmmm?”

  “I’ll be making a lot more at my new job. As long as I work, I can help you out. And with James’s salary, we’ll do fine,” I insisted.

  Daddy whipped his head around and gave me a hard look. “You the one marryin’ James, not me. I can’t expect that man to support me. Besides, that mama of his ain’t about to let nothin’ like that happen. What’s wrong with you, girl?”

  I sighed so hard my throat hurt. “I’m tired. I want to take a hot bath and go to bed. I got a lot of things I need to do before Monday. I need to go out tomorrow and get some office clothes, I need to learn the bus schedule to San Jose, and I need to practice my typing.”

  Like me, Daddy bought almost everything he wore off a clearance rack at a discount store or from a secondhand store. Size, style, and color didn’t matter. His housecoat was two sizes too large. The tail swept the floor as he followed me to my tiny bedroom near the front of our one-story stucco house. He stood leaning against the doorway. “And what you know about workin’ a travel agency, Trudy? You ain’t had no experience.”

  “I’m just going to be a secretary. I have done some clerical work so I know all I need to know. Besides, I’ll finally get to do a little traveling,” I said, sitting down hard onto my squeaky bed.

  My room was slightly larger than a walk-in closet. It barely accommodated my twin bed and a few other pieces of furniture. But it was the only room in the house where I felt comfortable anymore. And it was the only place in the house where there were still traces of my mother. I had insisted on keeping some of her clothes. One of her favorite sweaters, pink cashmere, was in my closet. A small framed photograph of her occupied my nightstand. Right next to it was a picture of James Young, the man I had agreed to marry. I had been counting on James to “rescue” me for the past ten years.

  “Travel so you can end up just like your mama did?” Daddy barked, rubbing his chest. Daddy’s numerous ailments, his “bad” heart being the crutch he used most, had all started right after my mother’s death and had become more profound over the years. When he wanted to make me feel guilty about something, or sorry for him, he threw in complaints about his arthritis and high blood pressure. “I just hope I live long enough to see you get married . . .”

  “Don’t you start that again because it won’t work. James doesn’t want me to work after we get married so this might be the last time I get to see what having a real job is like. Besides, working for a travel agency sounds like it’ll be a lot of fun. I might even be able to get you some traveling discounts.”

  “You can get me all the discounts you want. I ain’t gwine no place.” Daddy paused as a sad look appeared on his face. “Not now, not never. If your mama hadn’t been so hot to see the world, she’d be here with us right now.”

  Flying or anything else that had to do with traveling was a sore subject with my daddy. Mama had been a flight attendant for Pan Am. She had divided her time between our house and an apartment that she had shared with several other flight attendants in New York because Daddy had refused to quit his job and move to the East Coast.

  Mama had been called in at the last minute to replace a sick coworker. That was also her last day at her job. Her last day period. A terrorist group had placed bombs on the plane and it exploded over Lockerbie, Scotland, four days before Christmas in ’88, when I was twelve. Daddy was still in mourning. And, in a more disturbing way, so was I.

  My grief was so extreme it often interfered with the decisions I made. I had chosen not to go away to college, even though I’d been offered a scholarship. At the time, it seemed more important for me to be close by in case something happened to Daddy. I had even settled into a relationship with James mainly because Daddy liked him. The feelings I had for James were not the feelings I wanted to experience in a relationship with a man. T
he passion I felt for him was mild, but he offered me protection, companionship, and security. And, not that it was that important, he also provided safe and regular sex. My life had become such a routine and so predictable that you could set a clock by it.

  I had no idea how drastically it was about to change.

  CHAPTER 4

  I looked a lot like Daddy. I had inherited his medium-brown skin, kinky black hair, and small black eyes. I had thin lips and a narrow nose for a Black woman. By looking at me, most people couldn’t tell that I was biracial. And I didn’t go around broadcasting it, or bragging about it the way some mixed race folks did. My mother had been the only child of a so-called liberal White couple who had marched and protested all over Berkeley during the sixties.

  Daddy had found out just how liberal his wife’s family was when he married her. He’d been cussed out by Mama’s family and she’d been disowned. I had never met any relatives on my late mother’s side and didn’t even know if they were still in Berkeley.

  Some of Daddy’s family still lived in Tennessee. And almost every Black person in Lubbock, Texas, was related to us. Daddy’s deceased parents had moved to California while he was still in Vietnam. When he got out of the army he decided to settle in California. Four of Daddy’s five siblings and their families were scattered all over the country. Uncle Pete, the family nitwit, was the only one who had also moved to California.

  My only sibling, Gary, had died at nineteen in an automobile accident two years after Mama’s death. Along with Daddy, my brother had been the center of my universe. Gary’s death devastated me. I couldn’t even go to his funeral. I stayed at the home of a girlfriend until some old sisters in the neighborhood helped Daddy dispose of Gary’s belongings. When Goodwill came to get Gary’s bedroom furniture, I discovered one of his Prince cassette tapes stuck behind the dresser drawer. The sight of it caused me to have a panic attack.

  I crawled into Daddy’s bed that night, wrapping my arms around his lumpy body so tight he could barely breathe. “You can sleep with me tonight, but don’t you do this no more. It ain’t natural,” Daddy said, his face pressed against my hair. His bedroom was so dark and quiet that night I felt like I was in a tomb. I wanted to speak but couldn’t find my voice. Somehow I managed to nod my head enough for Daddy to feel it.