Push Comes To Shove Part 8

Kitchie crossed her fingers.

"h.e.l.lo, Sanders' residence." Suzette set a shopping bag of Gerber's baby food on the kitchen counter.

"You have a call from a correctional inst.i.tute. Caller, state your name after the tone."

Beep!

"Please don't hang up. I need help."

Junior sprang upright in bed. "Secret! Secret!"

"Shut up and go to sleep before you get us all in trouble," a biracial boy warned from one of the other beds jammed in the room.

"Secret!"

She came from the girls' sleeping quarters across the hall.

"What's the matter?" She squatted beside the bed.

"My stomach hurt. I gotta go to the bathroom."

"Then go."

He shook his head negatively. "It's too dark down the hall."

"Come on." She grabbed his hand.

He stepped in a pair of sneakers and pointed them in the direction of the bathroom.

Suzette dabbed her eyes with a Kleenex. "Kitchie, no one should have to go through that. I have so much empathy for your family, it breaks my heart. I wouldn't have done one thing different, you hear me?"

The phone beeped, warning that they were about to be disconnected.

"These phone calls are so short." Suzette wound the phone cord around her finger. "Call me back one more time."

Kitchie stole a furtive look at the clock. "It's nine-thirty; we've been talking back to back for an hour now. Maybe you should check on Junior and Secret for me."

"What are you two doing out of bed?" Mr. Reynolds cleared the stairs on his way to make hourly rounds on the second floor.

Secret faced him, still holding on to Junior's hand. "His stomach hurts."

"And what does that have to do with you being out of your room?"

"He's afraid of the dark so I'm taking him."

Junior hopped from one foot to the other as if he would p.i.s.s himself any second.

Mr. Reynolds looked at him, then shifted his gaze back to Secret. "Hurry up and get back in the bed." He watched them walk into the bathroom and close the door. Misbegotten b.a.s.t.a.r.ds Misbegotten b.a.s.t.a.r.ds.

Secret put her ear to the door. "What are you waiting on?"

Junior went into the cabinet under the sink and removed their clothes. He took his PJs off, dressed himself, then switched places with Secret while she dressed. When she took her PJs off, he could see the sore bruises scattered across her skin.

She eased the window up. "You first; I'm right behind you."

Junior hoisted himself through and landed on a porch roof. As promised, Secret was right behind him. She was thankful that the window was nowhere near as high as her bedroom window.

"I'll call you back in the morning...and I promise to reimburse you for the calls." Kitchie blocked out the collective ruckus from the day room.

"Don't you worry about that." Suzette began to unpack the grocery bag. "Think it's too late to call there?"

"It's never too late to check on children, Suzette."

The phone beeped again. Five seconds until disconnection.

"I'll come visit you tomorrow and tell you personally how the children are."

"Thank you, Suzette. Tell them I love them and that their father and I will be for them soon." Kitchie began to sprout tears.

"I will. I sure-" The phone went dead. "Will." She cleared the line and dialed 4-1-1.

Mr. Reynolds did his walk-through in the girls' room and was on his way to the boys' sleeping area when he was drawn to the light sneaking under the bathroom door. He started toward the light.

Junior jumped from the roof to a tree branch and climbed to the ground.

Mr. Reynolds grabbed the doork.n.o.b- "Mr. Reynolds." A part-time employee approached. "You have a Mrs. Sanders, Suzette Sanders, on line two. She says it's urgent."

He released the k.n.o.b. "I'll take it down the hall."

Secret lowered herself to the ground, looked up at the street light, and remembered how her mother felt about their being outside when the lights were on.

"Yes, they're fine children. Under the circ.u.mstances, I'm honored to have Secret and Junior here. They're well-mannered and polite." Mr. Reynolds clamped the cordless phone to his ear as he headed for the children.

"Are they adjusting well?" Suzette was taking notes.

"Yes, yes, they are. There is no need to worry yourself. In fact, I spoke with them no more than ten minutes ago. Secret is such the big sister, she was escorting Junior to the restroom. He's a little bothered by the dark."

"Yes, I know. So you wouldn't mind if I spoke with them for a minute?"

"Not at all, since they're awake." He opened the boys' room and took note that Junior's bunk was empty. "Hold on, Mrs. Sanders. They're still in the restroom." He went to the bathroom and opened the door.

The inner city's nocturnal life was operating at full throttle. Lurking in every dark alley, abandoned house, and unG.o.dly corner was much more than Secret and Junior were ready for.

"Secret, are you sure you're going the right way?"

"Hope so." She watched a squad car roll to a stop sixty yards ahead of them. "If we don't get off this street, we're gonna get in trouble."

"We're lost, aren't we?"

"We were lost when we left."

The squad car made a left turn and was now moving in their direction at a snail's pace. Its driver scanned the drug-infested area for misconduct.

Secret tugged on Junior's hand and led him up a driveway. "We can't let the cops catch us." She was moving faster now.

"Cops are supposed to help us."

"Taking us back to that place isn't helping." She opened the door to a Lincoln Mark LT parked in the driveway, and she and Junior climbed into the back seat. "Daddy said when you must win, everyone is a contender."

"I didn't know what he meant when he said it, and I still don't know now that you said it."

"Everybody is our enemy right now; especially the police."

"Oh."

The officer brought the car to a halt. He flashed his searchlight at the driveway and the Mark LT. After seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he continued his patrol of the area.

When the bright light vanished, Secret was relieved.

"We better keep moving. Euclid has to be close."

The driver's door was opened.

Mayor Brandon Chambers climbed in, then reached over and pushed the front pa.s.senger door open.

Secret put a hand across Junior's mouth.

A woman settled inside.

Secret could smell her Escada perfume-Kitchie's preferred fragrance.

The mayor backed out of the drive.

"Let me have a blast now." The woman unwrapped a crack pipe from a wad of toilet paper.

"Dammit, Shea, you know the routine. Do we have to go through the same s.h.i.t all the time? You suck my d.i.c.k, you get a hit. I f.u.c.k, you get a hit."

Junior's eyes widened.

Secret scowled at him and put a finger to her lips.

Shea shoved a piece of coat hanger in the end of the pipe. "I need a little something to wake me up and put me in the mood."

"You take care of your business first, then we can get high together. You did this to yourself. I give you a hit now and I can forget about my b.l.o.w. .j.o.b and some of that champion p.u.s.s.y."

"Brandon, baby, don't be like that." She scooted over, unzipped his pants, pulled his p.e.n.i.s out, and stroked it. "Betcha your wife can't make you feel like this." She buried her head in his lap and flicked her tongue against him.

Mayor Brandon took his wedding band off and dropped it in his breast pocket. "I can't fool around all night. I have a meeting in the morning with the city council." He caressed the back of her head.

Junior felt the car pick up speed as highway signs began to blow by. He wished that they had stayed at Mr. Reynolds's.

Shea kept her head dunked in the mayor's lap until she felt him tense.

"Why did you stop?" He put on the right turn signal. "Keep sucking. I was almost there."

"Give me a blast." She took out a lighter.

He exited the highway on East 72nd and parked at the Cleveland Munic.i.p.al Boat Dock. "Take your clothes off." He pulled his pants down to his ankles. "'Cause if I take a hit of this good s.h.i.t first, I ain't gonna want no p.u.s.s.y."

She slipped her hand beneath the miniskirt, eased the thong off, and tossed it in the back.

Secret's nostrils flared when the underwear got snagged on her ponytail.

"Let me see them t.i.tties." The mayor put a piece of crack on her pipe.

Junior smiled as he imagined a pair of b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Shea ignited the lighter. The mayor grabbed her hand. "Stop f.u.c.king around. Get naked. You know how I like it."

The skirt. The blouse. The bra. Everything found itself on the back seat. She stuck the flame to the pipe and sucked until the crack vanished.

Secret and Junior could hear something sizzle as a dim glow lit the interior.

Shea handed the mayor the pipe. She held the smoke and covered his p.e.n.i.s with her mouth again. She filled his lap with smoke as the cocaine escaped her nose.

While she swallowed his stiff organ, he balanced a rock on the pipe and smoked it.

"Give me some." She pushed and pulled his organ with a gentle touch.

He put his lips on hers and blew the smoke into her mouth.

Shea choked. "This some good s.h.i.t, Brandon."

"Tell me how good it is with your mouth. Kiss my d.i.c.k." He pushed a finger into the folds of her drenched v.a.g.i.n.a, then rubbed the moist finger on the gla.s.s pipe to cool it.

The mayor took another hit while Shea took him.

The car became filled with smoke.

Secret pinched her nose closed. Junior followed suit. This was the first time Secret wasn't angry with him for being a copycat.

"Let me hit this champion p.u.s.s.y while you hit this." He pulled her from his lap and gave her the pipe with a rock stuffed in it.

Shea smiled. She sat back and tried to recline the seat. Secret was too big to dodge the back seat in such a tight area. The seat began to smash her.

"Achoo! Achoo!" Junior couldn't hold it any longer. The cocaine smoke was too much.

"The h.e.l.l? What's going on?" The mayor looked at Shea; they looked over the seat and saw the frightened faces of Secret and Junior. The mayor d.a.m.n near brush-burned his a.s.s, pulling his pants up so fast.