by Styles, T.
“Remember…if you ever have to choose between love and power, choose power. Love fades.” With that he kneeled down and lifted his wife’s worn out body off the floor. “Now get ready for school.”
In a daze, Cray looked on as his father carried his mother’s pummeled body to their bedroom. When he was out of sight, his stomach growled and he swallowed his own saliva to feed his hunger, and trudged on to school.
Later That Night
Cray and his friends Jason Felt’s and Markise Johnson walked into an alley a few blocks from over Cray’s place. They were watching neighborhood drug dealers Charm and Grimy Mike shoot craps with big time dealer Melody.
Grimy Mike was already into Melody for over a grand and he was heated. He was embarrassed and felt like taking his tension out on somebody. Glancing at the spectators, he saw Cray and his friends and then his victim.
“Yo, do you got anything without wholes in em?” Grimy asked, referring to Cray’s shoes.
Everybody laughed.
“I got stuff.” Cray said embarrassed as his friends tugged at him to leave.
“Yeah but is any of your stuff, clean? You’s a dusty ass lil nigga! Here take this and by yoself some gear.” He said throwing him a fifty.
Cray looked at the money on the ground and shot him an evil glare.
“And get the fuck from around here.” Grimy continued. “You giving me bad luck!” He told him, as everybody continued to laugh louder.
Cray was embarrassed as he looked at the dealers. He knew they had room to crack on him with their gold chains, fresh sneakers and five hundred dollar coats. And he vowed that one day Grimy would regret everything he said.
They resumed playing the game until they looked up and saw Cray and his friends still there.
“You ain’t get the message?” Charm asked getting in on the fun. “Beat it!”
The friends walked away as well as a medium sized brown shabby stray dog named Frankie that followed them around in the neighborhood.
“Don’t worry about them.” Jason said taking his side.
“Yeah, they dumb anyway!” Markise added as they dipped through the alley on the way to Cray’s house.
To get the attention off of Grimy and them, they talked about Cray’s upcoming birthday. They made plans to come over because Cray’s father said he’d buy a cake, rent movies and pop the boys some popcorn and he couldn’t wait. The three of them were inseparable. And it was certain that if you saw one, you were bound to see the others.
“You see Ms. James today?” Jason struggled with his large blue coat. He was referring to their Math teacher. “Her titties were fat as shit!” He shook his head as he reflected on the low-cut, red top she wore in class. Jason was short and stubby but cute in the face. His beautiful flaxen-colored skin was ideal against his black kinky hair.
Jason’s father and mother were hardly around, but spoiled him with materialistic things. Whatever he wanted he got. Despite everything, all he really wanted was their love. They worked two jobs, trying to buy a home and never spent time with him. Because of his parents’ emotional neglect, he ran to the streets. And as always, the streets embraced him.
“I know! I was thinking the same thing. ” Markise wore a thin red jacket built for the fall instead of the brutal winter. His mother was a hard-working woman and did all she could to cloth him but she simply wasn’t making enough. Despite Markise not having a lot, the girls still loved him because of his smooth personality. He was taller than a lot of boys his age and looked older. His toasted skin and wavy hair were favorites with the fresh girls around his way. “I wanna suck them shits!”
“You ain’t suckin’ shit but my dick!” Cray retorted. He was dressed poorly for the winter weather with a think grey jacket but Cray was a cute little boy. He had the same dark chocolate skin as his parents but his eyes were cold black and held a lot of mystery. And it appeared as if he had a permanent frown on his face. What Cray hated the most about himself was his curly hair believing it made him look soft.
They were still laughing at the idea of Markise sucking Cray’s dick when they approached Cray’s house and stopped. When Cray looked up at his crib, he noticed all of the lights were off, with the exception of the one in the living room and his parent’s room. All he wanted was for things to be normal in his life.
“You wanna check first?” Markise asked as if he could hear his thoughts.
“You wanna give your mother her thin ass jacket back?” Cray didn’t want anybody knowing his parents drug-use got to him.
“Whateva, man!” Markise responded, embarrassed by his comment.
“If ya’ll comin’ in come on!” Cray snapped angrily. “Otherwise you can stay out here ‘cause either way I don’t care.”
“I’m comin’ in,” Jason responded. He wanted so much for Cray to like him that he hung onto his every word. Jason was the one person that thought everything about Cray was cool, including his insubordination.
“Me, too,” Markise added.
The group of friends was just about to walk into the apartment building when dirty, pressed ass Kris loped up and asked if he could come in too. Frankie barked at him so viciously that Markise had to grab him to prevent him from biting him. Kris had dry inky skin and was tall and disheveled, not to mention his hair was knotted and matted to his scalp. He was dirtier than Cray and Cray often ragged on him to make himself feel better.
“Can I come over?” he asked, his hands in his tanned dirty coat pockets, eyeing the mutt.
“Naw, man,” Cray said straight up. “You might piss on my floor or somethin’.”
Kris put his head down.
“Please.” Kris persisted, pressed to hang out with them.
“I said no!” Cray yelled, hitting him in the arm hard.
When he didn’t move Markise said, “Bounce, Kris!” He was trying to protect him from whatever Cray was about to do next.
He held his head down and walked off. When he was gone, Cray jetted up the steps leading to his door with the missing screen. The dog knowing the routine ran down the block. Once inside the run down building, the wooden floor creaked as they walked up the stairwell. He could hear his friends close behind. As he opened the door, he prayed for one indication that things were okay.
Once inside there was a cloud of condensation in the air from Pam cooking all day. The apartment smelled of fried chicken, green beans and the rice brewing on the stove. The moment they came in, she greeted them at the door. The living room was to the left and an old yellow couch sat in the middle of the floor. In front of it, a large wooden older model TV sat as a platform for a smaller one, with pliers sticking out of it as an antenna. Pam wore shades to conceal her bruised eyes and her busted lips still showed the evidence from this morning’s session.
“Take your coats off, boys,” Pam requested, trying to maintain some semblance of control over her household.
“Stop trippin’, bitch! We’ll do it when we get to my room.” Cray put her in check quickly. He had no respect for her whatsoever. “Where’s Dad?”
“In my room fixing Beverly’s clock radio.” She wiped her hands on her apron trying to rid herself of her only child’s emotional abuse.
“Dinner ready?” Cray persisted as he watched his friends grabbing cups out of the kitchen cabinets and pouring Kool-Aid from the fridge all without asking, something he couldn’t dare do at their houses.
“Soon,” Pam said, realizing she was no match for her son’s abrasiveness. She had been broken down so badly that she barely had enough strength to move around without being in pain, let alone defend herself. “I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”
“Well hurry the fuck up, bitch! I’m hungry! And did dad get the stuff for my birthday?”
“No…but he will, son.”
Cray sighed, pivoted on foot then headed toward his room with his friends right behind him, cups still in their hands.
When they got to his bedroom, Cray opened his door and flipped on the light switch. His hea
rt dropped when he saw his father’s pants down by his ankles, with his hands on the back of his mother’s best friend, Beverly’s head, while she blew him off.
Markise and Jason covered their mouths. Although they were excited to see his father getting his dick sucked, Cray was furious. The thing about Cray was this; all he had was himself and his things. So seeing his father’s ass on his neatly made bed, with this woman in his room, upset him. He felt violated. If his father wanted to cheat on his mother, what the fuck was wrong with his own room?
“What ya’ll lookin’ at?” David yelled, as he pushed Beverly off his crotch and stood up to adjust his pants. “You ain’t neva seen a dick before?” He glared at the boys.
The shocked boys remained planted where they stood.
“Don’t talk to them like that.” Beverly replied, standing up, wiping her mouth before fixing her loose blouse that exposed a titty. “They just kids.”
“Woman, don’t tell me how to treat my son!” He pointed at her.
Her eyes widened and afraid, she lowered her head.
A part of Cray wanted to reach under his bed and shoot her with the gun he stole from Grimy Mike, who ditched it awhile back while running from the cops. Nobody knew he had it, not even his friends. But the other part of Cray, the angrier part, felt that if his mother wanted to allow a whore into her home to mess around with her husband, then he could care less.
Now fully dressed, David and Beverly walked toward the doorway.
“You go ahead,” he said to Beverly. “Let me talk to my boy.”
Beverly walked off, smiling slightly at Markise and Jason who were having dirty thoughts of her in their minds.
When she was out of sight David placed his hand on his son’s head and said, “Some day you’ll understand this. And when you do, you’ll become a man. I’ll catch you boys later for Cray’s birthday.” With that he left them in the hallway.
It was quiet when they walked into his room, and they situated on the old blue quilt style rug on the floor. His eyes cold and filled with pain. Although he was focused in his friend’s direction, his mind was elsewhere. He had so much going on in his young mind. So many questions with no one he trusted to answer him.
“You a’ight, man?” Markise asked, waiting for his response.
“Yeah…just thinkin’ that’s all.”
What Cray didn’t say or know was that everything he was experiencing was turning him into a menace. And the world would soon find out how.
Nyzon Peat
Washington, D.C., 1988
Popcorn Love
Twelve-year-old Nyzon was in the mirror singing, “Don’t Be Cruel” by Bobby Brown, on WPGC 95.5, as he got ready for school. He had just gotten a shape up with a part on the side and was checking it to make sure it was perfect…it was. He’d brushed his hair so much that you could get seasick just looking at his waves. A fresh haircut was all his mother could afford to keep him in style. So Nyzon took full advantage.
After he was dressed, he ironed one of the three pair of jeans he owned. The crease was heavy in the middle of the pants. He didn’t have much but what he did have he kept neat. After he got dressed he kissed his two fingers and pressed them against the boxing poster of Muhammad Ali. Nyzon was a natural when it came to boxing and looked up to him greatly.
Believing he was almost too fine for words, he remembered he couldn’t leave without placing a gold chain he found a few months ago on. Nyzon felt it made him look smoother. Living in George Washington Carver apartments off of Benning Road in Southeast D.C., some fucked-up ass projects, made him appreciate the little he had.
Walking toward the kitchen, he hesitated for a second. Mustering up enough energy, he finally walked inside. Nyzon sat down at the kitchen table preparing to spend another uncomfortable moment with her.
“You hungry, baby?” Debra asked her son as she sat a plate full of pancakes on the table in front of him. Nyzon tucked his chain in his shirt so that it wouldn’t dip into the extra syrup he was getting ready to douse his food with.
“Jive like,” he said, a forkful of pancakes already in his mouth.
“Are we going to watch a movie tonight on Cablevision?” she asked with hopeful eyes as she adjusted her red, pink and orange flower housecoat before taking a seat in the chair across from him.
“I was gonna play Metal Gear on Nintendo with my friends.” Nyzon never looked at his mother. All he could think about was how long it would take him to down his food and get out the door. Everything he enjoyed about life existed outside the confines of his home. And with them having no living relatives, outside of his friends, he felt alone.
Debra Peate was an average looking woman. She was mixed with black and white while Nyzon on the other hand had light brown skin with sexy, slanted eyes. Every time he looked in the mirror and than at her, he couldn’t find one similarity. Often times, he wondered if she was really his mother. And every time he’d ask, she’d swear that she lied on the table for hours giving birth to him, and that his father abandoned them both when he was just six months old.
“Okay…maybe I’ll bake you guys some cookies then,” she said as she came behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. “While you play the game. Would you like that?”
He shook his upper body causing her to remove her hands. Still chewing, he rose not facing her at first. Guilt rested on him and he slowly turned around and planted a kiss on her face.
“The cookies will be tight, Ma.” He smiled. She smiled back. “My friends love your food. I’ll see you when I get home.” He grabbed his red Trapper Keeper off the box next to the door. It had been there ever since they moved in five months ago because Debra never unpacked. Nyzon and his mother moved twice a year so he never felt settled in. With his notebook in hand he barreled out the front door.
At School
Once at school Nyzon met up with his crew. He had two friends he rolled with no matter where he was going. They were Royala and Lazarick Quick, fraternal twins. Royala was a cute girl who dressed like a boy, and everything in her soul told her she was. People were so used to seeing her dressed boyishly, that they playfully referred to Royala as Lazarick’s identical twin brother.
Nyzon was closer to Royala than he was to Lazarick because she was the only one who could spar with him and keep up in the boxing ring. She was almost as good as he was. The only thing about Royala that he couldn’t handle sometimes was her temper. It was as if she had something to prove to the world. She’d been put out of school at least ten times since he first met her a year ago. As bad as she was, she only put it to people who fucked with her family or friends, so Nyzon could tolerate her fighter spirit.
Lazarick on the other hand looked like a young Al B. Sure with hazel brown eyes like his sister’s. But Lazarick had a mouth and a tendency to run it. Lazarick hated on him a lot and for a while Nyzon thought he wanted to be him. But because he fucked with Royala, he dealt with him too.
“So you still messin’ with that girl with the Jheri Curl?” Nyzon asked Lazarick as they walked to his locker.
“Naw…I already got that.” He smiled, rubbing his hairless goatee. “She be on my dick hard now.”
“Stop lyin’!” Royala frowned at her twin. “That girl stopped messin’ with you to fuck with Jordan. So why you frontin’?”
“Hold up, she left you for pissy, no-neck Jordan?” Nyzon asked, all prepared to clown him if it was true.
“Man, shut up!” Lazarick said, unconsciously checking Nyzon’s fresh haircut with the part down the middle. “I see you got that bush taken down.”
“Yeah…you rides with this joint don’t you?” he said, smoothing his hair with his hand. “Everybody can’t be as fine as me.”
“You always thinkin’ somebody bitin’ your style. I got my own flava!” Lazarick brushed his shirt with his hands.
“Damn! Who’s the new girl?” Lazarick interrupted, looking in her direction, away from them. All jokes ceased. And she had their undivided attention.
Her thick, phat ass filled her Guess jeans out fully, as she switched in their direction. To be twelve she had a body like a woman but a face like a baby. “Cause I’ma hit that if it’s the last thing I do.”
She walked past them and smiled.
“That looks like my flava,” Royala added.
“Ain’t nobody playin’ the licky, licky parade wit your ass!” Lazarick joked.
“Yeah well both of ya’ll don’t waste your time. Cause I’m bout to find out! She look like my speed. So let me show ya’ll how it’s done.” Nyzon said, running behind her. “I’ll get up with yall later.” He always had to be the first to put in dibs on a new girl.
He’d almost caught up with her until she suddenly turned around and stopped dead in her tracks. Instantly he collided head first into the pretty caramel-colored girl with a sandy-colored mushroom haircut.
“Ouch!” she yelled.
“Shit!” he responded.
They rubbed their heads, trying to wipe away the pain. When he looked down he noticed something on the floor. He’d knocked a piece of paper out of her hands.
“Sorry,” he said, knowing it was his fault.
He was about to pick up her paper, but caught a look at her face. He couldn’t move. She was beautiful…almost as pretty as Angel, his babysitter, the one girl he had a crush on forever.
“So you gonna stare at me or pick my paper up?” her breath smelled like the banana Now and Later candy.
He picked the paper off the floor and handed it to her.
“Thanks…now can you tell me where the office is? It’s my first day.” She looked around as if she hoped to find it herself.
