1. Koi Malone #3
Toot was yelling at another fiend when I walked up on him.
“This bitch thought she was about to parlay around this fly ass whip.” He staggered from side to side, rubbing his scruffy face.
“I wasn’t having that, sweetheart. I said she told me to watch this,” I chuckled, handing him the brown bag.
His eyes lit up when he looked inside. “Shiddd baby girl, you done blessed a nigga.”
“Enjoy that.” I hopped in my truck, started up the ignition, and rounded the corner until I found a parking spot that didn’t look suspect.
If you parked on the wrong block, you could bet ya windows would be busted, mirrors missing, and if you were gone long enough, your car would be sitting on the ground.
I sashayed my wide hips past the dope boys who were outside chilling, drinking, and shooting dice.
Another day in the hood, I thought. The cat calls didn’t faze me.
None of them were on my level, to say the least. My biweekly paycheck was probably what they made in a month. And that was if they had a good month.
As an accountant for one of the biggest hotel franchises in New York, I should have stayed away from the hood, but I liked to pop in and out. Reminds me of the good days when I grew up on food stamps and free lunches. It wasn’t always pretty, but my mama made a way for me, my sister, and brother.
“Hey niece, I knew that was your pretty ass coming through here. Can’t no one rock that blonde cut like you, boo.
” My aunt popped her tongue like the chicken head she was.
Fifteen years my senior, we grew up more like siblings than aunt and niece.
She was my girl, and I’d go to bat for her ghetto ass.
Now my cousins, they were a different story.
She had a few of them running through these projects, two of whom their daddies took.
“You know me,” I gave her my best around the way girl stance. “You down to drink and talk shit?”
“What that fine ass nigga of yours did now?” She knew I came to her for advice and to vent when it came to Marcel.
My mother didn’t want to hear my mouth about his ass anymore.
After the first few times I caught him doing some shady shit, she washed her hands when I took him back.
Did I blame her? Nah, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t salty that I couldn’t speak to my mama about him.
But Belinda was closer in age and knew how these hood niggas acted, so nothing surprised her.
“Chile, he’s cheating, but this time, I’m done. I swear.” I took the contents out of my bag, making my drink and shaking it around for the perfect mix. “I can’t keep doing this shit.”
“And can’t.” She swung her shoulder length box braids out of her face.
“You’s a bad bitch. He should be happy that you even gave his ass the time of day.
You can have one of them rich ass Wall Street sugar daddies,” she laughed before pouring some E&J in her tumbler.
Her extra long polka dot nails weren’t hard to miss.
Belinda was the epitome of ghetto. Her denim shorts were a size too small, hugging her slim frame, and had her cuff on full display.
She knew what she was doing wearing the white tank without a bra.
I laughed to myself when I took in her attire.
Her style of dress wasn’t what I’d indulge in, but that’s what set us apart from each other.
I was from the hood, but I didn’t carry myself nor look like it, and that’s why my mama hated when I came back.
“I know, but lesson learned, right?” I took a sip, finding a spot on the bench near the playground.
“You damn right, and you don’t just walk away. Nah… You make that pencil dick muthafucka pay for wasting all these damn years of your life, and you only got a ring and no baby. The fuck!”
I was with her until she mentioned the last comment.
Everyone in my family knew about my infertility issues.
It wasn’t a secret. I wanted a child, but at thirty two, I had yet to produce one.
Well, healthy that is. I’ve been pregnant twice, and both times resulted in a miscarriage. One at seven months, crushing me.
“Alright now. Where are your crazy ass kids?” I switched subjects fast. This wasn’t about to be a beat a woman down type of night. I had enough of that shit at home.
“Junior and Rah are probably running down on someone being the typical bad asses they are, and Rika, hell, I don’t know.
She’s been missing for quite some time.” She shrugged as if her twenty eight year old daughter not checking in was normal.
Rika was her oldest, and then there was Shelly and Drew, then the younger ones, Junior and Rah.
Shelly and Drew lived across the Bronx with their fathers.
“And you just don’t give a damn, huh?” I questioned her.
“What if they get caught up in something? You know Rah daddy is already dead and well Junior father don’t give a damn.
” I tried to check her. It was hearing shit like this that pissed me off.
While I couldn’t carry a baby to full term, women like Belinda had multiple pregnancies and kids that she clearly didn’t care about.
“It ain’t that. Anyway, back to this no good nigga of yours.” She snaked her neck around for emphasis. “You sure you are done with him? Cus’, niece I know you. You will let that man sweet talk you, and crawl back into his trap.”
“That was before.” My voice trailed off when I heard a familiar voice.
“I know they ain’t got my boujee ass cousin up in the hood,” he chuckled.
“Where Marcel at?” Drew asked, pulling me into a hug.
“Belinda, wassup?” She nodded like she was his friend instead of his mother.
Drew was her second oldest, and from their dynamic you wouldn’t think they were mother and son.
“In his skin.” I rolled my eyes. Drew was protective. Ten years younger than me didn’t matter when it came to how he acted behind me.
“Well, shit. I guess he’s in the doghouse, huh?
” I sipped from my ice cup without saying anything.
My drink had me feeling nice and tipsy. The bread from my chop cheese was supposed to soak up the liquid, but I was feeling every bit of the alcohol.
While I wanted to erase Marcel from my mind.
Every time someone saw me, they asked where he was, pissing me off further.
Annoyed, I opened the ice cup, finishing off my drink.
“You better slow down. How she got here, Belinda?” I was refilling my cup, ignoring my cousin's concerns.
“She drove, I'm sure of it.”
“I did. My truck is up the block, why?” I cocked my head to the side while I swayed to the music that blasted from the speaker on the other bench.
“Your Audi truck?” His face was screwed up. “Nah. I’m calling Marcel.”
“Do not. Shid, call one of your homeboys and tell them to come drop me off since you so scared for me,” I fired back.
“You’re drunk. I’m gonna get your mother over here then.” Drew pulled out his phone, and I lunged in his direction, snatching the iPhone from his hand swiftly.
“Do not call her ass. You wanna call someone, call my brother instead.” Duke was my older brother. I was the middle child, and as the saying goes, the middle child was definitely the problem.
“Fine. Either way, someone needs to come get your ass.” Drew sounded more like my elder than my younger cousin.
“She’s good. She can come upstairs and sleep it off,” Belinda spoke. I immediately started to sober up. I loved my aunt, but going to her house was a no go. Between the roaches and the strong stench of marijuana, I didn’t want to be bothered with either.
“Oh no. I’ll be able to drive. Don’t trip.” I sent my sister a text. She was probably running the streets with her child, but any chance she got to drive my truck, she jumped at the opportunity. Duke would probably lecture me, but Sicily would ask what time I needed her to pull up.
Since she still lived with my mom and her father, I already knew they would eventually find out. But I didn’t give a damn. I was grown, and I was in mourning.
“Girlll…” Sicily emphasized the word as soon as I picked up her call. “Why are you in Mott Haven? Over at Belinda’s house?”
“Don’t play me like that. I’m outside the park. But the better question is, are you coming or nah?”
“Hell, yea I’m coming, but you know ma gonna wanna know why I’m leaving Sophia here.” She knew better than me that my mama was not worried about where she was going. Sicily just had a big ass mouth. Which is why I tried not to involve her messy ass often.
“You know she ain’t worried ‘bout that child. Come bring your ass.” I rolled my eyes.
My parents lived two blocks away in Patterson Projects.
The two block distance made a huge difference.
One project was a one way in, one way out death trap, and the other was open, big and full of many different gangs, only steps away from each other.
While all of this seemed normal when I was growing up. As an adult, it was trash, and I popped in and out for the antics but left before the drama. I called that balance.
“Whatever. I’m ‘bout to walk that way. Don’t have me walking through Mott Haven looking for you either. Stay your tipsy ass right on that bench.”
“Chile, I am not going anywhere. I’ll be waiting.
” I ended the call, pulled out my cranberry juice, and poured more contents into my ice cup.
By now I had been with Belinda for over two hours, talking shit.
Marcel had left me a plethora of texts and a few calls, but I wasn’t budging.
Him and his loose community dick could get the hell on.
He was about to see that all that good girl, accept what happens cus he comes home at night, attitude was long gone.
“Fuck that,” I mumbled to myself, sipping my mixed drink through my straw, without a care in the world. “Marcel just gonna have to see that I’m about tired of the same ol sad ass story.”