Criminal Minded

by Tracy Brown

  I turned my attention to the people on the sidelines. I saw a few familiar faces, but I couldn’t recall names since it had been so many years since I was home. One girl had her back to me, and I couldn’t help noticing her fat, juicy ass. She was tall—just a little shorter than me—with long hair that fell to her shoulders. She wore a tan bubble jacket with a hood and matching skintight pants. The jacket was only waist length so her behind sat out for all to see. She had some knee-high black boots on and her thighs were thick and firm. She must be gorgeous, I thought to myself. Just as I got ready to step to her, she turned around and I nearly fell out. Olivia! My woody disappeared immediately.

  When she saw me, she ran over to me, threw her arms around my neck, and jumped into my arms. I swung her around, and she laughed, kissing my face over and over.

  “Curtis! I’m so glad you’re home!”

  I hugged her tight and put her down. “Look at you, girl! Wow. I was checkin’ you out from the back until you turned around and I realized it was my baby cousin.”

  She laughed. “I ain’t a baby no more, boo.”

  I nodded, still amazed. “I see. But why you gotta wear your pants so tight, Olivia?” I tried to pull her jacket down to cover her bubble, but she slapped my hand away.

  I heard a voice behind me. “She’s hardheaded. Don’t even waste your breath.”

  I turned around and smiled at the sight of Lamin. “Wassup, cousin?” We hugged as Papa looked on proudly.

  Lamin punched me playfully on the arm. “I see you got your weight up, nigga! Now you can help me fight the dudes off Olivia.”

  I laughed and turned back in Olivia’s direction. “I can see that you got your hands full keepin’ a leash on this one.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes and took Papa by the hand. “Papa, come help me pick out the wardrobe for the ‘pimp’ in this video. You know all about that old-school flava!”

  Papa smiled. “Yeah, baby. Papa was a rollin’ stone back in the day.” We all laughed as they walked off toward one of the trailers.

  “What’s Olivia doing picking out wardrobes?”

  Lamin sighed. “The girl was drivin’ me nuts gettin’ money from niggas …”

  “Word?”

  “Hell, yeah. Had them buyin’ her cars, takin’ her on trips and all kinds of shit. I couldn’t stop her, so I gave her a job as the stylist for the company. Olivia don’t have no office skills or no shit like that. But she got a natural flair for fashion. She dresses the artists for the videos, and I pay her more than any other stylist in the business. Just to keep her from beggin’ niggas for dough.”

  I nodded my head. “Sounds like you got shit under control, cousin. She’s beautiful. Niggas must be knockin’ down her door.” I lit a cigarette, blew out the smoke. “Wassup with them broads over there?” I nodded in the direction of the video hos.

  Lamin smiled. “I got you, Curtis. Come with me.” Lamin led me over to a director’s chair with my name stitched in the fabric. I felt like somebody important and sat in the chair, which gave me a bird’s-eye view of the honeys. The smile on my face reflected my joy.

  “First, let me wrap production here, then I’m gonna take you shoppin’, and we’ll go out tonight,” Lamin said. “Lucky’s friend Veronica owns a lounge uptown so we can go out there and celebrate your homecoming. Guarantee you’ll be wakin’ up next to some fly girl tomorrow morning.”

  “Sounds good to me. But I ain’t no charity case, and I ain’t takin’ no handouts, Lamin. You ain’t gotta take me shoppin’.”

  Lamin laughed. “Yes I do. Look at them jeans you got on, nigga!”

  “Fuck you.” I laughed, too. “At least let me pay you back then.”

  He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. It’s part of the company budget. As a member of the Shootin’ Crooks staff, you must be laced at all times.”

  I frowned, confused. He explained. “Since you got all this muscle and shit, I wouldn’t want nobody but you to be head of security. The very sight of you would scare off most niggas. The job is yours if you want it.”

  I smiled. Lamin was the best. The man was giving me a job on my first day home. “Yo, Lamin. Thanks so much, man. Of course I want the job.” I gave him a pound and a firm hug and he went back to the set to finish the day’s production.

  That night, Lamin came by my mother’s house to pick me up. My moms had prepared my favorite meal—fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, corn bread, collard greens, and Papa’s peach cobbler for dessert. Lamin shook his head.

  “Curtis, I told you we were going out to eat and look at you sittin’ here stuffin’ your face!”

  I laughed. “Nigga, I got an appetite that you would not believe,” I said, talking with my mouth full. “This is the first real meal I’ve had in years.”

  “Sit down, Lamin. Don’t act like you’re a stranger in my house.” Moms was refilling my glass with soda. “Curtis, Lamin comes by all the time to eat up all my food. He took good care of me while you were gone.” She turned to Lamin. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you were no replacement for my baby.” My moms smiled at me. It was obvious that she was thrilled to have me home. I missed her, too. Yet it seemed odd to be living with her after so many years of living among men. I had left her house as a teenaged boy and returned a grown man with a lot of years of hardship behind him.

  Lamin sat down and helped himself to a slice of peach cobbler. “Aunt Inez, I know just what you mean. I’ve met a lot of people since I got in the industry. But nobody could ever take the place of my cousin.”

  I shoveled the last of my food into my mouth and sat back, full. “Ya’ll make a nigga feel so loved.” I smiled and looked at Lamin. “Wassup with Aunt Nadia?” I knew that Lamin looked out for my mother while I was up north. But he never talked about his own mother. I had never been close to her, but family is family. Or so I thought. The room got quiet as if I had asked the wrong question.

  Lamin took a sip of his soda. “Nadia Michaels is still the same. All she cares about is Nadia Michaels.” He continued to eat his peach cobbler.

  My mother spoke up. “Lamin, I told you that your mother loves you. She just doesn’t know how to express that. She has too much pride to say that she’s sorry, but she is. You should go over there and see her since you’re in the neighborhood …”

  “Nah,” Lamin said. “You don’t understand—”

  “No, Lamin. You don’t understand.” My mother was serious. “You kids don’t realize that parents are not around forever.”

  I wondered if that remark was meant more for me than for Lamin.

  My mother continued. “We raise you the best way we can and sometimes we make mistakes. But we’re still your parents. And the Bible says, ‘Honor thy mother and thy father and thy days will be long upon this earth.’ You need to remember that, Lamin.”

  “With all due respect, Aunt Inez … if she’s so easy to forgive, how come you still don’t speak to her?”

  My moms looked stuck for a minute. “I will, Lamin. If you go and see her today, I will call her tomorrow and make amends with her myself. Deal?”

  Lamin shook his head. “Why? Why all of a sudden are you so determined for me to forgive her?”

  “Because I’ve been thinking about Nadia a lot lately. I bet she really needs you right now, Lamin. Go see her. Your grandmother said that she’s been depressed lately.” My moms was layin’ it on thick.

  Lamin sat silent for a moment. “Olivia said the same thing.”

  “What’s she depressed about?” I asked. “Aunt Nadia was never like that before.”

  Lamin shrugged. “I don’t know what her problem is, Curtis. She got this nigga stayin’ with her that uses her as a punching bag. Maybe that has something to do with her being depressed all the time.” Lamin was being sarcastic but I could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke those words. I always knew him better than anybody else.

  “You know you’re worried about her,” I said. “Stop actin’ so fuckin’ tough and
go see about your mother. You’ll feel better after you do it. Then we can go have some drinks with Lucky and her crew and take our minds off all the drama.”

  Lamin stared at me. “You had to start this conversation, didn’t you?”

  My mother laughed. “Lamin,” she said. She reached for his hand. “Go see your mother.” She touched my hand as well. “I got my son back today, and I’m the happiest woman alive. Maybe your mother will feel the same way if you go see her.”

  We finished our food and headed over to my aunt Nadia’s house.

  Lamin

  I rang the doorbell and waited. I shot Curtis a sideways glance to let him know that I didn’t appreciate him and his moms pressuring me to go see my own mother. He laughed as if reading my thoughts and shook his head.

  “You need to stop grillin’ me like that, Lamin.”

  “Shut up, nigga. Remind me to shoot you a fair one when we leave.”

  Curtis smiled and patted his heavy chest. “I’m ready when you are, dog.”

  The door opened and my mother stood before me, looking skinny and frail. She had always been slim, but now she looked downright sickly and exhausted. I was caught off guard and she filled the silence.

  “Lamin, come in. I’m so surprised to see you here.”

  “Me, too,” I said, as I entered the house. Curtis hugged my mother and she asked him when he’d come home. While he explained the day’s events, I let my eyes wander around what I could see of the house. The place still looked the same, except for a few of Wally’s things laying around. I hoped he was there as I remembered all those scowls he used to give me. I wouldn’t even fight him this time. I would let Curtis beat the hell out of him to get out some of his pentup frustrations.

  “Lamin, I been meaning to call you … ,” she said.

  “My number’s still the same.” My voice was a monotone and unfeeling, although inside I felt concern for her. She didn’t look like the vibrant woman I remembered. She looked like she’d been beaten, not just by Wally, but by life.

  She smiled awkwardly. “I know. I just didn’t call because I didn’t want you to think I wanted your money. People start calling all the time when you get a little fame and recognition. Once your name is out there you start hearing from people you ain’t heard from in years. I didn’t want to be one of those people.”

  I didn’t say a word. Just listened as silence filled the space after she stopped talking. Curtis broke the stillness.

  “Aunt Nadia, me and Lamin were just talking about how family is family. We got each other or we got nobody. That’s how I see it. Right, Lamin?”

  I cut my eyes at Curtis. As far as I was concerned the woman standing before me who called herself my mother was still not getting a dime from me. “You look terrible,” I said.

  She waved her hand as if dismissing my remark. “I have a headache so I was just laying down when you rang the bell,” she explained.

  “Where that muthafucka Wally at?”

  My moms looked nervous at the mere mention of his name. “He went to the doctor today …”

  “Let me put it to you like this, Ma. The nigga beats you, he got you losing weight—”

  “Wally ain’t the reason I lost all this weight, Lamin …”

  “Exactly. Nothing is ever Wally’s fault. The nigga can walk on water in your eyes. But the truth is he ain’t shit. You chose him over me and I never got over that, Ma. And you never apologized.”

  “Lamin, I am sorry …”

  “I don’t want the apology now. I want you to be happy. Since that muthafucka still makes you happy, good. Call me when you kick him to the curb. As long as he’s still in your life, there ain’t no room for me.” I turned to leave and she grabbed my arm to stop me. Her grip was even loose as if she felt weak.

  “Lamin, don’t act like that. You don’t understand what it’s like for me. You never did. I was wrong to put you out, and I apologize for that. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. Just don’t have so much hate in your heart for me. I’m still your mother.”

  “Were you my mother the day you tossed my shit out the door?”

  “I wasn’t thinking straight, Lamin …”

  “You never think straight!” My voice echoed off the living room walls. “All you ever see straight is cash. You see whatever or whoever could bring you cash. All my memories of growin’ up are of you fuckin’ every Tom, Dick, and Harry to get money—”

  “LAMIN!” Curtis bellowed. “That’s your mother!”

  “Nah, fuck that, Curtis! You brought me over here! You told me I’d feel better, right? Well this shit makes me feel better. I got some shit to get off my chest, is that alright with you? I didn’t grow up with a moms like yours. I got the short end of the stick!”

  “Leave him alone, Curtis. I need to hear this,” my mother said. Her voice was thick with emotion, as if at any moment she could burst into sobs. I was unmoved.

  So I continued. “I remember, Ma. I remember hearing you fuckin’ all those different men night after night. Then you’d get up in the morning and take Olivia shopping or take her to get her hair done or buy something new for the house. Didn’t you see the type of message that shit was sending to her? You should have seen her doing the same shit. Acting the same way. But you didn’t see that coming, right? You only saw dollar signs. I had to get out ’cause Wally had money, and I was just your broke teenaged son. I had to hustle my way out them streets, ma. Them streets you threw me into. And for what? For trying to protect you from Wally’s burn ass? So now you have him. He’s yours. He stayed and I left. And look at you. Look at yourself!”

  “I know what the fuck I look like, Lamin.” My mother couldn’t stop the tears from falling now. She fought to regain her composure but the tears streamed down her face.

  I laughed. “So was it worth it? Was it worth throwing your only son out without a second thought?”

  “I never should have done that, Lamin. That was fucked up. I fucked up.”

  I saw the tears in my mother’s eyes. Knew I was being cruel, but I couldn’t stop myself. “Why? Why do you feel like you fucked up, Ma? ‘Cause I got more money than a little bit now? ’Cause I got more dough than Wally’s broke ass has seen in his life?”

  “No, Lamin. Because what I did made you feel this much pain for all these years,” she said. “I ain’t gonna make excuses for what I did. I never should have had all them niggas in my bed for all them years. Never should have threw you out. Never should have let Wally put his hands on me. But I can’t change none of that shit, Lamin! All I can do is tell you I’m sorry. I don’t want your money—”

  “You ain’t getting my money! Not as long as you’re with that muthafucka.”

  “I don’t want it!” she yelled. “And maybe I don’t deserve it. But I am your mother. And I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday.” She was sobbing uncontrollably now.

  Curtis stepped in. “Aunt Nadia, we gotta get going. We gotta meet Olivia and Lucky.”

  My mother coughed for a few moments and then said, “Excuse me.” She cleared her throat. “Curtis, can you ask Olivia to call me, please?”

  Curtis nodded. “Sure I will.” He hugged my mother and kissed her on the cheek “Take care of that cold,” he said.

  She smiled. “Alright.”

  We turned to leave. Curtis opened the door and headed for the car, and my mother blocked my exit.

  She looked in my eyes and seemed to search for the right words. “I understand,” she said.

  I nodded. “Good.”

  And I left. As I pulled away with Curtis riding shotgun, I caught a glimpse of my mother standing in the doorway watching us drive away.

  Pitiful woman, I thought to myself. God don’t like ugly.

  FIFTEEN

  foolish

  Curtis

  I looked out the window as we crossed the Verrazano bridge. I wanted to lighten the mood as we drove to Brooklyn so I broached a new subject. “How’s t
hings with you and Lucky?”

  Lamin smiled. “She’s the one, Curtis. That’s for sure.” He shrugged. “But I still got a couple broads on the side. When I decide to marry Lucky, those bitches will have to go, though.”

  “Damn, La. She got you talkin’ marriage?”

  Lamin laughed. “That’s all it is right now. Talk. We’re both young, and it’s too soon to be tying the knot. But eventually, I think it’ll happen.”

  I nodded. “It won’t be easy to let go of all them chicks throwing pussy at you every day.”

  Lamin shook his head. “I think I can do without most of them bitches. There’s really just one in particular that I been spending a lot of time with besides Lucky. I met her up at Sony about three months ago when I was negotiating a deal with them and one of their artists. She works as an A&R for them, and she got a good head on her shoulders.” He looked at me with an expression of ecstasy and bobbed his hand as if an imaginary woman’s head was in his palm. “Plus her head game is tight.”

  I gave my cousin a pound. “A girl who’s good on her knees is worth her weight in gold,” I said. “What’s her name?”

  “Dream. She’s fine, too, cousin!”

  “So is Lucky,” I reminded him.

  Lamin pulled up on Fulton Street opposite Jimmy Jazz, the hip-hop clothing store. We climbed out of the car and my eyes lit up, looking at all the things I wanted on my first shopping spree in years.

  Lamin agreed. “Yeah, Lucky has that exotic kind of beauty. The Asian features mixed with the black in her—it’s definitely sexy. But Dream is brown skinned with pretty brown eyes and cornrows …”

  “Damn, where you be findin’ these women, La?”

  Lamin laughed. “I guess I just be in the right place at the right time. Don’t get me wrong, I respect Dream ’cause she got her own career, her own money, and a nice house. But Lucky got my heart. I wouldn’t leave her for nothin’. She was with me when I was on the come up. You don’t find a woman like that every day.”