Ghetto Girls

by Anthony Whyte

  “Coco, I’m telling you this once and for all. Watch your back around those so-called friends.”

  “Okay. I heard you already, yo.”

  “An’ try not to get thumped in your nose anymore, okay?” Bebop smiled.

  “Goodnight!” Coco said.

  “Coco, you should come to church with us Sunday. Try.”

  “See ya.”

  “Say you’ll try,” Bebop said.

  “Okay, I’ll try. Now see ya. I gotta go to school in the morn.” Coco was through the apartment door. She pushed the cart in front of her. It was dark. She stumbled as she searched for the light switch, and woke her mother.

  “Coco, is that you? What took you so long?” She spoke with that telltale slur.

  Coco studied her mother. She must have been prettier in her youth. Right now she looked awful.

  “It was a lot of clothes, mom,” Coco said.

  Mrs. Harvey arose from the sofa, which retained her form long after she stood. She turned, searched, and suddenly seemed to panic. Then she felt the bottle. It was still there.

  Coco left for the kitchen. She sat on the right side of the window and looked down. It’s calculus tomorrow, she thought. Coco pulled her black boots off and rested both feet on the lead-lined radiator. It was cold to her touch. She flexed her toes and watched as night fell.

  The pipe-fiends, rats, and other night creatures now moved against their prey. They roamed the tiny park. Its benches provided space for the weary, as well as those on the prowl. Those benches were the rest stop for the ones who overdosed or had made their last score.

  Coco gazed out the window at a view which bore the statistics on shoot-outs, drug overdoses and suicides. But those were regular re-runs. Calculus was important now. Thank God for libraries, she thought, and drifted off to sleep.

  Her mother’s raging voice awoke Coco.

  “Git up and go to bed, child. Who are you s’pose to be anyway, the night watchman? Cuz if you is, you’re sleeping on the job. So you might as well take your sleepy ass to its rest. Hear me, Coco?”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m hearing you. So does everyone else on the street.”

  “Just go to your bed. Always wit’ the smart mouth, like your dirty, singin’, travelin’ wreck of a father.”

  “Okay, I’m gone.”

  Coco stood up and the window displayed its scenery. It had not changed too much. The crack-heads were still stalking. The fiends were crawling, picking up anything that reflected light from the ground. The dogs were barking loudly, and the rats scampered to their holes for concealment while the night sky covered it all.

  “Coco, get away from the window. Your duties for the night are over. You’re dismissed,” Mrs. Harvey said.

  “Ma, I’ll go, but promise me you won’t go downstairs. You don’t need anything else. I mean—”

  “Coco, go to bed,” her mother said sternly. “And stop worrying ‘bout me so much.”

  Coco had been looking at her mother’s shadow, formed by the light from the window. Crack and alcohol had cooked the meat off her bones. Her appearance was disheveled from the abuse her body had taken. Hardly any liquor was left in the bottle her mother was clutching under her arm as if her life depended on it. Coco walked past the shell of her mother and headed for the bathroom.

  FIVE

  Deedee lay awake, staring at the bright sunshine streaming through the window. She was turned to the side, her hands clasped beneath her knees, drawn up to her chest. She watched as the sun’s rays brought a flight of birds into focus. Their wings flapped as they sat on the windowsill, feeding on breadcrumbs that she had put there.

  She observed that the large birds pounced on the food and devoured it before the smaller birds had a chance. The smaller birds hovered above the feeding flock, afraid to participate. Deedee was tempted to scare the large birds off, throw some crumbs to the smaller ones. She would have done it on any other day. Today she rested her head against the soft pillows, and pulled the cover up so she wouldn’t see the birds. Yet the rays still shined through.

  Finally she got up and went to the kitchen. Deedee poured a glass of juice, spilling some on the white tabletop. Then she saw the two coffee cups and noticed Sophia sitting there.

  “Sophia, I didn’t see you. I’m sorry. Uncle E. is here also?”

  “Yes. He’s upstairs, I think. He was about to make breakfast, but I guess I’ll have to do it.”

  “You’re not a bad cook,” Deedee teased. “But I’m not really hungry.”

  “Well, how about some shopping, you know?” Sophia asked with a wink.

  “Aren’t you working today?” Deedee was a little excited at the new suggestion.

  “No, I’m off today, honey. I have time,” Sophia said with a smile.

  “Y’all need money for shopping?” Eric announced his presence. He had been standing, unnoticed. Deedee looked rested, he thought. “How much?” He asked, barging into the conversation at exactly the right time.

  “Well, ten thousand dollars would be nice, wouldn’t you say, Dee?” Deedee turned and looked at both of them. They looked as if they were waiting for the punch line. Oh what the hell, I’ll play along, she decided. Deedee shook her head from side to side and snapped her fingers.

  “You know, I could handle that very well.” The words tumbled out. They were meant to be spontaneous, but the pause lasted longer than she intended. It was like a bad joke. She felt her timing was off. “So, who’s gonna do breakfast between y’all?” Deedee asked as she seized the moment to patch things up.

  “Well, Eric had promised to earlier,” Sophia said with a smile.

  “Nah, nah. It ain’t going down like that.” Eric smiled and his eyes widened as he turned to look at Sophia. “Sophia,” he said with a big grin, “you owe me.”

  “Alright,” Sophia sighed. “But this will be all the cooking I do today.” She returned his smile.

  “Okay,” Deedee said. “Why don’t we all eat out?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Eric said.

  “Sophia?” Both niece and uncle asked at the same time.

  “Sure, sure,” Sophia said.

  “You guys go ahead. I’ll see you on the outside,” Deedee said.

  “Uh-huh, we’re not going for that,” her uncle said, smiling. “We know you’re gonna lock yourself in the room. Oh, no. You’re coming right now.”

  “No, I won’t be long. I’m just gonna get a coat. I promise.”

  “Its pretty warm outside, honey,” Eric said. He reached out to hold her, but she resisted, twisting her arms free of his hands.

  “Get your coat, Dee,” Sophia said. “Maybe I should get one while we’re downtown. Yeah! And I saw this nice Versace the other day. Hmm, hmm,” she said. Deedee smiled and ran upstairs.

  Sophia and Eric went outside. It was quite warm. The humidity was working its way slowly up the scale. The sun’s brightness made the morning glow with life. Eric, with the press of a switch, disarmed the car alarm and unlocked the doors to the Range Rover. They got in and waited for Deedee, listening to the radio.

  “How much are we getting?” Sophia asked.

  “We?” Eric asked.

  “Stop being such a cheapo.”

  “Cheapo?”

  “Yes. Stop being a cheapo. Tell me how much we’re getting.”

  “Alright, alright. I’ll tell you after breakfast,” he said.

  They waited in the car, listening to the radio, teasing and laughing at each other. Deedee emerged from the front door. She locked it and turned on the alarm. As she walked toward the car, they both noticed that instead of her usual fitted jeans and ribbed blouse, she was wearing a pink, baggy, cotton warm-up suit and a maroon spring coat. They looked at each other.

  “Let her be,” Sophia said then she yelled out the window. “C’mon girl, hurry. I’m starved.”

  Deedee quickened her step. Her plain white tennis shoes, moving with matching socks, emphasized her pace. She slid through the open door and the vehicle seem
ed cramped and crowded to her. She lowered the window.

  “I’m ready,” she announced with a sigh of relief.

  “For food? Where?” Eric asked.

  “Let’s go to the pancake house on Lex,” Deedee suggested.

  “That sounds delicious,” Sophia said.

  The vehicle rolled toward Main Street. Eric made a right and hit the expressway. “I brought these for the trip,” Deedee said handing out breakfast bars to Eric and Sophia. Sophia and Deedee closed their eyelids immediately after downing the breakfast bar. Forty five minutes later they awoke and found themselves on Lexington Avenue. Eric was pulling easily into a parking spot. Sophia awoke, blinked and watched as Deedee alighted from the Range.

  She put her hands in her coat pockets. She completed her disguise by donning a white Colorado Rockies baseball cap worn backwards. While Deedee and Sophia were seated in the buzzing waffle house, Eric remained outside, conversing on his cellular.

  “Good morning. You ladies ready to order?” A smiling waiter greeted. “Something to drink maybe?”

  “Well—”

  “I’ll have hot chocolate with whipped cream,” Deedee buzzed.

  “And two regular coffees. Thanks,” Sophia added. “Let me go get that guy. Cause if we let him, we’ll eat right through his conversation. Music business,” Sophia said as she left the table. She returned a few lonely minutes later with Eric.

  “Hey, don’t you like the hot chocolate? You’re looking sad, girl.” Eric had been standing next to her for a while. Deedee had been unaware of this. She was buried too deep into her thought to even have noticed.

  “No, it’s alright. I was just thinking.” She felt compelled to explain her mood. Sophia had been at times like a mother to her. Now she treated her as a friend. The reason was clear. Deedee did not want to start thinking too much about it.

  “Well, think of how you’re gonna be spending five thousand dollars, baby.” Sophia said and then winked.

  “Five thousand dollars?” Eric repeated incredulously. “Where you gonna get all that dough from?”

  “Well, how much then?” Sophia asked with mock annoyance. “I thought you said…”

  “Okay,” Eric said.

  “We settled on…” Sophia pouted. Deedee stared. Eric fumbled for a number. Then, finally, he turned to Deedee.

  “Dee, what do you think? Five G’s, or not?”

  It made Deedee smile, just knowing she would have five thousand dollars to spend. Wow, she thought, I could shop for days, non-stop.

  “Well, five sounds all right, but I was looking forward to the ten grand,” she joked. Her joke made her uncle smile. He was happy that Sophia had concocted this little scheme, and that it had brought a smile to his niece’s face.

  Deedee reflected. The humor was sick, but a five-thousand-dollar shopping spree sounded good. It probably would bring a smile to anyone’s face. But she knew not even ten thousand dollars would erase the bitter and ugly experience, and her memories of the cruelest people she’d ever met.

  “What are you having, Dee?” Eric asked attentively.

  The waiter and Sophia also looked concerned. What are they staring at, she wondered?

  “Oh, I’ll have two German pancakes, and eggs. Sunny side up.”

  “Anything to drink?” the well-mannered waiter asked.

  “Yeah. We’ll all have apple juice,” Eric said. His cellular phone rang, and he sprang out of his chair. He left the table and headed outside, away from the other patrons.

  “Yeah, Eric, this is Busta. How’re you?” The caller asked.

  “I’m fine. I need a major hit. We gotta talk.”

  “Well, let’s meet at Geez at about seven. Eric, I’ve got these crazy nice girls you gotta hear. And as a matter of fact, they’re all dimes.”

  “That’s fine,” Eric said. “See you then.”

  He folded the black instrument and shoved it into a front pocket of his jeans.

  “Alright,” he announced, back at the table.

  “What did she want?” Sophia teased.

  “It wasn’t her,” Eric said. “It was Busta. Got to meet with him later. But first we’re gonna eat, and then spend some money.”

  The meal arrived and they all settled into breakfast. Deedee was afraid she wouldn’t be able to stomach the food, but German pancakes were her favorite. After one bite, she succumbed to the pleasures of the meal.

  After a hearty breakfast, Deedee and Sophia took Eric on a shopping extravaganza that really cost him over ten thousand dollars. He also had to carry nearly all of the shopping bags. When the clothes became too much to carry, they returned to the parking lot and stowed the bags in the Range Rover.

  “Thank you, uncle,” Deedee said and planted a kiss on Eric’s sweating cheeks.

  “You are more than welcome,” he said, returning the kiss.

  “And thanks, Sophia. I love your style.”

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart.” She opened her arms. Deedee lunged forward for the hug. “Movie, anyone?” Sophia asked as Eric started the car.

  “How about dinner and a movie?” Deedee suggested.

  “Well...” Eric looked at his watch. “Why don’t the both of you go ahead and I’ll catch up to you later?”

  “You tired of us already?” Sophia asked. A smug expression belied her feelings.

  “No, no,” Eric answered taking the bait. “I’ve got to meet with Busta.”

  “Uncle Eric, you know we’re not gonna make it to the movies if we wait around for you and your business.” Deedee sounded disappointed.

  “Alright, here’s my phone.” Eric gave Sophia the cellular. “Let’s synchronize our watches. Its six-forty p.m. At exactly eight-thirty p.m., I’ll call you, and we’ll catch the nine p.m. movie.”

  “Okay. Sounds good,” Deedee said.

  “Yeah, because if you get in a meeting and you get on this phone,” Sophia said, pointing to the black instrument, “it’s all over.” They all laughed.

  Eric eased the car out of the parking lot and headed uptown to Cozy Geez, a night time hangout for the famous and infamous.

  “Be careful, Babe,” Sophia said. Eric kissed her soft, moist lips.

  “See you later, over dinner. You guys decide what movie y’all wanna see.”

  “Don’t forget to call us, Uncle E.,” Deedee said as he gently clasped her hand in his.

  “I will, sugar. Eight-thirty, right?”

  “That’s right,” Deedee called. She watched Eric cross the street, dodging traffic. He walked by the dark-suited bouncers and through the brown wooden doors. There was no need for a search. Eric Ascot was one of the city’s hottest music producers.

  Things had been difficult after his brother’s death, but Dennis had left him with good connections. Eric had produced one of the year’s best rhythm-and-blues albums. This raised him from ordinary contender and left him in the running for Music Producer of the Year.

  Eric strolled to a table for two in the rear. The waiter brought him his usual, straight Hennessy with a twist of lemon.

  “Good evening, sir,” the waiter said.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Eric faced the door. A sudden commotion arose. It was Busta’s usual fanfare.

  Busta blustered his way to the table. “Why they always feeling on me? Who they should be searching, they don’t. Motherfucking faggots,” growled Busta. His huge grin eclipsed his anger. “What’s good, E?” He threw his arms around Eric in a hearty hug. “Damn, you better start working out before you get like me, man.” Busta said as he landed soft punches to Eric’s midsection.

  “I can never get as large as you, Busta. What’s really good?” Eric asked. His own mock-punch landed softly on Busta’s protruding stomach. “This town ain’t big enough.”

  The waiter returned.

  “Two Heinekens and another shot of...” Eric paused, seemingly lost in thought. He and Busta were both distracted by a beautiful brown-skinned girl who sashayed by them.

  “Hennessy, Sir,” the w
aiter volunteered. He went off to get the drinks.

  “Hot damn!” Busta exclaimed, turning his back on Eric as a sexy something glided past. She gave Eric ‘the eye.’

  “Leave that alone, E. That spells nut’n but trouble. Leave that to me, man. I can use some o’ that type o’ trouble.”

  “Yeah alright, if you say so, man. Damn! If you say so.” Eric said while his hand toyed with his chin

  “Yeah. How’s Sophia?” Busta asked.

  “Doing well. She’s heaven-sent.” Eric said and slung a shot to his throat.

  “No, she was Busta’s blessing,” Busta corrected. “Things good with da biz?” Busta tossed back his shot of cognac. He slammed the heavy shot-glass down on the table with a bang. Eric did another and then both eyeballed the place as they sipped beer. The place was crawling with every flavor of sexy ladies ever assembled on the planet tonight. Busta spoke to Asian twins for awhile. Eric thought it was interesting.

  He had known Busta since High School. Busta had always been into hustling everything from drugs to numbers to girls. Eric wasn’t sure how Busta met Sophia. He was always into a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Eric motioned to the waiter to bring more drinks.

  “The biz is great. You know no one can touch my sound,” he said, smiling as he bragged. The waiter placed two shots on the table and removed the empty glasses.

  “What is it then, man? You don’t look right. Is Sophia putting pressure on you about that marriage thing? You know when women gets near thirty; they gotta know the man with them is willing to make ‘em legal.” Busta said. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Eric chuckle.

  “It’s not like that between me and Sophia. I love her and…”

  “So when you gonna marry her? I introduced her to you what four years now?”

  “My man, Busta, let me tell you. I sing your praises and wish you the best on a daily. You did me a solid. When I set a date, you’ll be the first to know.

  “So if it ain’t Sophie and it ain’t the music biz, what da fuck you said we were gonna meet on, Eric.”

  “It’s my niece, Deedee.”

  “Tell me, she strung out on crack? Is it ecstasy? Lemme know…”