While my son was capitalizing on my desire to be his mother, something was brewing back home in California that would further disrupt my peace, and my money. Out of the blue, I received a call from my niece. This was the first call I had ever received from her. In fact, I had only seen her a few times in her life. “Hi, auntie. Uncle gave me your number. Sorry to bother you with this, but, I need help.” I was used to getting calls from other family members, but this one was different. “Auntie, I’m a prostitute and I don’t know how to get out!”
What! Wait! I had enough on my plate with my son, I didn’t deserve this call. I had six other siblings that lived in California with my niece. Why are they giving her my number? Why aren’t they stepping up? I told her she needed to go to her mother for help. She said she had gone to her mother, but my sister told her the home belonged to her boyfriend and that she couldn't let her live there. Her mom said the spare room in their home was reserved for her boyfriend’s daughter if she ever needed to move back. She then called one of my brothers. He offered her a couple of hundred dollars, but he was unable to house her. So, he gave her my number. Which was odd, because we had another brother who lived in the same city as them with a five bedroom house, of which only he and his wife lived in. She said she tried him too, but he said no.
She began begging me to take a chance on her. She said, the MLK weekend was coming up and her pimp wanted her to work all three days on skid row. She claimed she was calling me from the hospital because she wasn't feeling well, and it was the only way to get space from her pimp. This was all too much for me to take in. I was already dealing with a lot. I offered to buy her a round-trip ticket to visit me for one week. That way she would have time to speak with her mother again. She said her mother was clear, that she couldn’t live with her. I asked her if her mother knew she was prostituting; she said, yes.
“Auntie, please, it’s dangerous out here. I don’t want to sell my body anymore. I’m scared to leave the hospital with him. Please auntie, please.” I felt pressure, not just from her words, but by the idea that something bad could happen to her if I didn’t help. So, I agreed to buy her a one-way ticket to Atlanta to get her off of the streets. It never occurred to me that the streets were actually in her.
S
Comments