The Sheisty Saga

by T. N. Baker

  “Churches just make me feel uncomfortable, so don’t be mad, a’ight.” Then he said those magic words: “You need some money?”

  “Yeah,” I said with a smile.

  “How much you need?” he asked.

  “About five hundred.”

  “A’ight, I got you,” he said, holding me tight. “So, what’s good for the night? You wanna go out for a drink?”

  This boy knew he could drink. Since I’d been fuckin’ with him, I’d become a bit of a lush my damn self, I thought before I said, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Later that night we hit this spot on Merrick called Quiet Storm. I’d lived in south side Jamaica all my life, and I never knew Queens had so many local hangout spots.

  C-God sat at the bar, and I went to the bathroom. The place was small but packed. On my way back to the bar, I heard the deejay say, “Free drinks for the first twenty-five ladies. Oh yeah, ladies, you got ten minutes to place your drink order.”

  You should’ve seen those thirsty bitches pushing each other as they ran over and bum-rushed the bar. The shit was crazy. It reminded me of the way them old ladies in my neighborhood be rushing to the church every Wednesday morning to get that free bag of food before it ran out. I wasn’t even tryin’ to take a chance getting back to the bar, ’cause if one of those thirsty hoes stepped on my $300 boots from Sacco’s, it was gonna be on up in there. So I waited out the ten minutes.

  Then the deejay stopped the music again and said, “Oh yeah, ladies, those drinks . . . compliments from my man C-God over there at the bar. Ha ha! I see ya, big baller. Y’all ladies thank him for quenching that thirst, a’ight. My man, this song’s for you, player.”

  The deejay was giving C props. He threw on Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin’.”

  I was pissed. I couldn’t believe this nigga was up in there spending money on those bitches, money that could’ve been spent on me. I squeezed my ass right through the crowd that had now loosened up a little. All I seen was girls up in his face smiling, and his ass enjoying every moment of it. Oh, he was really tryin’a play me.

  “Excuse me,” I said in a nasty tone.

  “Oh, this my baby right here, ladies. Say hello,” he said to the birds standing around him then turned to me. “You a’ight, ma? I got us a bottle of Mo. They ain’t got the good stuff.” I couldn’t believe this nigga was on some real pimp shit, talking ’bout “This my baby, ladies. Say hello,” like these skank-ass bitches really cared.

  “To answer your question, no, I’m not a’ight. I’m ready to go.”

  “Come on, ma. I’m just having a little fun. Besides, ain’t none of these hoes drinking what you drinking.”

  “Oh, so that makes it a’ight?”

  “Yeah, it do. We came together, and we leaving together, so drink the champagne and stop trippin’.”

  I did what he said, while he continued to flirt and acknowledge my presence at the same time. I was so pissed off. Besides his money, I made him look good, so for him to sit there and play me was fucked up. I could have had any nigga I wanted, and I chose him. None of those hoes looked better than me. I repeated this in my head over and over again to build my shattered confidence back up. Then I spotted Shana and some girl on the dance floor. That was my cue to break away for a minute.

  “C-God, I’ll be back.” I got up and walked over to say what’s up. Shana was high as hell. She introduced me to her friend Chasity, who from the looks of it seemed to have straight attitude toward me, which I ignored. I didn’t have much to say to Shana, and neither did she. You would have never guessed that we were—or should I say used to be best friends. I asked if she was going to Keisha’s son’s christening, and if so, I’d see her there. I felt kinda awkward, so I used that as my cue to move along.

  Just as I was about to go look for Mr. Don Fuckin’ Juan, he found me.

  I noticed Shana’s eyes light up from the sight of C-God, so I didn’t even bother to introduce them to each other. I grabbed his hand and just walked off.

  On the way back to my house, I let C-God have it. I told him he better not ever try to fuckin’ play me like that again. He apologized too easily and promised to make it up to me.

  When we pulled up in front of my place, he told me he couldn’t stay because he had some business to take care of. He said he’d see me the next day. I planted a wet one on those thick lips of his, said good night, and went inside my house.

  Maybe I was tripping just a little. Shit, what the fuck was a few six-dollar drinks compared to my rent, my car note, and the five or six hundred he kept in my pocket for me to spend? I thought as I lay in the bed and drifted off into a sound sleep.

  Chapter 11

  EPIPHANY

  “Epiphany, pick up the phone. Hello? Hello.” My mother’s voice coming from the answering machine woke me up out of my sleep.

  “Yeah, Ma!” I said as I picked up and glanced at the clock that read 12:00 p.m.

  “Why are you still sleeping? Still hanging out until late night, huh?”

  “Mommy, come on. Is that what you called me for?” I asked.

  “No, I called because you’re my only child and I don’t think I need a reason to call you. Even though you’re grown, I still worry about you, you know. I also worry about your choice of men.”

  “Huh.” I let out a deep sigh, hoping she wasn’t gon’ take it there, but she did.

  “Listen, Epee, your father and I worry about you, whether you like it or not. When we heard that you were running around with that loser, I couldn’t believe that my daughter would settle for such trash. He ain’t no good, and I got a bad feeling about you being with him.

  “Now, listen, Epee, you know that I love me a thug too, but it will catch up to you. I’ve been through so much as a young girl dealing with your father, but he always put family first, and he kept us out of harm’s way at all times. That’s why I stayed with him. These li’l niggas out here nowadays ain’t got that sense of family. All they know is shooting up shit and going back and forth to jail. Your father had a plan. He used the negative and turned it to a positive by taking his money, making investments, and turning his shit legit. He didn’t run around killing and making babies all over the place. He took care of home.”

  “Mommy, I don’t wanna hear it. Daddy hustled in the streets for years. I remember. So what, you tryin’a tell me he ain’t never came across a life or death situation where it was either him or his enemy’s life in jeopardy? If so, I don’t believe it. Killing comes with the territory.”

  “Your father ain’t no killer. Don’t you ever come out your face to me about him like that. He’s always been there for you and me both. He’s still paying for your shit every month, young lady. You need to recognize when shit is too good. You’re an adult now. He doesn’t have to take care of you the way he does, Miss Thang, so think about that, okay?” she said in a nasty, like-she-just-let-me-have-it tone.

  After that, I lost it, ’cause I felt like whatever they did for me, they owed me. No matter what they ever gave me, they couldn’t give me back my virginity. I started to scream at her.

  “Look, Daddy’s there for you, Mommy. Yeah, he might put a check in the mail every month for me, but where was he when I really needed him? He was too busy wining and dining and taking you on trips, while Uncle Ramel was fuc—just forget it. I gotta go!” Almost in tears and ready to let the cat out the bag, I slammed the phone down.

  Chapter 12

  KEISHA

  Tucker was not happy about me wanting Epiphany to be our son’s godmother. For the past three months, all he had kept saying was, “You sure about that? ’Cause that trick ain’t cut out for the job. The only person Epiphany thinks about is herself. Look how she played my man out. Matter of fact, look how she played you when you was pregnant.”

  “I know Epiphany ain’t big on kids, but she’s my best friend, and regardless of what you think, that girl was there for me when I didn’t have you. What about Malikai’s ass? He ain’t no fucking angel, but
you don’t hear me tripping out. So what is this really about? What got you so salty toward my friend? Is it because she dropped your boy?” I said, defending my friend. Tucker just looked at me and didn’t say a word.

  The ceremony was beautiful, despite how Tucker or Mali might have felt about Epiphany. Everyone handled themselves like adults. Thank God!

  Malikai had brought his new girl, or should I say one of them. Shana didn’t even show up, and I didn’t bother to ask Epiphany about Corey. I was sure she had her reasons for not bringing him.

  After the baptism, we all decided to head out to Manhattan to celebrate over an early dinner. I was surprised but happy when E agreed to come along. I thought being around Malikai and his friend would’ve made her uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the case. Actually, the way Mali kept watching Epiphany might have made his date feel a little out of place.

  * * *

  We reached home around eight o’clock. After bathing my li’l man, giving him a warm bottle, and finally getting him to sleep, the next thing I did was call Shana to make sure she was okay. I paged her three times before calling her house.

  “Hi, Ms. Pat. Is Shana there?”

  “No. Who’s calling?”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Pat. This is Keisha.”

  “Oh, hi, sweetie. How’s your little bundle of joy doing?”

  “He’s doing good. I just put him to bed.”

  “That’s good. When you gon’ bring him by to see me?” Ms. Pat asked.

  “Soon, real soon. Can you please tell that girl to call me?”

  “I will when I see her.”

  “What, she don’t live there no more?” I asked.

  “Barely. That child stay in them damn streets, and when she here, she got some nigga ringing my telephone all times of the night. I guess he her man or something. I don’t know, ’cause I ain’t never seen him. All I do know is when he call, she’s out the door like a bat out of hell.”

  “Well, what about her night job?” I asked, ’cause Ms. Pat will tell it all.

  “What job? Shaking her naked tail for them perverts. Shit, that ain’t no job.”

  “Ms. Pat, she’s dancing now?”

  “Now? She’s been doing that for a while. She didn’t tell you?”

  “No!” I said, surprised.

  “Yeah, she’s been dancing with some new girlfriend of hers.”

  “What girl?”

  “I don’t know, but she ain’t from around here. I think her name is Cassidy,” Ms. Pat answered. “What, y’all ain’t friends no more?”

  “Of course we’re friends. I’ve just been tied up with the baby, that’s all.”

  “Well, that’s good you ain’t out in them streets, ’cause ain’t nothing out there but trouble. I’m through talking. I done washed my hands with Shana. She just gon’ have to find out what’s out there the hard way.”

  “Okay, Ms. Pat, just tell her I called, please.”

  “Like I said, when I see her, I’ll tell her. You take care now. Bye.”

  Whew, that lady knew she could do some talking! Damn, talking to Shana’s mother made me really start to worry about her. I just prayed my friend was okay.

  Tucker came out of the bathroom smelling so fresh and so clean. He must have been feeling the family thing, ’cause he laid his head on my lap and said, “Keish, you know I love you, right, baby?” I nodded. “We got us a fly li’l man. He looks just like his pops. So, let’s just do the damn thing. Be my wife. That’s all I want from you. We gon’ do it up big, too,” he said proudly. I was speechless and trying to hold back my tears.

  “Keish, I’m getting tired of this lifestyle I’m living. I got enough money stashed to take us up outta here, anywhere you want to go, and to hold us over for a while. So, think about it, Keish. I’m serious. I promise you after I make these last couple of moves this hustling shit is a wrap.”

  I couldn’t hold back my tears of joy any longer. I’d been praying for that moment. I kissed his lips and made love to him like never before. Everything was falling right into place, I thought in silence, and before I closed my eyes I thanked God for answering my prayers. I asked Him to look after my two best friends.

  Chapter 13

  EPIPHANY

  On the bright side of things, I thought I might be in love with C-God. That shit was crazy. When we were together, I swear the nigga gave me butterflies. He was definitely the first out of many. I’d never had a man that took pleasure in stimulating my body the way he did. I mean, I never had a nigga that just concentrated on satisfying the pussy without just trying to get a nut. You feel me?

  One night, I had a dream that I was having his seed, and I woke up happy thinking about the possibilities. Now, you know his shit was good if I woke up hoping to become baby momma number six. Yep, six babies and five mommas. Now, that’s five times the drama for your ass. That was part of the not-so-bright side of what I’m talking ’bout, ’cause when there is a bright side of any relationship, there is a dark side that follows, and everybody has one.

  Lately, everything had been, “Yo, I gotta go take care of some business, so I can’t stay long,” or “I might be back, I might not.” What type of shit was that? I’ll tell you exactly what it was: it was some man-shit for your ass. You see, before they get you, they gotta have you no matter what it takes. But once they get you, the thrill is gone and you become just another piece of pussy.

  One night, I got a call from Bay, this older Jamaican cat who was still in the game. He hustled weed. We got up every now and then on the low . . . no public appearances, because he looks like a monster—a monster with money coming out his ass. Bay would trick off hundreds just to eat my pussy and that’s all. I would let him, but it didn’t turn me on at all. I mean literally, he really did look scary, and on top of that, his uncircumcised dick looked like a fucking oversized anteater.

  On the real, though, Bay was the kind of trick that you’d want to keep around, because there were times when all I had to do was call him up, kick some “I miss you” bullshit for some cash, and he’d give it up.

  In his strong Jamaican accent, he ran his game. “Baby girl, where ya been? I miss yer sweet stuff. Come, let me see you and take you shopping.”

  “Oh, yeah? When would you like to do all of that?” I asked.

  “Tomorrow, baby,” he responded.

  Of course my answer was yes, ’cause I didn’t turn down money or shopping. We set up a date to meet around 1:00 p.m. at the Cheesecake Factory on Long Island. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I said I didn’t like being seen with him, but it was either that or meeting up at his house. Besides, I already had it planned out: after we grabbed a bite, he’d give me some cash, and I’d tell the nigga that I was on my period or something, ’cause Jamaicans don’t run those kind of red lights.

  I woke up that morning, checking my caller ID. I fell asleep the night before waiting on C to call me back after paging and calling his ass around three or four times. There were no calls from him, so I paged him again. That was the bullshit I hated: that inconsiderate shit that came with fucking with a drug dealer. You never knew what was going on in the streets when a nigga didn’t call you back. Three things came to mind: I hope he ain’t somewhere shot the fuck up, locked up, or out fucking some other bitch. Shit, I know it sounds fucked up, but I’d rather his ass be dead or locked up than for him to be out somewhere screwing some other ho.

  I called Keisha to push back the time that I was coming to scoop my godson for a couple of hours, while she went to enroll in school. Things had been so cool between us, and I was surprisingly loving the god-mommy thing more and more.

  “Hold on, Keisha. Somebody’s on my other line,” I told her. It was C calling with some bullshit excuse about how he was so busy last night that he forgot to call, and his battery was dead on his cell phone. Yeah, whatever. I’d heard it all before, I said to myself, while he kept going on and on with excuses.

  “Okay, C, let me go, ’cause I’m on my way to Keisha’s,” I said
with an attitude. He didn’t know he just gave me a reason to go see Bay and not feel guilty about it.

  “Yo, where she live at again?” C-God inquired.

  “What you mean, where she live at again? I never told you before where she lived at in the first place, and what’s with all the questions lately about my girl and her man? You checking for her or something?” I asked heatedly.

  “Nah, boo, I was just gonna stop by her crib and hit you with some of this dough I was busy getting last night, that’s all.”

  “Well, when I get home, I’ll call you, then you can come over and we can both hit each other off. Okay, daddy?” He liked when I called him daddy.

  “Yeah, a’ight then. See you later. Be good. One.”

  I wasn’t trying to be on no jealous shit, but C had been asking me a lot of fucking questions about Keisha and Tucker. If it wasn’t Keisha he was interested in, then it must have had something to do with her man. Whatever it was, I didn’t want no parts of it.

  Speaking of Keisha, I clicked back over to her holding on my other line and made sure she was cool with the time change. “Girl, don’t be late,” she yelled as we were hanging up.

  I took a quick shower, threw on my Juicy jeans and matching jacket and some Timbs, and put my hair in a ponytail. I didn’t want to look too good for Bay’s ass, which was hard to do even when I dressed down, but who’s complaining?

  I arrived at the restaurant around 1:15, which was cool since I didn’t want to seem anxious anyway. The wait was always long at this restaurant, but the food was good.

  There was no sign of Bay, so I decided to give my name to the hostess. She said there was a twenty minute wait.

  At one-thirty, I called Bay’s cell phone but got no answer. I kept calling until some Jamaican woman, who sounded like she was crying, answered his cell. She gave me the third degree before she told me he was dead. She said she found her brother this morning. He was shot in the head, and whoever did this didn’t know who they was messing with. Her other brothers were on their way from Kingston, Jamaica, and they were gonna “lick up every bomboclot until they find the one who did this.”