Welfare Wifeys

by K'wan

  “Hold on, I got Brasco on the other line,” a female voice said.

  Animal let out an aggravated sigh. If Brasco was calling him on a three-way then he had to be locked up somewhere for God only knew what. He had given them all specific instructions to be easy and not do anything stupid while he was in the town, but of course they didn’t listen. In his mind he could see the three knuckleheads sitting in a holding cell somewhere, pointing the finger at each other trying to figure out who was to blame for the latest mess they’d gotten themselves into. Regardless of who was at fault Animal would do what he could to get them out, but he had every intention of giving them hell before he did.

  “You still there?” the female voice came back.

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “What is it, big homey?” Brasco’s voice came over the line.

  “Y’all niggaz got the hardest heads in the world. What the fuck did I tell y’all when I dropped you off?”

  “Big homey, before you even go there let me run down to you what happened. Five minutes after you skirted Black and Brown rolled up on some bullshit,” Brasco told him. By Black and Brown Animal knew he was talking about the notorious detectives Alvarez and Brown. They had a hard-on for Animal that he couldn’t understand and had been subtle pains in his ass since he’d left New York.

  “What the fuck they want?” Animal asked.

  “Dudes was pressing us about some animals that escaped from the zoo. Of course we told them that we didn’t know what they were talking about, but they locked us up anyway.”

  Animal shook his head. “Some dudes are just poor ass losers. I know you and Nef are probably down at the Tombs or on your way, but where did they put the lil one?”

  Brasco laughed. “Me and Nef are the only ones twisted, the lil homey grew wings when they rolled.”

  “A’ight, don’t sweat it, as soon as y’all go before the judge I’ll have somebody waiting with the bail money.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, my nigga. They ain’t got shit on us but a little bit of weed, so we’ll probably be out tonight or tomorrow.”

  “We hope!” Nefertiti shouted in the background.

  “Nef shut the fuck up and go ask the C.O. if we’re gonna see the judge tonight or not,” Brasco barked. “My fault.” He turned his attention back to the phone. “All the extra theatrics are because we wouldn’t help their pussy asses. I just wanted to give you the heads-up about these cocksuckers pounding the turf.”

  “Good looking out. Is there anything I can do for y’all while you’re in there?” Animal asked.

  “Yeah, if we don’t make it to the party put a gum in something for ya nigga!” Brasco cracked up laughing.

  “What? Nigga, what the fuck you mean put a gum in it?” the female voice came back. “I’m burning up my phone bill making three-way calls for your ass and you got the nerve to be on there talking greasy? See that’s why I hate your scandalous ass, Brasco—”

  Animal hung up and left Brasco and his lady to it. It was disturbing to know that his cronies were locked in, but more disturbing was the fact that Brown and Alvarez were on his heels again so soon. He’d known that they were pissed about not being able to connect him to the massacre that had claimed the life of his lover China White and led to Tech’s execution, but he didn’t give a shit because they didn’t have anything on him. Still he knew that the detectives were the best at what they did and hadn’t intended on drawing their ire just yet, but he couldn’t let Rock Head slide. With the snitch being out from under police protection Animal figured he could kill him and no one would particularly care, but he had been wrong. Rock Head’s murder occurring around the time that he came back to New York for the promotional tour was all the persistent detectives needed to reopen old wounds and continue their witch hunt to catch Animal dirty. He was more than confident in his ability at stealth, but he was hardly foolish enough to think that the detectives wouldn’t be a problem. Alvarez and Brown were very poor losers and would go above and beyond the law to try and jam him. But this would not deter Animal from his course of action, only detour him a bit.

  “Everything cool?” Chip asked, noticing the worried expression on Animal’s face.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” Animal lied. Before Chip could dig deeper the studio phone rang.

  Chip answered it and listened intently to the caller on the other line. From the look on his face Animal knew it wasn’t good news. When Chip hung up he cut the music and hit the intercom. “It’s a wrap for right now, Soda. We’ll finish tomorrow.”

  “What the fuck, man?” Soda whined.

  “What’s good?” Animal asked.

  “That was Devil. Don B.’s been shot.”

  “Is he okay?” Animal asked.

  “Yeah, but he ain’t happy. He wants us all to meet him at Harlem Hospital for an emergency staff meeting.”

  Animal put his shirt back on and grabbed his gun. First the detectives were asking about him and now Don B. had gotten shot. It seemed like lately he and New York were a recipe for drama. But drama or not, he had come too far to let anyone or anything stray him from the path he had set for himself.

  “Looks like we got our work cut out for us, big homey,” Animal said to the air before following Chip and Soda from the studio.

  Chapter 20

  The sounds of Tweet’s “Southern Hummingbird” played softly on the portable CD player, while Malika sat on her tattered living-room couch staring out the window at the twinkling lights of the projects. She was going to bust out the Wii fit and do some yoga, but she was too drained so she decided to sip some tea and sort through the old mail she’d found in the kitchen drawer.

  “Bills, bills, bills,” Malika muttered as she tossed the envelopes into the trash can one by one. Halfway through the pile she came across an envelope addressed to her from the State of New York. It was a letter from the Welfare notifying her that she had to come in for recertification or risk her benefits being cut off. The deadline for her to come in had been two days prior, which explained why her EBT card no longer worked. She knew that she hadn’t gotten the letter out of the box, which meant it had to be Solomon’s handiwork. Just thinking about all the drama she would have to go through to recertify sent her pressure through the roof, and she was about to give Solomon’s little ass hell.

  Solomon almost jumped out of his skin when Malika stormed into his room unannounced. He was lying across the bed with his hand in his pants and watching something on his laptop that he didn’t want his mother to see.

  “Don’t you know how to knock?” Solomon asked, flipping the screen closed.

  “I pay the bills in here so I don’t have to knock. Solomon, when did this letter come?” She tossed the envelope on the bed.

  “I don’t know,” Solomon said and cut on his Xbox.

  “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know? You got it out of the box didn’t you?”

  “I guess.” He shrugged and went about the task of loading Madden X. Malika stepped between Solomon and the television, blocking his view. “What’s your problem, Ma?”

  “My problem is that your irresponsible ass got our food stamps cut off because you didn’t give me this letter. Now I gotta go uptown and sort all this shit out tomorrow.”

  Solomon looked at her quizzically. “So what’s the big deal? You should be a pro at this by now.”

  Malika reached down and ripped the wires of the Xbox from the television.

  Solomon bolted upright. “Chill before you break my game!”

  “You don’t own shit because you don’t buy shit in here, Solomon. Your attitude has been really twisted lately and I don’t like it.”

  “I ain’t got no attitude, Ma. You the one acting like a crazy woman in front of my friends.” Solomon folded his arms.

  “Who, that degenerate ass Scar? Boy, you can’t be serious. And you know damn well that the reason I went in is because I told you not to be posted up in front of the building with Scar and them.”
r />   “I wasn’t chilling with Scar. I was with Jay.”

  Malika laughed. “As if his ass is still innocent little Jay. I don’t know why you and Jay can’t just hang out here and play video games like you used to instead of getting caught up in these projects.”

  “Ma, you can only play video games for so long. Nobody wants to be stuck in the house all day long. You don’t let me go outside the hood, and when I go in front of the building to get some air you scream on me. I can’t win for losing.”

  Malika took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. “Solomon, why can’t you understand that I’m trying to keep you out of harm’s way? Every time you turn around somebody is either getting locked up or killed messing around in the streets, it seems like you can’t turn on the news these days without seeing a grieving parent. A mother’s worst fear is losing their child to this bullshit and I’m trying to spare you that.”

  Solomon sat up and folded his arms. “Come on, Ma, I know what time it is on the streets, that’s why I don’t mess around with the stuff Scar and those guys are into. Just because you may see me with them doesn’t mean that I’m out there doing what they do.”

  “That may be, Solomon, but the police aren’t gonna care if they swoop down on you. It won’t matter if they’re Scar’s, Jay’s, or your drugs, the police will divide them among the three of you and take all of your asses in.”

  “Not me. If the police roll on the spot I’m getting up outta there,” Solomon said as if he had it all figured out.

  “Boy, are you out of your damned mind? Don’t even run from the police, all that will do is give them a reason to shoot you.”

  Solomon waved her off. “Ma, you don’t know what’s up out there.”

  “Little boy, I’ve probably forgotten more than you will ever learn. I became a mother when I was only a few years older than you are now when I found out that I was pregnant with you. During my pregnancy and after I have always been the rock that holds this family together, so you can’t tell me anything about knowing what’s up out there in the world, it’s you who hasn’t got a clue.”

  “I’m good, Mommy. I can take care of myself.”

  “Solomon, you can barely wipe your ass let alone survive out on your own. Stop being a smart ass and listen to what I’m telling you,” Malika said.

  “Okay, Ma.” Solomon went back to his video game.

  Malika stared at her son for a long time and said nothing. She could see that same determined look in his eyes that Suede had had whenever he was plotting and this is what scared her. Malika had bent over backward to make sure that her son was raised right, but for as good of a mother as she might’ve strived to be she was flawed because she was a woman and therefore it was impossible for her to really teach him how to be a man. It was times like those when she wished that she had had someone in her life to provide a positive example of manhood for Solomon, but she didn’t, so until the situation changed she would have to wear both hats.

  Malika got up off the bed and headed for the door. “The leftovers from dinner are in the microwave. I’ve got my key so don’t go to the door.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked, as if he paid bills in the house.

  “Out,” she said over her shoulder before slamming his bedroom door.

  Malika welcomed the cool air that ran across her face when she came out of the building. She loved the tranquility of her cozy little apartment but sometimes it felt like the walls were closing in on her, especially when she was having problems with Solomon, which seemed to be more and more frequent the older he got. Sometimes he stressed her so bad that she wanted to put her foot in his ass, but the guilt she carried for the fact that he was growing up fatherless stayed her anger.

  Solomon, like most kids, didn’t ask to be born but God had saw fit to bring him into the world anyhow. As parents they had a moral obligation to the children but not everyone held up their end of the bargain, which was the case with Suede. When things got bad in the house she sometimes questioned her decision to have a child so young, but every time she looked at him the doubt evaporated. She loved Solomon more than anything and would go above and beyond to protect him, which is what Scar and his little crew needed to get into their ignorant little heads.

  “Just breathe, Malika,” she told herself. She took stock of her surroundings and realized that she had walked all the way to 109th Street. She was now not only aggravated and confused, but almost a half mile away from the apartment she was in no rush to get back to. For as much as she loved Solomon she couldn’t deal with him at that moment. She spent all of her time taking care of him and that night she wanted to be taken care of. After digging a quarter out of her pocket she found a pay phone and called Teddy.

  Solomon gave Malika about a fifteen-minute head start before slipping into his jacket and heading for the door. He stopped in front of the mirror to give himself the once-over before slipping out the door. He knew his mother would try and kill him if she found out that he’d gone out after dark which is why he had no intentions of getting caught.

  By the time Solomon made it from the elevator to the lobby door his whole demeanor had changed. His happy schoolboy jaunt slowed to a bop and a scowl melted over his face. The drop in the temperature had sent most people indoors, but the few who made their lives in the courtyard remained. Nodding to a few heads he knew Solomon ambled from the building over to the bench where Lloyd and Jay were applying their trade.

  “Oh, shit, my nigga ‘Love LockDown,’ ” Lloyd ribbed Solomon as soon as he walked up. He was sitting on the backrest of the bench passing something to an older guy that Solomon had seen around.

  “What’s good, son?” Solomon gave Lloyd dap and then Jay.

  “Sol, ya moms is gonna flip if she catch you out here.” Jay looked around nervously as if Malika would spring from the bushes at any moment.

  “Nah, she gone for a while.” Solomon took a seat on the bench next to Jay. “What’s good wit y’all fools?”

  “Out here chasing a dollar. Fuck is good wit you?” Lloyd asked in an accusatory tone as he twirled a cigar back and forth between his fingers.

  “You know how I keep it,” Solomon said in a hip tone that made Lloyd scoff.

  “Yeah, which is why I’m trying to figure out what you’re doing out here after the streetlights have come on?”

  “Come on, B, stop trying to play me like I’m one of the lil niggaz from behind the center or something,” Solomon said. It always irritated him when the older heads made fun of his mother’s tight yoke on him, but Lloyd especially.

  “Don’t wet that, Sol, Lloyd is just playing,” Jay said in an attempt to ease the discomfort he knew his friend was feeling.

  Lloyd just scoffed and proceeded to split the cigar down the middle. “So where’d ya moms go to have you feeling frog enough to be out here hanging with the scumbags?”

  “I don’t know.” Solomon shrugged. “She broke out on some fake mad shit a lil while ago. She’s probably up the block at Jada’s or something.”

  “Yo, that is one bad bitch!” Jay said excitedly.

  “Yeah and she’s out of your league, lil stud,” Lloyd said, shooting him down.

  “The way I hear it she’s outta anybody’s league unless it’s Cutty’s,” Solomon added his two cents.

  “See,” Lloyd began as he lit the blunt he’d expertly rolled, “that’s the problem with y’all cats, you always got ya mouth in grown folks’ business and don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Man, everybody knows Jada is Cutty’s BM and the nigga is straight crazy over her,” Jay said.

  “That ain’t the word on the street.” Lloyd exhaled a fog of smoke into Jay’s face. “Cutty got a bitch uptown that he’s claiming as his wife so Jada is up for the highest bidder. My nigga Scar been sizing that up for a minute.” Lloyd handed the blunt to Jay. The boy tried to hit the weed like a champ and damn near choked to death.

  Solomon looked at Lloyd quizzically. “Jada is a ser
ious ass broad and only fucks wit boss cats, if anything I’d think she’d be trying to set it out to Prince if anybody.”

  “Prince ain’t the boss of shit!” Lloyd said sharply. “All that nigga does is go between us and the man holding the yay. Solomon, you see for yourself every time you come out here it’s us on the money. This hood and all the money that passes through it belongs to us. You better ask ya man, shorty.”

  “He ain’t lying,” Jay said and pulled a knot of money out of his pocket to prove it. “We be getting stupid paper outta these buildings, Sol.” He waved the money proudly. The wad was money from the drug package, not Jay’s, but Solomon was naïve enough to be enticed.

  Jay tried to pass the blunt to Solomon but he declined. “I’m good.”

  Lloyd laughed. “Relax, it’s only some green. What, you think we gonna give you dust or something on the sneak?” He tried to loosen him up but Solomon was still hesitant. “Jay, I told you this nigga was a square.”

  Solomon sat on the bench feeling like every set of eyes in the entire projects were focused on him. In the back of his mind he could hear his mother giving him a speech about gateway drugs, but it was drowned out by the mocking stare he was getting from Lloyd and his desire to belong. “Fuck it,” Solomon said and took the weed.

  Malika wasn’t sure how it had happened but she ended up at Teddy’s apartment in the Bronx. She had called him just to shoot the breeze and try to burn off some steam before she went back home, but the more she talked the more she opened up about what was going on with her. The next thing she knew she was crying and Teddy was pulling up to the corner in his Durango. They rode around for a while and talked while they sipped vodka and smoked green. She hadn’t even realized that they’d left Manhattan until Teddy was parking the truck on 184th and Valentine. It was a tastefully decorated studio with a big screen television and a futon. He’d claimed he only needed five minutes to grab his wallet and change his jacket, but that five minutes turned into a half hour because TV1 was showing Sparkle and it was both their favorites.