This is a true story of a woman whose eccentric and bohemian existence led her down a path of abuse and exploitation, by not only the men in her life whom she loved and adored, but the bureaucratic system that she trusted and depended on for justice. It's about the loss of her life with her children, to the creation of a new life with another and her fight to keep it. Was it fate, destiny or karma that caused all of the events that took place, or was it just a series of bad choices that she made in her life? Perhaps it was a combination of everything from her family to the environment she was exposed to at an early age. Her story is told by her cousin, Randy, whose fascination with Alisha's history has led him to the writing of this provocative biography. Some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Jaded
A True StoryBy Randy A. DeOrioAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Randy A. DeOrio
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4567-1289-1 Chapter One
On January 28th, 1993 at 3:35 PM,
At the Lexington County Court House of Waldwick, New Jersey,
Before the Honorable Judge Philip P. Edwards, (the hanging Judge to most), and a jury of twelve people considered peers, the verdict was read aloud. Guilty ... Guilty ... Guilty
Deliberations only took seven hours before they reached that verdict. The trial itself took a week. "It has to be karma," she thought to herself as she gazed up at the clock right before the guilty verdict was read.
Eight years prior to that very minute she had given birth to her second child Adam Jr. This was going to be the first birthday in years that she would miss of his and would most likely never get a chance to celebrate another one with him in this life.
Everyone should have a little hope that they will be found NOT guilty, but she knew that a miracle wasn't happening for her that day.
The prosecutor, Darrell Evenston, told the jury during closing statements, "Ms. Durant is a cold, calculating, manipulative, black hearted woman that does not deserve to live in society. That society would be safer without her in it." Wow! What powerful words coming from a man who had never even had a conversation with her. When he said those things to the jury, she immediately tapped her attorney on the back of his hand resting on the table, and whispered in his ear "Does this guy know me? I'd be the one safer from society not vice versa!"
She had never truly imagined herself as evil before, but the thought of being a dark villain appealed to her now. That there was someone in this world who could believe she had the audacity to be so nefarious. It intrigued her. She felt however, deep down inside, that his words were only those of a suit guys perception of a Go-Go Dancer. Talk about stereo typing someone. "Would this be literally judging a book by its cover?" she thought.
As a matter of fact it had been her cover. A false image she portrayed to the public to make money to support her children. It was her job to appeal to men as a fantasy sex object so they would believe that they stood a chance of fulfilling their sexual fantasies with a beautiful, young, sexy stripper. The more she enticed them, the more money she usually received from them. It was a game that she learned to play well.
Once they got a taste of her reality however, it was usually over for them. She had three adorable children, but what most men considered "a lot of baggage."
She never hid how she really felt about those men. She always considered them the baggage, and never her beautiful children. She loved them with all of her heart, just not their fathers any longer.
She had decided after she split from her son's father Adam Sr. that if she couldn't have "true love" with a man, she would have to settle for their money. Not that she considered herself a gold digger, she just felt, that if they wanted something from her, it was only fair that she got something in return. I mean after all, if a man is foolish enough to spend his entire paycheck at a strip club giving all of his money to the hot, sexy strippers, because he's looking for more than what he has at home with his mate, is it the dancers that are screwed up, or the lonely, horny, desperate men who turn to them for comfort or companionship or whatever?
Who knows, maybe it's both, she thought. She found out the hard way just how much her profession, was appreciated, by the "Authority Figures" and the general public.
Hypocrites!
They're usually the first ones in those places stuffing dollar bills into the G-strings of the girls.
Unfortunately for her, that was where she met her attorney who would completely misrepresent her. She was sure he meant no harm though.
She had met him while dancing at a strip club called the "Village" on route 19 in Waldwick. He actually had no defense for her. She would have been better off with a public defender. At least she would have had someone who knew what he was doing in the courtroom.
It might have helped her immensely if he we're a criminal lawyer, but he wasn't. He was a civil attorney that knew very little about criminal defense.
How could that be, when he used to be a municipal judge in not only Waldwick, but in Arlington Township as well?
To a twenty-five year old girl who had never before needed an attorney, when this all began, he was good enough. All attorneys are the same she thought. They all go to law school and carry briefcases and practice law. How bad can he be?
He was very kind. He reminded her of her father because he was a Pisces like her father. And he had very trusting brown eyes. He even smoked a pipe that always smelled so sweet. He had a humble, little office in downtown, Waldwick.
O.k. so he was having an affair with his secretary that eventually ended his marriage, but that wasn't really anyone's business anyway. Was it?
It didn't matter to her that while Larry was married, he had stopped by her condo to visit and actually got on his knees at her door, begging her to be with him. She told him that she couldn't be with him sexually because she liked and respected him. But the actual truth was that she was extremely superstitious about having sex with a married man. She had never done it before and was afraid God would punish her, if she did. As it would happen, it would be thought by the mother of this naive girl that he deliberately sabotaged her defense because she rejected him. Absolutely ridiculous!
It was her own fault that she didn't have a defense. She only paid him four thousand dollars after all. Every other attorney wanted at least seventy-five thousand to represent her. And every time he asked to meet with her to work on her case, she would have an excuse not to. The fact was that she really didn't care what happened to her. She had failed to protect her children who depended on her judgment and deserved everything that would happen from that day forward.
She told her attorney right before entering into the courtroom that she heard Guilty ... Guilty ... Guilty in her head, but he attempted to reassure her, that she was wrong. She had just forgotten to put the NOT in front of guilty. She had NO defense. Only her, saying she didn't do, what they just spent a week saying she did.
Tears welled up in Larry's eyes after the verdict was read. He knew that his client was not the person the media and the prosecution had portrayed her to be to the jury. She might have been a little too trusting, maybe a little eccentric, but she was no criminal. She was a victim just like her daughter.
She was actually the last victim of a pedophile who had spent the last twenty-five years molesting children and was now sitting in jail because she refused to keep his secret at the cost of her own freedom. A pedophile as her co-defendant, and they would take his word over hers. Go figure!
Chapter Two
On the eve of January 3rd, 1991 Alisha Durant, nicknamed Ali, called her friend Fenton Noor and asked him if he would babysit her two children, Amanda, who was seven at that time and Tyler, who was only four. Her other child, Adam Jr. was living with his grandmother in Pleastant, which was not far from her, just the next town over.
He refused to watch Tyler, complaining that he was a brat. His grand daughter, who was the same age as Amanda, would be there at his home to play with her so she wouldn't be alone or get bored.
Ali sometimes confided in her friend Fenton about personal matters as though he were her girlfriend; however, he was fifty-nine years old and she was twenty-five. It really wasn't a proper relationship to onlookers.
She knew he was infatuated with her, but the age difference was so overwhelming, that she ignored his subtle advances.
Not to mention, he had been her sister's "Sugar Daddy" for about seven years while she was married.
He adored little girls so much, that he had practically raised Jessica's daughter, Megan, (her niece) who was close to Amanda's age.
Fenton had somehow become the neighborhood babysitter. At one time, Ali had observed him driving around with twelve children, ranging from six weeks to fifteen years old in his custom van.
He seemed very feminine and extremely meticulous to her. He enjoyed buying nice clothes for the little girls. He would dress them up and take them out shopping and to the movies.
It was suspected that he was gay, since she also noticed on several occasions that he would secretly meet with men, whom he wouldn't ever introduce to her.
He told her they were business associates and she left it at that, and didn't pry. It wasn't her business what anyone else did in private, she thought.
She felt that if all these other women, in her neighborhood, trusted him as much as they did, with their children, she could trust him as well. Jessica had convinced her that he was a really great person. Then, after meeting him and hanging out with him for a while, she believed it. She loved him as a dear friend and trusted him immeasurably.
She had first met Fenton when her sister Jessica asked him to pick her up at the Hahnemann University Hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Ironically, it was January 3rd, 1989, exactly two years to the day, that she had been flown by helicopter from South Shore Hospital, near Capetown, to that hospital, where she laid in intensive care for three weeks with a fractured skull, fluid on the brain, and temporary amnesia that lasted for nearly a year following the incident.
She had been living with a boyfriend who was thirteen years her senior named Jesse.
She had met him while dancing at "Down the Hatch" in Capetown. The first Go-Go Bar she ever danced in, in New Jersey.
It had been love at first sight for her. She dated him for a year, before they finally moved in together. They had only been living with each other for about three months, when they had thrown a nice party at their home, on New Years Eve. Ali's parents, who lived three miles away, babysat her two children.
When her mom didn't hear from her for three days, she began to worry.
There was never a day that went by that Ali didn't call to check up on her children. When she didn't return her mother's calls, her mother went over to the house to investigate.
She found her daughter semi-conscious, lying on a couch. Her face was so busted up, that her own mother could hardly recognize her.
Ali's mom immediately helped carry her daughter out to the car and then drove her straight to the nearest hospital. Her younger sister Claire had taken the ride with them. Soon after, she was flown by helicopter to the head trauma center.
Claire had been working as a dispatcher for the Capetown Police Department and told her co-workers, the police, what had happened. Jesse denied the allegations and told them she had gotten drunk and had fallen.
She had been drinking a lot, however, she recalls him grabbing her by the back of her hair in the bedroom, tossing her face into the hard wooden platform of their queen sized waterbed as if he were a big ferocious dog playing with his little rag doll toy. He just kept smashing her against the bed like an angry mad man out of control.
He continued beating her into unconsciousness, while yelling, "get the fuck up you drunk bitch". Sh e never pressed charges on him because she "loved him" insatiably. She figured he never would have done such a horrible thing to her, if he hadn't been drinking. But Jesse was a manic depressive alcoholic who was not going to stop drinking, and most likely, would have done something much worse to her the next time, so for her own safety, she had to leave him.
Heartbroken.
Dancing on the stage at night,
Waiting patiently for Mr. Right.
Hoping he'll come passing through
Just to stop to have a few.
He looks into my big brown eyes
Suddenly he wants to cry.
He knows that he's the one for me
Picks me up and carry's me,
Out the door without my pay,
Not one more moment, does he let me stay.
He tells me that his love is true
Looks in my eyes, I love him too
Together we shall drive away
Into the darkness
of another day.
A hopeless romantic, she never gave up trying to make her relationships work, three children later and still hoping that the next one would be different.
After she was released from the hospital with temporary amnesia, from the brain swelling, she couldn't remember anything, not even her own name. Her short-term memory was shot.
She moved in with her sister Jessica in Waldwick where things were a fog for a while. She took a break from dancing and began hanging out with Fenton who tried to comfort her broken heart when she could remember that she even had one.
Her two children were staying in Florida for a while with their grandmother during that time.
Eventually she recovered and began dancing at a really classy strip club, "Heartbreakers" in Neptune.
Heartbreakers was one of the top Go-Go bars in New Jersey at the time, and most, if not all the dancers had breast implants, hair extensions and really nice sports cars. Some were even centerfolds for the Hustler Magazine and Penthouse.
Ali wanted to be one of them.
One day while she was at home resting, Fenton showed up out of the blue. He threw a deposit slip on her coffee table that read $75,000.00. She was surprised and happy for him. She said "Wow, Fenton, where did you get that?"
He told her that he had just sold one of his properties that he owned in Canada.
Fenton had been a real estate broker who had made a few bad investments and had been temporarily hurting financially. He was so glad that she was his friend during his down time. That he wanted to do something special for her. He asked her "What do you want for your birthday? You can have anything in the world that you want." She told him, she wanted breast implants. They would be an early birthday present.
She had also been dating a guy named Sam, whom she had met at the Village several months before. Sam had just taken out a business loan and offered to pay for her augmentations as well. But she wanted Fenton to pay for them, because he was her friend, and there were no strings attached.
Fenton took her to get them done in a place somewhere in south Jersey, then, took care of her in his home until she was healed.
He told her, he had been a medic in the Army once, and she even allowed him to remove her stitches, when it came time to take them out.
She trusted him emphatically. He even offered to let Sam come to his home to visit her, while she was recovering and didn't seem jealous of him at all. Sam was twenty-eight years old, closer to her age. Ali dated him for almost a year, but then left him after he got her pregnant and wouldn't marry her. She had gone with her sister to get an abortion. She was really disappointed after that, and realized he wasn't the marrying kind. She decided that she wasn't going to have any more kids without getting married to the father first. But she was against using birth control. I guess she missed those sex education classes in high school. Go figure!
Sam wound up meeting another girl, shortly after their split, and then marrying her, followed by three children later. He had told Ali once that, "you don't marry girls like her." What was that suppose to mean? She couldn't find a guy to marry her when she wasn't a stripper, when she was a stay at home mom. So it couldn't have been her profession.
It wasn't her that had issues with marriage, it was the male species, she thought!
After she got her breasts done, her pay went from a few hundred a day, to ten thousand dollars a month, cash. Within a few months, she was able to buy a new, red 944 Porsche' and save thousands to rent a condo and furnish it nicely.
So much for dating the average guy, after that, they either wanted her as a sex toy or they were just simply too intimidated to be with her on any level.
Or maybe, it was that she thought with all the money she had to spend on herself to maintain her up keep, no one could afford her after that. I guess that's what one would consider a "High Maintenance Woman."
It cost a fortune to keep it up. The tanning beds, makeup, nail salons, hair salons, workout gyms, clothes, accessories and whatever else it took. That alone was a job in itself. Who had time for anything else? Then, to have to actually work and take care of the children, she was completely exhausted!
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Jadedby Randy A. DeOrio Copyright © 2011 by Randy A. DeOrio. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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