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.Most had been sympathetic, but some, like James, had been cynical.She'd told him that she'd been in Thailand opening up a branch office of the fictitious import–export company that was her cover.That much had been a lie, but the stories of the children had been true."Listen, baby," he had said, when she'd finished, "they gonna be whores sooner or later, right? So what's the difference if it's sooner?""The difference is that they have no choice, James.And they have no childhood.""So you think kids growin' up in this country in the projects have a childhood? You make me laugh—I didn't have no childhood." He said the word with a sneer."No, but you had a choice," Laika answered.They had been having breakfast in her apartment after spending the night together for the first time since her return from Thailand."And you chose to make something of yourself.You think that would've happened if you'd had to turn tricks when you were ten?""Shit, I sold dope when I was ten.""Selling dope didn't give you AIDS," Laika shot back.James gave a hiss of disgust, and Laika knew the wiser path would be to change the subject.But she was not used to backing off in the rest of her life, and she didn't back off from James."You don't know whut the hell you talkin' 'bout, bitch," he growled."Why do you always do that?" she asked quietly."Do whut?""Whenever you get angry, you start talking like Dolemite, calling me a bitch.You know I hate that.""You act like a bitch, thass whut I call you!" He slammed his coffee mug back onto the table, making the liquid slop over the sides."James," she said in a low, dangerous voice, "you graduated from City College, you've been with a brokerage firm for the past eight years.I've been to parties where you've conversed pleasantly and intelligently.Now why, whenever we disagree, do you act and talk like some stupid ghetto bully?"He stood up and slapped her.It was so unexpected, so totally shocking, that she didn't react at all.She only stood there, with her cheek reddening, feeling hot blood rising in her face, and looked at him."Donchu ever diss me, bitch!" he yelled."You diss me and I'll whup you, you won't siddown for a week! You get that?"She swallowed hard, trying to hold back the anger, knowing that if she wanted to, she could kill him in a matter of seconds, or at least incapacitate him so that he'd never dare raise a hand to her again.But she didn't.She only stood there, her hand to her aching cheek, feeling herself shake worse than she ever had in her life."You get that?" James asked again."Yes," she said softly."I got that."She did not know, then or now, why she'd put up with it.Maybe, she thought, she felt sorry for James Winston.He'd had a rough childhood, but hard work had bought him an easier adulthood.He was well-off enough to have a nice apartment on the East Side and drive a vintage Jag that he kept garaged most of the time.When she'd first met him, he'd seemed cultured and polite, a younger version of Harry Belafonte, and his voice betrayed little of his inner city upbringing.But there was still a lot of anger in him, and that blow, the first of many that would ultimately separate them, had brought it out for her to see in all its nakedness.James was a black man angry at a white world that in his view had given him everything he had—as long as he played according to its rules and gave up the one thing most precious to him: his black soul.In retrospect, she knew she should have seen the change coming.His bitter comments had been increasing, and his temper would flare more and more frequently.After he'd hit her that first time, he treated her differently.He went to her place whenever he felt like having sex, and the preambles grew more perfunctory.He showed little concern for her needs, and when she expressed her discontent, he called her more names and hit her again.Somehow, and for some reason she could not name, she endured it, asking herself as she did, "Why am I letting this man do this to me?" but having no answer.The marks were not permanent, and he never drew blood, but they scarred her just the same
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