I should’ve known she would be sitting on the stoop waiting on me. We’re three years apart, but thick as thieves. I just turned thirty, she’s twenty-six, soon to be twenty-seven, on August first.
“I don’t know why I thought you would’ve gone back in the house after I talked to you earlier. You can grab the jugs of drink. I got this. I’ll come back for my bags,” I informed her.
“Oh, girl, I got it. You look great. I love your hair,” she complimented, grabbing my bags and the jugs.
I touched my hair on instinct. I’m rocking this sister twist style my stylist did for me. I can usually rock it for a at least a month before I need a shampoo. My fire red highlights stands out so damn good against my natural sandy brown hair.
“Me? Naww, love, you out here shitting on me. You did your braids? Damn, I wish I could do a lil’ bit of hair. I’mma need you to hook me up next weekend,” I boasted, honestly, causing her to blush.
She’s so talented. Her skills were birthed out of need though. It’s not her passion. Helping people is. She hates being labeled as a kitchen stylist. Now, it don’t stop her from getting her coins. She just don’t like being linked in with the ones who takes pride in hustling hair, babysitting, selling plates, and hiding their man’s stash.
“You know I do what I can. Sprinkle should be sleep. Her ass got her shit from Ocean, and haven’t been out the room yet. Seaqual just got up. Ocean trying to get her face right so she can be seen today. A head’s up, Kizzy nasty ass done been out this morning talkin’ shit. I read her ass. She claims we gonna be hating on her when she steps on the scene. You know that’s straight up bullshit,” she explained, in a rush.
Shaking my head. These hating ass scallywags gonna learn one day.
“Mama told me not to fight today. I told’er I make no promises. I ain’t tryin’ to go to jail today. Them hoes better receive subliminal messages, and go find some damn business,” I added, following her up on the stoop.
“Fa’ real, fa’ real,” she agreed, opening the front door.
“Hey, Preshus,” Seaqual spoke, from the sectional.
“Hey, handsome. I missed you. Wha’cha watching?”
“I am handsome, huh? The Chipmunks,” he answered, chuckling some.
“Yes, you are. Are you hungry?” I asked, giggling.
He’s so cute. He looks like a younger Chris Brown with hair.
“Yes, ma’am. Neesha stopped me from eating cereal and wouldn’t tell me why. She know I need my vitamins. Now, I’m glad I didn’t. What you bring?” He questioned, walking into the kitchen.
“I got a little bit of everything,” I answered, unpacking the Styrofoam containers.
“Damn, it’s still warm. Seaqual, go wash your hands. I’ll fix your food,” Neesha stated.
“Okay, be right back,” he called out, running to the bathroom.
“You did his hair? I love the curls. He’s gotten so big. He’s gonna be taller than you soon,” I acknowledged.
“Yeah, I know. Every time I look at him, my heart cries. He’s such a special boy. He’s so smart. He’s gonna be something great. I wish I knew who his daddy is. For some reason, I feel like he’ll want to know Seaqual,” she added.
“You are doing a great job with him. Why do you feeling like that?” I praised, and questioned, quietly.
She shrugged at first then,
“He isn’t anyone from around here. When Sprinkle got pregnant, well, I calculated back to about the time she would have gotten pregnant. Sprinkle wasn’t here, she was gone out of town. I’m not saying he’s some upstanding man. But I do know she went out of town for an escorting gig. That escort could be his father. But of course, I don’t know who he is, and the drugs done fried her damn brain cells,” she explained quickly, and just in time.
“Okay, my hands are clean. I’m hungry,” Seaqual announced, walking in the kitchen, taking a seat at the table.
“I gotcha, Bubba. Here you go,” she stated, sitting a big plate of food before him.
“Yess! Thank you! God is good, God is great. Thank you, God, for my plate. Bless this food, bless my people, bless my body. Amen,” he prayed, before digging in.
I couldn’t say a thing. He blessed his food, that’s all that matters. Neesha and I followed suit, fixing our plates, then taking our seats. We never drink and eat. So, the jugs of juice are chilling in the fridge.
Saying grace, I dug in. Next to working, I love eating. I can cook with the best of them. My mama cussed me out plenty of days when she was giving me a cooking lesson, but I wanted to be outside on the basketball court. I wasn’t all that good, I just loved to shoot the ball around. With my height and weight, plenty thought I would be a beast on the court. But it wasn’t my calling.
“You ready to have fun today, Seaqual?” I asked, after a few beats.
We all are halfway through our plates. Neesha never eats a lot. Gaining weight is easy for us both. Since her mother and my mother were siblings, we share similar physical make ups. I hit the gym on a regular. She does when she can. Being six one, and two hundred and seventy-five pounds, makes me one big ass woman. Neesha is about five seven, five eight, and two hundred and fifteen pounds.
“Yes, ma’am. I saved my allowance so I can play the games. The food is always free. But you know, um, Big Jake be out with his boiled peanuts. I don’t know what he puts on them, but I’m hooked. I’m buying two bags,” he answered, partially bouncing in his seat, smiling hard.
He’s so adorable, you can’t help but smile.
“I gots to get me a bag. Thanks for reminding me,” I added.
“I’ll get you one,” he offered.
“Okay,” I conceded with a wink, causing him to laugh.
“You’ll get to do all that today, Bubba. Ocean, you can’t speak?” Neesha spat.
I heard her room door open. I also saw her as she walked through the living room to the kitchen. I wasn’t calling her ass out on shit. Ocean will make you lose yo damn religion.
Ocean smacked her teeth.
“Um, hey,” she mumbled, without pausing in fixing her food.
“You ungrateful, heffa. You ain’t open yah mouth and speak, then yah ass is called out you mumbled some bullshit. But yah ass ain’t paused in fixing the food that the person yo rude ass can’t speak to, brought. I outta make you put it back,” Neesha fussed, staring at Ocean.
Ocean started giggling, while shaking her head like she’s not understanding.
“You really need to calm down, Neesha. It ain’t that damn serious. I mean, really. You ain’t my mama. Plus, Preshus is a big time baller, she can afford to feed us less fortunate cousins. She takes pride in being able to feed the po’ folk. Ain’t that right, cuzzin?” She sassed, hitting me with a smirk.
Leaning back in my chair, I eyed her as she leaned against the counter smacking on a piece of bacon. She can’t stand me, I know it. She thought I would, or should, spend money on her. Buying her whatever she wanted just because I had the money to do it. I was never rewarded for bad behavior, bad grades, and not doing what I’m posed to do. I’m the same way now. I be damned if I rewarded her ass fa’ the bullshit she does. I reward Seaqual though.
Humming a little to myself then,
“Go find yah ass some shit to do, before you piss me off. You sound ignorant as hell. Ain’t nobody in this bitch poor. You need to sit back and take notes. Yah ass running up yah body count without shit to show fo’ it. Lesson one to the unwise… Bussin’ it open fa’ a hairstyle, nails, ah fit, or the new Jordan’s, ain’t getting yo paper. It’s coins. You ah dime a dozen trick, you don’t stand out from none of the other hoes who fucks for a come up,” I read her ass.
Seaqual was smiling all hard. He doesn’t care for Ocean. On more than one occasion she’s called him retarded, and even joined in when he was being bullied.
She leaned up off the counter, trying to appear unaffected by my words. I know better though. She looked from Neesha to me. She knows Neesha ain’t about to take up fa’ he
r ass. Neesha has fought so much for her, she lost count, and her ass don’t appreciate it.
She made a clucking sound in the back of her throat then,
“Whatever, I guess you the bitch I should be taking lessons from, huh? You managed to shake yo ass out the projects. How many niggas you fucked in them private rooms? How bout you give me a reference down at the ‘Nasty Kitty?’ I’m ready to make my own duckets. You know, be like my big cousin,” she sassed, smartly.
“You too damn ignorant to do what the fuck I did. Baby girl, I didn’t fuck no one for a damn dollar. I knew my worth. I know my worth now. My pussy is priceless. Unlike yo two for the price of one special. You wanna be like me? Get yo grades right. Take yah ass to college. In case you forgot, I got two degrees, with owning my own shit. It ain’t got a damn thing that yo illiterate ass can say to me that I haven’t heard before. Go find Jesus and pray, before you meet him in person,” I spat, standing from my seat.
She knows me. I don’t usually talk this much. I would’ve busted her in the mouth two paragraphs ago. She knows how to work a damn nerve.
“Pssh,” was all she said, walking out the with her plate.
“Seaqual, you finished? Get something to drink, then take a shower. Your clothes hanging on the back of your door,” Neesha stated.
“Ok, Neesha. You got me looking fresh to death, right?” He asked, standing.
“Yeah, Bubba,” she answered, giggling.
“That was good. Thank you, Preshus, for everything. You just made my day. And don’t pay attention to Ocean, she don’t know any better,” he stated, throwing his plate in the trash before hugging me since I never retook my seat.
Holding him to me, I turned us, giving Neesha my back. Reaching in my bra, I pulled the fifty out, handing it to him. He didn’t even look at it, he just stuffed it in the pocket of his sleep pants. I keep him with stuff. He’s my little brother. I’ve actually had to put alarms on his stuff, so his mama, or Ocean, won’t sell it. Neesha buys his ass things before she buys for herself. When his Medicaid wouldn’t cover his insulin shots and breathing machine for his asthma, I brought the machine and his medicine for a year. Then told the pharmacy when it’s time for his refills, to contact me directly, unless there’s a change.
Neesha was about to sell her car to get what he needed. I wasn’t about to let her do that.
“Thank you, Preshus. You the best. I love you,” he told me, giving me one more squeeze, before releasing me to fix his self something to drink.
“Preshus,” Neesha called.
“Huh?” I answered, turning trying to look innocent.
“Huh hell? Wha’cha doing?” She asked, with her eyebrow raised.
Shrugging my shoulders, I threw my plate away, then started cleaning up the containers, instead of answering her.
“You so full of shit,” she snipped, before giggling, then helping me.
I’ll be that. No matter what, she won’t be struggling. She wanna be here for Seaqual, so he can be close to his mama and so she can save Ocean, then so be it. She’s already sacrificed a lot for her siblings, it’s time for her to shine.
Three hours later…...
“It’s hotter than the underside of the second roll on a big nigga back out this bitch. Damn, being naked wouldn’t even help,” I complained, sipping on one of Neesha’s thottie juices.
She makes these damn things. She uses different flavors of Jack Daniel’s wine coolers, Vodka, fresh fruit, and a little juice. She blends them together, then freezes them, after pouring them in these little plastic pouch things that resemble Capri Sun juice pouches. They are tasty, and will get you fucked up if you don’t sip slow. It gives gutless hoes a false sense of bravery though. She sells them for five to seven dollars, depending on if she likes yah ass or not.
“Shit, you ain’t never lied. I think my thong just dissolved. I’m close to running though that damn slip-n-slid,” Neesha stated, sipping on her own drink.
“You should’ve went with the summer dress you had out, the um, yellow short one,” I added.
“No can do. I can’t fight in a dress. I mean, I can, but I ain’t trying to sho’ all of LSC my ass and shit. Yes, somebody will be catching these hands before the day is over. Summer time brings out the freaks and fools,” she added.
Giggling as I eyed her loosely fitted shorts with the holes in them along with the crop top. Neesha don’t wear booty shorts. She has some class to her, unlike her sister, who looks like she got on a panty and bra matching set in jean material.
“Well, you rocking yo fit. Where you get all that ass from?” I boasted, dancing a little.
“Shit, the same place I got this gut, thighs, and titties from. I get it from my cuzzin. You shittin’ on these hoes, fa’ real, fa’ real. And I know you in yo dress downs,” she bragged, twerking a little.
“Aye! You betta! They ain’t ready!” I cheered, causing her to dance harder.
My #SwitchItUp, red tank top, along with my jean short shorts that’s falling a little under my ass cheeks, my fanny pack, that’s resting on the side of my ass, along with my canvas K*Swiss, got me feeling myself.
“Do that shit, Preshus! They can’t witchu,” she yelled, as I slow wined, while balancing on the ball of my feet.
The DJ started playing music about an hour and a half ago. Neesha said this is just the warm up for the main event, whatever the fuck that posed to mean.
“Oh my God! What the fuck is this shit? The big bitches dance convention or summthing?” A voice walking passed us called out.
Neesha and I stopped dancing.
“I told you that runaway slave head ass, bitch, was gonna run her nut suckers. Brawd do anything to be seen and heard. Scary ass, trick,” Neesha spat.
“Fuck you, Neesha! Ain’t nobody worried bout yo fake ass, or yo stuck up ass cuzzin. You act like a bitch that ain’t never had shit!” Kizzy hollered out.
“Says the bitch with her daughter’s shirt on. Yah ass needs yo ass whupped fa’ that one. Baby girl in the house crying, cuz you got on her favorite shirt. Kizzy, go play in traffic, before yah ass be meeting Kunta. Bitch, you don’t want it wit me. Tuck yah tail, go bout yo business,” I barked, causing a few people’s heads to turn.
“You done put her on blast. She finna get real ignit,” Neesha mumbled, leaning up from the trunk of my car.
I moved my car so we could be in the midst of everything. This way, we can see Seaqual and his little friends.
“Bitch, puhleeze, all that hate got you trying to pull my card. You wish you could be as fine and small as me. Take notes, Big Bertha,” she cackled, posing.
Standing straight up, she and her cronies took a step back. They ain’t even that damn close to us.
“Hating?” I questioned, like the word was foreign to me.
Looking down at myself like I can’t remember what I got on.
“Damn, she got a phat ass,” some dude hollered out.
They rolled their eyes. I chose to ignore it.
“The day I hate on you will be the day Beyoncé wears her real hair on stage. You are looking at six feet one inches of pure, unadulterated sexiness. I’m a fucking stallion. Yah ass is a meerkat, Timon. Don’t even form yo crusty ass lips to try and talk shit to me. You wish yo malnourished ass had an ounce of what the fuck I got. Go take several seats, before I really hurt yo feelings,” I taunted, dancing a little, while running my hand over my body.
“Girl, I know you ain’t taking that shit from her ass,” one of them birds cackled.
“Yeah, run up on that bitch, we got yo back. She ain’t shit,” another cackled.
“Unless yah ass ready to commit suicide, you better ignore them two hyenas that’s lying to yo ass. I can promise yo ass when you on the way to meet Jesus, they gonna be on the way to meet the devil. Hating hoes ain’t gonna help yah ass anyway,” I warned.
They all glared at me like they gonna jump bad.
“Broke ass TLC, y’all betta go chase a damn waterfall, before yah ass be d
rowning in one. Fuck wha’chu heard,” Neesha snapped.
Females gas me, talking about my size. Shit, I’m not small. I will never be small. My dad stood at six foot five inches. My mom is five feet nine inches, and thick. My body is courtesy of her. There wasn’t no back fat or love handles on my body. I stay toned. My size twenty is beautiful. Whoever said you got to be skin and bones, or be a size six to be sexy, lied.
She was about to say something that’ll cause her to lose her life. But loud music pulled her attention, along with many others. A caravan of black on black SUV’s pulled into the court.
“Damn, Stone got the whole fleet with his ass. Today maybe my lucky day,” Kizzy’s hoe ass sung out, while digging her drawls out her ass, before switching off.
“I know her hand is stank as fuck. Nasty ass,” I mumbled, while shaking my head.
“The fuck is a Stone?” I asked, confused.
Neesha turned real slow with a smirk on her lips.
“One of the most oddly looking, sexy, ruthless, kind hearted, paid, demented, King of the fucking Hood,” she answered, matter of fact.
Something shot through me a feeling. I’ve never felt before. Almost a need to meet the man she just described. Shit, what am I setting myself up for?
Ryco a.k.a. Stone
BONNKKK! BONNKKK!
“What the fuck?” I mumbled, while walking to my window.
BONNKKK! BONNKKK!
“I’m shooting me a muthafucka,” I grumbled, lifting the window.
“What?” I barked.
“Bring yo ass, muthafucka!”
“Banks, I swear, I’mma shoot yo ass fa’ this fuck shit. When I say I’m coming, I’m coming? Don’t fucking rush me. Blowing and shit,” I spat.
“Yo confused lookin’ ass ain’t’ gonna do shit. Bring yo non driving ass the fuck on,” he yelled back.
Flicking his aggy ass off, I slammed my window down, locking it.
“Fuck him, slaw bastard,” I grumbled, walking round my townhouse, gathering my shit.
Nigga lucky I’m the only one who lives here. I don’t do neighbors and shit. Nosy muthafuckas make my nuts itch. I’m fresh as fuck fa’ today. This the fifth annual out of school bash. I throw two, twice a year, plus, I do Fourth of July cookouts. I set LSC on fire and keep’em happy. The kids, the residents, and the fucking law. I’m the only muthafucka in history to own some government shit.
King of the Hood Page 3
