by K'wan
“It ain’t like that. I just don’t wanna be a hustler.”
“News flash for ya, kid. Every successful person in the world is a hustler in one way or another. We all hustle to get where we need to be. Only a fool would sit around and wait on another man to feed him.”
“I hear where ya coming from, Prince, but I ain’t hard to please. I’d be content to get a decent li’l gig and a crib of my own. As long as I ain’t starving and my bills are paid, I’m cool.”
All Prince could do was shake his head. He had been trying to get Rio back to working for him full-time ever since he came home from lockup. But every time he propositioned Rio, he would always go into his speech about getting a nine to five. He had been on countless interviews with no luck, but Prince still tried him every chance he got.
Before Rio went away, he was getting heavy in the game. The kid ate, slept, and shit money. That's the main reason Prince had taken a liking to him. Rio would be the first nigga on the block and the last nigga to leave. Everyone thought that when he came home, he would be right back on the grind. But Rio had changed while he was away. He wasn’t a coward, but he was much more serious about his life and not wasting it. Some people took this as Rio going soft, but Prince knew better. The kid was just growing up.
“Rio, I’m gonna give you some advice,” Prince said. “You’re a good kid, but you got low expectations for ya self. All through school you got good grades, even managed to get ya self a li’l degree. But where has it gotten you? Yo ass ain’t no closer to a plush pad on Park Ave. You still out here playing corners like the rest of these ma fuckas.”
“In due time, Prince.”
“Due time, my ass. You better wake up and smell the green. Only a man willing to take his destiny into his own hands is ever gonna make something of himself. Food for thought, hear?”
Prince made more sense than a li’l bit. Rio had indeed finished his education and tried to take his life a step beyond the expected. But so far he didn’t have shit. Rio had gone on at least seven interviews in the last few months. All of them turned up dead ends. Ever since he took a fall, people began to treat him as if he had the plague. No one wanted a convicted felon working for them. Sure he had a degree, but it was from a two-year school. Nowadays, that wasn’t even good enough. He had high hopes for an interview that he would be going on that week, but part of him expected to be passed over. Becoming a member of the working class was beginning to look dismal for him. So he had to hustle until things changed. If they changed. Rio wanted more from his life, but fast cash was the order of business.
“Anyhow,” Prince continued, “let me tell you why I came down so I can get from round you sorry ma fuckas. I’m having a li’l thang tomorrow night, at the Cotton Club. My son, Truck, is finally getting his stupid ass outta the clink. Let's hope he can stay out this time. It's by invite only and you invited.”
“Thanks, Prince,” Rio said, shaking his hand. “Is it all right if I bring people with me?”
“Yeah, it's cool. Just don’t bring none of them hood niggaz you hang with.”
“Why you always gotta rank on my friends, Prince?” Rio asked, frustrated.
“Cause you too smart to be running round with assholes. You better listen to an old-timer, Rio. Cut them hard luck niggaz loose.” “I hear you, Prince.”
“Don’t just hear me, listen, too. Them niggaz is trouble waiting to happen. Here,” Prince said, peeling off five hundred dollars, “take ya li’l girlfriend out, or buy ya self something.”
“I can’t take this from you, Prince.”
“See, that's what I mean by you being stupid. You never turn down free money. Now get up off this hot-ass block. School Boy can finish out ya shift.”
“A’ight, Prince. Thanks again.”
“No problem, kid. I expect to see you tomorrow night. Bring li’l Tiffany wit you.”
“Her name's Trinity. And I just might do that.”
“Whatever, Rio. Just have yo ass there.” Prince nodded at Li’l J and they made their way back up the block. As Rio watched the duo leave, he couldn’t help but think, Prince sure has had it together. Rio promised himself that one day he’d be holding his own paper. It was hard eating from the hands of another man, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do.
2
Trinity sat inside the library on 100th Street, trying to make heads or tails out of the GED prep book. She did okay with the reading part; it was the math that frustrated the hell out of her. The more Trinity thought about it, the more she wished she’d finished high school when she had the chance.
It's not like she was a bad student, or she wasn’t smart enough to keep up, but circumstances had sidetracked her. To be so young, she had a lot of responsibilities weighing on her. She had to take care of both her brothers and her father. When her mother was alive, things were much simpler, but after she died, everything went downhill. Trinity's grades began to slip and she became more and more distracted. Eventually she just stopped going altogether.
Trinity decided that she was long overdue for a smoke break. She stretched her five-foot-four frame and felt a little better. She snatched up her knapsack and headed for the exit. As she walked out of the library, she could feel people watching her. That's what happened when you were young and beautiful.
Trinity had a cute round face and the most alluring hazel eyes. When Trinity entered a room, people couldn’t help but stare. Not only was she pretty in the face, but she had a body for days. Nothing on Trinity was too large or too small. Everything was just right. Her wavy black hair stopped around midback when she let it hang down loose, but she mostly wore it in corn rows, or box braids. It was easier to keep that way.
Trinity managed to ignore the stares instead of lashing out, as she was known to do. She knew a man was going to be a man, but she didn’t like to be gawked at. By the time she made it outside, she decided to extend her smoke break indefinitely.
She strolled up 100th Street in no particular hurry. Before she got to the corner, she heard someone calling her name. She turned around to see Alexis and Joyce waving at her. Trinity stopped and allowed the girls a chance to catch up.
Alexis was a pretty Trinidadian girl from the projects. She had a caramel complexion with hair almost as long as Trinity's. Alexis was one of those girls who looked more Spanish than black. Many a time they had been out and dudes would roll up on her speaking Spanish. Trinity used to laugh but it frustrated the hell outta Alexis. The only thing that really gave her away was her ass. Alexis's booty looked like two basketballs tucked in her jeans.
Joyce was just a girl Trinity tried her best to be nice to. She wasn’t as pretty as the other two girls, but she still walked around like her shit didn’t stink. She was a dark-skinned girl with short nappy hair, which she mostly wore in a weave. Joyce was also a notorious busybody. She was always gossiping about who got what and who was fucking who. It irked the hell out of Trinity but she was nice to the girl because she was Alexis's friend.
“What up, bitches?” Alexis asked, hugging Trinity. “Where you been hiding?”
“Please,” Trinity said. “I been trying to get ready to take this GED.” “Again? Damn, this is the second time. Girl, I hope you pass it.” “Me, too.”
“Well,” Joyce cut, “you asked me, I’d say the hell with it.”
“Well,” Trinity said, cutting her eyes, “nobody asked you, Joyce.” “Damn, Trinity. Let me find out you light-skinned bitches is sensitive.”
“Joyce, I’ve asked you time and again, stop calling me out my name.”
“Gosh, Trinity. I didn’t mean it like that. Shit, Alex can call you out ya name and you don’t chew her head off.”
“Cause, that's my bitch and I fucks wit her like that. I don’t fuck wit you like that.”
“Why don’t the both of you bitches knock it off?” Alexis said, trying to avoid the drama.
“Whatever, Alex. So, where y’all just coming from?”
“Oh, we went to the mo
vies with Tommy and his man Dave.”
“Oh, y’all fucking wit them niggaz?”
“Hell yeah,” Alexis said, giving Joyce a high five. “That nigga Tommy is fine.”
“I hear that,” Trinity said, pulling out her pack of cigarettes. “But mister fine also got a crazy baby mama.”
“Shit,” Alexis said, helping herself to a cigarette. “That's his problem. I ain’t got nothing to do with that.”
“A’ight. One of these days you gonna fuck with the wrong bitch's man.”
“Well, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. And who the hell are you to preach? Trinity, yo trifling ass used to play the game right along with me.”
“Yeah, I had my fifteen minutes of fame, but that was before. Things are different now, Alex.”
“Um hmm. The only difference is Rio is blowing ya back out now.” “That nigga is fine,” Joyce said.
“Joyce,” Trinity said, lighting her cigarette. “Don’t get fucked up, a’ight?”
“There you go wit that shit, Trinity. I was just trying to give you ya props. Please, don’t nobody want ya man,” Joyce lied.
“I’ll bet.” Trinity knew damn well that Joyce would fuck Rio in a heartbeat. She wasn’t fooling anybody with that fake sisterly love shit. A girl from 112 Street had whipped Joyce out over the summer for fucking with her man. Joyce was grimy like that.
“So, what's up for tonight?” Alexis asked.
“I dunno, girl,” Trinity said. “I’ll probably just kick it wit Rio.”
“I hear that shit,” Joyce said. “I heard it's gonna be some ballers in Vertigo tonight. I’m trying to get up in there.”
“That's ya problem right there,” Trinity said with attitude. “All you ever think about is dick. Life has more to offer than a nut.”
“Shit, I can’t tell.” All the girls laughed at that one. “But, seriously T. You need to roll wit us.”
“I dunno, Joyce.”
“Bitch, knock it off,” Alexis said. “Rio's still gonna be here. Why don’t you come shake ya ass a li’l? Maybe it’ll bring you out of ya slump.”
“I ain’t in no slump, hoe. I just like to spend time with my man.”
“Which is all the more reason why you need to come with us. You and Rio are together twenty-four/seven. Give ya selves a chance to miss each other.”
Trinity thought about it for a minute. It had been quite some time since she went clubbing. Since she got with Rio she saw less and less of her girls. When she was with Rio she felt safe, but those times when he wasn’t there she felt more alone than a little bit. She missed kicking it with her bitch, Alexis. What could one night hurt?
“A’ight,” Trinity said, tossing her cigarette. “What time we rolling?”
“That's the Trinity I know,” Alexis said, hugging her girl. “I’ll be by to pick you up at about eleven.”
“Oh, you pushing?”
“Girl, you know how I do. That nigga Church is letting me hold his jeep. Let me worry about the details. Just have yo ass ready by eleven.”
Rio stepped off the elevator and exhaled. The smell of the projects was bad enough on its own, but niggaz pissing up the tiny elevators didn’t help. It seemed like you couldn’t ride the elevators anymore, without stepping in piss or being overwhelmed by the stench of it.
He strode down the hall past the graffiti and other scribbling until he reached his apartment. Before putting his key in the lock, he listened at the door. The sounds of Harold Melvin blared through the door. This meant two things. His mother was home and she was drunk.
Rio entered the apartment and looked around in disgust. There was a week's worth of laundry scattered all over the floor. He thought that buying a washer and dryer would put an end to the buildup, but it didn’t. He walked into the tiny, yellow kitchen and saw the same dishes in the sink from three days ago. He loved his mother dearly, but her utter laziness turned him off.
Rio walked into the living room and there was Mama. Sally was already a naturally thin woman, but the drinking had her looking damn near skeletal. Her once smooth skin was now splotchy from constant abuse of her body. At one time Sally had been a beautiful blues singer. Now she looked more like a walking corpse.
“There's my boy,” Sally said, exposing a near-toothless grin. “What's up, baby?”
“Hey, Ma,” Rio said flatly.
“Boy, don’t you see nobody else in here? Come on in and speak to Willie.”
Willie was Sally's on-again, off-again boyfriend. He was a dark-skinned dude with salt-and-pepper hair that had began to grow thin on the top. Willie was an alcoholic/crackhead. Back in the days he was a big player in the game, but now he was just another hype. Somebody must’ve forgot to tell Willie that he wasn’t a star anymore, because he still tried to act like he was balling.
“Sup, Willie?” Rio said.
“Mister-man,” Willie said, standing. “What it be like, young blood?” “I’m chilling.”
“How we looking out there?”
“Excuse me?” Rio asked, frowning.
“I say, how we looking? Ya know, on the block?”
“I couldn’t tell you, Willie.” Rio shrugged. “Seeing how I’m in here instead of out there, I wouldn’t know. But don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know when things pick up.”
Rio was sure that Sally knew about his side activities, but he didn’t like to throw it under her nose like that. And Willie was always trying to drop little hints for her to pick up on. He called himself trying to be funny, but Rio called it dry snitching. As opposed to choking Willie's skinny ass, Rio went into his room and slammed the door.
He kicked off his shoes and tossed his coat over the back of his computer chair. His answering machine boasted four new messages, but he didn’t feel like being bothered. He started to call Trinity until he remembered that she was studying at the library.
Rio picked up the small picture frame from his dresser and wiped away a thin layer of dust. Rio was the spitting image of the man in the picture. They had the same curly hair and sharp chin. The man was dressed all in black, holding his fist high in the air. Sally was at his side, playing the proud wife.
Rio didn’t really remember the man who had fathered him, but he’d heard many stories. He was a legend in the streets but not from being in the drug game. Rio's father had been a Panther. The way Sally told it, Rio's father, whose name was Amir, was a respected man amongst his peers. He was down for what he believed in until the day the justice system took him from the world.
Back in the late ‘70s Amir and some of his comrades attempted to break an inmate out of the Atlanta Federal Pen. The inmate had been an eighteen-year-old boy on death row awaiting execution for a murder he hadn’t commited. During the attempted breakout, ten people were injured and three were killed, two of whom were law enforcement agents. The entire team was captured and charged with treason and murder. The other men copped out, but not Amir. He stood strong behind his cause and his pride. He ended up riding that pride straight to the gas chamber. Amir was one of the last men to be executed in the state of Georgia.
When Rio's father was killed, Sally went downhill. In her depression, she turned to the bottle to ease her hurt. But no matter what, Sally never let Amir's memory die. She made sure that Rio knew what kind of man his father had been. A champion of the people.
Rio turned on his CD player and flopped down on his futon. He lit a blunt and let his mind coast while TQ crooned about wanting his girlfriend's sister. And in sleep, Rio's mind found a temporary escape.
Trinity entered her three-bedroom apartment and found it silent for once. That meant her brothers weren’t home and her drunk-ass father was either passed out or running the streets. It didn’t matter to her either way. The important thing was she could have some quality time to herself.
Trinity tried not to feel sorry for herself most of the time, but she was only nineteen and life had seen fit to thrust her into the role of homemaker way before she was ready. When her mother
was alive, life hadn’t been too bad. They were still poor and her father still drank uncontrollably, but at least there was someone in the house who actually cared about her.
Trinity was barely fourteen when her mother contracted the HIV virus. By the time she turned fifteen, she was gone. Her mother didn’t do drugs or sleep around on her father. She was just misfortunate enough to get a raw deal on a blood transfusion. Janice was Trinity's best friend as well as the person who brought her into the world. Losing her mother, coupled with everything else that was going wrong in her life, was almost too much for Trinity to bear. She had considered taking her own life, but she knew her family would need her.
When her mother passed, it had been up to her to take care of her father and two brothers. She didn’t mind at first. Taking care of the house kept her mind off the loss of her mother. She was even able to put up with her father's drinking. Everything was all good, until the touching started.
Her father would pinch her developing breasts and tease her about how she was getting old on him. Then he took to rubbing himself against her ass when he would pass her in the hall. Still Trinity tried to tell herself it was nothing. In her mind, she made a million excuses for her father. But the excuses ran out the night her father came into her room drunk.
Her mother had been gone maybe four or five months on that horrible night. Trinity had been sleeping when her father's sobs woke her. She opened her eyes and saw him standing in her doorway holding a fifth in one hand and a picture of her mother in the other. He was crying like a baby, talking about how much he missed his wife.
Trinity's father sat on the edge of her bed and patted her leg. Trinity, trying to be the good daughter, sat up and held her father in her arms and tried to console him. After a while his sobbing stopped. She continued to pat his back comfortingly, feeling good about being there for her father in his time of need. Then she felt his hand slide up under her nightgown. He turned his head to kiss her, and she tried to push him away. He kept slurring about how pretty she was and how much she looked like her mother, Janice. Trinity tried to fight but he had been too strong for her. The next thing she knew he had his hand clamped over her mouth and was penetrating her.
