by Joy
Anger took over Kera’s emotions. She looked around the room to see what she could pick up to throw at Dollar. Her eyes settled on a crystal base lamp that was on the nightstand.
Dollar, noticing Kera’s intentions, quickly walked up on her. “Bitch, don’t even think about it,” Dollar said.
“Now I’m a bitch, too,” Kera cried. “I can’t believe this is happening. What’s happening to you?”
“You talking like you know me. You done popped over here a few times to get laid and now you know me? You don’t know me, girl. I’m Dollar Bill. I’m that muthafucka. You lucky to be one of my chosen ones.”
“Well, I don’t feel so lucky. I feel like I’ve just been raped.”
“Oh, so now you ’bout to pull a Mike Tyson situation and scream rape. I guess I better walk you down to the car so that I can avoid catching a case,” Dollar said.
“Funny you should make the comparison. You’re an animal just like him, and it didn’t take twelve jurors to convince the world of that.”
“Here, call 911,” Dollar said, throwing the phone at Kera. She tried to block it from hitting her. It skimmed across her fingers, breaking one of her nails. “If you think I raped you, go ahead and call the police on me. Put me back in jail. But don’t play games with me, girl. You really don’t know who you fuckin’ with. I’m a grown-ass man. You do what you need to do. Either call the police or step. You make the choice.”
“Nah, I don’t need to call the police,” Kera said. “Your punishment will come from a much greater wrath. Mark my words. You think I’m a bitch? Wait until you meet karma.”
“Get the fuck out,” Dollar said, throwing himself on the bed as if nothing mattered to him in the world.
Kera began crying harder. She watched Dollar lie on the bed as if he could do no wrong, as if he had done no wrong all of his life. How could he be so cold? Kera asked herself this question over and over as she walked outside, not caring that tears were flowing down her face.
The people she walked past looked at her with such pity. A couple even stopped to ask her if she was okay.
Kera knew in her heart, and her head, that this would be the last time she would ever make the walk from Dollar’s apartment, and that she would never hear him call her little mama again. But fuck that shit! She wasn’t going to be the young and dumb little number Dollar had taken her for. She wasn’t going to keep falling. Her actions weren’t going to mimic the words to an Alicia Keys hit song.
Kera jumped into her white Saturn that was parked a couple of blocks down. She could hardly get the key in the ignition she was so upset. Once she finally started the car, she sat there and recalled the words her mother had told her during “the talk.”
“The man that breaks your cherry will break your heart, and even ten years down the road when you bump into him on the streets, he’ll still make your heart beat fast and your palms sweat,” her mother had told her.
Instead of going home, Kera went where she could be comforted. She needed someone to talk to who would understand what she was going through.
Kera pulled up to Leece’s house and parked on the curb in front. Her legs wobbled the entire journey to Leece’s doorstep. Her body honestly felt as if it had been abused. She hesitantly knocked on the door.
Leece, wearing her girlie pink J Lo terry cotton short set, peeked through the peephole. She hadn’t talked to Kera since they’d gotten into that argument a couple months ago. She had no hard feelings though. No matter what, Kera was her girl. They’d been friends too long to ever let a dude come between them. She didn’t hesitate to open the door.
When she opened the door, Kera was standing there with her head down. She tried to stop crying long enough to say “hello” and to say “I’m sorry” to Leece, but she couldn’t.
Leece’s eyes watered and her bottom lip trembled at the sight of her heartbroken friend standing before her. She put her arms around Kera. Leece stood there holding Kera for what seemed like forever, holding back the words, “I told you so.”
“You haven’t been in the salon in a while,” Mya said to Dollar as he sat down at her table to get his fingernails worked on.
“I been busy,” Dollar said short.
“Too busy to call?” Mya pried.
“Something like that.”
“I tried calling you all last week,” Mya said as she placed Dollar’s hand in a bowl of water that she knew was too hot.
“Damn!” Dollar said, jerking his hand out.
“Oh, is that too hot for you?” Mya asked sarcastically without getting a rise out of Dollar. She poured some of the water out and added cold water to the bowl. She then placed Dollar’s hand back into the bowl. “Is that better?”
“That’s cool.”
“But, like I was saying,” Mya continued. “I tried calling you all last week.” She began to file the nails on Dollar’s hand that wasn’t in water.
“Oh, for real?” Dollar said, knowing darn well he had seen her number on his cell phone caller ID and ignored the calls. “Ouch.”
Mya had accidentally jabbed Dollar with the nail file. He pulled his hand away from her and checked out his finger to see if any blood had been drawn.
“Is there something on your mind?” Dollar asked Mya. “If it is just cut the crap and spit it out, ma.”
“I need to talk to you,” Mya said.
“I’m listening,” Dollar replied.
“Not here. Can we get together tonight?”
“Here you go,” Dollar said, throwing his hands up.
“And what is that supposed to mean? Oh, let me guess, you just get women left and right wanting to talk to your fine ass, huh? Well, what I have to say is far more important. Trust me,” Mya said.
“Let me just go on and put it out there to save us both the time. Your shit was good, ma. I won’t deny that. But I ain’t really trying to get down like that on no permanent kind of—”
“Don’t fucking flatter yourself,” Mya said, raising her tone. Customers and workers turned their attention to her. “I’m sorry,” Mya apologized to the onlookers before gearing her words back to Dollar. “Look, what I have to say won’t take up much of your precious time.”
Dollar could tell Mya was becoming emotional. That’s what I get for fucking with a white girl, Dollar thought. In the future he knew to stay away from young girls and white girls. He was pretty sure he’d gotten rid of Kera; now for Mya.
“I’ll meet you at your spot at about nine tonight. Is that cool?” Dollar said.
“Yeah,” Mya replied. “I’m sorry for raising my voice and cussing at you.”
“No problem,” Dollar replied. He knew Mya’s dramatics were just an excuse for her to get Dollar back over to her place and in bed again. He didn’t blame her for being addicted. Hell, she had gone black so she couldn’t go back. That was a well-known fact.
Mya finished up Dollar’s nails. He skipped the pedicure today. He had a little bit of business to take care of before meeting up with Mya. As the time neared to meet with Mya, he really just wanted to stand her up and find a new nail tech, but he couldn’t put off the inevitable. So he kept his word and went to her place.
When Dollar showed up at Mya’s, she had a candlelit dinner prepared for the two. Dollar gobbled down the roasted duck, red potatoes, and green beans. He wasn’t impressed with the fancy meal as much as he was hungry.
During dinner, Mya went on and on about her sister and her husband and their two children, about how happy they were. Dollar couldn’t have cared less. He had no intention of ever meeting them.
After dinner, the two engaged in intercourse that wasn’t even worth describing. It was off the hook the last time. Maybe all that liquor had something to do with it. Dollar humped on Mya for about two minutes before he felt himself ready to cum. He snapped the condom off and jerked on Mya’s belly. Dollar then got up, went into her bathroom, and cleaned himself off. When he returned he had a towel in his hand that he had already used to wipe himself off.<
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“Here you go, ma,” Dollar said, throwing the towel at Mya. “Here’s a towel to clean yourself up. I’m fixin’ to go.”
Dollar was hoping that Mya caught on to the significance of him throwing in the towel. He was finished with her. As a matter of fact, he was finished with hoes, period. He wasn’t about to let them fuck up his game by fucking with his head with all of their emotions and drama.
“Dollar, remember, I invited you over here to talk,” Mya said, getting up from out of the bed to slip on her robe.
“Well then talk. I have a lot I have to do tomorrow.”
“I’m pregnant,” Mya blurted out, before she could lose her courage.
Dollar stood speechless momentarily before bursting out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?” Dollar continued laughing. “And I guess I’m the daddy.”
“Of course you are,” Mya said. “I haven’t—”
“Been with anybody else,” Dollar mimicked. “Here we go. Okay, humor me. How much is the abortion going to run me?” Dollar said, pulling money out of his back pocket.
“I’m having this baby. I can’t have an abortion,” Mya said to Dollar as she sat back down on the bed. “It’s against my religion.”
“Oh, and having sex unmarried isn’t?” Dollar said. “Mya, you don’t even know me. I’m just some dude you slept with.”
“And that’s my fault. I’m the one who will have to explain that to the world. But why should I punish this unborn child?” Mya said, rubbing her belly. “I can’t do it. I won’t. Abortion is murder.”
“I don’t even know why you’re laying this on me,” Dollar said. “We were only together one time.”
“News flash; all it takes is one time.”
“And I’m supposed to believe the baby is mine?” Dollar asked.
“Don’t go there,” Mya said. “Please don’t go there.”
“Look, Mya, honey, sweetheart,” Dollar said in a condescending manner. “I’ve never wanted kids. I don’t want any kids now, tomorrow, or yesterday. This baby, if it is mine, ain’t gonna happen.”
“Dollar, I understand where you’re coming from, but you don’t have a choice at this point. I’m having this baby.”
“It’s a no-win situation with bitches,” Dollar snapped. “When y’all get pregnant, the man doesn’t have any choice over whether he wants to be a father.”
“The man has a choice before he lies down and sticks his dick in a woman,” Mya retaliated. “You made a choice not to wear a condom. That’s where your choice started and ended.”
“I am so not hearing this. I am so not fucking hearing this,” Dollar said swinging his fist in the air. No way in hell was a kid in the plan.
“I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t plan for it to happen,” Mya cried.
“Yeah, right,” Dollar said, disbelieving every word Mya uttered.
“Forget it. You don’t have to be a part of this child’s life. This child never has to know you exist. I’ll tell him you were a casualty of war or something.” Mya paused. “I knew telling you was a mistake.”
“You’re not paying attention, Mya,” Dollar said. “This baby is not going to happen. No seed of mine is going to be born. You feel me?”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t tell me what to do with my body. The baby didn’t get to choose whether it wanted to be conceived. It’s not fair to take the baby’s choice of life away.”
“That’s all good, but I believe in pro-choice,” Dollar said. “Abortion isn’t always bad depending on the circumstance. And in this circumstance, where the father doesn’t want the baby or the mother, abortion is the answer.”
“I’m not asking you to want me, Dollar. I believe in pro-choice too, and my choice is to have this baby. Abortion might be the answer for other women, but not me. I won’t have that on my conscience.”
By this time, Dollar was heated. His conversation with Mya wasn’t going anywhere. This dumbass white girl was determined to have this baby. He didn’t want it to get to this point, but it was time for him to pull out his wild card.
“Well, since you believe in pro-choice,” Dollar said as he flipped through his wallet, “here’s five hundred dollars. Bitch, it’s your life or the baby’s. You make the choice.” Dollar threw the money at Mya who had the fear of death in her eyes. She stood trembling as she didn’t mistake Dollar’s words as an idle threat.
Dollar walked up on Mya slowly as he stared her down. “Here’s another two hundred,” Dollar said, throwing the money at Mya. “This is for the couple of days of work you might have to miss while you recuperate after the procedure.” Dollar kissed Mya on the forehead then left her apartment.
A baby, Dollar thought as he stood outside of Mya’s closed door. Maybe a li’l Dollar Bill wouldn’t be so bad. But what did he have to offer a kid? What could he teach a kid? How to hustle? That’s about the only thing his old man had taught him. Maybe things would be different between him and his kid though.
Dollar contemplated walking back into Mya’s apartment and talking things out, maybe hear her out. He was so torn at that point. The fate of another human being’s life was in his hands. Dollar turned around and put his hand on the doorknob to turn it. Mya, who was standing on the opposite side of the door contemplating going after Dollar, watched the knob turn. Maybe she wouldn’t have to go after Dollar after all. Maybe he had changed his mind on his own.
Just before pushing the door open, Dollar said to himself, “I can’t curse my baby. I can’t bring no child into this ghetto-ass shit. Naw, it’s better off dead.”
Mya could hear Dollar’s footsteps walk away. She leaned up against the door and slid down to the floor. Her wailing filled the apartment. She knew what she had to do.
Later on that night Dollar was tossing and turning as sweat dripped from his body. He opened his eyes, which weren’t asleep, just closed, and looked at the clock. It was two o’clock in the morning.
On top of all the female drama Dollar had been dealing with, concerns about Ral had been eating at him as well. The situation with Ral just didn’t feel right at all anymore. Dollar remembered Romeo once telling him that if shit don’t feel right, then it ain’t right.
But this was Ral, not some new jack on the street. This was the same comrade Dollar traded in eight years of his life for. This was the same comrade he had invested so much time in saving. This was his best friend, Ralphie Boy from the playground.
Dollar felt like someone had put a dinner plate covered with delicious foods in front of him right after he had eaten a large pizza. The dilemma between throwing the food out or just eating it so that it didn’t go to waste was tormenting Dollar’s soul.
I should have listened to Tommy in the first place, Dollar lay in bed thinking. Ral was a junkie. A junkie wasn’t any good to anybody. He’d tried to fix him. He’d done his part, hadn’t he? Dollar had given Ral a chance. It was only a matter of time before Ral messed up and took Tommy and Dollar with him.
CHAPTER 23
The Perfect Gift
Dollar, Ral, and Tommy sat in the living room of Ral’s crib. Since Dollar and Tommy’s scare with the po-po at Jimmy’s Coney Island, they hadn’t met back up there since. Dollar suggested they meet at Ral’s until they decided on a new location to discuss dealings. Ral was clueless to the fact that Dollar and Tommy had no intentions on ever meeting with him again.
“Damn,” Ral said. “I didn’t even think you remembered my birthday.”
“How could we forget? We’re family,” Tommy said. She nodded to the envelope she’d just handed Ral. “That’s from Dollar and me.”
Ral opened the envelope and pulled out another piece of paper. It was a gift certificate for a suite at the W in downtown Chicago. “Man, for real?” Ral said with excitement. “This is what I’m talking about.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Dollar said.
“A suite at one of the dopest overnighters in the city, shiiitt. There’s only one other thing that could top that,” Ral sai
d, raising his eyebrows.
“You think I ain’t on top of that?” Dollar winked at Ral. “I knew you’d get lonely up in a big ol’ place like that so I arranged for you to have a little company.”
“See, that’s why you my mafucka,” Ral said, beating on his chest with one hand while pretending to wipe away invisible tears from his eyes with the other.
“That’s all men think about,” Tommy said.
“And good thing we do or else you wouldn’t have a job,” Ral said. “Y’all excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.” Ral got up from the couch and went into the bathroom.
Tommy waited until she heard the bathroom door close before she spoke. “I knew one of the two would be Ral’s downfall,” Tommy said to Dollar. “Pussy or drugs.”
“Yeah, but who ever thought it would be both?”
Tommy had already bumped her head twice on the pole. She even stumbled and almost fell off the stage. “Wine.” The DJ chuckled. “I think you done had a little too much of your name.” He shouted out to the bartender. “Tiwana, just give that ho Shirley Temples the rest of the night.” The patrons in the Chocolate Factory laughed along with the DJ as Tommy exited the stage and went and sat next to Dollar in a corner booth.
“You okay?” Dollar asked a nervous Tommy.
“Hell no. Are you?” Tommy replied. “He’s our boy, D. Maybe we should have just talked to him.”
“Talk is cheap, Tommy. Unless you up in a piece like this, talk is free and gets you nowhere.”
“Look, I can’t think straight. I can’t be up in here, not tonight. I’m gon’ go tell Shay I need to go home.” Tommy excused herself and headed toward Shay’s office.
Dollar sat at the table looking at his watch, knowing that in a few minutes, like two-day-old milk, Ral would be expired.
“Hey, Dollar, right?” some cat said as he strolled up to Dollar.
Dollar put his hand on his chin and eyeballed this cat up and down. He didn’t recognize this fool whose pants were about five sizes too big. “Who wants to know?” Dollar said.
“Oh, it ain’t like that, partna. I’m Kill Dog, ya dude Ral’s boy. I’ve seen you with him a couple of times.” Kill Dog put out his hand to shake Dollar’s. Dollar reluctantly did so.
