Chapter 5 A Doll In Sight (Avarice James)

The years she lived before the birth of her daughter were sad ones. At least she convinced herself of that. After Kayak Burke left her she slept with men to find her place in the world, she selfishly gave away the nectar of her honey to use them...defile them...to drain them dry of their resources to help her on her journey. The act of love making has died in her soul.

The thought of making men fall in love with the biorhythms of her vagina was climatic, potent and cunningly real.

She loved taking what wasn't hers. She refused to realize her psychosexual state of mind was set on propelling her growth as she continued to grow up and mature, yet she indirectly and unknowingly rushed it, acting out what she saw in her environment when she was growing up. In the beginnings of her life Haiti wasn't what she wished it to be.

Her little friends lived in poverty and she always had a hot meal in her tummy just before her parents hastily tucked her in at night. She slept on silk and cotton, deported from Puerto Rico.

Her friends had to cover up with worn, dirty jackets and pray to a God that seemed to ignore their pleas for food, help and nurturing.

Seeing all the drugs and illiteracy in Haiti had changed her. She made a vow to say NO to drugs and she had, up until her life started spinning out of control and drug use seemed to be a sweet escape.

Her Chronological Age was set at 18 but her Mental Age was 5, which was understandable because after the traumatic event she faced as a kid, she stopped mentally growing around that age...back when she was brutally attacked by vicious pit-bulls.

The dogs belonged to her step father, Miles, who bred dogs just to make money entering them into dog fights all over the muggy, muddy ghettos of Haiti.

The act itself was unlawful, but he bought a house, three cars and a shitload of clothes off the winnings and provided his family a better life than those who lived in Port Au Prince.

There was a pricey Olympic-sized pool in the back of mangroves, oaks and tall evergreens. Miles loved his step children. He had a name for her. It was "Flower."

Flower never wanted for anything. She had a room filled with pricey drapes, curtains, bed linens, furniture and walls of dolls! Yes! All four walls were loaded with hanging dolls.

As for her sister Rosa, a startling beauty, she didn't have the best of everything. In comparison, Rosa's room had black drapes, black curtains and black walls.

There wasn't a doll in sight. The floors were mildewed and her room was located behind the house, next to a small cemetery and she had to go to bed hearing the voices of the ghost and ghouls and goblins that hid under her bed.

When Flower tried to talk and play with Rosa, nicknamed "Dark Rose," she would say mean, malicious things to her and Rosa meant everything she said.

You have the best of everything...why were you bothering her, she figured. She never understood why Rosa got the evil end of things, but it was quickly forgotten.

The more she played with her dolls the happier she was. She became one with them, confiding in them...building a bond with them she should have built with her sister Rosa.

Inevitably, this would bring about their ruin...the sisterly love would be crushed like a bug under a sharecroppers boot and dried like a raisin in the sun.

Life in Haiti wasn't a walk in the park. In fact her grandmother periodically lived with them because her mother, Pauline, was always running the streets, doing the devil's work, despite playing the Mother of Mary role in the eyes of society.

Mozart bringing her back down from Jupiter, she smiled now, thinking about that time period as the rain built back into the torrent affair it has been all day. It rained so hard she couldn't see the parked cars or the looming mall ahead.

She remembered sneaking out into her backyard when Rosa was sleeping. She just wanted to play with the dogs.

They were so adorable! She had tons of baby dolls and pretty toys but she wanted the dogs. Can I become one with them? In her hand she had bloody steaks.

She remembered Miles telling her mother "I don't feed the dogs, and when I do I feed them raw meat. So by the time fighting competition comes up they are so fixed on appeasing their appetites all they see is blood."

She remembered waiting until her parents were sleeping before she went outside. Her parents forbade her from going into the back by herself around the swimming pool and the dogs in the man-made cages that was filled and smelled of feces.

The illegally-bred dogs, three of them, had eleven pound steel ball chains tightly hugging their bulging necks.

Rummaging through their thick veins were steroids. Salivating at the mouths, they eyed her as she naively smiled and talked to them. Her heart pumped wildly. She was so excited! She just loved dogs!

"Here doggy doggy! I brought you something to eat! I can't wait to play with the doggy! I just love dogs!"

Inside, unknowing to Flower, Miles, who was mixed with Japanese and Haitian, and her mother Pauline, a

Haitian nurse, were making love.

He was gripping her amazing breasts, tongue kissing her, flowing into her emotionally and physically as she wrapped her legs around his sweaty waist, digging her nails into his back every time he pumped his eleven inches into a hole too tight and small to handle what he had.

But she loved it. Releasing her inhibitions, she came over and over again, vowing to get pregnant and to birth his child! After all, any man with stroking ability of its own design deserved a living and breathing child in the process.

The hell if she would go through endless hospital visits and unbearable hours of labor for a man who couldn't stroke vaginal walls like a dentist tool between teeth or rock the boat through ravenous seas to the shores of America.

Outside, the Little Dog Lover set the pan of meat on the ground..

Overrunning with blood.