by K'wan
“My nerves are so bad that I’d smoke some dirt right now and love it. Give me the Dutch so I can spin, because you know your ass can’t roll, Gucci.”
“Please, Tionna,” Gucci tossed her the Dutch Master, “we can’t all be fucking addicts.”
“Say what you want, but the chronic ain’t never did nothing to me.” Tionna proceeded to split the Dutch and empty the guts into a plastic bag, spinning the blunt in less than a minute. She had just lit it when Gucci tapped her leg.
“Hold that down.” Gucci nodded in the direction of the Senate. The four old men were trying their best to garner the attention of a well-built brown-skinned woman. She wore her hair in a high black weave, trimmed in blue to match her blue nail polish and eye shadow. A pair of tight capri pants hugged her large but shapely thighs. She must’ve felt Gucci and Tionna staring at her because she cast her blue contact lenses in their direction.
“Damn.” Gucci rolled her eyes.
“Don’t try to hide it, bitches, because I smell it.” The woman snapped her fingers, jiggling her icy bangles. Her clear-heeled pumps clicked against the broken concrete as she made her way over to them. “For as much food as y’all asses done devoured in my house, I know you ain’t gonna act stink over a punk-ass blunt!” Her voice was way louder than it needed to be.
“Don’t cause a scene, ma,” Gucci said through clenched teeth.
“Cause a scene? Gucci, your mother is the scene!” She spun around so that her daughter could see she still had it, as if the belly shirt didn’t show enough.
“Hey, Ms. Ronnie.” Tionna smiled.
“What’s up, T.T. baby.” Ronnie leaned in and hugged her. “Girl, you know I’ve been praying for you, right? It’s a terrible thing that happened to you, but the devil is a lie, and as sure as my ass is black, the truth shall be revealed.” She stomped her foot for emphasis. “Me and ya mama raised y’all to be warriors, Tionna, so I know you’re gonna be alright.” Ronnie waggled her right hand in the air. “As long as you keep him first, you’ll always be alright.”
Gucci rolled her eyes at her mother. “Listen to you talking ’bout praise him and you over here trying to hit the weed. That ain’t very Christian, Mama.”
Ronnie cut her eyes at her youngest child. “And?” She placed her hands on her hips. “I believe that we all have a right to receive the Lord’s blessing, and he sure blessed the world with cannabis, so pass that so I can receive.” Gucci sucked her teeth and handed her mother the blunt. “So,” Ronnie addressed Tionna, “what you got lined up for yourself?”
Tionna shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just kick back for a minute to get my head together and then plan my next move.”
Ronnie took a deep drag of the blunt and expelled the smoke through her nose. “Kick back? Kicking back ain’t gonna pay the bills, Tionna.”
“I know, Ms. Ronnie. I just got a lot on my mind right now and I need to clear my head so I can focus on getting right, ya know?”
“No, I don’t know. When Gucci’s daddy got knocked, I fell all to pieces. Though he might not have been the most upwardly mobile nigga, he kept me laid and paid!” Ronnie declared. “Having leaned on men most of my life, I had no clue how I was gonna do for us.” She nodded toward Gucci. “We had a little money, but with the way I was used to spending, it didn’t last very long. It wasn’t until I damn near hit the bottom of the glass that I finally decided to get off my ass and make something happen for myself.”
“Is that when you started working for the post office?” Tionna asked.
Ronnie twisted her lips. “Hell nah. That’s when I went and got me another baller! You better get back in the saddle, T.”
The girls damn near fell over laughing. Ronnie was a trip and a half, but one thing you could always count on her for was some hard truth. Tionna knew that her back was against the wall, but she didn’t want to face it. Her mother had always tried to drill independence and education into her, but Tionna couldn’t see it. She saw the power her aunts and cousins held over men with what they had between their legs and figured that would be a greater asset to her than a diploma. Seeing her man carted off to prison and all their possessions seized had snatched the wool from her eyes and showed her what it really was. She’d spent countless nights since Duhan’s arrest crying and stressing over what she was going to do. The only thing that kept her standing straight was the fact that she wouldn’t allow the haters from her old neighborhood to see her broken. Still, it didn’t change the fact that she was on her last legs and would have to shit or get off the pot.
“You ain’t gotta worry about me, Ms. Ronnie. I might’ve slipped, but I haven’t fallen just yet,” Tionna assured her.
“I know that’s right.” Ronnie gave her a high five. A blue Saturn with two girls riding in the front coasted by and beeped the horn. “Who the hell was that?” Ronnie asked, trying to get a look at the duo.
“It looked like Billy.” Gucci craned her neck to get a last look.
“You mean William,” Ronnie snickered.
“Ma, you need to stop.”
“Gucci, you know that chick is rougher than most.”
Gucci sucked her teeth. “Billy ain’t gay; she got a man, and a fine one at that.”
“That don’t mean shit. You ain’t never heard the phrase down low?” Ronnie asked.
Seeing Reese made Tionna think of Sharon, and that put her in a sour mood. “If you ask me, there’s something wrong with that whole shot-out-ass crew. From that stinking ass Reese to that crazy bitch Yoshi.”
“Now that ain’t right.” Ronnie pointed her finger at Tionna accusingly.
“I ain’t the one who put it out there, I’m just repeating what I heard,” Tionna defended.
“Yo, I heard that before Jah got killed, he told Yoshi that he was fucking Reese, too, and that’s what made her wig out,” Gucci said.
“It wouldn’t surprise me, because all the bitches in that family are nasty as hell.” Tionna folded her arms.
“I can’t cosign that because they mama is good peoples,” Ronnie said. “Little Sharon need her ass beat, and Reese just can’t get right. If them rich-ass rappers would’ve run a train on me, my ass would be paid.”
“Don’t no rappers want that worn-ass coochie,” Gucci teased her.
“Don’t underestimate ya mama, Gucci: this old pussy still got the snap of a bitch half your age!”
“Ma, you need to quit.” Gucci laughed. “Yo, speaking of Jah, you seen Tech lately?”
“Who, little purse-snatching-ass Tech?” Tionna cocked her head.
“He ain’t little no more, T. That nigga done grew in paper and status,” Gucci said.
“If you know like I know, ya little hot ass will stay away from him. That boy is rotten, inside and out. Tionna, you better talk to ya girl,” Ronnie warned. Ronnie might’ve been out of the loop, but she knew what the streets said about Tech and the young crew he ran with. They whispered that he was the hardest young boy on the streets, but not long ago there had been one harder. Like so many, Jah’s eyes had been closed way too early, but it was written that way for him, as it was with all the men in his family. Jah’s life came to a tragic end, and where his legacy ended, the reign of the Tech had begun.
“Ain’t nobody gotta tell me nothing; I’m grown,” Gucci said, snatching the blunt from her mother. “Y’all acting like I’m trying to marry the nigga when all I’m saying is that he can get it.”
“A hard head makes a soft ass, Gucci,” Ronnie told her.
“Then that must be why mine is pillow soft.” Gucci ran her hand down her thigh.
“Young tramp,” Ronnie capped.
“Old whore,” Gucci mumbled.
“Y’all are a hot damn mess,” Tionna added.
Gucci rolled her eyes. “If that ain’t the pot.”
Ronnie pulled Tionna close to her. “Stop being such a hater, Gucci.” She stroked Tionna’s head. “You gonna be alright, T. We gonna find you another sponsor with deeper pocke
ts.”
“Fuck a pocket; he better have a damn good insurance policy. And if you even think about fucking him, you’d better make sure you’re the beneficiary, because Duhan is sure gonna cash it in.”
“Duhan is sitting on the Island, waiting on a trip to Auburn or wherever the hell they’re sending our babies these days,” Ronnie said.
“I ain’t worried about that. It’s a bullshit case and it ain’t gonna stick. Duhan has a good chance at coming home,” Tionna protested.
Ronnie folded her arms and looked at Tionna very seriously. “Tionna, they offered him ten years on a cop-out, so it’s a good guess that they got some kinda case on him. Sweetie, one thing I’ve learned from being in the streets is how to spot a sour case. They caught him with his hands in the cookie jar, ma; his chances of beating it are slim to none.” Though there was no malice in her tone when she said it, Ronnie’s statement still stung Tionna deep in her chest.
When they rushed the crib they found guns, money, weed, and a few E pills. That, coupled with the fact that Duhan was on parole, was enough to cramp his style, and maybe sit him for a few short years, but it was a friend of a friend that was threatening to take him completely out of the game.
From the first time Duhan had brought Lee around, Tionna hadn’t cared for him. He carried himself like a prison cat and talked way too much to be anybody of importance, but Duhan’s connect, Willie Boy, had vouched for him. Willie was a cinnamon snake whose people hailed from some out-of-the-way spot just shy of the Dominican Republic. Willie got birds wholesale from his great-uncle, who was fighting a case and needed to get his weight up. Duhan would in turn cop weight from Lee, who was Willie’s liaison, at a way cheaper clip that what the rest of Harlem was getting it at. This was how Duhan and his team were able to come up so fast. “He talks too much, but you can count on him. That’s my dude,” was how Willie had introduced Lee to Duhan. Lee was a CI that they’d put on Willie during a three-year investigation that caused the arrests of more than thirty people, including Duhan and Tionna.
“I say fuck a snitch,” Gucci said, reading her best friend’s face. “He better not let me catch him while I’m dirty, or else it’s lights the fuck out.” She slashed the air as if she were cutting someone up with an imaginary knife. She knew the whole spiel about Duhan’s fall and who had pushed him off the ledge. She’d heard that Lee had been spotted around Harlem and the Bronx, but didn’t want to upset her friend with news of his freedom.
Ronnie spit on the floor. “A creepy-ass snitch took my daddy, my man, and two of my brothers. I say fuck him, his mama, and his ugly-ass kids.” Snitches were a sore spot for Ronnie.
“I’m not worried about it, he’s gonna get what he’s got coming,” Tionna said. Since Duhan had gotten the Discovery Package, they’d be trying to think of a fitting punishment for Lee and his disloyalty. Most of Duhan’s clique had gone down with him on the indictment, and the few who were left didn’t have the nuts or the loyalty to do what needed to be done. Tionna hadn’t decided how, but she was dead set on avenging her man.
“Enough of the talk about the rats and their cheese. What you heifers getting into tonight?” Ronnie asked, lighting a Newport 100.
“Probably nothing. I gotta go see Duhan in the morning, so I’m keeping it close to home,” Tionna told her.
“No the hell you’re not,” Gucci said indignantly. “Your ass is coming with me to Mochas.”
“Gucci, I got shit to take care of in the morning; I ain’t trying to be out clubbing.”
“It ain’t a club, T, it’s a lounge, and don’t worry, I won’t keep you up all night. Them dyke guards on Rikers Island will still be able to grope you tomorrow.”
Tionna’s brow furrowed. It had been a while since she’d gone out and had a good time, but with less than a stack in her purse she didn’t feel right. “I don’t know, Gucci, I ain’t got nothing to wear, and who’s gonna watch the kids?”
“Mommy will watch them, won’t you, Ma?” Gucci gave Ronnie a puppy-dog look.
Ronnie snaked her neck. “Bitch, you must’ve fell and knocked loose what little bit of sense the weed ain’t already robbed you of. You know good and damn well that I ain’t watching nobody’s kids, especially not on no Friday.” She shook her head as if the very thought was dreadful. “Nah, baby, y’all can pop fingers and shake ass another night, this one here belongs to me.”
“Not even for a forty of Audubon?” Gucci tempted her.
Ronnie hesitated. She could almost feel the sweet smoke tickling her nose. “A’ight, I’ll keep them until two.”
“Ma, you know it don’t really get going until about one; give us more than an hour,” Gucci tried to bargain.
“Gucci, I gave you life and my Friday night, what more you want from me?”
“Ma, give us until at least three.”
“I’ll give you until two thirty, two forty-five if you bring me a Crave Case from White Castle on your way home.”
“Mommy, I’m already getting you the smoke; how you gonna tack that on?”
Ronnie placed her hands on her hips and let the cigarette bob between her lips when she spoke. “Look, if you don’t like the way I’m putting it down, stay ya asses in the house instead of hoeing.”
“Two thirty is good, thank you,” Tionna said, nudging Gucci’s leg.
“When they come back from the store I’ll take them to McDonald’s and run ’em on in.” Ronnie held her hand out.
“What?” Gucci looked at her funny.
“You said watch ’em, not feed ’em.” She looked back and forth between Gucci and Tionna. Gucci looked at Tionna, who just shrugged her shoulders. Grudgingly, Gucci handed her mother a twenty. Ronnie tucked it in her bra and smiled. “Two thirty, bitches. Don’t have me come looking for you.” She strutted across the street. Cords said something slick to her, which caused Ronnie to flip him off.
“Your mother is still off da hook.” Tionna elbowed Gucci.
“You know ain’t nothing changed wit’ Mommy. Yo ass into me for twenty dollars and a favor, so you’re gonna ride it to the end, bitch.”
“Gucci, I ain’t trying to break night wit’ ya crazy ass,” Tionna warned.
“Ease up, Scary J., we ain’t gonna break night, but we’re gonna throw it on and have a hella time. Come on.” Gucci grabbed Tionna’s hand and pulled her off the stoop. “We gonna go catch the Dominicans around the corner to get you right, and then we’re gonna dig some of that gangsta shit you got outta them nasty-ass laundry bags. Tonight, Harlem is gonna recognize that a boss bitch is back on the scene!”
CHAPTER 7
“Look at them fucking stoop rats.” Reese sneered, looking out the passenger window as the Saturn cruised across 140th Street. All of them got dirty looks, but her eyes lingered on Tionna.
“You’re one to talk,” Billy said, not bothering to look over at Reese. For as much bullshit as she had going on in her life, she was always trying to pick people apart. It made Billy mad as hell, because that wasn’t how she rocked, but they had been down since forever so she tolerated it.
“You can’t be serious. I ain’t never been nothing like them little whores.” Reese brushed a strand of her shoulder-length microbraids from her face. Since she’d had little Alex her face had cleared and was now smooth and healthy-looking. “She so stupid, wanting to fight over a nigga when he’s hitting everything in a skirt. That’s my word—these little bitches is chicken heads.”
“Reese, your ass is too old to be out here indulging in your sister’s teenage-ass beef, so knock it off. If anything, that cat Duhan needs to get locked up for sleeping with Sharon’s little ass in the first place; fuck beefing about Tionna.” Whereas Reese was a brown-sugar tone, Billy’s skin was closer to olive leaves. Her hair was braided into two pigtails that dipped just below her shoulders.
“Billy, it ain’t even about what’s going on between Sharon and that bitch Tionna, it’s the fact that she looks down her nose at everybody else. The way she was carrying i
t you would’ve thought that Duhan was the second coming of Fritz or some shit. Now look: his ass got knocked and she’s back to slumming on this sorry-ass block.”
Billy looked at her now. “Reese, you know how it was for us when we were their ages, couldn’t nobody tell us shit! Me, you, Yoshi, and even Rhonda’s crazy ass, we were living like ghetto divas, but look how it played out for the crew,” Billy reminded her.
“Whatever.” Reese tried to brush her statement off, but it lingered in the back of her mind. In their prime, the quartet of young hood honeys kicked off a series of events that would be whispered in the same breaths as Larry Davis’s famed police battle. Each of the girls was dancing on the edge of a different razor. Rhonda and her head games, Yoshi and her torn heart, and Reese with her need for love . . . it all ended horribly. The murders of Rhonda and Jah had taken a piece of them all into the afterlife with them, but it was Yoshi who would take the longest to heal. No matter how much time had passed, her heart would always bleed for Jah.
“But I ain’t really trying to stroll down memory lane,” Billy said, voicing what both of them felt, “but you do need to check your little sister about the way she’s out here living. There’s too much shit going around for her to fuck around and end up burnt or . . .” Billy let her words trail off, but it was already out there.
Reese had made the mistake of letting a pit full of vipers convince her that they were all garter snakes. Since she was a little girl all she’d ever wanted was to be the wife of a star, and in pursuing the infamous Don B., she thought she could taste it. At the end of the day, all she proved to be was light entertainment for him and his crew. The scars to her soul and her womanhood were slowly beginning to heal, but every time she looked at her daughter, Alex, and wondered who her father was, she was reminded of the encounter.
“My sister ain’t gonna be me, Billy,” Reese said, staring out the window. “I’d kill her before I let her make the mistakes I did.”
Billy placed her hand over Reese’s. “We ain’t gonna let it get that far.”