Upstate Hustle

by Tasha Goins

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

A young woman, eager for a way to escape the powerlessness she felt as a child, discovers that her new life presents its own set of challenges.

Abandoned by a man she barely knew and neglected by her alcoholic mother, the stakes were already stacked against Bella Goins. Faced with many struggles growing up, Bella was enticed by the power of the street. Trying to control the men in her life, she gets caught up in the dirt and grime of the dope game and quickly finds herself dancing with the devil. Will Bella turn away from the game before it's too late? Or will the streets swallow her alive?

Release date: April 23, 2024

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

It was Saturday, and like clockwork, my mom and I visited her boyfriend, Jake, who was in prison. I was the only one that was forced to go to the visits; my brother David spent most of his time in the streets, and my brother Sammy spent his time on a football field. Both were rarely home during the day, so I had no choice but to go with her. Jake was currently serving a 15-year sentence, but I was always confused about how they met, since he was already in jail. My mom would just say they had mutual friends that hooked them up.

For two years, my mom dragged me back and forth with her on these visits. I hated coming to this place, especially on the weekends. I just wanted to chill with my friends, but I always ended up here with them, playing solitaire for eight straight hours. I felt the frustration weighing down on me while we were both searched by officers before the visit. After being searched, I was ready to go. The embarrassment I felt was never worth the time. But my mother didn’t seem to mind. After her search, an officer always handed her a pink slip before we were allowed to walk into the gated area that leads into the prison.

We stood for a few moments, waiting for the door to open. My mother looked down at me and smiled before whispering, “Okay, Bella. We ’bout to go inside. You know what you have to do, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I sit on the left side of the picnic table, directly in front of y’all, making sure I block the officer’s view.” I sighed heavily.

Ignoring my distress, she adjusted her short, flared red skirt and said, “Good job, babe.”

The metal door behind us slammed closed, causing my stomach to start doing cartwheels as we waited for the gate to open. Once I heard the loud buzz alerting us that the front door of the prison was going to open, the thought of what was about to go down next made me sick.

There was another, shorter hallway we walked down that led us to the visiting area. As we walked in, all I could see were gray concrete walls wallpapered with rule posters and a small room to the left where they collected any care packages the families wanted to give the inmates. We continued to walk right past the bathrooms to the front desk that was in an open area looking out toward the inmates and their families.

The tables were square with metal chairs in rows placed in the center of the room, with multiple vending machines against the wall. The stench of cheap perfume mixed with funk invaded my nostrils. Covering my nose, I glanced up at mom as she handed her pink slip to the officer.

The officer grabbed the slip and picked up the phone. “Send inmate 16B0485 for a visit,” he said as his voice vibrated through the room. Have a seat over there,” he directed as he hung up the phone.

We found a place to sit as my mother pulled a full plastic bag of quarters out of her purse. “Here, Bella. Go and get you something to eat and drink,” she said, handing me a handful of quarters out of the plastic bag.

“Okay,” I said, holding out my hands as she placed the coins in my palms. Before I could finish filling my pockets, my mother gave me stern instructions.

“Bella, I’m going to get Jake’s food. Come right back here and sit down when you’re done until I get back,” she said with narrowing eyes.

“Okay,” I responded before I went on a journey to get enough snacks for what I thought I needed. After grabbing a soda, two candy bars, a few bags of chips, and a hard roll turkey sub, I went back to our table to wait for my mom.

I waited about a good thirty minutes before Mom would return. She would always get Jake the same thing every week: wings, a barbecued rib sandwich, a Twix, two bags of popcorn, and two sodas. After she placed the items on the table, she would cover them with a napkin until he came out.

“Ma, can I go and get a deck of cards?” I asked before she walked off again.

“Yeah, come right back because he should be out shortly, and we are going outside.”

“Okay,” I said, dreading the next few hours. Lowering my head in defeat, I walked back to the front desk with a deck of cards from the same officer who had checked us in. He was currently reading a magazine. “Excuse me, sir. May I have a pack of cards?”

Looking at me, he said, “Sure,” as he reached over and pulled the cards out of the left drawer. “Make sure you bring them back before you leave,” he ordered in a baritone voice as he handed me the cards.

“Okay,” I replied before joining my mother back at the table as we continued to wait for him to come out.

About twenty minutes later, Jake walked out from behind a thick gray metal door into the family room. Jake stepped into the visitors’ room looking like your average inmate. His long, black hair was cut in a mullet and slicked straight back into a ponytail. His skin had a tannish highlight due to the fact he was mixed with Indian, German, and Black. Jake’s state-issued greens were always creased to a tee, and his state-issued boots were always clean. He was looking fly under the circumstances. His pants had a makeshift hole in them, but I never saw it. I would hear my mom brag about the hole in his pants to her friend. It always stuck out to me as goofy.

We were sitting down until he got to the table. Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I got up and prepared to walk outside. I put the deck of cards and candy bars in my back pockets, one soda in each front pocket, and I carried the rest.

“Hey, babe, you look good,” he said, smacking my mom on the ass.

“Thank you, babe.” She smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hey, Bella, You gettin’ taller every time I see you,” Jake said, gently rubbing the small of my back.

Putting on the fakest smile possible, I dryly spoke, “Hey, Jake. Thanks,” as I wiggled a bit for him to move his hand. My mom and Jake picked up their food, and I followed them through the side door to the picnic area outside. Jake walked the yard like a superstar on the catwalk as he waved and nodded his head to everyone we passed. There was an officer sitting in a tall wooden chair with a ladder along the side that towered over the yard. Our eyes briefly made contact as we walked by. I waved and smiled. He nodded in response, then spoke to Jake.

“What’s up, Jake.”

“Same shit, different day, Jackson.” He smiled as we continued to our table.

It was sunny outside as chatter from different people echoed around us. Once we got to the last picnic table on the left, I pulled everything out of my pockets and set them on the table before sitting down on the bench to eat. My mom and Jake sat down across from me and started nibbling too. Jake tried to make small talk with me before turning all his attention to my mom. Once I was finished with half of my snack, I straddled the bench, picking up the deck of cards, and I started playing solitaire to distract myself from their conversation.

After about thirty minutes, my mom let out a slight moan. We ain’t even been outside an hour yet, I thought, lowering my head in embarrassment. I tried my hardest to focus on the cards and not watch, but it was unavoidable.

“Ahhh . . . Jake . . . mmm,” she whispered in a low tone.

I looked over at the guard nervously, then back at my mom and Jake. I watched in disgust as she raised her hand to her mouth and casually spit in it, then placed her hand back underneath the table. Within minutes, Jake’s face softened, and his eyes briefly stayed focused on me before rolling completely closed. All I could do was sit in silence, repeatedly flipping the cards over with an insincere smile on my face. Before long, I heard Jake let out a heavy sigh, then like magic, they were back to normal, talking about random things for the next few hours.

“Ma, can I go get another soda and use the bathroom?”

“Yes, hold on.” she said before turning her attention back to Jake. “Babe, I’m about to take her to the bathroom and get her another soda. Do you want anything?” she asked him as we got up to go back inside the building.

“Naw, I’m good. Hurry yo’ fine ass up.” he replied before smacking the back of her thigh.

As we walked back, I said, “Ma, I’m ready to go. How much longer will we be here? It’s hot, and I don’t like the way he looks at me.”

“Not much longer, and he ain’t looking at no little girl when he has all of this grown woman,” she said, turning up her nose.

I rolled my eyes and sucked my teeth, then walked in silence with her back to the main building. The bathroom was open, with one toilet, one sink, and metal box on the wall. A large black garbage can sat between the sink and a plastic changing table that hung off the wall. My mom placed her purse on the sink before lining the toilet with toilet paper. “Here, hurry up and use it, girl.”

My stomach started to hurt as I sat down on the toilet seat. My mom was in the mirror, fixing her makeup and hair. Looking down, I noticed a red stain in my panties, and I started crying out.

“Ma . . . Ma, come here.”

“What’s wrong, Bella?” she said, looking at me through the mirror.

“Look, Ma,” I said, pulling my pants down to my knees so she could see the blood in my underwear.

“You gotta be kidding me. Bella. Hold on,” she barked, placing her lipstick back in her purse. She then grabbed her bag of quarters. Pulling out a quarter, she walked over to the metal box. Placing the quarter inside the slot, she then turned the metal lever clockwise, and a box slid out of the dispenser. She opened the box and pulled out the pad and placed it in my underwear, covering the blood.

“Wipe yourself good and come on and wash your hands.”

“Okay,” I said, wiping myself. I pulled my pants and underwear up, then flushed the toilet. Walking over to the sink, I washed and dried my hands while my mother used the bathroom. Wiping herself and fixing her clothes, she flushed the toilet and walked over to the sink to wash and dry her hands with a solid crease across her forehead. She was pissed, and I could tell.

“You have perfect timing,” she said as we walked out of the bathroom. We headed back outside to the table in silence. Once we arrived, she gave Jake a look.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a look of concern.

“We gotta cut this short. Bella had an accident,” she said with a look of defeat.

“Accident? What kind of an accident?” Jake asked, narrowing his eyes, confused.

“Female problems,” she said, looking over at me.

“Ooooh, okay. I don’t even know why you keep bringing her. Now our day is ruined,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

“Jake, don’t be that way. I will see you next Saturday,” she said.

Stepping back, he said, “Take her home. I got other shit I can do inside,” before walking off.

I looked at my mom. She was holding back the tears as she gathered the trash on the table. “Bella, help me clear this table so we can go.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, doing as I was told. Once the table was clear, I looked to my mother and said, “I’m sorry to ruin your day.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said, wiping the tears from each cheek. “Let’s go.”

When we arrived home, we pulled into the driveway. Before getting out of the car, my mother said, “Go take a bath and change your clothes when we get in this house, Bella. I’m about to change and go to the bar.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied as we got out of the car and headed to the back door. I hated how the apartment was covered in old, dark green shingles. It was ugly, but big inside. We stayed downstairs, and my mom’s best friend, Mary, stayed upstairs. She and her husband owned the house, and we moved in about three years ago, right before he got arrested for his second DUI. Mary and my mom became close friends after that.

As I walked in the back door of the dimly lit apartment, the smell of stale cigarettes with a faint stench of booze amongst the funk impacted my nose. My brother’s bedroom was to the right just before we entered the kitchen. The only light that could be seen came from the television in the distance, which sat on a big black stand in front of the living room window. Walking ahead of me, my mother turned on the kitchen light, placing her purse on the counter before heading to her room. “Oh, and Bella, don’t forget to wash your underwear and hang them up when you’re done.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

“Your brothers should be home soon. Make yourself a sandwich till then,” she said, walking into her bedroom.

Our house was spacious for a two-bedroom on the north side of the city, but there was always a messy clutter somewhere. My brother’s room door was open. I could smell their stank-ass socks. I hurried up trying to close the door, but their trash and clothes stopped me. Glancing in, I shook my head. As I turned around, I walked through the kitchen into the dining room. Last week’s laundry was still piled on our wooden dining room table.

The dining room was large enough that my mom divided it into two sides with a brown wicker divider. My daybed sat on the far left side near the window, with my clothes and toys scattered on the bed and floor. At the end of my bed sat a closet, which was used as storage, and across from that was the bathroom we all shared. Not more than five steps outside of my room sat the living room and then the front door. Across from that was my mother’s room, which had a door that connected her room to the bathroom.

Walking over to turn off the TV, I froze as breaking news flashed across the screen. The white lady’s next set of words blew my mind.

“Breaking news: There has been a murder-suicide in Niagara Falls.” I stood as the news anchor continued to speak. “This evening, fifty-year-old Willie Goins is dead—”

Once I heard the name Willie Goins, my heart dropped. I turned up the television, while calling my mother to the living room. “Ma . . . come look at the TV!” I yelled, bracing myself for her reaction to the news of his death.

I had just seen him briefly last week, for the first time in years. I walked into the house from my friend’s birthday party, and there he was, sitting on the couch and talking to my mother like he’d never left. I had no clue he even knew where we lived. He was in bad shape and looked nothing like the coward that had boldly left his family behind so many years ago for some pussy. The memories I had of him were not great. My parents argued and fought all the time. My dad ended up leaving my mom when I was six years old for Tracey, my babysitter.

My mom was a nervous wreck after that. She started drinking heavily and using drugs regularly. My dad barely came back around the family, rarely called, and never sent money. For me, the man I knew as my father died the day he left us.

There was no love lost for him from me, but I sympathized with the fact that my mother and brothers would not take this news well. They had experienced him as a loving father. I never got that experience nor connection with him.

A few minutes later, my mom came into the living room. “What?” she yelled, turning on the light. “Bella, do you hear me? What?”

“Look,” I said, pointing to the TV screen as the rest of the news anchor’s words echoed through the room.

“After fatally shooting his ex-girlfriend, thirty-year-old Tracey Williams, Goins turned the gun on himself. We don’t have any further information at this time,” she said before cutting to the next story.

“Oh my God,” she cried as tears started to roll down her cheeks at the devastating news. A flood of emotions came over me, not for him, but for my mother’s pain. For me, all the years of unanswered questions would forever remain unanswered by a man who never acknowledged me as his. A man that missed every birthday, every skinned knee, and anything else I ever did. I couldn’t understand how she had so much sadness for a man that left her and her kids for dead.

The news of his death spread like wildfire around the city. About a week later, friends and family came together in a homegoing ceremony to celebrate his life. I was shocked to see so many people in attendance. As much as I felt like I should cry, my emotions wouldn’t allow me to shed a tear for a man who was never around.

After his funeral, life went back to normal. It was now Friday, and I was getting dressed to go outside when the phone rang. Jumping off my bed, I ran to the kitchen to answer it.

“Hello.”

“Bella, we are going to visit Jake in the morning, so don’t be out playing too late,” Momma said.

“Okayy.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Ma, can I go with Sammy to the field? I don’t want to go this Saturday.” It was bad enough that school was getting ready to start in a few weeks. I had the worst summer vacation ever because every Saturday I was stuck in that place with them.

“I will think about it, girl. And tell David to make you guys some grits and eggs. Where is Sammy?”

“Sammy went to practice, and David ain’t here.”

“Where is David?” she asked, sucking her teeth.

“I don’t know. David ain’t never here like that no more,” I replied, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder as I twisted my fingers in the phone cord.

Sighing heavily into the phone, she said, “I swear . . . Okay, make you a bowl of cereal or something till later. And tell his ass to call me when he gets home, ’cause he ain’t grown. He just don’t come and go as. . .