Читать книгу Hard White - Shannon Holmes - Страница 11

Chapter Five

True 2 Da Game

Out on Laconia Avenue, blue and white police cars raced through the street with sirens blaring, rushing from the 47 ^th Precinct on 229^th Street to God knows where. A block up the street, and what seemed like a world away, Melquan and Sheron sat in the Kennedy Fried Chicken spot eating the house special, chicken wings and French fries. They kicked it for a minute about everything from school to sports. Melquan soon realized that Sheron loved sports but hadn’t participated because of his mother.

“She’d be showing up to the games all drunk and high talking shit. So I quit.”

“Shorty, you gotta forgive her, cause no matter what she’s still ya mother,” Melquan said between bites of chicken. “She knows not what she does.”

They continued chatting and hit it off, laughing and playing. Melquan stole food off Sheron’s plate and Sheron did the same to Melquan. Both of them quickly became real familiar with each other.

“You still hungry, Sheron? You want sumthin else? Or maybe you wanna take sumthinupstairs with you for later on? Maybe another soda, ice cream, or whateva…?”

Melquan’s voice trailed off as he watched Sheron’s reaction. The kid seemed caught between shyness and neediness. There was a hesitation before Sheron gave an answer.

“Thanks, but I guess I’ll be alright. We can head back by my building. I got some homework to do.”

“But how can you do your homework if you hungry? You know you can’t even concentrate when you stomach’s makin’ funny noises, shorty.”

“I know, but really Melquan, I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

“You sure…? Never let your pride get in the way of asking for sumthinthat you need. Closed mouths don’t get fed. Shorty, think about it. You working, and you get hungry later, and you ain’t got nothing in the house to eat…Hmm, hmm?”

Melquan saw shyness in Sheron but asked anyway. There was something about Sheron that made Melquan recognize that he was a good kid. He had not been tarnished by the ways of the world, or the projects. It seemed as if he wanted to really accept the offer but was too bashful to do so. Still Melquan had to make an offer that Sheron couldn’t refuse. It was the drug dealer in him.

“Look, I don’t care what you say. I’m get you sumthin anyway. How about that…?”

“I guess, alright,” Sheron said, giving in. “But my mother gets her welfare check tomorrow. So we’ll have whole lotta food to eat. Tomorrow, we’ll be good.”

“Okay, but you gotta make it through the night to get to tomorrow, feel me?” Melquan said.

Melquan got up from his seat and walked over to the counter and bought another order of chicken wings and French fries to go. After the order was processed and paid for he returned to Sheron and handed him the bag of food.

“Here, you go, shorty.”

“Good lookin’out, Melquan.”

Together they exited the restaurant and walked the short distance back to the projects. They made small talk the entire way, but deeper things were on Melquan’s mind. He couldn’t believe how Sheron had initially resisted the meal but was anticipating his mother’s welfare check. To him there was a strange irony in that. Melquan had equal feelings of both pity, and respect.

Back in her apartment, Sheron’s mother was geeking. High as she had ever been, Tess was feeling herself. She walked out the bathroom glancing around the apartment like her head was on a swivel. The slightest sound got her complete attention. Tess meticulously surveyed every inch from the entrance through to the kitchen. She entered the kitchen on her hands and knees, crawling. Tess was looking for lost crack rocks or anything resembling one. Real or not, they would be smoked on sight.

Tess didn’t bother to hide just how high she was. Being discreet wouldn’t make the crack monster go away. Tess found it damn near impossible to come down once she was got this high. Anyone coming inside her apartment at this very moment would have to bear witness to her desperation. Tess was on her knees searching the floor for more get high. The crack was urgently calling her.

Back in the projects, Melquan and Sheron navigated the concrete walkways. Everyone they passed seemed to know and acknowledge Melquan. The outpouring of love captured Sheron’s attention. There were enough handshakes and embraces for Sheron to see that Melquan was very popular. He watched carefully as Melquan showed love back, kissing females on their cheeks and hugs for the dudes. It was like he was walking with a famous person, a ghetto superstar.

“Wow Melquan, who don’t you know?” Sheron smiled as another group stopped gave daps, and moved on.

Continuing down the block, they walked past Melquan’s building, number 1132. Close to home, they showed him lots of love. Melquan’s ghetto pass was on full display. The projects area was really his stomping grounds. It was the place where he was born and raised.

They entered Melquan’s building on the South side. Melquan and Sheron got on the elevator and rode it to the sixth floor.

“This is where I rest, shorty,” Melquan said, reaching for his keys.

He opened the door to the two-bedroom apartment occupied by his mother. She was up, walking around the living room, dressed in a fluffy pink bathrobe. Miss Tina was honey-brown complexioned, five foot six inches tall and big boned. A curvaceous fortyish woman, Miss Tina was still hanging on strong to her youthful appearance. Her makeup was already in place and her hair perfectly wrapped up in a scarf.

Sleeping all day and pampering herself, was her daily routine. She could afford to do so because of the hefty disability check she received for hurting her hand at her post office job, some years ago. Her life was akin to that of a drug dealer, except she slept all day and partied all night. Miss Tina was a barfly; she loved to frequent the upscale bars and lounges through out the Bronx and Harlem, where moneymakers, mover and shakers of the underworld were known to gather.

“Come on in, shorty. Now you know where I live, if you ever need anything, for real, call me or come by.”

Miss Tina stood in background posturing. She halfheartedly glanced at Melquan, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Melquan, who is that kid you got with you? Is he one of your workers, or something…?”

“Ma’…” Melquan sighed. “C’mon now… What I look like, huh?”

“Boy, you better watch your mouth and save your teeth. I don’t care how big you get I’m still your damn mother. Don’t you get too smart. I ain’t one of your lil’ friends out there in the streets. Get that! I was asking a simple question. Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. I need some money. I’m going out tonight.”

“Round how much do you need?”

“I don’t know… Lemme see, I’m gonna need money for a cab to get back home… Hmm um, just give me two hundred. Yeah, that should be enough. What you think…?”

“Damn ma, where you going…? Two hundred dollars…? You killin’ me.” Melquan said.

Despite his objections, Melquan would never say no to his mother. She had him wrapped around her pinkie. Miss Tina took good care of him growing up and now that he was making money, it was his turn to return the favor. Melquan couldn’t believe how avaricious her appetite for money had grown, and how selfish she had become. It was like the more he gave his mother, the more money she asked for.

Melquan reached into his pocket, and pinched off a few bills. He didn’t dare remove the money from his pocket because his mother would get greedy and ask for more. Unfortunately for Melquan, the amount of money he pinched off was more than the amount requested. He stood in front of mother attempting to count it.

“Thanks.” Miss Tina sardonically said. “No need in counting it. That looks like enough.”

Melquan shook his head in disgust and watched Miss Tina strolled back down the hall back into her bedroom. He couldn’t help but think just how much his mom was involved in the drug game, however indirectly it might have been. Most of his friends’ mothers would never take this blood money, as they called it. Miss Tina wasn’t like most mothers. She was money hungry.

Back in the days, Ms Tina would use her good looks to get whatever her heart desired. She was the pick of the litter in the projects, a hustler’s wet dream and his worst nightmare rolled into one. Her heart was equally dark, and she was corrupted like anyone in the streets. Miss Tina would chase a dollar just as hard as any crack-head chase get high.

“Melquan…!” Miss Tina shouted from her bedroom.

“Yeah,” Melquan answered.

“What did you say boy? You’re a no manners having somebody. You know that…?”

“Huh? What you say?” Melquan laughed.

“Anyway, that lil’ heifer, India keep calling my phone… She left about five messages on my damn answering machine. I started to pick up the phone and tell her about her a thing or two. Don’t you give her your cell number? What she keep calling here for? That girl worst than any damn bill collector, you hear? You better talk to her ‘fore I do.”

Melquan removed his cellphone from his pocket and realized that his phone had been on silent mode. When he checked, there were more than a dozen missed calls. All were from India.