Around the Way Girls 9
Page 26
Hearing my stomach grumble, the big girl in me was starving. I hadn’t eaten since last night’s weed-induced munchies attack. It was time to get down in the kitchen before the landlord arrived. I was bound to regurgitate tricking with him on an empty stomach for sure, so this was a precautionary measure, too. In the short time I had, I prepared a pot of extra cheesy grits, pork link sausages, and wheat toast, topping it off with an ice-cold glass of tropical fruit punch Kool-Aid Cori made last night. My plate could barely cool down before I was scarfing the food down my throat. I was hungrier than two fat starved hostages. Once I swallowed the last bite, my phone rang. Mr. Goldstein must’ve sensed I was close to falling into a food-induced coma. My head was more than ready to hit the pillow.
“You better sign where necessary and fax these papers before end of business today, old man.” I shoved in his face a copy of the illegitimate forms my caseworker shut down earlier. “And next time you get something about me from them, you better make me your first call.” Repulsed that I had to jack him off, I wiped his thick, sticky goo from my hand onto the rag I’d brought out. It was so nasty and disgusting but what other choice did I have? With a case pending for welfare fraud, the only thing that mattered to me was preventing the charges. I didn’t care nor expect my assistance case to be reopened.
“I’m gonna be calling your sweet brown self all right. With all that goodness, I’d like to call you first for a lot of things. How about we go by our spot for a few hours? Make ya’self a little change? Let me taste that black sweetness?” Mr. Goldstein reached over and rubbed my thigh thinking the proposition of money could make me wet. But money can’t make you cum in all situations. For a middle-aged businessman he should’ve turned me on. Instead, everything about him grossed me out.
“Naw, I ain’t late on my rent and don’t plan to be. Just make sure you sign those papers.” Sticking to the most important matter at hand, I didn’t want him to get deflected nor feeling some type of way at being dismissed.
“You’ll be calling by the fifth.” He squeezed my thigh again, this time trying to slide his hand up farther. He was an old, dirty bastard.
I cringed and moved over in an attempt to let him know his plan wasn’t about to go down.
“I hope you’re late so I can charge a fee. Them slob jobs you’re so good at have me sleeping like a baby.” He winked before hitting the unlock button, signaling me to get out.
“I plan on having your cash on time this go-around, Mr. Goldstein. But please make sure to keep your word and fax those papers. If they lock me up for welfare fraud you won’t be getting none of this.”
“A deal is a deal. Plus I’ve been counting on you to get me off at least once a week for the last year. I wouldn’t dare ruin a good thing. I’ll have them faxed with a recant by tonight.”
“Thanks, babe.” I gritted my teeth then leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. At this point I was working hard by laying it on thick. I could feel his dirty old man eyes fixated on my curves as I sashayed up the walkway so I made sure to put an extra pep in my step and switch to my plump behind with confidence to keep his mouth watering. Once he honked the horn and pulled off, I knew his clammy hand was wrapped tightly around his pink peckerwood.
“Cori. Hey, niece,” Uncle Spook called, coming from across the street. It wasn’t even noon and he was already sipping on a beer, a cheap one at that. Not really my uncle, but the oldest dopefiend from around the way, everyone from the neighborhood gave him the handle as way of showing him a little respect.
“Nothing much, Unc, about to go crash. My worker was on the tip this morning at my appointment and sucked the life out of me. You know how that goes.”
“Shit, I can’t stand them cock suckers down there,” he slurred, smelling like straight Paul Mason. “Did you hear me and my boys steal that big heavy-ass awning off of the porch last night from that corner house?” Spook kept talking, dismissing the fact that I’d just said I was tired. “That scrap paid out big time for us, so we’re about to hit all of these abandoned houses around here.” Seeing the hood at its best, Spook should have felt a little guilt for tearing his community down. He should’ve been preaching to the youth to have brighter days, rallying against the thieves, drug dealers, and common criminals who peddled to the poor, and pumping hope into his hometown. Instead, Uncle Spook was contributing to the failed black man statistic. His whole purpose in life was to hustle the next man in his ploy to get high.
“Naw, for real? That shit is crazy. I don’t see how y’all pulled that off without getting the cops called ’cause that shit was big. It had to be loud, too.” Biting my tongue, catching myself from clowning Spook too hard, my real question was how his skinny, crack-rock-hunting ass lifted anything over a few pounds. I guessed with a rock being involved, Superman strength was possible.
“Yeah, but we wasn’t playing, niece. I’m for real. Tonight at like four a.m. we’re gonna hit up the house next door to you. So don’t be alarmed coming out to shoot ol’ Uncle Spook.” Even though he was laughing, Spook knew that under the right circumstances, which would be the wrong for him, I’d do him in. When it came to my safety, no one’s well-being mattered.
“Spook, you crazy. Don’t come down this way fucking up my sleep. G’on around the corner to those duplexes or go steal everything down to the paint chips somewhere else.” I laughed at him, still trying to make my way up the porch stairs into the house.
“If you’re going to Mike’s gambling party later, we can hit it then. Everyone worth it will be over there so they won’t know me and my boys working.”
I wasn’t comfortable with Spook probing me for my night plans. No matter how cool he was or how friendly the exchange seemed between us, he was still a fiend and in street rules that meant not to be trusted. I wasn’t getting ready to let him know my exact schedule of when my house was going to be empty. Spook was a lurker from the outside who never deserved to know what was on the other side of my door’s threshold. “I can’t call what I’m doing yet, but one of us will probably go. But the way I feel, I’ll probably be posted while Nique goes to show face.” This way he wouldn’t know if my house was empty or not, unless he saw us with his own two eyes. We could trust Spook enough not to be distrusted, but where I’m from, giving a person the opportunity to be disloyal was sometimes a legitimate reason enough to get played.
“Let’s blow one, niece. I know that old Goldstein dude set you right.” Spook was relentless, always looking for a handout or a freebie. I had to give the old man credit for persistently trying.
“Naw, I’m straight, Unc. I’ve gotta stay focused for the rest of the day. You know I have to keep a clear head when I make my runs.” I turned down the offer to smoke with him as usual. Me and Spook weren’t about to share a blunt, no way, no how. We weren’t on the same level no matter what he thought. “I’ve got this bag of shake that might equate to a nickel bag,” I said, tossing it to him on the humble. Spook was a clear reminder of what I’d be in for if Wally could put me on with some work: niggas coming at me for credit.
Chapter Five
Nique
All I could think about, stretching the thick black stocking cap over my client Tasha’s big head for a quick weave, was that I couldn’t wait to be done. I wanted to clear house, get off my feet, then rest up for my cousin Mike’s party. It had been an exhausting week with my boyfriend Vic pulling dodge moves on me. I knew that nigga was freezing up getting scared at the possibility of having a permanent responsibility with me, but I wasn’t about to walk this line alone. Me and him had been inseparable for the past six months so I thought he was about to wife me up. Silly me for thinking with my heart and not my coochie. If I would’ve kept it ratchet like the no-class-having heifers he liked to run up in did, my woes would be nonexistent. I couldn’t wait until I was around my family so I could unwind. Between Vic and today’s traumatic events, everything in my world seemed to be flipped upside down. As I stared out of the taped-up broken window, my
mind drifted down memory lane.
Doing hair has been my main hustle since I was a young girl on the block. It came second nature to me. In our shallow-pocket home, I was the basement beautician. I learned how to grease my momma’s scalp, lay her with a press and curl, and even knot up some tied zillions like the Africans. The more time my mom spent in the streets partying, the more women came knocking on our door looking to get hair appointments. Neither one of us were into turning money down so she allowed me to service the entire neighborhood from the washroom in our basement. I brought more cash into the house than she did. My trade was nothing but an asset for her and I did it all: twenty-seven pieces, weave coloring jobs, sew-ins, blow-and-go’s, and I even specialized in natural hair care. Please believe I was a beast with the scissors and could leave your hair flawlessly laid.
“Hey, Nique, I’m about to take a quick nap. Wake me up when you’re done with this hot and ready.” Cori laughed, purposely putting my client on blast. Her bluntness snapped me back to reality quick.
“Hot and ready? What’s that supposed to mean?” Tasha played dumb with Cori, already knowing what it meant.
“Don’t front boo-boo. You already know that means you’re quick, fast, and cheap.” Cori was cutting into Tasha with no remorse.
“Quit playing, Corielle. I ain’t got time for your jokes and shit today.” You could tell Tasha was annoyed by the way she smacked her lips. However, she never denied the allegations on the table. “G’on and take your troublemaking behind back to forging documents, or whatever it was you were about to do,” Tasha said, shooing Cori away. I knew Cori didn’t care about the low blow. She lived by the hustle; therefore she gave it much respect.
“Me leaving won’t change your truth. But sure, I’ll go.” Cori continued mocking Tasha until she completely disappeared back into her bedroom. All I could do was laugh. As always, Cori had my back. She knew my motives with Tasha weren’t good. I was on some sneaky, vindictive, payback type shit. Tasha could probably sense my mood. I could feel her intentionally jerking her head around and making smart comments about me and my roommate underneath her breath. It was easy to let the remarks roll off of my back. There were bigger deceitful plots brewing. It was time to get to work. Carefully spreading the black bonding glue across the thick weft of her Milky Way weave track, I couldn’t help but smirk knowing it was mixed with super glue. I was about to go down as Tasha’s number one enemy in life. After aggressively laying it horizontally onto her head, I pushed down onto the sides extra hard making sure the adhesive stuck.
“Dang, Nique, between you and your girl, I don’t know which one of you is worse. What’s wrong with you?” Tasha was responding to me squeezing her temples with no remorse.
“I can’t speak for Cori but I’m good.” I laughed, playing it off. “Just sit still so I can get you right. You know I gotta make sure this shit holds.” Only half of the plan was completed. Unbeknownst to Tasha, because this was normal routine, I sprayed a generous amount of spritz across the same super-bonded weft then blow-dried the area until she cringed from the excessive amount of heat. It was pure bliss to watch her in so much discomfort. She had no idea I could be this ruthless.
“You’re right. I’m not trying to have my tracks slipping while I’m on the pole. Plus I’ve got a date lined up that’s planned to get a little hot and heavy; my shit has to be whipped.” Hearing Tasha’s voice was making my skin crawl. This trick better be happy I was about my bread. Too bad for her I was a sneak like Cori was a fraud and was all about getting revenge on the sly. Rumor had it she’d been tricking for my dude getting hers while I kept her looking A1 for him. Well it was timeout for that. Since I was the one lucky enough to have trapped his seed in my womb, I was looking to knock any and all other chicks off his radar. What potential baby momma wouldn’t? I wanted my full sixty dollars and couldn’t wait for her to come looking to cash in on an ass kicking once she realized I’d purposely made her baldheaded. Jesus Christ Himself was gonna have to lay hands on her head to get this quick weave out.
“Oh I got you. It’ll be tight so you can make that the least of your worries.” Putting extra glue and spritz on first the stocking cap then the weft, I watched with a grin growing on my face as it bled through onto her natural hair. This trick was gonna learn her lesson about creeping with any taken nigga of mine.
Tasha sat back playing on her phone while I worked hard at getting retaliation. It took me no time to clip her layers, wand her curls, and pocket her cash. These three twenties were going straight to the “get rid of it” fund, if a collection was even necessary.
“Girl, you’re a beast at doing hair.” Tasha complimented me while checking her reflection in the mirror. “You always get me together.”
“No doubt, girl, that’s what I do.” Playing it off, now sweeping into a pile the hair I’d cut, I was ready for her to poof and disappear. With more serious matters at hand in addition to being preggo, I couldn’t give her the proper ass whopping she had coming.
“Let me get up out of here before your cranky-ass roommate comes back up here ready to pop off.” She now was the one trying to perp. “Pen me in the schedule for next week, same time.”
“Cool. I got you. Tell my old dude I’ll be waiting up if you see him down at the club.” I couldn’t help but throw hints that I knew she checked for Vic.
“Oh fa’sho, no doubt.” Tasha hurriedly scattered toward the door. “That’s if I see him.” The dumb look on her face told me she was cold busted and the rumors were true.
“Girl, bye, I ain’t stupid. You already know the hood been talking. Just tell him to get at me. It ain’t nothing.”
“Whoa, wait up. First, Corielle cuts into me about being a hot and ready then you snap out the side of your neck about me having sidebars with your dude. If you got something to say, then say it.”
“From what you’re playing back to me, you’ve already heard where me and my girl are coming from. I don’t know how many ways to spell h-o to you.” My pregnancy hormones couldn’t be contained.
“Ho? That ain’t right, Ta’Nique. Me and you go back to elementary school. I’d never cross the line with your dude. We’re better than that.” Tasha tried to get emotional but she was using the oldest line in the book. I wasn’t falling for it.
I couldn’t believe this fake, cheap-weave-wearing broad had the balls to be lying through her teeth straight to my face. The hood hadn’t lied and the innuendo Facebook statuses hadn’t either. Tasha was checking for Vic and bold enough to slither her snake ass around me. “I don’t put nothing past nobody, you included. Let’s not make this about no Barbie doll bullshit, Tasha, we’re way too grown for that now. You’ve been tricking with my dude, you thought I was dumb, but you’re gonna be looking like a clown in the end.” Clapping my hands at each point made, I was getting hype ready to tear a mud hole off into her ass. I wanted Cori to hear the commotion so she could swoop in to help tag team Tasha. With the cash pocketed and the underhanded dirty deed done, all hell could break lose for all I cared. The beef was wide out in the open now.
“On that note, I’m about to bounce.” She slung over her shoulder the stolen Michael Kors purse Corielle sold her a few weeks back. “I’ll pass ya nigga the word but please, baby girl, any beef you got with him, take it up with him. I ain’t the one. Despite what these broke-back bitches around here speak up on me, I ain’t no foul friend!” Turning to march out the house, Tasha could’ve spared me the loyal friend speech. She was as low-down and grimy as I was a vindictive sneak. Gluing her bald was enough payback for me, for now.
“Bitch, be gone. I’ve got bigger fish to fry. I’ll catch up with you on the flip side,” I spoke out loud into the now-empty dining room, tossing the mixed tainted glue into the trash. I paid no mind to Tasha revving her engine, or burning rubber out of my driveway. I sent Vic a quick message that I just got at his slut bucket so the score had been leveled. I knew his low-down dirty behind was too much of a coward to admit to being busted,
or even question me on what I meant. So instead of holding the phone waiting like a fool, I turned the ringer off, promising myself not to sweat his little stack-having ass. Besides, if he was running up in ol’ trife-life Tasha, condom or not, he was marked for a future shot of antibiotics with a dose pack of pills. Ugh, he makes me sick.
Warming up a bowl of grits and the one spare sausage Cori was barely nice enough to leave me, I could barely get it out of the kitchen before I was smacking on a mouthful. This right here was on point! Out of nowhere I started to feel lightheaded, nauseated, and repulsed by the food I was swallowing.
Oh shit, say it ain’t so. I covered my mouth quickly as I gagged hard, almost letting it rip all over the floor. Run to the bathroom, stupid! I couldn’t get over the fact this was actually happening. I took off at full speed and barely made it to the toilet before all of the grits, cheese, and sausage was right back in front of me.
I guess it’s so. I’m pregnant.
Chapter Six
Corielle
Ta’Nique and I lay back in her bed watching a scorned woman saga on Lifetime while blowing through a blunt. We both needed this downer as today thus far had been long. As we sat in silence I tried to read her mind. We’d been friends for so long; I could tell something was wrong. Her whole aura and disposition was off and I thought it had to do with Tasha and Vic. If the rumors were true, Nique had every right to be offended and pissed. Whatever the case, I had to play the friend card so she could start feeling better. My girl simply wasn’t herself. It felt good to be totally still and relaxed. All that came to an end once my phone vibrated and disturbed my sleep. I snatched it up with the quickness hoping I could send the call to voicemail but it was Wally who’d sent the text message. So much for resting.