Adjustment
Every now and then, life forces us to make an adjustment. We are inherently able to adapt. It is in our DNA. It is why we are able to survive whatever life throws our way. Without the ability to adjust, we would become hostage to our fears, lose who we are, and become stagnant.
BREEZE
THE INSIDE OF the bed and bath store reeked of cinnamon and I sneezed. My cheeks flushed with the drastic change in temperature from outside. I removed my coat and threw it in the carriage Viv brought over.
“Pick out anything you want,” Viv told me.
I stared at rows of colored towels stretching to the ceiling and wondered how I got there. “This is weird,” I said, my gaze moving to a stack of rugs.
“What’s that?” Viv asked.
“This, living with Shame, him buying stuff to decorate a bedroom that isn’t even mine . . . Not being with my dad.”
“I guess it’s a little weird, but I think if you honestly looked at your situation, it’s for your own good.”
There it was. The lesson she had been entrusted with teaching me, although I wasn’t prepared to disagree with her. Instead, I quietly followed her down the bedding aisle.
“He kinda scares me,” I finally admitted.
“Shame?” she asked.
Obviously Shame. “Yeah.”
“He scares a lot of people.” She shrugged. “Do what he says, keep your nose clean and follow the rules. You’ll be fine. You can have a great life. And he would never hurt you.”
My feelings were what scared me. Clearly Viv couldn’t see it, but, he could hurt me. I knew I was crazy. I also knew without question it was love at first sight, at least for me. It was wrong, though. So, so wrong. I had to put any romantic notions for Shame out of my mind. I knew that. An entire decade prevented him from ever being with me. Accepting reality didn’t make me any less infatuated.
“How ‘bout this?” Viv pointed to a zebra-print comforter set with hot pink details.
Anything was better than the plaid comforter currently draping the bed. “It’s nice.”
She went on to load the carriage with matching accessories, a lamp, curtains, and a puffy photo board for the wall.
“And you have to have this to read in,” she said, her voice loaded with excitement.
She plopped down in a fuzzy zebra-print chair shaped like a circle.
“Yeah, sure,” I agreed, rather than telling her how The Bastards would walk the straight and narrow long before I picked up a book.
She grabbed one of the folded ones and balanced it on top of the carriage.
Next we wandered into the bath section where Viv and I picked out towels and sink accessories to match my new room décor. Even the small trash barrel came in zebra stripes.
It felt strange to hear myself laugh with a girl besides Pocket. I liked Viv. Maybe she even had the potential to be someone I could look up to as a mother figure. That might have been pushing it, but I enjoyed our time together.
Once she paid for everything, we loaded our purchases in her SUV and walked across the parking lot to a cell phone store.
“Which one do you want?” she asked once we were inside.
I never owned a cell phone. Like any teenager wanting to be cool, I wanted one. But I felt uncomfortable about the amount of Shame’s money we had already spent. The bill at the home store topped four hundred dollars. I didn’t want to be indebted to him further. After all, I was already working off an astronomical amount my father racked up.
“How ‘bout this one?” she asked.
It was the latest and greatest smart phone.
“I don’t think I need a phone,” I answered quietly.
“Shame insisted.”
I pursed my lips and stared at my shoes for a beat before I met her gaze. “I don’t wanna owe him anymore than I already do.”
“Look.” She sighed, and then glanced around. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Working at the clubhouse is about your father’s debt. Anything Shame buys for you is because he wants to. You owe nothing for it.”
I picked up the phone and looked at it. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. He wants you to have it so he can reach you.”
If I had known better, I would have understood he wanted to keep tabs on me, but at thirteen, a cell phone was cool.
After finishing up at the cell phone store, we stopped and ate subs for lunch. Then we headed to the hardware store where Viv and I picked out paint for my room. The plain beige walls were fine with me, but Viv insisted we paint them hot pink with a zebra-print border.
In the checkout line, I remembered this morning and said, “I need to stop at one more store.”
“Sure, what do you need?”
I made a face, trying not to giggle. “Bloomers, apparently.”
She let out a laugh that had people staring at her. Then she apologized. “Berg had the exact same conversation with me.”
I returned her laugh. “Who says that? I mean, seriously.”
“Berg was old school. He also referred to bras as brassieres. The apple didn’t fall far.”
She shook her head as I followed her out of the store. I couldn’t help thinking how well things turned out for Viv. Our situations were so similar, and I wanted to believe I would be like her someday, confident, and yet, still carefree. As strange as my circumstances were, maybe everything happened for a reason. I hoped Shame could help me as much as his dad helped Viv.
Before heading back to the clubhouse, we made one more stop and purchased an assortment of acceptable bloomers. By the time we pulled into the driveway, exhaustion had settled in. The two hours of sleep the previous night had me yawning as I got out of the SUV.
“Leave them,” Viv told me when I opened the gate of the SUV to get our bags. “Dozer will bring them up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. He’s great like that. I’m going to go in and prep for dinner. Meet me in the kitchen at five.”
“Did you get everything she needs?” I heard Shame’s voice and turned to see him poke his head out from under the hood of an old, but fully restored, Camaro.
Viv answered we had and Shame went right back to working on the car without even a glance my way.
I went up the side stairs to what I guess I could now call my house, although it felt weird. On the bed in my room, I found all of my schoolbooks, along with an assortment of school supplies and a note.
Reluctantly, I lifted the piece of paper. All of my missing assignments for the year were listed, along with a date each one must be turned in. I felt Shame fill the doorway and turned around. He wore coveralls that reeked like oil. I breathed through my mouth to soften the smell.
“What’s this?” I asked him, holding up the note.
He stroked his beard once before he answered. “While you were out, I paid a visit to your teachers. You’re failing most of your classes, but they agreed to let you make up the work. You have a lot of catching up to do. I suggest you get started right after dinner.”
“Why bother?” I asked. My tone bounced off the walls and echoed in my ears. I sounded like a typical teenage brat, and Shame’s frown hurt my feelings. I didn’t want him to see me as immature.
Before I could apologize, sheer annoyance marred his features. I sat on the bed, cowering like a scolded puppy.
“In my house, there are rules. You will complete your homework and maintain a high GPA.”
He had to be kidding, I hoped. The members of his club were nothing more than a band of degenerate dropouts.
“You’re serious?” I scoffed.
That smile of his irritated me. It was an I know you like me grin, and he knew exactly how to use it.
“Yeah, Dimples. I’m dead serious.”
“Whatever.” I tossed the note on the bed. “It’s not like I’m gonna go to college or anything.”
Refraining from sounding immature didn’t happen. I was.
“Why wouldn’t you go to college?” He entered the room. His sheer presence filled the space. I felt like I couldn’t take a full breath.
“Why would I?” He looked at me sternly, but I didn’t react as a petulant child this time. One thing I wasn’t, was delusional. I came from the ghetto, from a poor family. College was for rich kids, the ones raised in the swank lofts over in the North End, not someone living above a gang’s clubhouse, next to a garage. “Look where we come from? Our kind of people don’t go to college.”
“My people do what I tell them to.” He stepped close to me and the harsh look in his eyes hushed me from arguing further. “And I’m telling you . . . you will get good grades, and you will go college.”
He had this way of growling under his breath when I frustrated him and he wanted to control his anger. This should have been a warning, but I was too stupid to take it.
“You can’t make me go to college. I’ll be outta here by then.”
“That’s the last time you’ll speak to me like a defiant brat.” That growl had become a rumble and I knew then to keep quiet. “Don’t sass me. Don’t roll your eyes at me, and don’t even think about testing me. You’ll do exactly as you’re told or there will be consequences. You’re here for one reason. Understood?”
“Understood,” I said and ground my teeth to keep from crying. My quivering lip gave me away and I crossed my arms. “You don’t have to be so mean.”
“You think I’m mean?” The way his nostrils flared, I assumed he didn’t expect an answer. “You haven’t begun to see me mean. I’m sorry your old man’s a loser and you think you got a raw deal. I could’ve killed him, left you on your own, but I took you in instead, because it’s what my pop would’ve done. But don’t mistake kindness for weakness. I own you. You’ll do as you’re told without the bitchy attitude.” His grip hurt when he wrapped his hand around my arm. I sucked in a scared breath and searched his gaze for mercy. “The list on the bulletin board lays out the expectations. Read them and follow them or you’ll see me get mean. Got it?”
I nodded because it wasn’t like I had a choice.
He released my arm and returned to the door, watching me with heated tension. The hostile waves rolled off of him and enveloped me. The restrictive feeling made me want to run, but I would stay until I turned eighteen. For my dad’s sake, I would do whatever he told me to. I also considered how things worked out for Viv. If I could make this adjustment, I could be like her. I truly wanted that.
The list took up the entire page. Monday through Friday, he let me off the hook for making breakfast due to school. After school, I had to come straight home. A two-hour block had been designated for homework and studying, before I cooked dinner and cleaned up the clubhouse. Then another two-hour homework block before bed. I would have told him I didn’t need four hours to do homework, but the last thing on the list required me to read two books a week. Hell, I hadn’t read two books in my entire life. Guess Viv had a heads-up on the rules when she picked out that silly chair.
The weekends were worse. I had to deep clean the clubhouse as well as Shame’s place, do all the club’s laundry and prepare three meals.
“Child labor’s illegal,” I shot at Shame with humor in my voice.
“So, call a cop.” The corner of his lip curled.
I chuckled, relieved he took my comment as a joke. “Won’t do me any good. They’re all crooked.”
“Your old man wasn’t.”
That spiked my curiosity. “I heard you say he did the club favors.”
“Eh, he gave a heads up if rival gangs were stirring up shit. My pop had a lot of respect for your old man.”
His words were nice to hear. At least some memory of my dad would remain untarnished. I lifted my head and continued reading the law according to Shame.
Was there no happy medium?
In addition to studying and cleaning, he required me to get involved in school activities. That one sucked. I didn’t have any interests. I didn’t like clubs. Sports were out of the question given my two left feet. The only reason I went to school was to hang out with Pocket. By choice, I wasn’t a good student, nor did I fit in with the rest of the student body.
Teachers hated me and the girls who made fun of me were bitches. I had a reputation as the school slut, which was funny since I had never even kissed a boy. Even Shame didn’t count there. He was after all a man, not a boy.
With a slight eye roll, I brushed past Shame and went downstairs to help Viv with dinner. I smiled when I saw boxes of elbow macaroni, bell peppers and hamburger. American Chop Suey was one meal I knew how to cook, and I loved it.
Tank and Dozer moved the furniture out of the room and painted the walls while Viv and I cooked dinner. I had to admit by the time we were done eating, I couldn’t wait to get started decorating. But I had to help with cleanup and make sure all of the dishes were done first.
Eight o’clock rolled around by the time I got started. The paint wasn’t quite dry, but Tank helped me bring the furniture back into my room, including a small computer desk that turned up from somewhere. Shame brought in a laptop and set it on the desk. I also had a new bookcase full of books. The shelves were filled with classics and more modern titles the kids at school talked about. I guess the books would help fulfill Shame’s reading requirements.
Once all of the decorations were in place, I loved my room. At my dad’s I still had a twin bed and the butterfly decorations that went with my baby nursery. The walls back home were grimy, as was the carpet, and four of five drawers in my chest were broken, so I hung all my clothes in the closet on wire hangers Pocket had given to me.
At Shame’s, I had my own bathroom. One without pee on the seat, where the lid would always be down, and I didn’t have to wait for my dad to finish reading the newspaper.
But Shame’s wasn’t my home, and his crew of hooligans weren’t my family. My purpose there centered on working off my dad’s debt. Shame had been clear. I served the club as nothing more than an employee. Getting too comfortable wasn’t an option. I realized how little I counted when Shame ordered me out of bed and reminded me I had homework to do. He left as quickly as he came.
The next five years were bound to be infinitely longer than the first thirteen.
I sat at the desk and got started on the homework due tomorrow. The work came easy to me. I just never saw the point in doing it. Maybe Shame was right. Going to college would get me out of a town that would hold me back. I never thought about leaving, but I knew Pocket had plans for college. And she was all I had keeping me in Southie. If I stayed, I would be stuck taking care of my dad and wishing Shame thought of me as more than a project. That little revelation terrified me.
Would I still be infatuated with Shame as an adult?
I decided right then and there to study hard, and one day, get the hell out of the hood.
Scratching at the door interrupted me. I opened it. Gus strutted into the room like he owned the place and hopped up on my bed. I sighed. “Okay then. Get comfortable.”
The next three hours were spent on make-up work before I crawled into bed next to a sleeping Gus with To Kill a Mockingbird.
To my surprise, every word about Scout and Jim and Boo captivated me. I did everything I could to keep my eyes open, but fatigue pulled me under.
Making an adjustment is not easy. We are programmed to accept things how things are. When we have to adjust, our instinct is to dig our heels in. It is when we stop resisting and deal with change we discover new things. We learn life has wiggle room. This is when we discover we can be whomever we want, and we don’t have to lie dormant.
SHAME
I couldn’t stay at my place. The adjustment to having Breeze in the next room would take some time. Whenever she smiled at me, I felt a warm sensation in my chest. She was off limits, and thinking of her other than a child made me a sick fuck. I wasn’t as demented as Dixon, but twisted all the same.
The feeling wasn’t necessarily sexual with Breeze. I felt a sense of peace with her. Content. Something about her made me feel vulnerable. She reminded me of myself at her age, stuck in a family that would only bring her down. School saved me from trouble. The thought of getting out had kept me focused. My plans fell apart when my pop died, but I was determined to not let anything stop Breeze. Her father used her when he should have been raising her. I had the power to change her life.
I knew she could have easily ended up one of the girls Dixon planned to ship off. A possibility she could be picked up off the street remained, and I didn’t like how uncomfortable I felt. I had Tank put one of the youngens’ on her. Breeze would go nowhere without a shadow. Not while she was my responsibility.
I wasn’t sure where to go so I drove around for a while, thinking. After the bomb my sister dropped on me, I wasn’t ready to hang with my crew. I should have told them about Maddie’s profession. The club trusted me to keep them informed, but this was Maddie. And we had a rat. I didn’t know who I could trust and if it got back to Dixon Maddie worked for the Fed’s, he would kill her. I could not, and would not, risk it.
My not sharing would backfire if Maddie were playing me, if her true intention laid in taking down the club. But I had a sense Pop wanted me to protect her. I had to go with my gut.
Unfocused and in need of female companionship, I paid a visit to Sabina’s. It had been a couple of months since I had been with her. I always sought her out when I needed comfort, maybe because she was older than me, and more experienced in the bedroom than the skanks at the club. I didn’t have to guide her to please me. Or perhaps I craved the motherly side of her. She knew me well, knew we would never be monogamous, but she made herself available whenever I needed her.
Her smile as she opened the door warmed me. She took one look at me and pulled me into her arms. I ran my hands up the back of her silky lavender bathrobe before balling her long brown hair in my fist and kissed her hard. She moaned against my mouth as she closed the door.
Sabina was exactly where I needed to be. I needed to lose myself inside of her. I loved she would let me. She didn’t make inquiries as to why I needed her or what was wrong with me. She always knew. And she knew exactly how to take care of me.
I kept my lips attached to hers as I steered her backward to her bedroom. The moment her ass hit the bed, she undid the button on my jeans. My pants were shoved to my knees and her pretty red mouth wrapped around my dick. I palmed the back of her head as she took me in deep. She sucked hard and fast, digging her fingernails into my ass with one hand while the other worked the base of my cock.
It didn’t take long for my balls to tingle and warmth to spread through me. I arched my back, pushing forward with my hips on release. My limbs went numb as I erupted into her mouth. In those few seconds, I felt content, as if there were no demons to slay. Temporary bliss made reality fade away and I took every last pleasurable moment of it. Sabina worked her mouth over the tip of my dick, swallowing and licking every last drop of cum. I traced a line along her parted lips with the pad of my thumb and then pushed her backward.
She watched me heatedly as I stripped my clothes. I bent over and removed her panties, prepared to return the favor and eat her pussy until she came, but she pulled me on top of her. I put a stop to things long enough to roll on a condom. Sabina groaned her disappointment but her whining fell on deaf ears. I refused to knock some bitch up and be tied to her for life.
Condoms were a safety net, and I was nothing, if not safe. The moment I settled back between her thighs, she used her hand to guide my dick into her warm pussy. I let out a sigh as I collapsed on top of her.
Her moans came steady as I pumped my hips. Sex always provided me with an escape, but sex with Sabina went a little further, like a sanctuary where I could hide for a while. We were easy together, no strings, no expectations. I never worried she wanted more from me, like the club hoes. They all thought their pussy had special powers. As if I would fuck them, and poof, they would magically have old lady status. I would never grant anyone that kind of hold over me. Not after my bitch mother bailed on my pop, leaving him with three kids to raise. But women were desperate.
Even when I told those bitches I had no intentions of being tied down, they were so narcissistic they thought that applied to every woman but them. I had been slapped and called a mutha fucker more times than I could remember. Yet, most usually came back for another try, which I kindly obliged to get laid. Their lack of self-respect was not my problem.
Sabina, on the other hand, never came to me. Waiting willingly for me didn’t make her any more dignified than the others, but it did make it easier for me.
“Oh, God,” Sabina cried out, drawing me from my thoughts. I cupped the back of her ass as she wrapped her legs around me, drawing me close. She stared at me for an uncomfortable beat before turning her head. Our hips met on each hard thrust. I gritted my teeth, the veins in my neck bulging as I pounded harder, until I felt her clenching around me.
I closed my eyes but then stilled at the face in my mind. Breeze appeared. It was wrong to think about her while fucking Sabina. I felt disgusted thinking about her, period. She was too young for me. But there she lay before me, smiling, her dimples full of sweet satisfaction as she brought her hips up.
Breeze wanted me. I felt it from the moment I laid eyes on her, and wrong or right, I had wanted her too. Attraction was a ruthless son of bitch. Thank God nothing happened, but I couldn’t shake her. No matter how hard I squeezed my eyes closed, I felt guilt and disgust and perverted. For a moment it felt like I fucked her and the distain grew so debilitating I froze.
“Don’t stop, please,” Sabina groaned in my ear.
I popped my eyes back open, aware again it was Sabina my dick was buried in. I feared Breeze would reappear, so I forced my eyes to stay open and focused on Sabina’s face as I went back to work.
Her head tipped back as she screamed my name and gave into climax. With a few more thrusts, I followed her, my dick jerking inside of her as I relaxed.
“That was . . . wow,” she said as I rolled off her.
Was it?
I had been removed for most of it.
“Yeah,” I breathed in agreement, before I got up and went to the bathroom to get rid of the condom.
Still feeling tightly wound, I returned to the bed and lied on my back. Sabina fetched a joint out of her nightstand drawer and lit it, before handing it to me. I inhaled a long drag and held it in.
“So what’s bothering you?” she asked.
I exhaled and handed her the joint. If I didn’t tell someone, I would make myself nuts. She took a drag and then rolled the joint in her slim fingers.
“My sister’s back in town.”
My eyes focused on the cloud of smoke as she exhaled.
“Aw, and how is Maddie?” she asked.
I almost let the truth slip, but then went with a lie. With my club at stake, the risk stretched too high to share, even with Sabina.
“She’s fucking a Villain.”
“Get the hell out!” Sabina laughed, but her smile quickly faded when she saw my expression. “Holy shit, you’re serious? Fuck, what are you going to do?”
“She’s using the guy to get to Dixon, or some shit.”
Damn. I said too much, but shit was eatin’ at me.
“Do you believe her?”
Venting without telling the entire truth got tricky. “Fuck I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it’s—”
“Stupid.”
“Yeah. Now, I gotta add protecting her to the shit I’m already dealin’ with.”
“What do the guys think?”
I grabbed the joint and took another hit, answering as I exhaled. “I haven’t told them yet.”
“You know you have to.”
“I can’t. Fuck.” I took another hit. “We have a rat.”
Her lips kissed my shoulder as she nestled in close on my side. “I see nothing’s changed much.”
“Yeah.”
“You should’ve called me. I would’ve come to you.” I sighed and leaned over her to put the joint in the ashtray. “What?” she asked, plainly sensing my effort to hide something.
“I have a kid there,” I admitted.
“You have a kid? Wow. That’s—”
“Not my kid.” I chuckled at the absurdity of my having a kid. “A girl. Her dad racked up a large debt. She’s working it off at the club.”
“And she needed to live with you do to that?”
The insinuation in her voice annoyed me. “Her dad’s a wicked drunk.”
“So, you rescued her?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” she said, raising her hand. “Been there.”
I ran a hand along her cheek and frowned. The night I met Sabina, I left a bar drunk as a skunk with Tank. Her boyfriend took to beating the shit out of her in the parking lot. I brought her home and Tank took care of the boyfriend. She stayed with me for a few weeks and I helped her get a place and a job. We grew close. Or as close to any woman I had ever been. She became special. Not old lady special, but I had a weakness for her. She also knew me too well to be conned, which I didn’t like.
“So, are you fucking this girl?” she asked.
“No! Hell no,” I shouted. “She’s thirteen.”
“Oh.”
“I want her to have a stable home, maybe make something out of her life. She’s bright, but she has no self-esteem and . . .”
“I got it.”
I again heard the suspicion in her tone, and then I felt the grin plastered to my face. “She’s a good kid.”
“If she’s a kid then your place should be okay.”
“It is. I came here because I was driving around lost.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
I shut the conversation down.
My visit to Sabina’s stemmed from frustration. I went there to fuck, not to talk so I shoved her back and thrust deep inside of her.
Sometimes we make adjustments for the wrong reasons. This is called avoidance. It is how we cope. If a situation seems insurmountable, it is easier to go around, leave it for another day. A problem does not simply go away. Still, until we run out of excuses, we will keep altering our lives and hope the situation resolves itself.