27. LUKE
Chapter 27
LUKE
Once seated, I ask the question that’s been burning in me for a while now.
“What happened between you and your uncle that brings fear to your face every time I close or lock the door, or when you talk about New York?”
“I’ll tell you, but you can’t stop me to ask any questions until I stop speaking, and you can’t get angry or tell anyone.” That’s a steep ask. I guess I have to hold it together.
“I can promise not to ask questions now, but I can’t promise to control my emotions, but I will try.”
“Please don’t tell Osei. I don’t want him to look at me with pity.” She says in a definite voice.
“I can promise not to tell Osei. If anything, I prefer to know things about you that he doesn’t know,” I reply.
“Okay, and no judgment from you, either.” It’s a command; I notice the skepticism on her face.
“Promise, no judgment,” I confirm to her. “I could never judge you.” I watch her pull away from me and I sit back to listen.
“I was born in Kent, UK. But we moved to Lagos when I was two, and my brother was six. My mom is a chef with a catering business, and my dad is an engineer. Life was good; I had nothing to worry about. I was raised conservative, like I mentioned, but with a little progressiveness. Anyway, during my first year at uni, my dad had an accident, and he was in the hospital for almost a year. The company paid for most of his expenses, but he couldn’t work anymore. By the end of my second year, we’d started to feel the financial strain. My mom had to sell her business to be home with him. My older brother was sent back to the UK, but each time he called, he was barely getting by.” She sighs.
“In comes my uncle, dad’s younger brother, who my dad had paid for his studies here in the U.S.. He told my dad he would take me with him, basically pay forward my dad’s help, and he promised to look after me. My parents and I had no reason not to trust him. He was, after all, family,” she air quotes.
“I moved here with him as my guardian. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, New York. My uncle was divorced with a son who lived with his mother but came over on weekends.
Uncle Timi was nice and got me registered at community college. While he tried to get me a legal resident status, I babysat to make money. Everything was moving in the right direction, as planned. About eight months after I arrived, he got injured at work. Some machinery fell on him. Between insurance and his company, a lot of the expenses were covered, but the problem began when he became addicted to Vicodin.” Her voice starts to shake. I know the darkness is about to begin. She’s quiet, and I want to say something so badly, but I remain quiet. Her glassy eyes won’t look at me.
“At first, we were getting by, but the money was dwindling faster than his addiction. He started selling everything he could get his hands on. His son stopped coming over. He would yell and scream at me. I had nowhere to go, and I couldn’t tell my parents what was going on. If anything, my dad was always telling me to make sure my uncle was okay. My brother wasn’t okay in London. I was alone, though I had people around me. My world and everything around me felt dire and lonely. All I could do was face work and school. It was the only thing I could focus on.” She sighs
“My uncle started going to the parents I babysat for to collect my pay before I’d even worked. The parents, as you can imagine, fired me. I found work, but I didn’t make enough to pay the rent and certainly no more school. We were behind on rent, and my uncle continued to spend every dime I made to feed his addiction. No matter how well I hid the money, because I was always getting paid in cash. I arrived home from work one evening to see my uncle with a heavyset guy smoking weed. Something about the leer of the man made me uneasy. I retreated to my room and locked the door.
I knew my uncle was making shady friends since he wasn’t working, but something about that particular guy was off. My instinct was on high alert.” She lets out a weighted exhale and starts to look down.
“Two nights after my first encounter with the guy, he was back, and as soon as I walked in, my uncle announced, ‘We have rent money.’ I will never forget those words.” She sniffs and wipes the tears that are starting to trickle. I watch her lips tremble and her hands tremble.
“I wanted to ask him how we got rent money, but I was raised not to question an adult. My reply was: ‘Should I take it to Mr. Hernandez?’ It really was my excuse to get out because the heavyset man, who I still did not know his name, was in my peripheral vision, grabbing his crotch and leering at me. My uncle’s reply was: ‘You will go inside and spread your legs for my friend here. He just paid for your virginity.’ Shock overtook me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.”
The tears are now uncontrolled. She’s trembling so much. Fuck! My promise. I move fast and pull her into my arms. She keeps crying. All I do is hold her close to me and not say a word, as much as I want to tell her to stop talking. I also know she needs to get it out.
“I refused to go and raced towards the door to get out of the apartment, but it was locked and blocked. I couldn’t get out. While I talked to my uncle, the guy had blocked the door. My uncle smoked as the guy dragged me, kicking and screaming, to my room. He raped me over and over. He kept telling me, ‘Three thousand is a lot of money, and I should be happy he wants me.’ Each time I tried to race for the door, it was locked. I screamed for my uncle, hoping my scream would save me, but I could smell the weed. I knew my uncle was high, and I had to save myself. Eventually, he tied me to the bed.”
I’m going to commit murder.
“I’d lost track of how many times he stuffed himself inside me, using his smelly hands to prevent me from screaming. The worst was the pain of his slaps, to stop me from fighting back. He then told me that if I told anyone, he was going to kill my uncle by shooting him up with cocaine and make sure I got deported. He knew my parents were struggling, and obviously, my uncle had sold his soul to the devil. I laid there and cried. When he left, I showered over and over to get his stench off me. I pulled the sheets off the bed and threw them in the garbage. I wanted to lock myself in there forever, but something about the way he looked at me when he was leaving made me believe he would be back, and no one would save me. Rather than remain a sitting duck, I went to work, despite how much my body felt like it had been railroaded by a freight train. I also knew that I needed to get out of the house because I wouldn’t eat if I didn’t work. My uncle was stoned out on the sofa when I left. I left him; betrayal and hurt were crying loudly in my bones.” She wipes her tears.
“My only friend, Esther, asked what was wrong with me after I expressed fear of going home. I broke down and told her everything. Esther then told me that I needed to get tested. She gave me Plan B meds and told me that I didn’t want to get pregnant by a monster like that. She also warned me not to report Floppy—that was his name—because his threats weren’t a bluff. So, I kept quiet.” She wipes her tears but rests her head on my chest.
“I slept in the breakroom that night and every night for a week. When I finally returned home, because the owner of the store said I couldn’t continue sleeping in the breakroom — he could get in trouble if someone found out that I was getting locked inside the store or some crazy accident happened. I went home, hoping my nightmare was over. When I got home, the neighbors informed me that my uncle was in the hospital. He’d overdose. I knew Floppy had done it. I went to see my uncle, and he didn’t remember anything. I told him what had happened. He apologized and told me to go home. He said he was going to work on getting clean and begged me not to tell my dad.” She starts to shake and I hold her tight to me.
“I went home thinking everything was okay, that everything was back on track. Our apartment reeked of weed, like someone had a smoking party there. I was too scared to open the windows and air it out, so I made sure I locked all the doors and windows, making sure everything was secured.”
“I woke up with the same guy on top of me. He taped my mouth, tied my hands, and had his way with me. After he was done, he said, ‘I couldn’t get enough, and I knew you would be back once your doped-up uncle landed in the hospital. I’ve claimed you, and no one else can ever have you, and remember: if you tell, I’ll finish him off.’ He untied me and left. I ripped the tape off to let out a muffled scream, then raced to the bathroom to wash myself until my skin broke. The next day, I filled my backpack and went to work. I told Esther that Floppy had returned, and I wasn’t safe at home anymore. He’d taken my uncle’s key and broke the door chains to get in. Esther told me I needed to get far away from the area because Floppy was a notorious psycho, and he wasn’t going to stop because he was fixated on me.” She pulls out of my arms and wraps her arms around herself.
“I had nowhere to go and didn’t know anyone. Esther said I needed to start thinking of going far away and forget my uncle. So, I went to my uncle’s ex, Aunty Dee, the only other person I knew who would take me in. And she did. She also made me promise not to return to my uncle. She said my parents had been nice to her, and the least she could do was return the favor. I was happy to stay with her and help babysit my cousin. About a month into living with her, she ran inside, shaking. I asked what was wrong. She told me that I needed to leave that night for Chicago, that Floppy was tailing her. I couldn’t believe it. At first, I told myself she was lying, but I knew she wouldn’t lie to me. She was just as frightened as I was. The reality was my world was crashing again. I felt like I was in a vicious cycle of a nightmare that was never going to end. As my mother used to say, ‘Can’t go forward, and can’t go backward.’”
“While I stood horrified at my new reality, Aunty Dee packed my backpack. She also packed a bag for her and my cousin. We left for the train station, and on the way, she told me I was heading to Chicago and that I shouldn’t look back. She bought me a burner phone and a one-way ticket to Chicago. She gave me the information about her cousin, Amaka, and said she would be expecting me. She told me not to call her or send a message; Amaka knew what to do.” She heavily sighs.
“That was how I ended up here in Chicago. Amaka came to get me at the train station. I came with a backpack, forty dollars, and a shitload of fear and anxiety. Floppy had stolen my passport. Amaka took me in, no questions asked. I call her my Angel.” She smiles for the first time.
“We got along well. She told me that nursing was the route of education I needed to pursue, and she could easily get me to work in that area. So, I started the nursing program and realized that I liked it. I didn’t tell my parents where I was, out of fear they might tell my uncle, or for all I knew, he could tell Floppy. I want to believe he probably moved on and won’t care about me, but a part of me errs on the side of caution and safety. It’s better to assume he would do something crazy, like try to come and get me, than to be carefree and find myself living the horror again.” She pauses and looks at me with her red and teary eyes. I maintain a poker face, much as I am raging inside, and I wait for her to continue. She exhales and continues.
“For months after I moved in with Amaka, I slept with a knife under my pillow and a ready bag to escape. I put cash in the bag as well, in case I needed to run. Amaka didn’t care that I locked doors and windows every second; she understood my dilemma. I would later find out from Amaka that Aunty Dee had heard all about Floppy and had called Amaka to please help me before the night she’d rushed home. Aunty Dee’s plan was for Amaka and I to talk beforehand, but things changed drastically.” She wipes her tears.
“As I got comfortable, I stopped sleeping with a knife, but I still keep my backpack with an extra change of clothes, some cash, and a knife in the bag. Amaka was true to her words about helping me. She got me a job at a nursing home. I completed my LPN program and continued for my RN. That’s when I met Jax.” Her voice is steady now, and the tears have stopped.
“I didn’t ask Amaka how she got me employed, long as I was working. I continued my RN program. After my graduation, I told my mom why I’d left New York. She cried. I begged her not to tell my dad and my brother. She agreed that it would only make Dad’s condition worse.” I put my hand out to her, and she takes my hand, squeezing it a bit.
“I kept my head down and lived my life. I was normal again, or at least I thought I was. I didn’t date and disliked guys grabbing or touching me. It all just felt like Floppy was grabbing me again each time any guy did that, and I would freak out. Though Nosah, Amaka’s fiancé, and Kai, my co-worker, are notorious for trying to make me less tense about touches. I’m slowly getting used to not freaking out every time. Before Floppy, all I’d ever done was kiss a boy. That was the extent of my sexual encounters with boys.” She smirks at me.
“Amaka then decided to move to California after Nosah proposed to her, which meant I needed to move soon, because the lease was going to expire in two months. Nosah and Ramsey are cousins. Amaka asked Ramsey if he could marry me and file legal papers for me so I could finish my BSN and return to the UK.” The pitch of her voice is angrier now.
“My brother is okay now, but he said it was best that I finish my BSN program before returning to the UK, that way all I’d have to do is study for the license and not go through the rigor of school and working again. Ramsey agreed to file for me so I could work and finish school. I wanted to pay him, but he said Nosah was his cousin and I was Nosah’s adopted younger sister, so all I had to do was move in, help him with the rent and bills, and that would make us even. What I didn’t know was the fact he was bad with money. When Amaka left, against Osei’s wishes, I moved in with Ramsey. I even lied to Osei that we were dating so he wouldn’t worry.” Her anger resonates more now in her voice.
“Ramsey convinced me to open a joint account with him. I did. He said he couldn’t change the lease, but I could put my name on the utilities with his name. I did it because I trusted him. After two months, I asked him when we would get the papers started. He said he hadn’t filed his taxes because he would owe, and they would need that, so I should just give him some time, or if I wanted to expedite things, I could help him pay what he owed and he would pay me back.” A sad chuckle escapes her. “Stupid me agreed, so I worked double shifts and paid his owed taxes.” I get her anger at the predator in friend’s clothing.
“Once his taxes were done, I asked when we would go to the lawyers. He said I needed to get a current passport, which was true, so I worked on getting a new passport, which came three months ago, and had my parents send all the other documents I would need.” She exhales.
“One evening, Ramsey used his key to unlock my bedroom door and came into my room. I fought him hard and kicked him out. At this point, Amaka had encouraged me to learn how to fight, so we’d gone to some training classes. The only silver lining about that night when he snuck into my room was the fact I no longer slept with a knife under my pillow. I’m sure I would have killed him. The next morning, he apologized, saying he was drunk, but it wouldn’t be bad if we dated. That would make it all real. I told him I wasn’t interested in dating anyone. He then called me a tease and walked away. He would return home with different girls, hoping to make me jealous, but I didn’t care. As long as he wasn’t sneaking into my bed or coming after me.” She sighs.
“I asked him again about our agreement, and he shrugged, saying he was working on it, but it would move faster if I put out. I reminded him that wasn’t our agreement, and I was already footing most of the bill. I told him I would work to pay him, he said no. He wanted me to come willingly and have sex with him. He said I’d let Nosah and Osei touch me, but I wouldn’t let him touch me. I told him I don’t like men touching me, and I especially didn’t like him touching me, but I didn’t share my horror stories with him. Amaka knows, and I know she told Nosah, who is always protective of me, and they were kind to me. After our conversation, I stayed out of his way, and I also knew that he wasn’t going to help me, and I needed to start finding a way to leave his place.
“I didn’t act soon enough, though, because he spent all my savings, laughing with his friends about me. That’s when I called Osei.” She removes her hand from mine with a sad smile. “Now you can ask all your questions.”
“Right now, I just want to hold you.” A faint smile crosses her lips, and she leans back into my arms. We sit in harmony with our heartbeat and the sea breeze is the only sound. Fucking Chase, touching her the way he did probably triggered her. I wish I’d punched him more.
“I will never hurt you,” I say to her.
“I know. Can we go for a walk and get ice cream?” I chuckle. Guess we need something sweet after the heaviness of today.
“Yes,” I answer, kissing her forehead.
She kisses my lips. “Thank you for listening.” I nod.
We change clothes and head out, holding hands. I put a lid on my internal rage. It’s best I hide that emotion from her, because I know that’s not what she wants. Bruce is going to take care of Floppy for me and I’m going to derive pleasure in breaking Ramsey’s face. I will ask more questions later.