Читать книгу A Dollar And Dream - Carl Weber - Страница 16

I left Kerri’s apartment with a nice buzz and headed down the stairs after the get-together she had. I still couldn’t believe that punk Paul hit the lottery! But I’d seen the ticket with my own eyes, so there wasn’t no denying that. I guess that’s just the way shit is. All I needed was fifteen thousand to make me happy and that motherfucker upstairs was sitting on top of fifty million. I was gonna have to talk to him tomorrow and see if he could hit me off with a loan, otherwise I was gonna have to get out of town.

I walked into my apartment and flipped on the light. I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw big-ass Bubba sitting in my recliner.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you doing here? I thought I had ’til Monday night to pay y’all. How’d you get into my apartment, anyway?”

Bubba got up out of the recliner and walked over to me. “You do have till Monday,” Bubba growled. “But Big Red wanted me to make sure you understand how serious we are about our money. We wouldn’t want you to leave town or anything like that.”

“I wouldn’t leave town,” I told him nervously.

“Oh yeah, so why the hell are your bags packed in your bedroom?”

“Ah, ah…”

He grabbed me by the neck and lifted me off the ground, giving me one hard smack across the face. Blood sprayed from my nose.

“Big Red wanted me to ask you a question. Do you know anybody who lives at 365 Chestnut Road?”

“Yeah, my mom. Why?” Oh shit. Not my family!

“What about 78 Wilkens Street?”

“My baby’s mom and my son. Why? What you want with them?” I was trying to sound tough, but I was so scared I was about to piss on myself.

“’Cause if you’re not here on Monday, we gonna see them. And believe me, it’s not gonna be pretty. Understand?” He dropped me on the floor and inspected his shirt. “You got blood on my shirt. Add seven dollars to that fifteen thousand, ’cause you gonna pay for it to be cleaned.”

Bubba walked out of my apartment and I lay on the floor for a few minutes, trying to think of my next move. I knew Bubba wasn’t joking about going to see my mom or my baby’s mom if I wasn’t here on Monday. I got my ass up, went over to the phone, and dialed my mother’s number.

“Hello?”

“Ma, it’s me, Rodney.”

“Rodney? Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, Ma. It’s about one o’clock.”

“One o’clock? Why are you calling me at one o’clock in the morning? You not in jail, are you? ’Cause I ain’t got no bail money. You hear me?”

“No, Ma. I’m not in jail. I just called to tell you I love you.”

“Ah, baby, I’m sorry. Mama loves you, too.”

“’Night, Ma.”

“’Night, Rodney.”

I hung up the phone and stared into space. Originally I was gonna ask her to go down South for a few weeks until I could get things straight with Big Red. But once I heard her voice I knew she wouldn’t have listened to me. And my baby’s mama, knowing her, she would be even more stubborn. So I was stuck. Skipping town was out of the question now.

I looked up at the ceiling. Paul had somebody up there and he was getting his groove on. I sat and listened for a while, then I fell asleep.

When I woke up I could hear Paul going at it again. I’m not sure who he was with, but whoever she was, he was putting it on her. It sounded like his bed was going from one end of the room to the other.