Down by Law

by Ni-Ni Simone

  “But you kissed me.”

  “That was a mistake.”

  “Why you lyin’? Now I’ma ask you this straight out: do you like me?”

  Lie. Lie. Don’t tell him. Just lie.

  I looked into his eyes and said, “Yeah. I do.”

  “And I’m checkin’ for you too.”

  I blinked. Three times. “What did you just say?”

  “I said, I’m checkin’ for you too. I always have been, but you were always too young and you’re still too young.”

  “I’m not a kid. I’m grown.”

  “You’re only sixteen. I’m twenty. In college and I can’t chill with you like I really want to. Not yet. I just can’t.”

  I felt like such a fool. “Look, I gotta go.”

  “Why? You don’t wanna hang out a little bit? I’m getting ready to get outta here.”

  Now I was pissed. “Hang out? You trippin’. Now you think I should chill with you? Didn’t you just have me admit my feelings, but instead of making future plans, you turned around and walked me back to the little-sister zone. What, you a comedian now? You tryna be funny? I don’t have time to play with you.”

  “Isis.”

  “I gotta go.” He grabbed me by the hand and twirled me into his chest.

  “I’m goin’ back to school tomorrow.” He placed a kiss on the side of my neck.

  “I need you to stop.”

  “I know. I need to. I do.” He kissed me again. “But I just want you to know that I’m never too far away if you need me.”

  “I gotta go.”

  “I know.” He kissed me on my forehead.

  I took a step back, turned, and walked away.

  31

  Bootleg

  “Get in.” Stopped me dead in my tracks, as I walked out of the community center and headed up the block. “Now.” It was Fresh, peering at me through the passenger-side window. “Don’t make me say it again.”

  My heart dropped and I looked up and down the street. Nobody was really out here other than a few winos and fiends. Even the bus stops was empty.

  “Oh, I see.” He nodded. “You tryna test me.”

  “I didn’t say that.” I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore my heart thundering in my chest. “What?” I sighed as I slid into his car and slammed the door.

  “I got your damn what.” Fresh pressed the tips of his fingers into my temple, pinning the side of my face against the tinted window.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?!” I grabbed his wrist and tried to snatch his hand off of me, but I couldn’t. Instead, it felt like I was trying to move a thousand-pound piece of steel. He pressed his fingers deeper into my skin. “Get offa me!” I screamed, flailing my arms, then taking my hands and slapping him across his face.

  “Stop,” he said sternly.

  “Get offa me! What is your problem?!” I screamed, still unable to break free. “Move!” I swung with all my might, raking my fingers down the side of his face.

  “Didn’t I tell you to stop!” Fresh took his free hand, grabbed both of mine and now I was frozen. He peeked into the rearview mirror at his face and spat, “You lucky you ain’t break my skin.”

  “No,” I snapped. “You lucky I ain’t break your skin, but let my hands go and see what I’ma do for you!”

  “What you better do is stop talking all slick and answer my damn question. Now where you been? ’Cause the last time I seen or heard from you, you left me in the middle of New York City like some sucker you can straight play with. You lucky I don’t bust you upside your head. Or make you strip and give me these clothes back. Matter of fact, I should take back everything I bought you, since you think you can just hop up and do what you wanna do.”

  “You ain’t my father! I’m grown. Nobody tells me what the hell to do!”

  “Oh, you grown, huh? Keep on tryna front and play with that cocky attitude and I’ma end up hurtin’ you.”

  “What you think you doin’ now?” I wiggled, trying to free myself again.

  “Stop movin’. I swear to God, Isis. I don’t wanna hurt you so you need to stop talkin’ like you done lost your mind. I’m not the one. ’Cause I’m crazy and I’ll show you crazy.”

  I wanted to explode. But I knew by the look on Fresh’s face that I needed to relax. “Get offa me . . .” I paused. “Please.”

  “And why should I do that?”

  “So I can have a chance to talk to you.”

  “I swear to God, when I let you go, if you hit me, jump out the car, or say something slick, I’ma handle you.” Fresh lifted his hands and shot me a look that clearly told me not to try him.

  I sucked my teeth as I massaged my temples and then my wrists. I flipped down the visor and looked at my face in the mirror. My temples were slightly red. I looked back over to Fresh. “I don’t believe we even going through this.”

  Silence.

  “Fresh, baby, look. I was mad and maybe I overreacted, but you was giving me grief about me simply wanting to hang out with my crew and see my cousin. That’s all I wanted to do. I was gon’ come back to your spot.”

  “Nah, I felt like you tried to play me like a john. Like a sucker. Leaving me in the middle of the street after I done spent my money on you. And then days go by and you don’t even come and see me, I gotta come lookin’ for you.”

  “I was gon’ come and see you today. But I need you to understand that my life is complicated right now. My family is a mess.”

  “I should be considered your family.”

  What did he just say? I smiled, laughed. “Boy, you so crazy. I like that, but we ain’t family yet.” I lifted my left hand and wiggled my ring finger. “Soon though.”

  Fresh shook his head and cracked a crooked grin. “You want a ring? You gon’ have to calm that mouth. I ain’t gon’ have no wife talking crazy to me. And either you gon’ learn on your own that you don’t have to be so smart and spicy all the time. Or you gon’ mess around and make me teach you. Now I’ma ask you this again, and don’t lie. Where you been?”

  I took a deep breath. Relax. You got this. “I been here chillin’ with my cousin and my crew. That’s it.”

  “Didn’t I just tell you not to lie? What you think I’m stupid? You think I don’t know what time it is?”

  I huffed. “I just told you what time it is!”

  He shot me a look. “You better calm down.”

  “I’m trying to be calm.”

  “Check it, was you out with some other dude?”

  “You trippin’. Hard. Real hard. I just told you what I was doin’.”

  “You been chillin’ wit’ K-Rock?”

  My heart dropped to my stomach. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Don’t even try and run game. ’Cause if that’s where you been and who you been kickin’ it to, then you can get him to buy you clothes and take care of you.”

  “Like I told you before, K-Rock is my brother. That’s it, my brother. It ain’t nothin’ like that. He’s a friend of the family and he’s been around ever since I was like ten years old.”

  “That ain’t what your cousin said.”

  “What?” I hesitated. “My cousin? She been runnin’ her mouth, again? Word is bond, you already know she likes you, and she’s jealous of me. She’s the one who wanted to get with you in the beginning. But I’ma tighten her up. You can put money on that.” I nodded. Drifted off into thought and then looked back over to Fresh. “I don’t wanna talk about Yvette no more. We need to talk about me and you.”

  “Yeah, let’s talk about me and you ’cause I ain’t see you in a minute.”

  “Look, trust me. Believe me on this: I’m not playing you. I care about you. I like being with you and everything, but sometimes I just be needing a minute to think, without you sweatin’ me or thinking I’m not coming back. Because I’m here with you. And I really wanna see where this relationship goes.”

  He looked me over. His eyes taking me in from head to toe. “All I’ma say is if I find out
you playin’ me, that’s it, I’m not dealing with you no more.”

  “It’s not like that. I promise you.” I slid my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his.

  “So you coming home with me, right?”

  “Of course, papi.”

  “A’ight, that’s all I been wantin’ to hear.”

  32

  Top billin’

  The last two weeks had been heaven. Me and Fresh had been gettin’ along perfectly, without arguing, fighting, or me feeling like I needed to leave. There was something bothering me though. I needed to have my own money. I didn’t like depending on him for everything.

  I was a hustler and I needed to make my own dough, not have it rationed out to me.

  I turned off the burner and slid the cheese omelet I just made for Fresh onto a plate. Then I buttered his toast and sat it on a saucer beside his orange juice.

  I usually sat on his lap while he ate, but not today. Today, I sat across the table from him.

  Fresh looked at me and his eyes glowed. I knew that he loved me. And I loved him, so I was hoping, praying even, that when I told him what I needed, he would give it to me.

  “Fresh.”

  “Wassup, baby. Why you sittin’ over there? Come sit next to me.”

  “I’ll come over there in a minute.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to ask you something.”

  “Speak.”

  I hesitated. Just say it. Breathe in. Breathe out and just say it. “Do you think you can front me a few ounces of weed, something small, like a QP?”

  Fresh blinked and practically dropped the food out of his mouth. “Repeat that?”

  “I said, ‘Do you think you can front me a few ounces of weed, something small like a QP?’”

  A smile ran across his face. “Baby, it’s a difference in weighing out and baggin’ up weed and selling it.”

  “I know that.”

  “So then tell me, what you know about selling weed? QP? Four ounces?” he said with a smirky grin. “How you gon’ handle that?”

  “Boy, please.” I waved my hand and beamed with pride. “Shiiiiit, I know about making a dollar. Always have. I been down by law since the day I was born. My mama taught me how to hustle without selling my body.”

  “Word?”

  “Word.”

  “Okay, well, we gon’ see. I’ma front you a QP.”

  “For real?” I said, excited.

  “Yeah. Now, keep in mind that you my girl, but this is business. And you gon’ have to bring me back what you gon’ owe me.”

  “Oh, you will get your money.”

  “I tell you what, bring me back half of what you gon’ owe me and keep the rest. Now where you gon’ sell this weed at?”

  “Well, I know I can get it sold in school.”

  “School? Do you know what kind of chance you taking slingin’ in a school? How you gon’ make that work?”

  “I’ma run it just like the block. I’ma get me a crew and set up shop.”

  “But school ain’t for another two weeks.”

  “I know. So for now I can sell some to my homegirls and to a few people I know around the way and in the park. And when school starts, I’ma take another four ounces and knock it off.”

  “You got big dreams.”

  I winked. “And that’s what you love about me.”

  “True. But school? You know they do searches at school.”

  “And? So? I told you I’ma hustler and I can do this.”

  “A’ight, young girl, show me.”

  “As you like to say, ‘You ain’t said nothin’ but a word.’ ”

  “Bet. So when you gon’ start?”

  “Today. I’ma bag it up and I betchu I’ll be back with your money in less than five hours.”

  “I’ll spot you six.”

  33

  The vapors

  Pink and black Air Jordans. Check.

  A small waist pouch to keep my weed in. Check.

  Two-tone Levi’s jeans with solid black on one side, and black and white stripes on the other. Check.

  A white off-the-shoulder, airbrushed T-shirt with Fly Girl sprayed across it. Check.

  Lookin’ ill and feelin’ great. Check. Check.

  I walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, where Fresh sat looking at his pager. I leaned over him from behind the couch and planted a kiss on his lips.

  “Be easy out there, baby. And watch your back. Oh, and take my little hoopty. The Chevette. You can’t be gettin’ on no bus.”

  I grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you, baby.” I took the keys from his hand.

  “A’ight.” He held his fist up and I gave him a bump. “The clock is tickin’.”

  I pulled up to Da Bricks and practically entered Nana’s apartment skippin’. She was standing at the stove stirring grits when she looked at me and did a double take. “I don’t know what you so goddamn happy about. Maybe you high or you done robbed somebody or somethin’, but I’ma tell you right now, leave the devil outside and don’t come up in here startin’ nothin’.”

  I didn’t respond to that. I just kept on going to the bedroom, where Yvette was. I pushed the door open and Yvette jumped. Her eyes sprung open in surprise as she shoved something under her pillow and hopped up. She frowned. “Oh, I see you decided to show up. What? Fresh let you out?”

  “You know what, I told myself on my way over here that I was gon’ try and let this jealous mess and your smart comments go. But don’t push me. And by the way, don’t think Fresh didn’t tell me how you told him that I was hanging out with K-Rock. I don’t appreciate that, but I’ma let it slide. For now.”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Whatchu want? I’m busy.”

  I smiled. “I gotta show you somethin’.” I reached in my pouch and pulled out two sandwich baggies full of nickel bags of bud.

  “What’s that?” Yvette asked, unimpressed.

  “What you think it is? This is our way outta here! This is the plan. We gon’ sell this at the park, and when school starts up, we gon’ open up shop there. Get our crew, Munch and Cali, we gon’ each take a floor, whatever floor your homeroom is on, is gon’ be where you sling. We gon’ run the school like the block.”

  “And you gon’ get it in school, knowing they got security and metal detectors.”

  I smiled and rubbed my hands together. “Peanut butter and jelly, baby.”

  “What?”

  “I’ma pack half-empty jars of peanut butter with sandwich bags of weed. Security is not about to look all through the jar, digging through peanut butter.”

  “The smell?”

  “Won’t be no smell. The peanut butter absorbs it.” Yvette smirked and clapped her hands. “Bra.Vo. Sounds like you and Fresh got this all worked out.”

  “This don’t have nothing to do with Fresh. He just the connect, so to speak. And after a while, and we re-up and sell out a few times, before you know it, you gon’ have enough money so that you and Kamari can get your own crib before you turn even eighteen.”

  “Did I ask you to go apartment huntin’ for me? No, I don’t think I did.”

  I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Look, I’m trying to help you out, so you can get this money.”

  “So now I’m s’pose to work for you?”

  “This ain’t about you working for me. This is about money. And about having a better hustle than stealing clothes out the mall, ’cause judging by your gear lately, that ain’t going that great.”

  “Oh, now you wanna put me down? You ain’t say all that when I was boosting for me and you, so we could have something fly to wear to school. I ain’t hear you runnin’ your mouth then, but now you think you better than me!”

  “I’m not trying to put you down!” I snapped. “I’m not even trying to argue with you. I’m trying to help you out and maybe you can have a better life to take care of Kamari.”

  “No thank you. I don’t know why you allllllll of a sudden
you’re so worried about me and Kamari. It ain’t like we’ve seen you in the past two weeks. And now you wanna come up in here tryna sell me some pipe dreams!”

  “The word pipe is probably the last word that need to be comin’ outta your mouth. But you know what, I’m not gon’ beg you. Drugs sell themselves. So either you down or you not.”

  “I’m down, but it ain’t witchu. I got my own hustle and maybe you too good for it now, but it’s working for me. So you step off with your so-called dreams and your fake ambition. Runnin’ around here like Fresh is the president. But I don’t need you, Fresh, or that whack-ass weed.”

  “Know what? I’m finished with you. You got problems and I can’t solve ’em.”

  “I didn’t ask you to. Now, good-bye. Leave. Up in here tryna pimp me.”

  “Pimp you? Mph, no, I won’t be pimpin’ you. Flip gon’ handle that.”

  34

  Dying to move

  Funky fresh, dressed to impress, ready to party... blasted from the deejay’s turntable as I glided into the park, nodding my head to the music and refusing to let thoughts of Yvette wreck my flow.

  The sun was shining, the park was packed, and as usual this was the place to be. The B-boys were doing their thing on the cardboard, the D-boys were shootin’ dice. The basketball court was in the midst of a pick-up game, and everybody else was just chillin’ and vibing to the music.

  “What’s up, sexy?” The deejay smiled and nodded his head at me.

  I smiled back, and swayed a little to the tune he’d just dropped. “I’m just chillin’, listening to the music, trying to see what you over here doing.” I put a little extra boom in my bop, to make it seem like his deejaying was just that crazy. “Do you scratch?”

  “Do I?” He showcased his skills.

  “Yo, that was stupid fresh. Straight ill. You did that.”

  He grinned. “So what you got goin’ on?”

  “Well, right now I’m checking you out, tryna see what you about.”

  He blushed. “Well, if you hand over them digits, then you can get to know me.”

  I rocked to the beat for a moment. I knew if I could get the deejay to buy a few bags of bud from me, then the rest would be gravy. Especially since the deejay was the heart of the party, and if he liked me and my weed, then I knew it was only a matter of time before he rounded up some clientele for me.