Glitz

by Philana Marie Boles

Well, she did have a job, I reasoned. Up until Saturday. So maybe this was money she had earned.

  I followed Raq’s casual pace through the mall. We made stops at various stores—just peeking and glancing—and stopped to fantasize like the tourists we were at the Cartier window. Raq leaned in closer to me, the light from the diamonds glistening on her face, and she said two words: “One day . . .”

  We stopped in the Puma store, and Raq picked up a pair of white-on-white wristbands. “Let’s get these for Piper,” I said.

  “He’d love them,” she agreed. They were on sale for nine dollars. Before Raq could do it, I paid for them myself. She didn’t protest, and I was glad. After tax I had less than ten dollars, but at least I’d bought something for Piper.

  “By the way,” she said as we strolled, “I’ve been wondering . . . Are you digging on Piper?”

  “What?” I said. “His music?”

  She nudged me. “Come on . . .”

  I nudged her back. “What?”

  “Be honest,” she said.

  I took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Maybe . . . A little. But what’d be the point?” I watched for her reaction. I never told her what he’d said about her back at the Waffle House, but surely she could see the way he’d been looking at her.

  Raq started to laugh so hard, she had to stop walking, causing an old man with a cane to almost bump into her.

  “What?” I stood there watching as she didn’t bother to apologize to the man.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to me, and wiped her eyes, which had begun to water up from her laughing so hard.

  “What’s so damn hilarious?” I asked.

  “Picture Piper . . . having a girlfriend”—she shook her head—“when all he cares about is music. Please.”

  On one hand my feelings were hurt. On the other, I knew she was right. Of course Piper wouldn’t want me to be his steady girl, but why wasn’t such a thing worthy of grandiose, seemingly impossible imagining, too?

  She said, “You’re so gullible, it’s cute.”

  “Excuse me?” I completely stopped walking. “‘Gullible’?”

  “Forget it.” She kept walking. “Come on . . . Don’t stand there looking all wounded like that. I was just kidding.”

  “I must’ve missed the joke, then,” I said. “Ha. Ha.”

  A few awkward moments later she announced, “You’ve got so much to learn. . . .”

  “What now?” I asked.

  Ignoring my irritated tone, she said, “First of all, the key to getting a man to do anything is to make them want you physically. Once they chase after your goods, they will do whatever you want. Now, officially, you can’t let them know you are getting them to do what you want—their egos are too huge—but it’s jackpot for you if you play your cards right. Watch and learn from me, chica. Got it?”

  I just looked at her. Not only was Raq not making any sense, she sounded stupid.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Let’s just unload these CDs.”

  “Yeah, I guess we should,” she said, pulling a CD out of her bag to look at it. There was Buckstarr’s name, right there under Piper’s. “But right here it says ‘Buckstarr’ when it should say ‘Raq.’ And to me, that’s a problem.”

  “Okay . . .”

  “Let me see that backpack,” she demanded.

  I slipped the straps from my shoulders and handed it to her.

  She pulled her shades out of her purse and slid them on for effect. Then she eased my bag over a metal trash can and dumped in all of Piper’s CDs. Just like that.

  “See, chica . . . I’m laying bricks, building the house of Raquel Marissa Diaz. I keep playing my cards right and Piper will be like an itty-bitty penny in the palm of my hand. That fool loves me. He just doesn’t know it yet.” She handed my bag back to me, empty and light now.

  “I can’t believe you just did that.” I looked over at the trash can. How could she do that to Piper, after all he had done for us?

  She looked stunned. “Why not?”

  I shook my head. “Raq, you just threw away a bag full of Piper’s promo CDs. It’s the reason we’re here in the first place. We’re supposed to be—”

  “All right!” She threw her hand up. And then she lowered her voice. “I guess I’m just gonna need to know whose side you’re really on. Right now.”

  “Huh? Why would I need to chose between you and Piper?”

  “That’s not it,” she said. It’s me”—she paused—“or Buckstarr.”

  Oh.

  She nodded when she saw that I was following her train of thought now.

  She said, “Because if you think I’m going to walk this mall pushing another chick’s dream”—she chuckled—“then you don’t know Raquel Marissa Diaz.”

  I couldn’t help a quick chuckle. Raq was so relentless. “You’re crazy,” I said.

  “Thanks, chica.” She smiled.

  We spent an hour in Forever 21 trying on clothes and Raq dropped almost a hundred bucks on dresses for both of us.

  Handing me my bag, she said, “FYI, Gee said Mun’s talking about latching them on Millionaire Mal’s Inked and Paid tour. That’d be hot, huh? Piper would be all up in the mainstream after that. . . .”

  I zipped my hoodie up all the way to my chin, let my bags rest on my arms, and stuffed my fists in my pocket. “Good for him,” I said.

  She flipped her hair. “You should have seen Gee this morning. You were still asleep when I ran into him in the hallway. He was all over me. Like he wanted to eat me alive.” She laughed and then pulled her hair up in the back. “Did he mark me?”

  Sure enough there was a blush-red love mark on the back of her neck.

  “Nope,” I said, full knowing that Raq had probably already been all up in the mirror this morning. Really, she just wanted me to see it. “It looks like a rash,” I said.

  “Yeah, right.” She let her hair fall back down. “I hope I didn’t mark him, too. Guys hate that.”

  First she was talking about Piper, about how he loved her and didn’t know it yet, and now she was talking about Gee again? So she had to have them both? Or was it just that she didn’t want me to have either one?

  In the parking lot, we walked up on Piper and Gee standing by the truck. Two blonde girls were giggling like hyenas as Piper autographed CDs for them. Both girls were in six-inch heels and designer duds, and it looked like they shopped on the daily.

  Raq said “Damn groupies” under her breath, but kept stepping.

  The two girls noticed us approaching and reacted to something Piper said that we couldn’t hear. Then they both looked to be suppressing a giggle.

  “Bye, Piper MC . . . Bye, Sir Gee . . .” one of them said, both of them waving as they walked away and not bothering to look at either of us as they passed.

  Gee spotted the bags Raq and I were carrying. “I see y’all havin’ fun on your little spree.” He took Raq’s bags and put them in the trunk next to the remaining boxes of CDs we were supposed to be giving out on the road.

  Piper reached out and took my bags, too. Our hands touched when he did. “What up, Glitz?” He smiled.

  I checked my peripheral. Was Raq watching me? Sure enough, she was.

  “Nothing much,” I said, reaching in to fumble around in the Puma bag. “I bought you something. . . .”

  “We saw them and instantly thought of you,” Raq said. He smiled at Raq when he saw them. “Yo . . .” And slipped them right on.

  The way he looked at her then, it was as if I could read his mind in that moment: Glitz, who?

  Sometimes you just gotta wait your turn, Raq told me once.

  And so I wondered, Will mine ever come? For anything?

  14

  When I was a little girl, more than anything I just wanted to make Gramma proud. And most of the time I did. Stars and smiley faces on my papers. Praise from my teachers on my midterm reports. Never got in any trouble, not even so much as detention. I really tried hard to be good. And I succeeded.
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br />   Now I was on the run.

  On Tuesday morning, when I should have been going to school, I woke up in the Courtyard Marriott on Juniper Street in downtown Pennsylvania, surrounded by intimidating buildings, too much traffic, and probably dozens of police completely unaware of the delinquents resting on the eighth floor.

  For once, Raq was still in bed, sleeping. She looked so harmless that I could have laughed. She must have sensed me waking up, because soon she stirred.

  Her voice soft and sleepy, she smiled and stretched when she saw me. “Ay, chica . . .”

  “Hey,” I replied, curling up in bed with a sigh.

  Last night, before we’d gone to bed, I had given Raq the okay to push Gramma’s phone calls through to voice mail. But I woke up thinking about her anyway.

  “She called four times, at least,” Raq said, reading my mind.

  Whatever. There was no way I could call her back. I’d passed the point of reasoning with her. If she heard my voice now, a surge of fire would definitely burst through the phone.

  We’d agreed to get an early start passing out CDs that day, and I grabbed a postcard and a stamp from the gift shop on our way out for the day.

  Dear Gramma,

  Sorry if I hurt you or made you worry.

  I love you. And I am . . . O.K.

  P.S. Raq’s really got something!

  Someday I’ll play her CD for you.

  You’ll tap your toes like it’s Natalie Cole . . .

  And maybe you’ll understand . . .

  xoxo–Glitz

  I dropped it in a box near where we stood in downtown Philadelphia on the corner of Market Street and Fifteenth. In full Glitz mode, I put on my shades, zipped up my hoodie, and pulled up the hood. It was a little chilly outside now, and while Gee and Piper were a couple of blocks over, stopping schoolkids as they walked toward the SEPTA bus stop, me and Raq had positioned ourselves to pass out CDs to random passersby. The goal was to drop as many CDs on the road to New York as possible.

  “What kind of music is it?” a scholarly looking Asian woman asked as she took the CD I was holding out to her. She tightened the hood on her windbreaker.

  “Rap,” I replied.

  She read the title on the CD and looked puzzled. “Monster?”

  The wind made me shiver. “Do you know any teenagers?”

  She nodded.

  “Just give it to ’em.” I shivered some more. “They’ll love it. Trust me.”

  She still looked confused but went on her way, Piper’s CD in hand.

  A couple of hours later, when Raq had just been standing there chatting it up with some random guy who approached her, I had given away an entire stack of CDs. Needing to refresh my supply, I waved to get her attention. I could tell she still had plenty.

  “Be right back,” I said.

  Raq kept talking with the thugged-out-looking hottie, but she threw up her hand and smiled to let me know she’d heard me.

  I crossed blocks, getting an occasional bump from a fellow rushed pedestrian, until I spotted the Hummer. Gee was standing in front of it, talking to a couple of goofy-looking girls with plaid uniforms peeking out from underneath their jackets. It reminded me of school. I don’t think I’d ever so much as been tardy, and here I was totally skipping. When I got back home, I promised myself, I was going to dive right back into the books and be my studious self again. I had to.

  Piper was busy signing CDs at the back of the truck for some boys on skateboards. He looked up when he saw me standing there and gave me a quiet smile, raising his wrist up in the air as a reminder of his appreciation for the gift. “Yo ...”

  “Hey, Piper,” I said with a smile. “Just back for another stack.”

  After the kids walked away with their CDs, Piper reached into the back of the truck and handed me a bunch more.

  “I need a break,” he said, leaning against the side of the truck.

  I wasn’t too eager to get back to watch Raq flirt with strangers and toss CDs in the trash instead of giving them away, so I also decided to take a break, too. I leaned back against the truck beside Piper and—by accident—positioned myself too close. Our shoulders touched. He didn’t move, though, when it happened. So I didn’t move either. We both watched the hustling streets of downtown Philadelphia. But for me, it was as if all the traffic was on mute. All I could hear were my own heartbeats in my ears.

  “Appreciate the help,” he said. “With the CDs . . .”

  “A lot of folks said they’d heard of you, you know. When I gave them the CD. . . .”

  “That’s how you swell. . . . Gotta touch locals. . . . Locals grow to states. States grows to mainstream. Grassroots. It’s what we do.”

  I laughed. “They’re like, ‘Piper MC? I know him! He was at the park,’ or, ‘He was at the Illadelph Legends Festival. . . .’”

  “Yo . . .” His smile was proud. “I stay grindin’, ya dig? Got to.”

  “It’s more than just your grind though, Piper. It’s your music. People love it. And you make us think, too. It’s amazing. . . .”

  “Just searchin’ like the next good man,” he said. “Music’s my map.”

  I wondered what he meant by that—his map—but I decided to just keep listening.

  He said, “Tryna find the answers . . . The reasons . . . The messengers. The messages . . .”

  He looked off into the sky like something—maybe the answer or the reason or the messenger or the message—was sitting on a cloud somewhere. Like he could just reach out and pick it up. I resisted the urge to look up and reach right out with him.

  The worst thing in the world, Piper told me then, was to be content.

  He said, “The man with power is not the man with all the dirt,” he said. “It’s the man who stays searching. . . .”

  “Really?”

  “Yo . . .” He tapped his chest. “That’s heart talk.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Means that’s real talk, that’s all. My mans Terry Lewis said, ‘What comes from the heart, speaks to the heart.’” He reached over and touched my arm. “Follow me?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I do.”

  “You’re a smart girl.” He let his arm fall back to his side. “So you tell me what it means. The one searching, why does Glitz think that’s the most powerful person in the world?”

  I thought for a moment. “Because the one searching is the one who finds . . .”

  “. . . all the answers.” His smile was proud. “Yo, you got it. See, some people stumble upon knowledge, but they don’t appreciate that gold because they weren’t looking for it. Some people don’t even give a damn, so they walk right over it. But the ones searching . . .” He rubbed his hands together as if the idea was suddenly new and exciting to him.

  He said, “I can tell a lot about you, Glitz. You look for the meanings in things . . . the reasons . . . Not everybody can do that. Not everybody wants to. Some people can only see the surface, ya dig?” He looked at me in a new way, like he was really hoping I was listening. I was. “Stay thirsty,” he said and then tapped his heart.

  “I will,” I promised.

  That evening, Raq was pacing the hotel room and calling Piper and Sir Gee all kinds of curse words in Spanish. We’d been pushing free CDs all day and they’d dropped us at the hotel afterward, saying that they were running down to Applebee’s to grab some eats and would bring food back for all of us.

  Never one to sweat a guy, Raq had simply replied, “Okay,” and noted what she wanted from the restaurant. I had done the same. But now, four hours had passed. It was nearly ten o’clock.

  Just as Raq screamed in frustration, her phone began to vibrate.

  She picked it up from the bed and rolled her eyes at the caller ID. “Here”—she tossed me the phone—“answer it.” “She’s been calling every hour. And I do mean every. I’m sick of it.”

  Without thinking, I answered. “Hi, Gramma,” I said.

  Her voice was a hurried panic.
“Where-are-you?” She definitely sounded ticked and worried.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Fine! What on God’s blessed earth has possessed your tormented little mind, child?”

  “Gramma,” I said, “please. Don’t! The important thing is that I’m—”

  She gasped. “You little heathen! I’ve called the police, the fire department, Blockwatch, the FBI, Anderson Cooper, Geraldo Rivera, Nancy Grace—”

  “Gramma!”

  “Yes. I. Did. Calling the police again, too. As long as you’re alive I’m gonna need them to stop me from killing you. Nothing—”

  “Did you hear what you just said? I can’t believe you would—”

  “I know what I said! Words came from my mouth, didn’t they?” she interjected. “You just better hope you’re gonna survive this ass whoopin’ you got comin’.”

  Gramma hadn’t spanked me since I was probably eight years old—hollering and fussing was her belt of choice most days—but today I wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t actually do it when I made it home.

  She said, “How are you even eating? Oh God . . . What are you eating? Don’t eat nothing that child cooks!”

  “I’m eating fine. . . .”

  “I bet you are! The Ramirezes said that child walked away with twelve hundred dollars. Cash. Y’all little rascals are probably eatin’ lobster.”

  I looked over at Raq. She was staring out the window. “Really?” I said.

  “Look at her real good. You can see writing right there in her eyes. Left one says BAD and right one says NEWS. Judge said they’re washing their hands of it. Of her. As much as they tried to help that girl, and that little wicked child stole money from them? Kitty’s brother said she got away with three people’s credit cards, too.”

  Twelve hundred dollars, I thought. Man. Raq had more cash than she’d let on. And it was stolen. Maybe she did worship the devil. Maybe she was the devil.

  Raq was still pacing, caring only about the whereabouts of Piper and Gee.

  Gramma continued, “Out there lollygagging like you’re grown. Like you think you can just do what you want to do. That little heathen child don’t care about anything, but you know better. You were raised better than this. Where are you? Downtown somewhere? The Old West End? The mall? Get home now.”