"I often receive calls from Takeesha. Sometimes she just wants to talk, but mostly she wants me to meet her, buy her some food, and help her out. She never calls more than once if I don’t pick up, so I was surprised to see two missed calls from her this afternoon.
I was in the Bronx so I stopped by her house. She lives in one of four simple buildings on a busy road leading into Hunt Point, houses that somehow find space at the edge of a bridge over a rail yard, in the shadow of an elevated expressway.
She used to share her apartment with a boyfriend, but he was kicked out after twice tossing her down the stairs. Her bedroom is tidy but jarring, filled with stuffed animals and ribbons straight from a teenage-girl’s room, and also syringes and condoms.
She was crying, but wouldn’t tell me why. She wanted her picture taken and asked for twenty bucks. I gave her the money and we spoke, but her mind was elsewhere.”
Takeesha: Hunts Point, Bronx (by Chris Arnade)