Woman at the Top of the Stairs Read online

  Chapter Two

  Like I said before, I’m not one to get into other folks’ business, but the more I tried to ignore Zenobia and Percy, the more I thought about them. I started getting angry all over again - the anger Zenobia should have felt instead of still accepting that bullshit from Percy.

  Needless to say, she figured out a way to get enough money to bail his ass out after a few days. I saw her struggling to get the television out of the house so I figured she hocked that. Ain’t no telling what else she had to sell to free her man, but she did it. He came back and it wasn’t long before they were right back fighting. At the rate they were going, that fool wouldn’t even make it to his court date to answer the charges for beating her ass this last time. If he wasn’t careful, somebody would be calling the police on his ass again for all the gattdamn noise they were keeping up with that bullshit.

  The next time I saw Zenobia she looked as bad as she did that day I spoke with her on the steps. I couldn’t say anything. I just walked pass her feeling awful like I had done something wrong. She tried to make eye contact behind dark sunglasses, but I kept walking. Trust me I kicked myself for a while after that. Where was this guilt coming from? She was so not my responsibility. Zenobia was a grown ass woman, and she needed to find her way like I did. Besides, trying to leave him wasn’t gone work until she got sick and tired of being sick and tired. Yeah, yeah, I know that shit is cliché, but those who are going through the kind of pain and suffering she’s going through – the kind of bullshit I went through - know that there is a lot of truth to that old saying.

  It goes without saying that I didn’t sleep good that night either. I tossed and turned reliving my own pain and feeling the pain I knew Zenobia was going through. I felt like I had somehow betrayed her trust and the unspoken bond we had as sisters in the struggle. I know that’s crazy, but that’s how I felt.

  After a few nights of battling my own demons and hearing the spillover from the apartment downstairs, I knew I had to do something. But what? I was a stranger! She didn’t know me. She didn’t know if she could trust me. What could I possibly do or say that someone much closer to her had not already tried to do or say? I already reached out to her once, and that didn’t seem to go so well. She had to have some family somewhere that knows what’s going on with her. I’m sure they tried to talk to her before and help her. Obviously she didn’t listen to them. So what would make her listen to me?

  I decided that the best thing for me to do was just stay out of it. I know that sounds real fucked up, but hell, I didn’t know what more I could do. Percy hadn’t killed her, and she hadn’t hit rock bottom either.

  So I did just that. I stayed in my lane. I kept my nose to the grindstone and the radio up loud enough to drown out the noise so I could try and sleep at night. That part was not so easy. I continued to toss and turn. Hearing Zenobia struggle with her demon kept agitating and reawakening the demons of my past. Hearing her screaming and begging Percy to stop reminded me of all those times I did the same thing. It was like I was reliving my past through nightmares spawned by the actions of the folks who lived underneath me. The feelings of hurt and anger I thought I had left behind when I finally got away from Mac were resurfacing. Those feelings became harder and harder to shake.

  One morning I traipsed down the fifteen steps to retrieve my mail. The mail system was the one thing I didn’t like about apartment living. Why weren’t there individual slits in the door so the mail could be delivered right into the apartment? That would make life so much easier. Climbing up and down those steps just to get a bill or a piece of junk mail got old for me real quick. Worse than that, I always had to make sure I had on some clothes before checking my mail. It would be wrong of me to go flouncing down there in my nightie, now wouldn’t it? The whole thing was just one big aggravation.

  As I rounded the bend in the stairwell to descend the last few steps, I heard a door opening and then closing on the hallway. I didn’t turn to see who it was. My goal was to get the mail and get back to the comforts of my own apartment. I made it to the line of mailboxes, took out my key and opened my box. Putting names on the outside boxes was a violation of privacy – the one good thing about the mail system. I started sorting through my mail – junk, junk, bill, junk, junk - when I heard someone behind me.

  “Morning,” the voice said. It was a male voice that I immediately recognized as the hairs on the back of my neck started to bristle. I contemplated not responding, and waited a long time before I said anything. Just hearing his voice made my damn stomach turn.

  “Morning Percy,” I replied making no effort to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. If he didn’t know I despised him, my tone was surely an indication. Just being that close to the cowardly bastard made my fucking skin crawl.

  “Haven’t seen Zenobia in a while, how is she?” I asked turning to look him dead in his dark vacant eyes. I had no interest in him as a person – he was actually less than human - but I wanted him to know that his beating on that girl was no fucking secret. We all knew the things he had done to her.

  I stared at him coldly. Fucking coward!

  I could tell he hadn’t expected the question. He dropped his gaze when I asked.

  “Oh…ummmm…she’s fine,” he replied stammering.

  “I hope so,” I shot back without blinking. I wanted to say more but I didn’t want him to take it out on her. I gathered the rest of my mail, slammed the door shut, locked the box and turned away from him without giving him a second look. It goes without saying that my blood was absolutely boiling by the time I reached the top stair. I closed the door to my apartment so hard that the walls shook. I threw the mail on the table and found myself pacing the floor back and forth like a caged animal. I was completely incensed. Why did that man aggravate me so? All he did was speak to me. Ugh!!! A part of me hated him for what he was doing to Zenobia. The other part of me hated him because he reminded me so much of the man I used to be head over heels for. I think what got me the most is that he reminded me of a time when I was invisible, and when people saw me broken and bruised they didn’t or couldn’t do anything to help me. He reminded me of the fact that for the longest time, I wasn’t even able to help my damn self. I was seething. Before I realized it, I was plotting his demise. I had it all figured out in a matter of moments. The thought was frightening and satisfying at the same time. I had to snap myself out of my thoughts and try to calm myself down. It took longer than I thought…