Chapter Four #4
“Aight.” He bobbed his head to catch the beat. “Yea, you heard it all before, so why you still here? All that nagging and shit, crying in a nigga’s ear. Yea, I let the sun beat me home, so now what you gone do? I’m a choosin’ ass nigga, better be lucky I came home to you.”
“See, I heard it all befoooore,” Spice belted with a smile on her face. “Baby, let me explain, that’s what you said to me.”
“Let me get the living room for a minute,” Logic requested, sliding his ashtray from under the couch.
“Not you interrupting my concert.”
“Ain’t like you can sing anyway.”
“Oop, see, if you wasn’t my brother, I'd-
“You wouldn’t do shit. Get out.” He waved her off.
“Fine, make sure you light a candle,” Spice reminded him before moving on to her next chore.
“Aight.”
Picking up the piece of leftover blunt from the ashtray, Logic lit the tip and inhaled.
The first puff tasted like ashes, but the second hit tasted like Detroit’s finest. On the third hit, Logic opened the folder and spread the contents on the table.
DTE, Consumer Energy, and phone bills stared back at him.
The low-income apartment they stayed in wasn’t in the best location or condition, but Logic was grateful that he had the money to pay their bills and a roof over their head.
There was a time when he robbed Peter to pay Paul, but those days were long gone.
Logic would sell pills, weed, and just about anything else to make sure their heads stay above water.
He didn’t want his siblings to worry about where their next meal or everyday necessities were coming from. That was his job.
Removing the money from the rubber band, Logic counted out the correct amount and paper-clipped it to the bill.
His way of paying bills was old school as fuck, but it was the way his mama taught him.
He’d later get money orders and send out the payments.
Once that part was taken care of, Logic pulled out the envelopes with his siblings' names imprinted across the front.
He placed $100.00 in each one, bringing their bi-weekly allowance to $250.
00. Pushing them to the side, Logic then counted out $1000.
00 for their savings account and put the remaining $90. 00 in his pocket.
“Yo, yo.” Al tapped on the screen door before pulling it open. “Why is the door always open? You live in the middle of King projects, my boy. This ain’t Beverly Hills.”
“'Cause you the only person who's dumb enough to walk in my fucking crib,” Logic snorted, putting everything back in its proper place.
“Ole nerdy ass nigga.”
“Fuck outta here. I still pull bitches with my bifocals on.”
“You the only nigga I know that still pay bills like this. Set up some online accounts.” Al picked up a stack of bills before dropping them on the table. “You look like somebody's blind granddaddy.”
“Mind your business.” Logic gathered everything, placing it back in the folder. “What you doing up this early?”
“Making moves, nigga. Don’t shit come to a sleeper but wet dreams and nightmares. I don’t like either.”
“Ole motivational speaker ass nigga,” Logic jested.
“Yea, yea, but check this, I got you a studio session with Rah,” Al grinned.
“Who?”
“Southwest Rah!”
“You bullshitting.”
“Never that. So, you know I been fucking with ole girl on Downriver.”
“Shorty with the keloid dangling from her lip?” Logic asked. “You fucking her?”
“You worried about the wrong shit,” Al grunted. “Yea, I'm fucking her and ain’t shit wrong with the pussy. Maybe that’s what you need.”
“What? A chick with a bump on her lip?”
“It’s not a bump, it’s a keloid, and no, that's not what I'm talking about. You need a bitch with a handicap. Get you a chick with one leg or something, and if she gets to acting like Scottie hoe ass, you can unscrew all the bolts and hide them all around the house. Have her hopping around this bitch looking for pieces like a scavenger hunt.”
“You stupid as fuck,” Logic laughed out loud.
“Or you could get a mute. Nontalking hoes can’t complain.”
“I’m straight.”
“Just saying.” Al hunched his shoulders. “Anyway, shorty gets to telling me that she’s friends with Rahlo’s wife best friend.”
“You pillow talking?”
“That’s not important and nigga let me finish my story.”
“You taking too long to get to the point.” Logic snapped his fingers. “Hurry yo long-winded ass up.”
“Fuck you,” Al chuckled. “So anyway, I was telling her how you were about to blow the fuck up, and I showed her a couple of your YouTube videos. Shorty was impressed as fuck and started asking me if you were signed because she personally knows Rah is looking for artists. So I flipped her ass over, beat the pussy up, and then asked her to slide your name in a conversation. And boom! This morning, I got a text from an unknown number with an address to the studio.”
“How you know the shit legit?” Logic cocked his head to the side.
“Because I’m a real ass nigga and I followed up on the lead.”
“Oh, ok, Detective Stabler.”
“I been watching Law & Order with granny, shit got me in a chokehold. Just know that if you ever come up missing, I could find you in the first forty-eight hours. So, yea, I called the number this morning and Rah picked up.”
“Straight up?” A smile pulled at the corner of Logic’s lips.
“Straight up!” Al nodded. “I started to text you but figured I’d deliver the message in person. I have some shit to take care of but get your mind right because we’re stepping into the big leagues.”
“When?” Logic’s voice came out hoarse. “When are we going to the studio?”
“Nigga don’t start that nervous shit. Rah booked a session for next Saturday. I figured that would give you time to get off that weird I can’t rap in front of people shit.”
“Fuck you.” Logic gave him the finger. “You taking this manager shit seriously, huh?”
“The fuck, you thought I wouldn’t? When you make it, I make it.”
“Nah, I know you would.”
“Oh, and this is for you.” AL handed him an envelope. “We got eight bands off the truck. I gave Brandi hoe ass 2 and we got 2.5. I had to pay the little people for unloading the truck.”
“Sweet.”
“And I fucked her off GP. Bitches don’t cut me off. I do the cutting.”
“Why you messing with that girl?” Logic chuckled.
“She better be lucky I gave her dick instead of sending my young niggas in there to ransack her house and take them stacks back.”
“Nigga, you hell.”
“That’s what my mama said before she dropped my ass off at the shelter.”
“Bye, goofy ass nigga.” Logic stretched out his hand to give Al dap and he left as smoothly as he came.
Picking up the stack of money, Logic sat back and tapped it against the palm of his hand. Three bands wasn’t much, but it was going to ensure all their bills were paid through the summer, and he’d still have money to take the troops school shopping when the season rolled around.
“Fuck yea,” he whispered.
“Aye bro,” Sage called out, walking back into the living room with the phone pressed to his ear. “Mama on the phone, she wanna holler at you.”
“Tell her to go holler at Friends of the Court,” Logic snorted.
“She said they coming to town and wanted to stop by.”
“Sage, if you gone talk to your mama, take that shit in the room. Don’t tell me shit she talking about, and if they stop by here, I'mma have Al rob they scamming asses.”
“Period, cause we ain’t got no words for them folks,” Shugg cosigned with her big brother.
Like him, their mother abandoning them left a bad taste in the twins' mouths. Spice and Shugg didn’t fuck around, and the one time their mother came to town, the twins didn’t bother coming out of their room.
Sage, on the other hand, loved his mama and tried to reason with her leaving.
He was a mama’s boy at heart, and as long as she was calling, he was going to answer.
“Take yo cheating ass in there and finish cleaning up.” Logic waved her off.
“I’m done,” Shugg sucked her teeth.
“Then go make some flashcards or something.”
“Flashcards?” She frowned but quickly held her hands up in defense when he glared at her. “You know what, flashcards sound good to me.”
???
“Sing with me, Tyler girl.” Maple danced around the kitchen. “I gave you all the love I got, I gave you more than I could give.”
“Gave you love,” Tyler sang into the spoon. “I gave you all that I have inside and you took my loveeeeee. You took my loveeee.”
“That’s my baby!” Maple picked up her drink. “Voice like an angel, strong voice like ya mama.”
“You wish,” Tyrell joked, stepping into the small kitchen wearing a pair of basketball shorts and a tank top. “My baby got her own voice.” He nicked Tyler’s chin. She giggled before wrapping her arms around his waist. “Tell your mama you sound better than her.”
“I can’t say that.” Tyler giggled.
“You trying to say I can’t sing?” Maple whirled around, placing her hand on her hip.
“Never that.” He licked his lips, releasing Tyler. “I love when you hit those high notes.”
“See you playing.” She tried to move around him, but Tyrell grabbed her by the waist and pulled her body into his. Wrapping her in his arms, he placed kisses on her neck, sending chills down her spine.
“Sing,” Tyrell whispered against her ear.
“Didn’t I tell you what I believe? Did somebody say that a love like that won’t last?
” Maple belted, making his heart melt in only a way that she could.
“Didn’t I give you, all that I’ve got to give babyyyyy.
This is no ordinary love.” And it wasn’t.
She was his high school sweetheart, the mother of his firstborn, Maple was supposed to be his wife. In another lifetime, she was his wife.