Going Broke Read online

  “My life”—It sounded like he was crying—“my life has been a downhill plunge since then.”

  “Savvy, I’m sorry.” I was crying now too. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Sarai, I couldn’t.” He barely got it out. “There is so much going on in my life, I had to just pack up and leave everything and everybody. I just needed time.”

  “I’m so sorry, Savvy,” I said. “Did you go to the funeral?”

  “No,” he said quickly.

  “What happened?”

  There was a long pause. “Somebody killed her.”

  I was in shock. “Jesus.”

  “Shot her dead.”

  I wish I had him in my arms. “Savvy, it’ll be all right.”

  “You don’t understand, Sarai.”

  “Understand what?”

  “It’s just like they killed me too.”

  “Why?”

  Why was he trippin’? He and Trina had broken up months after he moved to Texas, and he was in Houston for at least three years. To my knowledge, there wasn’t anything still going on between them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I had to move to get my mind together.” He sniffled. “I had to start a new life.”

  I didn’t understand what he meant, but I guessed he’d explain later. “I’m sorry. I wish you would’ve called me. We could’ve gone back home to the funeral together.”

  “Naw, I couldn’t go to the funeral. I just couldn’t go.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. “Have you talked to Daddy lately?”

  “I called him yesterday.”

  “Oh yeah? How is he?”

  “Terrible,” he said. “It’s so damn sad.”

  I wanted to cry again. “I hate it.”

  “What are we going to do?” he asked. “It pisses me off to talk to him.”

  We were feeling the same way. “Somewhere inside he still loves us.”

  He giggled. “Yeah, I can hear it in his voice sometimes. It’s like the old him wants to scream my name, but his mind is too confused to do it. He’s in there; I just wish I was lucky enough to talk to who he used to be for at least a minute again.”

  “Me too.”

  Over the next hour, Savion and I melted into being two happy people again. When he learned of my trip to the Bahamas, he told me to be like Stella and “get my groove back.” With him not working, I knew that I would have to keep pulling the weight of Daddy’s nursing home cost. I saw the signs. I was going to be struggling for a while. I told him to use his big mouth to spread the word out about my sites.

  “Bye, Savvy.”

  “See ya, sexy,” he said.

  “It’s midnight.” I hoped that no one could tell that I was crying. “Is your lover next to you?” For the first time, I hated my opening line. “If they’re not, then Sarah is here to give you a little something to hold on to.” All I was holding was the microphone. “I’m here to give you something that you can feel.” All I felt was pain. “Let me ease your troubled mind.” Who was going to ease mine? The first song in my set was Leanne Rimes’ “How Do I Live Without You.” I played it especially for me, but I was hoping that no one knew.

  Around three in the morning, my cell phone rang. It was Damian. I didn’t know if I should throw the phone, turn it off, or answer it. Tommy, the segment producer, was in the bathroom, so I flipped some switches to play one more song rather than me having a talk spot after the Reba McIntire song was over.

  I took off my headset and grabbed my phone. “Hello?”

  “Are you purposely trying to piss me off?” he asked.

  I decided to be a smart-ass. “Good morning to you too.”

  “Good morning, Miss Emery,” he said. “How is your mouth?”

  “Fuck you.” I wasn’t afraid of him over the phone. “What do you want?” I went on, “Oh, I know what you want—How could I forget?—You wanna fuck my friends.”

  “I have no time for your drama,” he said. “Why didn’t you show up at the bank?”

  “You never called.”

  He spoke as though nothing was wrong. “I called the apartment all day.”

  I remembered that I had the ringer off. “Well, I didn’t know.”

  “You knew. You were probably hoping that I would show up and make you suck my dick again.”

  “You know what, Damian?—You’re a real sick muthafucka.” I stood up. “You are an exact replica of the man you’ve hated since you were a boy.” I wasn’t regretting anything I said. “You are your father, holding a gun to my head and doing what you did to me. I guess you think that made you a man, but that just made you a fuckin’ rapist. Next you’ll be killing somebody, and then what?” I felt empowered. “You’ll be somebody’s bitch in prison, just like your sorry-ass daddy.”

  “That’ll be a hell of a lot better than being like yours—At least my pops knows my damn name.”

  After two years of pretending that he cared about my father’s condition, the truth was finally out. “Fuck you,” I blared. “You are a sorry-ass excuse of a man, Damian.”

  “I was your sorry-ass excuse of a man for two years, though, so shut the fuck up. All I want is my money.”

  “You’re gonna get what’s coming to you.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” He repeated, “All I want is my money.”

  “You’re going to regret fuckin’ with me,” I cried. “You’ll pay for this, you and India. You’ll both burn in hell.”

  “You’re probably right.” He pretended to yawn. “All I want is my money.”

  “Fuck you, Damian.”

  “Meet me at the bank at noon,” he said nonchalantly.

  “You’re an evil muthafucka. You don’t deserve anything,” I said. “You don’t deserve to breathe. One day you’ll be so sorry for doing this to me. Just watch and see.”

  He laughed loudly. “What, are you putting a curse on me like that Esther lady did to your home-wrecking mother?” He continued, “That’s what she got. She is the one who didn’t deserve to breathe, and oops—she’s not. If you wanna be a witch, don’t take lessons from Esther, because her weak-ass spell obviously wasn’t enough since you and your sissy fuckin’ brother are still alive.”

  I was speechless, but I guessed this was what I got for telling him too much of my family’s business. My newfound strength was a thing of the past.

  “Just meet me at the bank at noon, Sarai.”

  “You can have your money, Damian, and it’s the last thing you’ll ever get from me. After tomorrow, I don’t want to see your damn face again. Do you hear me? Fuck you and the fuckin’ pit bull you rode in on.”

  “Fuck you too,” he said peacefully, almost in the same tone he used to say he loved me. “Fuck . . . you . . . too.”

  I was screaming like a lunatic. “You’re a fuckin’ lunatic,” I cried. “I hate you.”

  Tommy ran into the booth with a look on his face like he had just heard that there was a bomb in the building. He didn’t say a word. He just pointed upward, and when my eyes followed his fingertip, my mouth dropped open, and the cellular phone fell from my hands. I had been on the air. Whoever was tuned in to BIG COUNTRY got an earful. My stomach balled up into a knot the size of Tommy’s fingertip.

  Within ten minutes, Mr. Motes was on the phone demanding not only an explanation, but also that I stay at the station until he arrived at 9:00.

  I drank a lot of coffee, got a bunch of evil looks from the morning crew, and boxed up my belongings. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what was coming. I had to work three times harder than the others just to earn my place in the country radio industry, but I knew that all I had to do was make one mistake for all of my work not to mean a thing. I had given them exactly what they wanted—a valid reason to send me packing.

  Richard “Country Ass” Motes walked into his office at quarter to ten. “Well, Sarah,” he said almost with a smile, “I listened to the tapes three or four times, and each time it sounds a little worse.”
He sat down behind his desk and shook his head from side to side. “We’re going to have to suspend you.”

  “For how long?”

  “Well, when you come to pick up your next check, you’ll know something definite.”

  Lord, please don’t let my ghetto spirit show. “I’m not coming in here to pick up my check and learn that I no longer have a job.”

  “Well, I really can’t say anything until then, Sarah.”

  “Of course you can say something.” I was still suppressing the chiquita within. “I’ve worked here long enough to know that when folks are suspended that just means they’re really fired, but given a chance to cool off. I don’t need two weeks to think.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You don’t have to worry about me coming back to shoot you. If I was going to do that, I’d have done it by now.”

  “No one said anything about anybody shooting,” he said nervously. “When you pick up your next check, we’ll talk.”

  “No, let’s talk now.” My neck started to roll. Oh no. Here she comes, y’all. “I have direct deposit, so you tell me what you have to say right now. I don’t need to come back to be told not to come back again.”

  He looked shocked.

  “I already know the deal, so let’s get down to business and talk severance.”

  Within an hour, I was no longer an employee of WBIG and would be receiving a $5,000 severance package. The money would give me two months’ rent and two more months of Daddy’s continued medical assistance. So basically I had two months to find a job somewhere before I was evicted, and Daddy was denied further care.

  I didn’t hug anyone on the way out. I opened Mr. Mote’s door, put on my shades, jumped into my SUV, then drove to the parking lot of Rockwell Mutual and waited until I saw Damian’s H2 pull up. I had just lost my job because of him, and I realized that I would probably be losing my truck and other things as well. I didn’t wait for him. I just walked into the bank.

  Two minutes later he was by my side.

  I hated him enough to make a scene, but he wasn’t worth it. Under my breath I said, “Don’t say any fuckin’ thing to me.”

  He looked at his watch. It was two minutes to twelve. “Good morning to you as well.”

  “After we leave here, let this be the last time I see you.” I still hadn’t looked at him.

  “I still have stuff at the apartment,” he said.

  “Your things are by the door. The locks are being changed as we speak, so don’t come up without a security guard.”

  I signed my name so that we could see one of the bank representatives. He sat down first. I selected a seat that faced his, but was two people down. One would assume we were complete strangers.

  From a distance you’d think that Damian was an upstanding guy. Sitting there in a suit and tie, he was looking as good as he could look. He almost seemed like an honest, hardworking family man, but evil comes in all shapes and sizes.

  When we finished our transaction, the money was transferred from my account to one in his name. I signed the necessary paperwork and left the desk, without saying another word to the devil or the banker.

  I walked through the door of my apartment and finally realized how much I had lost. I was without a man, a friend, a job, money, and my mind, all in just three days. There wasn’t much else that I could lose. In the comfort of my own hiding place, I did what I wanted to do all day but was too much of a woman for Tommy, Mr. Motes, Damian or the banker to see—I cried. Mr. Velázquez, the handyman, came and changed the locks. I wished he could’ve done the same thing to my heart. I couldn’t afford to have any intruders inside, messing things up more than they already were.

  The only time I answered my house or cellular phone was when Nat or Savion called. Every other call went straight to my voicemail, which I vowed not to check until I returned from the Bahamas. I didn’t want to hear what anyone had to say about what they heard on the air, or what they heard someone else say about what they heard.

  I kept my hair appointment at Bob & Weave on Thursday afternoon. I didn’t dare say too much in that place; it was gossip headquarters. Although the sign on the door read Nothing goes back outside except you, I didn’t buy it. Not only Bob, but all those nosy heifers bought, sold, and traded secrets. I’ve heard them—“You tell me about Latrice’s man, and I’ll tell you who Mimi is pregnant from.” Hell no. If they didn’t already know my business, they weren’t going to hear it from me. I kept my head buried in an Essence magazine the entire time.

  I treated myself to a $300 weave job, a manicure and pedicure, a facial, and five new outfits. I returned home a little after 9:00 and enjoyed a warm shower. I couldn’t wait until 1:12 the following afternoon when I’d be on my way to a week away from my “American problems.” I finalized my packing and called Nat a little before midnight, promising her that I’d have fun, be free, and return rested.

  As my head touched the pillow, the phone rang. “Hey, sexy,” I answered, thinking it was Savion returning my call.

  “Damn, what a greeting,” Damian said. “Open the door. I’m outside.”

  “Outside?” I sat up in bed.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’m glad to know that you’re happy to hear from me.”

  “I thought you were someone else, actually. I’m not opening the door, unless you have a police officer or the security guard from downstairs with you.”

  “Are you serious, Sarai? I’m just here to get my stuff.”

  I was scared. “I don’t trust you.” I jumped out of bed to make sure the latches were on. I looked out of the peephole, and there he was. “I don’t want you in here unless you have the security guard.”

  “Come on, I just need my stuff, Sarai. I don’t want any drama.”

  “Hold on.” I ran back to my bedroom, grabbed my cellular, and called the security office. “I need one of you up to eleven twenty-seven right away.” I went back to the door. “I don’t want any problems, Damian.” I tried to stall.

  “I promise you.” He sounded like the man I used to know.

  I sighed. “Damian, don’t fuck with me.”

  “Sarai, I’m only here for my stuff. There are things from my office that I need.”

  I thought for a minute before I unlatched the locks and opened the door.

  He stepped in and offered me his hand. I didn’t take it. I just opened the door wide enough for him to walk in, and didn’t close it all the way.

  “This is all your stuff.” I pointed at the boxes and bags stacked neatly in the corner.

  “Damn.” He smiled as he saw his things then looked at me. “I fucked up, huh?”

  I couldn’t say anything. This man was a totally new creature from the one I had been dealing with the past few days. He was insane. One could say that he was sampling the very goods he had young boys hustling for him.

  “I’m sorry, Sarai.” He took a quick step toward me, and I flinched. He hung his head. “I didn’t mean to do all those things to you that night.” He grabbed my hand. “I’m so sorry.” He kissed my hand, and I was close to begging him to stop all the talking. “I love you. Will you forgive me?”

  I stared at him. The eyes that used to stare me down and undress me, the lips that heated my nights from head to toe, the ears that listened to my problems, the shoulders that held me up when I couldn’t stand. “You’re sleeping with my friend, Damian,” I said in a whisper. “You can’t love me.”

  “Sarai, this has nothing to do with not loving you.”

  I still couldn’t believe this. “What does it have to do with then?”

  “You won’t understand.” He continued to hold my hand. “Just know that I still love you.”

  “The fact that you can’t even explain why you did it makes it even worse.” I snatched my hand away.

  “Don’t do this.” He placed my hand back in his. “I don’t care about India.”

  I was in disbelief. “Obviously, you don’t care about me either.”

  “I’m sorry, baby.” He
added, “I had my reasons.”

  “I bet you did,” I said. “And I hope that they were worth it.”

  “Please forgive me, Sarai.”

  “Is everything all right in here?” The security guard pushed the door and walked in. “Everything okay?”

  Damian looked at me. “Everything is fine.”

  The man turned to me. “Is everything all right, ma’am?”

  “No.” My words hurt my soul. “He needs help taking his things downstairs.”

  Damian dropped my hand.

  “Not a problem,” the guard said. “Are you ready?”

  He was still staring at me. “I guess so.”

  I couldn’t sway, falter, or lean. I wasn’t falling back into the trap. For whatever reason, this man was cheating on me, and I did nothing to deserve that. I looked at the guard. “Can you guys put everything in the hall and take it from there?” I smiled. “I was already in bed.”

  “No problem at all,” the guard said and pointed. “Let’s start with these things first.”

  “Sarai.” Damian turned to me. “Why are you doing this?”

  “For the same reasons you did what you did,” I said. “I’m tired of you.”

  He actually looked sad. “Damn. So, I’m really out?”

  “Where have you been these last couple of fuckin’ days? I caught you screwing my friend, you’ve drained my bank account dry, and called me everything but a child of God,” I cried. “Yes, you’re really out.”

  I looked at the guard. “You might want to take his access pass. He doesn’t live here anymore, and if he ever makes it to this door again, I’ll see that you’ll be looking for work just as I am.”

  I looked back over at Damian. “That’s right. Because of you, I’m on the unemployment line now. Our conversation was broadcast live on the air the other night, so I have nothing.” I faked a smile. “Nothing, including your sorry black ass.” I grabbed a bag full of clothing and threw it in the hallway. “Get your ass out of my face.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and watched them drag things into the hallway for the next five minutes, then I slammed the door and locked it behind me.