Hope, Charity & Faith Ch. 10

* All characters in this story are of legal age. *

FOREWORD:

Before I close out this story of one eighteen year old's trial & tribulations signified by three very different women with one foot in and out of the mean streets, responsible writing must rear its ugly head.

Leroy "JON JON" Jenkins was found murdered in the 82nd block of Gramercy street. Cause of death was two close quarter gunshot blasts to the head that instantly took his life. The authorities have ruled this nigga's death "Gang Related" and the resultant case is destined to go cold after a month and a half of substandard investigation. Father of five known children and a few unsubstantiated, none of his family members have pursued justice. Dually noted is the late Mr. Jenkin's extensive criminal record which consists of petty theft, robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, suspected manslaughter and several uncorroborated sexual assaults including a nephew and the daughter of his last girlfriend, Charmaine Adalyn Belle. The girl's mother Anita Ada Mae Belle has not been questioned at the time of his incident.

Three days prior to the murder of Mr. Jenkins, Ms. Belle turned in her resignation from her custodial job at county general hospital citing the need for a change of scenery for herself and her troubled eighteen year old daughter, Charmaine. Close friends of the Belle family consisting of the two women have related that Anita discovered her daughter deathly ill on the second day of the week in which the crime occurred. After a brief terse discussion with her daughter, Anita realized her daughter was pregnant. Everything unfortunately started to come together in her mind that same night as she was bent over taking backshots from Leroy when the violent alcoholic drunkenly called out her daughter's name as he waxed her own considerable fifty-four inch backside. The following day at approximately 9AM, a call was made to relatives with a history of "dirty hands".

Three hours outside of the city, Anita pulled into a Denny's restaurant under the pretense of getting something to eat with her daughter, dragging her into the bathroom where eighteen year old Charmaine was threatened with physical violence. Ms. Belle believed her daughter pregnant from an affair with the recently departed Mr. Jenkins. Under extreme duress, Charmaine revealed that she'd been trying to avoid her mother's paramour since he'd moved in with them. Just under six months prior, she'd had a pillow shoved down onto her head in forced horseplay that ended with her lost virginity on all fours nearly suffocated in the couch cushions. Mr. Jenkins continued advances escalating with every episode leading up to his murder. Charmaine also confessed to her mother, the numerous boys she'd been sleeping with to lessen and dull her horrific experiences.

Mother and daughter left the restaurant with their bond reforged, both aware of the sacrifice made to liberate the girl from a monster. Charmaine did mention the boy she'd liked since her early years of high school fondly, admitting that she'd lied shortly after they were finally together. She'd told him that one of the boys on the basketball team had deflowered her, but that lie was undone by Leroy's sudden appearance. Upon getting his description, the elder Ms. Belle vaguely recalled some kid standing near the alley outside her home. She considered calling up those two older "criminally minded" cousins to clean up but relented out of love for her only child. They were leaving for greener pastures in her home state of Mississippi.

Surprisingly, Charmaine ended up carrying the baby to term as both women decided to raise the little boy, Zaire Belle with the story of his deceased father being absentee. Ms. Belle found work in a local hospital cafeteria while Charmaine completed school by getting a G.E.D later finding work as a receptionist for a black owned construction company where she would meet her future husband, one Jesse Lee Smits, ten years her senior. Two more kids after a conventional romance and a large house built especially for her, Charmaine Smits found a happy ending she'd been looking for all her life.

-Now that I've got that out of the way...

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HOPE, CHARITY & FAITH-THE CONCLUSION PART ONE

"Jaleel?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Stop moping, get your ass out of that bed and mow the lawn." Truthfully, I had been sort of crestfallen for an extended period of time since the incident with Charmaine and its subsequent conclusion.

I took that murder as divine intervention but was still disturbed by it. There was no way I was talking about it with my mother or any of my older relatives who would've instantly dimed me out. She never returned to school after that day and I felt responsible. The only people who might have known what happened in intimate detail beyond myself were Kimberly Bivens and the human jackal, Treena. There was no way either of them were talking with me. Kimberly even renewed hostilities with me on the low, but wisely stayed out of my phone.

Earlier in the week she'd finally mustered the courage to administer a light slap to my cheek as she went to her seat prompting Mr. Harvey to immediately dispatch her to study hall detention followed by Treena for laughing wildly. It was heartening to find that my slight teacher finally discovered the means to retake his classroom from its teen dissidents. Kimberly ended up dating another member of the baseball team, initially in a bid to make her estranged ex-boyfriend jealous but he wasn't biting.

Her new beau Gerow was hip to her womanly wiles using the opportunity presented to judiciously rail the stuffing out of her apple bottom with no fucks given. There was no way she was dumping him so close to prom, and Gerow knew it. So my serpentine ex-whatever knew the order of the day was face down, ass way way fucking up in the air. He wasn't shy above sharing pics of her panty clad butt with his teammates either which earned Kimberly a finger wagging sermon from her former about promiscuity. I laughed my ass off that day, much to her chagrin due to the two classes we shared.

I usually got in trouble for dragging my feet when it came to cleaning the yard and clipping our considerable hedges, but this Saturday afternoon I welcomed the change in routine. I wanted it to be a distraction from current events but couldn't fully divert my thoughts. I took consolation in the fact that I got a smile on my face whenever I thought of Kimberly Bivens, but that inevitably brought my thoughts to Charmaine Belle. It got me to wondering what could've been if she'd made herself known back in the day instead of me ending up with a toxic narcissist. Charmaine's extreme emotion left me with the mindset that all was better left unsaid in the long run. I imagined that she might've been a smothering presence in my life not discounting her physical propensity for explosive violence.

This brought my thoughts to Hope Arias who'd been the catalyst for my immediate turn of fortune sexually and unintentionally everywhere else. Her childish beauty and lush, packed curves would've sent me reeling if not for the daily drama which she intentionally took part in, albeit on a remote level. There was the thought that I should be angry with her for trolling Kimberly to assuage her own issues with the professor she'd engaged in a one sided affair. Hope took me with unbridled passion and desperate lust wanting to bury herself in my situation. That day and following night was one for the ages, but not without cost at the expense of my friendship with my best friend, Ricky Arias. After I'd been hospitalized, Hope confessed the tryst to her brother who promptly unfriended and blocked me on all access points, social media and otherwise.

"Fucking coward."

My brow furrowed at the thought of the argument I'd been gypped out of while lying unconscious in my hospital bed. I still had a court date coming up with Jay Stello. Some lawyers were calling my mom, but I didn't know anything beyond that.

I'd tried calling Hope up a number of times only to find out that I'd been similarly blocked. Before I knew it, the yard was completely finished leaving me a bit parched but unwilling to go back into the house knowing some new chore would be waiting. I decided to walk down to the corner store for a drink and snack. The kids around my neighborhood jokingly referred to the chintzy establishment as the "Bootleg 7-11" and I wasn't picky.

My mind drifted further to Faith who'd stayed by my side after the assault out of some sense of karmic responsibility initially only to later admit feelings that would only be addressed in one night. We were robbed perhaps, but her own actions created that catalyst as well when she wrongfully mentioned my situation with Kimberly Bivens to Charity Gilbert.

Looking to avenge herself on a rival, I'd become a living weapon used to bend the knee of upwardly mobile, future millionaire Jay Stello. Yeah, the big colleges were still salivating at the prospect of having him join their ranks on the football fields and even news coverage was downplaying the incident. His family picked up the tab for my hospitalization although I heard mention that a college booster was likely funneling the funds in exchange for a signature on the dotted line. Charity Gilbert had been momentarily disposed by the rest of the football team after being exposed as the one pulling Jay's strings behind the scene. It was a momentary victory, but she was sitting tall as the student body president while Faith was in exile.

I figured she was well into a new life in China with her father recalling with painful clarity, the photos shown to me by a confidant. Particular in my mind was this Chinese guy around her age noticed in more than a few of the pics of her overseas life. Days drifted by added little bits of paranoia and resentment of entanglements imagined. Faith and I made no promises to one another during that one momentous night as we fucked, made love and everything in between knowing our time was fleeting.

There was this gasping desperation during the last few hours before we jointly ventured to the airport chauffeured by my mother. Just as she'd finished packing up her bag, it became imperative that we have one another a last time before the world violently sheared us apart. I fucked her so hard that I could still feel it as her plane flew off into the horizon. For the first few days afterwards, I was inconsolable. Now for the most part, there was a fleeting numbness.

Returning to by life in the urban diaspora was the least of my concerns as I now had that layer of emotional protection Hope had earlier tried to give me, but it just wasn't enough now that Faith was the stuff of memory.

"Fuck it; I'll get it from the horse's mouth."

Thirty plus minutes later, I was sitting on a bus almost arriving at my destination unsure of what I'd find at the endpoint. I was determined to see my former best friend and hash things out or let it burn in final dramatic fashion. I wanted some closure as we neared the last weeks of our final year of high school. It was a leap of Faith as I exited the bus walking across the street over the middle divider median which served as a mini-strip people used to walk their pets. I found the fence in front of his place locked but resolved to climb it. It was a little high, but I managed just fine, ringing his doorbell.

"Who is it?" A unfamiliar voice answered after a prolonged period of ringing.

"Dorothy, here to see the great and all powerful Oz."

"HUH, WHO IS IT AGAIN?!!" This person sounded like a little person for lack of a better description, verbally speaking.

"I-AH, AH, AAAHHH WANT-the knife!" I didn't think my Eddie Murphy "Golden Child" imitation would go over well, but it was worth a try as I heard some distorted, radio snow for a few seconds followed by a familiar voice.

"Get off my porch Jaleel!!" Ricky's voice blasted out of the door speaker as I noticed the door cam a few feet away from my face.

"But I have a golden ticket, Ricky." This time I quoted that old Willy Wonka movie, but he wasn't amused.

"GET THE HELL OFF MY PORCH!!" I flinched as he yelled into the door mic on his side. I walked back down the short steps stopping short as I fished out my phone calling up the clip of Kimberly Bivens backside.

"Hey, it's cool, but just remember the last time you saw me, I was unconscious. Don't say I never gave your punk ass anything, Ricky." I held the active clip up to the door cam letting the clip of my ex-whatever play on a loop for a few seconds.

"So, I'm supposed to open the door because you showed me that, huh?"

"No, I just wanted you to have a nice memory of me, you coward." I retreated feeling that I'd tried clamoring back over the fence with just as much trouble getting back over the locked fence. There would be a twenty-five minute wait for the next bus as I crossed the street to the grass covered median divider.

"JALEEL!!"

Ricky was standing at the gate looking at me, breathing hard. I hadn't seen him in just over a month. It looked like he lost a bit of weight and he'd shaved his head. I didn't know what to make of things unconsciously raising my fists, waiting. I didn't know what would happen next as Ricky opened the gate taking his time approaching me. He was standing in front of me about six feet away, taking stock of the situation.

"So, you came here to fight me?" Ricky asked as a light breeze blew leaving everything up in the air. I stared back for a few minutes, looking at his strained features.

"No, but I want you to take your shot." I dropped my hands to my sides.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You know what this is man; I'm taking responsibility for the shit show that's been our senior year. I can't say I'm sorry enough that I wasn't there when you needed me, and yeah Ricky, I slept with your sister. So, take your shot man, I deserve it for lying about that shit."

"You just gonna let me punch you, huh?"

"Yeah man, that's what I'm gonna do."

"Okay." Ricky replied unemotionally.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly not wanting to see it coming. I knew I'd flinch or raise a defensive hand out of instinct. This was just going to be an exercise in clearing up any lingering karma and I really felt it would even a lot of things out. Ricky and I were one another's support system throughout high school and the instant I got distracted, hell came a knocking. Despite myself, I flinched a little.

"AWWWWWFFHHHH!!" The pain exploded with a white flash across the inside of my eyelids.

Ricky Arias my former best friend, kicked me in the balls.

I went over like a ton of bricks rolling around on the grass as he stood there watching with a smirk on his face. Ricky put his hands in his pockets as a wide smile spread across his features. There was a flash of anger, but I managed sitting there on my butt.

"Really, kicked me in the balls, man?"

"Jaleel, you fucked my older sister." He explained looking happy at my discomfort, but otherwise relaxed.

"So, Hope just threw me under the bus, huh?"

"I don't really talk to her that much; she's kind of got into the bad girl thing down there at her college."

"What do you mean?"

"Hard partying, staying liquored up and stuff; mom's having a hell of a time with her. Guess she's feeling herself, not that its any of your business, pal."

"Honestly, she suggested we "Do It" so that I wouldn't be "whipped" by Kimberly Bivens; I got caught up Ricky, not my best moment."

"No shit; but that's my sister man."

"Fuck, wish you'd punched me instead of kicking my nuts."

"You've had a concussion bro; I was looking out for you Jaleel. Guess you couldn't do me a solid after she spiked my drink, huh nigga? That's some fucked up shit and I should kick you in the balls again."

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Yeah I know; should've saw it coming because she did that shit when we were sophomores. I was tasked by mom with keeping gentleman callers away from the house, so she slipped me the fucking Benadryl. Luckily, the guy ghosted her ass because she was a geek. Still though, you fucked my sister."

"Been there, done that; so, you look, okay." I cautiously got up keeping my eyes on Ricky.

"Yeah, been eating right and doing some exercise. I mean, I gotta be ready Jaleel; did Hope tell you to come over?"

"Why would she? We haven't really talked since before I went into the hospital."

"I'm leaving Monday morning."

"WHAT?!"

"I've got a general equivalency diploma for a few weeks now; I uhm, joined the army." It was more of a devastating blow to the gut than the kick I'd received to the groin. We just stared at one another for a few seconds before Ricky glanced down at his feet.

"You never said you were gonna join the army."

"Eh, I never thought about much of anything, didn't give a thought to my future beyond high school, either. Sometimes it takes a shock to the system to get your priorities in check. One day, I just did it, joined the service, Jaleel."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Ricky."

"I never blamed you for that shit, Jaleel." We hugged it out, but I was distraught.

"Sorry."

"It's cool; but you fucked my sister." We started laughing our asses off on that grass covered median.

"Shit, I should probably worry about some other guys kicking me in the balls. I've been busy, sexually speaking."

"Bullshit." Ricky raised an eyebrow, interest peaking in seconds.

"Started the year with Kimberly, your sister, Charity Gilbert, Her former right hand, Faith and Charmaine Belle." He got progressively more excited as I went down the list, shaking his head profusely reminding me of his former self.

"Now you really expect me to believe you hooked up with Charmaine Belle, that fucking female Clubber Lang? Man, I'd believe you got down with Charity before I ever signed off on that weird fantasy with your bully. Charmaine HATES you, Jaleel."

"Apparently not; wanna bet twenty dollars on the Charity shit, huh?" Ricky stared back looking deep into my eyes as a gregarious grin spread across his face.

"Damn man, you really did fuck Charity." He nodded as I produced my phone showing him the clip of her supervillain confession and subsequent beatdown.

Ricky watched the clip several times laughing hard each time Faith's hand dipped into frame slapping the taste out of Charity's mouth. We walked back over sitting on his steps as I filled him in on the insanity that had been my life up until that moment. He also continuously watched the clip of Kimberly's tight bubble butt being slapped before accidentally happening across Hope's troll videos. I had to snatch the phone away once I realized what he was looking at. He looked angry for a few seconds.

"Hey Jaleel; why was Hope sending all that shit to Kimberly?"

"I really can't explain it other than she got severely triggered by my situation; Ricky, she was doing her best to stick it to Kim, and well, she succeeded in spades. The shit with Jay Stello was all about Charity pulling the strings because her boyfriend forgot which girl was the side chick. I got caught in the middle of that crap, but Hope thought both of us got it because of her actions. Maybe you guys should talk."

"Yeah maybe you're right, but Hope's been gone for a minute now. Honestly, she was smothering the fuck out of me after that school fuckery with McKenzie. He got tried as an adult, apparently, Rob got dirty with a couple of other people, too." We sat looking out at the street, neither wanting to go further in that conversation.

"Fuck High School." I commented after a while.

"Was it worth it?"

"What?"

"Charity and uhm, Charmaine; I mean she was one of the bitches who got you beatdown that day." I realized I hadn't given a complete thought to the day I was assaulted beyond Jay Stello's fist colliding with my face.