Get Some

by Pam Ward

  Lil Steve dipped the screwdriver in again.

  He noticed the smooth movements of Vernita’s hands. The way they worked and pulled the hair in strong, artful strokes.

  He inhaled the powder real slow.

  Vernita spun the chair around so she could do the woman’s left side. Lil Steve lifted the wide-tip screwdriver back to his nose. He inhaled eight more times and saved some in the seat before folding the duct tape back over the small hole he’d made. He popped his pocketknife with his teeth and sawed along the cushion of the passenger seat. Pulling the vinyl seat back and removing some of the foam, he firmly pushed the plastic bag inside and folded the vinyl back down.

  Lil Steve didn’t realize how keyed up he was. He pulled the handle up and let the seat fall. He lay back so he could relax. Though his head barely rose above the window to see, he watched Vernita work in the large salon window. His heart began beating with speed.

  He took a cigarette and pulled some of the tobacco from the top and put the cocaine that he’d saved in the cigarette tip. He noticed his hand started trembling a bit. His head felt like he’d sucked on a helium balloon.

  He had the music up and was puffing the end of a Salem Light when the short woman finally emerged from the shop. She came right to the car parked in front of him, a beautiful burgundy Jag. Vernita sure did hair good. Had that plain woman looking Hollywood in no time. Waxy locks framed her soft, round face. Gold dolphin earrings screamed against her reddish-brown skin. The woman had a real pep in her step when she walked out of Vernita’s shop door.

  As soon as the woman pulled away, Lil Steve grabbed the pastrami sandwiches. He put a Raiders cap on and some wraparound sunglasses. He left his suit jacket on the seat.

  “Hey, baby,” he said, coming in and closing the door. “I got you something to eat.”

  Vernita was sweeping. She had her back to the door. She hadn’t seen or heard Lil Steve come in and almost jumped when she saw his cocky smile in her door. Oh shit! What was he doing here? She planned to meet Trudy here at the shop. She didn’t want them rough fools looking sideways at her. She spied the blond wig she’d worn laying in a chair and gently dropped a silk scarf on top.

  “What do you want, boy? Didn’t I take care of your hair? I know you ain’t ready to be tightened again.” Vernita tried to be glib. Be cool, she told herself. Don’t act nervous or he’ll suspect something.

  Lil Steve pulled down the shades and clicked off the huge light that illuminated the shop. Only the lamp with the sixty-watt burned. Vernita picked up the broom and started sweeping again.

  “Is that how you greet a man who came all the way up here to bring you some food?” Lil Steve yanked the shades on the other side of the room. “Besides,” he said slowly, “I been missin’ you, baby. Come here and give Lil Steve a kiss.” He put a lot of sugar in that last line.

  “Boy, please.” Vernita eyed Lil Steve. He seemed more animated than his usually cool icetray self. Vernita felt something was wrong.

  Lil Steve walked across the room and pulled the other shades down. The shop immediately grew dim.

  “Why you got all these windows open in here all the time, girl? Ain’tchu supposed to be closed?”

  “I guess I am now,” Vernita mumbled to herself. “How come you’re so worried about how I run my business?” Vernita tried to keep the conversation light.

  “I’m trying to help you, girl.” Lil Steve smiled. “You never know when someone might come in and jack you.” Lil Steve looked dead into her eyes.

  Vernita was sweeping more feverishly now. When she accidentally knocked the silk scarf to the ground, the blond wig drifted down to the floor. Vernita’s heart skipped. She stood still as the moon. Lil Steve moved close to her knee. He picked up the wig. He looked at Vernita a real long time, fingering the platinum hair in his hand.

  “Why don’t you put this on for me, baby?” Lil Steve held it out for her to take.

  “Listen, I don’t play blondie for nobody, okay? You want a blonde, go to Huntington Beach.” Vernita started quickly sweeping again. She put the last bits of hair in the trash.

  “What’s wrong with you, huh? Why you acting so mean? You weren’t like this this morning.”

  Lil Steve peeked out from the shade and then closed it again. He narrowed his eyes on Vernita.

  “I’m not acting like shit.” Vernita tried to sound casual. “You the one coming in here trippin’.”

  Lil Steve loved the rush the cocaine brought on. Though his nerves felt like millions of ants on his skin, inside his skull sizzled and glowed. “Come on! Put it on!” He shoved the wig toward her, but Vernita brushed his stiff hand away.

  Lil Steve rushed up on her. The wig dangled from his fist. His face was all twisted with hate. He tried to put the wig over Vernita’s cropped head.

  “Stop it!” she said. “I don’t want to wear it!” Vernita tried to pull free, but Lil Steve held her arm.

  “Why not?” he screamed. “Come on. Put it on!” His voice was loud but he didn’t know why. He was taking fast, rapid-fire breaths. The coke crept up on him. It was tickling his brain. He held Vernita down hard but didn’t know why. He didn’t realize how keyed-up he was when he pointed his gun toward her head.

  “Put the fucking wig on.” Lil Steve was surprised at his own actions. Why in the world was he was talking like this? He knew he should chill but he couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t even know he’d cocked back the gun.

  Vernita looked stunned as the gun shook in his hand. She pulled the blond wig on top of her head. In her nervous haste she put the wig on backward. Long blond strands hung over her face.

  “Now see,” he said. “Wasn’t that easy? All a brother wants is a little variety now and then. Men are visual, baby. We like seeing new shit. We want something fresh from our women.” Lil Steve grinned as the gun trembled in his right hand. He eased into a beauty salon chair.

  Vernita stayed quiet, clocking his movements. She inched her left hand way behind her back, reaching for the large can of hairspray.

  “Girl, I been driving around all day trying to figure out what’s wrong, what’s been missing in my life.” Lil Steve stared into Vernita’s light, concerned eyes.

  “I’ve been thinking about you and me all damn day long. As soon as you left me this morning I knew.” What the fuck was he saying? He never thought of her once. But his pimp side was recklessly now in full bloom. As he lied through his teeth, his lungs strained for air. The coke had messed him up bad. He recklessly dangled the gun in his hand. He pulled Vernita’s body inside the salon chair, holding her flat against his quivering chest.

  Vernita let one arm hang from the chair. She was holding the hairspray in the palm of her hand.

  “There now, see? You made me come all the way over here and say it. All this time you done got a nigga sprung.” He pulled on her neck, bringing her mouth close to his. He pulled the chair’s lever until they were both lying prone. Her small body lay completely over his. Vernita watched his gun. She felt his frantic, quaking lungs. They vibrated like a helicopter hovering close to a house.

  Vernita was trapped. Lil Steve held her tight. But she still had one hand dangling from the chair. She slowly moved her finger over the spray can’s small nozzle.

  Lil Steve kissed her mouth. The wig’s hair fell in his eyes. He snatched off the wig, throwing it over his shoulder. He held Vernita’s neck. “I want you,” he said, holding the gun on her cheek. She could feel the cold steel resting right against her jaw. Vernita wouldn’t kiss him. She moved her mouth from his lips but she smiled and ran her fingertip over his teeth. They were as smooth as a row of strung pearls. Lil Steve seized her body, gently nibbling her pointer finger. He licked her two fingers as she played with his tongue. Her fingers inched toward the deep grooves of his back molars. With his eyes rolling up and his mouth opened wide, Vernita sprayed the can deep in his throat. A gunshot blast blew the huge mirror into shards. A large fragment busted the overhead light, and the whole room wen
t totally black.

  16

  Flo

  Flo’s headlights pierced through the dark anxious night. She raced down the street like a three-legged dog, hell-bent on biting a truck. No, Flo could not wait to catch Charles now. This was it. It was on. She was fit to be tied. She was definitely going to get him tonight.

  As Jimmy was racing Trudy over to Dee’s, Flo swerved her Camaro there too.

  Flo flew through the greens, floored it on yellows and when she had to stop once at the blaring red flame, she took off before it changed back. At last, there it was, Dee’s Parlor’s rusty orange neon, laughing at her from the gloom. Flo slowed and pulled into Dee’s gravel lot. There was a green awning over the large wooden door. The club did its best to look upscale outside but this hit-and-run parking lot said it all. Potholes full of old, stagnant water. Smashed cans of beer and miniature bottles of liquor. Bloated cigarette butts floating in dank, murky puddles like hundreds of tiny drowned bodies.

  Flo eased in and rolled to the back of the lot. She didn’t want to be seen by the huge wad of people choking the front door.

  She rammed the brake down, put the car in Park and was dabbing her lipstick when she heard the grinding sound of wheels on rock. That was one good thing about the lot next to Dee’s. You could always hear when someone pulled in. Those pebbles barked loud under your tires.

  Flo slithered down a few inches and watched an older couple go inside. She wanted to get out of the freak clothes she’d worn for Tony and put on the jumpsuit she had in the trunk.

  Flo got out of the car and inched her leather pants off. She opened the trunk, taking a black jumpsuit from a plastic cleaner’s bag, and stepped one leg inside. Just as she was about to pull her leg through the hole, she heard the loud crunching sound of gravel. Flo ducked down behind her fender to avoid the headlights. A giant black Suburban pulled in and parked two spaces from hers. The headlights illuminated the parking lot so much that Flo had to press herself flat against the fender and door. A big man waited a long time before he got out. He looked like he was arguing with the person inside. Suddenly, the man looked over her way. But Flo was no fool. She stood still, didn’t move. She held her breath until the man looked away.

  Flo hurried her other foot into the other pants leg and zipped the suit up to her neck. She could hear angry shouting coming from inside the car. She slowly lifted her head and peeked over her hood to take a look. But before she could see, she heard a door open and slam, so she ducked her head down again. There was a crumbling-gravel sound of large heavy feet, and Flo peeked up over the hood to see.

  The big man was yelling loud. He was furiously upset. His arms were hawked up and his huge chest was swollen. He ran over, yanked open the passenger side and screamed.

  “Get out!” he yelled to the person inside.

  A silhouette slithered out from the seat.

  When the streetlight hit the woman, Flo could see her pained face. “Well, I’ll be,” Flo said, recognizing her now. It was Trudy. “I guess having my man ain’t enough for her trifling ass. Them chickens finally came home to roost.”

  But when Flo moved to adjust her foot, which had fallen asleep, she accidentally dropped her car keys.

  “What was that?” Jimmy said. “Didn’t you hear something?” he said to Trudy.

  Pulling out his gun, Jimmy started over toward Flo’s car.

  Flo didn’t know what to do. She was shaking in fear. The man was almost at her car! Flo slithered around her fender, ducking lower than before.

  Jimmy stood next to Flo’s passenger side. She could hear him breathing. She watched him peer inside. He waited a long time before he finally put his gun back and turned around. While Jimmy was gone, Trudy inched toward the club’s door, but Jimmy grabbed her arm like a hostage.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

  Trudy hung her head and froze.

  Her dress slipped from her shoulder and Flo saw her full breast. It loomed large under the orange neon moon.

  Jimmy grabbed her, yanking her hard through the densely packed crowd. Trudy tried to cover her body. Her dress flopped off one side. The zipper was all the way down in the back.

  “Whatchu say, Percy,” Jimmy said, giving a pound without smiling.

  “You got the winning hand,” Percy said, gazing at Trudy’s backside.

  Jimmy slipped him a fifty. “Keep an eye on her, man. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “I don’t mind putting in work for you, homes.” Percy sucked his tongue until it smacked.

  Flo quickly got back inside her car. She needed to catch her breath. She needed to think. Flo decided to move her car forward and park where she could watch Dee’s busy front door.

  17

  Trudy and Jimmy

  “Stick him!”

  “Throw that right again, man!”

  “Don’t show that sucka you weak.”

  The club was filled up. People were packed to the rafters. The fight blared on three television sets: a big screen, a nineteen-inch over the bar and a thirteen-inch with no color left that sat by the cook in the kitchen. Even people who normally didn’t go to Dee’s Parlor were sitting there slinging back beer after beer, laughing and munching on chips.

  The ring girl grinned big. She was all lips and thighs. No one could see the large wart on her hand.

  Ed “Meatloaf” Jones and Billy “The Hitman” Liston stood glistening on the taut canvas floor. Glaring, they looked anxious to finish the assault. The referee stood in between.

  Ray Ray’s eyes were glued to Dee’s Parlor’s front door. He hadn’t seen Trudy yet or Lil Steve either. He got up and skimmed the packed parking lot, then he walked all the way back to the kitchen.

  At that moment, Charles saw Jimmy pull Trudy in. Aw shit, he thought! Trudy got popped. What could he do? He better sit and stay quiet. But when Jimmy ran upstairs, leaving Trudy alone, Charles pushed his way to her table.

  “Is this seat taken?” Charles looked at Percy.

  “Yeah,” Percy said, mad-dogging him hard. Trudy flipped her braids and rolled her eyes up at Percy.

  Charles stood by the table but didn’t sit down.

  “You all right?” Charles asked, talking low.

  Trudy gave a quick shake “no.” Charles stared in her eyes; they were red like she had been crying.

  Jimmy was coming back downstairs again. He was rapidly talking to two well-dressed men. One of them started to shout. When Jimmy saw Charles standing next to Trudy, he stormed over to the table, knocking over a glass.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Jimmy angrily screamed.

  Charles looked down. He wished Ray Ray were there.

  “I asked you a question. You mute, muthafucka?” Jimmy stepped up to his face.

  Charles stuck out his hand. “Charles,” he said fast. Charles didn’t have a clue who Jimmy was, but he looked like a man you don’t mess with.

  Jimmy stared at Charles’s hand but just left it hanging.

  Charles put his hand in his pocket.

  Jimmy abruptly snatched Trudy up from her seat.

  Charles wanted to say something but he scanned Jimmy’s wide body. It had already bumped the table and knocked down two chairs. The bar was loud, and the brutal fight had turned the crowd rowdy. Nobody noticed how rough Jimmy handled Trudy’s frame.

  Meekly, Charles quietly sat down and smiled at Jimmy. He wasn’t no fool; he was the one holding the money. He drank from a flask in his jacket. Though he felt bad for Trudy, he didn’t want any trouble for himself. He stared at the TV like everyone else.

  It was already round three. Liston stuck Jones against the ropes. Liston’s bloated glove cut Jones across his jutting-out maw. Jones’ skull turned a horrible Merlot.

  Charles silently watched Jimmy twist Trudy’s arm behind her back. He sipped from his flask as Jimmy slammed her into the men’s bathroom. Charles bit his lip. He could taste the peach brandy. He looked up at Percy. Percy smiled down at Charles, daring him t
o move. Charles looked back at the set.

  Jones broke from the ropes and snatched the battlefield back. In a blizzard of hits, he nailed shot after shot. Liston did a strange dance, like his legs didn’t know each other. He swayed in a dull haze and almost went down. The crowd jumped from their seats and flew into a frenzy.

  “Stomp his ass, man!”

  “Bash Hitman’s teeth!”

  “We want to see that punk bleed!”

  Jimmy grabbed a whole handful of Trudy’s thin braids. An elderly man quickly zipped up and left when Jimmy slammed her against the cold tile.

  “Now, I’m going to ask you, and I’m only going to ask once.” Jimmy breathed hot, angry air in her mug. “Where the fuck were you today?” His hand was balled-up, his neck muscles bulged and her braids were wrapped tight around his fist.

  Trudy panicked. Her air passages felt closed. She took quick, panting breaths. Her eyes darted back and forth but no one else was in the room. She wished someone would come in and help.

  Suddenly the whole place filled with loud, whooping screams. Liston left-hooked Jones in the rib cage and chin. Liston kept drilling Jones with heart attack jabs, hammering him with swift combinations to the head and the body. When a right jab caught Jones smack-dab in the eye, the weak tissue ripped and people went crazy. The cut man had a hell of a time stopping the ooze.

  Jimmy’s veins bulged like snakes slithered under his skin. His red face was tense with hot venom.

  Trudy held her mouth shut. She decided to stay quiet. She was afraid if she said something, uttered one small wrong word he’d slam her face into the glass.

  “Talk to me, girl! I asked you a question.” Jimmy tightened his grip around Trudy’s long braids. “Where the fuck were you? I drove by your place twice. Tony ain’t seen you all day.”

  Trudy struggled not to cry. She had to think of some lie that would stop Jimmy’s rage, but her whole brain was numb and her skull really ached from him yanking her hair. Her scalp felt like it was inflamed.