Tainted

2. Zara Canton

2

Zara Canton

W hen I decided to leave Autumn Grove, I created a fake social media account to find my cousin, Brandy. We exchanged numbers and met up when I got back in town. I needed money fast, so Brandy gave me a few places to try when I arrived. Utopia was at the top of the list. She said it was the hottest strip club in town, which meant big money.

Banana Girl opened her home to me without a second thought. With her in a nursing home, Brandy was the only one there, plus it was plenty of space. What I didn’t expect was Brandy’s annoying boyfriend, Otto, who was always here. Either they were arguing, fucking, or both at the same time.

Last night was a combination of them arguing about some nigga at her job that he swore was her ‘work boyfriend.’ Brandy denied it, but he continued talking to her crazy until he ran out of insults and began soothing her hurt feelings with his dick.

Unfortunately, that’s the part they were on now, and the walls at Banana’s Girls' house were old and thin, so I climbed out of bed.

“I have to get my own fuckin’ place,” I groaned, marching downstairs.

The familiar creak of each step brought me back to the summers I spent here. I could almost hear the echoes of my younger self laughing and racing down these same steps. Those were the days when everything felt safe when my world was small and filled with love.

The kitchen smelled just as I remembered the lingering scent of something sweet. Then my mom would burst into the kitchen complaining that Banana Girl would spoil me rotten. Tonight, it was just me and the lump in my throat.

The sound of footsteps behind me was so soft I almost didn’t hear it. But when I closed the fridge door and turned around, Otto was standing too close, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my skin crawl.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low and almost too friendly.

“Y’all make it hard to get any of that around here,” I complained, shoving him out of my way.

“Sorry, you know how it gets sometimes. Or do you?”

Rolling my eyes, I continued making my sandwich. After a month and a half, I had already decided that I didn’t like Otto, but it didn’t stop him from trying to have conversations.

“Is the city treating you well?” he asked.

“The city is just fine.”

“If you need a tour around or anything. Just hit me up.”

“Why would I hit you up?” I frowned at how he leaned on the counter, licking his lips.

“Oh hey boo!” Brandy sang, prancing into the kitchen with a bright smile stretched across her face. “I didn’t know you were still up.”

“Y’all made sure of it.”

“I know who needs some,” Otto mumbled, and Brandy snickered before hitting his arm.

“Don’t talk about my cousin like that.”

“I’ll leave y’all to girl talk about me. Can you bring me a sandwich when you come back up?”

Brandy nodded, and Otto smacked her ass before walking upstairs.

“Umm, that man!” She praised, her shoulders quivering at the memories they just created. “We gotta get you out so you can meet people. All you do is work and sit up in that room. The only thing you’re missing is the braids, Brandy .”

“The last thing I’m worried about is a man,” I replied.

“Well, you need to do something. Now that you’re not in Westbubblefuck anymore,” Brandy paused, looking over her shoulder as if we wouldn’t have heard the old steps if Otto returned. “Isn’t that why you left?”

“Maybe after I get my place, I’ll be down to party.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s a little too cramped for me here.”

“Cramped?” Brandy asked. “It’s a five-bedroom house, Za-.” I cleared my throat, and she caught herself. For the most part, Brandy remembered, but now and then, she’d slip up, like now. "There's plenty of space here.”

“Finish your man’s sandwich. Please let me fall asleep before round two.” I picked up my plate and returned to Shana’s old bedroom.

Most days, sleeping in the same room she grew up in comforted me. Despite being miles away, a piece of her was here with me.

P ulling up outside Utopia, the neon sign above the entrance glowed, but its colors were muted against the backdrop of daylight. The glass door swung open as I approached the entrance, revealing where a few girls mingled among themselves. After settling, I sat against the wall when our boss, Kross, walked in. His presence alone turned everybody’s conversation into hushed murmurs. In the short time I had been here, he was a man of few words while Megan ran the day-to-day.

I hadn’t figured out her deal yet, but she clarified a few things when I got hired. She’s always the first point of contact, and Mr. Keyes was off-limits— both of them. I had yet to meet the other Mr. Keyes, but I wasn't missing much if he was anything like Kross.

“Alright, ladies!” Megan sighed, strutting into the main area with Phoenix. “I hope y’all have been practicing. I’m not in the mood to have my time wasted today.”

My time was wasted because I didn’t see the floor or the pole. Me and all the new girls sat idly for two hours, watching the others twirl and fuck up and I was over it. I could’ve stayed home for this.

“Elektra, point your toes more on that invert,” Rajah instructed, her voice firm but not unkind. “It’ll make your lines cleaner.”

She nodded, adjusted her stance, and tried again. Rajah gave a slight nod of approval before her eyes flicked to Diamond, attempting a spin but losing momentum halfway through.

“Keep your core engaged, Diamond,” Megan added, stepping forward. “If you don’t, you’ll end up muscling through it, and that’s how you get hurt.”

I watched closely, absorbing every piece of choreography. My muscles tensed every time I saw a move I wanted to attempt, my fingers twitching like they were already gripping the cold metal.

“Bitch we don’t have all day. Can you close the routine or what?” Rajah yelped, shooting up on her feet and asking the question I had been wondering for the last thirty minutes.

“Why don’t you come show me how it’s done?” Diamond sulked, clinging to the pole.

Rajah’s neck rolled from side to side, likely insulted by her question. She was the OG, which meant her word was law. Even Diamond knew that, so she walked her comment back.

“I’ve put in enough work that I don’t take orders from you. If you want to get there, work on that weak-ass core. That’s why you’re struggling.”

“Chill, Rajah, she’s been working on it,” Phoenix chimed in, taking up for her flunky.

“And that’s how she looks? I wouldn’t tell anybody that.” Rajah frowned.

“Ladies!” Megan called out, trying to regain control of the room, but she had been glued to her phone since rehearsal started, “Y’all are bickering about bullshit. Diamond, do it again, and Rajah, if she can’t get it, you will take over.”

“Phoenix is next in line. Make her do it.” Rajah delivered a sarcastic smile that made Phoenix flip up her middle finger.

“I need to take this. Rajah continue practice and be nice.” Megan stepped to the side, phone pressed to her ear.

The DJ replayed the track, and Diamond attempted again. It wasn’t just about swinging around a pole for show. It took muscle, coordination, and focus, and Diamond’s lack of strength threw off the whole routine.

“Her grip is off,” I mumbled, watching her fuck up.

“What did you say?” Rajah asked, turning to me.

I hesitated speaking up, not knowing if Rajah was being genuine or a bitch like Phoenix and Diamond, but I was tired of sitting here.

“She’s holding the pole too tight. It’s making her movements stiff and throwing off her rhythm.”

Rajah looked impressed.

“Let me see what you got,” she suggested.

“For what? Ain’t no way Megan’s putting fresh meat on the floor at Keyes party,” Phoenix interjected.

Every profession seemed to have a bully, and Phoenix was mine. Fortunately for her, I needed my job, so I granted her a longer leash than usual. Most days, Utopia felt like high school but worse because we couldn’t hide behind our youth and blame the cattiness on immaturity. Phoenix wasn’t anybody I wanted to be friends with anyway.

“Damn Phoenix. Chill.” Elektra chuckled, propped on her elbow. “Let her try. It’s just practice.”

“I’m just telling it like it is.”

“You and your girl need the practice since we’re telling it like it is.” I rolled my eyes, and Megan saved her, ending practice because she had something else to handle.

Hauling to my feet, I quickly changed because I had more important things to do. I quickly drove over to Serenity Springs, and Banana Girl’s light brown orbs blinked, trying to recall the little girl who used to follow her around.

"My Zara," she whispered, her voice a melody of joy and surprise. “Come here, let me look at you."

I stepped to her bedside, and her hand cupped my cheek, trembling against my skin. I wanted to believe it was just the excitement from seeing me, but it was residual damage from the stroke.

“You looked at me yesterday, Nana Banana,” I chuckled to lighten the mood.

She pulled me into her embrace and reclined, still holding me. It was as if I was still the little girl who had spent summers chasing magic only Nana could create. As a child, I nicknamed her because, in my innocent mind, her skin tone resembled the pale hue of a ripe banana. So, Nana Banana became a reflection of the unique bond we shared.

“How are you feeling today?”

“I’m not dead, so.”

“Good thing you’re not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to enjoy these,” I smiled, pulling the Cow Tail from my bag. Growing up, they were her favorite, and judging by the glow of her smile, they still were. “I’ll share, but you have to tell me why you’re in a mood today.”

Nana sucked her teeth, “Gwen told you that?” referring to the no-nonsense nurse that usually worked her unit. She was nice and the only one who could stand toe-to-toe with Banana Girl when she got in her mood.

“She did.”

“She needs to stop running her mouth and worry about that ugly ass mop on her head.”

“I should wash your mouth with soap for being rude.”

“It ain’t rude if it’s true. She needs to mind her business.”

“She cares about you,” I said, extending the Cow Tail. Just that quickly, I forgot about the stroke and how weak her left side was.

I felt a strong urge to help as I watched her struggle to grasp the candy in her left hand. I resisted until she finally got frustrated and no longer craved the sweet treat she used to sneak me before dinner.

“Calling somebody for your every need ain’t easy for a woman like me.”

“This isn’t forever. It’s just a pit stop on the way back home. Now, what do you need to turn that frown upside down?”

“A shower.”

“Let’s do it,” I smiled, peeling my jacket off.

All it took was a hot shower, combing her hair, and watching General Hospital while eating Cow Tails to shift her mood.

“Sonny Corinthos is still on this show?” I asked, reclining in the chair next to her bed.

“ Still . He looks good, doesn’t he?”

“He’s alright.”

“Just alright? You youngin’s don’t know nothing.” Nana waved me off because you couldn’t tell her anything about Sonny Corinthos—not when I was a kid and not now.

“Are Sonny and Carly still together?”

“Girl, no. Can you believe she married Jason when they thought Sonny was dead?”

I chuckled at how appalled she was at the writing. “What?”

“Yup, but I always knew it would happen one day. Jason has never played when it comes to Carly. It didn’t matter who she was with. A man like that is a man you keep.” The conversation stopped so she could focus on Sonny and Nina’s conversation before she asked, “How’s your Mama doing?”

Shrugging my shoulders made Nana’s nostrils flare.

“I reckon you haven’t spoken to Rodney either?”

“Nope.” That annoying alarm went off in my body, telling me this was enough for the day, so I began collecting my trash. “How’s Aunt Misa? I haven’t seen her since I got back,” I asked, referring to Brandy’s mom. It was almost like she didn’t exist to either of them.

She mockingly shrugged her shoulders.

“You and your daughter are so much alike,” I scoffed.

“Shit, we better be. I carried her butt for nine months.”

“What about the other one you carried?” I asked, causing Nana to smack her lips.

“I don’t remember you being so nosey, little girl.”

“Growing up in Podunk towns has a way of doing it to you.”

“Misa is around when she’s around.”

I could tell by how her eyes darted around the room that there was more to the story, but I let it go for now.

“I have to work this weekend, so I probably won’t be back until Monday. Please behave.”

“I am the grandmother here.”

“And hardheaded. I’m serious, Nana.”

“I see she whose name I can’t speak passed a few things down to you. That girl was the queen of the guilt trip. Where are you workin’ anyway?”

“At a club. You know how it is on the weekends,” I explained vaguely, hitting a two-step like we used to in her kitchen.

“Girl, you’ve been dancing since you could stand.” Her eyes grew distant, recalling my childhood, “Anyway, I spent plenty of weekends at the clubs back in my day.”

“You’ve lived quite the life, haven’t you?”

“I have. You be safe out there. Especially at night.”

“Yes, ma’am. Next time I come, you can tell me more about that life. I love you, Banana Girl.”

“I love you too, baby.”