Now there was Doo. Doo, who in the last year had turned out not to be a phase at all but instead a permanent fixture. Doo, who stared at Gaia when Charlene wasn’t looking, who bought new furniture, new tension, and new schemes. Charlene was so in love with Doo that she had threatened to evict Gaia if she told any more lies about Doo’s flirtatious behavior. She was completely blind to Doo’s faults. Slowly but surely, Gaia saw herself being pushed away to make room for another woman. Lately, she had done everything she could not to be alone with Doo, but tonight she didn’t have a choice. Charlene, her defender, the only one who could keep the bad things at bay, needed help.
Around 6 o’clock, while Gaia was giving herself a pedicure, Charlene called collect from the Richmond City Jail.
“I’m in,” Gaia said, after accepting the call.
“I know. Doo told me.”
The sound of Charlene’s voice came through clear, but she still seemed distant.
“Are you happy?” Gaia asked.
“Of course. I want the hell out of here.”
“I’m nervous.”
Charlene sighed. “Come on. You’re a pro at this.”
“Yeah. When you’re there. When I can look at you.”
“Just do it.
Gaia paused. Her lip trembled. She took a deep breath. “But what about Doo? You know how she gets when you’re not around. Can you talk to her and—”
“Are we back on this? Listen, and this is the very last time I’m going to say this: Doo loves me. She thinks you’re an immature little kid, Gaia. I had to beg her to do this with you because she doesn’t trust you to keep your head straight. Was she right?”
“No. No, I can do it. I’m just a little nervous.”
“Damnit, G. This is my life on the line. And you owe me. You better not back out. I swear to God, Gaia.”
“I won’t, Char! I swear.”
“Okay. Good. You my girl.”
Gaia tried to imagine what Charlene could be wearing. Probably an orange jumpsuit. She wondered if Charlene’s hot pink nail polish was chipping away. Wondered if the phone was pressed between her shoulder and her ear or if she was clutching the receiver with both hands, like Gaia was.
“I love you,” Gaia said.
“Aw, don’t get mushy. Just do like Doo says and everything will be fine.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t let me down.”
“I won’t.”
A half hour before midnight, Gaia slipped into a curve-hugging black minidress and put on her favorite pair of red patent-leather stilettos. She painted her lips a fiery red and pulled her long braid free, letting her heavy brown curls fall around her shoulders and down her back. She found Charlene’s loaded Glock underneath the mattress and hid it in a black handbag for protection. With her short leather trench belted at the waist, she walked outside onto the dark patio to wait for Doo. She thought about Charlene in handcuffs a week before, violently kicking Officer O’Rourke’s cruiser.
Outside, the air was bitingly cold against Gaia’s bare legs, but she had been claustrophobic inside the small apartment, battling the deafening silence, the persistent emptiness, and a constant stream of thoughts that told her to double check the door to make sure she wasn’t locked in. She felt safer out in the open, where no matter how far up she stretched her hands she’d never touch a wall. On either side of her was yet another one-level apartment. These project apartments all looked alike on the inside: cold cement walls, two small bedrooms, few windows, and a clear view of the back door as soon as you walked in the front door. Outside, plastic chairs and card tables cluttered the tiny front patios, and one of Gaia’s neighbors was sitting out smoking a cigarette. Gaia settled into a cold plastic chair and watched the neighborhood pulsing around her.
The wind blew, rushing like floodwaters between the small gaps that separated buildings, blowing litter around on balding lawns and into deep potholes in the street. The street came alive at night, bustling with activity. It was rush hour for the corner boys. They hopped in and out of cars like musical chairs. Gaia took deep breaths and listened as the one-woman Neighborhood Watch Association, Ms. Nora, shooed a group of the boys from under the big shade tree in the front yard of her shabby clapboard house across the street from the projects.
“Go stand under that street lamp and let Jesus and the rest of the world see what you doing, niggas. Go on, you little hooligans!”
The boys moved their operation a few feet down the block, joking around in front of the fenced-in playground behind the recreation center, where Gaia had played as a child. Tonight, she thought she saw the dim glow of a lit cigarette briefly penetrate the darkness of the basketball court, its smoker cloaked in nightfall. Gaia knew that the blood of gunshot victims had touched the blacktop almost as often as basketballs had. She sometimes wondered if other people saw the ghosts of those victims roaming at night, haunting the neighborhood, hiding in shadowy corners. It made her wonder if she’d ever leave Providence Park, even after she died.
Restless, Gaia’s legs bounced up and down, the heels of her shoes rhythmically clicking the concrete. It was a unique feeling she got right before she, Charlene, and Doo set out on one of these kinds of nights. It had been three months since she’d felt it, the anticipation of being in complete control of a man’s fate, his life, his livelihood. It was intoxicating. But tonight, most of what she felt was anxiety about Charlene’s absence.
When Doo’s shiny Cadillac pulled up to the curb, Gaia pinched the cold flesh of her right leg between two acrylic fingernails and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt for the piece of Charlene she had hidden in her handbag, and told her legs not to shake as she walked briskly over to Doo’s car.
Doo jumped out from her side of the vehicle and ran around to open the passenger-side door before Gaia reached it. Charlene usually rode shotgun and Doo had never made this kind of gesture for her.
In the car with the windows up, Gaia could smell the booze coming through Doo’s pores and knew she was feeling no pain. That was no surprise. The most dangerous place in the world was between Doo and a bottle of Southern Comfort.
Doo took her hand off the steering wheel, turned toward Gaia, and rubbed her thumb back and forth against the rest of her fingers. She smiled, her eyebrows shooting up questioningly. “Feel me? Lot of money on the line with this one. You gotta be on point tonight. He’s expecting two.” She stopped talking and looked down at Gaia’s bare legs, illuminated by the streetlight they sat parked under, then chuckled lightly. “But I’m sure he’ll be more than happy when he sees you.”
“It’s Charlene that’s on the line. Remember?”
“What?” Doo’s head snapped up. “How the fuck could I forget that? She’s my number one priority, and I’m hers. You remember that.”
“Well, she’s the only reason I’m doing this.”
“Yeah, well, if you’re serious, you need to hike that skirt up a little bit more.” Doo grinned and pushed back Gaia’s stretchy black mini until the hem rested on the upper thigh. Her finger grazed and lingered over the bare skin of Gaia’s leg. Gaia used her foot to drag her handbag toward the seat. Her pulse quickened.
“Doo,” she warned, hoping a firm tone would be enough.
Doo threw her head back and laughed. “Easy,” she said, and pulled away from the curb.
Seeing both of Doo’s hands occupied with steering, Gaia leaned back against the headrest and tried to relax. Her neck felt tight, her muscles tense.