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2 Paul

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I could see Kerri’s light was still on when I pulled up to the building. That made me pause and think, because she was usually in bed by eleven and it was way past that now. It’s kinda funny how quickly I’ve learned her routine. I can tell you what time she gets up in the morning, what time she leaves for work, and what time she comes home without even giving it a second thought. Hell, I could probably tell you what time she takes a piss if you really wanted to know. And no, I’m not her over-bearing boyfriend or some deranged stalker. I’m her neighbor, her next-door neighbor to be precise, and with the thin-ass walls in our building, I can hear everything that goes on in her apartment. And I mean everything! Especially her sex life.

The way she moans and calls out that sorry-ass old dude’s name she be messin’ with is enough to make a brother sick to his stomach. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to hate, but what the fuck does he got that I ain’t got? Well, except for a Mercedes. Oh yeah, I think he’s got a Lexus, too, but hell, I got a Maxima. I mean, I just don’t understand why she ain’t gave me none yet. I’m always nice to her. Dammit, what the fuck is she waiting for, Christmas? Shit, she don’t know what she’s missing. I would put it on her ass.

I closed my eyes and imagined her lying back on her canopy bed, legs spread, with her fingers pulling back the hood of her clit as I knelt down between her legs.

“Paul, oh Paul!” she’d moan as I French kiss her pooh-pooh with my catlike tongue. “Eat me, Paul. Oh God, eat me! Please, just eat me!”

Just as it’s gettin’ good for her, I’d stop abruptly and tease her with my words.

“Is that it, baby? Is that what you want me to do? Eat you?” She’d nod her head and I’d smile. Then I’d moisten my lips and lower my head to finish what I’d started.

“Paul! Paul! Paul!”

I shook my head and snapped myself back into reality. Shit, I wasn’t in Kerri’s apartment. I was still in my car and someone was out there calling my ass for real.

“Paul! Paul! Paul!”

“Who dat?” I shouted, searching the dark parking lot until a wobbly figure appeared at the rear of my car.

“It’s me, Freddie. What’s wrong with you? Can’t you hear? I called your ass ’bout ten times. What’s up, nigga, you drunk? ’Cause if you is, let me get a taste.” Freddie was the neighborhood wino. A pain in the ass at times, but Freddie was generally harmless.

“Freddie, whatcha want, man?”

“I need to borrow two dollars until the day after tomorrow.” He almost fell over.

“You need what?” I looked at him like he was crazy.

“I need to borrow two dollars until tomorrow. So I can play Lotto. Ain’t you heard? The jackpot’s fifty million.”

“Yeah, I heard, but I ain’t givin’ you shit.” I stepped out of my car.

“Come on, Paul,” he whined, “with the numbers I got, I can’t miss. Matter of fact, if I win I’ll split it with you.” He spread his hands apart as if to say, How can you beat that?

“Yeah, right.” I laughed at him pityingly.

“What? Don’t you trust me?”

“Hell no, I don’t trust your drunk ass! Only thing I trust you to do is go down to the Quick-Mart and buy a forty so your drunk ass can get drunker.”

“Damn, Paul, why you bein’ so cheap? All I wanna do is buy a couple’a lottery tickets. If I wanted money for a forty, I woulda told you it was for a forty.” He had the nerve to have an attitude.

“Well, why don’t you get a job? Then you won’t have to ask me for shit.” I hit the alarm on my Maxima and headed towards my building.

“Fuck you, Paul, you cheap bastard. I should fuck up your car.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. He was mumbling and probably didn’t think I’d heard him, but I did.

“What’d you say?”

“Nothin’.” He tried to look innocent.

“Fuck with my car if you want to, Freddie. But I’ma tell you what. If you do, you better hit that damn lottery. ’Cause after the ass-whipping I’m gonna give you, you’re gonna need every dime to pay for your hospital bills. Now get away from my fucking car.”

“Man, fuck you and your car,” he muttered as he walked off.

Any other time I probably would’ve given Freddie the two dollars, but I was still pissed off about spending my money on this sister Jade I’d gone out with last night.

I’d taken her to Red Lobster and a movie, which was not my norm. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a pretty boy or anything. Shit, matter of fact some might call me a little overweight. But in a town that’s got a ratio of ten women to every one man, a brother with a good job and his own place has got it made, and I was that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. At least I was to everyone but Kerri.

I opened the main door to my building, noticing the 987 and shaking my head. We live at 5987 Easy Street, but the 5 had fallen off before I moved in and none of my fellow tenants or my landlord had found the need to fix it. Our landlord, well, she didn’t fix nothin’, ’cause she was in financial straits. Funny thing was that for the most part it was a fairly decent spot to live. Not located in the best neighborhood, but it was clean and the rent was cheap. The building had four apartments. Kerri and I lived in the second-floor apartments, and Rodney, this thug-ass brother I suspected of selling drugs, lived under Kerri. My landlord Katrice and her husband Jordan lived in the apartment on the bottom floor under me.

As I walked into the building Rodney was walking in also. He was probably coming home from a long day at the corner selling drugs. We exchanged pleasantries and I eyed the dude as he walked into his apartment. He acted tough, but the truth was he was soft as butter and one of these days I was gonna turn him in to the police.

I could smell the strong scent of incense coming from Kerri’s apartment, which basically told me she had company. I’d been seeing her with this older dude for the past couple of months. I guess he’d spent enough so that she felt obligated to finally give the old bastard some. Lucky for him. At least somebody was getting some tonight, ’cause I sure as hell wasn’t.

A Dollar And Dream

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