Nic Tracye
Chapter One
Cherry
I never was a daddy’s little girl. My daddy was absolutely too damn mean. I used to be scared as shit when he was at home. It was like walking around the house on pins and needles. You’d never know if the night was going to end peacefully or not. I’m an only child, and as a result, whenever my father got tired of whipping on my mama’s ass, he’d take his anger out on me. I was so proud of my mother when she got fed up and finally kicked him out of the house for good. For some reason, I knew my mother was done with him that last time.
She was having a card party this particular night, and there were about twenty of her so-called friends at our house. I think I was about nine years old, give or take a year. I sat on the edge of my bed watching Fresh Prince. I muted the sound when I heard my daddy’s truck pull into the driveway.
God please no, I silently prayed, while getting up to go look out the window. No such luck. It was him, and he was drunk as a skunk. Something was definitely gonna go down because it never failed when he came home drunk. My daddy is straight up rude, disrespectful, conniving, and selfish. And, he’s a bully. There are a few more negative adjectives I could use to describe him, but I’m sure you get the picture. There’s not any good in him. Not nothing I could think of anyway.
Although the crowd was large, I didn’t hear any voices coming through the heat vents or the thin hardwood floors, until he came in the house talking loud as hell.
“Get up and go make me a plate,” he told Mama, who was in the middle of playing a card game of deuces.
Not looking at him, she put her left index finger up. “Okay, wait onnnnnne minute.,” she requested, while reaching for her winning card.
Even I knew it was the wrong thing for her to say. I stood terrified at the top of the stairs, hiding behind the wall. Nobody saw me nor was anybody checking for me anyway. Daddy snatched my mama up by her ponytail weave. “Get yo’ ass up now! Don’t tell me to wait! Bitch, when I say jump, you ask how high.”
At this point, he had everybody’s full attention, which is what he wanted all along. He wanted them to see how he humiliated and degraded my mama. “Get yo’ ass in there,” he shouted, as he pulled her in the kitchen by her ponytail.
My mother was smart-mouthed. She knew she’d get her ass kicked but she couldn’t keep quiet. “Dang, man, it was only gonna take a few more seconds before the game was over. You could’a waited.”
What did she say that for?
Knowing what was coming next, I covered my face, eventhough they were out of my eyesight.
“It looks like I’m gonna have to wait now, you stupid bitch!” my daddy yelled, and then I heard Mama wail as he socked her in the jaw, making her fall to the ground.
Everybody just stood and watched as my daddy whipped my mama’s ass, embarrassing her until he got tired. He smacked her and dragged her around the house, preaching to her the whole time, “What-did-I-tell- you, hard-headed-bitch? You-never-learn.”
The party continued for a couple more hours after my daddy showed off. Well, at least it did for him. After my mother fed him, she took care of herself. After that, she came to my bedroom to check on me like she always did after one of his episodes. Sometimes she had to wait until he went to sleep because he would forbid her to come to me. “She ain’t yo’ baby. I am,” he would tell her.
My mother had been sleeping in her bedroom for almost an hour, while the party was still going on. I had to pee real badly, but somebody was in the upstairs bathroom, which was unusual considering it was off limits to guests. It wasn’t my mother because she was sleeping, and it wasn’t my daddy because as loud as he is I would have heard him come up the stairs. When I knocked on the bathroom door a familiar female voice answered, “I’ll be out in a minute.” Then, after a little hushing and whispering, the person said, “Um, on second thought, you should go downstairs. I’ma be a minute.”
“I can’t. My daddy gonna get me.,” I replied back.
With my ear glued to the door, I heard giggling and shushing going on inside, but I couldn’t make out who the other person was. Whoever it was, was sitting down on the toilet. She was standing up because I could see their shoes through the crack at the bottom of the door.
“No, he ain’t. I’ma tell yo’ daddy I told you to go downstairs as soon as I get out of here. Now go ‘head and use the bathroom before you pee on yourself,” she ordered.
I wasn’t about to get my tail whipped for her. So, I trotted right into Mama’s bedroom and woke her up.
“Ma, Miss Powell won’t let me use the bathroom.”
Thinking she was dreaming, she asked, “Who? What, girl?”
I repeated what I had said, and the next thing I knew, Mama was standing at the bathroom door pounding on it.
“Renée, what the hell you do’in up here in my bathroom?” When Renée didn’t respond,my mama pounded harder. “You betta open this damn door right now, ‘cause I’ma kick yo’ ass if I finish this sentence and this damn door is still closed! You hear me dammit?” Mother yelled in one breath.
Still, no sound came from the bathroom.
My mother grew angrier by the second. The angrier she got the louder she knocked, the harder she kicked, and the more vocal she became. I stood right at her side waiting, and it didn’t take long before everybody else came upstairs. They even tried to get Renée to open up, but she didn’t budge. It wasn’t until somebody suggested calling for an ambulance, because Renée may have overdosed since she was known for pill popping, that the door finally opened.
“What the fuck y’all do’in? Everybody get the fuck out!” My daddy shouted when he stepped out of hiding.
He sized my mother and me up with a look of disgust as he walked away from us holding Miss Powell's hand. He then went downstairs and cleared the house out. “All you muthfuckas, get the fuck out! This party is ova.!”
My mother cried and held on to me for dear life. Through tears, she promised me it was over with her and my daddy. She said those were tears of joy coming down her face. She must have found some humor in the situation too, because she snickered from time to time. I don’t know how long she held on to me while we cried, but the top of my head was soaked when she finally let me go.
She motioned for me to get down on my knees with her while she prayed, and then she said, “I should’ve been done what I’m about to do a long time ago. Thank you Lord for my strength and for answering my prayers.”
For the first time, she called the police and had him arrested for domestic abuse. The restraining order was served ASAP and mama followed e trial ththrough to the end. After it was all said and done, he only served three months.
Mama didn’t accept any of his collect calls from jail and she tore up every letter he sent. Once released, he called and begged for her forgiveness damn near everyday. Each time after she hung up from talking to him she assured me that I had nothing to worry about because he wasn’t coming back. “Ever!” she testified.
In retaliation, he threatened to hurt me but my mother was
confident he wouldn’t. She said she wasn’t afraid of my daddy
anymore because she had put it all in the Lord’s hands.
Eventually, he got the message and stopped harassing us. After
all, she had been dating my stepfather who had moved us into his
home. Soon they married. Needless to say, my step-daddy was
my father. My daddy kept spreading his seeds around town,
getting drunk, beating on women and running back and forth
to jail for petty crimes. Although estranged, I run into him
maybe once or twice a year. Last I heard, I have about twelve
siblings, but I’ve only met three of them.
Cherry
I never was a daddy’s little girl. My daddy was absolutely too damn mean. I used to be scared as shit when he was at home. It was like walking around the house on pins and needles. You’d never know if the night was going to end peacefully or not. I’m an only child, and as a result, whenever my father got tired of whipping on my mama’s ass, he’d take his anger out on me. I was so proud of my mother when she got fed up and finally kicked him out of the house for good. For some reason, I knew my mother was done with him that last time.
She was having a card party this particular night, and there were about twenty of her so-called friends at our house. I think I was about nine years old, give or take a year. I sat on the edge of my bed watching Fresh Prince. I muted the sound when I heard my daddy’s truck pull into the driveway.
God please no, I silently prayed, while getting up to go look out the window. No such luck. It was him, and he was drunk as a skunk. Something was definitely gonna go down because it never failed when he came home drunk. My daddy is straight up rude, disrespectful, conniving, and selfish. And, he’s a bully. There are a few more negative adjectives I could use to describe him, but I’m sure you get the picture. There’s not any good in him. Not nothing I could think of anyway.
Although the crowd was large, I didn’t hear any voices coming through the heat vents or the thin hardwood floors, until he came in the house talking loud as hell.
“Get up and go make me a plate,” he told Mama, who was in the middle of playing a card game of deuces.
Not looking at him, she put her left index finger up. “Okay, wait onnnnnne minute.,” she requested, while reaching for her winning card.
Even I knew it was the wrong thing for her to say. I stood terrified at the top of the stairs, hiding behind the wall. Nobody saw me nor was anybody checking for me anyway. Daddy snatched my mama up by her ponytail weave. “Get yo’ ass up now! Don’t tell me to wait! Bitch, when I say jump, you ask how high.”
At this point, he had everybody’s full attention, which is what he wanted all along. He wanted them to see how he humiliated and degraded my mama. “Get yo’ ass in there,” he shouted, as he pulled her in the kitchen by her ponytail.
My mother was smart-mouthed. She knew she’d get her ass kicked but she couldn’t keep quiet. “Dang, man, it was only gonna take a few more seconds before the game was over. You could’a waited.”
What did she say that for?
Knowing what was coming next, I covered my face, eventhough they were out of my eyesight.
“It looks like I’m gonna have to wait now, you stupid bitch!” my daddy yelled, and then I heard Mama wail as he socked her in the jaw, making her fall to the ground.
Everybody just stood and watched as my daddy whipped my mama’s ass, embarrassing her until he got tired. He smacked her and dragged her around the house, preaching to her the whole time, “What-did-I-tell- you, hard-headed-bitch? You-never-learn.”
The party continued for a couple more hours after my daddy showed off. Well, at least it did for him. After my mother fed him, she took care of herself. After that, she came to my bedroom to check on me like she always did after one of his episodes. Sometimes she had to wait until he went to sleep because he would forbid her to come to me. “She ain’t yo’ baby. I am,” he would tell her.
My mother had been sleeping in her bedroom for almost an hour, while the party was still going on. I had to pee real badly, but somebody was in the upstairs bathroom, which was unusual considering it was off limits to guests. It wasn’t my mother because she was sleeping, and it wasn’t my daddy because as loud as he is I would have heard him come up the stairs. When I knocked on the bathroom door a familiar female voice answered, “I’ll be out in a minute.” Then, after a little hushing and whispering, the person said, “Um, on second thought, you should go downstairs. I’ma be a minute.”
“I can’t. My daddy gonna get me.,” I replied back.
With my ear glued to the door, I heard giggling and shushing going on inside, but I couldn’t make out who the other person was. Whoever it was, was sitting down on the toilet. She was standing up because I could see their shoes through the crack at the bottom of the door.
“No, he ain’t. I’ma tell yo’ daddy I told you to go downstairs as soon as I get out of here. Now go ‘head and use the bathroom before you pee on yourself,” she ordered.
I wasn’t about to get my tail whipped for her. So, I trotted right into Mama’s bedroom and woke her up.
“Ma, Miss Powell won’t let me use the bathroom.”
Thinking she was dreaming, she asked, “Who? What, girl?”
I repeated what I had said, and the next thing I knew, Mama was standing at the bathroom door pounding on it.
“Renée, what the hell you do’in up here in my bathroom?” When Renée didn’t respond,my mama pounded harder. “You betta open this damn door right now, ‘cause I’ma kick yo’ ass if I finish this sentence and this damn door is still closed! You hear me dammit?” Mother yelled in one breath.
Still, no sound came from the bathroom.
My mother grew angrier by the second. The angrier she got the louder she knocked, the harder she kicked, and the more vocal she became. I stood right at her side waiting, and it didn’t take long before everybody else came upstairs. They even tried to get Renée to open up, but she didn’t budge. It wasn’t until somebody suggested calling for an ambulance, because Renée may have overdosed since she was known for pill popping, that the door finally opened.
“What the fuck y’all do’in? Everybody get the fuck out!” My daddy shouted when he stepped out of hiding.
He sized my mother and me up with a look of disgust as he walked away from us holding Miss Powell's hand. He then went downstairs and cleared the house out. “All you muthfuckas, get the fuck out! This party is ova.!”
My mother cried and held on to me for dear life. Through tears, she promised me it was over with her and my daddy. She said those were tears of joy coming down her face. She must have found some humor in the situation too, because she snickered from time to time. I don’t know how long she held on to me while we cried, but the top of my head was soaked when she finally let me go.
She motioned for me to get down on my knees with her while she prayed, and then she said, “I should’ve been done what I’m about to do a long time ago. Thank you Lord for my strength and for answering my prayers.”
For the first time, she called the police and had him arrested for domestic abuse. The restraining order was served ASAP and mama followed e trial ththrough to the end. After it was all said and done, he only served three months.
Mama didn’t accept any of his collect calls from jail and she tore up every letter he sent. Once released, he called and begged for her forgiveness damn near everyday. Each time after she hung up from talking to him she assured me that I had nothing to worry about because he wasn’t coming back. “Ever!” she testified.
In retaliation, he threatened to hurt me but my mother was
confident he wouldn’t. She said she wasn’t afraid of my daddy
anymore because she had put it all in the Lord’s hands.
Eventually, he got the message and stopped harassing us. After
all, she had been dating my stepfather who had moved us into his
home. Soon they married. Needless to say, my step-daddy was
my father. My daddy kept spreading his seeds around town,
getting drunk, beating on women and running back and forth
to jail for petty crimes. Although estranged, I run into him
maybe once or twice a year. Last I heard, I have about twelve
siblings, but I’ve only met three of them.
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