Durty South Grind (13 page)

The ride down I-20 brought back memories of when he and a fat dude named Perry used to hijack furniture trucks. Those used to be some good licks. He'd never forgotten the time he was in
Fulton County Jail looking at TV. The same dude that used to buy the whole tractor-trailer from them was on the tube slamming a jail cell, bidding to become an Atlanta City Commissioner. All he could do was nod with respect, recognizing dude as a member of the biggest gangsters of them all—the government.

Sparkle juggled the mental notes he'd collected on the honeys he'd met at the drug spots. He could be lenient with some of them and others he would need to handle with a longer-handled spoon. There was one jet-black queen named Lisa, who was six-feet-four and scored a whole sack from him for $600; some $120 he pocketed because he didn't have to give it to one of the girls. He'd never dealt with an Amazon and had no problem whatsoever when she wanted him to go to her room. She even smoked some of the stuff with him; the only one he let know that he got high. She gave him a quick five-minute head job. Not bad; not bad at all. He made sure that they traded numbers before he left. He'd definitely be checking her out in the future.

While Sparkle and Peggy were at the LaQuinta, he got a call from Dee. Since he wasn't too fond of anyone knowing his business, he slid to the lobby with the pretense of going to get donuts on display. When he was sure that no one was paying attention, he went to the phone and called girlie. “What's up, sweetie?” he said nonchalantly when she picked up.

There was an anxious tone to her voice. “I need to see you like fifteen minutes ago.”

“All of that is gone already?”

“I ain't got but three dimes left. How far away are you? One of my regular customers called to let me know that he was on the way,” she spat rapidly.

‘Whatcha call a mint, girl?”

“At least five-hundred, for sho.”

“You sound real serious there, girl,” he said, not sure if he believed her.

“Hell yeah, for real,” she responded impatiently.

“Damn,” he said more to himself than to her.

“Whatcha mean damn?” she retorted in a doubtful tone.

“Girl, I'm way out here in Lithonia.”

“So.” Dee's sassiness returned.

“So.” He held the phone away and stared at it.

“Yeah, so.”

“Aah, godayum, I'm on my way to a poker game.”

“Naw you ain't,” she responded with urgency.

“Naw I ain't; why I ain't?”

“Baby, you just got to turn around and get back here,” she said nervously.

He let her stir for about thirty seconds.

“You still there. What's up?” she squeaked, sounding unsure of herself.

“Okay, okay, godayum. I'll be there in about twenty, thirty minutes. Hold your ass 'til I get there.”

“I'll be calling you back in twenty minutes,” she assured him.

He smiled at her sassiness. Hell, he definitely wanted to keep that pussy on the ready. “Okay, girlie, see you in a few.” He hung up before she could reply.

Close to twenty minutes later, they were pulling into the parking lot when the phone started ringing again.

As they headed to the apartment, Peggy said, “Ain't that Buster's BMW over there?” She nudged him in the back.

Sparkle gave her a
damn, how-am-I-supposed-to-know
look.

“Looks like it. Whatever bitches that are up in there is about to get blasted for sure. Oh yeah, big time with big boy,” she added with a smile. She didn't bother to get out of the car. “Hey,
fuck that. I ain't gonna be hanging out here all night while that fool be shining on everybody in eye and earshot just because he be throwing dope around like it's water. Besides, that nigga Percy be getting stupid rough with a bitch; know what I'm saying?”

The way she was acting made Sparkle think back to the days when he used to play cushion for Johnny Bee and Johnny Dobbs when pimping was real art. A nigga got a chance to fuck some shonuff sexy honeys then.
Hmm, that nigga Percy's got this bitch trained. Either that or she thought that he would tell him how she acted.

As soon as the door opened, he could hear Dee's voice squawking obscenities. She bent her head around the doorsill and saw him. “Hey, baby, come on in. It's been a real bitch holding this fat nigga here; you ready?”

Realizing that he was at the point of setting a pattern of respect, he brushed past her without saying a word. She followed him silently to the first bedroom. He closed the door as soon as she stepped in and cuffed her ass, kissing her real hard. She gasped as he slammed her against the door. When he felt her press her pelvis forward, he pulled away and held out his hand. The suddenness of his action had her in a slight daze as she reached into her bra. He stopped her hand and roughly reached in and clutched the money. He gave her a cold stare as he placed the money in his pocket. Before she could respond, he grabbed her crotch and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “I'll count it later. Don't say a thing.”

Dee was more than a little stunned and it showed on her face. However, Sparkle didn't show any reaction to her look and leaned away. “Now what do buddy want?”

She batted her eyes. “He usually starts at a bill.”

He placed a bundle in her hand. “Here you go, baby, and I've got things to do. Holla if he wants some more.”

“How much is…”

“Bitch, I said I got to roll. It's enough.” He planted a kiss on her forehead.

Swallowing nervously, she opened her mouth to speak but the look he gave her froze it shut. When he grabbed the doorknob to leave, she leaned against him to prevent him from going. He looked down at her lust-filled eyes. “You really got to go right now?”

“Yeah, baby, got to get to that poker game… You wanna check out a movie or club tomorrow?”

She batted her long lashes and bowed her head dejectedly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess so; do you or don't you?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Okay, I'll holla atcha then. I got to go.”

Peggy was looking uneasy when he got back in the car, so he didn't say anything to her as she put the car in gear. His phone went off as they were pulling out of the lot. He looked down at the blinking light and for a brief moment, he thought of going to use Dee's phone. He had already set her on course so he looked over to Peggy. “Let's roll.”

An unfamiliar female answered on the third ring. He told her who he was and she let him know that it was JJ who was trying to reach him. He wondered why he hadn't used his own phone. He hunched his shoulders and told the woman to put him on.

“Hey, baby, you on your way over here or what?” JJ asked gruffly.

“Uh-huh, we about to head that way now.”

“Where you at?”

“Leaving Dee's. The bitch called while we was about to head that way from the LaQuinta.”

“Is Peggy still with ya?”

“Yeah, homes, the girl's a real trooper. Some nigga was letting the coke flow like water while we was at Dee's, but she brushed that shit right off like it wasn't about nothing. I think the nigga was named Buster or something like that.”

JJ laughed out loud. “Oh yeah, that nigga be buying up some shit, trying to play the super bigshot and shit. How did Dee do? She come straight with the digits?”

“Hold on a minute.” He counted the money. “All here. I left her another packet.”

There was a long moment of silence, followed by muffled voices before JJ got back on. “Hey, dude, go give Dee another one of those thangs because Big Buster be over there ego tripping on that impression shit. Must be a lot of honeys at Dee's.

“Okay, I'll go do that but who is he anyways?”

“Man, he be down with Junior and 'em at the club.”

“Damn, that spot still kicking? Shit, me and Lah, I mean Rainbow… Damn, that nigga be changing names more than he changes hoes. Anyways we sold 'em niggas a rack of colored TVs back in the day when they was first opening up that joint; seems like a hundred years ago now.”

“Uh-huh, right, well, you wouldn't recognize it now. A big black nigga named Black Don be down with them too. But it ain't like it was back in the day no more. Them young fools be shooting up the joint like it's a recreation or something. Niggas crazy, yo.”

“Okay, let me go give Dee that. Tell JJ and Debra that I'm on my way. Aw man, I meant Percy; damn, I'm talking to you. Oh yeah, don't let Johnny Bee know that I'm on the way. I want to surprise his black ass.”

Sparkle hung up and called Dee to let her know to meet him
in the parking lot. When they rolled around the corner, she was leaning on some nigga's car with an irritated look on her face. Her arms were folded across her chest to ward off some of the chilly air.

Rolling down the window, he handed her the packet, which she slipped into her pants. Then she reached in her bra and gave him a handful of money.

“Damn, that was quick,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“That's almost half. I told ya Big Boy be buying up some shit. Why'd you bring me some right back?”

“Just had a feeling; that's all. I'll see ya later on,” he said, nodding for Peggy to pull off.

Dawn was on the horizon when they hit I-20. They stopped at the Waffle House on Wesley Chapel and picked up five breakfast takeouts of waffles, eggs, corned beef and hash browns. They figured that everybody should be a little hungry by now. Sparkle devoured his on the way.

A half hour later they pulled into a circular driveway lined with luxury cars. He was impressed. They took a few minutes to take a couple of hits. As they were getting out of the car Peggy said, “You know your boy Johnny Bee is over here?”

He acted surprised. “Black ass-pimping Johnny Bee?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded.

“I didn't know you was down with Bee; what's my boy been up to?”

“You know Bee dis and dat,” she said with a dainty wave of manicured fingers.

“Oh yeah, dis and dat; so he still pushing boosting hoes?”

“That amongst other thangs,” she said as she concentrated on pushing the rock into the shooter.

“Other thangs, huh. Oh yeah, you know my nigga Bee aight.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do.” She hiccupped between gasps of sucking coke.

He watched her go silent in contemplation with a dazed look.
She must've been one of Bee's hoes at one time or the other. He always had that lasting effect on a bitch no matter who she ended up with,
he thought. “He still rolling with that slick-ass bitch, Yolanda?”

“For sho, you know dat dem two are gonna take it like that all the way to the dirt together.”

“Uh-huh, from the kindergarten to the grave; that's them aight.” Sparkle laughed as his mind swayed to Beverly Johnson, Atlanta's police chief. She was Yolanda's running buddy way back in the day of their youth, and his girlfriend for life,
hmmphhed.
He wondered what Beverly was doing right then.

“How two people can stay together all these years, arguing and killing each other twenty-four-seven, amazes me.”

“They still killing each other.” He smiled.

“Every day.” She giggled.

He leaned back, admiring her for a moment and thinking about how good home girl looked. She was a real cutie pie when you studied her for a while and had one of the prettiest smiles he had seen in a long time. But he wasn't the type of nigga to shank up on a nigga's ho unless she gave up some sign that's what she wanted. She was off limits, even if he didn't like or trust the nigga; the way he felt about Percy. Honoring principles in the game, he fell back into script. “They do go way back. Shiiiit, way back to when we used to play doctors under the blanket doing the stinky finger thang.”

“Uh-huh, wid little baldheaded dicks and pussies, talking about su-la, su-la.” Peggy laughed, grabbing her side.

They sat in the car lost in time, kicking it until the porch lights started blinking rapidly. A blonde-haired darky in a red dress
stepped out on the porch, causing them to snap back to reality and reach for the door handles. Before they could get out, the girl said, “Ya'll coming in or what. Ya'll can't be sitting out here like ya'll on a stakeout or something. Come on, Peggy, you know good and well that this fool don't be liking that there.”

“Hey, home girl, sorry about that. This here's Debra's brother, Sparkle.”

“Shit, girlfriend, anybody can see Debra all over his face.” She smiled with glittering eyes. Cutting the porch light off, she waved for them to follow her. They walked through the garage of the huge split-level house to a door that took them into a game room. Sparkle's eyes lit up as he took in the beautiful pool table that was the centerpiece of the room, surrounded by a couple of pinball machines, two large TVs in front of a sofa and a coffee table displaying Nintendo and Xbox game systems. On the side of each TV was a foosball machine.

He almost started toward a Ms. Pac-Man machine in the corner, having flashbacks to the days when he used to be chilling at Joe's pool hall on Auburn Avenue, helping his boy Rainbow clock dope and ho money. His mind raced with thoughts of Saturday nights on the strip overflowing with hoes, boosters and drug dealers hawking their wares. Nights that ran into Sunday mornings when down the street, lines of luxury cars and limos expelled dignitaries at the Ebenezer Baptist Church where Martin Luther King Jr. had gotten his life lessons from his pops. Of all the places he'd ever been, this was the most bizarre change of sceneries he'd ever experienced.

They passed through a red oak door into a room aligned with shelves of books. There was a large-screen TV and mirrored paneling all along the wall. Several ceiling fans hung with long drawstrings and strobe lights on the blades.

When the girl saw him admiring the setting, she hit the wall switch. Red and black lights clicked on as the fans began rotating and a Janet Jackson melody began serenading the air. She clicked again and the lights got dimmer and started blinking in rhythm with the beat of the music. He was certainly impressed.