Dope Girl: The Beginning

by Sa'id Salaam

  Tywanna’s nap lasted all the way to the New Jersey Turnpike. Amazingly, she picked up the conversation at the exact point she dozed off at. She switched topics fluidly quoting facts and stats along the way. The girl was as sharp as a tack.

  Once they crossed the Iconic George Washington Bridge Cam called his father. He repeated the directions to Tywanna as he got them and she mentally wrote them down.

  “Turn right,” Tywanna recalled as they crossed over the 171st Street Bridge into the Bronx. She navigated them to a basketball court on University Avenue.

  “That him?” she asked of the lone man seated on the bench smoking a menthol.

  “Think so,” Cam replied straining to see the man in the darkened court. He racked a round into his pistol and conceled it in the small of his back. A deep breath later, he opened the door and stepped from the car.

  Cameron senior stood up as he watched his son approach. His murderous disposition eased with every step the man took towards him as he came into view.

  “Get the fuck outta here!” Senior laughed heartily as his look-a-like son neared. “A-yo B, you look just like me! I was about to wet your ass!”

  Cam senior lifted his shirt to reveal the handle of a large automatic to prove his claim.

  “Damn we do look alike,” Cam acknowledged as he looked the man up and down.

  The two killers didn’t embrace, shed tears and rock back and forth. Instead, they slapped five and took a seat on the bench. The conversation built slowly but was at full boil as they got to know each other. It was two full hours when Tywanna urgently broke up the revelry.

  “I gotta pee!” she announce from the car.

  “A-yo, who that?” Senior asked curiously.

  “Your granddaughter. Her name is Tywanna too.”

  Chapter 11

  Deidra got up early as was her habit and set off into her tiny kitchen to cook. She almost walked by the stranger sleeping on the sofa. Sleepovers were something that didn’t occur in the Forrest household so she rushed into her sons room to investigate.

  “Cameron!” she whispered urgently trying to wake her son but not the guest.

  “A-yo, chill ma, I’m sleep,” senior grumbled and turned his back.

  “Cameron Forrest! Who is that man sleeping on the sofa?" She demanded still in a whisper.

  “Who? Oh, that’s your grandson. Now let me sleep!” he pleaded, and pulled the blanket over his head.

  “My what?Grandson!” Deidra exclaimed.

  “Ma!” Senior groaned painfully, sending his mother away to investigate on her own.

  Grandma Deidra tipped back into the living room and hovered over the sleeping man. He shared their caramel completion as well as course brown hair, but his back was to her preventing her from seeing his face.

  That’s how Cam found the woman an hour later when he finally awoke. He rolled over to find the pretty elderly lady staring down at him.

  “Oh my god! You are my grandson!” she screamed when she finally got a good look at him. “You look just you’re your father, and my late husband!”

  “Morning ma’am,” Cam smiled in his best southern hospitality. “We just came up last night.”

  “We?”Deidra asked curiously and looked around the room.

  On cue, Tywanna emerged from the sacred spare bedroom. The room once belonged to Killa and was maintained just as he’d left it years ago.

  “Well hello young lady, and who are you?” Deidra gushed at the pretty girl.

  For a reply Tywanna rushed behind Cameron for protection. He was the only one in her life that she trusted, for now anyway.

  “This is Tywanna, my daughter,” Cam introduced. “Say hey Tywanna.”

  “Hey,” Tywanna said, not offering anymore.

  “Oh my, I have a granddaughter too!” she exclaimed and rushed over to hug the girl.

  She frowned slightly at the smell coming from the girl as she squeezed her. Tywanna shot a wide eyed glance at Cam who nodded his approval.

  “Hey grandma,” Tywanna sang now returning the hug and giving grandma a nostril full of underarm funk.

  “Let me fix you guys some breakfast! You like cream of wheat?” Deidra offered.

  “Who?” Cam and Tywanna asked together. “What’s that? Do you have grits?"

  “Who?” Deidra asked, “What the heck is a grit? Anyway come on in here and help grandma cook.”

  Deidra was mildly surprised that the girl was near useless in the kitchen. She had once helped her grandmother cook as a young girl but that was a distant memory now.

  Nowadays, all teenage girls were good for one thing- shaking their asses and getting knocked up. She was pleased at how quickly the girl picked up on instructions.Together they whipped up scrambled eggs, biscuits and salmon patties for the two Cameron’s.

  “After we eat, take a shower, get dressed and you can come with me.” Deidra offered as they sat down to eat. She didn’t have anywhere specific to go but used the excuse to get the girl to bathe.

  Junior and senior scarfed down their meals and resumed their intense conversation.

  Tywanna looked around the cramped, yet well stocked bathroom in awe. Grandma was an absolute Diva and had all the hygiene and beauty products to prove it. She reached onto the tub and turned the water on and basked in the warm steam filling the bathroom.

  Back in Longs Mississippi the gas had been turned off shortly after her grandparents passed. This would be the first hot bath since then. She peeled off the dingy jeans that she had worn for just under a week. She wasn’t immune to her smell, just use to it. Next came the musty shirt and bra followed by soiled panties.

  Tywanna giggled from the feel of hot water hitting her body. She lathered up a plush wash cloth with one of the fruity concoctions on the shelf and began to wash. Salon quality shampoo and conditioner degreased her matted, oily hair. Deidra stuck her head in the door and couldn’t believe her eyes.

  “Girl you stay under that water until I come back!” She demanded. She reached under the sink and put on the thick yellow rubber gloves she used to clean, and scooped up the girl’s crusty clothes. A nose full of female funk changed her mind about washing them, and in the trash they went; the trash compacter down the hall that is.

  Deidra rushed over to the dollar store to pick up some clothing for the girl. Ordinarily she would have turned her nose up at the store, this was an emergency. The girl didn’t have a stitch of clothes with her. Their sudden appearance and stark baggage set off alarms in the wise woman’s head, but she was wise enough to wait to be told. She had already raised two goons, so she knew the signs.

  Grandma correctly guessed the sizes and put the cheap bra and panty sets in the cheap basket. Next, a few of the sweat suits the store offered along with socks and cheap sneakers. She would take the girl down 7th Ave when time permitted, but this would have to do for now. Little did she know that it would be six more months before she’d get the girl all toherself.

  Tywanna obeyed and was still under the steaming shower when Deidra returned a half hour later. She was so excited about the new clothes she only half dried herself off before putting them on. As she admired the cheap sweat suit, tears began to trickle down her clean face. These were the first new clothes to touch her body in ten years.

  Chapter 12

  Meanwhile father and son were getting along famously. Cameron senior had an easy solution to his problems with Chris.

  "Let me go down there and kill them all,” he offered as casually as offering a drink of water.

  “Just like that huh?” Cam laughed assuming he wasn’t serious. What he had yet to learn is that Cameron Forrest senior was as serious as a heart attack, and just as deadly. He never joked about murder.

  “Just like that yo,” he replied.” Aight, so what about the girl, what are you gonna do with her? I know you ain’t taking her on this mission.

  “Remember what you told me last night? How you wished you knew about me so you could have raised me? Were you serious or did y
ou just say that shit because it sounded good?”

  “Both!” Senior shot back. “It did sound good. Like some shit off a greeting card, but yeah, I meant it.”

  “Well, take care of her then. Raise her," Cam pleaded. “She can’t come with me and she has no other family.”

  “The way your grandmother took to her I doubt you could get her back anyway.”

  “Well until then, I plan to teach her everything I know,” Cam vowed.

  ******

  “Tywanna, wake up Tywanna,” Cam whispered as he shook the girl awake.

  “Yes daddy?” She frowned at the interruption of her sleep.

  He knew his grandmother might blow a fuse if she figured out what was going on so he waited until the wee hours of the morning to begin her training. Thanks to his father he had all the supplies the curriculum called for. Tonight was marijuana 101.

  “Parsley?Oregano? Um…,” Tywanna guessed at the mound of greenery her father placed in front of her. “Turnip!No, um collards!”

  “No, no, no and no,” Cam laughed shaking his head. “This is marijuana. Also known as weed, trees, loud pack, herb, organga just to name a few. It’s probably the easiest and safest drug to sell. Sell, not use. Never use drugs you hear me?”

  “Yes sir,” she nodded urgently to match his tone.

  Today’s lesson was weighing and bagging. They divided up the one pound package into various dominations. Every lesson was followed by an immediate quiz. The girl passed everyone.

  "An ounce, quarter, half,” she replied each time he held up a bag, guessing the weight correctly each time.

  Next, he’d taught her to weigh by sight and she quickly mastered that as well. The girl picked up instantly, she was a natural. A natural born hustla.

  A week after they’d beganshe spoke marijuana fluently, and it was time to move on. It was time she became bilingual.

  “Eww! It’s bitter!” Tywanna protested and spit the taste from her mouth. “Why you tell me to taste that? My tongue is numb daddy!”

  "That’s because the coke is top shelf, fish scale," he explained. "Look at it. Remember the taste, the feel, the texture. Only good coke can do that."

  To further illustrate, he placed out several batches of blow to teach her how to differentiate bullshit from the good stuff. It took a week before she could spot the best of the bunch no matter what variable Cam would throw in.

  Even when he switched different types of cut, she was able to tell by taste what he used. B-12, lactose, baking soda, nothing got by her.

  “Now, it’s time to teach you how to cook,” Cam stated once she mastered weighing by sight.

  “Grits?!” She cheered enthusiastically. They both had been missing their down south staple. These damn Yankees had them eating bagels and cream cheese for breakfast.

  “No not grits, I wish. It’s time for you to learn to cook crack!” He replied.

  Tywanna watched curiously as Cam emptied the contents of a baby food jar and rinsed it out. Oddly, she felt some kind of way watching him throw away perfectly good food. She had been able to eat her full meals over the last few weeks, but hunger was something you never forgot. The pain never left you no matter how far you went in life. Some of the most successful people on the planet had shared in the history of deprivation.

  “Take an ounce out of that bag and hand it to me,” Cam said testing the girl.

  “Ain’t but an ounce,” Tywanna replied, passing it as he fought hard not to smile.

  “Put it in the jar with seven grams of baking soda,” he directed. “Mix it up and add water.”

  Tywanna not only followed his directions, she memorized them including the ratios. When her adopted father pulled the surgical mask over his face she did the same.

  “I done seen too many niggas fall off and start smoking this shit ‘cause they was constantly inhaling the vapors while cooking it up,” Cam explained. He was right too.Many king- pins had turned into junkies behind breathing this shit.

  Even with the mask on the putrid stench of the crack could be smelled as it bubbled in the jar. Once it was where it needed to be he directed Tywanna to remove it from the heat and cool it with cold water. She placed it on a paper towel to let it dry.

  “I’m bugging,” Cameron senior announced as the aroma waffled into his nose. The smell roused him from a deep sleep and stood him up.

  The man had developed the bad habit of smoking crack laced cigarettes referred to as ‘woolies’ when he was diagnosed with cancer. He did it mainly to speed up the process as dying slow held no appeal for him. He had been a goon his whole life and wanted to go out in a blaze of glory like all the men he’d sent off into the thereafter.

  He quit the second his son and granddaughter arrived. Nothing can subdue a bad habit better than pride, and Cameron senior was a proud man.

  “Man I coulda sworn I smelled…” Senior said stopping in mid-sentence as he spotted the crack cookie cooling on the counter.

  “Just showing lil’ mama how to cook up,” Cam explained.

  “I did it myself grandpa!” Tywanna cheered holding the rock up for inspection.

  “Good Job,” He replied before turning to his son. “If you plan on pumping that around here make sure to bring a hammer.”

  “I already know,” Cam replied wearily. He had seen a flash of lust in his father’s eye when he first seen the dope but it had disappeared.

  “Sell point five twenties and kill all competition," senior advised as he turned to leave. “I’m going back to bed.”

  “Night grandpa,” Tywanna called after him. “Daddy, what’s a hammer?”

  “You’ll see, that‘s tomorrow’s lesson. We ‘bout to hit the block,” Cam advised.

  ******

  “Like this daddy?” Tywanna asked, as she gingerly sliced through a large piece of crack.

  “Not bad,” Cam nodded. She was getting the hang of cutting up slabs for retail sales.

  Following his father’s advice, he’d cut fifty six half grams into twenties. Back home he could have cut them in half again for that same twenty, then again once more, had they been in Mississippi.

  The projects like any of the projects had a booming drug trade. Cam watched for a second and determined the flow of traffic coming up from theUniversity through one of the entrance ways.

  “This is what we call short stopping,” Cam said as he led Tywanna midway through the street and the courtyard. He had effectively cut off all incoming sales from that route. Tywanna was about to get two lessons, short stopping and what it brings.

  From their position, they sold the ounce they’d bagged up in a few minutes. A few minutes later a group of teenagers came around the corner.

  “And this is what happens when you step on toes,” Cam said pulling the hammer he had conceled in the small of his back.

  “Told yall!”One of the boys said explaining why their sales abruptly stopped. He brandishedthe small chrome 380 in his hand as they approached.

  “Ayo what the fuck?” Their obvious leader barked as they neared.

  He was the cute, curly headed boy Tywanna had seen out the window a few times. She heard people calling him Tay which was short for Tayvon. Even now with the snarl on his face and pistol in hand he was still cute. Too bad her daddy was about to murder him. Sucks when that happens.

  Her beauty didn’t go un-noticed by him either. Cam laughed at the pause he made when he saw Tywanna. It was more than enough time to have killed him if he wanted to.

  “My bad shawty, my pops Cameron said it was cool,” Cameron offered as he mentally debated which order to kill the kids in.

  “Oh shit! That’s Mr. Forrest’s people!” The one called Pistol Pete exclaimed when he saw the family resemblance.

  He was too young to fully grasp why Cam senior was so feared around the hood. It was well established that him or his family was not to be fucked with. What Pete and his generation did know was that the Forrest family produced the killer called Killa. That was more than enough. />
  “A-yo we got mad respect for yo’ peeps, but still fam!” Tay pleaded as he tried to keep his eyes on the man with the gun but the girl had him stuck.

  “My bad yo’, next time just give me a little spot to pump from. I’ll break yall off,” Cam offered showing his daughter another aspect of the game.

  After that, they leased a bench and sold a few rocks and bags of weed. This wasn’t about the money, it too was a lesson.

  Cam could tell that all the kids out on the block were working for themselves. There was no structure or order. A real dope boy could move in, organize and make a killing. A real dope boy or girl.

  Chapter 13

  It wasn’t long before grandpa decided to get in on the act. He too had a lot he could teach the girl. Besides, every woman needed to learn how to protect herself in this sick society.

  Since Cam kept Tywanna out all night he took the morning sessions. Only problem was, this was when they both slept.

  “Grandpa!!!” Tywanna whined as senior roused her from her sleep.

  “Shhh girl, come on!” he demanded in a whisper hoping not to wake his son. “Get up and get dressed.”

  Tywanna sluggishly responded and got up out of the bed. Since hygiene still wasn’t too high on her priorities she slid into the sweat suit from the day before. Her great-grandmother wanted to take her shopping but had yet to get the girl to herself. Plus the poor child who was used to nothing was completely satisfied with the baggy sweats. Cameron senior led her up the gravel covered roof tops to begin their first lesson.

  “Do you know how to fight?” He questioned sternly.

  “Yessir!” She replied confidently, “been fighting my whole life.”

  “Let’s see then,” he said and threw a straight jab at her face.

  “Hey!” Tywanna yelled as she got popped in the mouth.

  “Thought you said you could fight! Why didn’t you block it, or at least duck?” grandpa asked as he shot another straight right.