A Project Chick

by Nikki Turner

  Tressa was sitting at the stop light when one of her all time favorite songs came on. She turned the volume knob up almost as loud as it could go. The music at the beginning of the song got her excited, then she began to sing word for word. Tressa was "Shaking her thang" just the way Salt-N-Pepa were telling her to!

  Word for word, the whole song flowed out of her mouth as if she had wrote the lyrics herself. She had memorized this song and just about every other one of Salt-N-Pepa's songs.

  In addition to washing and detailing cars, Big Willie's sold pagers and cell phones, so he had a lot of things going on and a lot of people coming in and out.

  Although Big Willie's looked like a cheap run down brick building on the outside, inside he only used state of the art equipment. The "decor" consisted of cheap plastic chairs and an old raggedy sofa, with two of the cushions missing, for the customers to sit while waiting. It was rumored that it was definitely a front for the owner, who sold more drugs then a little bit, but so was almost every black owned business that prospered. Tressa decided to go in and pretend she was looking for a new pager while her car was being washed. When she walked in, the men all stared at her because they had never seen her before.

  Tressa walked up to the counter and the guy who fronted like he was the owner, but he was just that, a front man. The fake Jake bragged 24-7, around the clock, like all 108

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  of that was his. Tressa could see right through it all because he tried too hard.

  He tried to hit on her with the weak come on line.

  "Damn, baby where I know you from?" Holding his chin, trying to act as if he was figuring it out, while the other guys looked on.

  "Boo, that's the oldest line in the book," Tressa said with a slight laugh.

  Just then, Boo-Boo walked up and rescued her from whack Jack.

  Boo-Boo and Tressa had gone to elementary school together. Boo-Boo was one of those guys who didn't really have to hustle. Growing up, he never knew what struggle was, his middle class parents provided him with whatever his little heart desired. His older sister became a veterinarian, while he went on become a nickel and dime hustler. He was presented with every opportunity that his sister was, but he wanted to fit in with the street fellas, for it always seemed as if they had the most fun.

  "What's up Tressa?" Boo-Boo asked.

  "Nothing much." Tressa replied, happy to see Boo-Boo, but at the same time, she wasn't sure if Boo-Boo was really happy to see her since she had gotten Wiggles cleaned up and off the crack pipe.

  "You look gooder than a mafucka." He said, shaking his head.

  "Thanks."

  "You seen Wiggles lately?"

  Not knowing what really to say to Boo-Boo under the circumstances, and Boo-Boo could feel the awkwardness, so he spoke up. "I want you to know that I got so much respect for you. The way you had your own issues going on and you took out the time to clean Wiggles up. I ain't gonna lie, it kinda messed me up at first. But after seeing her progress and her faithfully going to her meetings, I saw how important it was for her and ya kids. She loves them so much, that's all she talks about, are her nephews."

  "Thanks Boo-Boo. For a minute there I thought you was a lil' pissed cause I got into it."

  "Naw, I am happy for her. But look, let me pull your coat to something."

  "What?"

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  "The old head, Mr. Bill, who owns this place, wanna holler at you. He the old cat over there in the blue jumpsuit."

  She looked over, and all she could see, was a man that was so black he looked dark enough to match the oil wearing a greasy jumpsuit. Without a doubt, the white around his pupils in his round pop eyes stood out. He was a slim guy that looked liked he stunk, after seeing the sweat roll down his face, while he gave directions and worked at the same time.

  "Who you talking about, the one looking like a grease monkey?"

  "Yup, but he caked up. Dude got money. Quiet as it's kept, he's the owner, all this is his. All these dudes acting like they head honchos, are just his peons."

  "How though, how he got money? You know I don't mess with no drug dealers no more."

  "He's legit." Boo-Boo assured her.

  Just then her pager went off. She looked down at it and she saw that it was children's daycare center calling. She raced to the phone to call the school, and learned that her boys had gotten into a fight and needed to be picked up.

  Before she wrote down her number and gave it to Boo-Boo to give to Mr. Bill, she thought to herself, you can't judge a book by its cover. People judge me because I live in the projects, but I may live in the projects, but I'm clearly not project. So just because he looks like a grease monkey, I'm not going to judge him.

  She wanted so bad to beat their little butts when she walked into the daycare director's office, especially after the director told her that they were suspended for three days from the center. Tressa was furious, but she held her composure until she got in the car.

  Little Ali kept trying to make small talk with his mother, but she ignored him. Little Hadji, on the other hand knew better. He figured if he kept quiet, his mother would forget all about it and wouldn't punish them when they got home.

  Tressa stopped at the gas station to get some gas.

  At first she cut the car off, then she thought about how much of a headache it would be to get both of the boys out of their booster seats, and she wasn't in the mood. So, she 110

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  started the car back up and hopped out to pump the gas.

  She glanced at the inside of the service station, decided to pump the gas first before she paid, due to the long line.

  When she was done, there were only two people ahead of her in line.

  Tressa looked at the counter at the Mr. Goodbar, Snickers, M&M's and Starburst candies. It was so automatic for her to buy the boys something when she went into the store, but not this day. Her rule of the thumb was, kids that showed off at school don't get any treats.

  "Ten dollars on pump 4." She said and handed the money to the attendant and walked out of the store to receive the scare of her life.

  When she looked over at pump four, where her car was, the car was rolling slowly with both of her children in it! She was in such a panic, she instantly froze and all she could do was scream, "Hellllppppp!!!! Please someone help!!! Oh God, HELPPP!!!! My children are in the car!" Her heart started racing as she saw the bits and pieces of monumental moments in the three years of her boys life replay in her head. At that moment, she started running behind her car, screaming at the top of her lungs,

  "HELP!" She was running so fast, she forget about her platform boots she had on and she slipped up and fell flat on her face. She continued to scream, all the while trying to get up, and praying at the same time. "God, please don't let any harm come to my sons. God they are all I got." At that very moment, she saw a young black guy running past her. All she could make out was his gold chain swinging side to side while he sprinted towards the car. Then, a white man appeared with some neon green running shoes, darting over to assist in catching the car.

  Although both strangers, never laying eyes on each other, worked as if they were indeed a trained team. It didn't matter that one was black and the other was white, or one was old and the other young. What mattered was them coming together saving those two little boys, and that's exactly what they did.

  Mr. Gold Chain ran to the driver's side and opened up the door, and neon green jogging shoes somehow caught up with the car and open up the passenger side of the car.

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  the first time he attempted to jump in, but succeeded the next time and got in. They were both surprised to see that there were two little mischievous boys in the car. Lil Hadji was at
the wheel, but it was Little Ali that was in the floor trying to figure out how to make the pedals go faster. Gold Chain reached over and put the car in gear, while neon green running shoes grabbed Little Ali off the pedals.

  Tressa, now on her feet, ran over to the car, although it felt like the pounding of her heart weighed her down. She had broke put in a cold sweat, although it was close to 90 degrees outside.

  Even though the car was stopped, and her boys were safe, Tressa's heart continued to beat fast. Was it the fact that she had made the mistake of leaving the car on? Was it the fact that she was so angry, she wanted to whip her sons' butts from the gas station all the way home? She ran over to the car and demanded that both boys get back in their car seats.

  "I don't know what's wrong with ya'll? I promise you, you are going to get it when you get home." Tressa said.

  Hadji looked at Gold Chain with his big convincing eyes. "Please tell my momma don't beat us. Please." He begged and tried to con Gold Chain.

  No words could ever express how truly grateful she was as she walked over to thank both guys. Neon green jogging suit simply said. "Glad I could help. Next time, don't leave the car on." He simply walked off, happy that he had been a good Samaritan.

  On the other hand, Gold Chain just kind of hung around. This was the first time she had got a really good look at him and he was FINE!!! She looked him over and realized that he was the suave and debonair type, and she would really have to stoke his ego. She could tell that he wasn't the Superman type of guy to rescue anyone. For he was too much of the pretty boy, fly type of guy. Gold chain was the kind that would get a haircut twice a week and surely threw a tantrum if his Timberland boots got one scratch or scuff on them. Gold chain's Versace sweatpants were fresh out of the cleaners, with no creases down the middle, but an inch away from the side stitching on the Versace sweatpants. The collar of the zip up sweat suit 112

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  jacket rested flat, indicating that it too was fresh out of the cleaners. He was a deep dark chocolate complexion, with a mouth full of gold teeth.

  Ullll, she thought to herself. I hope his breath don't stink. Damn, I wish he wouldn't have even opened up his mouth! But since he did, let me see what he has to say.

  With what sounded like a fake whine to Gold Chain, Tressa said to Gold Chain. "Thank you so much. Thank you, thank you and thank you. I can't thank you enough." He shook his head. "No problem, I'm always happy to help a sister out. Those lil' dudes you got is off the chain."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "What's your name honey?"

  "Tressa, and yours?"

  "Jacko"

  "No, sweetie your government name. I know good and well your mother didn't name you Jacko."

  "No, it's Jack, but they call me Jacko." They talked the small talk a couple more minutes and then he popped the question. "Look, you look like you are having a pretty fucked up day. I'd like to take you out for a drink or something."

  Tressa was a bit flattered that a male was finally asking her out. She hadn't been with a man since she left Lucky. Just the hustle and bustle of being mother and father, trying to make ends meet, which seemed like such an easy task only eight months earlier, was keeping her so busy that she had kind of lost sight of finding companionship for herself. Then not to mention, she had to keep up her guard up. She was fully aware that Lucky was not going to let them live in peace, not over his dead body anyway. Lastly, could he be trusted? He seemed nice, but he could be just another Lucky in disguise?

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  -13-

  Meal Tickets

  Rinnnng, Rinnnnng, Rinnnnng. I wish this heifer would answer the damn phone.

  "Hello, you have reached the voice mailbox of Linda Blue, social worker with the Richmond City Department of Social Services." "Now ain't this some shit. " Tressa said, shaking her head while continuing to listen to the recording. Is this chick ever at her desk? What are they paying her for, to retrieve messages?

  "I am away from desk or interviewing another client.

  Please leave your name, number and a brief message and I will return your call at my earliest convenience. Please remember to report all changes in your household." Beep.

  "Yes, this is Tressa Shawsdale. Ms. Blue, this doesn't make any sense. I have been leaving you messages for days, and now it's been a week, and you have still have not returned my calls. I have turned all my paperwork in and I still haven't received my food stamps yet. I have two young boys who do not understand why there is no food in my house. I hate to have to call your supervisor to report your lack of attention to my predicament, but I will." Tressa slammed the phone down.

  These people make me sick. This is so humiliating. I hate having to depend on the government, especially to eat. It used to be cute not having to pay for food and being able to apply that money to something else, but at the same time, I 115

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  hate feeling like I am begging them to give me a handout.

  Shoot, I remember when Lucky used to come home and hand over six or seven hundred dollars worth of food stamps. I had no problem using them then, and our refrigerator stayed stocked with the best meats, poultry, seafood and snacks for the kids. Now, I just gotta go make it happen for us.

  Tressa continued to think how screwed up the system was. She had never had any dealings with the welfare system until now. She needed food stamps to eat, Medicaid for her children so they could go to the doctor, and state funded daycare to watch the children while she worked. She knew now she had to work. But, she realized that the system was put in place for those having hard times and needed a break to get ahead. But how so? She could never understand. The welfare system, in her eyes, seemed to be set up and only works for those who sit on their asses and collect a check. Not for the working individuals that are really trying.

  I wonder why, as soon as I got my little seven dollars and fifty cents an hour job, it seemed like I was doing worse than when I didn't have a job. At first, my rent was only $25.00, now it's gone up to $303.00. My daycare was free when I was laying around not working anywhere, only pretending to look for work, now they have raised it to $130.00 a month. I know $130.00 is good for two children, because before I was paying $130.00 a week per child, which is still crazy. Some women are better off just staying at home raising their own children. Shoot, I used to get over four hundred dollars a month in food stamps, and now all I can get is $127.00 to feed all three of us. Then to top it off, this worker takes all day to process my damn food stamps. She got the nerve to tell me to be sure to report all the changes in the household. Shoot, for what? For them to continue to cut my benefits all the way off, I don't think so. If I make four, five or six hundred extra dollars, you think I am going to tell them? I used to laugh and look down on people who get locked up for welfare fraud, but I can't much blame them. Seems like you have to commit some fraud just to stay afloat.

  Tressa's old neighbor, Joan's sister, Shelly, owned an interior decorating firm. Now, Shelly was so much different from Joan. Shelly was in her late fifties, had been 116

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  divorced three times, and all her ex's were very wealthy men. Each husband paid off like Big Game lottery tickets, which left her bank account as big as Texas. She possessed much attitude and spunk. She weighed a hundred and twenty-five pounds, had dyed dirty blond hair, and a beautiful flawless red tan, that made her complexion resemble that of a light brown black woman. Shelly stood 5'4", and had tried every kind of plastic surgery to enhance her physical appearance, from liposuction, tummy tuck, breast implants, face lifts to hormone shots to enlarge her behind. The physical enhancements, combined with her money, made her hell on wheels. Shelly loved to brag about and spend her money. She may have looked like a bim
bo or a kept woman, but she was a hell of a businesswoman.

  With Shelly's cold, bitter attitude, there would always be someone fed up with Shelly and eventually they would quit her. So, Joan managed to convince Shelly that Tressa would be the perfect candidate for the receptionist position, which later, the responsibility of buyer was eased into her lap, though there was no wage increase.

  Although Tressa had no prior experience in interior design, Joan always admired the eye she had for decorating the house that she used to reside in with Lucky. Shelly was certain that Tressa would just mess up, but as a favor to her sister, she gave her a shot. And to her surprise, Tressa, the lowest paid employee, worked harder than any other staff member Shelly employed.

  It took everything in Tressa to give her social services income verification forms to Shelly to fill out. She was so embarrassed that the cat was out of the bag that she received welfare benefits. Shelly would surely let Joan know exactly how hard life was without Lucky. She didn't want anybody feeling sorry for her or looking down on her. The humiliation really sat in, when she thought about how Shelly would look at her as a charity case, and maybe dog her out concerning her job responsibilities. She thought Shelly would try to talk down to her, and lose all respect for her because she knew Tressa needed the job.

  Frustration filled Tressa's body after examining the whole scenario. Her pride was fighting her to not give the forms to Shelly, and just doing without the benefits. Then next, she thought about how there was nobody else to help 117

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  her provide for her children, and her low paying job was barely enough to make the basic bills. Taking those things into consideration, she swallowed her pride and handed the forms to Shelly to fill out.