Renegade: Teen Sex Trade Part Two

LETTING GO

I awoke to a female nurse nudging my shoulder. It was time to check my pad again to see if I was bleeding ‘normally’ after the abortion I’d just had almost an hour ago. The bleeding had lessened and I was free to go. My boyfriend, Carma, came to pick me up. We didn’t talk much on the way back to my house where I was still staying with one of my best friends, Daneen and her family. He dropped me off and said he had to do something but that he would be back later. I was angry; my heart was angry. I went into my room, not wanting to be bothered by anyone. I lay in my bed, adopting the fetal position. I couldn’t bear the pain from the cramps. I cried to myself.

A couple of hours later, Carma came back. He brought me a strawberry sundae from McDonalds. I hate to see you in so much pain, he said. He sat on the edge of my bed and rubbed my back before he sat down beside me, his back against my headboard. He put my head in his lap. Cramps shot through my belly and sharp pains ran through my back. I shuddered. Even I felt that one, Carma said. I don’t remember what we talked about as we lay there. Eventually he left and I was alone again. I grabbed some Tylenol 3s from the kitchen cabinet and drifted back into sleep.

Carma was turning nineteen just over a month after my birthday. It was somewhere between my birthday and his that I broke up with him (again). I’d been resenting him since the abortion. I still wanted to build a life with him—to be his wife, business partner, and the mother of his child. Despite the roller coaster that we always seemed to be on, I was his. I wanted him to be mine and only mine, but it all felt so far away. He’d already said that he wasn’t ready for a child. Oftentimes, he’d say, You gotta stay down to come up. This meant that I had to put in the work and time necessary to secure my future with him. Up until then, I had been down for that. I had always been his ride or die girl, his "down ass bitch." He had confirmed that the night he told me to have sex with Jaylin in order to prove my loyalty to him—and I did it.

His words from that night echoed in my brain. He kept telling me how real I was. You’re the boss girl. I ain't never leaving you, he said. I thought he meant it. I wanted to believe that he knew how much I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life with him but right then it seemed impossible.

He just doesn’t understand, I told one of my best friends, Cadence. She had always been my voice of reason— my connection to the outside world, to reality. It was her who ignited my first attempt to leave Carma, reminding me of my worth. Cadence faithfully remained in the backdrop of my complicated life, offering support and a listening ear whenever I needed it. I kept her separate, not only as an escape from reality, but also because Carma didn’t like her.

I don’t want to hear about that girl. She don’t know how to speak, he said. What he was really saying was that she didn’t go out of her way to initiate a conversation with him, like some other girls would, and that offended him.

The memories of the last four years of my life weighed heavy on my soul, specifically the night Carma and I discussed the STI that I had contracted. I could still see the color leave his eyes as he choked me. It looked as if he’d left himself, the same way I had done while servicing my clients in the dimly lit rooms of the massage parlor. I conveyed this memory to my best friend. I was tired. I was so, so tired.

Listen, Jade. I know you probably don’t want to hear this but I’m going to say it anyway as your friend. Carma is going to kill you one day. The way you just explained him choking you sounds like he doesn’t know his own strength and I feel like one day he could potentially kill you. Even if he doesn’t, you have to understand that until you leave him, he will never be the man that you want him to be. He’s not capable of doing that right now. He’s too busy chasing money. You have to leave him so he can understand that you’re not just going to take all of his bullshit. One day he’s going to look back and see that you’re the only girl who ever really loved him and he’s going to regret how he treated you. Maybe one day he’ll come back and apologize and maybe then you guys can build a life together but right now, that’s not going to happen. You need to leave him, Jade.

Finally, it clicked and I knew she was right, even though it hurt like hell. Everything I worked for meant nothing. The relationship I’d invested in was about to go down the drain, but I knew she was right.

I’m gonna leave him, I told her.

Good. Are you gonna call him or text him? she asked.

I’m gonna text him first ‘cause I don’t know how he’s gonna respond. He’s probably gonna go crazy, I said.

Okay, boo. Call me back after you talk to him and let me know what he says.

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath. I can’t do this, I told myself. I loved him way too much. I hung my head in defeat, thinking again about the baby I’d never know—the same baby who I was convinced would be his first-born child, his first daughter. I knew she was gone but I still felt her there. I still needed her to mend the broken pieces of my failed relationship. But, he didn’t want her. It was time. I knew it was time. I opened up our message thread and started to type out my escape. "Carma, I can’t be with you anymore…"

My phone rang. It was him.

You girl, I don’t have time for your shit today, he said right away.

I’m not playing this time, I say.

So what, you’re leaving me?

I can’t do this anymore. I was so sad. I couldn’t even believe what I was saying but I was determined to say it.

So, you don’t got my back any more? he asked. I could hear how angry he was.

No, I murmured.

So, say it! Tell me that you don’t have my back anymore!

I told him exactly what he wanted to hear.

He began to yell at me, telling me that I never had his back, how I never fucking meant anything I said, how I didn’t love him and never did. I was hurt by his words but more than that, I was annoyed. I felt like I had the upper hand, based on his reaction, so I played it up.

Call me back when you’re done yelling and ready to talk, I said with staged confidence. I hung up the phone.

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath. I let out a sigh of relief. I felt nauseous but I’d done it. A few minutes later, Carma called back. I picked up.

Are you done yelling? I asked him as one would ask a child. I grinned, holding in my laugh. I felt powerful.

Yeah, you girl, he replied with a thick accent stemming from North Preston, Nova Scotia. North Preston, also known as Up Home, was the largest black community in the country. I couldn’t hear his anger anymore. He sounded calm. What’s the reason this time?

I paused. What was the reason? There were many reasons. I gave him the one at the root of them all.

I’m tired, I replied.

Tired of what, me? Carma asked.

Just everything.

So, this is it, we’re done?

Why was he repeating himself? I wondered. Yeah.

Okay then, cool. I ain’t gonna beg no one to be with me, if that’s what you want to do.

I barely had a reply.

Don’t call me anymore, Carma said. He was done going back and forth with me.

I assured him that I wouldn’t.

See ya in the movies, he said.

I pressed end on my cell phone. I looked down at my home screen, feeling nothing but emptiness. I let the pain from the last four plus years flood from my eyes as I crumbled to the floor. I managed to climb into bed and pull the covers over my shoulders. Laying on my side, I opened Cadence’s text thread.

I did it, I told her.

Oh my God, what did he say? How do you feel? she asked.

I recounted what had just happened then said, I’m going to sleep.

Okay, boo. Text me when you wake up. I’m so proud of you. I know it hurts but it’ll get better. He’ll realize one day what he lost, Cadence said.

I read her text, but I didn’t reply. I didn’t believe a word she said and I knew I would spend a lifetime waiting to see if she was right.

CHAPTER 2

A REASON TO LIVE

In the weeks that followed, I tried hard to think of a reason to live. I couldn’t name one thing. I had nothing and no one. I convinced myself that my friends would be fine without me, that they would forget about me in time and move on with their lives.

That was one complicated thought. On my ‘good’ days, my attitude said, Fuck that nigga! I would literally laugh whenever I thought of him, anticipating the day when he came running back to tell me he was sorry. When that time came, I would tell him that it was too late. I was looking forward to the day that I could break his heart, like he did mine. Even though I had called it quits on our relationship, I still missed his company and the way he took care of me. On those days, Cadence’s words felt true. He will realize one day.

There were days when reality hit me. Did I really leave this man? I’d ask myself out loud. This couldn’t be real life. No way was I really single after all these years. I felt like I was going insane! I was angry, confused, scared, and hurting. I was going through the stages of grief, hoping one day this heartache would pass. I wanted to die but somehow another day would pass and I’d find myself still alive. I went about my days as usual. School was boring and sleep was my best friend.

One weekend, one of my best friends, Daneen, invited me to a house party in Churchill. Churchill was a hood in Dartmouth that we didn’t go to very often, but we knew some of the guys from there. I decided to get dolled up and go.

Before we headed to the party, Daneen, my sister Quin, our friend Serena and I took a ton of pictures. We posed like we were Charlie’s Angels in Daneen’s bathroom mirror. We caught the bus to Churchill and pulled up at the party around midnight. I was feeling good and looking better. I decided to take Ebony’s advice and really show out. I danced my ass off all night. Carma never showed up after all.

Afterwards, Serena and Quin caught a ride back to the city. Daneen and I crashed at her homeboy’s house. We didn’t sleep much. I spent most of the night telling Daneen’s homeboy that I wasn’t fucking him and he couldn’t just eat my pussy. Despite his insistence on how good his skills were, I still refused. It wouldn’t have been worth it if Carma and I one day got back together, given Carma knew this man.

Morning came and Daneen and I took the bus back home. Once the hype from the night before wore off, my sadness returned and I was missing Carma a lot. His birthday was coming up. I decided I would use it as an opportunity to see where things stood. Happy Birthday Babydoll, I said through text. I purposely used my pet name for him to indicate that, despite everything, my love for him was still there. All I got back was a thank you.

I can’t remember if we hung out after that, had sex, or strictly stuck to texting but we’d been in touch for a short while when Serena came to my house one day.

You may want to sit down, Serena said, her face serious. I sat on my bed and looked at her. If my body hadn’t been housing my heart and stomach, both of them would have dropped on the carpet that lined my bedroom.

Kelisha is pregnant, she said, referring to another girl that Carma was involved with. Carma told me that she worked at a strip club in Moncton and was giving him her money, but I had no idea that she was pregnant. I stared at Serena blankly, standing up. Vomit collected at the back of my throat, but my anger forced it back down. I went through the motions of asking her how she knew and what other details she had. I knew it was true based on who had told her. The guy she was dating got it straight from the source—Kelisha herself.

Is she getting an abortion? I asked. She told me how her man had said there were no talks of abortion between Carma and Kelisha. She was keeping the baby. I couldn’t breathe.

Before I could process any other thoughts, I threw my phone against the wall. The back came off and the battery fell out. I paced the room before picking it back up.

Fuck man! I said loudly, I’m calling his ass!

I gotta go back home. Come over when you’re done, Serena said.

I was shaking as I called Carma. I sat back down as it rang. I had no idea what I was going to say.

Yeah, he answered.

What do you mean, yeah? I asked. I had no patience for his shit that day. He laughed.

Hi, you girl, he replied, using his typical North Preston slang. His light-hearted tone made me even more mad.

Kelisha’s pregnant? I asked, getting straight to the point.

That’s what she’s saying, he said. I was beyond frustrated with his response.

You were having her raw? I asked, referring to his lack of use of condoms.

I thought back to the night he sat on his bathroom sink counter with me standing in between his legs while Kelisha called his phone nonstop. I told him to answer but he refused.  That bitch is crazy. You better leave her alone before she traps you with a child, I had told him.

I fucking told you this would happen! I yelled.

I was having her, Carma stated rather matter of fact.

That’s not answering my question! Were you having her raw?

He repeated his answer.

Okay but did you have her without a condom? I asked in an attempt to warrant a direct response. Still nothing. Are you gonna get a DNA test? 

If I have to, he replied. I was disgusted with him.

What does that mean?

It means just what I said. If I have to. Why you worried about it anyway? Didn’t you leave me?

I almost choked. I had to put my phone on speaker so I could get my point across. One hand held my phone near my mouth and the other had a mind of its own.

What the fuck do you mean! We broke up not that long ago. You could have fucking told me instead of me having to hear it through the grapevine. Who cares if I left you! You still could have told me out your own mouth out of respect! I screamed.

Carma laughed at me.

Ah, you girl. We ain’t together, he said. I was taken aback. I made a mental note to address that comment later.

How far along is she? I asked.

Three or four months, his tone was nonchalant.

I quickly did the math in my head. It was my turn to laugh but mine was out of disbelief rather than amusement, like his seemed to be. He’d gotten me pregnant around the same time, only I had been forced to have an abortion. I could not believe what was happening. I don’t remember which one of us ended the call. I wanted to die all over again. I’d told him so many times that I could handle anything he threw my way but if he had a child with someone else, then I was done for good. After everything I put up with, I deserved to be his wife and the mother of his children. I guess that was out of the question now except, in the back of my mind, it wasn’t.

Sometime after that, I sat at Carma's kitchen table, talking to his mom, Mya.

I’ll let you know right now, a baby don’t keep a man, she said, referring to Carma and Kelisha’s unborn child.

It still didn’t feel real to me. Yet, at the same time, I couldn’t shut up about it. I had so many questions. Mostly, I wanted to know why. I mean, how could he do this to me? To us?

I also heard through the grapevine that Carma had a new girl who was working for him in Toronto on a strict ‘either you pay me or you can’t be with me’ basis.

How quickly I’ve been forgotten.

When I found out who the new girl was, I couldn’t even be mad when I remembered the way she had smiled in my face just a few months before. She asked how Carma and I were doing and if we were still together.

You guys are right cute. I don’t blame ya! she’d said after I told her that we weren’t technically together, but we would always be together.

I couldn’t be mad because before I had met Carma, I was sleeping with that girl’s boyfriend and pretending like I wasn’t whenever we ran into each other. I was lying about it and she knew. I felt dumb and hopeless because I knew that her newfound relationship with Carma, if it could be called that, was my karma for what I’d done to her.

I deserved it.

CHAPTER 3

AUGUST

I first met Robyn when I was fifteen years old at the Media Arts Program run by the staff at an organization called Leave Out Violence. As far as opposites go, Robyn was mine, but she became one of my best friends after the abortion. At the Media Arts Program (or MAP for short), I’d learned that Robyn had been severely bullied for most of her life. Our outside appearance was our biggest difference. Where my skin was golden brown, Robyn’s was pale with sprinkles of freckles on her face. I had a more muscular build and Robyn was chubby. My dark brown eyes were no match for Robyn’s hazel ones. I mentally noted that had we been born one or two generations earlier, our friendship would have been illegal, given that she was white and I was black. None of that mattered to me though. Robyn and I were two peas in a pod. I had no reservations about being seen with her or inviting her to the hood to hang out. After Carma and I split, Robyn was my peace. We were very protective of each other.

Robyn had saved me from myself and I shielded her from the outside world. My break up shot me into a confusing cycle of depression. Some days, I would be fine. I would go about my day, smiling and happy. At night, on the weekends, I’d hit the club with some of my girlfriends and take over the dance floor, hustling drinks from strangers. I’d accept shots from my homeboys, some of whom were technically Carma’s friends. Robyn introduced me to her best friend, Oliver. Oliver was fragile and timid. Sometimes I’d laugh at how strange the three of us together must look to others. Nonetheless, Oliver was fun and ridiculously smart. He was an encyclopedia of random facts. In 2012, the three of us would often go to Reflections Cabaret, the gay nightclub in downtown Halifax. At the time, it was never confirmed that Oliver was gay but I figured he might be. Robyn, on the other hand, was coming out as transgender.

She stopped going by the name Robyn and changed her name to August. She no longer wanted to use the pronouns she/her. Instead, their pronouns became he/him/they. I wasn’t familiar with what being transgender meant. I knew there were gay and lesbian people but trans was something new to me. Very briefly, I debated whether or not August and I would remain friends after this transition. It’s not that I was dismissive of August’s transition from female to male, I just wasn’t used to it. Sometimes, it was annoying being corrected when I used the wrong pronoun, but only because I hated being called out. Eventually, I got it. I decided that although I didn’t understand it, I had no reason to stop being friends with August. His journey was for him to understand and it was my job to be there to support him, regardless of how different his journey was from everything I’d seen growing up.

August saved me from driving myself too insane with thoughts of my past life with Carma and the baby he had on the way. I still thought of Carma’s baby mother with every insulting name I could think of. I was horribly jealous that she would bear his first born child. What’s worse is I found out she was having a son. In the unlikely chance that Carma and I got back together, the bitch would always be able to hold that fact over my head.

To keep me sane, August would come to my house damn near every day, whether I was having a bad day or not. We’d chill, talk, eat, and/or listen to music. We swapped stories of dysfunction and realized that we related to each other on many levels. One thing that August could not understand was my relationship with Carma. He didn’t understand why I loved Carma so much or why Carma made me sell my body. Some days, I had the answers and some days I didn’t. Whatever the answers were, I was still in love with Carma.

In attempts to help me rid myself of memories with Carma, August commanded me to throw out my absolute favorite picture of me and Carma.

No way! I laughed. I thought he was joking.

The picture was a headshot of me and Carma sitting together. We’d taken it in a photo booth at the arcade before seeing a movie in Bayers Lake. It was my favorite because I thought Carma and I looked alike and I read somewhere that soulmates resembled each other. August picked up the picture from where it sat on my dresser, frameless. I sat on my bed, looking over at him.

You see this person? he said, pointing to my face. This is the only smile you need to worry about. With that, he ripped the picture in half.

I gasped! This man is bold! All I could do was laugh.

August! I groaned. None of my girl friends would ever have had the guts to do what August had just done.

We’re getting rid of this, he said.

We started walking towards the MacDonald Bridge or what I called the bridge by the hood.

You’re serious? I laughed.

YEP! he exclaimed. We walked to the dead centre of the bridge. I can’t remember his exact words as he shredded the picture to bits. We split the mess in half and threw the pieces over the side into the moonlit water.

With me being a poet, I felt as though there was magic in what we’d just done; a certain milestone of freedom. This was one of the first times when I felt like maybe I would be okay. Maybe one day, this would be a memory without giving me a broken heart.

CHAPTER 4

COMING BACK TO GOD

In April 2011, a ruthless murder claimed the life of a young black man in Halifax who happened to be my best friend Videll’s cousin, Lamar. I’d known him for only a short while, having ran into him at a party, quite literally. We got into an argument on the front porch while he smoked and barked threats at me. I was shook, standing beneath his six-foot-tall, muscular body. But I didn’t show him that I was scared. I never saw him again after that night but in a Facebook message he told me that I’d shown heart. We were able to squash the beef. I was happy that he didn’t carry the problem to his grave. Time came for his funeral. Quin and I smoked a fat blunt in his honor. We took deep inhales then blew it towards the sky. I was almost too high to function, but we headed to the funeral anyway.

Once there, we managed to get a really good seat near the middle of the church. There were so many people there that my anxiety kicked in. I was hoping no one would talk to me. I just wanted to get it over with. Usually a pastor speaking wouldn’t capture my attention in the slightest but this one was different. Pastor Mira Kennedy repeated over and over that young people needed to come back to the church—to come back to God. I didn’t really believe in God anymore but the way she spoke intrigued me. Is that the solution? I asked myself.

Pastor Kennedy preached and pleaded for the young people to put down the guns and get out of the streets. She invited us to join her in prayer to accept Jesus Christ as our Lord and saviour. It could’ve been the weed but, in that moment, I felt something inside of me being lifted. Somehow, I felt lighter.

Come back to God. He’s waiting for you! Pastor Kennedy said. My heart started racing.

Are you gonna do it? I whispered to Quin.

I don’t know. Are you?

I don’t know. Should I? I whispered back.

If you want. Quin shrugged.

As if on cue, Pastor Mira Kennedy began the prayer and I decided right then that I would accept the Lord into my life. I confess Jesus as Lord of my life and believe in my heart that… the prayer started. The pastor had asked us to repeat after her. Once the service ended, I felt new. Pastor Kennedy had given us the details about her church, which happened to be near where I lived. I promised myself I would go.

The first time I went to church, I was nervous sitting amongst strangers. I didn’t know the majority of the hymns, so I felt out of place. Despite my discomfort, Pastor Kennedy seemed to be speaking directly to me. I remember feeling like I was in the right place at the right time. When I left service that Sunday, the sun broke through the clouds as if to give me a silent nod for coming back to God.

CHAPTER 5

SUMMER 2011

That summer, I went to Toronto to visit Daneen, who had moved there recently for a fresh start. I made a point to go visit my brother, Riley, since he lived in Toronto as well. Riley lived near Church and Wellesley with his then girlfriend. I packed up my small suitcase from Daneen’s mother’s house and hopped on the train to go meet Riley downtown. I cussed the other transit users under my breath for not offering to help with my suitcase. If I were traveling in Nova Scotia, someone definitely would have helped me. Toronto people get on my nerves. Not caring that I too was born in Toronto.

When I reached Riley’s condo, he came to meet me downstairs in the lobby. I hadn’t seen him in years. What’s up, Jadey? Riley smiled, using my childhood nickname. He gave me the grand tour of his condo and introduced me to his girlfriend. Their condo was clean and new. The two of them spoiled me right away with drinks and restaurant meals. I felt like a princess, wanting for nothing.

At one point during my stay at Riley’s place, Carma and I agreed to hang out. Carma had moved to the city a few months back, with a girl, to pursue the life that he’d started with me. We hadn’t seen each other since. He pulled up wearing all white, looking as good as ever. I was almost positive he had been drinking and I’d also had a few drinks with Riley and his girlfriend before Carma pulled up.

We drove in and out of the street lanes, making small talk. I had no idea where we were or where we were going. We pulled up in a rich looking neighbourhood, surrounded by mansion-like houses and a lot of greenery. It was nighttime. Carma parked and we both got out. Come on. He motioned to me. We walked a few feet along the property’s fence. Carma started climbing the fence.

What are you doing? I laughed.

Climb over, he instructed me.

I have sandals on.

Here, I’ll hold them, he said. I threw my sandals over the fence and climbed over it, no problem.

As I caught my breath from the climb, Carma and I started kissing. He’d pinned me against the fence and we were all over each other. I’d missed him so much. After we were pantless, I held up a hand. 

Do you have a condom? I asked him.

No. He shrugged.

I’m just letting you know, if I get pregnant, I’m not getting rid of it this time.

Okay, you girl. His reply was nonchalant.

I’m serious!

You think I don’t know what I’m doing? he asked. I turned back around and let him inside me. He fucked me right there against the fence until I couldn’t take it anymore.

We’re crazy! I panted after we had finished. We both started laughing.

He drove me back to Riley’s condo and promised to see me again soon.

The next night, I saw Carma again. This time, we drove over to the Esso at the corner of Church and Dundas Street East and parked.

So, what’s up, what you doing up here? Carma asked.

I came to see Daneen. We’re gonna go back to work. I informed him.

Work? he asked.

Yeah, I’m gonna go to the strip club with Daneen. I shrugged.

Did I say you can work in Toronto? Carma asked in a stern tone.

What? I laughed.

You ain't allowed working in Toronto.

I looked at him to see if he was serious. Yeah right! I couldn’t stop laughing. I don’t work for you, ya boy. How ya gonna tell me where I can work?

You wouldn’t even be out here if it wasn’t for me. You not gonna go make money out here without me.

I continued laughing. You’re crazy!

If I find out you’re working, you’ll see what happens, Carma warned.

I knew I should have stopped laughing in his face, but it was honestly cracking me up. Who do you think you are? I laughed.

You want me show you? I’ll put you out there right now. Carma locked the car doors as his car tires screeched out of the Esso parking lot. You think it’s funny, do ya? Watch this! Further up Church Street, Carma’s car came to a halt.

No! Carma, please! I pleaded with him. He was threatening to put me out on the stroll, a street or area where customers could acquire services from prostitutes, to prove his point. If I didn’t do it, he would force me to.

You think I’m a joke? Carma asked.

No, Carma, please. I won’t work. I won’t, I begged. I was terrified!

You’re lucky I love you, Carma mumbled with a slick smile on his face. He drove back to the gas station.

I remained silent, still scared out of my wits. When Carma had parked again, tears fell from my eyes. Why would you do that? I sobbed.

I was just fucking with you, Carma said. Now, it was his turn to laugh.

It’s not funny. Tears continued to stream down my face.

You mad at me? He smiled. Carma pulled me into an awkward hug. I didn’t return his embrace. He tried to make small talk with me, but I wasn’t interested.

Can you take me home now? My gaze was lowered.

You really wanna leave? Carma asked.

Yeah, I muttered.

Okay. I ain't forcing you to stay, he said, pulling the lever into drive. We drove back to Riley’s house in silence.

Can I see you again? Carma asked.

I shook my head, still in tears. He shrugged. I wiped my face as I walked back into Riley’s apartment.

When I walked inside, Riley and I went out on his balcony to talk. I told him what had happened with Carma.

Why did you go with him? Riley asked.

I don’t know, I shrugged.

Well, Jadey, I can’t do nothing. He’s out here like I’m out here. You gotta charge it to the game, Riley said. He was referring to the fact that he was a pimp too, just like Carma. They were both in the sex trade business, often referred to as The Game. I decided to suck it up and try to forget about it. There was nothing I could do if Riley couldn’t protect me. Riley told me to stay away from Carma from now on. I assured him that I would.

It was August and I was back in Halifax. Serena, one of my best friends, and I decided to dump a bottle of lemon gin into our slushies and go for a walk to the Halifax Waterfront. We ran into a guy that Serena knew and he had a friend with him named D. When the liquor kicked in, we started bothering him.

What does the D stand for? we asked. He wouldn’t tell us, so we made drunken attempts at guessing. D-Ball? Duncan? D-Nice? we laughed. He still didn’t budge so we decided, for him, that D stood for