The Kat Trap

24

The whole summer was one big-ass blur to me. I couldn't believe the shit had just 'bout come and gone and, in another three weeks, Labor Day was gonna be here. Chanel and I were already talkin' 'bout maybe goin' to either Puerto Rico or St. Lucia to chill that weekend. Of course she wanted to invite Tamia's rotten ass, but I shut that shit down real quick. I told that ho I didn't want that dirty bitch nowhere in my space.

"Kat, that's fucked up," she said. "We 'posed to be girls 'n shit."

"Wrong answer," I replied. "You my girl. That ho was a bitch I chilled with on the strength of you. Yeah, okay, at first I thought we were cool 'n shit. And I ain't gonna front, I did try 'n embrace her and Iris...you know, show 'em mad love. But on some real shit, them bitches was always hatin' on us from gate. And you know it. You and I both know them sluts were ridin' on our styles to fit in. The only reason niggas was really fuckin' with 'em is 'cause they some greedy, dick-lovin', cum-guzzlin' hoes. But I ain't never judge they asses. I still fucked with 'em. But that was then, and this is now. And now, I'ma grown-ass woman tryna do grown-ass things. I ain't beat for none of that dirty shit she's into. That bitch can't even be real with hers, so hell no, that bitch can't roll no-muhfuckin'-where with me again!"

And there you have it. That was the end of that. And just like Iris's dumb ass got got, I knew Tamia's crusty ass was next. You don't go 'round fuckin' muhfukas when you know ya pussy is jacked, spreadin' shit. I don't give a fuck if a nigga ain't tryna use a condom or not. Yeah, the nigga gets what he gets, but fuck that. Bitch, be real with yours; that's all I'm sayin'. That shit is gonna eventually get ya ass beat, or a hole in ya skull. Whatever!

Anyway, so here it was a Friday night, and I was downstairs in the media room sittin' Indian-style in the middle of the floor in my panties, with my titties dancin' freely about, drinkin' Henny and blazin' trees in my own zone, mindin' my own damn business, when somebody started pressin' down on my doorbell like they had lost their f-in' mind. I started to ignore the shit, but when they started bangin' on my damn door, that did it. I got up and stomped up the stairs, then peeked outta the peephole. A bitch almost passed out. It was Juanita standin' on the other side of the door, with one hand on her hip and the other bangin' on my door. "Who the fuck is it?" I yelled, actin' like I had no clue she was out there.

"Kat, open this damn door," she slurred loudly. I could tell her mouth was still wired the way she sounded. It sounded like she had a dick stuck in her throat, or was talkin' with a mouthful of marbles. "It's your mother. You know. The one you don't seem to remember havin'."

I walked to the window to see who else was out there with her before I decided whether or not to let her ass in. I wasn't in the mood for gettin' jumped by her and my crazy-ass aunts. But I'd fight her ass one-on-one if I had to. I couldn't see anyone else, but that didn't mean they weren't hidin' in the bushes or still out in her car. I knew enough to know that it was unlikely for her ass to drive way out there solo.

"Hold on," I said, goin' to the hall closet to find somethin' to put on. I pulled a navy-blue silk robe off one of the wooden hangers, then put it on. I tied the belt 'round my waist, then started toward the door. Unh-uh, this chick is a nut, I thought. Ain't no tellin' what she's gonna do. I stopped in my tracks and turned back around and went into the kitchen. I dumped open my bag and grabbed what I needed along with my cordless phone, just in case. I walked back to the door and opened it. I kept the storm door locked and spoke to her through the glass. "Why you here?" I asked, frownin.' I leaned up against the doorframe, with one hand on my hip and the other behind my back.

"Are you gonna let me in or not?" she asked, slammin' her hands on both her hips. The right side of her face was still swollen, and her left eye had a patch over it. She was still tore-up so I knew she didn't come to put work in.

"For what?"

"What do you mean 'for what?'"

"Duh, just what I mean."

"Kat, don't be a bitch. Open ya damn door and let me in so we can talk."

I stood there in the doorway and looked at the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who practically abandoned me for the men in her life, and I felt nothin' for her. Not one damn thing. Not happiness. Not pity. Not sadness. Not contempt. Not a goddamn thing. I was empty toward her. And I realized that that emptiness was always there 'cause she never connected with me; she never embraced me long enough to fill my emotional cup. And it was fuckin' empty. And I was left to fill it up on my own.

I shook my head. "No. You wanna talk, then you talk outside 'cause you not welcome in my home. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, we have nothin' to talk about. I said all I'm gonna say to you the last time we spoke, and ain't nothin' changed."

She frowned. "I thought it was real fucked up that you didn't come to the hospital to see me. I'm still ya mother."

"Umm, and that surprised you, because...?" I said, openin' my hand and holdin' my arm out, pausin' for her to fill in the blanks. When she didn't, I continued, "I told you I was done with you. And I meant that."

Then outta nowhere, like I suspected, here comes Rosa talkin' shit. She musta been sittin' in the car, or squattin' on the side of the house. She came rushin' up to the door in a pair of faded blue jeans and a blue oversized 2006 Essence Festival shirt with a pair of crisp white Nikes. And the chick had her hair pulled back real tight into a ponty tail with it stuffed under her fitted baseball cap like she was prepared to put some work in.

"Fuck all this back 'n forth shit, Juanita. Tell her ass we need to talk and to open up this motherfuckin' door," she said, talkin' with her hands, pointin' at me through the door. She stared at me. "Kat, open up this fuckin' door, or bring ya fresh ass outside so we can air it out. All that slick shit on the phone ain't forgotten, sweetie. I told you, I'ma put my foot in ya ass."

I laughed. "Oh, really? Well, I tell you what. Try it if you want. But what the both of you had better do is get the fuck up off my property."

"You fresh-ass bitch," Rosa screamed, slammin' her hand against the glass. "We ain't goin' no fuckin' where until I beat ya ass for disrespectin' ya mother, and me."

"What the fuck you think I look like, lettin' the two of you up in my spot? You think I'ma let ya'll up in here so you can try 'n toss my spot up. I don't think so." Then it hit me that maybe I should let 'em in. I mean, that way, when they got at me and I had to put a bullet in one of 'em, I could say they attacked me in my home and I was protectin' myself. Nah, fuck that! Them crazy bitches wasn't gettin' in.

Rosa kicked the bottom of the door. "Bring ya ass outside, then. 'Cause I'ma fuck you up, Kat. You came for the wrong bitch, sweetie."

"Rosa," my moms said through her clenched teeth. "Don't make a scene out here. I didn't drive all the way over here to get arrested. This ain't the projects."

"I don't give a fuck," Rosa replied loudly. "This bitch is too goddamn grown, Juanita. And it's time she gets her face cracked in. Kat, you got an ass whoopin' comin' so you might as well come outside and get it now while it's hot. And if I gotta stand out this bitch all motherfuckin' night, then that's what it is." She grabbed the door handle and started yankin' on it. "Bring ya ass outside, you fuckin' disrespectful bitch. You got me confused. I ain't ya Aunt Patrice. When I get my hands on you, you gonna wish ya ass was dead."

"Oh, really," I said, pullin' my nickel-plated 9mm from behind my back. Both of their eyes popped wide open in shock.

"Oh, my God," my moms said through clenched lips, slappin' her hand over her mouth.

Rosa let go of the door. "You'd pull a gun out on your own fuckin' mother? I done seen it all now," Rosa said, flingin' her hands up in the air. "Dios mios! I don't fuckin' believe this shit."

"I sure would. So believe it. And I'll fuckin' use it, too. Try me. Now both of you bitches get the fuck up off my property or you'll be leavin' up outta here in either handcuffs or body bags, take ya pick." Although I would never call five-oh on my own family—I don't care how serious shit got—I hoped one of the nosey-ass neighbors would. And I really didn't wanna put a bullet in either one of 'em, but I knew in my heart I would if they pressed me.

The porch light to the house on the left came on, then the lights to the house on the other side flicked on. My moms looked around. "Let's go, Rosa," she said, grabbin' Rosa by the arm.

She snatched her arm back. "No, Nita, your child needs a beat down first."

"I ain't a fuckin' child," I snapped. "I'm a grown-ass woman. Get it right."

"I knew this was a bad idea," my moms said. "I told you she wasn't gonna let us in."

"Then maybe you shoulda came by yourself," I said, keepin' my aim at them.

"And would that have made any difference?" she asked, starin' me in the eyes.

"Hell no," I said. "'Cause I want nothin' to do with you." For the first time in my life, I thought I saw hurt in her eyes. But that shit didn't matter. What about all the times she hurt me? Fuck her! The truth is what it is. "Um, I think you betta get goin' 'cause the cops are on their way. And since neither of you are invited here, it's called trespassin'. Now, like I said before, get the fuck off my property." I slammed the door in their faces.

I heard glass smash and knew Rosa punched or kicked, or threw somethin' at, the storm door. It took e'erything in me not to run outside and jump on that bitch's back, but I knew she'd have her razor spit out in her hand and would have me sliced from one end to the next before I knew what hit me. I already knew goin' out there meant I'd have to straight-up blast her head off. "Crazy bitch," I heard her yell. "The minute you step 'cross the bridge, bitch, I'ma see ya ass. I put that on ya grandfather's grave. Nita, I don't know where the fuck you got her from, but that bitch takes the grand prize for crazy. Can you believe she pulled a gun on us? A fuckin' gun! Oh, my God, wait 'til I tell everyone this shit!"

Rosa's nutty ass screamed at the top of her lungs all the way back to my mom's Benz. I flipped open my cell and called Chanel, watchin' them pull off outta the livin' room window.

"Hey, ho, what's good?"

"You not gonna fuckin' believe who came up over here tryna set shit off?"

"Who?" she asked, gettin' amped.

"My fuckin' moms and her nutty-ass sister, Rosa."

"Unh-uh, say it ain't so. I know you didn't let them in, did you?"

"Hell no, I didn't let them nuts in. I spoke to them hoes through the glass door; are you fuckin' kiddin'? I already knew what time it was. Please. They wasn't gettin' up in here fuckin' up my shit."

"So what happened?" she asked. I took a deep breath, then broke the story down to her from beginnin' to end. "Oh, my God, bitch, I can't believe you pulled a gun out on 'em. That shit is crazy."

"Well, believe it. I was gonna put some heat in that ass before they got up in here tryna serve me. Fuck that." I paused, openin' the front door. There was glass shattered all down between the doors. "This fuckin' bitch done kicked the glass outta my door, retarded ho," I said, slammin' the door shut. "Anyway, I don't think my moms was really tryna bring it, but Rosa's ass was ready to serve it for real, for real. You shoulda seen her ass foamin' at the mouth 'n shit, lookin' like Cujo. I was too through with them bitches, comin' here tryna fuck up my high."

She started laughin'. "Kat, ya crazy ass is going straight to hell. You do know that, right?"