Ghetto Girls

by Anthony Whyte

  “Bitch, you best stay outta that shit. Leave peoples bidness alone or you’ll be toe-tagged.”

  “Fuck you, you crack head lowlife.” Coco entered the park, ready to walk home. She turned back to see Rightchus being joined by a congregation of emaciated people in dirty clothes. They prepared to sacrifice their lives in the worship of the contents of the vials.

  “Crack heads,” Coco whispered. Her bop came off a little shaky.

  “Stay out of it, Coco. You ain’t much. Just a regular girl,” Rightchus called. Then he addressed his crowd. “Y’all muthafuckas come on an’ collect your poison. It ain’t free, it’s gonna cost three.” Business was brisk. Rightchus now concentrated on his growing flock.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “I’m sorry, babe, but it just couldn’t wait. I mean, I—I was-n’t really late. I was there when you received your award, and I was very proud of you. So now you’re full-time, huh?” Eric asked. He had managed to reach the awards banquet, but, as expected, he had arrived late.

  “Don’t you try to weasel out of this, and stop trying to be my friend. I worked for it and furthermore, Mr. Lateness, I was always full-time.” Sophia laid the box of Romeo y Juliet cigars on the table, and knowing Eric disapproved, removed one and lit it. She gagged on the smoke. Eric reacted in alarm. The waiter rushed to the table with water.

  “Soph, you’re not supposed to inhale the smoke. It’ll choke you.” Eric said giving the coughing Sophia a glass of water. Several waiters rushed their table.

  “I’m sorry, Madame, but there’s no smoking allowed. May I get you something to drink?” One of the waiters said.

  “I’m sorry too,” Sophia said. “May I have a double apple martini? And I don’t know what Mr. Lateness here wants.” She stared coldly at Eric and pulled out her make-up case and refreshed her lipstick.

  “I’ll have what the lady’s having, thank you,” Eric said.

  “Please hurry or I may be tempted to light up again,” Sophia said. The waiter departed.

  “Now, see, I told you not to light that cigar. What…”

  “Yeah, you told me, but I’m not in the mood to hear your late butt, cause when I talk to you, you don’t try to hear me.”

  “C’mon, babe, you’re not still running that shit.”

  “That shit? That shit happens to be my bread and butter and your lateness made me look sorta bad.”

  “Sorta bad. I mean, I apologized already.”

  “I don’t give a damn if you apologized ten times already. If I want to have the eleventh, you will give it up, baby. And furthermore, my smoking brought a waiter running to our table, thank you. Otherwise, we would’ve been sitting here waiting. Oh, but I’m good at waiting. I’ve been practicing all night. Eric, you don’t even want to start with me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Uh huh. I did not ask for it yet.”

  The waiter arrived with the drinks. Eric glanced around the cafe. She’s right, he thought as he studied the stage. An elderly man with a long white beard sat at a piano, center stage. The lights dimmed. Good, thought Eric. I wouldn’t want everyone else to see me grovel. He smiled as he turned to Sophia, sipping her martini. Eric heard the pleasant note of the piano just as he met Sophia’s hostile glare.

  “Baby,” Eric said softly, “you know I wouldn’t do anything intentionally to hurt you, so please, please forgive me.”

  “But Eric, I asked you nicely…”

  “Baby, I know you did.”

  “Well, if you dance with me...”

  “Dance? Babe you can’t dance to—well, err, I guess you could. May I have this dance?” Eric stood in supplication.

  “Yes, thanks,” Sophia said.

  Eric guided her out on the floor. He smiled and embraced her petite frame. She was beautiful in her simple black dress, which revealed more now than Eric had noticed earlier. She’s stunning, he thought. He held her tighter.

  “Hmm” she murmured. He grabbed her hand and swept her off her feet. He was floating on the cloud provided by the pianist. Sophia held to him firmly, not caring where the ride would end.

  “Your place or mine?” Eric asked minutes later. Sophia said nothing, but molded herself to Eric’s body. She wished he hadn’t stop.

  “Well, you are well-dressed. My place, mister. Hurry and don’t be late.” She disengaged from Eric and headed for the exit. Eric sprinted to the table, paid the tab and hurried out of the cafe. She smiled when he got in the car. Eric challenged the smile with a hard kiss. Sophia resisted at first, then gave in. His hands met the silky black barrier around her soft flesh.

  “Alright, alright. Let’s go. But is Dee okay?” Sophia caught her breath. “Eric, let’s go to your place. We…”

  “Call the house.”

  “And risk waking her?”

  “You know Deedee doesn’t hear nothing when she goes to sleep.”

  “So why call?”

  “When I left home, one of her friends, Coco, had stopped over.”

  “Oh, the call is to see if Coco is still there?” Sophia dialed the number. “No answer.”

  “No answer means Coco’s gone and Deedee’s probably in bed.”

  “Good, just the way we planned this, Mr. Lateness.” Sophia said.

  “I won’t be late now.” Eric massaged Sophia’s thigh. The fabric felt supple in his hand, her flesh warmed to his touch. She put the car in gear and zoomed out of the parking lot.

  Eric and Sophia, a little drunk from the evening’s activity, crept up the stairs like kids who had broken curfew. They dashed into the bedroom, where Eric’s hands quickly encountered the silk panties covering Sophia’s ass.

  “Take it easy,” Sophia whispered.

  “I’m just trying to be on time.”

  “You don’t have to try. The loving ain’t going nowhere. It’s right here, waiting for you,” Sophia said in a throaty whisper. She turned to face Eric, her dress clinging to a toned, five-foot-eight, curves-in-the-right-places body.

  He watched with fascination as she reached up and made the black dress disappear with her arm movements. Eric kissed her gently, biting Sophia’s earlobes while his hands moved smoothly all over her ass.

  “Ooh, ahh. Oh my, are we the impatient one...” Sophia sighed as her body clung to Eric’s. Her heartbeat galloped and made her breath come in gasps.

  “Ah,” she moaned as their bodies fell entangled on the huge waterbed. The bed swayed slightly. Sophia rolled on top. She peeled off the rest of her clothing. Eric kissed and sucked at her nipples. Sophia’s naked body came in contact with the wool covering his erection.

  “You’re not out of your clothes yet, good looking? Late again, huh?” whispered Sophia. She straddled Eric. He could feel her soft skin. His hands roamed, kneading her taut hot brown body. His touch made her skin burn. Her tension uncoiled into mush. The heat ignited Sophia, raising her temperature to dizzying heights.

  “Ah, uh, I can’t wait on you, honey. I want you inside of me now,” she whispered as she pulled Eric’s zipper down and unleashed his erection. She easily slid the condom over its head then she mounted and began rocking back and forth.

  “Oh, oh, agh yeah, baby,” Eric said.

  “Shh, ah,” Sophia whispered as she kissed Eric’s face. She wrapped her arms around his neck. The cheeks of her buttocks were cupped in his large strong hands. Her gentle rocking brought him to the gates of ecstasy. She felt his body in a spastic dance ritual signifying Eric reaching his orgasm. “That’s it? That’s all?” Sophia grunted with Eric on top of her. She flipped Eric over on to his back. Then sucked until his dick head pointed proudly to the ceiling. Sophia straddled him. All the time Eric grunted while he enjoyed the view of Sophia her breasts bouncing up and down. He saw the way she bit her lips to prevent from screaming. She sweated as she continued to ride.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Lil’ Long held his finger on the Glock’s trigger. He stood watch in this position until Vulcha was a step away from him.

  �
�Five G’s,” Vulcha said as he approached. It was the password. Lil’ Long relaxed.

  “Five G’s,” Lil’ Long repeated. “They drug dealing asses be getting over from da cheap protection we be providing their asses wit’ Vulcha.” He placed the gun in his waistband. They got back in the Navigator.

  “So whatcha saying sun?” Vulcha jerkily pulled the SUV into the traffic.

  “I’m saying they should be hitting us wid mo’ dough, see? They getting protection from da police. I mean, when was da last time a bust went down?”

  “It’s been a minute. True.”

  “That’s worth a couple G’s. And mo’fuckas able to operate safely. Nobody, I mean nobody, runs up on nobody. We’re like operation safety net, see?”

  “True dat, sun. So what you saying?”

  “I’m saying, nigga, we need a muthafucking pay raise.”

  “Yeah, now you talking. It ain’t no lie, nigga,” Vulcha said his eyes steadfast on the road.

  “I’m saying, Vulcha, you got that new chumpy and all. Matter fact how’s what’s her name doing?”

  “Who that, Kamilla?” Vulcha asked.

  “Yeah, that big-tittie bitch.” Lil’ Long replied.

  “Don’t be calling my bitch no bitch, mo’fucka. That’s wifey.” Vulcha said.

  “Don’t be running that ‘who’s calling who bitch’, Vulcha. We go way back, but that don’t mean I won’t break you off sump’n,” Lil’ Long said caressing the silver handle of his Desert Eagle.

  “I ain’t da enemy, sun. Let’s you an’ me go have a drink and discuss this matter like gentlemen.”

  “Good idea, for sho,” Lil’ Long said in a mocking tone. They both laughed.

  “But I mean it,” Lil’ Long said.

  “Mean what, nigga? Get a raise?”

  “Yeah, and the other question, too. How’s your woman?”

  “Hit her wid dough. Hit that fat ass often. She’s always smiling, know wha’ I’m saying? No stress, no complaints outta that bitch.”

  “Yeah, yeah, nigga. Talking bout hitting, we should pay mo’fucking Busta a visit.”

  “But how do we know? That nigga Rightchus might be making up da shit to drum up some biz for himself.”

  “Nah, nah. That nigga, he’ll be doing much shit, but Rightchus is never, ever wrong, Vulcha.”

  “So let’s talk to Busta. Lemme talk to him, sun.”

  “Vulcha, I know he’s your man from way back an’ all, but check da stats. Rightchus has never been wrong. We should be taking duct tape an’ baseball bats to that fat, mo’fucking Busta-ass nigga.”

  “Lemme build wid him, know wha’ I’m saying?”

  “I’m saying da nigga is da enemy. Da nigga is trying to get us. We got to get him first. Pull up. Pull up right here. They got some good southern fried chicken in this spot.”

  “Let me see him first, ahight?” Vulcha asked and looked at Lil’ Long. Their gaze was held together by Lil’ Long’s bitten lips.

  “Ahight,” Lil’ Long said, “for old time’s sake. Getting soft, nigga? Don’t get weak on me.”

  Vulcha pulled the SUV into the lot. They headed toward the all night diner.

  “You must leave the keys, sir,” the attendant said. Vulcha threw the keys over his shoulder. They landed next to the attendant’s feet.

  “You’re careless, Vulcha.”

  “Let’s get drunk, ahight? I ain’t getting careless, either. I know your ass is thinking because Vulcha have da piece of ass at home that I’m soft. But I’m not, nigga.” Now Vulcha was sitting across from Lil’ Long, sipping an Alabama Slammer.

  “Well, you know my motto, mo’fucka: All weak niggas must die in order for me to be immortal.” Lil’ Long raised his drink. “No exceptions,” Lil’ Long said with finality. Vulcha stared at him and wondered if he could get in touch with Busta without Lil’ Long finding out. He contemplated if, and why, Busta wanted to kill them. He downed his drink and ordered another.

  THIRTY

  The day was cloudy and it dragged. By ten thirty, most of the kids had gathered in the huge hall of the funeral home. The entire school, including faculty and staff, were gathered there. The hall was frozen silent as everyone filed passed the gold and white casket. Some stopped briefly, others broke the silence with sobbing outbursts.

  Danielle’s family was there, all dressed in black, their faces solemn and their eyes red. Josephine stared at the body of Danielle in the casket. She wanted to ask why? But only sobs came. Josephine saw Coco next to the window and approached her. Coco was staring longingly out the window. She watched the kids outside, forming groups and engaging in gabfests.

  “What’s up, Coco?” Josephine startled Coco, who whirled to face the girl she had considered a friend.

  “Yeah, what’s popping, Josephine?”

  “Lots of people showed up, huh?” Josephine asked. Coco noticed her eyes swollen from crying.

  “Yeah. How’ve you been, yo?”

  “I been better. Look, you probably don’t understand, but my parents…”

  “We better go outside, yo.”

  Both girls walked hastily out of the building. The gray skies hung delicately, as if the slightest interruption would cause them to come crashing down to earth. The girls stood amidst their peers and briefly hugged. Then Josephine resumed her explanation.

  “My parents, they think I could be next, so they didn’t want me out of the home for a minute. I’m lucky they let me come here. Listen, she was my friend, too. I’m still expecting the phone to ring and she’ll be on the other end. I miss her crazy ass,” Josephine said as tears streamed down her face.

  Coco hugged her and they both cried together. Their sobbing drew the attention of other mourners. Grief stricken kids came to Coco and Josephine, shared the sorrow, wished them both the best and moved on.

  “My parents want to send me to some school down south. I don’t really wanna go, but I don’t have much choice.. After all, they’re still my parents. I mean...”

  “You got to do what’s right, yo.”

  “I don’t know what’s right. I mean, Danielle…I got to go, Coco. Listen, take care,” Josephine said, she was still crying.

  Coco stared at her and realized she wanted to know what Josephine had meant, but didn’t ask. Before she knew it, Josephine had rejoined her parents. They waved at Coco, hugged Josephine and walked away. What about the group? Coco almost shouted. What about our friendship? She dug her hands through her pockets found a pack of cigarettes and quickly lit one.

  “May I have one of those?”

  “Hey whassup, Deedee? Creeping on me, huh? Yeah, sure yo, you can have one.” Coco said and gave Deedee a cigarette. “Having a rough ass day.”

  “Oh yeah.” Deedee agreed as she puffed along with Coco.

  “This place. Damn, there’s so much sadness. I spoke to Josephine.” Coco said.

  “Josephine? How’s she doing?” Deedee asked.

  “Well, she’s pretty caught up with the death and all. Her parents are moving her outta town.” Coco said.

  “Where? Did she say?” Deedee asked sensing the way Coco’s voice dropped.

  “Down south somewhere. I don’t know, yo.”

  “So what’s gonna happen with y’all and the singing?” Deedee asked as she tried to change the subject

  “Well, damn, I don’t really know for sure. I guess right about now everything will be on hold.” Coco answered.

  “Coco, you shouldn’t. You aren’t gonna quit now. I mean, you’ve got to do sump’n for Danielle, you know.”

  “Yeah, right now, da shit’s too sad and I miss her too much, yo,” Coco said. Tears formed in her sad eyes, her throat exploded in a choking sob. Deedee hugged her. Coco’s body shuddered from the emotion. Deedee’s body swayed with Coco’s. The clouds continued to stain the sky, leaving it hopelessly gray.

  The phone rang once, then again and again. Eric reached up to get the call, but he was pulled back onto the bed by Sophia.

  “Oh, ar
en’t we in a rush to get this call,” she said with mock severity.

  “Rush? I only rush for you and business. Oh baby, don’t do that.”

  “Let the machine pick this one up, babe,” Sophia said toying with Eric’s semi-erect penis, her hands busy making designs in his pubic hair. The phone continued to ring until the machine picked up. It was Busta. Eric grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  Sophia watched Eric for a moment and then jumped out of the bed. She threw a pillow at him before she went downstairs.

  “It’s’ done, E. I’ll meet up with you later.”

  “Yeah, alright. I’ll talk to you later. At the bar? Cool.”

  Busta put the receiver down. Lips traced kisses all over his body. He smiled and stroked the hair of the woman sucking his erection. The lip service brought him the relief he sought, but he had failed to notice the listener standing at the door of his apartment.

  “Fat fuck,” whispered Vulcha as he left his listening post for the streets.

  Eric peered out the window and saw the clouds. It must be raining on Busta’s end of the city, he thought as he ran down the stairs in search of Sophia. He found her in the kitchen drinking orange juice. He embraced her and stroked her body.

  “Let’s go back and roll in my big water bed,” he suggested as he rubbed his hands over Sophia’s breasts. Her nipples hardened to his touch and her knees weakened as she felt his manhood thrust against her.

  “Why are you and Busta playing cloak and dagger?”

  “Business, babe.”

  “Your niece left you a reminder,” said Sophia, handing Eric a piece of paper. He read it quickly.

  “Oh, I forgot. Today’s the wake for that girl, ah, Danielle.”

  “Well?”

  “Well, I told Deedee I would, we would be there...”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  “You mean at this moment, babe? We could still get sump’n in. I mean we got time. It’s perfect weather for staying in.”

  “I wasn’t the one who told Deedee that we would be there.” She kissed his lips and attempted to pull away, but he held her. He ground his body into hers and pressed his mouth against hers. She fell back against the kitchen sink, uttering soft phrases of protest. She held Eric’s arms tightly as he gently hoisted her to the edge of the sink. The tongue lashing commenced.