Pricey, p.13
Pricey, page 13
“This one isn’t for you, God. This one is for the devil.”
A chill went through my body with the realization that I was leaving behind all that my mother had taught me. She always prayed, always believed that God would deliver her. When things were bad, she always spoke to the Man Upstairs and waited for a miracle. For me, in the middle of that room that night, I would forsake it all. Hope, fear, emotion, and God Himself would leave my heart and never find their way back in. There was no going back to la-la land. I knew the truth, and it wasn’t pretty. There was nothing or no one who would perform miracles. There was no God to save us and keep us from harm. We were in this alone, so we would have to conform and come face to face with the fact that this world wasn’t run by the gods. This dark underworld and even us, the depraved souls that roamed it all, belonged to the devil himself.
As Bellissima gargled on her own bodily fluid and clung to what little life she had left, she fought to reach the pen that sat on the desk beside her. With the pen in her hand and blood wetting the paper, she wrote her final words. I was too caught up in life leaving her body to care about what she was writing. Instead, I stood there calm and at ease.
Her life drained from her body while she was writing. I smiled as death approached and her eyes froze over with her last breath. Her head hung low. I looked at Carmine and told him to give me the phone. I didn’t call Capello, but texted him and told him that he should come to the house tonight. When he texted back asking why, I simply told him that “she” was dead. He didn’t ask any further questions.
“Carmine, can you bring Zen downstairs? I want to give her the birthday gifts we got her.”
He went to the bed and proceeded to wrap Zen’s body in the sheet that was on the bed.
“Don’t cover what’s left of her face,” I instructed.
I didn’t wait for an answer. I left the room and headed down the stairs. I sat on the marble floor in front of the front door and waited. When Carmine came down with Zen in his arms, he laid her on the floor in front of me. He went to the bags that were still at the door and brought them to me. First, I pulled out the teddy bear and showed it to her.
“See, Zen, I didn’t forget. Here is the bear you asked for. It’s almost as cute as you.”
Then I showed her all the cute little dresses I bought for her. They would have been perfect on her. I liked the pink one the best. I knew that it was her favorite color. Lastly, I pulled out the necklaces. Carmine was on the floor next to me and looked on as I pulled hers out first.
“I got this for you because you turned out to be the missing parts of us, Zen. You filled the empty spaces in our hearts with your cute little smile. The way you would run to us and squeeze us as if you really missed us always made us feel wanted. It didn’t matter if you were at your classes for just a few hours, or if you just went downstairs; you always came back and hugged us so hard that we always felt your love. We love you so much, Zen. We love you so much.”
Next I pulled out the box that belonged to Carmine. “This is for you,” I said, handing it to him.
He sat with the box in his hand as if he was afraid to open it. So I took it from him and opened it myself. I pulled out the necklace with the thick key and pulled him close so that I could place it around his neck.
“Without you, I am closed. You came into my life and became a savior from the moment I met you. You are the key to my existence. Without you, I am nothing, Carmine. I love you, do you hear me?”
Carmine hugged me as tears left his eyes. He told me he loved both me and Zen, and that he would always love us no matter what.
“This one is for me, Zen. Don’t you think it’s beautiful?” I asked as if she could hear me. “See, Carmine, it’s all a set. I have the heart, with the insides missing, and Zen is the heart with a little keyhole for you to open. Without one, the other just wouldn’t work. Now with Zen gone, her body won’t be with us, but our hearts will always be with her.”
It all made sense to me, and the jewelry symbolized what we all meant to each other. I would bury Zen with hers in the backyard, while Carmine’s and mine would never leave our necks. We sat with Zen and waited for Capello to arrive. We spent that time telling Zen how much we loved her, and how much she would be missed.
* * *
“What in the fuck?” were Capello’s first words as he walked through the front door. I wasn’t sure if that was because of the sight of me covered in blood, or Zen’s body being the first things to greet him.
“What happened, Billie? What happened to Zen?” DeeDee asked with tears in her eyes.
“She killed herself, so I killed Bellissima,” I stated without hesitation.
I watched as DeeDee’s eyes got big and she grabbed her chest.
“You fucking killed her? Shit, Billie, you are out of control. You can’t fucking kill everyone off in this organization. Do you have a killing problem or something? Are you crazy? Is there something I need to know about your mental stability?” Capello asked.
I sprang to my feet and began to laugh. “Am I crazy? You shouldn’t even have to ask. But since you want to know, I’ll answer. Hell fucking yes, I’m crazy.” I couldn’t believe that he would think that I could ever be normal after all that I had been through.
“Well, what am I going to do with you? You killed everyone in the Vega house. You sliced my partner’s face open, and now this. You can’t fucking kill everyone, Billie, you just can’t.”
I looked into Capello’s eyes and told him everything that happened in the house that night. I even told him that if Bellissima told me he had anything to do with what she did, I would have killed him, too. By the look on his face, he believed me.
“I had no idea that this would happen. Where is her body?” he asked.
When I told him where, he sent DeeDee upstairs to take a look.
“I told her that Zen was not to work. I made that very clear to her and I thought that she would be safe until you got back. I am very sorry.”
“But why would she do this? Did she hate me that much?” I asked, trying to come to terms with things.
“That’s just who Bellissima was. She did what she wanted and couldn’t stand being told what she couldn’t do. Honestly, I never thought that it would come to this,” Capello answered as DeeDee came back downstairs. “Is she dead?” he asked DeeDee.
“It’s just terrible up there. Yes, she’s gone but, Billie, I think this is for you.”
DeeDee held out a bloody piece of paper. I didn’t want to take it but she told me that she thought I should read it. When I took it from her hands, at first I held it without looking at it.
“You took her life, Billie. It’s only right you read what it says,” DeeDee added.
When I flipped the paper, the words on it hit me like a runaway train.
You are ready now.
Capello took the paper from me and read it himself.
“But she always called me not ready. Why would she write this?”
Capello sat back in his seat and got comfortable before he answered my question. “A few days before we left, I had a conversation with her. We spoke about the new girls we picked up and how they were doing, and then we spoke about you. When I asked her what she thought of you she said something very interesting to me. She said that when you first came here, she saw no traces of a real boss in you.”
“But something had to change her mind for her to leave this note,” I spat with anger.
“Let me finish,” Capello answered before continuing. “So, I asked her what she thought of you now. She thought for a while then told me that she had changed her mind. When I asked her why, she said it was in your eyes. She told me that the more she watched you, the more she saw darkness in you. She said that you were brave and that, sooner or later, you were going to take your position.”
“What did she mean by that?” Carmine asked.
“She meant that Billie wasn’t going to wait for Bellissima to hand her anything. Bellissima knew that this was going to happen. She told me that you would probably end up killing her, and that her death would be the only way she would truly know if you were the one to replace her. See, she killed the woman who ran this division before her and, now, you have killed her for it.”
Capello had things all wrong. “I did not kill her for her spot. I killed her because of Zen. Bellissima is the reason why Zen is dead,” I answered as I tried to prove my point.
Capello looked me dead in the eyes and opened them to the truth with just one simple question. “If that were the whole truth, why would you wait and kill her at the exact moment she told you that you were not ready? I know that you were upset about Zen but, you stopped Carmine from killing her over it. It wasn’t until she uttered those words that you decided to end her life.”
I wanted to convince myself that he didn’t know what he was talking about. I couldn’t answer him, so I sat quietly. His question would haunt me for the rest of my life, but you could only run from the truth for so long.
“Don’t worry about it, Billie. Things always happen exactly as they were meant to. You are a hunter, and a hunter kills its prey for several different reasons, and hunger is always at the top of the list. I’m sure Zen was one of them,” Capello said in a factual tone.
Still, I sat in silence. Some parts of me were angry at what he said, and the other parts were ashamed. Bellissima should have died for Zen and Zen only.
“Now, we have to get things in order. We will bury the bodies out back, call in the cleaners, and make a lot of calls. You wanted to be the boss, well, you have just paid the cost. Just make sure your account is full, Billie. This won’t be the last time you’ll suffer a loss.”
I looked at Capello and asked him how much money this all was going to cost me.
“No, Billie, not money, Money will never bring back Zen. The loss I speak of is your heart and soul. This shit here . . .” he said, speaking of the Pricey Pussy Empire. Capello threw his hand up and pointed directly at me as he continued. “This shit here is going to take all that you have inside. You need to make sure that the account that holds your soul is full; Carmine too. You two will need each other because you are stepping into hell, and the devil takes no prisoners. This is do or die and, as you can see, there will always be someone who is willing to kill just to take your place. Stay sharp, stay smart, and stay ready. This is your house now, so keep it tight. Welcome to your palace, Madam Blondie. You are home.”
I looked at Capello and only had one request. “You can bury Zen in the back, but I don’t want that rotten bitch here. Do what you want with her, just don’t leave her here. And if you think that when I get her age, you’ll bring a young girl in here to kill me too, just know that I’ll kill her first, even if it’s in her sleep. You say I killed for this position? Well, I am going to be in it until the day I die. If you thought anyone was the best before me, wait until you see how I run things. Remember, I am ready now.”
The End . . . of What Was
Wilted Flowers Emerge
Now That Destruction
Has Arrived
You have blossomed
Into what
Is Already Dead
Chapter 19
The Price of White Powder
I’m not quite sure why but while the men were burying Zen in the backyard, and removing Bellissima’s body from what was now my home, I headed to the old lady’s bedroom. It was unintentional. It was as if my feet led me there without a single thought from my brain, and I put up no fight.
In her room, I just sat there. Thoughts of Capello’s words rang loudly in my head. The need to be ready surpassed the grief of Zen’s death and that was why I killed Bellissima. That was a frightening thought, but face to face with this terrifying truth it was as if I was ready. I was ready to step into what I had become. Long gone was sweet little Billie. Now I was Madam Blondie and I would live as the walking dead.
Sitting on the bed, I tried my best to fight the inevitable. Telling myself that maybe it was all in my head, I tried to convince myself that somewhere within me she was still there. That little girl who sat at the Haitian airport, scared and in need of her mother’s warm arms around her, had to still be there. Her voice, soul, and everything about her were absent. I sat silently and listened, hoping that I would hear her distant cries. I waited to feel her heartbeat from within. I swear, I waited for what seemed like an eternity, but she was gone.
Enraged, I stood up and started to go through Bellissima’s things as if I was looking for answers. I searched for clues that would lead me to whom I was sure to become. It was as if I was possessed with the ghost she left behind. I felt it following me as I moved around the room. I opened drawers, looked under the bed, and went through her closets. I needed an answer as to why this demon was chasing me. I had become manic, riffling through her things with blind fury. When I found nothing, I sat on her bed out of breath.
For a moment, reality hit, and I realized how crazy I was acting. I was in search of nothing, but I needed to find something to feel at ease. I sat silently, waiting once again, and this time the ghost of the madam before me led me to the nightstand. I opened the little drawer at the bottom and just stared at what awaited me.
At first, it made me think of Mr. Vega. I had seen him with the white powder before. There were nights that he would come to me with a little Baggie full of cocaine. He would sniff it and ask me to try it. I thought about it, but the one time I stuck my finger in it and tasted it, it made my mouth numb, and that scared me. Time after time, Mr. Vega would try to get me to take a sniff, but I always turned him down. However, that night in Bellissima’s room, things would be different.
I picked up the black plate and admired the vast contrast the white substance held against it. I set it in my lap and, just as I had done the first night I had become acquainted with the drug, I stuck my finger in it and tasted it once more to make sure that it was in fact cocaine. Instantly, the numbing feeling made me smile. This was what I had been looking for. I needed something to make me emotionless. I didn’t want to feel or be aware.
I wasn’t sure how much I should be taking and, honestly, I didn’t even give it a second thought. Picking up the plate, I brought the powder up to my nose, and lowered my face until I felt the cocaine against it. I plunged in and inhaled. It burned like hell and caused me to cough. I didn’t know much about coke, but its harshness caused me to question its quality. Instantly, my heart started to race, and I was stuck. I wouldn’t be able to move even if I wanted to. Everything seemed clearer and every little sound was heard. While sitting there I kept asking myself, Is she there? Can I find her?
I waited for her and, surely, she appeared. I could see her, the younger me, still innocent, still full of hope and fear. That day came to me as a film, flashing deep-rooted memories before me as if I was in the audience.
The short walk from the Toussaint Louverture International Airport in Port-au-Prince to the plane seemed to last forever. My legs trembled as I approached the big flying object that I had never been on. I was so afraid, and the only thing I wanted was to have my mother beside me holding my hand. I could see her hands so vividly, darkened from the coal she sold and hardened by life. I had witnessed people avoid touching them, as if her hand was too dirty to brush against theirs. For me, they were the most comforting things about her, and I missed them just as much as I missed her. My mother’s presence always brought me comfort and the thought of not knowing when I would see her again scared me more than flying.
“Relax, Billie. Once we take off, I’m sure it will be a smooth ride,” Mr. Vega said as he rubbed my back.
“My God, what a beautiful daughter you have. She is absolutely stunning,” the woman in blue and white stated.
Mr. Vega smiled with pride. Before I could tell the woman who was checking our tickets that he was not my father, Mr. Vega answered her. “Thank you. She looks like my mother.”
I turned to the man’s wife, who didn’t look too pleased with her husband’s answer. Instead of being upset with him, she seemed to be mad at me as she rolled her eyes at me.
Once in our seats, I started to sweat. The space inside the plane felt as if it was closing in on me. Instantly, I changed my mind. I didn’t want to leave the island of Haiti anymore.
“Take me back. I don’t want to go. Please, sir, tell them to let me off,” I cried, speaking in my native Creole while a full-fledged panic attack set in. Beads of sweat were running down my face and stinging my eyes, causing them to leak even more. I tugged at the seat belt that strapped me in place as horror crept in.
“Billie, I want you to look at me. We cannot take you back, honey. Please, I want you to calm down before they bring the police on here.”
Even while living in poverty, my mother made sure that I took English lessons. Although it wasn’t my first language, I fully understood the word “police.” In my country of Haiti, there was one thing you never wanted to be involved with, and that was the law.
“Please, sir, no. I don’t want police,” I cried. I tried my best to control my breathing as the airplane door was pulled shut.
“Just give her a pill and shut her up,” Mr. Vega’s wife chimed in. She had changed from the nice lady with a beautiful, flowing dress to a mean bitch who seemed to hate me for no reason.
“No, no pill. I will be calm.”
Everything in me told me to scream and holler, but fear forced me to sit quietly. Sure my future looked bright, but it was that feeling deep down in my gut that told me to scream and demand they let me off that plane. But fate and destiny don’t work that way. What was meant to be, good or bad, would always be.
The plane ride was horrible. My ears hurt and felt as if they would explode. The very first taste of American food I had was yogurt, and I thought that the nice lady in the blue and white, who had complimented me before, was trying to poison me. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever put in my mouth.
It seemed like the longer we stayed in the sky, the more my ears hurt. I sat with tears rolling down my face while holding my ears.
