by Cole Hart
They kissed again before he left. Summer then called Mrs. Diane to let her know Danté had gone to pick up Rodney. She wouldn’t be at the cookout because the stroke she suffered nearly eighteen months ago had paralyzed the right side of her body. She could still walk, though, but with a cane. After Summer hung up from talking with Mrs. Diane, the phone rang.
“Summa,’” the voice said from the other end.
“Yeah?” she answered. “Who is dis?”
“Cam,” the voice replied.
Cam was one of Danté’s friends, a serious business associate who was loyal to Danté.
“Oh…hey,” she said.
“Is Danté home?”
“No, he jus’ left to go pick my brotha up.”
“Damn…”
“You can call his cell if it’s important.”
There was a short moment of silence.
“You know what time he’ll be back?”
Summer was beginning to get agitated. She wasn’t the type to answer many questions, especially the ones that involved her boyfriend. So, she politely switched up the conversation just enough to end it.
“Did he tell you about the cookout?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, it’ll start at three-thirty. See you then.”
She hung up and looked around to see what she needed to do next. She stepped into the living room, which was L-shaped and connected to the dining room. It was decorated in the usual hustler furniture consisting of a leather sofa, loveseat, and fine black art. Thick carpet was in every room.
She slid her feet into a pair of new Air-Max Nikes and grabbed her keys from off the top of the big-screen TV. She walked through the house and out into the garage where her burgundy J-30 Infinity sat. She pressed the button on her keychain, causing the alarm to chirp and the rear lights to blink quickly. It was disarmed. She got in, started the car, and pressed the garage door opener clipped to the visor. After the wide garage door had risen completely, she pulled out and pressed the button again to close it. When she got to the end of the driveway, she stopped to check the mailbox. She threw the few bills and junk mail in the passenger seat and pulled off. The new subdivision where they lived now was more upper class than where they lived a year ago. They lived on Tobacco Road. The twins’ elementary school was in walking distance, but Summer always picked them up. As she drove further up Tobacco Road, the sun peeked from behind the clouds. She knew the streets would be completely dry by the time she got back.
It didn’t take fifteen minutes for her to make it to her first destination, a small plaza on Windsor Spring Road that held four privately owned businesses. There was one store that a Chinese couple ran, which sold cell phones and pagers. Next to it was a black-owned seafood restaurant; it was small, but the food was good. On the other side of that establishment was a small hair and nail salon that had only six stations. This business was owned by Summer. Danté hadn’t paid more than fifteen thousand for everything, and the rent on the building wasn’t much either. Also, next to the salon was a small carwash that had slow business.
She parked her Infinity at the front door, stopping only a few inches from a yellow painted slab of concrete that read Owner in block letters. She stepped out and walked through one of the double glass doors. A light bell rang, indicating someone had entered. The smell of hot curlers filled the air; she’d smelled it so much that it didn’t bother her.
Summer headed to the back and inserted a key in the wooden door, which had a sign that read Private. Inside the room were a small wooden desk and a swivel chair that squeaked every time it moved. A small picture of Lil’ Danté sat on the desk. The twins were part of a recreation football team, so there was a group photo of them hanging on the wall.
Summer sat down and checked her watch. She knew Ann wouldn’t be in until around nine-thirty or ten o’clock. She picked up her office phone and called her at home. Ann answered the phone, and her and Summer talked for ten minutes. She informed her of the cookout for her brother who was coming home today. Ann was excited and told her she’d be there. Summer was anxious, probably more than anyone else except Rodney. This will be his day, she thought.
An hour and twenty minutes later, Danté whipped his white Lexus Coupe into the parking lot of Johnson State Prison located in an extremely small county of Georgia called Wrightsville. Danté rode around, and from what he could see the large prison was surrounded by so much barbwire that everything looked silver. He pulled up in front, left the car running, and stepped out. A guard, who emerged from a small brick booth, looked at Danté before his eyes drifted to the Lexus.
“How can I help ya?” the guard finally asked.
I’m pickin’ up Rodney McKey,” Danté said with a cocky attitude.
The officer nodded, turned, and went back inside the booth. Danté posted up against his car, waiting with his arms folded and looking around from behind a dark pair of Versace shades. No more than twenty minutes later, Rodney appeared on the other side of the fence. The officer opened the walk-thru gate for him. He was dressed in state-issued khaki pants, hard-bottom shoes, and a sky blue button-up shirt. His skin was mahogany and smooth as a baby’s ass. His groomed hair had waves and was cut low. Rodney stood six-one, and from what Danté could see he was ripped with muscles.
“Damn, nigga, you must’ve been eatin’ da weights instead of liftin’ dem muthafuckas.”
Rodney laughed and they embraced.
“I’m glad you home, nigga,” Danté said.
“You!” Rodney was definitely excited. “Bruh, I been waitin’ almost five years.”
Danté looked at his attire and remembered how he wore almost the same thing when he came home from boot camp. “I got clothes in da car. Some real playa’ shit.”
Rodney walked around to the passenger’s side and got in. After Danté got in on his side, he looked at Rodney before actually pulling off.
“Summa supposed to be inviting a few friends ova’ fo’ da cookout.”
“What cookout?” he asked while brushing his hair and looking in the visor mirror. Then he glanced over at Danté and said, “I’m ready to get to da money.”
Clutching a small remote for his system, Danté pressed a button, and within seconds, the sounds of Tupac’s Thug Life CD filled the atmosphere. Their heads nodded in unison.
“I gotcha, nigga. Jus’ chill.”
Rodney reclined his seat and looked out the tinted window as they exited the prison parking lot. “I’ma change clothes at da Hardees up da street,” he said, wanting to get away from that place as quickly as possible.
They rode away with “Straight Ballin’” on repeat.
Chapter 14
A green Acura Legend pulled up in front of Summer’s house and parked. Three females stepped out. Tonya, a friend of Ann and Summer’s, was driving. They knew her from the salon; she was a regular customer who came through once a week. She wore a lavender linen sundress with a split on each side and three-inch matching heels. Her toenails and fingernails were painted red. Her two friends, Angel and Carma, were both in school at Paine College. Angel was from Kentucky, and Carma was from Decatur Georgia. They were well dressed, also, and just came because Tonya had asked them to come.
Before they could ring the doorbell, three more cars pulled up. One of those cars belonged to Ann. There were three more women with her. Another car behind them was a dark blue convertible 64 Chevy with a booming system. This was Cam, who was alone in his car, but his crew was behind him in a box Chevy. Before long, there were nearly twelve cars at the house.
Summer had started the grill and brought their house system in the backyard. Ann prepared mixed drinks behind a large wood-finished wet bar. After taking a pull of her cigarette, she sat it back in the ashtray. The smoke streamed in her face, but it didn’t bother her. She pulled out a half gallon of Hennessy and filled the blender, along with strawberries, chopped bananas, ice, and some different flavored wine coolers. She’d thought about adding some Moet. She was out the
re now, feeling good herself. This was the way to live, a way of life…or hers anyway.
Summer had over twenty pounds of jumbo shrimp in the sink that had been peeled and sliced in the center. She seasoned them with salt and pepper and drowned them in lemon juice and barbecue sauce. They would marinate for the next thirty minutes and then be placed on the grill.
Cam came through the glass patio door and called Summer’s name. She looked at him from the sink. He had a surprised look on his face.
“Whazzup up?” she asked.
“It’s a white dude out here wit’ a new Lexus on a flatbed.”
“And what am I supposed to do?”
“He said dis is da address he supposed to be dropping it off at.”
Summer didn’t know anything about a new car, but since Danté wasn’t home, she had to go see what was going on. She walked through the house and out the front door. The driver had the flatbed parked at the end of the driveway and was already in motion unloading it. The driver was a fat white guy with a stomach so huge that it looked as if he had a small baby underneath his denim overall suit. He studied Summer as she approached him and extended his huge hand, which Summer shook.
“How ya doin’?” he said. “I’m delivering a car fo’…” He looked at the name on a small piece of paper and then looked at Summer again. “…Rodney McKey.”
She smiled and knew Danté had bought her brother a car. “Park it around back,” she told him. “The fence is open on the right.”
“The delivery fee is forty-six dollars.’”
She nodded and went inside. Upstairs in the master bedroom, she removed two twenty-dollar bills and a ten from the dresser drawer. When she got back downstairs, the fat delivery guy was pulling the Lexus around the side, while two guys who Summer didn’t know were holding the gate open, Cam was directing the driver, guiding him with his left arm. The fat guy parked the Lexus in the center of the lawn, got out, removed a small ribbon from the trunk, and stuck it on the hood using two strips of masking tape. The keys were left in the ignition. Summer gave the fat guy the money, and he left with a four-dollar tip. Of course, Danté would have given him more.
*****
Rodney glanced around at the car’s interior that was peanut-butter brown and extremely soft underneath his fingertips.
“Man dis a hard-ass car, my nigga,” he said, smiling.
Danté rode silently for several seconds before he glanced over at Rodney and replied, “Dis my baby, bruh.”
“I got to have me one,” Rodney said.
The cell phone rang, and Danté answered. It was Summer; she sounded excited upon hearing Rodney’s voice in the background. When Danté asked her if someone had delivered his “package”, she told him yes. Speaking in code, he told her to put it under the cover; he wanted to surprise his road dawg. Then Danté handed Rodney the phone.
“Whuzzup, lil’ mama?” he asked.
“Jus’ chillin’ and shit. Sippin’ on some Henny.”
“Hey, Rodney!” a voice shouted in the background.
“Who was that?” he asked excitedly.
“There’s a few friends over here.”
“Put da best lookin’ one on da phone.”
“Ain’t gonna get in the middle of that. Everybody here already saw yo’ pictures. My friend Ann already talkin’ ‘bout you like…you know.”
He laughed, remembering he’d talked to Ann a few times when he called the salon collect trying to catch Danté, who told him plain and simple she wasn’t cute but that her ass was fat to death.
He looked at Danté and asked, “How long we got before we get there?”
“Tell her ‘bout thirty minutes.”
“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” he told Summer, then asked, “You talk to Mama today?”
“Yeah, she doin’ alright.”
“I’ma stop by there first.”
“Alright. Tell Danté I’ma start grillin’,” she replied before ending the call.
Danté was pushing seventy down a tree-lined country road with the music on low. They drove for a few minutes without saying anything to one another. Then Rodney finally broke the silence between the two.
“Whuzzup wit’ da carwash.”
“I ain’t really had time to get it started. Da license is in both our names, though.”
“You bullshittin’.”
“Dats on everything. All we gotta do is get it runnin’.”
“You ever thought about fuckin’ wit’ da music?” Rodney asked.
Danté shrugged. “Not really. I jus’ try to stay afloat in the streets. You know dem sucka-ass niggas be hatin’ and shit. Dem bitches be tryna count a nigga’s money. I been ridin’ solo fo’ a minute.”
“What kind of money you sittin’ on?”
Danté grinned, took his eyes away from the road for a few seconds, and glanced at Rodney. “Straight up. You wanna know?”
“Damn right, nigga.”
“‘Bout two sixty.”
“Two hundred and sixty thousand!” Rodney responded excitedly, then added, “Now that’s the type of money I’m tryna touch.”
“You will,” Danté uttered. “Trust me.”
Chapter 15
When Danté pulled up in his driveway, Summer came out the front door. Rodney didn’t even get a chance to step out before she rushed him. He eased from the passenger seat, and she jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. They hugged for a while before she finally released him.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him through the front door.
The music blared through the house. This was Rodney’s moment, and he was nervous for a minute. He felt stares from the unknown females that sat around drinking. As Summer introduced her brother to everybody in the living room, Danté came through the door holding two bottles of Cristal champagne. He handed one to Rodney and kept one for himself. Rodney examined the gold bottle as if he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Open dat shit, partna,” Danté told him, smiling. He then went toward the kitchen, and Rodney followed him.
Summer checked her watch and saw that it was time for her to go get the twins from school. Summer walked into the kitchen, where Ann was rolling a blunt at the counter.
“You see him?” Summer whispered while standing next to her.
After sealing the blunt with her thick, moist lips, she looked over at Summer and responded coldly, “I don’t chase no nigga.”
Summer shrugged. “I’ma go get da twins. You gonna ride wit’ me?”
“I might as well,” she said, then added, “I don’t wanna get out of character.”
Ann lit the blunt as they walked through the patio door, leaving an exotic marijuana scent behind. They went over to where Danté and Rodney stood with a few others men. Rodney sipped his champagne straight from the bottle while staring directly at Ann body. She had outstanding wide hips and a huge ass that had to be looked at more than twice.
Holding the blunt between her manicured nails, Ann’s eyes drifted toward Rodney. She caught him staring and turned toward Summer.
“We’ll be right back,” Summer told Danté.
“Where y’all goin’?” Rodney asked, looking straight into Ann’s eyes now.
“We goin’ to get da twins.”
Rodney squinted his eyes. “Let me hit dat blunt.”
“You on parole ain’t ‘cha,” Ann replied seriously. “We need you here, not back in.”
Rodney looked at Danté and then Summer, while everybody waited on him to come back with a fly remark. Instead, he allowed a grin to spread across his face as he stepped closer toward Summer and Ann. Because she only stood 5’5”, he had to lean down to whisper in her ear.
“You got a real jazzy mouth.”
Ann smiled and whispered back, “Wait ‘til you feel it.” Then she took a pull of the blunt.
He hit the bottle, and his entire body tensed up. He could feel himself getting hard.
“I’ll be
right back,” Summer said, then began walking off.
Ann started to follow her, but Rodney grabbed her hand. She looked at him with a flirtatious smile.
“I’ll be ready when you get back,” he whispered in her ear.
She said okay and quickly caught up with Summer. When they got in the car, Ann stubbed the blunt out in the ashtray and sprayed some fruity smelling air freshener. Summer started the engine while Ann was lost in thought.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Ann expressed, looking over at Summer as she pulled off.
“‘Bout him being on parole? You ain’t say nothin’ wrong.”
Ann flashed a wide smile as the weed took effect. “Not that.”
“What did you say?”
“In so many words, I told him I was gonna suck his––”
“Alright!” Summer screamed out before she could finish her sentence.
They both laughed, then talked about Danté and Rodney all the way to the school.
*****
Rodney was savoring a hot piece of fish from the grill when he caught Tonya staring at him from across the yard as she sat on one of the six lawn chairs with another female. Rodney gazed at her for a few seconds, lost in deep thought.
After five long years, I’m here now…in the street, on the street. I got to get right, and I need a ride-or-die type of bitch.
Danté nudged him. “Nigga, you ain’t heard shit I said.”
Rodney looked at him. “Whuzzup…whuzzup?”
“Come on,” Danté said and began walking toward the car that was under a beige cover. Rodney followed, staggering a little. Danté removed the thick cover from the Lexus. The ribbon was perfect on the hood, and the car gleamed on the spring evening. Rodney couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost shed a tear, but managed to contain himself. He gave Danté a look filled with emotion, and then they shared a hug, both feeling the love in their heart for one another.
“You my nigga,” Danté said. “I love you, partna.”
Rodney held on to his partner with a strong embrace. He felt his eyes getting watery, but he wouldn’t allow a tear to fall. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you, too, dawg.”