Durty South Grind (26 page)

Stacy sneered before he looked over to see who was invading his solitary. “Hey, Unc, shit be rough right in now. That's for sure.” He smiled for a brief moment before his face turned back into a disappointed sneer.

Sparkle patted him on the knee. “Oh, yeah, it gets like that sometimes—even when you are putting your thang down.”

All Stacy could do was shake his head. “Man, it seem like that shit ain't working for me. I've still been losing like a bitch.”

“That's okay.”

Stacy sat up straight. “How in the hell is that okay, man?”

“Man, you can just chill with the 'tude, son.” He waited for him to sit back before adding, “Good, now, how you been doing? Heard you been making babies by the carload.”

That got a quick smile out of him as his eyes lit up. “Shiiiit, Unc, honeys be blowing up on a nigga before I even get the dick in the pussy.”

Sparkle laughed. “Nigga, you still wild as hell, just like your pops. What's up with old-ass Sam, anyway?”

“Hell, every time I go to the News, he and that bitch Rheta; they be nodding, man,” he said full of sadness. “I sure do wish that he'd quit doing that shit, man.”

Sparkle decided that it was best to change the subject back to happier tones. “How many babies you said you had, nigga?”

His face brightened as he smiled. “Hell, I don't know. Let me see—about three of them crumb snatchers that I know about for sure. A couple of claimers that bitches be trying to throw in a nigga's mack. I know it had to be Kym or Krys who had to bring that shit up.”

Sparkle smiled with a nod. “Krys.”

“Figures, Unc, those two be staying in my shit twenty-four-seven; talking that crazy shit about getting married and shit.”

“I know you don't be paying them no attention with that there.”

“You know that's right. They can talk all the shit they want to, but a player ain't about to be tying no knot with none of these crazy-ass whores. Oh, hell naw.”

“You know how them girls be thinking, partner.”

“Yeah, you right. They something else.” His eyes suddenly started twitching. “Damn, Unc, is it just me, but I could swear we already had this conversation.”

“Man, you know what? I was feeling that same déjà vu my damn self.” He shook his head and pinched his nose as he took on a more serious tone. “Yo, man, you lose a lot?”

Stacy's face immediately balled up in frustration. “About thirty-five hundred or so. Shit, I lost count when that shit started getting stupid.”

“Come on, man. It's time to give you a re-up on this gambling thing.” He nodded toward the door; it was time to roll. A half-hour
or so later they were leaving a hotel room with Stacy's refresher course, from false shuffles and deck switching to practicing in the mirror until he couldn't even see what he was doing.

Stacy, who had been sitting on the bed stunned as he watched Sparkle work his magic, finally spoke as they were heading down the balcony. “Yeah, I'll get it. How long you been knowing all this stuff?” The astonished look on his face was almost comical.

Sparkle snorted a short laugh and rolled his eyes. “Man, how you think your aunt and your grandmother been beating niggas for all these years?”

Stacy's shoulders shot up like they were shot out of cannon. He spun around with his fist pressed against his mouth as he said wide-eyed, “Naw, man, naw, you mean to tell me that Grandma be cheating, too?”

Sparkle gave him the “duh” look. “Shit, dude, she's the one that showed me how to run up the deck, false cut and steal cards way back when I was in elementary school. And then this nigga named Googie polished me up when I was in the joint.”

Stacy placed his hand over his face and sighed heavily. “Well, I'll be damned.”

A couple of hours and several grands' worth of winnings later, they were heading to Debra's car. “Damn, Unc, you really worked them in there,” Stacy said. “I knew what you was doing and I still didn't see what you did. I have the worst luck in the world whenever I come over here fucking with that fat-ass Al.”

Sparkle ran a hand over his head. “Nephew, that's the same way it'll be for you if you get serious about mastering the things I taught you. It gets real easy once you get those things down pat. I bet you didn't even notice that redbone in the blue dress. She was palming cards all night long.”

Stacy frowned. “What the hell? I'm gonna kick that bitch's ass for cheating on me.” He started back toward the house before
Sparkle stopped him with a very serious tone. “No, no, no, baby boy, lesson number two.” He extended his finger to poke him the chest to drive in the point. “Never ever—and I do mean never ever—expose a cheat.”

Stacy's frown remained, for he was definitely mystified now. “What the fuck you mean, man? I been playing fair with these bastards the whole time. To hell with that, player. I've lost big bucks fucking with these dogs.”

Sparkle gripped his shoulder and said in a soothing tone, “Baby boy, baby boy, whew, slow down, man. Don't be sweating that chump change.”

Stacy reared back. “Chump change, chump change,” he interrupted.

“Chump change,” Sparkle also interrupted. “By the time you get all this stuff down, as well as the mannerisms that go with them, they'll be the frustrated ones. I guarantee it. Just trust your old unc on this one here. You saw how fucked up Al got. I bet you ain't never seen your auntie or grandma get mad the few times you've seen them lose.”

Stacy put his hand over his mouth and mumbled, “Come to think of it, I sho ain't.”

“You ever thought about why they be so cool regardless?”

Stacy stared at the ground before answering, “No, no, I haven't. It be so rare. Nope, I sho haven't,” as he concentrated on the last statement.

“That's because they win eighty percent of the time; the other twenty percent, it just be one of those bad nights. We all have them but the point is that you never reveal a cheater 'cause that lets other players realize that you recognize the cheat. That ain't good 'cause if you can recognize the cheat, it's possible that you can be cheating, too.”

He quickly nodded in agreement. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

Sparkle reassured him. “Hey, nephew JJ don't even know that Debra be cheating, man. Hell, he don't even know that I do, too, and he was my gambling partner in the joint. That's how secretive you got to be with this shit 'cause a nigga or a bitch will let that knowledge slip out without even realizing they've done so. Trust me on that one there, too. I've seen it happen too much to other niggas who trusted their folk.”

Sparkle pinched his nose, examining Stacy's reaction to make sure he'd caught on. When he nodded to show that he had he continued. “Man, I saw Al do a few things during the game. All I did was fold, that is unless I lucked up and had a hand that I could battle him with. That shit happens; catch a nigga short sometimes, too—part of the game. What I'm saying, little soldier, is to let folk get away with their thing and they be thinking that you ain't hip. And then they don't even consider you be doing your thang on their asses. Why? Because they be concentrating on doing their thing and just chalk you up to being lucky, which is what you want them to be thinking anyway.”

“Okay, ya'll two, enough of that yap-yap shit! I got to get home for those horrible brats of mine, because Ebony will have Mike burning up bologna and shit with her fast ass!” Debra shouted as she fished in her pocketbook for her car keys.

Stacy headed for his Caddy and sped off ahead of Debra, who immediately flooded Sparkle's ear with this and that about what he should and shouldn't be doing. Whew.

It was around noon the next day when Sparkle was stirred awake again by good smells coming out of the kitchen. This time he was lying on the couch instead of in one of the kids' beds. He
opened his eyes and saw JJ doing his thang again at the stove. He lifted his head and immediately felt cramps crinkling along his neck from lying on the arm of the chair all night. The aroma of fish sticks, French fries and buttered biscuits helped to ease some of the discomfort, as he sat up and rubbed the crust out of his eyes and stretched.

JJ looked back at him and smiled. “I thought the smell would get yo ass a-stirring. Go ahead, wash up your mug and shit, this stuff will be ready in a minute.”

A couple of minutes later, when Sparkle sat down at the table, JJ said, “Now don't be expecting this here that often, dude. I'm only doing it because you'll be getting used to these bricks again.”

Sparkle nodded with a quick smile. “Thanks, bro, you know that I really appreciate it.”

JJ waited until they were nearly finished eating to say, “By the way, your boy, Duke, and Johnny Dobbs called while you was over there snoring. Said to get you to call them when you got yourself straight.”

Sparkle grimaced slightly before he nodded. “You get their phone numbers?”

“I left a note on the coffee table.”

Sparkle eyed the table and gave him a quick nod. “Thanks again, dude. I'll holler at them niggas sometime today. They ain't going nowhere. Shit, I've got to go buy myself some clothes; can't keep wearing your stuff.”

“Yea, especially since yo ass done hit up twice over here,” he said with a good-natured smirk. “Oh, yeah, before I forget, Johnny said something about he had a thang set up for the rack-em thang ya'll used to work.”

Sparkle snorted. “Rack-em thang, huh?”

“Yeah, the rack-em thang,” JJ repeated.

Sparkle nodded with a smile. “That's my boy, aight, figuring that I want to get into stuff right off the bat. If he call back while I'm gone, tell him I said that we can do whatever; just like old times after I get myself straight.”

He finished his meal and went into the bathroom to get himself ready to leave.

A couple of hours later he was sitting on the bench in Five Points waiting for the train. He had spent an hour or so buying enough gear to last at least a week. He was rifling through the bags admiring his purchase when he heard Violet's presence. He looked up from the bags into her smiling face. She had on the same boosting gear from the other day. “Damn, shawtie, you stay on the grind, don'tcha?”

Her eyes lit up as she looked down at the bags between his legs. He could almost feel the warmth glowing from hers as she looked back up at him and said, “Mmm, looks like you've got the same taste I figured you for.”

He rested his elbow on his thigh before he leaned back to look her up and down. As if she was reading his mind, she raised her head to check out the surroundings before she pulled one of the pleats in the dress back to show him a cluster of fine clothes packed the same way they were the other day. To his surprise most of the stuff was of the same brand and type that he had just bought. His mind immediately shot back to the talk that he'd had with “B.”

She batted her eyes and gave him the kind of smile that women gave dudes they were really into—at least that's what he took it for. Then she said seriously, “Now tell me that you got some of
that good shit on you. I'm sure there's some things in this stuff that'll hit you just like you like it.”

He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and took a deep breath as he tried to stare her down.
Was she trying to throw him a curb here or what?

She spread her arms. “What's up, playa? Cat's got your tongue or something?”

“Or something,” he mumbled.

She leaned toward him, undaunted by his stare. “What's up, man? Do my breath stink or something?” She aahed on her hand and sniffed. “You smell some stale pussy, ass…I mean what the fuck, man.” She reached between her legs and sniffed at her fingers.

He cocked his head to the side studying her for a few seconds before he shook it. “Girl, you crazy; you know that?”

“Well, that's sho good to know,” she spat and sat back on the bench with her arms folded over her fake belly. She tried but she couldn't hide the smile creeping to the edge of her mouth.