Down by Law

by Ni-Ni Simone

  20

  Salley from the valley

  “Surprise and happy birthday, hookerrrrrrrrrrrr!” Munch screamed the moment me and Yvette stepped into our bedroom.

  I struggled to smile and forget about the fight I’d just had with Daddy, as Yvette, Munch, and Cali snatched me into a group hug and we all danced around.

  “This heifer is finally sixteen with us!” Cali screamed. “And we gon’ do it up today, baby! What y’all wanna do?”

  “Well, first she gon’ open these gifts. And then we gon’ hit this blunt.” Yvette smacked her lips in glee. She pointed to her bed, which was filled with gifts, and over to my nightstand, which held a freshly rolled blunt. She pushed me over toward her bed.

  “This heifer’s been boosting again.” I chuckled and hugged Yvette, who had never given up and had perfected the art of lickin’ off the mall. Me? I learned my lesson. I liked to look fly, but I wasn’t about to go to jail behind no jeans, so while my cousin was out five-finger shopping, I kept her baby.

  “That is not all from boosting.” Yvette smiled. “Flip gave me some money and some of those things I actually had to buy.”

  Me, Cali, and Munch all looked at each other, our eyes bright with surprise. “So you claimin’ his old behind now?” I smirked but then quickly smiled, to not spoil the mood.

  “Funny,” she said. “Don’t even try it. You knew he was Kamari’s daddy all along. I just never said anything because I didn’t want him to go to jail.”

  “’Cause you know Nana woulda had him locked down.”

  “I know.”

  “So y’all still a couple?”

  She sucked her teeth. “Please. He done had like three or four babies since Kamari. So I left him alone.”

  “Good,” Munch said. “Now let’s get back to the party.” She snapped her fingers. “Open the gifts.”

  I flopped down in the middle of Yvette’s bed and tore into gift boxes filled with Levi’s jeans, mini skirts, tops, and sneakers. “Oh my God! This stuff is so fly.”

  “I know it is,” Yvette said proudly, handing me a small red velvet box.

  “That’s from all of us,” Cali said.

  “What is it?” I said, as I opened it. There was a gold chain inside with a small charm that was round on one end and L-shaped on the other.

  “We each have one too!” Munch said and they all lifted their gold chains. “And if you put all the charms together it makes a heart.”

  “This is soooooooo dope!” I screamed.

  “We know,” Cali said. “And now we got something that represents our crew.”

  “We sure do!” I said as they all fell across Yvette’s bed and we group hugged again. “Now,” I said, wiping tears of joy from my face. “Let’s hit this blunt.”

  For the next hour, we zooted up, talked about boys, clothes, and rappers we’d love to do. “I think LL Cool J is everything and more,” Cali said. “I would love to rock out with him.”

  “I bet you would,” I said. “Isn’t that who James told you he looked like?”

  “Eww.” She wrinkled her nose. “I broke up with him.”

  “You did?” Munch said. “I’m your sister and you didn’t even tell me that.”

  “We just broke up last night.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “How you break up with somebody you’ve never seen? I mean, you met him on the party line. If you wanted to leave him alone, all you had to do was stop calling.”

  We all cracked up, including Cali. “I’m not worried. I’ll find me another boo.”

  “Me too,” Yvette said.

  “Me three,” I agreed.

  “Well, I’m happy. My baby loves me,” Munch said.

  “Whatever.” We laughed.

  Munch asked, “Hey, y’all know where I haven’t been in mad years?”

  “Where?” they asked simultaneously.

  “To the park to chill.”

  “I know,” Yvette agreed. “’Cause all we do is hang around here.”

  Cali jumped in, “That’s ’cause we stay broke as a joke.”

  “Word,” Munch added.

  “But I got some money today.” Yvette grinned. “And if I hit Nana off with twenty dollars, she’ll keep Kamari for me. So y’all wanna go? I got our bus fare.”

  We all hopped off the bed so fast, it’s a wonder we didn’t take off and fly. “Let’s get it!” I popped my hips to the left and then to the right. I was having one of the best days of my life, and I refused to let the emptiness of not having Daddy, Queenie, Face, or Schooly here with me sink in. I had my girls and right now, at this moment, that was all that mattered to me and all the family I needed.

  21

  Lookout weekend

  The moment we stepped into the playground, I felt like everything had been on pause and waitin’ for me. The trees. The breeze. The birds. The swelterin’ summer sun that beamed down at least eighty-five degrees. And the deejay, who rocked the dopest hip-hop, courtesy of his turntable and two massive and boomin’ speakers connected to yards of extension cord that snaked from somebody’s apartment window and eased down the block.

  Er’thing was live and the park was clearly the place to be.

  I looked dope too: white and neon-paint-splattered midriff tee that draped off one shoulder. Super tight and white Levi jeans. Crisp white Lottos on my feet with fat hot-pink shoestrings. All courtesy of the Get Fresh Clique.

  Me and Yvette grooved to the music, while Munch and Cali flirted with cuties.

  People was everywhere.

  B-boys was break dancing.

  D-boys was shootin’ dice.

  The think-they-dime girls were posted up.

  The chill chicks were sprinkled here and there.

  And kids were all over the monkey bars, the seesaws, and the swings.

  “Isis,” poured from behind me. “So what? Don’t tell me you gon’ try and pretend like you don’t remember me.”

  I found myself holding my breath and forcing my mouth to fight off a smile. I could tell by the look in Yvette’s eyes that that voice belonged to K-Rock. I turned around and couldn’t fight off my grin a moment longer. “Oh my God! Wassup? How you been? Where you been?” I said practically in the same breath. “What’s good?!”

  “You. That’s what’s good.” His caramel eyes drank me in. “Daaaaaang, girl. Look at lil Icy. All grown up for real. How old are you now?”

  “Sixteen.” Jesus, I was blushing. Why, oh why, was I blushing? I needed to stop. Jesus, please help me to stop! “Today’s my birthday, actually.”

  “Word? Happy birthday, lil ma.”

  Lil ma? Lil ma? I felt like bustin’ out into a moonwalk. I can’t believe he didn’t call me lil sis. “Thank you.”

  “So what do you have planned?” he asked.

  Being here is the plan. Oh wait, I can’t say that. Then I’ma sound all played, busted, and disgusted. Think... think . . . think . . . “I’ma chill with my man. He should be here at any moment.” I popped my glossy lips and looked him dead in the eyes. Dang, he was fine.

  “That’s wassup.”

  “Yup. So what you got goin’ on? Where have you been?”

  “Yo, after Schooly died and they knocked my boy Face, I knew I had to switch it up or I was next.”

  “So what you do different?”

  “I stopped slangin’, got back in school like I needed to, and now I’m in college.”

  “College? Word up? Get outta here.”

  “Yeah, I’m only home for the summer.”

  “Where you school at?”

  “Stiles U in New Orleans.”

  “That’s wassup.” I paused and a moment of awkward silence slipped in between us. I felt like he was checkin’ for me, but I wasn’t sure and I dang-gon’ was not about to play myself. “Okay, well. I just saw my boo come into the park. I’ll see you around.”

  He nodded, looked me up and down. “Okay. You got a man, huh?”

  I forced a smile on my face. “Yup.”

/>   He nodded. “A’ight, I hope he treating you good. Doing you all right and holding you down.”

  “He is.”

  “Straight. That’s wassup. So I’ma let you go. I’m not gon’ hold you. Be good, lil ma.”

  “I will.”

  He gave me a soft kiss on the forehead before walking off and disappearing into the distance.

  It took everything in me, or out of me, not to pass out. “Did you see him?” I squealed, as I turned around and faced Yvette. “He was sooooooo fly.”

  “He was all right,” Yvette said. “But let me show you somebody soooooo fly that he has got to be illegal. I promise you the letters in his version of fly stand for fine, lovely, and yes, he is all of that.”

  “Who are you talkin’ about?” I spun around and faced the B-boys, who were havin’ a break-dancin’ war. “Them?” I frowned. “I’m all for break dancin’ but umm . . . dear Yvette, you already know you cannot come up offa nobody in a Windbreaker suit. I’m talkin’ no cash, and a broke dude is just all kinds of wrong.”

  “Eww. Don’t play me out like that.” She curled her top lip. “My need-to-be tender is over there at three o’clock.” She placed her hands on both of my shoulders and turned me to the left. I now faced the D-boys playin’ a dice game. I pulled a long and soothing breath of fresh air into my nose and eased it through my glossy lips. “Daaaaang, they smell like money.”

  “Oh yes, they do.” Yvette drooled.

  “And judging by the groupies surrounding them, er’body wanna go to the bank.” I snapped my fingers and my eyes soaked in the small dope boy crowd of Bermuda Kangols, Yankee caps, Levi’s denim suits, and Adidas sweat suits. “Yvette, which check you tryna cash?”

  “The honey-colored one with the sun shining over him. You see him?”

  “The one in the dark blue Levi’s suit?”

  “Yes.”

  “He is lookin’ stupid fresh.”

  “And did you peep the two dookie chains hanging around his neck? I just love him.” She squealed and it was obvious that the butterflies in her belly were dancing. “They call him Fresh.”

  “Oh, word. How you know him?”

  “Everybody know him.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Umm, helloooo.” She snapped her fingers. “Fresh is the head of the Avenues and er’body knows that the Avenues practically got hustlin’ in the South Ward on lock.”

  “So he a Down South boy?” I took a step back. “You already know I hate Down South dudes!”

  “Look. Most of them dudes that was out there when Schooly got killed and Face was in the game is either dead or in jail. I mean, it’s still some on the block, but Fresh is not one of ’em. He’s just cool wit’ ’em. But he ain’t a part of they crew.”

  “How you know that?”

  “’Cause I know. Trust me, he’s a cool dude.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so,” she assured me. “And if I get wit’ him, that’s gon’ be like gettin’ wit’ the president.” She placed her right hand like a visor over her eyes. “The haters gon’ be like, ‘I see you, Yvette.’”

  I laughed. “You really on his sack right now.”

  “Not yet, but I will be.” She fanned her face. “How do I look?”

  I looked her over in her black bodysuit, leopard leggings, and pumps. “Fresh.”

  “Fresh? Or stupid fresh?”

  “Fresh enough to be Mrs. Fresh.”

  She giggled. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cool. Now how should I get his attention? ’Cause he has not looked my way.” We both zoomed in on him. He was pickin’ up the pot of money from the dice game he’d obviously won. He looked over at his boys, said something to them, and lay a hundred-dollar bill on the ground.

  I pulled a cherry-red Blow Pop from my pocket, threw the wrapper on the ground, and placed the candy between my lips. After a few seconds of the sweetness drenching my tongue, I wiggled my neck and said, “Don’t be shy. Walk over there and say, ‘Heyyyyyyyy, Fresh. Wassup, playboy. What’s good, young blood?’ ”

  She shoved her hands up on her hips. “I’m serious.”

  “Me too.”

  “Isis, you knoooow I’m not gon’ do that.”

  “Okay, okay, I got an idea. Come on.” I took a step toward Fresh and his crew.

  Yvette pulled me back. “No wait. We can’t go over there! He’s gon’ think I’m desperate. He needs to come to me.”

  “What?” I shook my head and looked at her like she was crazy. I couldn’t believe this. This skeezer had stolen er’thing that wasn’t nailed down, but now she was too scared to step to a dude? I frowned. “You want him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You tryna come up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then you better get your rap together. Queenie always said if the john don’t come to the track, then you go to where they at and make a new track. Maybe he see you. Maybe he don’t. But if you for sure wanna be seen, then I’ma make sure he lays eyes on you. Now do have a hundred dollars?”

  “What?” She looked at me like I had two heads. “Oh heck no! What you need a hundred dollars for?”

  “So you have it?”

  “Yeah, but I need that for my baby. That’s all I got and Kamari needs Pampers, milk, and food.”

  “Gimme the money.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Would you give it to me?!”

  “No!”

  “You’ll get it back today. I promise.”

  Yvette hesitated, then reluctantly handed me the money. “That’s all the money I got left for the month.”

  “Look, go sit over there on the bleachers, post up, and look cute. I got a plan, just follow my lead.”

  “And what’s your plan?”

  “I’ma hook you up. Now go,” I said, tight-lipped.

  “No! Suppose he has a girlfriend?”

  “Suppose he doesn’t?”

  “Don’t make me look desperate.”

  “Go sit down.”

  Yvette huffed, but she walked over to the bleachers and took a seat.

  I walked over to the dope boys and winked, then I slowly bent down and lay my money on top of theirs. I stood back up and gave each of them a wide grin. I could hear Yvette clearing her throat, but I refused to turn around. I already knew I was takin’ a chance and I didn’t need her making me nervous. Besides, if things went the way I planned, I was gon’ walk away with a pot of cash and Yvette was gon’ have her man.

  Fresh and his entire crew turned and had their eyes on me. Obviously, nobody had ever jumped into their dice games before. I took my lollipop out of my mouth and looked at Fresh. “What? You don’t play with girls?”

  He shook his wrist and the herringbone bracelets he wore draped over his hand. “Money is money. And girl or no girl, if you wanna lose yours to me and my crew, then you’re welcome to. So come on, sexy, and get your money taken away.”

  “Oh, that was real cute. And whatchu call that? Reverse psychology, tryna make think I’ma lose. Well, I don’t lose and I’ll have you to know that I prevail in er’thing I do.”

  Fresh’s crew gave amused sighs and some of them outright laughed. “Say word?” Fresh said more to his crew than to me.

  “Word,” I said.

  “So you think you just gon’ not only invite yo’self into our game but you gon’ take our money too?” He laughed, and for a moment there, I thought I saw a blush.

  “First time for everything.”

  Fresh stroked his box beard and judging by the redness filling his cheeks, he was fighting off a smile. “So who you s’pose to be? A hood celebrity?”

  “Maybe. And could you come on, ’cause you’re talking a little too much. Now gimme the dice. Ladies roll first.” I looked over my shoulder at Yvette and winked.

  I could tell by the dreamy look on her face that the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering all over the place, again.

  “Who is that?�
�� Fresh asked.

  “Your new girl. My cousin Yvette.”

  “My new what?” He chuckled.

  “Unless you already have a girl, then you should probably break up with her tonight. So let’s roll the dice and when you take my cousin on a date, then the two of you can work out the kinks and the details.”

  “So a hundred dollars and a date with your cousin is what you tossin’ into the pot?”

  “Yop.”

  “And what if I win, then what I’ma get out the game?”

  “Well, for one, if you win, or any of your other boys win—”

  “They ain’t in this round.” He placed three hundred-dollar bills on the ground, lifted my money off the original pot, and placed it on top of his.

  I arched a brow. “Well, if you win, then you get the whole pot.”

  “And?”

  “And, you get a chance to go out on a date with my cousin, Yvette.”

  “And why should I do that?”

  “’Cause she’s cute and she’s feelin’ you.”

  “Look around. They all feelin’ me.” He looked back over his shoulder at Yvette, and then quickly turned back around to me. “A’ight, bet but—”

  “No buts.” I picked up the dice and shook them in my hand. “Now blow on these ’cause mama needs some shoes and my cousin needs to be rockin’ witchu.” I squatted, prepared to roll the dice.

  Fresh squatted beside me and placed his hand over mine. “Hold up. I didn’t finish.”

  “Finish.”

  “If you win, I’ma take your cousin out. But if I win”—he lifted his hand and blew on the dice—“I wanna date with you.”

  22

  Nothin’ but a faker

  “You know I ain’t goin’, right?” Yvette sat on the edge of her bed, while Kamari sat between her legs and Yvette braided her hair. She parted Kamari’s hair and slid a fingertip full of Dax grease onto her scalp.

  “You buggin’.” I sat Indian style in the middle of my bed. “I won the game. So Fresh has a date with you tonight. But you wanna send me? How whack is that? I already told you I would babysit. Why you sweatin’ it?”

  “This isn’t about you babysittin’.” She frowned. “This is about me not going out with a dude who’s really feelin’ you. I ain’t desperate and I am def not on him like that. You didn’t make him think that, did you?”