by Tracy Brown
Rah-lo stared at his friend for a long time. “You cutting me out of some money now?” Rah-lo demanded, becoming angrier by the minute.
“Nah.” Ishmael didn’t want to dig himself deeper into the hole that he was already in. “The shit I got going with Cito has nothing to do with you. Me and you still get our money the same. Nothing changed. I just got a lil something going on the side, Rah-lo. It’s as simple as that. Like I just explained, I can’t afford to have a bad week. This way I got my shit covered and I still got your back with the shit we got going on.”
“I can’t believe this shit.” Rah-lo looked at the ceiling in anguish and let out a deep sigh. “First I find out that you’re talking to Celeste behind my back. And now I find out that you got a secret deal with the supplier. You’re a fucking snake.”
“What?” Ishmael was stunned. “Celeste?” He wondered how the fuck Rah-lo had found out about that.
“Yeah, muthafucka! Celeste. Nina called me and let me know that you’ve been talking to her. I didn’t believe her, so I called the number she gave me and I spoke to Celeste myself. She told me that you’re planning a trip down there.” Rah-lo stepped closer to Ishmael. “So when the fuck was you gonna tell me that you’ve been talking to Celeste?”
Ish took a step back. Not that he was scared of Rah-lo. Ishmael just needed a second to get his story straight before this confrontation turned physical. “I only called her because I thought you went down there to look for her. Your wife was calling me every five fucking minutes demanding to know where you were. She kept telling me that you went looking for Celeste. So I called her looking for you.”
“How the fuck did you get her number, Ish?”
“I found her on MySpace! I sent her a message and she sent back her number. Rah-lo, Asia said that you went after Celeste. That’s the only reason I contacted her. I was only trying to find you so I could tell you that your wife was bugging the fuck out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that you spoke to her when I called you earlier? Huh? If all this shit is on the up-and-up why the fuck didn’t you mention that you spoke to my shorty?”
Ishmael had to stifle a laugh. Celeste hadn’t been Rah-lo’s “shorty” in years. But rather than point that out, Ishmael sighed. “I don’t know why. Nina came home and I got distracted. It slipped my mind.”
“Slipped your fuckin’ mind, huh? Word? What about you going down there to visit her? Did that shit slip your mind, too?”
“I was just talking shit when I said that!”
“And what about Cito, Ish? What the fuck is going on with you? All this time I thought you was my man and I could trust you. Now you calling Celeste behind my back, keeping secrets with Cito … Tell me something, nigga!”
Ishmael held his hands up in exasperation. “You’re taking this shit too far, Rah-lo. Seriously.”
“I gotta hear from your girl that you’re having late-night conversations with Celeste? I gotta wonder if the niggas I’m doing business with got larceny in their hearts? Nah! Fuck that.” Rah-lo punched Ishmael in his face, knocking him off balance. Before Ishmael could regain his composure, Rah-lo was on him again, pummeling him in a barrage of punches.
Ishmael charged Rah-lo, knocking him off his feet. Now that he had gotten Rah-lo off of him, Ishmael tried desperately to get the upper hand. But he was no match for Rah-lo, who was still throwing powerful punches at his former friend. They tussled on the floor for several minutes until finally Ishmael scrambled to his feet and threw his hands up to continue the fight. His gun fell from his waistband onto Rah-lo’s hardwood floor, landing with a loud boom.
Rah-lo stood and faced his friend, the gun lying precariously on the floor between them. “You gonna shoot me, Ish?” Rah-lo demanded, his chest heaving.
Ishmael stared Rah-lo down. He didn’t want to fight his friend, much less shoot him. “Rah-lo, you got this shit all twisted,” Ishmael said.
Rah-lo shook his head and bent down and picked up Ishmael’s gun. He handed it to Ishmael and, cautiously, he took it from Rah-lo. He looked Ishmael dead in his eyes. “Get out of my fucking house. Take your deal with Cito and run with it. I’m not fucking with you no more. I can’t trust you.”
Ishmael felt terrible because he knew how bad this all looked. “Rah-lo—”
Rah-lo shook his head and looked at Ishmael seriously to demonstrate that their conversation was over. He gestured toward the door and hoped for Ishmael’s sake that he followed his orders and left Rah-lo alone. “You can’t say shit to me. You betrayed me. Leave, Ish.”
Ishmael wanted to defend himself but thought better of it. Instead, he headed out the door and shut the door on a lifelong friendship as he made his exit.
“Jackie, can you wash Sabrina’s hair for me, please? I need to take the next customer. It’s getting too crowded in here.”
“No problem.” Jackie escorted the client to the sink while Nina called the next lady to her chair. Nappy Nina’s was packed for a Thursday afternoon. Nine women sat patiently waiting their turns as Nina, Jackie, and Alesia (the salon’s braider) worked busily through the steady stream of clients. KISS FM was playing an old Stephanie Mills joint, and several of the patrons and stylists sang along.
Nina took one look at a client’s weave and shook her head. “Uh-uh!” she said emphatically. “You gotta go across the street to the Dominicans and let them wash your hair.” Nina continued to shake her head as she looked at all the woman’s nappy new growth while cutting the weave tracks out of her hair. There was no way Nina was going to dig her well-manicured hands into this woman’s matted mane. Nina cut out the last track and repeated herself, shaking her head. “Mmmmm. Go across the street, let them wash you, and come back.” The client looked slightly offended, but she grabbed her bag and strolled right across the packed Brooklyn street, looking like Buckwheat’s mama.
“No shame!” another client called out. Everyone started laughing.
Nina began applying a relaxer to Ms. Turner’s hair, while noticing Ishmael pulling up outside in his truck. She frowned and kept working, wondering what the fuck he wanted.
As he entered the shop, she saw a heated expression on his face. When he approached her, she avoided his gaze and said, “I can’t talk right now, Ishmael. You see how packed it is in here.”
Ishmael ignored her statement and said, “I need to talk to you outside for a minute.”
Nina frowned slightly. She motioned to Ms. Turner and shrugged. The woman had Creme of Nature slathered throughout her head. She wasn’t going anywhere. “I can’t leave a perm on her, Ishmael. Let me rinse it out and I’ll—”
“It can’t wait, Nina.” Ishmael was dead serious. He hadn’t stopped scowling at her since he got there.
“Ish, I can’t leave a relaxer in her hair. There’s lye in it. It’ll burn her hair out. What’s the matter with you?”
He stared at her blankly.
“What?” she demanded.
“Get your shit out of my house,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ll give you one week and then I want you and all your shit gone! You betrayed me, you little bitch! I know what you told Rah-lo and I swear I want to fuck you up right now. So before I hurt you, get your shit and get the fuck out of my house.” He stood with his chest heaving and his hands balled into fists in his pockets. The customers in the shop ceased all conversation and began to pay close attention to Ishmael and Nina’s conversation.
“Aww shit,” one client said under her breath.
Ms. Turner was all ears. She was glad to have a front-row seat—Nina’s chair—for the drama unfolding before her.
Nina was astounded. “Get out of your house?” She put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Your fucking house? I don’t think so. My name is on the lease and—”
“Your name ain’t on shit,” he said. “Don’t make this hard on yourself, Nina. If you don’t have your shit the fuck out of there in one week, I’ll throw all your shit out. Word. Don’t test me.” He turned to leave, but Ni
na was hot on his trail.
“Ishmael, it’s like that now? Why? ’Cuz I went through your fucking phone?” she demanded.
“What the hell did you tell Rah-lo for?” Ishmael barked, turning to face Nina. He knew that he had beef now.
Nina stood speechless. Ishmael looked at her in disgust. “Get the fuck outta my face.” He turned to leave and Nina grabbed his arm.
“Wait a minute!” she cried out desperately.
“Nina, my scalp is tingling!” Ms. Turner called out to her.
Nina ignored Ms. Turner. “Ishmael, how the hell was I supposed to feel, knowing that you been creeping on me? Huh? What about Robin? That shit don’t count? I was mad. You gotta take it this far?”
Ishmael shook his head as he looked at her. “You can’t be that dumb. Really. You knew when you told him that bullshit that I would never fuck with you after that. Don’t act surprised now. Just stay away from me.”
“I’m not going nowhere!” Nina stepped back and put her hands on her hips.
Ishmael chuckled right to her face. “You’re a crazy bitch!”
Nina hauled off and slapped Ishmael so hard that clients ran for cover, assuming that Ishmael was going to beat the hell out of her in response. He pushed her hard enough to make her stumble backward slightly. She charged at him again, and he pushed her back again, this time causing her to stumble backward into one of the chairs. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if she slapped him like that again he knew he might do just that.
Frustrated, Nina began to cry. “Fuck you, Ishmael!” She was embarrassed in front of her clients and her employees and she was losing the man she had wanted to spend her life with. Nina struggled to her feet.
“Nina!” Ms. Turner was not playing anymore. “My fuckin’ scalp is on fire. I need to rinse this shit out of my hair now!”
Other clients began to grumble about the scene playing out before them. “This shit is so unprofessional!” one client exclaimed. “If that was me and my hair fell out, I would kick somebody’s ass up in here!”
Ishmael rubbed his face, which was still burning from the impact of Nina’s hellified slap. He wanted to slap her back to show her how that shit felt, but instead he shook his head at her in disgust, turned around, and walked out.
Nina was left standing there with all eyes on her. Jackie mercifully stepped in and ushered Ms. Turner to the sink to rinse out her relaxer. Nina watched Ishmael drive away and she walked out of the shop and stood there, thinking about what had just happened. Behind her she could hear the whole shop buzzing about the scene Ishmael had caused.
“That muthafucka is fine! How did she fuck that up?”
“I hate guys like that. He cheated on her and then he turns it around to make it seem like it’s all her fault. He did that shit just to embarrass her. He knew what he was doing. Coming in here to tell her to get out of his house. He wanted to make her look like a fool.”
“She should learn to keep her mouth shut. When I used to get my hair done at Dime Piece, she was always in there telling Charly that she talks too much. Looks like she talks too much, too.”
“You know what they say about people in glass houses,” another lady observed.
“Did y’all see how hard she slapped him, though?”
“Yeah, but then he pushed her like he wanted to choke the shit out of her instead.”
“She’s lucky it was him. ’Cause if it had been my man, he would’ve knocked her straight out!”
“That shit was hilarious. He kept pushing her and she was so mad!”
“I got it on my camera phone!” one girl exclaimed. Everyone in the shop crowded around her to see the instant replay.
Nina had never been so embarrassed in her life. She walked off toward her car, climbed inside, and sped off toward home.
Charly’s shop was so packed that there were no more chairs available for the clients to sit in. Every dryer, sink, and stylist’s chair was occupied. The seats set up around the perimeter of the salon for customers to sit in while they waited were all taken. There were women lined up against the walls and some sitting outside of the salon, waiting their turns.
Charly had never seen this before. Especially not on a Thursday! She walked over to the sink where Robin and Lauren were washing hair and shook her head. “I wonder where all these people came from. I need y’all to speed it up a little so no one gets impatient and leaves before we get a chance to get that money.”
Lauren nodded. “The girl in the red shirt said that there was a fight at Nina’s salon and they closed early. So her and her friend came here to get their hair done.”
Both Robin’s and Charly’s ears perked up. “A fight?” Charly asked. “Who was fighting in there today?”
Robin kept washing her client’s hair but was focused on the dirt Lauren was dishing. Lauren shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’ll ask her when I’m finished with this shampoo.”
Charly had no patience. She rolled up her sleeves and stepped in. “I’ll finish her shampoo. Just go and find out what happened. The suspense is killing me!”
Lauren laughed and stepped away from the sink. She took a towel to dry her hands and headed over to the girl in the red shirt. Robin and Charly were too far away from the conversation to hear what was being said. So they both watched the body language of the client and Lauren’s reaction to what she was telling her. Lauren held her hand over her mouth in shock. The client was animatedly describing the scene in Nina’s salon, sitting on the edge of her seat and motioning with her hands as if hitting someone. Robin could hardly stand the wait as Lauren continued to talk to the girl in the red shirt. Finally, Robin saw Lauren making her way back to where the sinks were. When she got there, Charly and Robin were putting conditioner in each of their clients’ hair and eagerly waiting to hear the juicy details.
Lauren wasted no time. “She said that Nina’s man came in the shop and broke up with her in front of everybody.”
“Well, we know he doesn’t mean it, because he told her that the other day and he’s still dealing with her.” Charly was unimpressed with the way this gossip was shaping up. Plus she wanted to rub salt in Robin’s wounds. Charly suspected that Robin was still feeling Ishmael.
Lauren continued, “This time the shit sounds serious. She said that Nina punched him in the face and he hit her back and knocked her out.”
“What?” Robin was floored. “That doesn’t even sound like Ishmael.”
Charly cut a look at Robin and wondered how the hell she could possibly know what Ishmael would or wouldn’t do. All Robin had ever been to him was a one-night stand. “So what happened after that?” Charly asked.
“Then he left. But some lady got all her hair burned out with a relaxer that Nina left on during the fight. So all their clients came here.” Lauren winked at Charly and she smiled. Nina’s loss was certainly their gain.
Charly headed back to the front of the salon while Lauren escorted the client to the dryer. As Charly called the next customer, Robin was on her cell phone, calling Ishmael.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Second Time Around
It was close to noon when Ishmael got a call from Robin. She was whispering so that nosy Charly wouldn’t hear her. “What happened at Nina’s shop, Ish? A whole bunch of new clients have been coming in here and saying that you and Nina had a fight.”
Ishmael sighed as he leaned his head back against the pillows on the bed in his secret apartment. He figured he’d lay low for a few days to let the drama die down with Rah-lo. “We did have a fight. She told Rah-lo that I had a conversation with Celeste. Now I got this dude looking at me like I can’t be trusted or like I double-crossed him or some shit.”
Robin listened to Ishmael admit to fighting with Nina and was surprised at him. “You knocked her out, Ishmael? I heard she punched you in your face, and that’s fucked up. But you didn’t have to hit her back like that.”
Ishmael frowned and cursed the ghetto grapevine for the umpteenth time. “I di
dn’t knock nobody out,” he said. “And she didn’t punch me in my face, either. We had an argument. She slapped me. Then she kept trying to hit me and I pushed her off me. That was it. Then I left.” He sighed. “You see how people lie?”
Robin was relieved to hear that Ishmael hadn’t hit Nina. She would have looked at him much differently if he had. “I thought you said that you were helping Rah-lo try to find Celeste. Why would he be mad at you for talking to her?” she asked.
“Yeah, I was helping him find her and I found her before he did. I sent her a message on MySpace and she sent me her number. Our whole conversation was about five minutes long,” Ishmael said. Another lie, but he didn’t want Robin to suspect that he felt more for Celeste than he should.
Robin wasn’t sure she believed him, but she shrugged it off. Celeste was miles away. “You sound tired. Where are you now?”
“At my apartment. Why? You want to come over?”
Robin sighed. “No. I have about three more clients to do and then I have to get home to Hezekiah. My sister won’t watch him tonight. She’s going out.”
Ishmael couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “I’m starving right now. I was hoping you could come over here and feed me.” His tone was suggestive and Robin smiled, remembering.
“Let me see if I can make that happen. I’ll call you when I leave here.”
Ishmael agreed and Robin hung up and got back to work.
Two hours later, she called Ishmael on his cell phone. When he answered she was parking her car outside of his house. “Are you still up for company?” she asked.
Ishmael had just woken up from a catnap. “Yeah. You coming over?”
“I’m outside. Come open the door.”
Ishmael hung up the phone and trotted downstairs to let her in. He couldn’t wait to get her in his bed once again. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Robin standing with Hezekiah beside her. Ishmael’s expression changed visibly and Robin noticed.