I was so ashamed, but it had to come out. “The reason I think I’m insane is because I wake up sometimes and I’m wearing clothes I’ve never seen; my hair is curled instead of up; my glasses are tossed someplace; a couple of times they were even broken. And then there’s the other stuff.”
“What other stuff?”
I clamped my eyes shut. I’d never felt so degraded. “Dr. Spencer, sometimes there are strange smells on my body, on my breath, all over me. Sometimes there’s sticky stuff between my legs and—”
Dr. Spencer sat down on the corner of her desk, facing me, and lifted my chin with her hand so I’d look at her. “Jonquinette, are you telling me that you have sex with men and don’t remember it?”
“That’s the really crazy part, Dr. Spencer.”
“Please, call me Marcella.”
“Marcella, I’ve never been with a man. I’ve never had sex but—”
“But?”
“Somehow I managed to break my hymen and even contract one venereal disease.”
“How do you know that?”
“An OB/GYN told me. My freshman year in college something happened to me. I had gone to the library one day to study and I somehow blacked out. Afterward I went to the campus clinic because I was sore down there and I didn’t know why.”
“And this has been happening ever since then?”
“Yes, it has.”
Admitting it caused an instant breakdown. I grabbed hold of Marcella’s arm and began to cry. I buried my head into her chest; She wrapped her other arm around me.
“I’m so afraid,” I whimpered. “What’s wrong with me? Am I really insane?”
“No, I don’t think you’re insane,” she said reassuringly. “If you were insane, you wouldn’t have sought me out to help you. And I will help you, Jonquinette. I promise you that.”
Jon had lost her fucking mind. I couldn’t believe she went up there and told that bitch all of our fucking business. She was going to have to pay for that. And promising that doctor chick that she’d let her continue to help? Not as long as there was one breath left in my body.
To top things off, Jon had the nerve to leave there and go to the grocery store. She knew how much I hated the grocery store. Nothing but a bunch of bratty-ass kids begging their parents for candy, sugar-infested juices, or salty foods.
When I took over, we were walking down the pasta aisle. Of course, there was a hard-headed chap blocking the way. I jerked my cart toward him but he didn’t budge. Just glared at me and rolled his eyes. His mother was picking out a box of elbow macaroni.
“Ahem, could you tell your kid to move the hell out my way,” I lashed out at her.
She snickered like she couldn’t believe I’d actually said that.
“Are you going to move him or should I just knock his ass over with my cart?”
She grabbed her son by the shoulders and pulled him aside. “Move over here, David.” She leered at me. “You don’t have to be so rude, miss. He’s just a child.”
I picked up the nearest jar of spaghetti sauce and smashed it on the floor. I leaned down and picked up the lid. There was shattered glass attached to it. I held it up and she hauled ass with her kid in tow. I laughed. That’s what she gets, fucking with me.
I smashed a few more jars to get rid of some of the anger Jon had stirred up in me by telling our business. By the time I turned the corner, one of the store managers was rushing to see about the noise.
“You need a cleanup on aisle five,” I told him. “Some bratty kid was pitching a fit and his mother allowed him to have a tantrum. If I were you, I’d make them pay for it. It makes no sense.”
He shook his head in dismay. “I don’t know what’s wrong with kids these days.”
“Me either. If you hurry, you might be able to catch them up by the registers. She has on this horrid pastel dress and he has on a Teletubbies tee.”
“Thank you, miss,” he said before taking off for the bank of cash registers.
I smirked. I knew that heifer and her brat were long gone if they had any sense.
I decided to peruse the meat cases since I was already there. It had been ages since Jon had fixed a decent meal. I didn’t understand why she didn’t like eating out. We made enough money to eat out at least three nights a week, but she was on this cooking-healthy-meals kick. I was so sick of chicken that I didn’t know what to do.
I thought back to all the shit Jon had told that doctor. She made it seem like I was a bad person. Like I was in the wrong all those times. Didn’t Jon realize that I did all that to protect her? That Brenda Morrison chick in second grade had issues. Always teasing Jon about her clothes and hair. Always glaring down her little aquiline nose at us. That day on the playground, she went too far. She called Jon a fat pig, demanding more money, and I wasn’t having that. So yes, I kicked the little slut’s ass. Beat the shit out of her and her friends. They deserved it.
Now I will admit that I felt a little bad about poisoning Shadow. He was a cute little poodle, but I had to do it. Mrs. Greer hollered at Jon for no reason about running on her yard to get a ball. I mean, get real. Shadow could take his little dumps all over her yard at will, but Jon couldn’t get her ball back? So yes, I told her to make that dog stop barking while I was sitting on the porch. His barking wasn’t bothering me that much, but I was trying to play jacks in peace. I really just wanted to get into it with Mrs. Greer after what she had done to Jon. She took it a little too far, though. Talked a little bit too much trash. Sorry, Shadow, wherever you are, but the bitch had to pay.
As for those sluts in seventh grade, they’re lucky all they ended up with were bald heads. I started to buy everyone pizza and sprinkle rat poison all over it. The shit had worked so well on Shadow that I knew it would do them all in. But there was a problem. They all hated Jon and she never uttered a word to them. Just cringed up in fear every time they looked in her direction, changed in the stall instead of in front of them, and sat in the bleachers during gym class. I never understood that shit. Jon would take a failing grade instead of participating. Personally, I know for a fact that we could’ve showed all their asses up. By that time, Jon had started working the hell out of the treadmill we had in the basement at home and drinking water by the gallon. All the baby fat was gone and we were in awesome shape, even back then.
What really pissed me off was Jon talking about my sex life. Something she didn’t know jack shit about. Thank goodness she didn’t, because I didn’t want that doctor bitch knowing how I liked to get my freak on. As far as I was concerned, it was my pussy, not Jon’s. I’d do what I wanted with it, when I wanted, and no one was going to stop me.
I was highly disappointed with the selection of steaks. Half of them looked brown or were laden with fat. Someone really needed to report that grocery store. Every time we went in there, the meat looked less than kosher. Even some of the chicken Jon purchased reeked with salmonella.
I picked up a porterhouse steak and started sniffing the package. I didn’t want to get home, rip off the plastic, and fall out from the stench.
“Is there something wrong with the meat?”
I glanced to my left and saw this fine specimen of a brotha standing there in a blood-covered apron and paper hat. He was tall with sepia skin and dark eyes.
“Yes, the hell there is something wrong with the meat.”
The smile on his face dissolved and he crossed his arms in front of him like I’d just personally insulted him.
“What’s wrong with it?”
I tossed the package back into the case and put my hands on my hips. Nobody out attitudes me.
“Every single time I come up in here, the meat looks foul.” I pointed a few feet down to the chicken. “Especially the chicken. What’s up with all the yellow? Granted, I don’t work for the FDA or anything, but
