Another Rumble (A Rumble in VA)

by Rayven Skyy

  I had no intentions of calling Ms. Janis. I knew better. Instead, I called Maine. I was ready to throw the phone at Sabrina for not doing what I told her to do in the first place. I put the cell phone down on the bed once I was finished using it.

  “Call Maine when you getting ready to leave the hospital. He gon’ meet you downstairs,” I told her, and then I turned my head. I didn’t even want to look at her ass.

  “I had planned on staying the night.”

  “For what?” I turned around.

  “Crowd control.”

  “Look, say what the fuck you got to say,” I said, folding my hands together in my lap.

  “Every day I come up here there’s a different bitch trying to get in here to see you,” she raised her voice.

  “Man, I bet you better miss me with that bullshit. I ain’t but two seconds off yo’ ass anyway.”

  “Oh, but Ms. Nicole seems to think she is special. Old friend huh, Milton?”

  Seven hells jumped inside of me. “Bitch, I know damn well you ain’t trying to act like you got no fuckin’ attitude ‘bout no bitches, and you the one running ‘round this mothafucka fucking out both sides of your thong!” Now I know what people mean when they say their blood is boiling.

  “Sabrina, get the fuck out my room,” I said and waved my hand towards the door.

  “You even went out and found one who looked just like me. I guess I should be flattered.”

  I sat all the way up in the bed and then flung the covers off me. It was time for me to get up and get shit under control, starting with Sabrina. “A’ight, jokes over!” I stood up on the side of the bed. “Let me tell yo‘ ass something…”

  The Game!

  Once I got out of the hole I was moved to another floor of the jail, and now I share a cell with two white boys. The lawyer my cousin hired came to see me this morning and he told me that he should be able to get me back in front of a judge for another bond hearing, but it might take two weeks because the courts are so backed up.

  A nigga would die in this jail if they had to survive on the food they served you. I know I have lost a few pounds since I have been in here. Nikki set the phone account up, and she also put some money on the books for me so I was able to order me some shit to eat along with some personal hygiene products.

  My grandma isn’t taking granddads death too well, and that is to be expected. They had been together for over forty years and my granddad was all that she knew. She told me that she was going to sell their house because it was too hard for her to be there without my granddad. I feel guilty about missing his funeral. I should have been there. Now I am starting to regret ever coming up here to Virginia. Aside from meeting Sabrina, I didn’t accomplish a damn thing.

  Being in the hole gave me a chance to think about a lot of shit. I watched my granddad run the streets all my life. I not only wanted to emulate him, I wanted to be him. Had I died that night, or any other night that I had been shot at, the only thing I would have left in this world to show that I was here was money. I want more out of life than what I have now. It has to be more to it than just hustling. I never thought I would say this, but the game ain’t for me anymore.

  Adventures In Dickland!

  I have been told on more than one occasion that there was a striking resemblance between me and this Sabrina, but I have to disagree. That bitch ain’t got shit on me. She was about to get a two piece, no fries, and no shake had we not been in a public setting. Ain’t no need for her to try and cock block now. She should have thought about that before she left the door open for another bitch to walk in. My only mistake was not giving Milk some of this good pussy before he was shot.

  “Nicole, you need anything from the hair supply store?”

  “Huh,” I said, turning around.

  “Where is your mind at?” Angelle laughed.

  “Girl, I’m in a world of my own. What did you ask me?”

  “I’m going to the hair supply store later on. Do you need anything?”

  “Naw, I’m good. Thanks anyway,” I turned around and then went back to organizing my station.

  “So, did you call him again after that night, Janea?” Angelle asked.

  “Hell nawl,” she answered. “Fuck me once wrong, shame on you. Fuck me wrong twice, shame on me. Hold your head back for me Nadia,” Janea told her client.

  “I know that’s right, Janea,” Angelle laughed. “You can overlook some small shit, but the dick game has got to be on point.”

  “Now Dezo,” Janea looked around the salon to see who was listening. “That little ass nigga got a big dick.”

  Janea could tell you any and everything you ever wanted to know about dick because that’s what most of her conversations consisted of. She could tell you about big dick, little dick, black dick, brown dick, whack dick, purple dick, rainbow dick and any other form of a dick, because she fucked just about every dick in the Hampton Roads area. Janea’s philosophy was the same as Samantha Jones from the TV show Sex and The City, because she too believed that women should embrace their inner freak and experience everything sex had to offer. She must have gotten some on her lunch break because she has been in rare form since she came back, and Janea did not have a problem with sharing her adventures in Dickland with anyone who would listen.

  “Janea you fucked Dezo?” Lea the shop owner asked, while folding towels.

  “I didn’t say I fucked him I just said he had a big dick. Is your scalp burning?” She looked down at Nadia who shook her head no.

  Lea and Angelle looked at each other and said in unison, “She fucked him.” Even I had to join in on the laughter this time. Janae was a hot mess.

  “Damn, sho’ did.” Janea laughed too. “Okay Nadia, I’mma’ meet you at the sink,” she said as she turned around. “You can sit in my chair Mena,” Janea said to her next client.

  “Don’t y’all think that sex is starting to become a little overrated?” Lea asked no one in particular.

  “Women who say that just haven‘t been fucked right.” Janae placed a towel around her client’s neck followed by one of her monogrammed capes.

  “That’s not true Janae. I have been with some of the best. Sex is just not as important to me as it was at one time, and I don’t think it should carry so much weight in a relationship,” Lea responded.

  “Keyword here being re-la-tion-ship. Don’t do them shits. Niggas don’t play fair,” she said as she applied a base around Mena’s forehead, neck, and then behind her ears. “I don’t know when y’all gon’ wake the hell up and realize that. Stop sitting around waiting on Mr. Right and settle for Mr. Right Now.” Janea started to work the relaxer in Mena’s hair, but she never stopped talking. “Prime example, Milk and Sabrina.”

  Not only was Janea part Samantha, she was also some kin to Suzie from the reality show Basketball Wives because she too had diarrhea of the mouth when it came to other folk’s business All Janea needed was an audience just like the one she had today.

  “What about Milk and Sabrina?” Angelle asked.

  “Uh… umm…”

  I had my back turned to them, and when I heard Lea clear her throat I looked in her direction through the mirror. She was motioning her head towards me.

  “What was that for, Lea?” I turned around.

  “What was what?” She tried to play it off, but it was too late because I saw her ass.

  “The head nod. What was that for?” I asked.

  “I thought you two had something going on, and I didn’t want to offend you that’s all,” she said as she flashed a phony smile at me.

  “Well, you thought wrong,” I said while turning back around. I wouldn’t tell any of these nosey heifers in this shop any of my business.

  “Nicole knows better than to get mixed up with Milk, don’t cha’ baby girl?” I looked at Janea thru the mirror. “That nigga is the ultimate whore, but good dick though,” she added.

  “Janea,” Lea started laughing.

  “Janea, what?” she looked a
t Lea. “Who hasn’t fucked Milk?”

  “I haven’t,” Lea answered.

  “Well, how does it feel to be alone?” Janea asked.

  “Girl, you terrible,” Lea shook her head.

  “I heard Milk and Asia was fucking around behind Sabrina’s back, and he had a baby by her,” Angelle said.

  “Bitch, you late.” Janea went on to tell the ladies the entire scoop she heard about Milk and Asia. That’s another thing I hated about working in this shop! There were too many cackling hens, and that went for some of the clients, too.

  “Damn, that’s some grimy shit to do to somebody,” Lea put her two cents in.

  “Ain’t it?” Janea left Mena at her station and walked over to the sink area. “If I was Sabrina, I would have cut that nigga the fuck up.” She turned the water on, and once the temperature was to her liking she started to rinse the perm out of Nadia’s hair. “Just get you a man with a hook dick Lea and you will never again say that sex is overrated.”

  “Hook dick?” Lea frowned up her face. “What’s a hook dick, Janae?”

  “If you have to ask, you ain’t ever had one,” Janae replied as she hi-fived her client.

  “It’s a dick with a curve in it Lea, damn,” Angelle told her.

  “Oh, well that’s all she had to say. I call it curved dick.” Lea smiled.

  “But have you ever had one is the question?” Janae was now talking over the running water loud enough so everyone in the shop could hear her.

  “Yeah I had one before,” Lea replied.

  “And?” Janae stopped washing her clients hair and waited for Lea to respond. “And what?”

  It was alright,” she answered.

  Janae and Angelle looked at each other and said at the same time, “She lying.”

  I motioned to my client when I saw her walk in. “Come on back to the sink Monica.” I didn’t hear the last comment or who made it, but it sent the ladies into a laughing uproar. If I hear the word dick one more time today I am going to scream. “How you been doing Monica?”

  “Good Nicole, how about yourself?” She plopped down in the chair. I put a cape around her.

  “You can sit back.” I hosed down Monica’s hair with some luke-warm water, saturated it with shampoo, and then slowly started to massage her scalp.

  “Nicole, you just don’t know how much I had been looking forward to this all day. I couldn’t get off work fast enough,” Monica said as she closed her eyes.

  “Well at least you will be able to go home and get you some rest after you get your hair done.” I rinsed the shampoo out of Monica’s hair and then lathered her up one more time.

  “I wish. I have to go back to the hospital in a few hours. We have three nurses out on maternity leave and two on vacation.”

  “That’s right you do work at the hospital don’t you?” I rinsed the shampoo out of Monica’s hair for the second time and then applied the conditioner.

  “Yeah, and it’s starting to depress the hell out of me. I get so tired of seeing so many young black men come in and out of that hospital like it has a revolving door. Umph, that smells good Nicole. What’s that you’re putting in my hair ‘cause I’m going to have to get me some of that?”

  “I have an extra bottle I can give to you,” I told her. I would have given her all of my supplies to get some information about Milk. I was waiting for Janea to finish washing her client’s hair before I said anything else to Monica. “So how is Milk doing?” I lowered my voice. “Is he still in the hospital?”

  “Yeah he is, but he is going to be alright.”

  “Did they get the person who shot him?”

  “I couldn’t even tell you, Nicole. Asia didn’t make it, though. You knew her right?”

  “Yeah, I did Asia’s hair a few times but I didn’t really know her very well. She was Milk’s cousin right?” I asked already knowing the answer to my own question.

  “No, Asia was his wife’s cousin, well ex- wife. Come to think of it,” she opened her eyes, “you look a lot like Sabrina.”

  “I do?” I waited until Monica closed her eyes before I rolled mine. I was sick of people telling me how much I looked like Sabrina.

  “Yep, you sure do.”

  “You can sit up.” I blotted Monica’s hair with a towel to drain some of the water, and then I pumped wrap lotion into the palm of my hand. I lost my train of thought for a second thinking about Milk, but when I heard Janea talking again I snapped back to reality.

  “I’mma’ show you what you do when the hook in the dick starts to hit that g-spot. This is what you do when the dick starts to get good to you.” Janea walked to the middle of the floor so that everyone could see her. She even had my client’s attention.

  “You clamp down on that mothafucka’ with your pussy muscles,” she said while she positioned herself like she was riding a horse, “and then you squeezzzzzzzz that mothafucka’ til’ you can’t squeeze it no more. Then bounce on his dick. I guarantee you will squirt in his face!” She stood up and then walked back to her station. “Only then, will you feel the full effects of a hook dick.”

  I shook my head and kept combing through Monica‘s hair. This bitch needs a dick intervention.

  Peaches!

  I saw my aunt coming out the grocery store pulling two carts, so I got out of my truck to go help her.

  “I’ll take one, Aunt Jean.”

  “Thank you Shawn.”

  “You get everything you need?”

  “Did I? Shawn, I have enough food to last me six months. Thank you, baby. You sure take good care of me.” I started loading the groceries in the back of my truck.

  “You need to go anywhere else?”

  “Nope,” she opened the passenger side door. “Now I’m ready to go home and relax.”

  “Jean?” My aunt turned around. “Jean, is that you?”

  “Lord, Jesus,” Aunt Jean mumbled under her breath. I turned around to see who was calling her.

  “I thought that was you,” the woman said, as she walked towards us.

  “Peaches,” Aunt Jean gave her a fake smile.

  “Jean Norwood, I knew that was you!”

  “It’s been a long time, Peaches,” she said, while looking the woman up and down.

  “It sure has. Come here and give me a hug, girl.” Peaches grabbed my aunt and squeezed the shit out of her. Aunt Jean half-heartily hugged her back. When Peaches smiled, I saw that her top row of teeth was missing. She was wearing a shirt that had Christian Outreach Ministries written on it and was carrying a container with money in it.

  “Damn, Jean, it really has it been a long time since I’ve seen you.”

  “Over twenty years.”

  “Has it really been that long? Shit, time flies when you’re having fun,” she tapped my aunt on her arm. “Would you like to make a donation?” She held up the canister. Aunt Jean went inside of her purse and pulled out a dollar bill. I turned my head the other way because I wasn’t gone give her shit to go smoke up.

  “Okay, well it was good to see you Peaches. You take care.”

  “I’ll get the rest of the groceries, Aunt Jean. Go ‘head and sit down.”

  “Aunt Jean,” Peaches repeated after me. “Is this your nephew, Jean?”

  “Yes, and I have taken up too much of his day as it is, so let me go.”

  “How you doing?” I spoke to her.

  “Ain’t your daddy name…,” she started to say.

  “Peaches, we really have to go. Come on Shawn.” Aunt Jean waved her hand to me. I put the last of the groceries in the trunk and closed it.

  “But Jean… wait a minute. Is this…,”

  Peaches was talking to my aunt through the passenger side window, but it was rolled up so I could not hear what she was saying when I got inside of the truck.

  “Drive off Shawn, ‘cause this bitch is crazy.”

  I started up the truck and put it in reverse. Peaches was still standing there. “Who was that Aunt Jean?” I looked back at her i
n my rearview mirror.

  “Shawn, you don’t want to know.”

  Grand Central Station!

  I looked up when I heard my room door open. “Hello, Mr. Woodhouse. How are we feeling today?”

  “Sleepy,” I told the nurse.

  “Well, I just came in to check your vitals.”

  “I know, that’s why I’m sleepy. Y’all in here every four hours waking me up.”

  “I’m sorry if it bothers you, but we have to keep a close eye on your vitals now that your blood pressure has stabilized. I also came to give you your meds.” She took the cap off a small vile and attached it to my IV, and I instantly felt the effects of the Dilatant. “Just press the call button if you need me for anything, Mr. Woodhouse.” She smiled. I nodded my head. I looked over at the door when I heard it open again.

  “Hey, Jenna. How are you today?” the nurse spoke to the woman who had just come into my room.

  “Hey there, girly.” The woman held the door open for the nurse.

  “Hi, Mr. Woodhouse. You still haven’t sub-mitted what you would like to have for lunch today.”

  “That’s because I don’t want none of that shit. A homeless man wouldn’t eat it.”

  “I know it’s not all that great, but the doctor doesn’t want you to have any solid foods yet.”

  “Miss, I’ll pay you a hundred dollars to sneak me in a Whopper with cheese.”

  “Oh, Mr. Woodhouse you’re so funny,” she laughed. “I’ll just send up what you had for lunch yesterday.” She patted me on my arm. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.”

  “Thanks.” Once she left out of the room, I closed my eyes and tried to get comfortable. Not even a minute later I heard the door open again. “What the fuck is this, Grand Central Station,” I threw my hands up in the air.

  “Sorry to disturb you Milton, but I have a few questions I need to ask you regarding the shooting. I’m Detective Warner and I will be hand- ling the investigation,” he said as he flashed his badge.