Sheisty

by Baker, T. N.

  I'm so excited; Tucker and I have already come up with people on our guest list and counting. Once again, Epiphany and Malikai have to put up with each other because he's the best man and she's my maid of honor. I told her jokingly, she should have stayed with him because she sees him more now then when they were together! The catering hall that I chose is so beautiful and once we fill it with white roses, an ice sculpture of kissing doves, a seafood salad bar, top shelf open bar stocked with Cristal, a popular DJ spinning the records and all our family and close friends, it's gonna be a day to remember. Oh, and I forgot to mention Tucker's planning to have me serenaded by one of my favorite singers. I have so many, but I'm hoping it's Gerald Levert. He won't tell me who, so I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

  Ring...ring...

  My cell phone snapped me right out of my wedding plans. It was Tucker calling. There had to be some drama 'cause that's the only time he calls my cell. Tucker never discusses the game on the home phone.

  "Hello," I answered hoping everything was okay.

  "Hey Keish," he said on the other end sounding a little stressed out.

  "What's wrong and when are you coming home, we miss you?"

  "Keish, I miss you guys too; I can't wait to hold you in my arms. I wanted to send for you and little man but some kids that I fuck with down here just got knocked (arrested). So, shit is a little crazy right now. I gotta hit his people off with a little bail money and then I should be back up that way by Saturday.

  A'ight, I love you, gotta go." He hung up before I could respond.

  I swear I can't wait until this shit is over so we can live a nor-mal life. I spend so much time worrying and praying to God to keep my man safe that it's starting to drive me nuts; I even started a trust fund for the baby and stashed away over 50g's in a safety deposit box and let's not mention the million dollar life insurance policy just in case, God forbid, something happens to Tucker. Lord only knows. I hate to think like that, but this shit scares me.

  EPIPHANY

  Tonight was the first time I seen C-God sniff coke. "Yo boo, you want some? It'll make the sex a lot better," he said.

  "Nah. I don't fuck with that shit." Then he had the nerve to say, I ain't no fun. Shit, I didn't think my sex needed any improvement. This nigga's tripping. For one, I barely see him anymore and then his wife had the nerve to call my house the other night talking 'bout I better leave her man alone. That's right, so-called wife. I didn't even know he had one of those.

  Unfortunately for her, he was eating my pussy when she called.

  Therefore, I even didn't trip; I just passed him the phone. The only reason I'm certain that it's over between them, is because of what he said and the hateful way he screamed at her when he said, "Yo, ain't nothing wrong with my seeds, right? Then what the fuck I tell you? If they a'ight, then don't be fuckin' calling me for no bullshit and don't call my girl's house no fuckin' more either, understand? I asked him how she got my number, he didn't know the answer to that question. Then I asked him why didn't he tell me he was married.

  "Cause the bitch is crazy." He explained that she only calls herself his wife because she got two kids by him, so the bitch feels special. I let the shit go, 'cause she couldn't possibly be that stupid to let him talk to her like that and still be fuckin' with him.

  I gave them both the benefit of the doubt plus, I know he's been stressed out lately and I wasn't trying to add on to it. But a lot of C's stress is because the nigga don't believe in using condoms and now half his baby's momma's wanna take him to court for child support. As far as him hustling, his product must not be moving to well 'cause lately he ain't been spending money like he used to. Now, he's breaking the # 1 rule of the drug game: Getting high on his own supply.

  "C, what's up? Is everything okay?" I asked.

  "I'm good," he said.

  "You sure, cause I didn't know you was getting high."

  "What the fuck is you talking 'bout, 'getting high.' Shit, every muthafucka out there hustling fuck with lil' girl every now and then. You don't be complaining when you getting this stiff dick up in you, huh, thanks to this shit right here," he said sounding very irritated.

  "Listen, calm down, I just didn't know C-God. I barely see you anymore," I said, feeling a little intimidated by his tone.

  "Well, I can't fuck with you all the time. A nigga gotta make money. Especially, since you be in my fucking pockets all the time. So, don't start beating me in my fuckin' head 'bout what the fuck I do with my time cause I'ma start dismissing bitches and niggas, whoever trying to stop me from getting that paper.

  That's my word nigga's don't know. I want it all and if I gotta start killing muthafuckas for it, then that's what it's 'gon be. These niggas is out here pushing fly ass whips, bouncing in and out of town and shit like they the Kings of fucking New York, they 'bout to get it and they ain't even gonna see it coming. On that note, yo, I'm out. I got moves to make." C-God grabbed his pint of Remy V.S.O.P. and headed out my front door.

  "I started to assume shit. Could he be talking about Malikai and Tucker? They be out of town a lot and Tucker does push a 745LI BMW, SL500 Mercedes and a Range Rover; Mali just has his Navigator truck. With all the questions he be asking me about Keisha, it's possible. I don't know what to do. If I tell Tucker and Mali to watch their back, then C might fuck me up and I ain't trying to have that happen. Besides, what if I'm wrong? I'm sure there's other nigga's out there getting money in and out of town. I'ma just mind my business.

  It's been two weeks since C-God walked out of here talking shit that night. He hasn't called me and I haven't called him. Part of me misses him and his money. The other part just doesn't want to fuck with him anymore because of the way he acted. I've been over Keisha's crib a lot lately helping her get this wedding together and neither she nor Tucker mentioned any possible beef with C-God. Keisha knew I was fucking with him so believe me if there was some drama involving Tucker she would have said something to me about it by now.

  Watching Keisha and Tucker all over each other kissing and laughing made me miss C-God more and more. We had good times too and maybe I should've been easy, knowing the stress he's been going through.

  When I got in my car to head home, the first thing I did was call him. I didn't want to call the cell so I just left a message on his 2-way telling him how much I missed him, that way if he felt the same he'd hit me back. In less then two minutes after leaving that message my cell was ringing, it was C calling me back.

  He apologized for the way he acted. He said the only reason he didn't call me was because he felt like maybe he might of turned me off when I seen him sniff coke. He assured me that it wasn't a habit and if I was uncomfortable with it, he promised to not even fuck around with it.

  Then he said, "You know I love you, babygirl." A big Kool-Aid smile grew across my face as I said, "I love you back. Now, can you meet me at my house and give me some of that stiff dick?"

  "I'm on my way," he replied.

  SHANA

  I know it had to be Epiphany that called and had him flying outta here. If it was one of his babies' mommas or business, he would've talked in front of me. He told me about their argument, but I guess all that talk about him not fucking with her boring ass anymore was just a bunch of bullshit. I ain't stressing it cause I'm the one laying up in his crib, making runs with him, counting his money, moving 500 X pills a week at Honey's for his ass, and fucking him anyway he wants it. I'm that down ass bitch that, that thug ass nigga needs by his side.

  So, if he wants to fuck with Epiphany still, I ain't 'gon sweat it, 'cause he dropped her ass off for a reason and came back to Quiet Storm that night, to holla at me. When I seen him with Epiphany, I was just gonna fall back, but her nigga chose me. So like Snoop Dog said, "It ain't no fun if my homie can't have none." Let the games begin; for once the shoe is on the other foot. The shit I put up with from Epiphany all these years, she better be glad all I'm doing is fucking her man.

  I should've beat her ass on sev
eral occasions a long time ago. Like that time when we were 17 and she fucked Curtis Jacobson just to get back at his boy Dre for doing her dirty. She knew I was crazy about Curtis. I use to love the ground that boy walked on and even though he wasn't feeling me, she still violated our friendship rule. Talk about being hurt; I was crushed, but I let it slide. Then there was times where she used to try and play me around a bunch of niggas 'cause I ain't have as much as she did so the bitch would give me clothes--nice shit she didn't want and Keisha couldn't fit. Around guys, Epiphany always got a lot of the attention, but that wasn't enough. She'd say shit like "Girl them jeans I gave you fit nice. Did the other things fit good too?" Like the ho ain't seen me all fucking day to ask me that shit in private. I would get so embarrassed until I got use to it. Keisha would always do what Epiphany told her to do, but I wasn't having that bullshit and she couldn't stand it.

  The girl got something against people who live in the projects too. She thinks she's better, but if her father didn't hustle hard to get that house in a neighborhood that's still the hood, she'd probably be my next-door neighbor. What it all boils down to is this: I had enough of her and even though Keisha never did anything but look out for me, she's Epiphany's friend first. The bitch barely came to see her when she was knocked up, but who did she ask to be the godmother and maid of honor, not me. It's best that I just keep my distance from both of them bitches for a while.

  I picked up the phone to call Chasity; I've been so caught up with C-God I ain't really been fucking with her. I know she's mad.

  "Hello," Chasity answered.

  "What's up Chass, I miss you."

  "Oh yeah, you miss me now? So is this how it's gonna be, every time you get a little dick in your life? What, you just 'gon push me off to the side?" she asked.

  "Listen, C-God and my relationship is not just about sex and you need to stop tripping cause it ain't like I don't put you down.

  You enjoy getting high for free and his dick too. Me and you is me and you, but I told you from the door, dick and hustling is something I ain't never giving up," I said, setting the record straight.

  "So he be paying you?" Chasity asked.

  "Hell yeah, that's the only reason why I ain't been coming to Honey's to dance. I be in the bathroom pushing that Dr.

  Feelgood hard, 'bout 300 or more ecstasy pills at $30 a pop in less then a week. That's 9g's and out of that I get a bullshit lil' $1,500. But I need his ass right now cause I'm trying to get my own hustle going through his connect. I'm stacking my dough too, so I can get a whip and come pick you up from the club sometimes. But anyway, what's up for tonight, lets go hang out," I suggested, knowing that would increase the peace between us.

  "A'ight, there's this nice all girl spot on the Westside of Manhattan." Chasity said.

  "That's what's up, I'll meet you there at 11 p.m."

  EPIPHANY

  If I would've known a couple of weeks apart would have made shit this good between me and C-God, I would have started a fight with him when he first started to fuck up. Tonight, we're hanging out in the city. I'm gonna rock my leather jumpsuit because it hugs the hell out of my curves and with the chinchilla fur jacket that C just bought me, that shit just adds more fuel to my fire.

  Business must have picked up for him because he's definitely splurging again. Since we been back together, he's been handling a lot of business over the phone and spending every night in my bed. I haven't picked up my phones or checked my answering machine that reads "full" in days. There's been no need to, I had what I wanted right here.

  I grabbed the phone and called up Walk That Walk Salon to speak to Ardie ( girlfriend knows he can do some hair) to see if he would squeeze me in his morning schedule, which I'm sure, was already tight. After he cursed me out for missing my last appointment three months ago, he agreed by saying, "You better not be late."

  I hated driving all the way to Harlem to get my hair done, but it was worth it. I got up, threw on some clothes and set off the automatic starter on my car so it could warm up because it was cold outside. I walked into the bedroom and woke up C- God to let him know I was on my way to my hair appointment.

  I know he probably would use that as an opportunity to go take care of some business. I kissed his lips and told him I'd see him later.

  When I arrived at the salon, Ardie snatched me up as soon as I signed in and started my wash. I told him I wanted something a little different then my usual.

  "Miss Thing, I know you ain't trying to cut all this pretty hair."

  "No I don't want to cut it, but maybe add some color."

  "Oh, 'cause I was fixin' to say girl, I'll cut the hell out of it.

  Humph, you'll still be a diva either way, but don't worry girl I got you," he said.

  I wasn't worried because Ardie was the best and three hours later, a few shades lighter and a couple of streaks; I was definitely feeling fierce. I even tipped girlfriend $50 which was a stretch from the usual $15. I felt too cute to go home, just yet, so I headed to Macy's on 34th to do a little shopping.

  I reached home a little after six and called C on his cell to let him know that I was home. Then I decided to check the messages on my cell and answering machine. Most of my calls were from Keisha. She was calling to see if I was okay, because she hadn't heard from me. There were also two messages from my Dad calling to tell me and remind me about the big bash he's throwing for my Mom's 40th birthday, which was tomorrow.

  Oh shit! I forgot all about her birthday, I spoke to her after we had that argument, but that was over a month ago. I quickly dialed my father's cell phone and gave him a song and dance about how I'm working as a customer service rep for a cellular phone company and my hours have been hectic. That's why I took so long to get back to him, but I will be there and if he needs me to bring anything just let me know.

  Daddy always seems to fall for whatever I told him, but not this time. I sensed some real anger in his voice.

  "I know you're grown, but your mother and I feel you should come around or call more often then you do. I've been calling you for damn near three weeks and you're just getting back to me. Anything could have been wrong Epee. This shit has to stop.

  The only time we hear from you is when you need something and since that job is keeping you so busy, let him pay your car note and your rent from now on. I'll see you at the party." Click.

  A dial tone was all I heard.

  I can't believe he just said that to me. Shit, I don't need him or his money and what he don't know is any job I'm fucking with is paying my bills. Daddy's check goes straight to the bank. Shit, that's one thing Mommy did do right. She ain't raise no fool. She always told me to get it while the getting is good, so when it stops, I'll have. And, that's exactly what I do. I deposit the check daddy gives me every month in the bank. Then, when it clears I withdraw it and put it in my safety deposit box. Keisha put me onto the safety deposits because if you have more then $10 in the bank, they will report it to the IRS and then they'll be all up in your business. So to avoid that, a deposit box is better. I ain't gonna say how much I got saved up, but let's just say if it ever rains or pours, I'm good!

  C-God rolled up in front of my place just before midnight with his boy Mike, who hates me for whatever reason. From the look on his face, he wasn't too happy about me hanging out with the fellas tonight. I could tell 'cause the nigga even hesitated like he had some shit to think about before he gave up the front seat.

  Let me tell you about this nigga Mike. He's one of them arrogant ass niggas; mad at the world, but especially at women.

  "Man, them chicks is all the same; only good for fucking, or getting fucked up for fucking up. I'll beat a bitch ass in a minute.

  I don't give a fuck. Them ho-bitches know not to fuck with me." That's the type shit that comes out of Mike's mouth.

  Unfortunately, he's C-God's right-hand man, basically just another "do boy." He's a hot-headed lil' 20 year old with a happy trigger finger. He will go all out for C, 'cause C-God's been l
ooking out for Mike since he was a lil' nigga.

  Nevertheless, the feelings are mutual because I can't stand his ass either.

  When we got to the club the place was pretty small. It must have been an exclusive spot because from the outside it didn't even look like a club. The music was hot to def and you had to be on balla status just to get in the spot. I mean you could only sit at a table if you were popping bubbly at $350 a cork.

  We sat in a cozy lil' corner, and C ordered three bottles of the good stuff. Cristal is a lil' overrated to me 'cause the shit's nasty, but I'll drink and order it if a nigga's buying it. After a couple of glasses, I got up to go to the ladies room. As I walked through the crowed little club, I felt someone grab my hand. It was Smitty with a devilish smile. I snatched my hand away from him and proceeded to the bathroom. My heart started racing. I felt nothing but pure hatred towards that boy. I took my time in the restroom, hoping he would go away. At the same time, I had to get it together and walk back out there before C-God started to wonder where I was.

  "Yo, come here!" Smitty said as he grabbed me again when I walked back past him. Only this time his grip was much stronger around my wrist.

  "Get off of me," I screamed, trying to yank away from him, but his grip just got tighter as he pulled me closer.

  Smitty put his hand on my ass. "You stuck up lil' bitch, why you acting like that? I just wanted to say what's up to you. It ain't like I ain't already had the pussy. Stupid lil' bitch, matter fact, how's the pussy doing since I beat it up?"

  "Get the fuck off of me you fucking rapist," I screamed. I could tell I embarrassed him with that 'cause his friends started to laugh.

  Then one of them said, "Yo son, you took the ass?"