Let That Be the Reason

by Vickie M. Stringer

  Eighteen

  Two weeks had passed since I had begun experimenting with drugs. And I decided to call it quits with the service and the boosters. It was just too much, and although they were my first loves in the life, I had to let them go. I told the girls face-to-face, and they were extremely upset with me. They were so faithful to the service that they laid big guilt trips on me. I vowed to get them all settled. I explained to them that it was over for me, and that they should want out, too. I was outgrowing this life. I gave each of the girls $1,000 as my last gift to them.

  I also helped Gabrielle get her own one-bedroom apartment because she stuck with me through thick and thin. I offered the client list to Renaye because she had a great business mind. She was so excited and immediately took the reins and started her own service out of her home. I gave the other girls money and a farewell dinner, which was very emotional. We all ended it with China’s line, “Let that be the reason we all do great things with our lives.”

  China didn’t show up to the dinner, and no one had seen her for a while, so after dinner, I drove around some of the areas I thought she might be. Knowing her, she was out getting money. I cruised by the car wash, noticing all the hotties kicking it with the local ballers, admiring the cars as they rolled off the drying line. Sammy’s Auto Clean was the spot in Columbus. If you wanted your car cleaned, you went there. If you wanted to meet some fine-ass brothers, you went there, too.

  I pulled in and started kicking it with the fellas, asking about China. The owner had a thing for China and allowed her to hang around the place as she hustled the men for $20. I told her to stop that shit, but men gave China $20 just for a conversation.

  I got my car washed and had to check one of the attendants about skimping on my shit. I wanted my shit Armor All’d down, fingerprints on the insides of the windows removed and inside doorjambs cleaned. Plus, cherry scent for the inside was a must.

  Next, I cruised over to Expressions Hair & Nail Salon on Franksway Street to see if China was getting her nails done. She wasn’t. Then I remembered hearing rumors that China had started with a pimp named Mark. He had a rep for being very hard on his girls. I heard he kept her full of coke and working straight 24/7. Something told me to try her grandmother’s house because I knew she was the only family she kept up with.

  I went to her grandmother’s house, which was off of a main street in the heart of the inner city. When I pulled up, there were several cars parked out front. I had met her grandmother once when the girls and I brought China’s daughter a birthday present, so I didn’t think she would mind that I just showed up uninvited. I tapped on the door and a woman who resembled China answered and let me in. Her grandmother walked straight up to me, crying, and wrapped her arms around me. She turned to introduce me and said, “Everyone, this was China’s friend Carmen. She tried to help her.”

  I was confused, and then stunned to realize I had arrived after China’s funeral! China’s look-alike younger sister, Gloria, led me to a back bedroom. She told me that they had found China in the alley. She had died of an overdose of crack cocaine and heroin. She had been beaten badly and the police were looking for Mark. I embraced Gloria as tears flowed down her face. She reached underneath the bed and handed me a newspaper article about China’s death.

  The article included a coroner’s report of her autopsy that said, “Woman’s cause of death was a combination of a toxic level of drugs and asphyxia. Subject was strangled, as imprints were apparent, in addition to ripped skin below the right ear. Blood vessels were broken in both eyes from the pressure of strangulation.” I could not read any more as my tears joined Gloria’s. No human being should have to die this way. China’s daughter walked over to me and asked, “Can I go home with you tonight?” All I could say was “Yes.” I got permission and sent her to pack.

  My heart hurt for China. Let that be the reason I get my ass out of these streets, I thought. Starting that very night, I never picked up another drink or indulged in another drug.

  China’s daughter had so many questions about her mom and her lifestyle. Her innocent voice queried, “Is my mom in heaven?” I stroked her hair as I drove and replied, “Yes, your mom was the best, and she is in heaven with God, looking down on you.”

  “Will I ever see her again?”

  “Of course, if you close your eyes you can see her. Plus you’ll always carry her in your heart.” I pointed to her chest to remind her that her mom was in there. She rubbed her heart and closed her eyes and said, “Carmen, I carry my mom in my heart. I want to die to be with her. Why did that man choke her?”

  I wanted her to stop talking because with every word, I thought of my son, how the tables could turn and it could be my son with the questions. How would my absence be explained?

  I pulled over and looked into her eyes and said, “Listen, you have to keep living and make your mommy proud. This is what she would want. She is watching over you. Your mom was a strong lady, and that same strength is in you. She loved you very much, and you have to always want to live.” The tears fell down her little blushed cheeks, mixing with snot from her nose and slobber from her mouth. I wiped it all with my hands, not caring about the slimy goo. I just wanted to ease her pain.

  I returned China’s daughter to her grandma’s the following night with the promise that I would visit. I gave China’s grandmother some money and asked her if she wanted to move out of the projects, but she refused to give up on her neighborhood. The money, she told me, she would put away for China’s little girl. I didn’t have the answers. I only knew that I didn’t want that to happen to me and my son. Most of all, I didn’t want him to find out about me like that.

  I told the other girls from the service and gave them all copies of China’s obituary. That night I prayed! God, thank you for your blessings and please, please bless China’s family.

  Beep… beep… beep… beep.

  Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I peered at the small screen of my pager but didn’t recognize the number. Who was paging me this early in the morning? This better be good. 8322504228228. Who was this? 8322504228911911.

  “Whose number is this?” I picked up my phone and dialed the number.

  Ring… ring.

  “Hello?” someone answered.

  “Someone call a pager?” I asked.

  “Pooh, it’s me. You gave someone else my code 228?”

  I was speechless.

  He whispered, “Hey, how you doing? I got my white flag up. I surrender. I need you.”

  Without hesitation I responded, “Chino, where are you? I’m here for you.”

  Nineteen

  I jumped out of bed so full of happiness that I felt like I was floating on air. My Chino finally got in touch with me. Thank you, God! There really is a God after all. Now I can quit this business, I thought. My mind was leaping forward to my new future: no more drug dealing, no more streets. I wanted to go back to school and get my degree. I was very intelligent, and I was ready to move on with my life.

  I planned to meet with Chino and offer him his photos and some money for him and his new family. I felt whole. I was going to see my Chino and I could do something for him that he would know was from my heart. Not because he was a drug dealer or because he did things for me or because we were together or because he gave me anything. It would be a “just because” gift. We both knew he had never given our son anything, but I wanted him to know that there was someone he could depend on with no strings attached. This was not about a future relationship, that was over for us; this was about all we had been through.

  I remember speaking to him on the phone after our separation, I was crying and accusing him of never loving me. He said, “Pooh, please stop. Let the past stay there. I’m calling now.” And sure enough, he used to sneak and call me on the phone when others thought we never spoke. We tried to talk things out, but we couldn’t because we were too busy blaming each other for all the wrongs in the relationship. Now I could finally close this chapter of my li
fe. I would apologize and give him a gift that I prayed overwhelmed him like all the many things he had given me.

  I thought, Now… hmmmm, what will I wear? Because I must look fabulous. I walked into my closet, scanned the shelves and racks of clothes and picked out a navy blue Armani suit.

  “No, this won’t work… too businesslike. How about a yellow linen short set? No, this won’t work either… too casual. Or a dress with some gator sandals? Chino always liked soft and jazzy clothes. Wait, the perfect outfit! A Polo pullover with some jeans and loafers. Yeah, I’ll meet him preppie-style.” Every summer, we always purchased a Polo jersey and dressed alike. This outfit would be perfect, and to top it off, I would wear my old engagement ring he gave me. I always told him I threw it away, but I’d wear it now just to let him know that I still had it, even if I wore it on my right hand instead of my left. I’d wear the diamond ring that I purchased for myself on my left ring finger. Yes, I was married… to myself.

  We were scheduled to meet at 7:00 p.m. at a seafood restaurant. That gave me just enough time to get my hair done, get my nails French manicured and run some errands. I was telling everyone that I was out of this life, and I would pass the scepter to Chino if he wanted. I knew Chino could handle my volume so maybe he could work with Dragos. Whatever Chino wanted, I wanted him to have it. Yes! I was on my way out of this lifestyle.

  I paged G-Money and prayed he would return my call. He had a problem with me leaving the lifestyle. I saved my money, and the fellas spent theirs, because they figured they’d always be in the game. G was upset that I quit the escort business. Even after China’s death, he still acted like he didn’t understand why I wanted out. All G wanted was money and the streets, but I wasn’t trying to hustle forever. I had a child, which meant I needed to be a responsible parent, and that involved more things than this life. Things that money couldn’t buy. But here I was riding around in vans, sitting my ass on top of keys in hidden compartments and placing my life on the line. And for what? Mo’ money. This was crazy.

  The previous week, a baller named Nostradamus had gotten killed in a drug deal gone bad. Someone killed him over just two of them thangs. Then Paul got robbed by the same guys who supposedly killed Nostradamus. Next, one of Paul’s boys, Clockin’ (they called him that ’cause he stacked dollars), got knocked in a studio hotel.

  The cleaning lady found a kilo of cocaine under his sink, and turned it in. When he got back to the hotel, he saw that his room had been cleaned, so he checked under the sink. His package was gone. He foolishly went to the front desk and asked for his package. Needless to say, they had him on lockdown. The game was getting whack!

  To make matters worse, Dragos had sent me some weak product, and I had major complaints and refund requests, and we all know ain’t no refunds in the streets. So I had to work through that mess. I became suspicious of everything and everybody. I even suspected an elderly lady at the grocery store who I thought was following me was a tail. Once I even thought a kid’s skateboard was a listening device.

  I was tired. Hustlin’ was definitely harder than working a job. It keeps ya on your toes, that’s for sure, because as soon as you snooze, you lose.

  I was relieved to be leaving. Hell, what if rivals tried to jack me and my no-pistol-carrying ass? I wanted out, and G would have to understand. People will play all types of guilt trips on you as if this was a real business, with benefits and a retirement plan, and I was responsible if they ate. In some ways it really was like that. Depends on your perspective.

  When Chino went to jail, all the fellas in his crew fell off. Rock got evicted from his apartment. Ant became a house husband to some chick who was paying the rent while raising two kids, and their bills were soon overdue. They all fell like dominoes.

  It was time for me to leave. I had my chance, now it was time for someone else to get theirs.

  I pulled a T-Love move and called Wade over to the house for a booty call to relieve some stress. I showered, rubbed Bath & Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar lotion on my body and waited. Wade never rang the doorbell; he always did this unique whistle when he got out of his lowrider that signaled his arrival. I opened the patio door wearing my birthday suit, he pulled a can of whipped cream from behind his back, smacked my ass and swooped me up into his arms.

  Needless to say, I arrived to meet Chino a lil’ late, and I could tell by the look on his face that he was pissed. After all, he never waited for anyone. People waited for him. But I smiled and we approached each other slowly. I knew he was wondering if I would hurt him again. I just walked toward him with open arms, and we embraced each other. It was a wonderful feeling.

  “Pooh, step back, let me look at you.” I did as he asked and turned around to give him a look from every angle. “You look good.”

  “So do you,” I told him as I admired him from head to toe. “Shall we eat?”

  “Yeah, I’m starvin’ like—”

  “Marvin, right?” I responded, completing his sentence.

  “You know it!” His voice rang with a baritone sound.

  “Two for dinner?” asked the maître d’.

  “Yes.”

  “Smoking preference?”

  Chino took the lead. “None.”

  We were led to our table and took our seats. “Your waitress will be with you in one moment,” the maître d’ told us as he placed menus in front of us. “Enjoy your meal,” he said into the air as he left.

  We placed our orders without saying a word to each other. Some young ballers were eating and passed our table. One recognized me and gave me his pager number and said, “Baby girl, give me a call. I’m trying to work out with you, yo.” I could tell the attention made Chino uncomfortable.

  “So, Pooh, you’re a celebrity?” asked Chino while glancing at the tattered paper with the scribbled number written in blue.

  “Nah, I’m just an entrepreneur—always for me, never for yours.”

  “Ha-ha, you got game in you.”

  I knew that would make him laugh.

  Our food arrived and we both started slamming, just like old times when we went out for dinner. He even took a couple pieces of food off my plate. “Chino”—I smacked his hand playfully—“you always eating my food.”

  “And you know it.”

  We’re breaking the ice. We both were chewing with our mouths stuffed, and at the same time, we looked at each other and said simultaneously, “I’m sorry.” Then he winked.

  “Chino, forgive your Pooh,” I pleaded.

  “Done. Pooh, forgive your Chino.”

  “Done. I never thought this day would come, did you?” I asked.

  “I knew it would. It was just a matter of time. So what is this I hear about you in these streets? You know I never wanted that for you.” He met my eyes dead center and I held his stare like a challenge. He broke the stare and looked away first, so I spoke the facts.

  “Well, I had to do what I had to do.”

  “How is the baby?” he asked.

  “He’s fine. How have you been?” I attempted to make eye contact as I tried to find out what was going on with him.

  “Taking a real live beating,” Chino confessed.

  “Well, Chino, I’m here to help and give you what you need.”

  “Right, right.”

  “Chino, you can talk to me. You know this, man!” I said in a high octave, mimicking Chris Tucker’s character Smokey in Friday. We both laughed. I was trying to keep the mood light because I knew his pride was wounded. He kept fidgeting.

  “Pooh, I need some of them thangs.”

  Damn, is this what this meeting is all about? Kilos? “Chino, you don’t need them, ’cause I have money saved up, and it’s yours. How much you need?”

  “I don’t need you to give me anything. I can work for mine, and I don’t want no handouts. I want to work and make my own money. I don’t want you to be able to say that you gave me anything.”

  “Chino, I’m not like that, and you know it. Please don’t do t
his. What’s mine is yours. I can take care of you and your family just like you took care of me and mine.”

  He just stared off into space and said, “Pooh, that means more to me than you will ever know, but the man I am won’t allow me to accept anything from you. I do want a good ticket since you the man now.” When he said that, he still didn’t look me in the eyes.

  “I’m not a man, but I feel like one sometimes,” I said sadly.

  “Pooh, I just need some work. Some of them thangs. I gotta get down for my crown!”

  I don’t want to do this. Why won’t he take the money? He will sell the drugs for the money, but won’t take mine with no strings attached and no work involved. Damn, Chino… why?

  “What ticket do you need?” I couldn’t believe my ears as I responded purely out of habit.

  “I need to get thirty kilos at a ticket of twenty each.”

  That’s a low price for delivered and fronted kilos. Don’t do it. Stay in control. You know how you are with him.

  “No problem, Chino. I can have them for you in the morning. Is there anything else you need?”

  Instantly, Chino’s jaw tightened and he peered at me. “No!” he said through gritted teeth.

  He mistook my willingness to help as arrogance and got insulted. This was not what I wanted.

  “Chino, you know I got love for you, and I just wanna help.” With that, I touched his hand.

  “Pooh, I know. It’s just fucked up that I gotta come to you.” He jerked his hand away from mine.

  “I understand. Maybe next time I’ll come to you, but Chino, just this one time, because I’m about to retire.”

  “All I need is this one time.”

  “I have transportation, and you can use one of them.” Those vans are not yours—you’re frontin’. “This way you can be safe.”