Dre should have followed Rhonda’s lead, but she was closer to Kareem. Besides that, Dre fled his suburban environment to take part in teenage hustling. He was to be like the teenage boys from North Philadelphia, and not his cousin, who had just graduated from high school. Many of Dre’s peers were forced to choose between selling drugs and starving, and Dre fell right in line with them, even though he wanted for nothing. Whenever he could, he did sling crack-rocks on the corner, and offered to their community a chief cause of its deterioration.
Dre had dropped Dawn off at Renee’s shabby two-bedroom duplex and hit the block. He had a measly $100, which he used to buy an 8-ball (two and a half grams) of crack. By the end of his shift, he hoped to have $200 to hold him over until the next week.
***
Shortly after 5:30 p.m., Dre had finished dealing his package. He went inside Aunt Renee’s house to get Dawn, because he had to beat his parents home. Aunt Renee greeted him dressed in dingy tights and a T shirt with a mustard stain.
“Hey, Aunt Renee,” Dre said and gave her a hug. He ignored her street stench.
“Don’t hey me. You got something for me. I did babysit.”
“Babysit? I seriously doubt you watched her, rather than the other way around. He quipped and then added, “I ain’t got nuttin’.”
“No, I seriously doubt you want me to get my baby sis on the line. Delores would love to know that not only were you down here, but you were dealing rocks. You know that she doesn’t want you down here, and definitely not Dawn, down here in this ghetto.”
Dre could not believe her gall. He gave in, though. Delores would spit fire like a volcano if she even thought he went to the hood, much less took Dawn there. That would force her to draw blood. He tossed Renee $20 and tried to leave.
“Twenty-dollars? What am I supposed to do with this, but call my little sister and tell her that you were selling rocks? She’d love that.”
Dre tossed her another twenty and she tucked them both into her pockets. She said, “That’s better. Now get to that bus station and get home. The bus leaves every ten minutes.”
Dre grabbed Dawn’s hand and walked to the bus station. He could not believe that his Aunt Renee had blackmailed him. She had practically extorted him of his small come up, and he hated that. He was now short to get the Kobe sneakers that he wanted.
CHAPTER 4
Forty-minutes later, Dre walked into his house and thought, perfect, they’re not home yet. He thanked God for rush hour traffic, which undoubtedly stalled them. He unhooked the game from the TV, double-checked the stained carpet, and sat down with Dawn to play Uno.
About ten minutes later, Delores and Eli arrived home together. Um, that’s strange, Dre thought.
“You’re home rather early,” Dre said to them.
“Boy, I got a darn flat on the highway. Eli had to come get me,” Delores said. She kicked off her clogs and plopped onto the sofa.
“That must’ve been fun,” Dre said as he watched Dawn run and curl up under their mother.
“Mom!” Dawn sang and played with Delores’ stethoscope. “Hi, baby. What did you to today?”
“Nothing,” she responded, and then corrected herself, “I
played with Quaron.” Oh shit, Dre thought.
“With who?” Eli asked, now tuned in. He usually kept his mouth shut, but he was on full alert for this conversation.
“Quaron and Aunt Renee,” Dawn replied as Dre crept up the stairs.
“Andre Jamel Bezel, don’t even think about it,” Delores snapped, and stood. She placed her hand on her hip, and asked, “You took your ass and my daughter to Renee’s?”
“Yup,” Dawn chimed in, adding gasoline to the wood that she had perfectly laid out.
“Mom, we, well I, only wanted to chill with Aunt Renee before school started.”
“To chill, huh,” Eli chimed in.
“Boy, I’ve told you repeatedly not to go down there. I know you ran the streets while Dawn did God knows what,” Delores said, inching closer to him.
“Me and Quaron played in the yard, and Aunt Renee said that Dre only sold rocks, so he gave her money to watch me,” Dawn said and tossed the match to set the fire. She then added, “Isn’t my brother nice, mommy,” hugging Dre. She had no idea that she had written his death warrant.
“Sold rocks!” Delores roared. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Dawn, go play with your Barbie set,” Eli said to Dawn.
Delores went on. “I do not believe this. I’ve always known why I did not want you down there. I was afraid that this would happen. You’d end up selling drugs and be just like ya sorry ass father in jail. I can’t believe that you would follow in Dope’s footsteps.”
“You want Jordan’s, we buy them. New clothes, we buy that, too. Fifty-dollar games, we also buy that. All so you’d never sell drugs or commit any other crime. You live in this big ass house, full of whatever you want. What were you thinking?” Eli asked. His voice was preacher-like and grave. He couldn’t believe that he had to give that sermon.
“Look,” Dre said with venom, “I have nothing to say other than I don’t want to be a rich, snobby little punk. A soft ass nigga.”
The back slap delivered to Dre by the Delores Express forced him to stumble backwards. She snatched her stethoscope from around her neck and dared Dre to swing back. His face stung and was full of anger. His eyes filled with tears.
“You think being a ghetto sucka makes you hard? Selling drugs, shooting, thefts, robbery. You know what all of that shit leads, too? The damn grave. That’s what is wrong with you black men now. Everybody wants to be a gangster, thug, goon, as opposed to an attorney, doctor, policeman. Intelligence, common sense, and respect for others are taboo. Or, as you put it, traits of a snobby soft ass nigga. You do not want for shit. I bust my ass to assure that, and this is how you repay me!”
She pushed him hard and he slammed into the wall. The tears formed in his eyes and began to fall. He slouched down to the floor, and sat there dumbfounded.
“I’ll say this one more time, do-not-ever-fucking-go-down- to-that-ghetto-again! Do you understand me?”
Dre sat there and ignored her. He was pissed. That quickly changed when Delores bent over and was nose to nose with him.
“Do you fucking understand me, Dre?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah!” Delores mocked him. She was fuming. She stood and said, “Stand up and empty your pockets.” “For what?”
“Empty your damn pockets before I slap fire outta ya ass.”
Dre emptied his pockets of their contents: two female numbers, a wallet, condom, $160, and a number for his dealer, Ice.
“Oh, so Ice been selling you work?” Delores asked, and remembered that Ice used to deal with Dope, Dre’s father.
“No, mom,” Dre said somberly. He was glad that she had found someone else to blame.
“Go to your room and bring me all electronics. That’s it for now, until I can think of something else.”
“What are you going to do to Ice?” Dre asked, headed towards the stairs.
“None of your damn business.”
Dre stood there, and looked at her puzzled.
“Goodbye,” she said, waving her son off.
Dre retreated to his room and pondered how he’d get out of the house and move to Jean-Mary’s.
She didn’t have to hit and curse me. Yes, I cursed, but she’s the adult and supposed to be more restrained. If she hits me again, I’ll...Well nothing, but take it like a man. And Eli has some damn nerve. I would’ve fucked him up had he even gotten into my face. This is some nut ass shit, and she kept my fucking money. Fuck that! I am not taking anything down there until I get my money.
“Andre, bring me my shit, before I come up there!” Delores yelled.
Dre ignored her.
The school bus reached the West Conshohocken on-ramp to the Schuykill Expressway and Kareem exited with six other students. The other kids made their way to their
homes, and he walked into the opposite direction toward the Marriott Hotel and an adjacent corporate building. He walked across a bridge that separated West Conshohocken from Conshohocken and boarded the SEPTA regional rail headed back to Philadelphia. A half hour later, he switched trains, just like Jean-Mary had taught him, and headed to Wayne Junction station in Germantown.
CHAPTER 5
One school bus, two trains, and two hours later, Kareem felt as if they had passed through a time warp. He walked the two blocks to his grandmother’s three-bedroom row home, which resembled the rest of the homes on the street. He carried copies of GQ and The Robb Report magazines, both of which he found on the train. They were left by one of the businessmen on the train, and he kindly took them.
Kareem’s street was lined with trees filled with squirrels and bird’s nests. The houses along the street had manicured lawns and porches, unlike most of the Philadelphia homes. The Germantown section was considered, “Uptown,” and many associated the word up with more opulent living. After his experience today, he knew what opulent was and Germantown was not it. He would no longer settle for being in an alleged good neighborhood. He planned to move to one.
He walked to the front door and turned the doorknob. The door was unlocked, and he walked in and found Jean-Mary in her recliner. She was taking a cat nap with her puzzle book dangling from her palm. She welcomed her grandson home and instantly inquired about his first day. He was eager to tell her, but had to grab a glass of orange juice.
Returning to the living room, Kareem sat on the arm of Jean-Mary’s brown recliner, which matched the worn brown sofa and love seat. The living room window was large and covered with cream Venetian blinds that he cleaned in the tub. The faux-wood entertainment center housed a twenty-inch television, VCR, and a cable box. Kareem went on about his classes, teachers, classmates, and the ride from school.
He finished his fairy tale and asked what was for dinner.
“Well, I am glad that you had a good day, and we are having your favorite: goulash.”
“Perfect,” Kareem responded, grabbed his book bag and retreated to his sanctuary.
Anyone that entered Kareem’s bedroom would know that he had a fetish for perfection and neatness. Everything was tidy and well arranged. It was here that he often read books and occasionally volumes of the encyclopedia set that was in the dining room. He also played Nintendo on a 15-inch black and white TV.
Jean-Mary had bought many magazines at the supermarket checkout counter, and Kareem often read the contents. Now, from the train, he had GQ and Robb Report to add to his arsenal. Before doing his homework, he skimmed through the magazines and vowed to read them later.
Kareem turned on his word processor to do his homework. He had a Brother with a computer-like monitor and the capability to save material onto a disk. He grabbed five discs and named them: English, Biology, Algebra, Spanish, and European Civilizations. He planned to use the discs to store his notes and he planned to turn in all of his assignments typed, so that he could impress his teachers. He lived in the ghetto, but no one had to know that.
He started with vocabulary, moved onto Algebra and then Biology. Upper Merion was not like any of the Philadelphia schools. Students were immediately put to work. In English, Kareem was given the book, To Kill A Mockingbird. Students were scheduled to discuss the first chapter later that week. He figured that he would read during the morning commute to keep the material fresh in his mind.
After finishing his homework, Kareem cracked open the GQ Magazine. Just as he dug into the advertisements, Jean- Mary summoned him to the kitchen for dinner. He brought his homework, so that she could review it. He often wondered if Jean-Mary was so loving and kind to her own children like she was toward him, why had they basically neglected her.
With the exception of James “Dope” Bezel, none of her children had been around or called, except Betsey, but she had died a few years back. He wondered why the others were missing in action, and once asked her about it. She had chalked it up to ignorance. He hated their actions, and planned to take over for all of them. For some reason, he felt sorry for her, and showered her with love as payment for her being there for him and loving him unconditionally.
After dinner they went into the living room and battled each other at Jeopardy and then Wheel of Fortune. At eight o’clock Wheel of Fortune went off and Kareem dashed to his room. He took a shower and then relished the magazines. From beginning to end, he basked in the well-appointed, cultured, and sophisticated magazine designed for wealthy men. He was most impressed with the fashion spreads in GQ. GQ exposed him to style and grooming tips that he had not learned from Dope. He had no idea such a magazine existed for men. Jean- Mary had subscriptions to three of the magazines aimed at African-Americans: Ebony, Jet, and Essence. He read them and thought of the fashion reward in women’s fashion. GQ had taught him that men’s fashion was equally lucrative.
Nine o’clock rolled around and Jean-Mary walked up to his room. He was alerted by the creaks the wood steps made.
She joined him and asked, “What ya reading, young man?” She had a warm smile on her face.
“Oh, just a GQ Magazine,” he responded matter-of-factly.
“Just a GQ Magazine, huh? What does a young man know about GQ?” Jean-Mary asked and wondered where he had gotten the magazine.
“Mama, a young man knows a lot. I know that I should be getting weekly messages to unwind, facials to stay youthful looking, and manicures and pedicures. I thought they were for chicks only.”
“Oh, really.”
“A good cologne and a power tie that says that I mean business, as well.”
“Sounds like you need a job.”
“No. Not a J O B.”
“Boy, you better not be thinking of selling no drugs like ya daddy. You see where he is for life. Don’t do it.”
“Mama, a career doing something that I like. Not street pharmacists either.”
“Oh! Sorry. Did GQ teach you that?”
“No, that was Time Magazine.”
“Boy, you’re too grown.”
“And handsome, smart. No, really smart. And don’t forget the best grandson in the land.”
Through laughter, Jean-Mary responded, “Okay, bed time, Mr. Kareem GQ Bezel.”
She kissed him on the forehead and they said their night prayers. After exchanging good nights, Jean-Mary left his room and thought about the special jewel that she had in the back bedroom.
CHAPTER 6
Throughout the week, Kareem enjoyed the serenity each morning as he was beamed up to King of Prussia. He wondered if he would be able to relocate to the ‘burbs later in life.
In his Gym class, he had been selected to participate in swimming and over the past two days, he had stared uncontrollably at Latoya Eala. Finally, she had caught his sexy eye contact and walked over to him. Without asking, she joined him on the edge of the pool.
“So, Kareem, are you going to speak, or just continue to undress me with your eyes?” she asked him boldly.
Kareem’s eyes widened into headlights. He had to come back just as strong. “Latoya, I’d never undress you without permission. The cops call that rape. I have been admiring you, though.”
“Cute for a hood boy, but I am Toi. Only my parents call me Latoya when they’re mad at me.”
“Okay, Toi, I am Reem, and not a hood boy. More like a young man.”
“Well, young man, I’ve sort of been admiring you, too.”
“So, I’ve been told. Now that that’s out the way, can I get the digits to get to know that girl that I have been undressing?”
“Depends.”
“On.”
“Me being the only girl that gives you her number.
Especially considering that there are quite a few girls that want it.”
“Deal!” Kareem said quickly.
The two teens exited the pool and walked towards the gym teacher’s office. Kareem enjoyed the close-up of her slim, nicely developed st
ature. Her backside and breasts giggled like gelatin in her bikini. Toi entered the office to grab a pen as Kareem waited outside. She came out of the office and stared at his pecs, then his six pack, and finally down to the bulge in his trunks. They exchanged numbers and promised to call each other later that night.
Later, after fourth period English, Mr. Burns kept Kareem after class. He complimented him on how impressed he was with his weekly vocabulary assignment. Kareem had turned in typed definitions, sentences, and a short story using each of the words. To be held after class was a true testament to Kareem’s intellect. Kareem thought, wait until he is treated to the stem- cell research article that I am writing for the newspaper group assignment.
***
Riding the train home, Kareem wondered what it was like to be wealthy enough to shop carelessly. So, when he arrived at the Market East Station in downtown Philadelphia, rather than wait on the train platform to board the next train, Kareem strolled through the Gallery Mall. At the end of the mall was the Strawbridge’s department store. Kareem walked through the men’s department and was quite impressed with the labels the chain carried: Polo Ralph Lauren, Nautica, DKNY, Claiborne, all labels featured in GQ.
Just as he savored the moment, he realized that his connecting train arrived in four minutes. Kareem raced through the mall and arrived at the train platform in the nick of time.
A half hour later, Kareem entered his home and found Jean-Mary completing a 1,000-word puzzle on the dining room table. Under the table cloth she had several completed puzzles. This was a hobby of hers, along crossword puzzles and crocheting. Rather than disturb her, he greeted her with a kiss on the forehead, grabbed some home-made cookies and then went to his room to complete his homework. That was a priority.
Jean-Mary wrapped up her puzzle and prepared dinner. There was leftover goulash, but she hated leftovers, so she fried chicken and cut up whole potatoes for home fries.
Later, Kareem walked to the corner store to buy a newspaper. He purchased a Philadelphia Inquirer, and watched the Chinese store owner fire the hired help. Kareem seized the advantage of being at the right place at the right time, and was hired on to spot to sweep, mop and stock the store after school daily. He enthusiastically jetted home and went directly into the kitchen.
First Laugh Page 2
