“Bitch, don’t even got no manners. You could at least say thanks,” Precious said.
“Oh yeah, my bad, thanks… Fa nuttin…!” Tess laughed from down the hall.
“I hope you have a fucking heart attack smoking that shit, bitch!” Precious said.
“I heard that. You another one… And I’ll surely try,” Tess laughed, locking the bathroom door.
Minutes later, a thick cloud of smoke enveloped the area around the bathroom door. Tess was in the bathroom blazing the crack rock in a pipe made from a soda can. She quickly replaces the burnt out rock with another piece. She sparked the lighter on high, and inhaled very deeply. A feeling of exhilaration washed over her body as the drug took effect immediately.
Tess’pupils became dilated, darting all over the small bathroom. Paranoia crept up on her and her heartbeat quickened. Suddenly the walls felt like they were closing in. A loud knock on the bathroom door startled her causing her to drop the makeshift crack pipe.
The sudden noise seemed to push Tess into a state of confusion and fear. She flushed the toilet and turned the shower on. Then she stood around staring at herself in a mirror, over the sink, checking to see if she looked high.
“Who is it?” she answered, cleaning ashes off an already dirty floor.
“It’s me, mom, Sheron,” the boy responded.
Sheron was the mature twelve-year-old son of Tess. Unlike most boys his age, Sheron was not concerned with videogames or T.V. He had more pressing needs like taking care of himself. He rarely indulged in the childhood games.
“Mom…?” Sheron said almost inaudibly.
Quietly Melquan, Precious and Mike Copeland got up from their seats to watch the exchange. Melquan was most touched by the boy’s timid behavior. Wearing a puzzled look, Melquan glanced first at Precious then Mike Copeland. He was completely appalled by what he was witnessing. Mike Copelan and Precious both had snide expressions on their faces. It was as if they were enjoying themselves.
Melquan looked back at the bagged up drugs that were on the table. A powerful overdose of shame shot through his veins. Melquan wanted to leave but stayed riveted watching this scene play out. Even though the youngster wasn’t in the same room, the thought of bagging up drugs with a kid around dogged Melquan’s conscience. He went off on a guilt trip.
“Yo, where shorty come from? I ain’t even know that someone else was here,” he said.
“Me either. But what’s da big deal? He’s just a lil’ fuckin kid,” Mike Copeland said, shrugging his shoulder.
“Man, I ain’t tryin’ to corrupt nobody who ain’t already corrupted, especially no lil’ kid. God don’t like ugly. Precious, go find sumthin to cover that shit up with real quick,” Melquan said, pointing at the table.
Sheron was still standing at the bathroom door waiting on his mother to respond. He leaned against the door, trying to hear her reply.
“Ma, ma,” Sheron whispered.
“Boy, if you don’t get the hell away from this door, and leave me the fuck alone, I’m gonna come out there and hurt you. Now leave me alone!”
Sheron turned dejectedly and walked away from the bathroom door. Moping around the apartment, Sheron stopped when he reached the kitchen. He stared in wide-eyed surprise at three unfamiliar faces. Mike Copeland and Precious gave the boy a look of indifference.
“Hey shorty, c’mere… What’s your name?” Melquan asked, attempting to stir a conversation.
The kid walked a few feet up the hall toward Melquan. Although he didn’t know Melquan, he still didn’t fear him.
“Sheron,” the boy responded.
“What’s good, Sheron? My name is Melquan. Yo, you hungry, Sheron? Cause I was just about to send my girl to the chicken spot to get some eats.”
“Oh no, I didn’t know I was about to go to no chicken spot. Melquan, I’m ya girl only when you want sumthin. I gotta hair appointment today and I just ain’t got no time to get no chicken.”
“Wow,” Melquan smiled, shaking his head. “I know you frontin’ but that’s cool. What comes around goes around.”
“I’m dead-ass, Melquan. I do too have a hair appointment.”
“Look, I ain’t tryin’ to hear all that rah-rah. You ain’t right, shorty ain’t got nothin’ to do with nothin’... And you here just shittin’ on him for no reason,” Melquan said staring down Precious.
“I ain’t shittin on shorty. I just gotta go get my hair did, wash and set. The Dominican’s got a special on Wednesday.”
“Oh you just realized that… Or is that is just an excuse, because of who his mother is, right?” Melquan asked Precious.
He turned to look at Mike Copeland. His lieutenant vigorously shook his head, rebuffing Melquan’s non-verbal request.
“Don’t, even look at me dog. I’m grown ass man. What I look like lettin’ you son me like that. You know what they say if you want sumthin done, do it yourself.”
“A’ight, a’ight, fuck both y’all! I’m a take shorty to the chicken spot my damn self. Y’all got the game fucked up doin’ shit like that. Both y’all ain’t gonna have no luck. Y’all can’t keep takin’ from the game and don’t give nothin’ back. Have a heart sometimes muthafuckas,” Melquan said, walking out with Sheron.
“Havin’ a heart will only get a nigga knocked. Precious what da fuck is up with your man?”
“I don’t know what he on. That nigga only calls me his girl when he wants some ass or wants me to do sump’n. Any other time, I’m just his down-low bitch,” Precious sarcastically said.
Mike Copeland and Precious stayed with the task at hand. When the process of cooking and packaging the crack was done, it was now time for the product to hit the streets.
Chapter Five
True 2 Da Game
Out on Laconia Avenue, blue and white police cars raced through the street with sirens blaring, rushing from the 47 th Precinct on 229th Street to God knows where. A block up the street, and what seemed like a world away, Melquan and Sheron sat in the Kennedy Fried Chicken spot eating the house special, chicken wings and French fries. They kicked it for a minute about everything from school to sports. Melquan soon realized that Sheron loved sports but hadn’t participated because of his mother.
“She’d be showing up to the games all drunk and high talking shit. So I quit.”
“Shorty, you gotta forgive her, cause no matter what she’s still ya mother,” Melquan said between bites of chicken. “She knows not what she does.”
They continued chatting and hit it off, laughing and playing. Melquan stole food off Sheron’s plate and Sheron did the same to Melquan. Both of them quickly became real familiar with each other.
“You still hungry, Sheron? You want sumthin else? Or maybe you wanna take sumthinupstairs with you for later on? Maybe another soda, ice cream, or whateva…?”
Melquan’s voice trailed off as he watched Sheron’s reaction. The kid seemed caught between shyness and neediness. There was a hesitation before Sheron gave an answer.
“Thanks, but I guess I’ll be alright. We can head back by my building. I got some homework to do.”
“But how can you do your homework if you hungry? You know you can’t even concentrate when you stomach’s makin’ funny noises, shorty.”
“I know, but really Melquan, I’m good. Thanks anyway.”
“You sure…? Never let your pride get in the way of asking for sumthinthat you need. Closed mouths don’t get fed. Shorty, think about it. You working, and you get hungry later, and you ain’t got nothing in the house to eat…Hmm, hmm?”
Melquan saw shyness in Sheron but asked anyway. There was something about Sheron that made Melquan recognize that he was a good kid. He had not been tarnished by the ways of the world, or the projects. It seemed as if he wanted to really accept the offer but was too bashful to do so. Still Melquan had to make an offer that Sheron couldn’t refuse. It was the drug dealer in him.
“Look, I don’t care what you say. I’m get you sumthin anyway. How about t
hat…?”
“I guess, alright,” Sheron said, giving in. “But my mother gets her welfare check tomorrow. So we’ll have whole lotta food to eat. Tomorrow, we’ll be good.”
“Okay, but you gotta make it through the night to get to tomorrow, feel me?” Melquan said.
Melquan got up from his seat and walked over to the counter and bought another order of chicken wings and French fries to go. After the order was processed and paid for he returned to Sheron and handed him the bag of food.
“Here, you go, shorty.”
“Good lookin’out, Melquan.”
Together they exited the restaurant and walked the short distance back to the projects. They made small talk the entire way, but deeper things were on Melquan’s mind. He couldn’t believe how Sheron had initially resisted the meal but was anticipating his mother’s welfare check. To him there was a strange irony in that. Melquan had equal feelings of both pity, and respect.
Back in her apartment, Sheron’s mother was geeking. High as she had ever been, Tess was feeling herself. She walked out the bathroom glancing around the apartment like her head was on a swivel. The slightest sound got her complete attention. Tess meticulously surveyed every inch from the entrance through to the kitchen. She entered the kitchen on her hands and knees, crawling. Tess was looking for lost crack rocks or anything resembling one. Real or not, they would be smoked on sight.
Tess didn’t bother to hide just how high she was. Being discreet wouldn’t make the crack monster go away. Tess found it damn near impossible to come down once she was got this high. Anyone coming inside her apartment at this very moment would have to bear witness to her desperation. Tess was on her knees searching the floor for more get high. The crack was urgently calling her.
Back in the projects, Melquan and Sheron navigated the concrete walkways. Everyone they passed seemed to know and acknowledge Melquan. The outpouring of love captured Sheron’s attention. There were enough handshakes and embraces for Sheron to see that Melquan was very popular. He watched carefully as Melquan showed love back, kissing females on their cheeks and hugs for the dudes. It was like he was walking with a famous person, a ghetto superstar.
“Wow Melquan, who don’t you know?” Sheron smiled as another group stopped gave daps, and moved on.
Continuing down the block, they walked past Melquan’s building, number 1132. Close to home, they showed him lots of love. Melquan’s ghetto pass was on full display. The projects area was really his stomping grounds. It was the place where he was born and raised.
They entered Melquan’s building on the South side. Melquan and Sheron got on the elevator and rode it to the sixth floor.
“This is where I rest, shorty,” Melquan said, reaching for his keys.
He opened the door to the two-bedroom apartment occupied by his mother. She was up, walking around the living room, dressed in a fluffy pink bathrobe. Miss Tina was honey-brown complexioned, five foot six inches tall and big boned. A curvaceous fortyish woman, Miss Tina was still hanging on strong to her youthful appearance. Her makeup was already in place and her hair perfectly wrapped up in a scarf.
Sleeping all day and pampering herself, was her daily routine. She could afford to do so because of the hefty disability check she received for hurting her hand at her post office job, some years ago. Her life was akin to that of a drug dealer, except she slept all day and partied all night. Miss Tina was a barfly; she loved to frequent the upscale bars and lounges through out the Bronx and Harlem, where moneymakers, mover and shakers of the underworld were known to gather.
“Come on in, shorty. Now you know where I live, if you ever need anything, for real, call me or come by.”
Miss Tina stood in background posturing. She halfheartedly glanced at Melquan, eavesdropping on the conversation.
“Melquan, who is that kid you got with you? Is he one of your workers, or something…?”
“Ma’…” Melquan sighed. “C’mon now… What I look like, huh?”
“Boy, you better watch your mouth and save your teeth. I don’t care how big you get I’m still your damn mother. Don’t you get too smart. I ain’t one of your lil’ friends out there in the streets. Get that! I was asking a simple question. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I need some money. I’m going out tonight.”
“Round how much do you need?”
“I don’t know… Lemme see, I’m gonna need money for a cab to get back home… Hmm um, just give me two hundred. Yeah, that should be enough. What you think…?”
“Damn ma, where you going…? Two hundred dollars…? You killin’ me.” Melquan said.
Despite his objections, Melquan would never say no to his mother. She had him wrapped around her pinkie. Miss Tina took good care of him growing up and now that he was making money, it was his turn to return the favor. Melquan couldn’t believe how avaricious her appetite for money had grown, and how selfish she had become. It was like the more he gave his mother, the more money she asked for.
Melquan reached into his pocket, and pinched off a few bills. He didn’t dare remove the money from his pocket because his mother would get greedy and ask for more. Unfortunately for Melquan, the amount of money he pinched off was more than the amount requested. He stood in front of mother attempting to count it.
“Thanks.” Miss Tina sardonically said. “No need in counting it. That looks like enough.”
Melquan shook his head in disgust and watched Miss Tina strolled back down the hall back into her bedroom. He couldn’t help but think just how much his mom was involved in the drug game, however indirectly it might have been. Most of his friends’ mothers would never take this blood money, as they called it. Miss Tina wasn’t like most mothers. She was money hungry.
Back in the days, Ms Tina would use her good looks to get whatever her heart desired. She was the pick of the litter in the projects, a hustler’s wet dream and his worst nightmare rolled into one. Her heart was equally dark, and she was corrupted like anyone in the streets. Miss Tina would chase a dollar just as hard as any crack-head chase get high.
“Melquan…!” Miss Tina shouted from her bedroom.
“Yeah,” Melquan answered.
“What did you say boy? You’re a no manners having somebody. You know that…?”
“Huh? What you say?” Melquan laughed.
“Anyway, that lil’ heifer, India keep calling my phone… She left about five messages on my damn answering machine. I started to pick up the phone and tell her about her a thing or two. Don’t you give her your cell number? What she keep calling here for? That girl worst than any damn bill collector, you hear? You better talk to her ‘fore I do.”
Melquan removed his cellphone from his pocket and realized that his phone had been on silent mode. When he checked, there were more than a dozen missed calls. All were from India.
“Ma, what you got against India? She ain’t done nothing to you.”
“Lemme tell you a thing or two. For one, I just don’t like her. Sumthin ‘bout her attitude don’t ‘gree with my spirit… India’s a little too bourgeoisie for me… Talking all proper and shit… She act like her shit don’t stink,” Miss Tina said, re-emerging from her room. She marched up the hall to where Melquan sat checking his cellphone.
“Melquan are you staying at that heifer’s house tonight?” Miss Tina abruptly asked in her best caring mother’s voice.
“Most likely…But why…?” Melquan asked, sounding perplexed.
“Hold up, wait right here. I got something for you,” Miss Tina said, walking back to her bedroom.
She returned with a handful of condoms and unceremoniously dumped them in Melquan’s unsuspecting hand.
“Here take these. And make sure you wear them. Lemme tell you a thing or two. Don’t let that heifer trick you into getting her pregnant. India’s just looking for a father for her other child and it ain’t going to be you. The only already made family you going to support is this one,” Miss Tina said, index finger pointing at herself.
&n
bsp; Melquan was dumbfounded as his mother strutted her away, mocking him with a sinister laugh. India wasn’t even on it like that, though his mother wouldn’t believe that. She had an extreme dislike for India and it blinded her to everything good about his girlfriend. He was through trying to convert a non-believer into a believer. Melquan had tried and that attempt failed miserably. The outcome remained the same. He was trapped between two strong-willed women and they would never see eye to eye. Suddenly the house phone rang. Melquan jumped out of his thoughts when he heard his mother’s voice.
“Melquan!” she shouted.
Melquan could hear the irritation in his mother’s voice, and knew the call was for him. He also knew who was calling.
“It’s that heifer, India! Answer the goddamn phone, please!”
“Hello…”
It was not the sweet voice Melquan had grown accustomed to hearing. India’s voice dripped with a venomous hiss. As soon as Melquan answered the phone, she immediately went on the attack. Rattling off question after question, she was on a never-ending quest for the truth. Melquan unsure how she would react or what she would say, just listened. He decided to play possum and say as little as possible.
“Melquan…?” India exploded. “I’ve been calling all day and night. Where were you? Where have you been? What’s going on?”
“Right here… I’m at my mother’s house. Don’t you know where you callin’, girl?”
“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve called before and left you messages on your cellphone. I’ve goteen no answer. For all I know you could be in jail, or God forbid the morgue.”
“Oh, I accidentally put my phone on silent while doing my hustle, and after I came up here I fell asleep. Me and Mike had a lot of business to take care of.”
There was no guilt to the lies he was telling his girlfriend. If lying was a class Melquan would have aced it. True to fun and not to one, Melquan was very promiscuous. Melquan was presently feeling India. He was almost was in love with her. Almost didn’t count.
Hard White Page 5
