Teresa D. Patterson

***DISCLAIMER***

This excerpt may contain strong language and/or adult content. Please read at your own discretion.

CHAPTER ONE

LaShae Byrts stepped outside to retrieve the newspaper. She just knew she’d read another headline about something happening on the south side. If it wasn’t police brutality, then someone had shot or stabbed somebody else.

Things had just died down from the recent riots they’d had when a white cop that shot a black teenager got off free- again. They had set the city on fire. Those crazy Negroes had actually burned up a news helicopter! The state ended up sending in the S.W.A.T. to calm things down. The racial tension could still be felt. The black youth of Saint Petersburg were consumed with an inner rage.

The family in the apartment to the right of LaShae stood out in the yard arguing. There had to be about nine people living in a cramped two-bedroom apartment. So many people came in and out at all times of the night. Somebody was always getting into an altercation. Last week it had been because somebody had smoked up someone else’s weed. Today, it was over the aunt sleeping with one of her niece’s baby’s daddy. Tomorrow, it would probably be over who drank all the red Kool-Aid or ate all the collard greens.

The aunt vehemently denied that anything took place, but the other niece insisted that she’d seen it with her own eyes.

“Auntie, you is lyin’!” the girl yelled. The gold teeth she tried to pass off as a grill gleamed. “I saw Danny Boy comin’ outta yo room, zippin’ up his pants!” Her hair, braided in platinum plaits, hung down her back. They swung as she argued.

“You’s a damn lie!” The aunt rolled her neck and put her hands on her hips. “If you seent him, you musta been high or drunk.” She looked her niece up and down while she moved her hand over her “waterfalls” hairdo. “And knowin’ you, you was probably both.”

“No I wasn’t! I mighta been a lil tipsy but I still know what I saw!” They pointed and got in each other’s face.

“Auntie, you ain’t nothin’ but a ho!” the other girl butt in to say. “You don’t be actin’ like nobody’s auntie. But dat’s aiight. Danny Boy ain’t no damn good anyway. You can have his ole limp dick ass! And I hope y’all used a condom ‘cause I heard he burnt his baby mama!”

“I ain’t got to worry ‘bout dat ‘cause I tol’ you I didn’t mess wit’ no damn Danny Boy. Now, y’all know me betta dan dat! I am not dat hard up for some dick. Come on now!”

“You is that hard up,” Jookie Shorty shouted out. “You know yo’ ugly ass gotta sneak up on some dick and catch it. Ain’t none comin’ ya way voluntarily.”

“What is you tryin’ to say?” The aunt forgot about the disagreement with her niece and turned on Jookie Shorty.

“You heard me. Ya ass is ugly. Ain’t nobody gonna sleep wit’ ya ugly ass willingly. In dat aspect, I don’t believe Danny Boy was ever in ya room.”

“And how the hell do you know?” the niece that had started the argument asked. “Was you there?”

“Hell naw! I don’t mess around wit’ big ol’ hambeasts like ya aunt. Hell naw I wasn’t there.”

“Then shut ya damn mouth and stay outta our business!”

“I get in whoever business I wanna get in. I’m Jookie Shorty!”

“Like somebody supposed to be scared. You ain’t nobody Jookie Shorty, wit’ ya broke, crack smokin’ ass!”

“You ain’t nobody either. None of you!” Jookie Shorty yelled back. “Just a bunch of food stamp bitches!”

“Don’t end up gettin’ ya ass stomped by these food stamp bitches!” the aunt threatened. All the women glared at him, itching to fight.

“Fuck all y’all!” he said. Ignoring them, he went back to the bicycle he’d been working on.

Drama all the time! Shae was so used to it that she didn’t even bother to show any interest. Besides, one of the girls, Tia, couldn’t stand her or her family. Their mama had gotten into it with her at the bar one Friday night. It was rumored that Mrs. Byrts had cracked Tia across the head with a barstool. Even though Tia had clearly been beat, the drunken woman had insisted upon taking the fight outside. Once outdoors, Mrs. Byrts hit her with her high heel shoe and threw her into the bushes. Tia lost her wig and had to walk home looking tore up. It had been the talk of the projects for weeks.

Tia glanced at Shae and curled her lips. Shae did the same, showing that she wasn’t the least bit concerned.

Hoes love to hate she thought. If Tia wanted a piece of her, she could bring her fat ass on. Just because Shae was cute, didn’t mean that anyone could disrespect her and get away with it. Shae had an attitude and a temper to match. She’d gotten them both from her mama. She wouldn’t back down from anybody. The bitches of the projects knew not to mess with her if they didn’t want to catch a beat down. She’d even fought some of the disrespectful boys when she was younger. The same ones were trying to get at her now. They still didn’t know how to show respect, so she wasn’t interested.

Project people made her sick. The projects made her sick. Shae hated everything about Jordan Park. The city had recently renovated the apartments, but in her opinion, it was still ghetto. No matter what they did, Jordan Park was located in the hood. Therefore, it attracted hood rats.

The majority of the women who lived in Jordan Park was younger than twenty-five and had at least one child. If they had more than one, they had different baby daddies. The baby daddies usually were locked up or didn’t take care of their children. That left the women to depend on the government for a check and food stamps. Jookie Shorty had been right in his assessment of the women: a bunch of food stamp bitches.

Usually, by the fifth of the month, most of the women would be sporting fancy hairstyles and acrylic nail tips. They’d show up at Somthin’ Different or Karma wearing new Apple Bottom, Baby Phat or J Lo brand outfits, trying to act all new. The Nine Dollar Shoe Store and the Maxi Mall would have made a major profit.

Shae didn’t just think she was better than those women, she knew she was better. The only thing they had in common was their living situations. And she blamed that on her mama. She didn’t pop out illegitimate children just so she could collect a government check each month. She didn’t hang in hole-in-the-wall clubs, trying to catch some broke pimp’s eye. Most of the men she knew, she tolerated them for one reason: they gave her money. She didn’t spread her legs or lay on her back for one red cent because she had it like that. She wasn’t a whore and even if she had to be one, she’d never be a broke one.

“Damn Red!” someone shouted, spotting her on the porch.

“What’s up, Red?” came from another person.

“That’s one hot piece of ass!”

Laughter and snickers rang out. Tia and her family members rolled their eyes, but didn’t say anything. Shae knew they just wanted what she had, jealous cows! No way could their two hundred plus pound bodies compete with her hourglass figure. She was sexy and petite, while they stood there looking like the Pillsbury Dough Boy ready to pop out of their tight clothing.

She’d overheard Tia bragging to someone about being a cheerleader in high school. She must have cheered for Hostess Cupcakes! Shae couldn’t picture her big ass at the top of a human pyramid.

LaShae smiled at all the men making fools out of themselves, trying to get her to acknowledge them. Not one of them had a chance in hell. She had to admit that she loved the attention, though.

Just to get a wilder reaction from the crowd, she bent to scoop up the newspaper that lay in the yard. She made sure to turn just so- to give the guys a sneak-peek of the black, lacy underwear she wore under her revealing, mini-skirt. This gave the envious women who were watching her every move something to talk about. Shae didn’t give a hot damn. They could go tell the white people for all she cared.

She knew the men had been looking and that was her plan. She took her time straightening up. Then, her steps were slow and deliberate as she headed back toward the apartment. She paused to shake her long, thick, shoulder-length hair.

LaShae was beautiful and she knew it. She’d discovered that at an early age. At eighteen, she’d filled out in all the right places. She possessed the body of a woman and it complemented her face. More often than not, she’d been mistaken for white because of her pale complexion. She had natural, fine, curly hair and hazel eyes, which added to her bi-racial beauty. She’d learned to use her looks to get anything she wanted. She’d decided that it would be her way out of her poverty-stricken lifestyle.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she made her escape from the hood. Her mother might be content to be poor, but she refused to be stuck with nothing but rats and cockroaches for the rest of her life. Low-income housing would be a thing of the past. She just had to save up enough money to get a place of her own.

Somebody else’s money.

“I saw ya hot tail out there teasin’,” her grandmother said as soon as Shae entered the apartment. “You gonna get ya self in a lot of trouble one of these days. Mark my words!”

Her eighty-six-year-old grandmother sat in a rocker by the window. She wore a colorful housedress and sported a stylish black wig with gray highlights. She rocked gingerly as she knitted an afghan to match the scarf she’d already made. She did it to pass the time, doubtful that either of her grandchildren would appreciate such things. They were too picky. Wanted to wear that garbage they saw the rap stars on TV wearing. Fubu or Hoodoo, Sean Thumb, whatever! Well, she was going to finish it anyway.

She’d knitted every day since she’d moved in with them three months earlier. It had become a routine. Maybe one day somebody would appreciate her efforts. Knitting took time, and it was painful due to her arthritic hands. She wasn’t going to stop, though. Not until her time on earth was up. She’d give up knitting when she gave up the ghost.

“Aw, Ma Violet, shut ya old mouth,” Shae told her. “You ain’t got nothin’ better to do than sit in that raggedy chair and be nosey all day long. Stay out of my business!”

“Fast behind lil heifer! You too hot at the mouth just like you hot between the legs. Gonna been done caught somethin’ one of these days!” Ma Violet huffed, paused her knitting, and glared at Shae.

“Just shut up, you old goat!” Shae snapped as she stomped into the kitchen. Her grandmother got on her last nerve.

“Watch how you talk to me, you high yellow wench,” Ma Violet warned. “Jus’ plain disrespectful. You cuttin’ ya blessings short and jus’ don’t know it. God don’t like ugly!”

“Whatever,” she muttered under her breath, thinking that Ma Violet had been nothing but a pain in the ass since she’d moved in. She wished the old woman would hurry up and die or something.

Shae immediately felt guilty for thinking such thoughts. Ma Violet couldn’t help being old. It wasn’t her fault that she’d fractured her hip and couldn’t live on her own any longer. She’d been forced to sell her home and move in with them. Shae knew that Ma Violet hated depending on anyone for anything. Maybe that’s why she stayed in such a sour mood. All she ever did was crochet and complain.

Shae remembered that it hadn’t always been like that. Years before, Ma Violet had been the best grandmother that a child could ever want. When her parents would take them to visit, Ma Violet would always have a special treat, just for her. She’d either have a bag of root beer flavored candy or some jellybeans. For some reason, Shae liked the black ones best.

Ma Violet used to keep large containers filled with potato chips on top of the bureau in her bedroom. Shae and Toby would sneak into her room while she was in the kitchen, open up the containers and grab a handful of barbeque and another filled with plain. They’d hide behind the couch and secretly eat them, giggling because they figured Ma Violet would never find out. By the time she had dinner on the table, neither would have much of an appetite. They would never hurt Ma Violet’s feelings by not eating her cooking, though. Instead, they’d take turns throwing most of it out the window where their dog, King, greedily ate it up. Ma Violet never knew the difference. If she’d ever caught them, she’d probably have gotten a switch off the tree and tore their legs up. She believed in the philosophy, “waste not, want not.”

Shae’s favorite memory of Ma Violet was of her being the flip lady. Every summer, the neighborhood kids raced to Ma Violet’s house to buy her flips, iced juice in paper or Styrofoam cups. Ma Violet made the best pineapple flip in all of St. Petersburg!

Ma Violet’s house had been filled with love and laughter. Everybody showed up on Thanksgiving and Christmas to celebrate family and togetherness.

On Thanksgiving, the smells of turkey, ham, pies, and cakes would have your mouth watering and your stomach grumbling. Everyone would gather around and join hands. Ma Violet would bless the food then everyone would dig in like there was no tomorrow.

After dinner, the women would clean up the kitchen and put all the leftovers away. The men would stand around sipping on eggnog laced with brandy or rum. Before everyone headed separate ways, the entire family would help to put up the Christmas decorations.

LaShae could remember standing out in the front yard and watching the Christmas lights in the windows blink. It had become such a wonderful tradition.

Christmas had been a repeat of Thanksgiving with the exchanging of gifts included in the celebrations. Shae, Toby, and their oldest sister would receive so many toys they’d have to carry them home in a Hefty garbage bag.

Everything changed when their father left and Mrs. Byrts began drinking. The visits to see Ma Violet dwindled to once a month and then quickly became nonexistent. They rarely heard from Ma Violet after moving to the projects. From time to time, she’d come over and tried to talk some sense into her daughter. Many times, after being severely beaten, her sister Vivian had run away and gone to Ma Violet’s house. It wasn’t until her accident that Ma Violet had reentered their lives.

Now, there she sat, rocking and giving Shae the evil eye.

“Shae, ya yellow ass ain’t done nothin’ I done told you to do!” her mother yelled from upstairs, startling her out of memories of the past. “When you gonna wash these smelly ass clothes and change them pissy sheets on ya brothers’ beds? You gonna have me get on ya ass, that’s what you gonna have me do!”

“Shit! You’d think I was a slave around here,” Shae griped, slamming dirty dishes into the sink and turning on the water. She hated washing dishes. She got tired of cleaning up all the time. But it wasn’t like her mother was going to do it.

“What the hell you said?” Her mother came down the stairs, her feet heavy on each step. She wore a deep frown as she glared at her daughter. “Mumblin’ to ya self gone get you hit in ya fuckin’ mouth! Get ya ass up there and get busy!”

Mrs. Byrts was a big, strong, no-nonsense type of woman. Her complexion was pale like her daughter’s, and she had the same pretty face, hazel eyes, and naturally curly hair. Even though she weighed about a hundred pounds more than she should, her attractiveness still showed. If she wanted a man, she could pull one. She just saw no use for limp dick motherfuckers. All they’d ever left her with was a wet spot on the mattress in the morning and a feeling of disappointment. She could have had a V8.

“Why I got to do every fuckin’ thang,” Shae complained.

“Girl, don’t start with me! This house better be clean when I get back from grocery shoppin’. Tell Toby to get his sorry ass up and clean out that refrigerator. If he can’t go to school like he supposed to, then he can get out and get a fuckin’ job. That go for you too, Miss Beauty Queen!” Shae rolled her eyes. “You can stand there cuttin’ ya fuckin’ eyes all you want, but when I get back the shit better be done. You know you’ll catch hell from my big ass if it ain’t!” She turned to Ma Violet. “Mama, you want something from the sto’?” She ignored Shae’s huffing and puffing. “How ‘bout some powdered donuts?”

“That’ll be fine and some Maxwell House coffee, if it ain’t too much trouble,” Ma Violet said sweetly.

“Alright. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Shae sucked air through her teeth. “Right,” she muttered. Mrs. Byrts threw her daughter a sour look, said nothing further, then slammed out the front door.

“Clean up this damn yard!” they heard as she made her way down the sidewalk.

Shae knew that her mother wouldn’t be back until some time after dark, if she made it home at all. Mrs. Byrts loved to frequent the High Hat Liquor Lounge. If she wasn’t there then she was at Tom’s game room or at the George Washington Bar. Lately, she’d been hanging out at Ike’s Liquor Lounge #2. She got around, even if it meant walking.

She hung out, played pool, gambled, and got sloppy drunk almost every night. Shae couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother sober. She had probably already started earlier that morning. Shae knew that she kept a stash of E & J or Paul Mason on hand.

She shook her head in order to stop thinking about it. Drinking all the time couldn’t be good for anybody. Plus, it was probably the reason her mother was always in a bad mood.

Shae turned to her grandmother, now oozing sweetness. “Ma Violet, will you wash the dishes for me?” she asked.

“Why should I? After all that sassin’ you done? Naw, I don’t think so!”

“Grandma, please! I can’t do everything she told me to do befo’ she get back,” she complained.

“If you stop standin’ there whinin’, you could done started by now.” Her grandmother had no sympathy for her.

“You old goat! I hope you swallow ya teeth!” Not being able to get her way, she resorted back to name calling and rudeness.

“I hope you get ya hot tail beat and that’s what’s gone happen if you don’t do what ya mama tol’ ya,” Ma Violet replied smugly. Shae rolled her eyes and her grandmother laughed.

Ma Violet went back to her knitting. She glanced at Shae and thought. What had happened to that little, skinny, pigtail-wearing gal who had been so sweet? Just an angel, yes she was! Couldn’t nobody tell her that her granddaughter wasn’t the prettiest, smartest lil-’ girl in the whole world.

She could remember taking her granddaughter to the store, Dr’s Pharmacy back in the day. If anybody asked her, that store had outdone any Kash N Karry or Winn Dixie. It had been owned and run by black folk. Couldn’t find too many establishments like that around anymore.

She’d take Shae there and buy her all types of candy and bows and whatnots for her hair. Occasionally, she’d purchase her some of them jacks or a bolo bat so she and her little brother could have something to play with. She got tired of them climbing in her grapefruit and orange trees. She’d even caught them in the neighbor’s mango tree. Them kids had been so rambunctious!

The holidays had been the best. It had been family time and a reason to celebrate and feast on all types of foods. She usually started picking the greens the day before and would get started on the chitterlings because they took so long to clean. Boy, she loved her some chitterlings and hog maws. They didn’t smell too good during the cleaning and cooking, but the finished product made her mouth water. She usually threw in a tad of baking soda and a top of lemon juice to take away the smell.

She’d cut up all her onions, celery, and bell peppers, too. Then she’d boil the eggs for the potato salad, make the corn bread for the homemade stuffing, and boil the sweet potatoes for the pies. The next morning, all she’d have to do was concentrate on the ham and the turkey. It had been such a great time of celebration.

How she missed those days. She’d cherished her family, always wanting to keep them close. It didn’t matter to her that Jimmy B was a Hispanic. He’d been the one her daughter had chosen to marry, so she had accepted him wholeheartedly.

When he’d run off and left her baby, she’d watched Bertha change. She started drinking that brown liquor, hanging in the streets, and whipping on her children.

Even though she believed in “-spare the rod, spoil the child,-” she didn’t go for that! No matter what’s going on inside you, you don’t ever take anything out on your own flesh and blood. She’d tried to make Bertha understand that but, Bertha didn’t want to hear nothing anybody had to say to her about raising her kids. Instead, she stopped coming around, stopped bringing the children. They stayed holed up in those god-forsaken projects not even calling to see if she was still alive! The shame of it all!

It had just about broken her heart. The only time she saw one of them kids was when the oldest one started running away. She tried to help, but from a distance. It hurt her to the core to hear about Vivian leaving home for good. She couldn’t much blame her, though. If you keep kicking a dog, one day that dog is either going to get up and bite the hell out of you, or it’s going to haul tail! Bertha should have done right by that gal. Now, nobody knew where the child had gone. Hadn’t heard from her in about six years. Her heart truly ached from missing that baby. Vivian had run off to get away from the projects because she saw first hand what it had done to her mother.

Now, here she was. Here in these dreadful projects right along with her evil hearted daughter. She had to try so hard not to let her own heart turn to stone. It would serve no purpose to become bitter. If you focus so much on your own woes, how can you find time to think about helping anybody else? The Bible says, “count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptation.” She found herself still waiting for the joy to come. Maybe it would just sneak up on her suddenly.

Ma Violet sighed. She missed her house. Her home had been paid for. It had been safe, clean and quiet. She had peace there. She didn’t worry about gunshots disturbing her sleep or drug addicts trying to break in. She didn’t even have to listen to that loud rap music that her grandson loved to play each morning. At those moments, she almost wished she’d been afflicted with a hearing problem.

Her home had been her pride and joy. Her husband had built that house from the ground up. She raised four children there and had helped raise her grandbabies there, too. She sure did wish she could have kept it. She just hadn’t been able to keep up with the maintenance of it after the accident.

But, it wasn’t anybody’s fault that she slipped in the kitchen and fractured her hip. If she wanted to blame it on something, she could blame it on old age. God had His reasons. He’d sent her to live with her daughter to serve a purpose. She hadn’t figured out just what that purpose was yet, but she’d wait patiently on the Lord. He’d let her know in due time.

Ma Violet put her knitting to the side and got up slowly from the rocker. She then grabbed her walker and eased onto it.

“I’ll do the dishes, child,” she told Shae. “It’ll give me somethin’ to do besides look out this darn window. Ain’t nothin’ out there but dry grass and po’, pitiful negroes! What’s wrong wit’ the next-do’ neighbors? All they do is fuss and fight. They got too many negroes under the same roof, if’n you ask me. And what’s the deal wit’ the man wearin’ all them clothes? Ain’t he hot? It’s near ‘bout ninety degrees out yonder.”

Shae felt the relief brought on from her laughter. Her nerves had been strung so tight lately because of her mom’s constant hounding and complaining about everything. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

Mrs. Byrts could be ruthless when she wanted to be. It was all about control. If they didn’t do things her way, she’d make sure they’d regret it. That usually came in the form of a firm, ass whipping. It didn’t matter to Mrs. Byrts that Shae was almost grown and Toby was a six-foot-tall fourteen year old. It was her way or the highway.

“Thank you Ma Violet,” she told her grandmother. “I’m goin’ upstairs to get the twins’ room cleaned up.”

“Okay.” Ma Violet watched her granddaughter run up the stairs. She could picture that little girl wearing pigtails once again and it brought her joy. Where had all the years gone? If it was one thing she could testify to, it was that God had been good to her. For more than eighty-eight years, she’d been truly blessed.

“Lord, I thank you,” she shouted and made toward the kitchen.

Shae turned the knob on the first door that she approached and cracked it open. She took a step back because of the smell. She held her nose, opening the door all the way.

“Whew! Ugg!” The strong, unwelcoming scent of urine assaulted her nostrils. Her six-year-old, twin brothers had wet their beds again. That made the second time that week. She resented the extra work but knew she had to do it because her mama sure wasn’t going to. Shae had long since resigned herself to the fact that her mama looked on them as her personal servants. She still didn’t like it, though.

Going over to the window, she threw them open, hoping the circulating air would help. She snatched the identical Sponge Bob sheets off the bunk beds and tossed them on the floor. She figured she’d just as well wash the pillows and pillowcases, too. Both boys slept curled around them and they smelled just as bad as the sheets.

Loud music interrupted the quietness of the morning, signaling that her brother Toby had awakened. He always blasted his music, not having concern for anybody else in the house.

“Toby! Turn that shit down!” she yelled but the volume only increased. She grabbed the soiled items and took them to the laundry room. She threw them into the washing machine with some detergent. “Toby!” She called again because the loud music was starting to give her a headache. She slammed the lid on the washing machine closed and turned the knob to the correct setting. Once she heard the water running into the machine, she went to Toby’s room.

Shae tried the knob but found the door locked. She knocked a few times but got no answer. Finally, she pounded on the door with her fist. She knew he heard her and it pissed her off that he wasn’t answering.

“What?” Toby opened the door so abruptly that she stumbled into the bedroom and almost fell on the carpeted floor. His handsome face turned into a smirk as his sister glared at him. “That’s what you get,” he teased.

“Shut up!”

“What the fuck you want? Why you knockin’ like you the po po?” Toby was tall and thin. At fourteen, he was still maturing. His seemed to be all arms and legs. “What it do?”

“Mama want you to clean out the refrigerator,” she said.

“So what?” He didn’t seem concerned.

“So what, my ass! Clean it out, damnit! I’m not gettin’ in trouble for you.”

“Get outta my face!” He pointed his finger at her, trying to appear menacing. His sister knew that he was only playing. He towered above her but she would bust his ass if he ever tried her. Shae had a vile temper when somebody set her off. He’d witnessed her beat down quite a number of people. She’d had his back more than a few times. She didn’t take shit off of anybody except for Mrs. Byrts- but only because their mama was slap crazy.

“Come on, Toby. Please,” she pleaded.

“What I get out the deal?” He squinted his eyes.

“You can hold any of my CDs for a week.”

“Even the new ones?”

“Well, okay,” she relented.

“Eminem?” he pressed.

“Yeah, that one too. I said any of them!” she snapped.

“I don’t wanna hold CDs,” he said, changing his mind suddenly. “I want money.” She stared at him and he glared back.

“How much?” she asked, giving in. She really needed his cooperation. The last thing she wanted to do was clean a damn refrigerator on top of everything else.

“Twenty.”

“Boy, you must be on hard drugs! Where you think I get twenty dollars from?” she exclaimed.

“I know you got money. You was wit’ Larry and James las’ night, and I know at least one of them upped a few duckies.” His smirk grew wider. He knew he had his sister in a bind. She’d give him the money because she could get more where that came from. “So, what’s the deal?” he pressed.

“You need to get a job! I’m tired of bein’ blackmailed by you.”

“You givin’ me the money or what?” he asked.

“Ten dollars and not a cent more.”

“Ten?” He contemplated it. “Do I get to hold the CDs?”

“Yeah! You make me sick with ya lazy ass.”

“You still love me though.” He started dancing around the room to the rap song that blasted from his stereo.

“Do the cupid shuffle!” he chanted. “To the left, to the left-“

“Toby, stop clowning.”

“To the right to the right-“

“Toby, I’m trying to talk to you.”

“What girl?” he asked, irritated. “You messing up my flow.” He stopped dancing and glared at her.

“You know you really ought to be in school,” she told him in a serious tone.

“Why? You don’t go,” he said with a defiant glint in his eye.

“I’m almost eighteen years old. You are only fourteen.”

“So what? I hate school!” he spat.

“You didn’t used to hate it. You were popular in middle school and then you get to high school, and you hate it -What happened?”

He shrugged. “I was the shit in middle school, but thangs was dif’rent in the ninth grade. The older kids picked on us all the time. I felt like punchin’ niggas out.”

“They do that to all the underclassmen. You’ll get yo turn next year when you become a sophomore,” she said.

“No, I won’t cause I ain’t goin’ back to that bitch,” he snapped. He would never tell her about how the kids taunted him about his no name shoes and bargain store clothing. He wouldn’t dare step foot in that school again to deal with that because he knew he would go off on any and everybody there.

“Then what you gonna do with the rest of ya life, huh? If you don’t get an education, how you figure you gonna get out the projects?”

“How you gonna get out?” He threw the question back at her. He wanted to end the conversation. Thinking about how the kids had picked on him touched on a soft spot. It irritated him because he’d thought he’d gotten over that.

“I’m a woman. I have what men want and they willin’ to pay for it. That’s how I’m gettin’ out,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Toby threw back his head and laughed. “In that case,” he finally managed to say. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere. You gonna be a project ho ‘til ya die!”

“You don’t what you talkin’ about, dumb ass.” His insulting words cut into her, making her angry. “You’ll see. And it might be sooner than you think!” She flounced out of his room and slammed the door.

“Don’t be slammin’ my door,” he yelled behind her. “Heifer!”

Shae went into her own room and locked the door. She pulled up the carpet in the corner. She kept her stash underneath the padding. She reached down and retrieved the money. It made her tingle when she began to count out the tens, twenties, and even a few fifties. She’d conned the money out of lovesick, dumb ass men. When she finished counting, she had close to fifteen hundred dollars. That wasn’t bad, for somebody else’s money.

With a self-satisfied smirk, she added another fifty dollars to the pile. She’d easily gotten James Wallace to give her thirty by letting him fondle her breasts. She’d even gone so far as to let him suck on the delicate nipples. When he’d tried to go further, she’d made an excuse about it being that time of the month. With a disgusted look on his face, he’d pushed her away.

She’d gotten the other twenty from Larry Walker to buy some chicken from Churches. He’d been so drunk that she doubted he remembered giving her the money. Larry never expected anything in return. He was always a respectful, gentleman.

Shae remembered how James had played with her breasts and it caused a warm sensation between her legs. James was extremely handsome and damn was he fine! She knew that he wanted to get with her, but she wasn’t ready to give up her virginity--especially, not to anyone from the projects. She considered herself much too good for any of the neighborhood riff-raff.

Besides, James was twenty and he still lived with his mama. He’d gotten several girls pregnant and would shack up with one or the other until they’d kick him out. Then, he’d go right back to his mama’s place. He had no motivation, no skills, and seemed happy to drift from one dead-end job to the next.

No, she wasn’t about to give in to James. It didn’t matter to her how good looking he was or how he made her feel. The urge to have a hard, stiff dick would pass. If it got too intense, she could always rely on the vibrator she kept on the top shelf in her closet. It was a slim vibrator that she used to stimulate her clit. She’d occasionally insert it inside slowly, but not far enough to rupture her hymen. She didn’t want to lose her virginity that way, so she was careful.

She felt like taking it out at that moment but knew there wasn’t enough time to get any real pleasure. She had too much to do, thanks to her fat ass mama.

She sighed, put the money back into its secret place and walked over to her jewelry box. In the little drawer, she kept a few bucks. She grabbed a $5 and five ones for Toby. She really didn’t care about giving him the money because she could always get more. She ignored the twinge between her legs and left the room.

CHAPTER TWO

After Shae had left his room, Toby locked his door to make sure that no one else would enter unannounced, like his mama. He hadn’t needed the ten dollars that he’d gotten from his sister. He had money and plenty of it. He pulled a shoebox from under his bed and lifted the lid. Money spilled over the edges and on top of the pile of green lay a gun.

He didn’t know how he’d gotten mixed up in the dope gang and talked into selling drugs, but somehow that’s exactly what had happened. Now, he had to sell or face some serious consequences.

He sat on the edge of the bed and let his head fall into his hands. How could he get out without dying? He didn’t want to sell drugs anymore. It had been all glitz and glamour for a minute, but now it had lost its appeal. Though he would never admit it to Shae, he wished he could just go back to school and lead a normal life.

Shae wouldn’t understand if he told her. She’d try to talk him out of it, as if it was that easy. And his mother had never been the kind of mother that he could confide in. Besides, if and when she found out, he would probably get the hell kicked out of him. He was determined not to let that happened. His home life had prompted him to get involved with drugs in the first place. He’d started hanging out with some boys he went to school with just to get away from his mean ass mama. That’s when he’d been introduced to all kinds of drugs at a young age.

Before he could let common sense stop him, Toby began smoking marijuana and associating with drug dealers. He had become the look out, alerting crack and weed dealers of anyone suspicious in the area.

He figured selling drugs wasn’t all that hard to do and the money was practically instant, so he dropped out of school to become a full time dealer. He wasn’t worried about getting caught. Everybody he knew sold drugs and they never got caught. Even if he did get arrested, he’d receive a slap on the wrist, He could handle it.

He was rolling in the Benjamins, but he couldn’t spend it freely because his mama would find out, and he’d be damned if he’d give it away. He spent a little here and there on girls, but knew all about gold digging tricks. They had their palms out so often they resembled collection plates. They needed fancy hairdos, expensive jewelry, and new clothes. They wanted some dumb ass busta who would pay their light bill or go half on the rent. A trick would settle for whatever she could get but he wasn’t a paymaster.

He’d never fall for their lame lines even though they threw themselves at him constantly. They shook their tits at him and jiggled their ass, encouraging him to touch. Some had even gone so far as to show him their nookie – twirking it all up in his face, like that was going to change his mind. But, he wasn’t ready for sex. He knew that he was handsome and had a nice physique at his age. Some grown women even lusted after him. He just wasn’t ready to go that route. He felt that sex was overrated anyway and he could wait.

Toby smiled wickedly as he thought about the women who’d tried him. He wouldn’t go all the way, but he would let them give him a little slow smoking head, though. Even then, he’d make sure to use a condom. He wasn’t about to catch anything from some nasty skank. Besides, he heard about how some women would suck a nigga dry but not swallow the semen. They’d go into the bathroom and use a turkey baster to insert the sperm into them in an effort to trap a nigga. He’d be damned if anyone would be able to walk around saying he was their baby’s daddy! Being a teenaged father was the last thing he needed or wanted. When the time came, he knew how to protect himself. He had a top dresser drawer filled with Trojan condoms, just in case.

When Mrs. Byrts returned, Shae had taken the last basket of clothes out of the dryer. She’d cleaned the twins’ room and put fresh sheets on their beds. She’d vacuumed all the rooms and the hallway upstairs and had mopped the kitchen floor. The two bathrooms had been scrubbed clean: no ring around the tub, toothpaste or hair in the sink, and no smudges on the mirror. Shae made sure not to leave even a streak on the shower door. Something like that would cause Mrs. Byrts to flip out and have her redo everything.

Shae remembered one time when Toby hadn’t taken out the garbage after he’d been told.

Mrs. Byrts came home, saw the overflowing garbage can and became enraged. She picked up the garbage pail and dumped its contents on a sleeping Toby. After a few times of being awakened to the smell of funk, Toby learned to take the garbage out without being told.

Toby had cleaned out the refrigerator because he knew how their mama could get. Ma Violet had washed, dried, and put the dishes away. The entire apartment was in order, but Mrs. Byts still frowned after gazing around. You would think she’d be happy, but she wasn’t. Nothing ever seemed to please the woman. She complained about the living room not being vacuumed. Shae just rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her arms? As big as she was, she could easily pull a vacuum cleaner across the floor faster than Shae could do it.

“Toby, carry them groceries inside,” she ordered. Toby, not up for a confrontation, complied. When he placed the last bag on the table, he turned toward his mama. He could tell she wasn’t in a good mood, which was nothing new. She was ticking like a time bomb, and he wouldn’t wait around for the explosion. Besides, he had things to do. He wasn’t about to sit in the house like a prisoner of war and listen to his sour mama. That was out! He didn’t understand how his sister put up with it. In a few minutes, he would be missing in action, in places that even his mama wouldn’t go.

Mrs. Byrts entered the kitchen as he flew by her in a flash and said, “Mama, I’m goin’ to Doug’s house.” The front door closed behind him before she could react.

“He mus’ have a girlfriend he tryin’ to get to, high tailin’ it outta here like that,” Ma Violet mused, chuckling.

“As long as he don’t make no babies, he can have all the girlfriends he wants,” Mrs. Byrts said. “Shae put these groceries away. My back is hurtin’.”

Shae frowned. Toby always did whatever he wanted and she got stuck with all the work. Pretty soon the twins would be home from school. She’d have to help them with their homework then cook dinner because her mother refused to cook for “over-grown ass children.” That meant she’d have more dishes to wash. Plus, she’d have to bathe her younger siblings and get them ready for bed.

Shae felt the anger building inside her but choked it down. It wasn’t the twins’ fault that they had a fat, lazy ass mama. Maybe if Mrs. Byrts would get off the couch and do something…

After putting away the groceries, Shae went to her room. She couldn’t stand it when her mama was home. She hogged the television in the living room, watching talk shows and The Young & the Restless. Shae hated soap operas and liked to watch B.E.T. all day. If she did happen to watch anything else, it had to be interesting. Most TV shows bored the hell out of her. In her opinion, none of them bordered on reality not even the reality television shows like The Real World. The projects, now that was real.

Shae wanted to go to her cousin, Tashae’s house but knew that was out of the question. If her mama was home, she couldn’t go anywhere. Even though she was almost grown, her mama treated her like a baby. The only times she got to go anywhere was when her mama went to work or out drinking. She kept wishing Mrs. Byrts would leave, but every time she went downstairs to check, she found her mama still parked on the couch.

She didn’t dare ask permission to go over to Tashae’s. If she did, then her mama would start ranting and raving, calling her all types of names like tramp, streetwalker, or ho. Mrs. Byrts constantly accused Shae of being a slut and compared her to Vivian. Shae remembered that her sister Vivian had gotten pregnant at age fifteen. Shae hadn’t even had sex and she was seventeen years old. But to let her mama tell it, she was the biggest ho in Jordan Park, in all of St. Petersburg.

Bored with staring at four walls Shae went outside to sit on the front porch. She watched the older students walking from their bus stops. It made her think about high school and what she was missing out on. Had she not quit, she’d be in the twelfth grade. She’d probably be excited, looking forward to Grad Night, Senior Prom and graduation. But, she’d been robbed of those memories because she’d dropped out in the tenth grade.

Her mother didn’t even care that she stopped going to school. Since Shae would be home all day, she’d been ordered to take care of the twins. She’d done that until they’d gotten old enough to attend kindergarten.

Now, she stared at the teenagers with envy. They all looked so happy and carefree. Some of the girls stood in short skirts with their legs shiny from lotion, gazing at the boys who stood a few feet away. The boys with zigzag braids or low cut fades talked animatedly about their latest CDs or video games. A few lagged behind, smoking. She wondered if any of them had to take care of their younger siblings every day. Did their mamas get drunk, cuss them out and beat them all the time?

Another large, yellow bus pulled to a noisy stop and more students filed off. Shae saw faces pressed up against the windows gazing at her. When the bus drove off, she felt a deep sadness and sighed. Maybe one day she’d be able to go back to school and get her GED. She knew she had to do something.

“Shae!” her mama called through the screen door.

“Ma’am?”

“Brang ya ass in here and help ya grandma to the bathroom.”

Shae gritted her teeth. Why did she have to help? She didn’t understand why Mrs. Byrts couldn’t do it herself. Her mother was the certified nursing assistant and worked as a home health aide. She just shook her head, got up and went inside to do her mother’s bidding.

At a quarter after three the door burst open and in ran the twins. They immediately began to demand things until Shae stopped them with a glare.

“Charles and Chris, go upstairs, get out of ya school clothes, then come on back down and watch cartoons until I get dinner ready,” she instructed. They knew better than to disobey her because she would grab a belt and wear their behinds out. They could sense her anger and thought they caused it because of the soiled sheets. They went up the stairs quietly. Five minutes later, they trudged back down with freshly scrubbed hands and faces. She hadn’t had to tell them to do it.

They didn’t dare argue over which cartoons to watch as they usually did. The boys knew from experience that the slightest thing could set their sister’s temper off. Neither wanted to feel the sting of the belt. But, they’d rather get a spanking from Shae than from their mother on any given day.

Shae notice Charles take a sideways glance at their mother who sat on the couch. He didn’t want to chance making her angry. Most of the time, she just ignored them unless they did something she felt warranted a beating. Then, she’d attack them viciously with whatever she could lay her hands on. At times like that, Shae would intervene and usually ended up taking the brunt of the beating. She couldn’t stand to watch her mother punish the twins because the woman had no mercy.

Thankfully, nothing happened to unleash her fury. That day, she seemed almost happy. She’d even bought some powdered donuts that she gave to Ma Violet and the twins. From the kitchen, Shae glared at her in resentment. She really couldn’t stand the woman!

Once she’d prepared dinner, Shae called the twins to the table. They sat down, said Grace, and began to eat. She had fried some chicken wings, cooked rice and heated up some corn. Charles and Chris loved chicken, so they didn’t complain. Truthfully, they were good boys and rarely complained about anything. Shae didn’t understand why their mother treated them like redheaded stepchildren.

“Mama, can I go to the sto’?” she finally asked, needing to get out and stretch her legs.

“Go ‘head,” Mrs. Byrts grunted.

“Don’t let them brats go in my room,” she said.

“If they go in there, that’s they damn business,” she replied. “Should lock ya do’” Mrs. Byrts replied.

“What I gotta lock it for? They should jus’ stay out. It won’t stay locked anyway. All they have to do is shake on it and it’ll pop open.”

“What you got in there that’s so impo’tant?” Ma Violet tooted. Shae didn’t bother to answer her.

“Jus’ go to the sto’ and stop naggin’.” Mrs. Byrts snapped. “If they go in ya room, beat they asses! Shit! Jus’ leave me the fuck alone ‘bout it. Ok?”

Shae sighed. She’d grown tired of being the one to discipline the twins. They weren’t her children. It seemed like her mother had forgotten that fact. She loved her brothers and didn’t want to hurt one of them. It could happen. Each day it got harder to cope with all of the pressure, not to mention her mother’s attitude. She got yelled at and cursed out constantly as well as belittled on a daily basis.

Shae could understand why Vivian, her oldest sister, had left when she turned sixteen. She wondered where Vivian had gone and felt a sudden sadness. Vivian had run off and freed herself, and she was still left behind in hell.

“Thought you said you was goin’ to the sto’?” Her mom’s voice cut into her thoughts.

“I am,” she snapped. “Vivian is lucky she got away,” she thought as she squinted at her mother and felt something close to hatred burn in her chest.

“Bring me back one of them pickled, pig feet and a two liter bottle of Pepsi. Get some instant oatmeal for ya grandma’s breakfast,” the woman demanded. “And get another box of powdered donuts, too. This one ‘bout empty.”

“Didn’t you just go grocery shoppin’?”

“And?”

“Don’t seem like it.” Shae sucked air between her teeth, irritated.

“You mus’ not want to leave this house,” Mrs. Byrts threatened, eyes narrowing. “Get what I told you to get.”

“Okay!” Shae hurried out the door, grumbling under her voice. She couldn’t wait to get out of there so that she could breathe.

Once outside, she could immediately feel the men’s eyes bore into her and it boosted her ego. She might be nothing in her mother’s eyes, but out in the streets, she could be anyone she wanted. She felt beautiful and desirable. She felt like a queen.

“Hey, Shae, wait up!” She turned when someone called her and saw Larry Walker. Shae felt apprehensive but Larry just smiled when he approached her. She knew that if he was upset about her taking his money last night, he wouldn’t be cheesing it up in her face now.

“What’s up?” he greeted. “Girl, you sho look good! Good enuff to eat!” He laughed. Larry had a medium complexion. He was well built for a guy of eighteen. He fell in-between cute and handsome because of a birthmark that covered a great portion of the left side of his face. It was much lighter than the rest of his skin and it stood out. He had beautiful, soul-searching brown eyes.

“What’s up Larry?” she asked. For some reason, she always felt happy when she saw him. She couldn’t remember a day since she’d met him in the second grade that he hadn’t been around.

“Not much. I was headin’ to the sto’. Seem like you headed in the same direction. Mind if a nigga like myself tag along?”

“Larry, you know I don’t mind.”

“Just makin’ sure! I mean, you all beautiful and shit. I don’t want none of this ugliness to rub off on ya!”

“Larry, you know I don’t like hearin’ you talk like that. Stop puttin’ yaself down.”

Larry threw her a surprised look. He’d never heard her speak like that before. In the past when he made negative comments about his looks, she’d add to it. He’d expected her to say something like, “You ain’t ugly, but that spot coverin’ half ya face is!” Momentarily speechless, he just looked at Shae.

“You ok?” he asked, finally finding his voice.

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know. You just seem different or somethin’.”

“Naw. I’m ok,” she assured. “I jus’ had an argument with my mama again. She gets on my fuckin’ nerves.”

“Oh?” Larry fell silent. Once more, Shae had shocked him. He’d never heard her talk negatively about her family. Until then, he’d thought everything was perfect.

“I can’t wait to get outta here,” she went on. “These damn projects make my ass itch!”

“I know what you mean. I have an opportunity to break free and I’m gonna take it.”

“You don’t live in the projects,” she reminded.

“I might as well,” he said bitterly, because he lived directly across the street from them. He’d associated with project folk most of his life. All of his friends lived there. He considered himself just as hood and ghetto as the next nigga from the projects.

“What you gonna do, start sellin’ drugs?” The question came out like an accusation. She stopped walking and glared at him, waiting for his response.

“Hell naw, girl! I ain’t with that shit. That’ll fuck a nigga’s life up. Besides, after what happened to my mama–” His voice trailed off and he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. “Hell no,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I’m gettin’ out the clean way. I’m goin’ to college, to the Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I just found out today that I got a full art scholarship.” He looked down at his feet as if embarrassed to share the information.

“That shit is tight, Larry!” she congratulated. “I’m happy for you.” They continued to walk.

“Thanks,” he mumbled graciously. He hadn’t told anyone yet. He’d wanted to share the news with Shae first- that’s why he’d been heading to her place when he’d run into her.

“At least you ain’t wastin’ ya talents. I wish I was smart like you or could draw or somethin’,” she said.

“You got talents, Shae. You just don’t know what they is yet- and it ain’t sex.” he said strongly.

“I know that. I jus’ can’t do nothin’! School bored the hell out of me. That’s why I quit.” Larry didn’t bother asking her to elaborate on why she’d dropped out of high school.

They had walked to the bus stop together every morning since second grade. During their tenth grade year, she’d started acting different, missing days, looking tired, dragging. Suddenly, one day, Shae stopped coming altogether. After about a week, he stopped by her place to find out if something had happened to her. She said she wasn’t going back to school. When he questioned her at the time, she damn near cussed him out. He left it alone then, just as he was going to do now.

“What do you like doin’?” he asked, instead.

She sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. For some reason, I just like curtains. I know it sounds silly, but I picture myself sewin’ all kinds of curtains and drapes. It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not stupid,” he told her sincerely. “It’s a vision and visions ain’t stupid. My aunt say that we should write down our visions and they’ll come into bein’,” he told her. “Whatever you set ya mind to, you can do it. You are too damn pretty to just waste away in a place like the projects.”

They reached the store, which had been converted from an old gas station. Men sat around a rickety card table playing Spades, smoking cigars, drinking Colt 45 and Budweiser. Others stood around watching the game. They all stopped momentarily to stare lustfully at Shae when she approached.

“Hot damn. Tenderoni!” one man yelled. “Will you be my wife?” Everybody laughed and hooted. Larry didn’t find it amusing at all. He ushered Shae into the store.

“Man, that you?” a teenager heading out asked him as he surveyed Shae with appreciation. “Girl, is ya husband married?” he whispered to Shae.

“Man, what the fuck you lookin’ at?” Larry challenged. “Yeah, she my lady.”

The guy threw up his hands. “Ain’t nothin’ man! Jus’ askin’.” He jumped on his bicycle and rode off.

“That nigga on a bike and tryin’ to holla. Why would you want a broke pimp?”

Shae laughed. “Why did you lie to that boy?”

“Just made myself feel good. I wish I could have a lovely girl like you. That’s an impossible dream.” Shae just smiled and walked ahead of him. She cared about Larry more than he knew. But, some things were better left unsaid.

Shae’s ass immediately enraptured the old man behind the counter. He failed to notice three kids stuffing candy bars under their shirts. Larry caught wind of it though and chuckled.

“Yo Pops, EBP?” Larry asked when the man continued to eye Shae up and down. He was smacking his lips like he was getting ready for a tasty treat.

“W-what was that, boy?” The man stopped staring at Shae and turned his attention to Larry.

“I said, EBP?” Larry repeated.

“What’s that, some new kinda drug?” he asked in a suspicious tone. “Ain’t gonna be none of that up in here, son!”

“No, it means, do you have an eye ball problem? I see you sweatin’ my lady. What’s up?” He held up his hands in a questioning gesture.

“Aw boy, all I can do is look.” He waved Larry off good-naturedly. “I’m too damn old to do anythin’ else. No harm intended. You got ya self one fine young lady.” He leaned closer to Larry and lowered his voice. “You got that yet?” he whispered.

“Got what yet?”

“You know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout boy. You ain’t dumb, is ya?”

“Old man, you a border line perv! Do you order women’s panties on-line?” He saw Shae walking toward the front of the store. “Hey Shae, guess what this man just asked me?”

“What?” Shae inquired, placing the items she’d gotten on the counter top.

“You don’t even wanna know!” Larry laughed. “He asked me if I got me some yet?”

“That ain’t his fuckin’ business!” Shae said rather loudly. The kids that had been stealing stood at the front of the store edging toward the door. They giggled loudly. The man paused from ringing up Shae’s items and glared at them.

“Y’all sticky fingered lil bastards, get on outta my sto’!” he yelled. They gave him the finger and ran out. He leaned over the counter, craning his neck to yell behind them. “I knows all ya folks! Don’t get it twisted!” He turned back to Shae as if he hadn’t stopped talking to her at all. “I know it ain’t my business, but you sho look mighty fine. Mighty fine!”

“Stop foamin’ at the mouth and finish ringin’ her up,” Larry told him impatiently. He didn’t care if the man had one foot in the grave; he was flirting with his woman.

“Awright! Awright! You ain’t gotta yell. Shit! Fuckin’ young ass fuckas dese days ain’t got no damn respect,” he mumbled as he threw the stuff into a brown paper bag.

“What’s up, old man? You want me to come cross this damn counter?” Larry challenged. Shae knew that he was joking, but she wasn’t sure if the old man knew.

“Larry, come on and stop messin’ with that man. He might have a heart attack,” she said.

“Only thang gone make me have a heart attack is you, Suga,” the man responded, winking at Shae. “I’ll try that Viagra drug for you. You one fine, sweet young thang. Make a man wish he was fifty years younger.”

“Please! If you was fifty years younger, you’d still be about sixty!” she threw over her shoulder as she grabbed her purchases and sashayed away.

Grandpa had a lot of nerves, trying to hit on her. He’d probably give her worms. Besides, she wasn’t in the market for a sugar granddaddy. She doubted he could afford her on the chump change he made working at the store and his social security check all put together.

“Girl, if you belonged to me, I’d have to lock you up,” Larry said, half joking, half serious. “You get too much attention. I’d be too jealous.”

They watched as a white Chevy Caprice pulled up in front of the store. It caught Shae’s attention because of the spinning rims and the loud music blasting from the amps in the trunk.

“Damn Red!” The guy on the passenger’s side leaned out the window. He had big teeth and resembled the actor that played JJ on Good Times. “What’s yo name?” He ignored Larry who scowled at him.

“Come on, Shae. You don’t need to mix with them kind of people,” Larry said lowly.

“Go on Larry. I’ll catch up with you. I won’t be but a few minutes.” Larry stood there with a defiant look on his face. “Go on, shit! I ain’t no damn baby needin’ to be watched,” she snapped.

With reluctance, Larry headed off. He moved slowly and looked back several times. Finally, he just threw up his hands and started walking at a normal pace. He turned the corner and was out of sight.

“What’s up, Red? What’s yo name?” the