Down by Law

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Down by Law Page 18

by Ni-Ni Simone


  I couldn’t even look this trick in the face. I glanced at Queenie once and then quickly looked the other way. I couldn’t believe she was standing here. Like she hadn’t walked out and left me with the devil.

  Once we were outside and I was free and clear of the court and the COs, I looked up at Queenie, fought back angry tears, and said, “You may as well carry yo’ behind back to the track you just left ’cause I ain’t goin’ nowhere with you!”

  “Don’t you dare speak to me like that! I’m your—”

  “My what? My mother? I know you was not about to say that! ’Cause last I checked, it’s been exactly three years and an afternoon since we got down as anything, let alone as mother and daughter.”

  “Isis. I can explain, but I need you to calm down.”

  “You need me to calm down? Really? Screw you! Where were you when I needed you? Huh? Where were you? Off on some bus somewhere rollin’ to Atlanta. Did you forget you had a daughter?”

  “How could I forget something like that?”

  “You tell me, ’cause after Schooly died you didn’t care nothing about me! You just left me by myself.” Tears were flying everywhere. “I swear to God, I hate you! I hate you! And if you think I’m going anywhere with you, then you are dead-ass wrong!” And I stormed away, leaving her in the middle of the block with tears covering her face.

  42

  Protect ya neck

  No money.

  No beeper.

  No phone.

  Feet on fire.

  Head about to explode.

  I’d stormed through countless Newark blocks, from the courthouse to Fresh’s apartment, only to find him smoking a blunt with two gigglin’ tricks.

  Wham! Bam! Pow! With everything in me, I hooked off and one-twoed him right in his face. Painful surprise caught him and he stumbled back. I kicked him in his chest and just as I went to follow up with another round of spontaneous kicks and punches, he wrapped a hand around my neck and slammed me into the wall.

  “You must want me to shoot you!” He tightened his grip on my throat. “What the hell is wrong witchu?” He flung me from the wall to the couch.

  He looked over at the two chicks, who were no longer giggling. “Y’all need to leave. Now!”

  “For what? They been chillin’ here witchu, so why they gotta leave now?” I looked over at the chicks, who were walking toward the door. “No, y’all stay.”

  Fresh shot them a look and they rushed out the door, as I shoved him in his chest.

  I screamed, “Where have you been, huh? What happened to my lawyer? Money for my account?! A goddamn visit?!”

  “A visit? And why would I come up there? You of all people should already know that the last place I’m gon’ be is visiting you in jail!”

  “You could’ve sent a lawyer!”

  “You’re a minor. You didn’t need a big-time lawyer. I knew you would get off!”

  “I had to take a plea for probation. You think that’s getting off? Are you serious?”

  “You need to be grateful!”

  “Really? Grateful? So that’s why you didn’t do anything for me, not even send me money, because I should be grateful!”

  “Money? You know how dry it’s been for me around here? And who was I gon’ send the money by? Your crackhead cousin, who’s strung out and selling five-dollar blow jobs on the street!”

  I felt like he’d just stuck me with a knife full of salt in my chest. “You know what? I went to jail, and the only person who cared enough about me to see how I was doin’ was K-Rock. And he said some things that made a lot of sense.”

  “So he tells you what to do now?”

  “It’s not about him telling me what to do. It’s about me knowing when to take some advice. So hear me when I say this: I’m done selling weed. Finished!”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. So don’t even look at me to hustle anymore.”

  “Oh.” He arched a brow. “Word? And what you gon’ do? Work at McDonald’s? Burger King? Is that how you wanna repay me, after er’thing I’ve done for you?”

  “Listen. It’s no crew. They’re done too. We all got a lil stash. Er’body trying to change their ways, finish school. Maybe go to college.”

  “College? What? Here’s what you need to do. Get outta this fairy tale you in and K-Rock needs to stop puttin’ bullshit in your head. ’Cause you don’t have no skills. You pretty, but you don’t have no talent, so I don’t know how long you think them looks gon’ last.”

  “First of all, I’ma hustler and I’ma always make a way to survive! I been on my own ever since my brother died, so I don’t need you!”

  “Look, hold on, you got me messed up. You the one who wanted to come into this marijuana game. I ain’t even know you had the heart for it until you showed me what you was capable of. And er’body in the streets know that if it wasn’t for your crackhead cousin runnin’ her mouth, you would still be slangin’.”

  “Do you understand that I just got outta jail? And I had to take a plea for probation. One screw-up and I’m back in jail. I’m not interested!”

  “Oh, so now you wanna bitch up ’cause you got locked up. You did three months and suddenly you wanna do a whole one-eighty. I ain’t tryna hear that from you. My coke and weed connect is locked up, which means my money is funny. So the last thing I’m tryna hear is you telling me that you about to screw wit’ even more of my dough.”

  “Fresh—”

  “So you will sell weed, at school, and you ain’t gon’ stop until I tell you to.” Fresh peered through me as if he dared me to say something else, and when I didn’t, he continued with, “Now I got someplace to go. And when I get back you better have your thoughts straight!”

  He walked out of the living room and headed to his bedroom, leaving me standing there.

  I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I felt dizzy and saw visions of Queenie dancing before me. How could she be back and living in Atlanta? Atlanta? So she just left me here while she ran off and started a whole other life somewhere else . . . probably with somebody else....

  “Isis, you hear me?”

  I blinked as Fresh’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. I looked him over, my eyes stopping at the gold watch on his arm....

  “Lil sis, you still mad at me? I traded one of those gold necklaces for a box of Chick-O-Sticks. So you wouldn’t be mad anymore. . . . I’m sorry I told you to eat it. And check it, if you want, and if it means that much to you, I’ll take everything off. ’Cept the watch. ’Cause I really like it.”

  “A’ight, I’ll let you rock wit’ the watch.”

  “Fresh, where you get that watch from?”

  “My cousin Snoop gave it to me. Why?”

  “’Cause my brother had a watch like that.”

  “Your brother? What’s your brother’s name?”

  “Schooly.”

  Fresh blinked. His thoughts drifted and then he looked back over at me. “Schooly? Hold on. Was your brother the lil retarded boy that got killed?”

  “Don’t call my brother retarded. Now how did you get that watch?”

  He curled his upper lip in disgust. “Just answer my question, was your brother the lil retarded boy? Who got killed because his brother Face set up my homeboy?” He paused, his eyes loaded with a million thoughts. “Hold up? Is Face your brother too?!” He snatched my cheeks and squeezed them.

  “Get offa me!”

  “I asked you a question!”

  “Yes, Face is my brother!”

  “He killed my cousin, Snoop! And here I been messing with you.” He reared his fist back and before I could even attempt to free myself from his grip, all I could feel was his fist landing in my face.... Everything around me faded to black.

  I opened my eyes and Fresh stood over me, as I lay on the floor. “You lucky that’s all you got. Now what you better do is tell me exactly how your brother got this watch. Or I’ma stomp blood from you and I mean that.”

  Tears fl
ooded my face. I scooted back, gripped the couch, and pulled myself up and off the floor. I sat on the edge, scared of what Fresh might do next. “Look, my brother Face used to sling, but he was also a stick-up artist.”

  “I know. And he stuck his hand in the wrong goddamn pocket this time. Now keep talking.”

  “All I know is that my brother and his homeboy—”

  “Who, K-Rock?” Fresh placed his hand at his side, where his gun was tucked.

  “No! K-Rock is freakin’ square. A college boy. He don’t know nothing about these streets. And like I said, my brother and his homeboy—”

  “What’s his name?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. All I know is that he and Face robbed some drug dealer—”

  “Yeah, my cousin Snoop’s right-hand man, George, and his crew is who they ran up on.”

  “Okay, they robbed George and his crew. And they took his money and his jewelry. And when they came home, Face gave Schooly that watch.”

  “Yeah, and this watch is why Snoop caught your little retarded brother at the bus stop and left him dead under the bridge. Which, as far as I’m concerned, his lil slow ass deserved. I don’t believe this!” He slammed his hands against his temples, like his thoughts pained him.

  I did everything I could to hold it together. I knew if I yelled, screamed, or made any sudden move that Fresh just might kill me or come close to it. He looked at me with rage and disgust. “Trick! You lucky I ain’t know you was Face’s little sister or I would’ve finished his family off, especially after he killed my cousin.”

  Whap!

  The scorching heat of Fresh’s slap stunned me as I fell into the wall and hit the back of my head. I spotted the butt of his twenty-two on the end table and immediately my instincts told me to pick it up and shoot this . . .

  “Let me tell you somethin’.” I snatched the twenty-two and gripped it in my hand. “If you hit me again, I’ma send you visiting, and the same sucker-ass Snoop that you beatin’ for gon’ be the one you stop by to see!”

  Blood dripped from my busted bottom lip and I flung it away. Fresh frowned and took a step closer to me.

  I knocked off the safety.

  “Put the gun down!” he ordered.

  “Back up and you better not hit me again!”

  He took another step forward. “What did I just say?!”

  “Back. Up.”

  Fresh rushed over toward me and just as I positioned my finger to squeeze the trigger, he snatched the gun from my hand. “What are you, stupid? I need to be the last person you pull a gun on!”

  “Don’t touch me again! Or I’ma pull the trigger the next time.”

  “Then you better make sure the gun is loaded. ’Cause this one is empty.”

  “Well, then it’s your lucky night.”

  Fresh shook his head and paced the room. He looked over at me and shook his head again. “I don’t believe this!” he said as he tossed a punch into the air. Then he turned back toward me and said, “Sit down, Isis.”

  “I’m not sitting down! Are you crazy?!” I wildly wiped the tears streaming from my eyes.

  He shot me a look. “What did I just say? Sit down.”

  “No!”

  Fresh hopped up and walked over to me. I flinched. “Look.” He gripped my shoulders. “Had I known you were Face’s lil sister, I would’ve never looked your way. But it’s nothing I can do about it. I love you—”

  “Puttin’ your hands on me is not love!”

  “Would you shut up! That’s your problem—you’re always running your mouth. You need to listen sometimes! It’s messed up about what happened to your brother, but Face caused that. You know the rules. You come for me I come even harder for you. Fair exchange no robberies. You know that.”

  “Schooly never did nothing to anybody! They didn’t have to kill him!” I screamed and pushed him in his chest. I was doing everything in my power to stop these tears from burning down my face but, I couldn’t.

  “Well, you need to blame Face. He did that. And word is bond, you need to be thankful that didn’t nobody off you.”

  I was slowly losing my mind. All I wanted to do was slice Fresh across his throat and make him regret everything he’d just done to me. But I knew there was a time for everything....

  Fresh continued, “None of this had to be. But it is.”

  Silence.

  “But I’ma forgive you.”

  Forgive me?

  He carried on. “Only ’cause you really didn’t know. And I care about you.” He paused. “And I’m sorry about what happened to your brother. But right now, I can’t stay stuck on that. I gotta get back on top of my game and we need to get things back on track. And make this money.”

  Knock! Knock!

  Fresh squinted and looked toward the door.

  “Isis! You in there? Open up this door!”

  Queenie . . .

  “Isis!” She pounded. “You in there? Open this door right now!”

  “Who is that?” Fresh reached for his gun.

  “You don’t need that. It’s my mother.”

  He frowned. “Your what? Your mother?”

  “ISIS!” Queenie screamed. “Yvette told me this is where your boyfriend lives! So you better open up this door or I will have the police here!”

  Fresh arched a brow. “I tell you what. You better get that old trick away from my door talking about the police or I’ma raise the body count in a minute.”

  “You not about to shoot my mother.”

  “You trying to find out?”

  “Isis!”

  I stormed over to the door and snatched it open. Queenie pushed her way inside. “Let’s go!”

  “I ain’t goin’ nowhere witchu! So you may as well go back wherever you came from and leave me alone. You ain’t been worried about me, so why are you all up and in my business now?”

  “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but obviously you forgot who I am. Now I made some mistakes, leaving you being one of them. But I’m here and lucky for you, I came back right on time. Otherwise you’d be sitting in some girls’ home somewhere. . . .” She paused. “What happened to your face?” She grabbed my face and I flinched away. “Who did this to you?”

  “None of your business!”

  She walked over to Fresh. “You put your hands on my daughter.”

  “You better go ’head. I ain’t touch your daughter.”

  “Do you know I will slice your throat?!” she snapped at Fresh. “You put your hands on my daughter!” She took a step closer to him.

  I slid in between them. “Queenie, would you stop!” I screamed. “Just go! Just leave! You don’t have a right coming up in here like this! You don’t tell me what to do! I’m grown!”

  “Well, I have custody of your grown ass. Now you decide.” She looked over at Fresh. “I don’t know who you are, but I know you did this to my daughter. She’s a minor. And right now, I’m telling you, if my daughter doesn’t come with me willingly then I will be calling the police to make her go! Now you help her decide.”

  “The police?” Fresh said, looking over at me. “How about this? Both of y’all got to go.”

  “Fresh, wait a minute.”

  “Ain’t no wait a minute.”

  “Fresh—”

  “You gotta go!”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  “Oh, you goin’,” Fresh spat. “I’m not about to deal with this!” He opened the front door. “I care about you and I wish things could’ve been different, but I’m not about to get locked up behind this.”

  “Let’s go, Isis!” Queenie grabbed me by my wrist, pulled me out the door, and before I could pull away from her, Fresh slammed the door behind me.

  I rode quietly in the cab with Queenie, staring out the window. “Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve died the minute I was born.”

  “Why would you say something like that?!”

  “Then I wouldn’t have to go through this. Especi
ally if the people who had me wasn’t gon’ stick around to take care of me.”

  “Don’t say that.” Queenie stroked my hair.

  “Get off of me.”

  “Isis—”

  “You and Daddy dumped me in these streets. Just left me like I wasn’t nothin’. And then you show up demanding that I come with you, not caring about what I wanted or how I’ve been living since you left!”

  “That’s not true. I have missed you. I left because I had to get my thoughts straight. I was in mourning—”

  “What?” I turned around and looked at her. “So what? I should feel sorry for you?”

  “Isis, I thought I was doing the right thing by walking out and leaving you with your grandmother.”

  Now she’d pissed me off. “See, this is exactly why I ain’t even wanna be bothered with you. How you gon’ sit there and say you thought you were doing the right thing? By leaving me? By not even saying good-bye? See you later? Even you saying ‘I ain’t coming back’ would’ve been better than you turning into air.”

  “You were a child. I didn’t know how to come and talk to you the way that you needed me to. That way that I should’ve.”

  “Do you know how many nights I looked for you, and looked for you, and looked for you? Huh? Do you know what it was like living with Nana? She didn’t buy us nothing. She didn’t talk to us. She cussed us out. She hated us. And you thought you were doing the right thing? The only thing you left me with was a slap across the face. And that lasted for three years and, as far as I’m concerned, you still slapping me.”

  “Isis.” She draped an arm over my shoulders. “I didn’t know.”

  I flung her arm off of me. “You didn’t care. You were wrapped up in Queenie. And Schooly. And everything else you lost, instead of looking at me. I was right there. Right there. And it didn’t matter to you—”

  “It did matter. That’s why I didn’t take you with me!”

  “You didn’t take me with you because you didn’t see me as being worth it. And now you wanna come back and lay out your new life and tell me I can have a new start, when I ain’t never had a start in the first place, I just had to make it.”

 

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