Do You Know A Carlos? PT II

>>PART I

>>Now for PART II...

I look up the bill and sure enough there are a bunch of calls to DR.
NO calls from there.

“Ok, so what you gonna do if he did call her?” I ask…stalling.

“Do you feel safe around him?” still stalling…

“I know your feelings are running amok, but what will happen to you emotionally if you let him come back just to watch your daughter?” still…

“And you don’t got no brothers to whup his azz or nothin’?” still…

“Are you afraid to tell me what’s on the bill?” she says, in an eerily calm voice.

Deep breath. “Ok what you wanna know?”

“Did he call her on Sept 12, the day he got out of jail? 809 area code.”

“He called her at 3:32 pm, and then again at 3:42.”

“I knew it.”

I’m looking thru the phone bill, blogger fam, and dude was quite liberal with the chit chat.

“Most of the calls are at midnight or around then. And they’re also for only like 5, 9 minutes. The longest call is only like 15 minutes. And it wasn’t on no, “Call me right back” either, bec there are no incoming calls afterwards.”

“Any 800 numbers?” she asks.

“Oh calling cards. Nope.” [I later found 2 quick ones]

“I fcuking knew it. This whole time he was telling me that she was the one calling him. What the fcuk is he even doing with a 17 year old? What the hell do they have to talk about?”

“And you know what, he didn’t call at all the entire month of November.” I announce.

“Fa real?” A glimmer of hope. I could hear it. But she kept it real. “Whatever. At least now I know. I asked him what she had that I don’t and he said that honestly it was a bullshit little relationship, just him calling and saying ‘hi, how’s the weather’ cuz he would never leave his child out there like that. But still, he threw away our family for a little girl. Bought her a damn cell phone so he could call her. He is 39, and he said, ‘she’s young, she’s not gonna like me for long. I’m getting older, looking older. She don’t want me.’”

“How old are you?” I ask.

“29.”

“Awww. Me too.”

“Wow. I swear I cant believe I’m talking to a complete stranger. Im so sorry.”

“Mami. You’re good.”

We sat on the phone for 2 and a half hours. Two women bound by an errant text msg. I had her read me the text I sent and turns out I thought I was texting a friend in Philly as I was driving thru.

I was struck by how different our lives were…yet how easily that could have been my life, my man’s phone, my dilemma, my burden. I thought about a very good friend of mine, whose story is not far from this one.

“Well you have my number now. Don’t be afraid to use it again,” I say and mean it.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you looking up his bill for me. I’m gonna download A.dobe tomorrow so I can see it for myself. But thank you.”

“Good luck, girl. I know you will make a way to get back to work and take care of your baby.”

“Thank you so much. I can’t believe you actually talked to me for this long. Thank you.”


You know the part on the Brady Bunch after the last commercial, but right before the end credits...that one last 30 second punchline?…well, this is it…


The next day I went online and looked up Autism day care facilities in Brooklyn. I found a site, emailed the director and the next morning got a response.

I called Mami to give her the info.

As the phone was ringing I realized I was calling HIS phone. I didn’t have her number.

She answered. Surprised to hear from me. Grateful for the info. Turns out she did some more digging and found a spot around her way that might take her daughter.

She’s a lot more stable, now that she knows the deal. She confronted Carlos with a copy of his phone bills. He did the typical Trife Negro move and tried to turn it around on her…accusing her of invading his privacy, threatening to tell the cops that she stole his phone.

Son, how did you get the copies…did you violate the order of protection?

That shut him up.

Obviously she’s heartbroken. But she’s prepared to move on.

But there’s a little piece of me that hopes she’ll call me again and tell me that she’s back to work and back to life.