Bronxwood

by Coe Booth

  “I told him that from now on, he need to know that your moms got a order of protection out on her. From me. If he see her, he need to back away. And if he don’t, he gonna hafta deal with me.”

  I smile. “Good.” I shoulda did that myself.

  Then Regg tell me again ’bout not saying nothing to my pops ’bout what went down with my moms and Dante.

  “I ain’t,” I say a couple times before he actually believe me. “I’ma let them handle they business. I got my own problems anyway. I don’t need no more.”

  “How you and your pops doing? Y’all looked like y’all was okay playing together tonight.”

  I shrug. “I was just looking to get paid, that’s it.”

  “But y’all talking, right?”

  “Nah. I ain’t got nothing to say to him.” Then I tell Regg ’bout what my pops did to me at the storage place yesterday. “The way he did that shit, it came outta nowhere. He, like, crazy or something, I swear.”

  “Try and make it work with him, Ty. Y’all used to be real tight. A lot of kids your age ain’t got that with they old man.”

  The way Regg talking, I know he thinking ’bout his own life. When we was driving down south he told me he ain’t never knew his father. When he was my age he had to leave his moms house ’cause he ain’t get along with her boyfriend and he ain’t had nowhere to go for a long time. Regg was living out on the streets, not like what I’m doing, staying with Cal and them. Regg had it real bad.

  As we get close to Bronxwood, I’m still thinking ’bout everything Regg told me. “Regg,” I say, “was the whole reason you brung me down south with you ’cause you wanted to talk to me ’bout my pops?”

  “Not the whole reason,” he go. “I wanted to get you outta the Bronx for a while. And yeah, I wanted to talk to you too. Make sure you was ready for your pops to get out. I knew you since you was a little kid, Ty, and I don’t want you going through the kinda shit I had to go through.”

  “You think I need my pops or something?”

  “It ain’t about what you need. I’m just looking out for you.”

  For some reason what Regg saying kinda get me a little mad, at him and my pops. Like the two of them is on the same side or something, trying to get me to do something I don’t wanna do.

  “You can let me out here,” I tell him before he can turn into Bronxwood. “I need to get something from the store.” And I need to stop talking to him.

  He pull over, and as I’m opening the door to get out, he say, “Just so you know, I’m going outta town for a while.”

  “A’ight.” I get out the truck and close the door.

  “Don’t get in no trouble,” he say out the window.

  “You too.”

  He laugh. “They ain’t caught up to me yet, right?”

  Even though I don’t wanna talk to him no more right now, I can’t help but ask him again, “What you do, anyway?”

  “Mind my business,” he say.

  “When you gonna trust me?”

  “I trust you, Ty. But I ain’t trying to get you involved in my shit.”

  Now that just make me madder at him. I’m sixteen and he treating me like a fuckin’ child that can’t handle nothing. “Thanks for dropping me off,” I say. “Holla at me when you back.”

  “Count on it,” he say, and drive off. Another dude that can’t stay in one place too long.

  I go in the bodega and buy a Pepsi and some chips and cookies. Then, on my way to my building, the second I turn the corner, I almost run right into Novisha and her moms. They look like they on they way to church, and I’m like, damn, it’s Sunday morning. People been to sleep and woke up and got dressed, and me, I’m now getting home.

  I don’t wanna stare at Novisha, but she look real fuckin’ pretty, wearing a light blue dress and heels. She don’t never dress sexy. That’s not the kinda girl she is. But no matter what she wear, she look good. She real short and little, and her body kick ass. And she got a cute face too. Back when we was together, I could never get tired of looking at that face. No lie, it used to make me feel real good that she was mines.

  But I ain’t with her no more, so I stop looking and instead just turn to Ms. Jenkins and tell her good morning.

  “Good morning to you too, Tyrell.” She used to always look happy when she seen me, but now that me and her daughter is broke up, she only half smile and it’s real fake. I don’t know if it’s ’cause me and Novisha ain’t together no more or if it’s ’cause I’m living with Cal and them and maybe she think I’m in they business now. She probably glad I ain’t Novisha boyfriend no more. “You’re up early on a Sunday morning.”

  The way she say it, I can’t tell if she actually believe that shit or if she really know I been out all night. So I just nod and go, “Yeah.” Then, so Ms. Jenkins don’t think I’m disrespecting her daughter, I say, “Hi, Novisha.”

  “Hi, Ty.” She open her mouth to say something else, then close it again.

  And for, like, five seconds, we don’t say nothing. We just standing there on the sidewalk, not moving and not talking ’til finally, Ms. Jenkins say, “Well, we better get going.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Okay.”

  They walk to the corner and stop, waiting for the light to change. Crazy thing is, I’m watching them. I don’t know why. Then, while I’m still standing there, Novisha turn her head back and look right at me, like she wanna say something. Her eyes is right on mines, and damn, that face. I’m waiting for her to say something, but she don’t. She just turn back ’round.

  ELEVEN

  By the time I get upstairs, I’m all ’bout sleep. Between being up all night and the big fuckin’ Beast, damn, I can’t hardly stand up. But, course, shit don’t work out the way I want it to. Even before the elevator open on my floor, I can hear the baby crying. Damn. I forgot. Cal told me he was gonna have his son today.

  When I walk in the apartment, Cal standing in the living room holding CJ, who crying the brains outta his head. He only, like, seven months, but still, why he gotta scream like that? “What you doing, killing the boy?” I ask Cal, locking the door behind me, which take a minute ’cause they got three fuckin’ locks on they door.

  Cal look like he through. Already. He still in the raggedy sweatpants he sleep in and he look half awake, holding his son like he a football. “I don’t know what he want,” Cal say. “He wildin’ out for nothing.”

  Cal don’t get to watch CJ all that much, not by hisself. Tina don’t hardly be letting Cal take the kid outta her sight, and definitely not bring him over here ’less she here too. Most of the time he only get to see him when they at her moms house. Tina say it’s ’cause she don’t want CJ in Bronxwood, ’round where he do business. “Why she let you have him today anyway?”

  “Told you. Her cousin getting married.”

  “Funny that it ain’t all that dangerous over here now, when she need something from you.”

  He shake his head. “You should know by now, females is like that.”

  “You mean, full of shit, right?”

  Me and him both laugh ’cause it’s true. If I ever started understanding girls, I would write a book or something. Make some real money.

  “You shoulda been here,” Cal say. “The second Tina set foot in this apartment, she was arguing with me and complaining. Telling me this place is too nasty for her kid, like he ain’t my kid too, and telling me I don’t know how to take care of him right. She was all in my face. I swear that girl gonna turn out just like her mother and I ain’t gonna be around when she turn.” He shake his head, looking mad frustrated. “I’m so fuckin’ tired of arguing with that girl.” He don’t say nothing for a while, just look down at the floor, and I don’t know what to say neither ’cause he right ’bout Tina. She is kinda off the hook most of the time. After a couple seconds he look at me and go, “Where was you anyway?”

  I tell Cal all ’bout the party and how Dante showed up and wouldn’t leave for shit. And how he was at the diner and ke
pt looking at my moms. All that. Cal shake his head ’cause he know all ’bout what happened and how fucked up it was. He know there really ain’t nothing I can do ’bout it, that I did what I could already.

  “Damn, I’m tired,” I say, but the second it come out my mouth, it sound stupid ’cause when I work all I gotta do is spin some records for five, six hours. But for Cal, when he work he gotta bust his ass all fuckin’ night and put his freedom on the line at the same time.

  “Your pops want you to move back in with them?” Cal change CJ from one arm to the other, but it don’t work to shut the baby up none.

  “Nah, not yet. They moving to they new apartment tomorrow, and it look like him and my moms is working on something. I don’t know.”

  “He ain’t tell you what they up to?”

  “Nah. Probably some kinda new business, something to make fast money. Something illegal, knowing him.”

  “That’s who he is,” Cal say.

  “Yeah, I know.” Which is why I ain’t gonna move back in with them even when my pops try and make me come back. Why I’ma go through all that trouble, moving my shit over there when he only gonna get locked up again a couple months later, if that? When we only gonna end up losing that apartment too?

  I go into the kitchen and put my Pepsi in the refrigerator. The sink is full of dishes, and all I know is somebody need to start bustin’ some suds up in here. And it ain’t gonna be me.

  The baby keep crying and Cal try walking ’round with him. He come in the kitchen, then go back in the living room and walk ’round in a circle, but nothing work. I remember when Troy was that little. I was eight when he was born, and sometimes my moms couldn’t get him to shut up, no matter what she did, and she couldn’t handle that shit for nothing. My pops used to tell her to just put him down and let him cry hisself to sleep, but when she did that, I used to sneak over to his crib and pick him up ’cause I couldn’t take him crying neither. It ain’t seem right to just leave him alone like that.

  I go into the living room. CJ look real tired, but he crying and fighting hisself to stay awake. “Look at him,” I say. “He must not wanna miss nothing. He wanna be in it.”

  “I don’t know why babies do that.”

  “Give me him,” I tell Cal even though I’m tired and not in the mood for none of this. “Go take a shower or something. I mean, I ain’t sayin’ you kickin’ or nothin’, but damn, you definitely got a hum jumpin’ off you.”

  Cal laugh. “Oh, it’s like that?” But it don’t take him a second to hand off the baby to me, like he been ready to make that pass for a while. “I ain’t gonna take that long,” he say, and he gone down the hall, and I’m standing there with a screaming baby and no idea what the fuck to do with him.

  I know babies be liking music, so I walk ’round the living room with CJ and start rapping to him, anything I could think of that got the word “baby” in it. I’m rapping shit from back in the day like,

  “Baby, don’t cry, I hope you got your head up

  Even when the road is hard, never give up.”

  I just do that part over and over ’cause the rest of that rap is ’bout some fucked-up shit, and no baby need to hear that, no matter how young he is. Tupac lyrics is deep.

  I ain’t lying when I say rapping to a baby work. I mean, he ain’t relaxing really. He still moving all ’round and looking like something bothering him, but he ain’t crying no more. Maybe he gonna grow up and be a rapper or something, make back some of the money Cal spending on him. Keep his father in style with cars and clothes and shit.

  And his father friend Ty too.

  Yeah.

  ’Bout half hour later, Cal still getting dressed. He got music playing in his room and he must be taking his time or something ’cause how long it take him to put some clothes on? And right then, outta nowhere, Andre show up. He don’t ring no bell or nothing. He just unlock all the locks on the door and walk in like he still live here. True, his name is still on the lease, but he act like he got the right to just roll up in here anytime he want, just ’cause he the boss of the business and the man of the family.

  The thing ’bout Andre is he don’t never show up nowhere by hisself no more. After he got shot he bought this stupid pit bull he call Bin Laden. Crazy dog, you ask me, that never stop barking and act like he don’t know nobody, no matter how many times he seen you.

  Andre close the door fast and lock all three of the locks like somebody chasing him. Dude mad paranoid and shit, thinking the drug dealers that shot him are still out to get him. Like anybody even care ’bout his ass or where he at. All he do is run a small-time weed business. It ain’t no Scarface up in here.

  “Cal, where you at?” Andre go, talking all loud over the barking, and acting like he don’t even see me standing there. I don’t get no “Hey, how you doin’, Ty?” or nothing.

  Cal come down the hall. He wearing jeans and nothing else, and now his face look all confused and his mouth is open all wide.

  Before he can say anything, Andre say, “Me and you gotta talk.” He grab hold of Bin Laden collar and walk past Cal down the hallway, fast, even with that fucked-up limp he got going on now. Cal give me a look like, what the fuck? Then he turn ’round and follow his brother. A second later, his bedroom door close and I’m still out there in the living room with the baby. Stuck.

  Cal and Andre don’t come out the room for ’bout a half hour, and the whole time I can’t hear a thing they saying in there ’cause that dumb dog is losing what’s left of his stupid mind. Even through all that noise, I do get the baby to go to sleep in his stroller and I lay on the couch trying to relax my own self, but I sit up when I hear Andre coming down the hall. I ain’t sure why, but I don’t want him seeing me sleep.

  Bin Laden still barking and shit when Andre get to the living room. “How long he gonna be here?” he ask Cal, and for a second I think he talking ’bout me. ’Til he go, “’Cause you gotta work tonight.”

  “I know,” Cal say, breathing kinda funny. “Tina coming to get him by four thirty.”

  Andre nod. Then he look at me. “What’s going on, Ty?”

  “Chillin’,” I say.

  “Your pops out, right?”

  “Yeah. Friday.”

  “You still gonna stay here?”

  “Yeah,” I say. I ain’t think he was just gonna come out and ask me like that. I ain’t mind when Cal asked me, but this is different. To be honest, I don’t even know why I said yeah when I don’t really know what I’m doing. But something ’bout the way he asked made me wanna have a answer.

  “Look, Ty,” he say. “We need more guys out there working for us, you know, guys we can trust. I don’t mind you living here, but you not really helping us out like this. We gotta work, all of us. This is business.”

  “I know, Andre, but I been paying a third of the rent and buying food and shit. I know that ain’t a lot, but—”

  “That ain’t shit,” he say. “We need you bringing in money.”

  “Yeah, I know, but—”

  “You need to make some decisions.”

  “I know,” I say again.

  Andre never used to be like this, all hard. He used to be cool, back when he lived here and they was just selling weed here in Bronxwood. Now he all serious and got his brothers scared of him. I don’t get it. Just ’cause he running two projects, he think he gotta be a asshole now.

  Andre just stand there looking at me for a couple more seconds, hard. Even Bin Laden staring at me now. Then Andre unlock the door, stick his head out, and check the hall real crazy and suspicious, then leave. Damn. That dude losing it.

  I wait ’til I hear the elevator doors open and close before I ask Cal what up.

  “He say I ain’t making enough. Shit is hard now. The economy is fucked up.”

  “What else he want you to do?”

  Cal shake his head. “Work harder. That’s all he said.”

  Cal already working hard, and Andre act like he don’t see that. Nothing good e
nough for him. And he think I’ma wanna work for somebody like that? Yeah, right. “Don’t worry ’bout it,” I tell Cal. “You know how Andre act when he on his period.”

  Cal smile. “It’s that time of the month again?”

  Me and him laugh loud, and I gotta point to the baby so we don’t wake him up. Last thing we need.

  After a while Cal go get his shirt and finish getting dressed in the living room, and I finally get to my room. I put on some music in case the baby start crying again, so he don’t wake me up, and change into some sweatpants to sleep in. Not that it’s gonna be easy sleeping after dealing with Andre. I would be lying if I said he ain’t got me thinking. I do got some decisions to make. Not only ’bout where I’ma live, but ’bout a lot of things.

  I mean, it was alright being here when my pops was locked up, but now I don’t know. If Andre think he gonna get me to start selling for him just ’cause I’m here, that ain’t gonna happen. I don’t need to. All this time I been taking care of myself by just throwing parties and charging kids to get in. I wasn’t living large or nothing, but I paid my bills and my moms bills and still kept myself looking good.

  And I see what selling is doing to Cal. Yeah, he walking ’round with a lot more money than me, but it ain’t worth it, putting up with Andre and looking out for the police and all the other shit that go with it.

  Me, I ain’t looking for no more stress in my life. I already got enough to deal with.

  TWELVE

  It’s after five o’clock when I wake up and I only got one thing on my mind — the rest of them Cocoa Puffs. I get up out the bed, cut the music off, and go out into the hallway. When I pass by Cal room, the door is closed and I can hear the bed squeaking and all kinda moaning and shit. Tina musta came to get CJ early, and from what they doing in there, it sound like they not still fighting. Even the baby ain’t crying no more.

  I go to the kitchen, and all I see is Cocoa Puffs all over the table and floor. And damn, the box is still on the table and there ain’t even hardly none left in there. The whole kitchen is jacked. A glass is broke on the floor and soda is spilled all over the place. My Pepsi.