Thirsty

by Mike Sanders

  My heart raced like crazy until I heard the driver’s words, “Yo J.T., let’s be out ’fore I haveta straighten one o’ these niggas and make light shine through one o’ they asses for not mindin’ they fuckin’ bizness out here.”

  When I was finally able to see who that voice belonged to I noticed that he was a light-brown skinned guy wearing a backwards fitted cap. He had an oversized platinum chain draped around his neck. When he stuck his hand out the window to thump ashes off the blunt he was smoking I saw that his wrist was wrapped in an ice-encrusted timepiece. I also noticed that his pinkie was laced in some nice sparkly shit as well.

  Yep, street niggas, I thought while shifting my gaze from the driver back to J.T.

  “Simmer down, nigga. I’m comin,” J.T. replied to his boy just before the driver’s side window went back up. He turned back to me. “I’m about to dip, but I wanna holla at you later. Like perhaps tomorrow…if you’re not too busy. So, why don’t you...” He paused to take out his iPhone, then said, “Your number would really make my night complete.”

  I thought for a brief moment, contemplating on whether or not to give him my number. After a few hesitant seconds I decided against it. I flipped my cell back open and replied, “Why don’t I just get yours instead.”

  J.T. wasted no time in relaying his number to me as he watched me punch his digits into my phone and save the number.

  After saying our goodbyes, with promises of hooking up in the near future, I watched as he strolled around and climbed into the passenger’s side of the large truck.

  I thought, I gotta have me some of that! I hope his dick is as long as his dollars!

  While observing him walk away I noticed that he walked with a swagger that bordered the thin line between that of confidence and that of arrogance. Either way, that walk turned a sistahh on.

  Minutes after J.T. had left, I was back inside Nine Three Five, retreiving my girl so we could be out because there was money to be made.

  CHAPTER TWO JUSTICE

  I pulled my silver Chrysler 300 into the Waffle House on Sugar Creek Road in search of the Honda I’d witnessed the two groupies leaving the club in. If a person didn’t know any better they’d think a block party was in progress outside of the restaurant. Women were prancing around as if they were in a fashion show and the niggas had their trunks popped open, blasting music. It was chaotic!

  I slowly cruised through the crowded lot, ignoring the niggas who were motioning for me to stop so they could holla. I didn’t see the car I was looking for so I assumed that the girls had probably gone to the Waffle House on South Boulevard, the one closest to the Embassy Suites hotel. I was silently hoping that the girls would indeed stick to the itinerary that I’d overheard them discussing in the bathroom earlier. If not, a monkey wrench would’ve definitely been thrown into my plans. After slowly maneuvering through the melee I exited the parking lot and pulled back onto the main road.

  “I’m kinda hungry. Why didn’t we go in?” Sapphire asked from the passenger’s side. She had no idea that at that moment I had ulterior motives for going to the restaurant and that food was the farthest thing from my mind.

  “It was too crowded out there. We goin’ to another one.” I got onto the Interstate and pushed it, making the “Ghetto Bentley” purr as we cruised down 1-85.

  A little while later we were cruising through the parking lot of the Waffle House on South Boulevard. This one was a lot less crowded and the parking lot was quiet and serene. It was nothing like the fiasco on Sugar Creek that we’d just left. As I rode past the front of the restaurant I immediately saw the two groupies inside. They were seated in a corner booth with menus, talking and laughing heartily.

  I pulled around to the side of the building and spotted what I’d been searching for. Bingo! There was the Honda. To my satisfaction, it was parked away from all the other cars. By parking in such a secluded area the girls had made phase two of my plan a lot easier than I’d anticipated.

  I parked on side of the restaurant, out of view of the patrons whom were inside and far enough away from the street so that no one could see us. I instructed Sapphire to go inside and order some carry-out.

  “Get me one o’ those patty melt things with extra pickles and an iced tea.”

  I dug into my hand bag for some money, handed her a few bills, and waited for her to get out so I could execute phase two.

  Sapphire grabbed her bag, opened the door, and exited the car. I watched as she headed for the entrance of the restaurant. Once she was inside I reached over, opened my glove compartment, and searched for the tool I needed to carry out my task. After moving my .380 aside and rummaging through a few scattered papers, I finally found what I’d been looking for. I quickly grabbed it by the handle and clutched it tightly in my palm.

  Moments later, my door was open and I was out of the car with my eyes scanning the area like a surveillance camera, making sure no one was watching me. Satisfied that no eyes were on me, I moved swiftly towards the Honda. My heels were click-clacking on the pavement with each step I took. When I reached the girls’ car I looked around again just to be certain I wasn’t being watched. Flicking open the switchblade I had in my palm, I bent down in those tight ass shorts and jabbed one of the back tires twice. The air rushing out of the rubber sounded like a nine hundred pound man was taking a fart. I waited for a few moments to make sure the tire had completely deflated before I moved inconspicuously back to my car unnoticed.

  After about five minutes of being seated back inside my vehicle I saw Sapphire exiting the restaurant, carrying two boxes and trying to balance two large drinks. I looked past her and took a quick glimpse back inside the restaurant at the two groupies. I saw that they were busy eating the meals they had ordered. They were totally oblivious to what I had just done.

  Sapphire started whining as soon as she opened the door.

  “Girl, you could’ve at least tried to help me carry this shit.” Once inside she closed the door, then blurted out, “Oh, shit, wait a minute.”

  She opened the door and retrieved one of the drinks from the roof of the car.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Sapphire asked while I was pulling out of the lot. She opened one of the boxes that was resting on her lap and took a bite of bacon, then licked her fingers. The aroma of the food was starting to make my stomach growl a little.

  “I gotta go meet my brother,” I told Sapphire as I watched her munch on her food. “But first we gonna go eat this food.”

  I was tapping my French manicured fingernails on the steering wheel in tune to Jamie Foxx’s CD as I drove.

  “Oooh, that’s my shit!” Sapphire stated as she reached down and increased the volume on my stereo while snapping her fingers and grooving in her seat.

  I rode for a few blocks until we were near the hotel where my latest gold mine lay. I pulled the Chrysler into the parking lot of a Mini-Mart that was directly across the street from the Embassy Suites hotel. Next to a pay phone is where I parked and killed the engine while allowing the radio to continue to play. Sapphire looked over at me and shook her head. I knew she had questions as to what I was up to. Only she didn’t ask because she was used to seeing me do sneaky shit on occasion.

  We sat and ate our food while talking about a few of the fine ass men who had been at the club. I didn’t want to leave the club as early as we had, but my motto is M.O.D. (Money over Dick). Therefore, a bitch had to do what a bitch had to do!

  I commented in between bites of my patty melt, “You know if I didn’t haveta handle this binness with Monk we could’ve hung out a little while longer.”

  “Hell, I ain’t up for that shit tonight anyway.” Sapphire paused. “That shit wit’ Joy threw me all the way off my square.”

  Thinking back to the confrontation that Sapphire was referring to, I remembered the way she had checked her cousin.

  “Lemme find out you tryna get all gangsta an’ shit all of a sudden,” I teased while peeping her demeanor.

 
Sapphire looked up from her plate and smirked. “I ain’t sayin’ all that. I’m just tired of people taking my kindness for weakness.”

  Her voice was hushed.

  As an afterthought she added, “I might not be all ‘gangstress’ like your ass, but I can hold my own in any situation, thank you.” She had a twinge of sarcasm in her voice as she spoke.

  “Oh, is that right?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. You betta ask somebody.” Sapphire was smiling.

  I was watching the hotel’s entrance as we continued to talk.

  Sapphire peeped my shifting eyes and finally asked, “Girl, what the hell are we up to? Why we sittin’ out here in this damn parking lot eating? And why yo’ ass keep watching that damn hotel?” Her words were strung along like one big run-on sentence.

  “I told you I gotta meet my brother,” I left it at that. I changed the subject back to the guys at the club. “Met somebody tonight.”

  “Who and when?” Sapphire asked. She was curious to know when I’d had time to meet somebody. We had been together all night and she couldn’t remember me giving anybody more than fifteen seconds of my time.

  “A guy named J.T. And it was when I stepped outside to use the phone. Talking about fine? This nigga was that with a capital F!” I was still watching the street as I spoke. “Then his boy pulled up in a damn Hummer! Now, this nigga here was laced! All I needed to see was his wrist and how icy that chain was that was swinging from his neck. Girl, I think I was talking to the appetizer while the entree was sitting in that damn truck.”

  “You mean to tell me them niggas was doin’ it like that and you didn’t come get me? Oooh, you know you dead wrong for that.”

  “Girl, you know I’ma put a bitch on,” I assured my ace. Just then, I spotted what I’d been looking for. “’Bout damn time,” I stated more so to myself than to Sapphire as I wiped my lips with a napkin and started the car.

  Sapphire looked up from her meal and followed my gaze toward the vehicle that I was referring to.

  “Who dat?” She squinted her eyes in an attempt to recognize the car.

  I told her it was Monk as I was pulling away from the pay phone and back out into the street. I blinked my lights at the Mustang, and then I followed my brother to a nearby Amoco gas station. I pulled in and parked parallel beside Monk so that my window was right next to his. Both our windows descended at the same time. Immediately, my nostrils were attacked by the strong weed smell that was emanating from inside the Mustang.

  “What up big sis?” my younger brother spoke. Due to his habitual weed and cigarette smoking his voice was kind of husky for his nineteen years of age. He was slouched down behind the wooden steering wheel with a black fitted cap pulled down past his eyebrows. His slanted eyes were barely visible.

  “You got that?” I asked, not wanting to waste time with small talk.

  “Do Fluffy got fleas?” He was being sarcastic, causing his two passengers to laugh. “Hell yeah we got that. You know not to question that. You know I’m ’bout my binness,” he stated arrogantly.

  Then he reached down in his lap and handed me a wad of crumpled bills through the open window while the guy on his passenger’s side spoke to Sapphire.

  “Wuzzup Phire? You act like you don’t know a nigga. You can’t speak?”

  Sapphire craned her neck and looked around me to see who was speaking to her. When she recognized who it was she spoke back.

  “Oh, hey, D.C., I didn’t know that was you over there.” She sat back and gave me a weird ass look.

  I looked down at the crumpled bills in my hand and addressed my brother.

  “Monk, y’all betta quit playin’ and break a bitch off. I know ya’ll got more than this.” I was holding up money. It looked like a few gees but I knew they had come up on ten times that amount.

  “Girl, quit trippin’. You know a nigga got you.” Monk pointed at a plastic bag that was resting in D.C.’s lap. “As soon as we get rid of this shit right here, I’ma hit you off again.”

  I leaned out the window to get a closer look at what was in the bag. What I saw made me smile. I settled back into my seat and opened my bag to stuff the loot inside. There was a dark-skinned boy in the back seat of the Mustang who I didn’t recognize. His thick wavy hair was cut short and neat, and his beady eyes were bloodshot red from the weed. He was watching me with lustful eyes, staring all in my grill and making a sistah kind of uneasy.

  I looked at him, then back at my brother and asked, “Monk, why your friend keep starin’ at me like he knows me or something?”

  D.C. passed Monk the L from which he took a toke, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. He turned his head, glancing at the dude in the back seat and then looked back at me with low eyelids. Without looking at the guy, Monk addressed him by name.

  “Yo, Cross, why you sweatin’ my sister nigga?” He was just teasing but Cross couldn’t tell.

  Caught off guard, Cross snapped out of his daze.

  “I ain’t sweatin’ her.” He lied. “I’m just trippin’ on how much she look like that broad Russell Simmons used to fuck wit’.” His voice was raspy as he spoke. I wasn’t fazed by Cross’s comment because I was used to hearing it regularly.

  Without responding to Cross’s remark, I asked Monk, “You gonna get at me tomorrow with the rest of that, right?”

  I noticed how Monk kept glancing up at the rearview as if he was expecting someone.

  “Ice,” Monk called me by the nickname he had given me when we were kids. Although it spelled the last three letters of my name, he said he called me that because I was so “cold hearted”! “Have a nigga ever shit on you before?” He was looking at me with a serious expression glued to his features. “It might not be tomorrow, but a nigga got you.”

  “Monk, I’m just sayin’—”

  “You just sayin’,” he cut me off. “You need the dough and yotty, yotty, yotty. Yeah, yeah, I know. Same song, different CD.” He then looked at me and smiled. “I. Got. You.”

  He offered me the blunt he was smoking, but I declined. He looked past me and held the cannabis-filled leaf up so that Sapphire could see it.

  “Phire, wanna hit this?”

  Sapphire leaned forward to see what she was being offered. Seeing the weed, she turned up her nose, “Nah, I’m straight.”

  She sat back and finished polishing off her meal.

  “Sapphire, when you gonna let a nigga holla at that?” D.C. asked from the passenger’s side with a smirk. His neatly twisted dreads framed his youthful, almost hairless face. D.C. and Monk were the same age so I regarded him as a little brother as well. Way too young for my girl.

  “Boy, pleeze,” I scolded D.C. “I done told y’all young ass niggas about that.”

  Monk and his hardheaded ass friends already knew that it wasn’t even going down like that.

  “I wasn’t talkin’ to you. I was talkin’ to Sapphire. You her mamma or something?” D.C. was smiling again.

  Just as Sapphire opened her mouth to respond, we all heard sirens off in the distance headed in our direction.

  “Yo, that’s our cue baby girl,” Monk said while once again looking into the rearview mirror. He looked over at me with those chinky eyes. The weed had his already slanted eyes so tight I could barely see the slits.

  At that instance, I noticed how much Monk looked like our father whom we hadn’t seen since our mother’s funeral years earlier. They shared the same high cheekbones, that thick curly hair and those thick ass eyelashes.

  “Make sure you try to get at me tomorrow,” I told him.

  He just nodded and put the Mustang in gear, then slowly drove off. As I watched the Mustang exit the lot and ride off into the night I said a silent prayer for my brother to stay safe.

  I finally pulled off and headed in the opposite direction of which my brother had gone. Thirty seconds later, Sapphire started with the interrogation, which I knew would come.

  “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I know that nigga D.C. is
out here wildin’. Now he hanging with your crazy ass brother?” Sapphire’s eyebrows were raised. “The two of them together don’t spell anything but “death wish” ’cause somebody gonna do something to them crazy ass niggas! Now how the hell did you end up in that retarded ass circle? What y’all got goin’ on?” Sapphire was staring at me with a knowing look. “And don’t sit up here and say y’all ain’t got nothing goin’ on, ’cause I just seen Monk break you off.”

  She pointed at my bag where I had stuffed the money Monk had given me.

  “You gonna holla at your girl or what?”

  I stopped at a red light, looked over at my friend, and wondered if I should’ve told her what I was up to or not. I really doubted if she could handle my scandal if I were to tell her, so I opted not to. Besides, I wasn’t quite ready to put her up on my game just yet so I kept my mouth shut. I figured silence would be the best defense. I looked back towards the street, turned up the volume on my stereo, and began singing along with the radio while ignoring Sapphire’s inquisitive glare.

  Sapphire reached over and turned the volume back down.

  “Oh, so it’s like that?”

  She was waiting for me to answer, but I continued to ignore her.

  “It’s aiight, you ain’t gotta tell me. You know the streets can’t keep no secrets. What’s done in the dark…” she let her voice trail off as she turned back toward the window and stared out. She already knew I would eventually tell her because she was my girl, but I was hesitant to make the revelation so soon. Sapphire was as square as a pool table and as green as the cloth on top of it, and I didn’t want her to start looking at me sideways once she found out. So, I stalled.

  I pushed a loose strand of hair out of my face where it had fallen and promptly tucked it behind my ear while letting a deep sigh escape my lips.