by Chunichi
After getting my thoughts and priorities back on track, I headed to the kitchen, where my moms was hard at work cooking breakfast.
“Morning, Ma,” I greeted her, with a kiss on the cheek. She had made a feast for me. My favorite meal of the day had always been breakfast.
“Hey, baby, how did you sleep last night?” she asked with one hand turning over frying bacon and the other holding a cigarette.
“Pretty good.”
“Let me fix you a plate to get your day started off right,” she offered.
“Thanks, Ma. Before I went in, you promised me you would stop smoking,” I reminded her.
“With stress from my job, bills, and you locked up, I needed something to help me cope. I’ll tell you what, Breeze. If you can go out there and get a job, I’ll quit smoking cold turkey,” she vowed while laying my plate on the kitchen table in front of me.
“It’s a deal,” I agreed. While I ate, I tried not to think about Maria’s conniving ass, but the bitch kept popping back up. This chick won’t even let me see my own damn kids. Every time I thought about her, my head started hurting.
I rushed and finished my food, then headed out the door. I wanted to make sure I was at least thirty minutes early for my appointment. I thought that would impress my parole officer. From what I’d heard, a P.O. could make or break you, and I damn sure didn’t need anyone else going against me. My odds of survival were bad enough already. Once I was on the bus, I decided I would relax on the way there and have my daily conversation with my main man upstairs. I figured if I put it in his hands, I’d be okay. I put my hand on the cross hanging off the necklace Moses had given me, and closed my eyes.
“Byron Miller,” a man called out as I waited in the foyer. Once I got up, he led me to his office. I didn’t know what to expect.
“Your name is Byron Miller?” he questioned.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Well, son, my name is Winston Hicks and I’m going to be your parole officer,” he explained while pulling out a cup from his desk drawer.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“This cup is for you to piss in. You get one of these tests once a month. You fuck up once and you go straight back to jail. First and foremost, I don’t put up with no bullshit. This morning I reviewed your record. I must say it was quite long. If you’re a smart man, for your sake, I hope you put all that shit behind you and have plans to change your street ways. By the way, whatever your dumb-ass street name is, I won’t call you that. Your name is Byron Miller to me. Here are some job sites I need you to go on, and I will follow up with these employers. If you don’t go, you’ve won yourself a one-way ticket to jail. As I said before, I don’t play no games. Now, if you really want to better yourself, I will help you as much as I can. You got that, son?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded again.
“Now, don’t waste my time. Go on and do that piss test. The bathroom is on the right,” he instructed while handing me the cup. Thankfully, I hadn’t smoked.
After the test results came out negative, I was able to take the next step and start looking for a job. Hicks gave me a long list that would take me at least two days to finish, so I dove right into it. I was stepping out of Farm Fresh, where I applied for a night stocker position, when some of my old boys drove by. I didn’t have shit, but I wasn’t going to let them see me sweat.
“Breezy, Breeze,” I heard a call from the car. I walked up to them.
“What up, nigga.” They each dapped me up. They were eager to see what was going on with me.
“I’m good.” I nodded.
“What you got going on for the rest of the day?” Mannie asked.
“My schedule is all open. What’s good?” I replied.
“Say no more. Hop in,” he offered. I jumped in and Mannie sped off.
For the next two hours, I rode around with my niggas while they made their rounds doing pickups. It reminded me of my days in the game, riding around, checking niggas on the block and collecting my dough. Yeah, being with those niggas made me miss the game for a split second, but when I thought about those five years and the vow I’d made the night before my release, I ain’t give a fuck about the game. My boys told me what had been up since I’d been gone. They passed the blunt around as we chatted. I declined the blunt but welcomed the information about the streets. I saw this as a perfect opportunity to verify the information I had gotten from Trixy. I asked about some of the dudes I used to roll with: Killa Mike, Cash, and Peady.
Mannie quickly gave me the rundown. “Mike and Cash got shot up during a robbery. These niggas was dressing up like the police and robbing trap houses. It didn’t take long for niggas to catch on. So one night, when these niggas tried to hit a crib, niggas was waiting on them. As soon as they kicked the door in, niggas sprayed their ass. Killa got hit fifteen times, so he ain’t make it, and Cash caught five. That nigga made it, but he paralyzed, shitting and pissing on his self every day. From what I hear, Peady supposed to be doing it big down south somewhere.”
None of that shit Mannie said was really a surprise to me. Since Mike and Cash had snitched on me, I knew those grimey niggas had it coming. As far as Peady, he was my right-hand man, so he knew how the game went. Not only did he have my knowledge about how to get things done, but he ran off with my money, so why wouldn’t he be doing good? Mannie went on to say that a nigga named Mr. Biggs was like Wal-Mart, and everyone in the seven cities was buying from him.
“I’m holding shit down in Norfolk. Whenever you ready, nigga, I can put you back on,” Mannie offered.
“Nah, duke. I ain’t fucking with that.” I declined his offer just as easily as I had declined the blunt earlier.
“All right, Breeze. I hear you, man. You trying to be on that good-boy shit. Every nigga like that when they first hit the bricks, but you know that shit’ll wear off after a while. Once the streets whip that ass real good, you’ll go back to what you know. And it’s this motherfucking white girl you know best, nigga!” Mannie spoke the truth.
Deep down, I knew what Mannie was saying was right. Selling drugs and making street paper were just about the only things I was really good at. I knew it wasn’t gonna be a easy task, but I owed it to my kids, Ma, and my grandma to stay on the right path and live legit this time around. I had expected getting propositions from niggas, so I already had my head straight. A weak nigga would have easily given in. Before the ride was over, each of them hit me off with a few dollars.
I had them drop me off at an old building a few blocks from my grandma’s crib. There was a job there I needed to check out.
“I’m here about the janitorial position you got,” I said as I walked in the front door.
There was a bald-headed black man sitting at a desk, reading the newspaper. He didn’t even look up as he spoke to me. “You got any experience son?”
“Nah, man. I’m just looking for a gig. I know how to clean up, but I ain’t never had no job,” I said, being honest.
I didn’t know what it was about this man, but I just felt like he was from the streets. He reminded me of an O.G. He finally put down his newspaper and looked up at me. He was silent as he looked me up and down from head to toe. “You on parole, boy?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered. There wasn’t any sense in lying. I figured my parole officer had already given him a heads-up that I’d be coming by, anyway.
“What you do time for? Drugs?” he asked like he knew me or something.
“Yes, sir.”
“You doing this to keep your P.O. off your back or you really trying to change?” The O.G. asked question after question.
“Man, I’m trying to live right. I lost a whole lot during that five-year bid. I’m just trying to build my life back and do it the right way,” I said sincerely.
“Okay, my man. I’ve been in your shoes. You remind me of myself when I first got out the pen. I’m gonna give you a try, but one fuck up and you’re out the door. Can you start tonight?”
“Yes, sir! I can start right now if you need me to!” I quickly took the O.G. up on his offer.
“Okay. Meet me at Freedom Bank on Granby Street at seven o’clock. If you’re late, you’re fired,” he said as he laid down the rules. “Dress comfortablly.”
“I’ll be there. Thanks, man,” I said, then walked back out of the office.
I rushed home full of excitement. I wasn’t excited about being a janitor, considering I used to have a maid of my own. To tell you the truth, the shit was kind of depressing. But I knew this was one step in the right direction and one step closer to getting my kids back.
I had just enough time to get some lunch and take a nap. While I was coming in the door, Ma and Grandma were watching the news. Ma was standing by the couch looking as if she’d just come home from work, and Grandma was in her recliner, munching on some salted peanuts.
“Hey, Breeze, how did your day go?” Ma eagerly asked.
“It was a’ight. I saw my P.O. and I got a li’l gig,” I announced, nodding my head.
“That’s wonderful. Where is the job?” Grandma inquired after taking her glasses off.
“It’s at Freedom Bank on Granby Street. I’m going to be a janitor working the evening shifts,” I explained.
“When do you start?” Ma questioned.
“Tonight.”
“Breeze, I’m so proud of you. Come give this old lady a hug,” Grandma replied, reaching her arms toward me. “I know it’s not the best job in the world, and it’s not gonna be easy, but at least it will keep you off the streets.”
“Yeah, and now you can start helping out with the bills!” Ma chimed in.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll do my part. Now are you gonna do your part and stop smoking?” I reminded Ma about the deal she’d previously made.
“Oh, shit, Breeze, I forgot all about our deal. Okay, I’ll try my best…right after this pack is finished! This shit cost me almost ten dollars and I’m not about to throw them away!” She chuckled.
“Yeah, a’ight, Ma,” I said, knowing my mom was full of shit.
“Let me fix you something to snack on. We are about to fry some fish,” Grandma suggested as she got up from her La-Z-Boy chair.
After eating dinner, I took a nap, and awoke to the sounds of gunshots. I looked out the window to see a nigga lying in the street and a car speeding off. It looked like a drive-by. Just another reminder I was back in the fucking hood. I glanced at the clock and saw it was already six. I hopped up, threw on my clothes, and headed out the door. I’d never had a job before in my life and I’d never wanted one. Who ever thought Breezy Breeze would be working, and as a janitor? Boy, shit had really changed.
I showed up at the bank fifteen minutes early. The O.G. was just pulling up. I saw this fine-ass chick standing by the front enterance as I was walking up to the bank. She had a dark-skinned, amaretto complexion, and was about five feet six, with long, thick black hair. I could tell her shit wasn’t no weave, either. Her ass was nice and thick, shaped like an upside-down heart. She didn’t have much to her breasts but I could tell they were just big enough to grab and squeeze. She was definitely the “take home to momma” type. I watched as she was locking up the place.
“Hold that door, baby girl,” the O.G. hollered as he rushed up.
“Grab some of these things, son.” He handed me a bucket of cleaning supplies. I grabbed them and followed him in.
Knowing I wasn’t in any position to holla at any respectable-type chick, a girl like her, I didn’t even look in her direction as we walked in.
“Good evening,” I heard a soft voice say. I was surprised that she’d acknowledged me.
“How you doing?” I tried to sound polite and gentlemen-like.
“Very good, thank you. Have a good night,” she said as she walked away.
“You too.” I nodded.
A nigga was feeling real low right about now. Before I’d gotten locked up, I could pull any girl I wanted, because my game was always tight. No woman could deny me: black, white, hood, rich, whatever they were, they loved them some Breezy Breeze. I had all the accessories to go along with my good looks and irresistible charm, too. The money, clothes, jewels, and cars. There was no way I could come at this bank lady, broke, fresh out of jail, and working a janitorial job. What real bitch would want a nigga like that? I really had to do something about my situation.
“Son, getting here on time is half the battle. Now let’s get to work,” the O.G. said while taking the cleaning supplies I was holding and handing me a dust vacuum.
“You know how to use that?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” I lied. I’d never used one, but I knew I could figure it out.
“Well, get to work!”
This gig was a piece of cake. The rules were simple. Anything left on the desk, I couldn’t dare touch. I had to make sure the trash was emptied every night, vacuum, and dust. I had to clean up the bathrooms and break rooms, sweep and mop if there was a spill. There was no way I could fuck that up!
Chapter 2
All in a Day’s Work Tanisha
Clients can really stress me out, but Mr. Biggs and his wife earned the grand prize. Mr. Biggs was one of the bank’s biggest clients, as well as one of my biggest headaches. As soon as I saw him coming off the elevator, I took a fast detour into my office, quickly picked up the phone, and put it to my ear. I pulled up my computer screen and pretended to be deep in conversation with whomever was on the phone. Even though I put on an Oscar-winning performance, Mr. Biggs still rudely walked into my office and interrupted me.
“Ms. Johnson, may I speak with you for a moment?” He stood in front of my desk.
I held up one finger to signal that I’d be with him in a minute, as I wrapped up my bogus phone conversation.
“What can I do for you today, Mr. Biggs?” I tugged at my skirt as I stood up, in an attempt to lengthen it a bit.
“There are quite a few things that come to mind,” Mr. Biggs said while walking toward me. He grabbed my hand, then whispered in my ear, “When are you gonna stop playing hard to get? A little Southern beauty like you should be getting spoiled, not working hard every day as some little old bank branch manager.”
My stomach turned as I felt the heat from Mr. Biggs’s breath on my forehead. That sensation along with the combined scent of Doublemint gum and Prada cologne really made me want to vomit.
“Daddy, Daddy.” Mr. Biggs’s moment of sexual harassment was interrupted by his kids running into my office.
“Hey, Jaden. Hi, Kaylyn!” I happily greet them.
“Hi, Ms. Johnson!” They rushed into my arms, greeting me with big hugs.
“What’s going on in here?” Maria walked in with the same rude demeanor she had on a daily basis. I couldn’t figure out if she was just a miserable person or if she had a personal vendetta against me.
“Nothing, sweetheart, just discussing some last-minute business transactions with Ms. Johnson,” Mr. Biggs lied.
“Looks like a little more than talking was going on from where I was standing,” Maria said, eyeing Mr. Biggs. Then she directed her attention to me. “Are you hard of hearing, darling? Otherwise I don’t understand why you must be so close to my man when he’s speaking to you.”
More like your man is all up on me, bitch, I said in my head, but wouldn’t dare let that type of language come out of my mouth. I was much too classy to stoop to Maria’s level. I chose to ignore her comment, and turned toward Mr. Biggs. “Is there anything else you need today, Mr. Biggs? Was everything taken care of for you” I asked.
“Everything is fine, Ms. Johnson,” he replied. “As ususal,” he leaned in and whispered to me when he noticed Maria was distracted with Kaylyn.
“Well, let’s head to dinner. I’ve got reservations for us downtown. Come on, kids,” Maria snapped, getting back to Mr. Biggs and me.
“Bye, Ms. Johnson!” the kids said in unison.
“Wait a minute. Don’t forget your candy. You know Ms. Joh
nson always gives you candy.” The kids rushed over to get their lollipops.
“After dinner.” Maria snatched the candy from the kids’ hands and they all headed out the door.
I was happy to see Mr. Biggs and Maria leave, but each time I saw those little rug rats they grew on me more and more. They were the only pleasurable part of Mr. Biggs and Maria’s weekly visits. It was sad they had such a horrible person as a mother. It’s against everything I know as a Christian to talk about people, but, truth be told, I didn’t have anything nice to say about that woman. It took everything in me not to curse her out each time Maria’s snobbish behind walked in the bank, with her nose in the air looking down on everybody like she’s better than us. It’s only by God’s grace that her kids hadn’t turned out like her. They’re so cute and well mannered. I always looked forward to seeing them every week.
It was obvious Maria didn’t like me, but I guess when your man is always with another woman, you would have to be on the defensive. On the other hand, if the cheating was that bad for Maria, she could have left him a long time ago. Rumor had it, Jaden and Kaylyn weren’t Mr. Biggs’s kids anyway, so she could easily have left without any ties. I guess to some women, money was all worth it. It was customary for Mr. Biggs to flirt and make passes at women in the bank while Maria wasn’t looking, or especially if she wasn’t around, but sometimes he was bold enough to do it practically right in front of her. He’s the kind of man who just won’t take no for an answer.
