Let That Be the Reason

by Vickie M. Stringer

  I walked past China wiggling her ass with a plate of food in her hand, and she smelled like she was smokin’ that stuff again, even though I told them no drugs at the party. For a crack addict, she had a fat ass that all the boys loved.

  P and his crew arrived in freshly washed whips, lined in a row at the cul-de-sac entrance, rolling two and four deep to a vehicle. Delano strolled in late, taking the breath away from Spice as she made her move to approach him. The sound system was bumpin’ house remixes, and the air was filled with joy as Gabrielle celebrated her birthday in style. Toy was flossing an aqua blue swimsuit with matching laced sandals and flirting with every guy there.

  Erik showed up late, and after a dry hi he never said another word for the rest of the night. He was still mad that I had met Dragos, and even madder now that Dragos only dealt with me. I offered to split all the money three ways, but Erik had to put in some work, and he didn’t like that.

  It used to be that he was at home chillin’ while T was putting in all the work, but now I had come along and changed the whole program, and he didn’t like the new rules. Regardless of the fact that we had more money, Erik didn’t want to do any work. I couldn’t blame him, who likes to work? It wasn’t an intentional double cross, but I’d be damned if they were gonna sit on they ass and still expect to collect free money from my hustle.

  T agreed to become a driver and share the responsibility of getting the shipment. In the seat cushions of the vans were hidden compartments that opened with a combination. The compartments were airtight and lined with coffee grains to mask the scent from police dogs in the event of a search. Each van held fifteen kilos, and on the return trip, it held the money. Thus, in the likely event that the police did their racial profiling routine and bogus traffic stop, they would not be able to find drugs or money in the van. A driver with a clean driving record and no warrants was home free. I agreed to move the product in the streets and meet people and count the money, which I soon learned was a job in itself.

  All Erik had to do was help move the product, deliver it and collect it. He didn’t want that. So I offered to give him $30,000 for collecting only. That wasn’t enough either—he also wanted a commission off each of them thangs. That shit was crazy. No way! So we couldn’t agree, and Dragos refused to talk to him. Dragos said he was giving me a chance, and Erik was salty about this, so he elected to sip on his Heineken all night and stare at me with a hateful look on his face.

  I decided to try talking one more time by bringing him another Heineken. I wrapped the beer in a white napkin and sashayed over to where he was standing. “Hi, Erik. How are you?”

  Silence.

  “Are you still mad at me? Are we gonna make up and work this out?”

  “Yo, Star! T is my friend, not yours. You would not have known him if it weren’t for me.” He twisted his face into a grimace. You know, the one you give a hater on the streets for looking at you the wrong way.

  He took another swig of his beer, and I continued my attempt to smooth things over. “Yes, Erik, this is true, but I thought after four years we were all friends. After all, I’m godmother to your nephew and I’ve stayed at your home. We’ve been through a lot.”

  “Still, I just feel like you overstepped your boundaries.”

  “Is it really that or do you feel like I crossed you?” I asked, already knowing how he really felt. I just wanted to hear him confess it.

  “Not really, but why can’t you get money from Chino? He used to take care of you.”

  “You said it: ‘used to.’ I was nothing more than a drug dealer’s girlfriend, and that’s all over now. He won’t support me or my son so I want this for myself. Like you, I want more for my son. Perhaps I’ll go back to school and go legit, but in the meantime, let’s work together.”

  “No, I can’t work with this. After we split this weekend, I’m out. You’re out of your league, and soon enough you’ll find out just how far out you are.”

  “Erik, I don’t want you to be mad at me.” I knew if Erik felt crossed, he might resort to something underhanded. He definitely had it in him to do some dirty shit, but I didn’t think he would go there with me.

  He took another swig of beer and continued. “Well, let’s just say that all things have changed. Nothing is the same anymore. This is my last weekend. You know everyone. With your new prices, you’ll have Columbus on lock. I can’t do nothing here no more. Look at T-Love, he’s about to get a divorce and don’t even know it. Just watch yourself,” he said in an odd tone.

  “I will, and I won’t be in this for very long. I promise.”

  He just looked real blank and stared off, drinking his beer. I walked away. Is this the price I must pay? Our friendship?

  The birthday cake came and Renaye was singing with her beautiful voice. “Happy birthday to ya, happy birthday to ya, happy birthday.” Underneath the singing, Carmen’s voice told me Erik was sizing me up—but for what? I didn’t know. He wouldn’t hurt me. God, please tell me, what is it? What am I doing wrong?

  Across the room I noticed a guy I had seen earlier in the evening. He looked very familiar to me. He was with Delano, and I assumed that they were partners, but he kept staring at me and watching my every move. Where do I know him from? I just can’t place him. Do I know him from Columbus or from someone? Who is he? I decided not to approach him unless he approached me. Who was this dude in the jogging suit? Who was he?

  Everyone I talked to said they were having fun, but G got an attitude because he got no attention. He kept running up in everyone’s face trying to be all that he could be. I wasn’t mad at him, but this was not the appropriate place. These were ballers like himself, not customers. He had absolutely no polish. A rusty-brass-ass nigga, but he finally figured out the difference after he got dissed enough.

  Delano was disappointed that I didn’t spend time with him. I still didn’t think he understood how deep in the game I was, but I couldn’t discuss it with him because he wanted me to be a lady. It was like he had this golden image of me, and I didn’t want to knock myself off the pedestal. I couldn’t be real with him. How would he take the escort service? There were too many “what if’s” when it came to Delano and I couldn’t deal with them right then.

  After the party, Erik, T and I decided to meet at the condo to discuss our business. We made $6,000 off each of the fifteen kilos, making us $90,000. Even though Erik refused to put in any work, I still split everything three ways as a sign of loyalty and good faith. I paid Dragos his $300,000. Three hundred thousand dollars! It was unreal. I was thrilled with my $30,000. I was now more than halfway to my goal, and in one more weekend, I would exceed it. My new life was closer to being a reality.

  “You did it, C! You did this!” T exclaimed.

  All Erik could do was be mad. He said, “I can’t believe that Dragos worked with you. I had been asking him for years to do this.”

  Easing in between the two of them, I said, “Well, look at it this way, he finally did it. And we are a team. We made ninety thousand in a weekend. That should speak for something. This is about us. Now, are we homies for life or what?”

  With a mouth full of food, T mumbled, “Yeah, Erik, she’s got a good point. Carmen, you can be my homie and my boo. Come here and give me a kiss.”

  “T, you so silly, but today, I will give you that kiss.” I kissed him right on them greasy lips.

  Erik took another swig of his beer, stuffed his money in a bag and gave T a look that could kill. T-Love turned white as a sheet, stopped chewing and then responded, “I mean, I guess I think you did good.”

  Erik looked in my direction and said, “Pammy, you taking this Carmen shit to heart, huh? You really think you are Carmen, the baller.” He shook his head and walked out the patio door.

  I looked at T-Love with a perplexed expression on my face. “T, don’t tell me he’s jealous.”

  “I don’t know what’s up with that nigga. Fuck him.” He gave me a high five and said, “I’m not stressing this
shit! Where’s your phone? I’m calling my hoochie. The wife is at the hotel.”

  “T-Love, she’s one lucky hoochie, but what happens when you don’t want her anymore?”

  “Then she can look for another sponsor, and I can get me a new ho to lick my balls,” T said.

  “See, that’s why I wanted my own. True, I want a man with money, but at the end of the day, it turns back into money. God bless the child who got her own.”

  Thirteen

  On Friday, the vans came and went. Like the hands of a clock moving swiftly and surely, with equal certainty, the plan was executed. After three weekends, I had saved my prayed-for $50,000 and actually exceeded my goal. Erik no longer came, but I still sent him his third in an attempt at a peace offering. After sending him another $30,000, I decided I couldn’t be a fool about it any longer so I would stop sending his third. I let go of any feelings of guilt I had. Shit! I was out there campaigning and trying to make it. Why couldn’t he?

  Dragos had increased my weekly supply to twenty-five kilos. I was now paying a fronted $18,500 for them and I was moving them no problem.

  Two more weekends passed. There was still no Erik, so I sent no money back. Then one weekend he appeared out of nowhere and told me he wanted to put some work in. T-Love was with him, and he was real quiet. Normally, T was quiet, but only because he was eating something, and in that case, he would grunt once or twice. You could have heard a mouse piss on cotton before you heard a word come out of T-Love’s mouth that day. Even the drivers, Capo and Ramón, thought that was odd. They heard the request and Capo pulled me to the side and spoke to me in a heavy Spanish accent.

  “Carmen, do you think this is a good idea?”

  “I’m sure,” I told him confidently. “We go way back and he just had an issue with working for a woman.”

  “Okay, only if you’re certain.”

  “It’s good,” I reassured him and walked back over to Erik and T.

  Erik told me that he needed ten kilos. Wanting to be in agreement with him, I gave them to him in hopes it would squash any ill feelings. Once he received the ten kilos, neither Erik nor T looked me in the face. They just walked out the door and left. Normally, T stayed around the house or stuck up under his girl, or shall I say, his hoochie.

  I realized that this life was taking its toll on me. It was getting to the point that if I drove down the street, I was paranoid of rival drug dealers, the police or stickup kids. It seemed as if the hoochies had all the fun.

  I delivered the remaining ten kilos and did some window shopping at the mall to relax myself. I felt so uneasy about everything. I dismissed it as fatigue and needing a vacation. Sunday came around and still no sign of T-Love or Erik. I paged them, repeatedly and urgently using 911-911-911-911-911-000 to get their attention. When they didn’t call back, I put my address 1104 and 911 to let them know to come to my home ASAP. I even put in T-Love’s hoochie’s code, which was 696969. Still, no answer. I decided to call Erik’s home.

  “Hello?” his mother answered with a Jamaican accent.

  “Hi, Ms. Fournier. May I speak with Erik?”

  “Hi, Pamela, how are you?”

  “I’m well. Is Erik, Timothy or Diane home?”

  “How is the baby? Him be fine?”

  “Yes, him be fine,” I said without thinking. Damn, why won’t she answer my fucking question? “I was trying to catch Erik before I went out of town. Is he there?”

  “Listen ’ere. Erik, Timothy and Diane have moved to Florida, but they don’t want anyone to know. They asked me not to tell anyone. You never know what they do. Do you know what’s going on?”

  “No, ma’am. I don’t.” I guess she doesn’t know that I am the “anyone” she wasn’t supposed to tell, huh? “Please tell them I called and that I wish them well.”

  “Yes, I do that for you, and you take care of you and the baby.”

  “Ms. Fournier?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for the years of your hospitality. I love you.”

  “Pamela, you’re welcome, and I love you, too.”

  “Bye!”

  Because they had Jamaican and U.S. passports, they could be anywhere. I called the hoochie because I knew that T had told her everything. Pillow talk is deep.

  “T-Love told me it was over last night and that I would never see him again. He gave me twenty-five grand, told me to take care of myself and that he really loved me but that he was moving to England. He also said, Carmen, you be talking shit about me and that they couldn’t work with you. T said he got love for you, but Erik threatened to tell T’s wife about me if he didn’t go along with his setup. Carmen, T never wanted to hurt you, but he said you got it going on and that you would be all right.” Then the bitch started crying and asking me if T really was gone.

  “I believe he is,” I told her, then I hung up the phone.

  It was confirmed—I had gotten jacked for ten kilos. Robbed without a pistol. I just sat there in the middle of my kitchen floor and bawled until my eyes hurt and all the snot in my nose was on my shirt. I could believe it, but I was just fucked up behind the shit. Now I was really all by myself. Rule number two: don’t trust nobody.

  On top of it, I owed Dragos the money for the missing kilos. At my fronted $18,500, that meant I owed him $185,000—out of my pocket. I couldn’t understand how they could place me in a position like this, to potentially place death upon my son and me. I didn’t have the money, and I had no way of explaining it. Dragos’s words rang in my ears: “Carmen, you are responsible.”

  As I sat on the floor, I realized I needed to make a decision. I stopped crying, then became angry. I went to my closet, pulled out my stash and counted my money. I had almost $80,000.

  God… I know I said I would stop at fifty grand, but I was trying to do some things.

  “Drop the act!” I said out loud. It was time to be honest and lose the excuses. “I’m just plain old greedy like most hustlers get in the streets. Just plain old greedy.” Whew! I said it, and I felt better. I gathered all my money, except for $1,000. I figured it would get me through whatever it was I was about to go through.

  I hit the streets, collected all the money, feeling numb. When I collected from Paul, he had a look on his face like he knew. Or maybe I was paranoid. It didn’t matter because he had the money. G-Money was giving me the “I’m mad at you” silent treatment, so he gave me the money with no words. I didn’t care. He could have thrown it on the floor, and I would have dove on it, picked it up and smiled. When I got to Delano, he wanted to talk. I refused to get out of my Jeep, so he just stood there talking to me.

  “Carmen, you looking kinda rough, girl.”

  I continued to trace the outline of my car door along the rubber seal that keeps the moisture and air from getting into the car. I traced the door to keep from chewing it. Moving my hands up to grip the leather steering wheel, I said through gritted teeth and with dwindling patience, “Thanks a lot. Just give me the money.”

  “So, I gotta pay to talk to you?”

  “No, I’m just in a rush.”

  “You’re always in a rush. I’m gonna slow you down one day. I’ll give you the money after I tell you something.”

  Shit, just what I need, a lecture. “What is it?” I asked, annoyed as fuck.

  “Carmen, I’m here if you ever need me.”

  I won’t ever need no man.

  “I don’t have much, and I may not be able to live like you do, but I have my heart to give, and I want to be with you and your son. Give me a chance to make you happy.”

  These weak-ass lines.

  “Let’s go somewhere for a vacation—my expense—while your son is away.”

  Pamela was trying to break out, and I felt a tear forming, so I turned away to avoid eye contact.

  “Chino, please stop playing. Let go of my hair. I’m sorry.” He tightened his grip on my hair, and I felt the skin on my face pull back and my eyes widen. I was on my knees begging for him to end this g
ame.

  He leaned into my face, looking me dead in the eye and said, “Now say something, talk shit now. You always thought that you were better than me. Your mom always talking shit about me and how I feed my family. Thought you were too good for a nigga getting money. Look at you. Fuck you and your fake-ass family.”

  I grabbed his wrist in an attempt to loosen the grip he had on my hair as I felt long strands being ripped out in places. Pain tore through my skull, and I started seeing white dots every time I opened my eyes.

  “Christonos, please, baby, don’t do this. Let me go.”

  I had called him by the name only his mother used, hoping to bring back a memory and soften his heart. The look on his face did not change, and I realized using his real name had infuriated him more.

  “How dare you call me that name? You ain’t got it like that no more.” He was seething mad and began foaming little slobber bubbles on the sides of his mouth, spitting in my face as he continued to scream. Flinching at the flying spit, I had to make a decision—continue to plead or begin to fight.

  “No!” I said coldly. Here Delano was pouring his heart out, showing his willingness to do anything for me and my son, and I just didn’t give a fuck.

  “Carmen.” Delano continued holding me up longer than I wanted to be. For a tiny moment, I thought of running over what seemed like the good in my life with my Jeep. I placed my car in gear, listening for a reason, and said, “What?”

  He stood up straight, shoulders back and said, “I love you.”

  I snatched the bag from his hand and drove off. Who needed that shit? Not me. I had all the money, but I was short $75,000. I went to a pay phone, called Dragos and asked if we could talk. I decided to be a grown woman about things. I told him point-blank, “Dragos, I have some problems with Erik and T-Love. They’re out and not with me anymore. I’m on my own. I’m a little short, but I want to keep going. I’m willing to do what I gotta do. I can come in person to talk more.”

  “Carmen, your sincerity always touches me. I understand about this life. Talk to my head driver. Good-bye.”