A Dollar and A Dream

by Carl Weber, La Jill Hunt, Angel Hunter; Dwayne S. Joseph

  “A’ight, let’s go,” he announced to his partners in crime. The next thing I knew everything went black.

  13

  Katrice

  “Thank God” was all that I could say after Paul left the apartment. I knew he was a good guy, which was why I’d tried to hook him up with Kerri. I just had no idea how good.

  I went into the bedroom and got my lockbox out of the top of the closet. It held all the paperwork from the bank and receipts from when I had gotten various repair work done. I kept all the legal paperwork in a safe deposit box across town. I didn’t know if Paul needed to see it, but I decided to go and get it anyway. When I walked out of the building he was talking to Rodney. I was going to tell him I’d catch up with him when I got back, but he seemed pretty preoccupied.

  I was on cloud nine the entire ride to the bank and back, thinking of how God always shows up right on time. He even kept Jordan out of my way. Which was a surprise because I expected him to be waiting for me when I got home. I climbed the steps and knocked on Paul’s door, but there was no answer. I looked at my watch and made sure two hours had passed.

  “His business with the lottery office must’ve taken him longer than he thought,” I said to no one. I went back downstairs and tried to think of some way to kill time while I waited. I looked around my cluttered bedroom. With Jordan gone it was gonna be a lot easier to keep this place clean.

  I pulled the sheets and comforter off and threw them in the laundry basket. I may as well wash these. I grabbed a handful of quarters and tossed the detergent on top of the linens, pulling the rickety basket down the basement steps. I opened the washing machine top and put the quarters in the dispenser. I heard something moving in the storage closet at the back of the room and jumped.

  “Who’s there?” I called out and waited for an answer. My heart was pounding and I could feel beads of perspiration forming on my temples. I looked around for something to use as a weapon, but there wasn’t even a stick to be found.

  “Is someone in there? ’Cause I’ve got a gun and I ain’t afraid to use it!” I yelled and took a step toward the stairs.

  “Mmmmmm! Mmmmm!” someone moaned.

  “If this is a joke, it ain’t funny! Now get out of there before I call the fucking police!” I said as I got closer. I figured it was probably Freddie sleeping off his high.

  “Freddie? Is that you?” I kicked the door with my foot and heard something scraping against the floor. I didn’t know what the hell to think then.

  “Ahhhhhhh!” I screamed and pulled the door open.

  I meant my scream to scare whoever was in the closet, but I was the one who got spooked. When the door swung open fully, there was Paul, gagged with some tape and tied to a chair. Sweat was dripping down his face and he had a knot on his head the size of a grape. His shirt was wringing wet and his eyes looked crazy.

  “What the hell happened to you?” I asked. He tried to talk but it came out like a muffled moan. I carefully tried to pry the tape off, but he still wound up screaming like a girl when I yanked on it.

  “Owwwww. Come on, Katrice, we gotta get out of here before they get back! They’re crazy! And they’re gonna come back to kill me!” He panted and struggled to get untied.

  “Who’s crazy? What are you talking about?” I attempted to help him get free, but he was tied too tight.

  “Your husband Jordan—”

  I cut him off. “Jordan? What’s he got to do with this?”

  “Him, Rodney, and Kerri! They’re trying to kill me. You gotta help me, Katrice. They knocked me out and robbed me!”

  “You lying!” I fumbled with the rope.

  “Do I look like I’m fuckin’ lyin’? Rodney pulled a gun on me and they jacked me for the ticket! They gone down to cash it in right now and then they gonna come back and kill me. Trust me.” He scooted the chair in frustration. “We gotta go call the cops and get out of here before they get back. Come on!”

  “Jordan?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure! He’s in cahoots with Rodney and Kerri. They’re all in it together. Come on. We gotta hurry before they get back!”

  I finally got the knot loose enough so Paul could get free. He jumped out of the chair and grabbed my arm as we ran out of the building.

  “I can’t believe they took the ticket.”

  “Believe it. But boy, are they in for a surprise.” He shook his head.

  14

  Kerri

  “Yo, we’re almost at the lottery office, y’all,” Jordan announced with excitement.

  I can’t begin to tell you how anxious I was to get that money. I was gonna take me a long vacation, then buy a penthouse apartment right here in the city. No more relying on men to pay my bills for me. I was gonna live footloose and fancy-free and do me for once.

  “Hey, Jordan, what you gonna do with your money?” I asked.

  “I’m gonna buy this racehorse I’ve been looking at. I’m gonna get him the best trainers money can buy so I can win the Belmont and sit in the winners’ circle.” He smiled.

  “Don’t racehorses cost a lot of money?” Rodney asked.

  “This one only cost three million.”

  “Man, once you pay for the horse, the trainers, and stables, you ain’t gonna have shit left.”

  “The purse for winning the Belmont is a lot of money. I’ll be okay.”

  “What if you don’t win?”

  “Just the thought of having my own horse in the Belmont and being able to bet on him will be worth every dime. Besides, who said I wasn’t gonna win?”

  “With your bad luck, you couldn’t win if he was the only horse.” Rodney laughed. Jordan looked hurt, so I changed the subject. No need for any problems before we got our money.

  “Well, what about Katrice? Aren’t you gonna buy her anything?”

  “I’m gonna pay off the building for her. That’s the only thing she seems to care about.”

  “Man, you crazy. Katrice is a good woman. What you need to do is give her half of what you get,” I advised.

  “She’s right, Jordan. The way you gamble, you just gonna fuck that money up.”

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Jordan replied. Which meant, “Not a chance.”

  “What about you, Rodney? What you gonna do?” I leaned over the front seat.

  “First I’m gonna go pay Big Red back. Then I’m gonna buy my mom a brand-new house. Nothing used in it. She never had any new shit ’cause she was always buying for us.”

  “Ah, that’s sweet,” I told him, “but what about you? Are you gonna buy anything for yourself?”

  “I’m thinking about going down to the Bahamas or Jamaica and shit. Buy me a fat crib on the water and open up an import-export business.”

  “Damn, that sounds dope. Maybe I’ll invest.” I asked, “What you gonna export?”

  “What else? Weed.” We all laughed with Rodney, but it wasn’t really funny.

  “Damn, Rodney,” I asked, “have you ever thought about going legit?”

  “No,” he told me flatly, and I sat back in my seat.

  “We’re here,” Jordan announced, pulling into an open parking space. We all piled out of the car and tried to stay calm as we walked into the building, following the sign to the lottery office.

  “How you doing? We’d like to turn in the winning ticket to Thursday’s lottery.” Rodney smiled nervously at the woman at the counter.

  “This past Thursday?” she asked.

  “Yeah, the fifty-million-dollar jackpot.” I could barely stand still, I was so excited. I shuffled back and forth, wishing I could dance, I was so happy about this money. I was about to become rich.

  “Wait here one minute. Let me get my supervisor.” She walked away, then returned with a well-dressed brother in his early forties.

  “You said you have the winning ticket for last Thursday’s lottery?” he asked in an official tone.

  “Yeah,” Rodney replied, shoving the ticket across the counter at the m
an.

  The man looked at the ticket strangely, then put it into a machine before calling over another man. I looked up at the ceiling. I guess I expected balloons and confetti to drop out of it.

  The brother whispered in the white man’s ear, then the white guy inspected the ticket and did all the talking from there. “Sir, this isn’t the winning ticket.” His voice was a mixture of formality and pity. Like he thought we were a bunch of fools or something.

  “Man, that’s bull!” Jordan yelled. “It’s got the right numbers, don’t it?”

  “Yes, sir. It does, but—”

  “Then I’m not leaving here without my money,” Rodney snapped, cutting him off before he could finish. He was patting his jacket like he was about to pull out his gun or something. I grabbed his arm like I was his girl.

  “Calm down, Rodney. You, too, Jordan. Let’s hear the man out.” I was afraid that Paul had escaped and called the cops or something. Maybe this was some kind of setup before they locked us all up. But if it wasn’t, it was best if we didn’t cause a scene up in here. I asked in my most polite voice, “Now why are you saying this isn’t the winning ticket if our numbers are correct?”

  “Like I was about to tell your friend, miss, your numbers were right for Thursday’s lottery, but your ticket was purchased on the Friday after the numbers had already been announced.”

  “What?” Now I was losing my cool, too. “That can’t be right,” I snarled.

  “Here. Look for yourself. The date is for Friday the seventeenth. Obviously whichever one of you purchased this ticket was playing some kind of game. Perhaps you all want to discuss this amongst yourselves, away from the window?” He crossed his arms over his chest and let us know we were dismissed.

  I took the ticket from him and literally screamed. “Oh my God, Rodney, he’s right!”

  Rodney snatched the ticket out of my trembling hand. He took one look at it and started to walk out of the lottery office. “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker.”

  Jordan and I were right behind him. I don’t know what Jordan was thinking, but I was about ready to offer to help Rodney pull the trigger when we saw Paul again. That motherfucker had planned this whole thing. He bought that ticket after the winner was announced, for one reason only. And me? I’d stupidly played right into it. Gave up the ass without even thinking twice. Now Paul was gonna have to pay, ’cause no matter how good his shit was in bed, no one makes a fool out of me.

  15

  Paul

  “Let me ask you something, Paul,” Katrice said to me as we sat in her apartment, peeking through the blinds. We were waiting for Rodney, Jordan, and Kerri to return. I’d told her everything about the ticket being a fake, so we both knew they’d probably come back here looking for me, upset. But we were prepared for them.

  “What is it?”

  “If you never had the winning lottery ticket, why’d you tell me you could help me save the building?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry about that. It’s not fifty million, but I did recently come into some money.”

  She smiled at me and turned back to the window just as Jordan’s car pulled up in front of the building. All three of them jumped out of the car, and I can tell you there was no doubt they had blood in their eyes.

  “Dear God, Paul, you were right! Rodney’s got a gun.” Katrice’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “I told you.”

  I moved from the front window to the front door peephole when they walked up the steps, so I could watch as they walked right into our trap. The cops had shown up after we called them, and were waiting in the entryway, guns drawn. Rodney was the first one to come through the door, and his eyes got huge when he saw the cops. It didn’t take long before his gun was on the floor and his hands were behind his back. Kerri broke out into tears. Jordan just raised his hands.

  Once all three of them were handcuffed, the police knocked on Katrice’s door and we stepped out.

  “You ain’t never had the winning ticket, did you?” Rodney growled at me as I stepped into the hallway.

  “Nope. Can’t say that I did.” I was smirking as I answered him.

  “You did all this just to get some ass?” Kerri sniffled.

  “Actually, Kerri, I did this all because I hoped that if you got to know me, you’d forget about the money and see what kind of a person I am. Money’s not a big deal to me. I found fifteen thousand dollars in the laundry room last week.”

  “Fifteen thousand dollars? That’s my money!” Rodney snapped. He looked like he was struggling to get loose from the cop, who was still gripping his arm.

  “I kinda figured that out after you had Freddie in the garbage looking for a brown envelope.” As soon as I’d found the money, I knew it was his. And I also knew where it had come from, so there was no way I was returning it to Rodney. Since I volunteered at a rehab clinic, I knew firsthand what drug dealers like Rodney were doing to damage our community. I’d planned on turning the envelope over to the police, but then Katrice came to me that day and told me she might lose the building. So I kept it just in case. Katrice was a good black woman. If I could use Rodney’s drug money to do something good for a strong member of our community, then that’s what I was gonna do.

  “You motherfucker!” Rodney screamed.

  The cops led Rodney, Jordan, and Kerri out of the building, and Katrice and I followed. She didn’t even seem too upset when they put her husband in the back of the police car. I know I was happy to see them drive away.

  As the police car disappeared around the corner, a long, black limousine pulled up in front of the building. The driver stepped out and ran to the back to open it. A well-dressed man, who appeared to be in his early fifties, stepped out.

  “Paul! Paul!” the man shouted as he approached.

  “You know him?” Katrice asked. Her eyes lit up a little. Poor Katrice. She knew I was gonna help her out with her debt, but she still had to worry about getting new tenants in a hurry. So I guess any connection to money was looking good to her right then. I felt bad I couldn’t say I knew the guy in the limo.

  “I never seen that man in my life,” I told her. But the man’s voice did sound familiar.

  “Paul! Paul! It’s me, Freddie!”

  “Freddie?” I stared at him. “Oh my God, Katrice. It’s Freddie!” I laughed.

  “Freddie, what you doing all dressed up and clean-shaven?”

  “We hit, Paul!” he yelled with a hearty laugh. “We hit the fifty-million-dollar lottery. I told you I had the numbers.”

  “Damn! Congratulations, Freddie,” was all I could manage to say. After the day I’d had, I was pretty much speechless.

  “No, congratulations to you.” He handed me an envelope and I opened it.

  “Freddie,” I said slowly, “this is a check for twenty-five million dollars.” I heard Katrice gasp next to me. Maybe I could help her after all.

  “I told you if you loaned me that two dollars and I hit, I was gonna split it with you.”

  Ghetto Fabulous

  Angel Hunter

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to acknowledge GOD, my strength and my provider in all that I do.

  “Ghetto Fabulous” is dedicated to the single moms doing their thing and holding down, sacrificing, advising, crying, denying, loving, wondering, questioning and doubting. You make me proud to be a woman and a mother and I applaud you.

  The unconditional love and support of my son, Anthony, and the father of my son, Tony Irby, gives me the strength and courage to continue following my dreams and I thank you.

  Thanks again to my good friend and mentor, Carl Weber. You go, boy!

  Angel Hunter

  Selfofessence@aol.com

  1

  The Present

  My eyes were closed and I had a big-ass smile on my face. I’d just had the orgasm of my life.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” my husband asked after we finished making love. Even though the act was complete, I could
still smell him on my body and feel him inside me. No, not because his dick was just that big, but because of how intense the lovemaking was.

  I didn’t want this morning to end, but I knew it was just getting started, and would get better. Today was the beginning of a new lifestyle, a lifestyle of the rich and famous, ghetto style.

  “Yes, I do, and I love you, as well.” It felt so good to say those words freely, without fear or doubt behind them. It had taken me a while to get to this point and now that I had, I felt complete.

  “I’m the luckiest man on earth.”

  “That you are,” I joked.

  “You’ve got a big day ahead, are you excited?”

  “You know I am,” I told him. Actually, “excited” was an understatement.

  I was dropping my children off at private school, going to the spa for a day of beauty with my sister, and having the grand opening for my hair salon, Champagne and Shampoo. Not bad for a girl from the ’hood, an ex–welfare recipient.

  Champagne and Shampoo was my dream come true, a hair salon that served cocktails in the back. You may be wondering where I came up with this idea. Well, ladies, we know how long you can be in the hairdresser’s, waiting impatiently to get your hair done. We all hate it, admit it.

  The hair salon that I used to go to, allowed the clients to bring in bottles of liquor, as long as you kept it in your purse, to sip on and pass the time.

  So instead of sneaking, I figured why not have a place where you can do both out in the open. The salon in the front and the bar in the back. Of course, I went through hell to get a license, but with the help of my hairstylist turned partner, Aisha, whose uncle was the mayor of the town, I got it.

  Climbing out of bed, I kissed my man on the lips and said, “I’m going to jump in the shower.”