Thugs Cry

by Ca$H

As she left out of the boutique her cell chirped, but both hands were full so she let the call go to voice mail until she got to the food court and sat down.

  She checked the voice mail, heard CJ talking shit, then called him back.

  “Sup?”

  “Hey, boo.”

  “Fuck you ain’t answer your phone?”

  “Because my arms were loaded with bags.”

  “Don’t let me find out!”

  “The only thing you’re going to find out is that you got me sprung.”

  “You done shopping?”

  “I’m out of money,” she sang.

  “Don’t trip it, ma. I’ma bless you real well in a coupla weeks. You know I love to see you looking like a diva.”

  “I am a diva, thank you.”

  “Fa sho, yo. Anyway, how did you get to the mall? You need me to come swoop you up?”

  “Nope, I borrowed my mother’s car.”

  “Aight.”

  “Where you at?” asked Tamika.

  “Me and Rah kickin’ it. He came home late last night.”

  “Oh. Well…did you tell him?”

  “Tell him what?”

  “Duh. About us.”

  “Yeah, it’s all gravy. You wanna come hang out with us?” offered CJ.

  “I don’t think so. And y’all niggaz better not be discussing me, comparing no damn notes. I’m serious, CJ. Don’t make me catch a case,” said Tamika as she turned her nose up at some fool that had just walked by tryna holla with a “psst!”

  “Hold on, CJ” she said ’cause ol’ boy had the nerve to stop and “psst!” her again. “Excuse me, but I’m tryna talk to my man, you’re being very rude.”

  “Fuck your man, shorty. He can’t do what I’ll do.” He stuck out his tongue and made it move like an S.

  “Eww!” Tamika shrieked and the fool pushed on. “Okay, baby, I’m back.”

  “Yo, who da fuck was that?”

  “Nobody, just some clown ass nigga.”

  “Yo, Mika, keep talking to that nigga ’til I get there. I’ma smash that pussy!” CJ spazzed.

  “He’s already gone,” said Tamika laughing.

  “Nigga better be out,” said CJ, calming down. “Anyway, I’ma meet you at the club tonight. Be looking good for me. Okay, ma?”

  “I do that 24/7, 365, don’t I?”

  “Fa sho.”

  “CJ, if you get to the club before I do, don’t let me walk in and catch no trick all up in your face, or I swear, I’m going to jail tonight.”

  “Come on, ma. Go ’head with all that.”

  “Okay, you and Rah bet not get into any trouble. Muah!”

  CJ, who was riding shotgun in Rah’s Tahoe, looked over at his man. Rah had a smirk on his face as he hit Central Avenue headed to Micky D’s.

  “What, yo?” asked CJ, firing up a blunt of some kush that Rah had brought back home with him for CJ to sample.

  “Yo, you and Tamika made for each other. Word, son.” He touched fist with his brotha from anotha.

  “Yeah fam, baby girl is my heartbeat. Like I said earlier, because of what y’all had, if it was just a fuck thing I never would’ve got at her. But yo, shorty all up in here.” CJ tapped his chest with his fist.

  “I wish y’all well, fam. That’s on everything.”

  “Yo, you gotta send me like ten pounds of this shit! This that fih, sho nuff!” Exclaimed CJ looking at the blunt. “Ay yo, I still can’t believe how you putting it down in ATL. You come back pushin’ this fly joint, pockets heavy. Dayum, Georgia must be a Peach fa real.”

  “It’s poppin’, but a hustla can make it do what it do, wherever.”

  “That’s what’s up,” said CJ as they pulled into Mickey D’s drive-thru and ordered up a load of shit.

  While they waited for their huge order to be filled, Rah told CJ about the night he had spazzed on dude for calling him ‘shawdy’. Rah was cracking up.

  Leaning against the door and grabbing his nuts, he said, “Hol’ up! You jacked him for his chain?”

  “Yep, and threw that shit in a dumpster.”

  “You wild as fuck, yo! But did the right thing to toss that joint. Yo, what part of Brooklyn that nigga Don from?”

  “Marcy.”

  “Word?”

  “Yep, and son is official. I fucks with him hard. But I’m still doing my thing in school, gon’ probably major in journalism. Get that degree and come back and elevate the hood,” said Rah as their food was being passed to him through the window.

  “Nigga, The Bricks gon’ be The Bricks long after our black asses are gone. Ain’t no elevating shit,” said CJ dipping two McNuggets into some hot mustard sauce as Rah drove off, biting into a chicken sandwich.

  “Yeah, you probably right,” Rah conceded.

  “You know I’m right. Niggaz ain’t tryna hear that cornball shit, we after the money, hos, and shine. Nah mean?”

  Rah turned on the radio and some station was playing an old school jam by Minnie Riperton. CJ didn’t even know who Minnie was, but Rah did because Big Ma had her old albums.

  The song on the radio was one of Rah’s favorites because Kayundra had sang it in a talent show in the ninth grade and won First Prize, dedicating the song to him before she had brought the gymnasium down. Teachers said afterwards that only a few singers in the world could hit Minnie Riperton’s notes, and Kayundra was one of them.

  “Yo, nigga, don’t fuck wit’ dat,” Rah slapped CJ’s hand away from the dial when he tried to change stations. Minnie was taking Rah down memory lane.

  When the song went off Rah was quiet.

  CJ turned on the CD player and Young Jeezy was rapping about coming up from the bottom to the top. Rah was feelin’ Jeezy, but hearing Minnie Riperton’s song had him stuck.

  “Man, what da fuck happened to Kayundra?” he asked CJ, then replayed last night’s scare for him.

  “Baby girl on that glass dick, yo. Ain’t no help for her; she’s gone.”

  “In less than a year?”

  “Shit, shorty was clucking on the low before you left.”

  “Word?”

  “Like Pookie in New Jack City,” CJ cracked.

  “That shit ain’t funny, yo. Baby girl used to be my boo. Dayum, I hate to see her fucked up like that,” sighed Rah.

  “Look!” CJ pointed out the window towards the sky, and Rah tried to look, thinking a helicopter might be hovering.

  “Up in the sky! It’s a bird…it’s a plane! No! Coming to a crackhead’s rescue…it’s supanigga!” CJ screamed.

  Rah spit food all over the windshield. They were both laughing so hard, Rah had to pull over before he fucked around and wrecked. CJ had tears running down his face.

  “You stupid, yo,” said Rah after he stopped laughing.

  “On the real though, I know you son, you used to love shorty. Watch, you gonna try to save her.”

  Tamika was cussin’ Star ass out for calling at the last minute with some shit that her car wouldn’t start. She told Star that she needed to upgrade.

  “Bitch, what kind of car you got?” asked Star.

  “Uh…” Tamika stuttered.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “Dayum, Mama is gone for the night with her car, and I am looking too damn cute to miss the club tonight. Call one of your tricks to give us a ride,” suggested Tamika.

  “Them niggaz ain’t acting right,” sighed Star.

  “Ho, how you got a name like ‘Star’and can’t even get us a ride to the club? If you’re busted up ass is a star I’m the Queen of the Nile,” cracked Tamika laughing at her own joke.

  “Whateva, bitch. Why can’t you call CJ?”

  “Because he hates it when I call him with last minute shit.”

  “So?”

  “So, I’m not calling him.”

  “A’ight, we can catch a cab”

  “A cab? Gurrrl, I am not catching no cab to no damn club! That’s tacky.”

  “Call it whatever you like. See ya, b
itch.”

  Tamika quickly checked her mental Rolodex for a nigga she could play for a ride. “Malcolm,” she said out loud and dialed his number.

  Malcolm was an older square dude who Star used to fuck with. Star had stopped kicking it with him because his dick game was weak. She didn’t care what else a nigga brought to the table, if his dick game was wack, she bounced. It was all about the orgasms with her.

  After Star kicked Malcolm to the curb he had started checking for Tamika. What made him think that she would want Star’s sloppy seconds; Tamika had yet to figure out. But she hollered at Malcolm just enough to get a few dollars out of him once in a while, and a favor or two. Of course, she wasn’t letting him hit it. CJ would snap her neck! Hell, she would snap her own fuckin’ neck.

  “You only call when you need a favor,” complained Malcolm, but Tamika knew how to handle his weak ass.

  “Neva mind.” She hung up on him and then started counting to herself. “One…two…three…” Her phone chirped. She answered on the second ring.

  “Gimme a sec’ to throw something on, then I’ll come through,” Malcolm said.

  “Okay, and could you give me a little money to party with?”

  “I got you.”

  “Thank you, boo.”

  “It’s all good. I’ma hang out at the club with you and Star for a minute. I ain’t doing shit else.”

  “That’s cool, but CJ is rolling through later,” she warned him so he wouldn’t be all up her ass at the club. Malcolm feared CJ more than he feared the wrath of God.

  When they finally pulled up, Tamika scanned the parking lot for CJ’s whip just in case he had beaten her to the club. She relaxed when she didn’t see his Q45 in the lot.

  She entered the club ahead of Malcolm so that word wouldn’t get back to CJ that she had fell up in there with a nigga. Some jealous bitch would love to pour salt on her.

  Star was already there, seated in a booth with a jacked up ass nigga whose breath smelled like booty. She was covering her nose with her hand, like hint hint, as dude tried to lay down his mack, but playa was determined. Star felt like she had been rescued from a sewer when she saw Tamika walk up with Malcolm a few steps behind.

  “Hey, chick.” Star stood up and hugged Tamika.

  “Hey, Miss Thang,” said Tamika.

  “Gurl, this niggaz breath is terminal,” Star whispered to the side of her face.

  Tamika had to swallow fast to keep from busting out in laughter. “Don’t you look cute,” she lied. Star had on a halter dress that was so last year.

  “You do, too.”

  Dude felt neglected so he bounced.

  “Thank God!” exhaled Star.

  “I thought he was your next baby’s daddy,” joked Tamika, as she slid into the booth.

  “Puhleeze! That nigga clothes fit tighter than mine.” They laughed and gave each other a high five.

  “Hey, Malcolm,” said Star, finally acknowledging him.

  “What’s good, Star?”

  “You know, same ol’ same ol’.”

  “Malcolm would you go get us something to drink?” asked Tamika, batting her hazels at him.

  “What would you like?”

  “A strawberry daiquiri.”

  “Make that two, boo,” Star chimed back in.

  Malcolm was straight gravy.

  “Have you seen CJ and Rah?” Tamika asked looking around the crowded club. Damn, she could not see shit. Too many niggaz up in here!

  “Nope, you know your man ain’t coming without making a grand entrance.”

  “Don’t hate, ho.”

  “Puhleeze, bitch, ain’t nobody hatin’ on your little baller.”

  Hmmpf! Nobody but your trick ass. Ho, I know you want to do CJ, but you got too many babies’ daddies for my man to fuck with you, and you’re too loose with the kitty cat. Plus, I’ll catch a case.

  “Rah is back?” asked Star.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How he lookin? Still mouth watering?”

  “I don’t know how he’s looking. I haven’t seen him yet. CJ was rollin’ with him when I talked to him earlier. I’m guessing Rah will come to the club with CJ.” Anyway, he’s only been gone eight or nine months. He probably looks the same.”

  “Delicious then,” said Star.

  “Bitch, you just a ho.”

  “Pot calling the kettle black. Hello!”

  “Whateva, trick”

  “CJ done told Rah the deal?” whispered Star.

  “Yeah, and stop whispering. You must be on some X?”

  “Hell no, but I’ma be on some D tonight. Got to search the crowd for the nigga with the biggest dick print. But dayum, all these niggaz saggin’!”

  “Hey, cuz,” waved Tamika’s cousin Nee Nee walking by in a bangin’ Versace pant suit.

  “Hey!” Tamika waved back. “I can’t stand that jump off,” she muttered to Star.

  “Oooh, bitch, ya man and his boy just walked in the door,” said Star. She stood up and started waving like she was flagging down a cab. “CJ! Rah! Over here!”

  “Bitch, will you sit your bama ass down,” Tamika laughed, as she watched her boo and her ex get intercepted by two thirsty looking hos.

  “I’m going to jail,” she said, giving CJ two minutes before she was going to show her ass. CJ beat the clock by a few seconds

  Rah and CJ walked up.

  “Sup, ma? How long y’all been here?” asked CJ. He bent down and tongued Tamika.

  “Mmmm! Not long.”

  “What it do, Star? Who babysittin’ those bad ass kids of yours? Let me find out you put them to bed then dipped off to the club.”

  “Hey CJ,” she spoke back. She didn’t find his joke funny, but she didn’t try to clown him back. CJ could flip like a light switch. “What’s good, Raheem? How do you like college in ATL?” she asked in a much sweeter tone then the one she spoke to CJ.

  Tamika rolled her eyes.

  “I’m lovin’ it, yo. How you, ma?” Rah replied.

  “I’m good, need a thug in my life.”

  Not this one, Rah thought.

  “I hear dat,” he said. “Tamika, how you?”

  Tamika responded by lifting her hand an inch off the table and wiggling her fingers as a gesture of “hello.”

  Then she looked up and saw Malcolm returning with their drinks. She kicked Star’s foot.

  “I’ll be right back,” Star said suddenly, and slid out of the booth.

  “Ain’t that one of ya girl’s tricks?” CJ nodded in the direction of Malcolm.

  “Yep, who ain’t,” replied Tamika wearing a poker face.

  CJ sat down and put his arm around Tamika, while Rah slid in on the other side. Tamika felt a little funny having her nigga on one side and her ex on the other. But this was her chance to really show CJ that it was all about him. She turned his chin toward her and licked his face, real seductively. Then she tongued him down.

  Rah wasn’t stressing. He just kicked back like a real playa and bopped his head to the wild ass Lil Jon joint that was beatin’ hard throughout the club. That crunk shit had reached The Bricks.

  Honeys were doing their thing on the dance floor. All was needed were a coupla poles and Rah would’ve thought he was at a strip club. Star returned with the daiquiris for her and Tamika, having sent Malcolm home. Before long, Star was on the dance floor, backing that thang up and dropping it low.

  CJ saw a few dudes that he needed to holla at, so he told Tamika he would be back in a few.

  “How long?” she pouted.

  “What, I’m on a time clock?”

  “Just hurry back, CJ, and don’t be all up in no bitch’s face ’cause that is not business. I know how y’all niggaz do.”

  “Fuck you talking ’bout, yo?”

  “I’m just warning you, boo. My mama ain’t raise no fool. You’re fine, a money getter, and bitches can see that you don’t mind splurging on ya girl. A slick bitch will try to slide you her digits or have her boy to pass them o
n to you. If I slip, you’ll end up fuckin’ her. Y’all niggaz dicks don’t have a conscience.”

  “Y’all niggaz?”

  “Well, yours. Just hurry back, okay?”

  “Whateva.” He stood up after giving her a quick kiss. “Ain’t no chick up in here I want but you. Stand up and let me see it twerp.”

  She stood up and modeled the outfit for him.

  “You bangin’, ma.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she purred.

  CJ tongued her down again.

  “I love you,” she told him.

  “I love you too,” he said. Then to Rah, “Yo, fam, I’m finna go holla at my dude, keep an eye on wifey for me.”

  “I got you,” said Rah, who up until he heard CJ call his name had not been paying any attention to anyone but the honeys on the dance floor.

  When CJ bounced, Tamika decided that now was a good time for her to visit the ladies room. She did not want to be left alone with Rah. Guilt was eating her ass up.

  “Excuse me,” she stood up to leave. Rah put his hand on her arm.

  “Hol’ up. I wanna holla at you,” he said politely.

  “About what?”

  “Me and CJ already talked. Besides, Big Ma and LaKeesha had already—”

  “Let me interrupt you, Rah. Long story short: it is what it is,” said Tamika and walked off.

  Rah was left wondering, Dayum! How baby girl gon’ catch a ’tude with me? Like I did her dirty? If I smoked, I’d have to puff one to the sky on dat.

  He watched Tamika saunter off, her dress so short and tight it rode up her ass as she walked, and she had to hold it down. If you walk around with your butt hangin out, it’s only a matter of time before some boy is gonna grab it, he recalled Big Ma warning LaKeesha when she wore skimpy outfits.

  “Tamika is wearing the fuck outta that dress though,” Rah admitted to himself. “But, yo, what’s with the ’tude? Straight up, I ain’t mad. Like Jigga said, ‘jealousy is a weak emotion’.”

  Rah tossed Tamika out of mind and was hollering at a cutie who had just pulled up at the booth.

  “Hey, Raheem. How have you been?” she smiled at him.

  “Yo, who you?”

  “Tasha Montgomery.”

  “From…”

  “From Mrs. Darwin’s eighth grade English class,” she finished for him. Rah couldn’t believe his eyes. The last time he had seen Tasha Montgomery she wore braces on her teeth, thick eyeglasses, and was a tomboy with no booty. Now baby was thick in all the right places and was pleasing to the eye.