Durty South Grind (30 page)

She was soon caught up reliving memories as she cruised past some of her old stomping grounds. The corner store where she used to lean against the old red oil pump with her sidekick Yolanda watching the old heads of the neighborhood schooling young lookers on and trash-talking to her three amigos in the fine art of playing checkers. Now it was a rundown, rusty, old building run by a Vietnamese family. She found herself wondering about the former owner, sweet old Mr. Mack.

She cruised by the old huckleberry tree when it dawned on her that her old kindergarten used to be there. Now it was an empty lot. Oh, how the times had changed. She found herself really longing for those days.

The nostalgia gave her the impulse to go by Mrs. Dobbs' house, Johnny's mother. He was the oldest of the three. Once she stepped on the porch of the old yellow house, she started getting warm thoughts of all the evenings she'd spent after school swinging on the porch, waiting for Mrs. Dobbs, her favorite baby sitter, to come home. She loved the hours they had spent sweet-talking all the potted plants hanging on ropes from the roof. They'd even sing to them to help make them grow and stay beautiful.

The door was suddenly snatched open by Johnny aka Rainbow. He had always been the instigator and pretty boy of the crew. Even though she had recently seen him, she was still somewhat taken aback since she hadn't expected to be there.

Clearing her throat, she blinked several times before she was able to gather herself to speak. “Hello there, Johnny. I really didn't expect to see you here. Is your mother here?”

It took him a moment or two to get over the initial shock of
seeing the chief of police at his mother's door. Naturally his first thoughts were those of suspicion, followed by tension; especially since he had talked to her the other day. He stood at the door silently, wondering what she wanted.

He finally spoke up, “How ya doing, Bevy? The last person I expected was you so soon,” addressing her with the pet name they had given her years ago.

She scrunched up her face and blinked several times. “Trying to look out for our lovely city.”

He returned the scrunch and blink as he responded in a low voice, “Well, I guess that takes up a lot or most of your time, huh?”

He glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was within ear-shot. Massaging the week-old stubble on his chin, he said, “Why is it that you haven't been to see my moms in almost two years? You too ashamed to be seen in your old neighborhood since you done become the top cop?”

She despised his attitude and responded in kind, “Nigga, please, I stop by here to see Mama Dobbs at least once or twice a month. We just don't report it to your ass.” She placed a hand on her hip wondering what suddenly had brought about this snappy attitude of his. She stared at him with an impish grin and was a little bit surprised that she was blushing. He always did have that effect on her. She was stuck between wanting to smack him upside the head with whatever she could get her hands on and hugging him.

She certainly didn't have to remind him that they were on the opposite sides of the law. She just couldn't hang around the hood like she used to.

The only way she could continually look out for them was to stay away; she could show her appreciation for all the years they'd looked out for her.

After airing out those thoughts, Beverly looked at him sweetly
and asked, “Do I really have to stand in the door and wonder why you haven't invited me in? Or do I have to push your ass out of my way and holla at my mama?” She didn't even wait for a response and barged right past him.

Johnny cocked his head to the side, as he was forced to lean against the door to let her pass. Absorbing the impact of her sharp elbow, he rolled his eyes, smacked himself upside the head and growled at her departing figure, “Still a bully, huh, Miss Thang?”

She whirled around in the middle of the room and sat down sassily on the brown leather couch. All he could do was shake his head and smile as he closed the door and followed her to the couch. He sat down lazily beside her and propped his Gucci-clad feet on the coffee table adorned with delicate figurines.

Before he could even get off a satisfying aah, she reached over and pushed his feet off of the table, catching him in the process of folding his hands behind his head. Caught completely by surprise, he sprung up awkwardly and gritted. “Girl, what the fu—?”

She didn't give him the chance to finish before she was frowning all up in his face, “Man, respect your mama's valuables, dang.”

Raising his eyebrows menacingly, he jerked his head back and teased, “Dang.” He whistled to stifle a laugh and repeated, “Dang,” shaking his head.

“That's right, dang,” she said and pushed his shoulder playfully. “Ugh, you make me so sick.”

He straightened up and did a fake shiver. “Well, I'll be damned. The big tough cop's still got a little Bevy left in her after all.”

“Aw, shut the hell up,” she said as she leaned toward him and changed to a more serious tone. “I wasn't planning on seeing you here. I didn't even think about dropping by to see Mama until I got caught up in a traffic jam at the East Lake exit.” She sat back
and took a deep breath before she continued, “Baby boy, uh Rainbow, uh Lah, or whoever you are calling yourself these days, your business has found its way to my office which ain't good at all, player.”

“What…” he started to say something but the look on her face stopped him. She knew him too well to even attempt to deny anything to her. She wouldn't turn on him unless her back was totally against the wall. Hell, he really doubted that she'd do it even then; they went too far back to even consider it. He leaned forward to place his hands on his knees and stared straight ahead. In his peripheral vision, he saw that she had begun to run her tongue across her lips.
Aw aw, that there was one of those looks she used to have when she was deciding whether to let him copy off of her test when they were in high school. The end result was that he'd usually have to do her a lot of favors in return.

She noticed that look about him as the very same thought ran through her mind. Knowing him so well, she smiled shyly and took a deep breath. “Now you know that I'd do just about anything I could to keep your ass out of jail—hell, to keep all of ya'll out of jail.”

He put a hand on her knee and started to speak before she put her hand on top of his and added, “Hold on, wait a minute. Let me finish. But ain't much I could even do if some of Atlanta's or Decatur's finest jam ya'll on something first.”

The sincerity in her eyes had him feeling bad about what he and Sparkle were about to do. With his mind suddenly turned to Sparkle, he looked down at his watch wondering why his boy hadn't called him yet. He knew them bitches wouldn't dare disrespect that he'd told them to wake him in time to meet him downtown.

On second thought, he silently prayed that he wouldn't pick now to contact him, not with Beverly breathing fire down his neck.
Damn, as if he had felt it coming, his cell started ringing on the coffee table. He cocked a wary eye in her direction only to see that her eyes were arched at him as well. Nonchalantly, he reached over to pick it up to check the number. And as he dreaded, it was Debra's number; Sparkle was checking up on his whereabouts. He immediately thought,
Damn, this nigga's got some bad timing,
and stood up.

“Excuse me for a second, Bevy. I've got to make this here return call and I'm not quite sure you'd appreciate my talking business right in your face. You feel me?” His face was wrapped in a phony smile as he headed for the kitchen. Boy, was he ever grateful that she had enough respect for him that she didn't say anything.

Johnny waited until he crossed the sill to the kitchen before he spoke into the phone, “Yeah, my nigga, you ready? Good, good, good. Hey, do you have a dark blue suit jacket? Well, see if you can get one from that nigga and then meet me at the entrance to Underground at quarter to twelve. You with that?” He held the phone pressed to his thigh and looked around the corner to see what she was doing. She was busy pushing stuff around in her purse.

He shook his head and mouthed lightly, “Women,” and put the phone back up to his mouth and said, “Ya feeling them damn butterflies, ain'tcha? Hell, me too. Shit, it's been a minute since we've had the chance to do this together and, shit, I'm hoping that you still got it, dog… Okayeeee, you right. I wouldn't even be doing this if I didn't really think you still had it, so there, feel better, damn…. Man, big boy and me split up at the Wendy's around eight o'clock. Yeah, the one on East Lake. Why you ask? Yeah, okay anyway, he said something about going to pick up a package down there in Florida. Uh-huh, I gave him both of our cell numbers; said he'd holla when he hit land again. Come on,
man, of course I got his, too. You'll get it when we hook up. Bet, in a few then…Hey and cherish the butterflies. Right, I'm out.”

When he came back out of the kitchen, she was patting the sofa next to her. He glanced at the old grandfather clock on the far wall beside the television and prayed that she would leave soon.

Beverly sighed deeply and with the same sincere look that she had earlier before they were interrupted by the phone call, she said, “Johnny, my army of soldiers have no idea that I love you like a brother—hell, more than a brother—but baby, the best that I can do is to let ya'll know when ya'll activities are getting some serious airtime. So please be careful and check and then recheck yourself.”

Man, how can I get rid of her without that super cop mind of hers going haywire,
he thought.

“Well, it's evident that your mama ain't home yet or we'd have heard her by now.”

He smiled gratefully when she got up and patted him on the shoulder. He immediately rose to his feet and escorted her to the door, kissing her lightly on the cheek as she departed.

He closed the door and slipped to the curtain to peek out of the crack as she pulled into the street and sped away. Once the car had disappeared around the corner several blocks away, he slipped out of the door and jogged across the street to his car and headed downtown. The butterflies had started.

S
tacy felt like he had just conquered the world after finally getting to use the things his uncle had taught him correctly; especially after all those times he'd been cleaned out at Al's poker games.

While he was busy separating the fives, tens and twenties, one of Al's girls stuck her head in the door and said, “Hey, Stacy, your uncle's on the phone.” She paused to run her tongue over her juicy red lips. “He says that he got to holla atcha like right now.”

She held her head slightly down and forward with her hands on her hips as she waited for him to respond.

He acknowledged her with a nod, ran his eyes up and down her body, pausing at the puffy “V” between her flush thighs as his smile rose to reach his eyes. She shifted her weight to the other leg, being visibly moved by his intense stare. He made a mental note to get at her whenever the opportunity presented itself. Now wasn't the time, nor was this the place.

He pushed back from the table watching Al for a reaction. After all, he did have to respect the man's house. When a stone-faced Al nodded his consent, he slowly stood up and followed shortie out of the room. She led him into the living room, where he was directed to the phone laying on the sculpture of a naked black seductress. She excused herself and went to the bar and started mixing a drink.

He eyed the sway of her hips in some glittering crushed velvet red pants, knowing that she was putting a little more effort into it for his benefit. He quickly checked himself, lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Yeah, unc, what's up? Yeah, I'm doing pretty good. Just stuck their asses for the biggest pot of the night.”

He sat down and crossed his legs as he eyed her while listening to Sparkle's reply. She narrowed her eyes and ran her tongue seductively around the rim of the glass. He squinted, wondering what her game was. Tearing his thoughts away from her, he listened intently to what Sparkle had to say and then replied casually, “Okay, I'll get out of here in a half hour or so… Okay, that'll work; I'll see you in a few then.”

After hanging up, he headed back to the game, with the intent to play a few more hands before going on to Atlanta to meet his uncle. But honey had other plans. She waited until he got almost to the door before she hit a switch on the wall that caused the lights to start blinking rapidly. He froze, as he was about to turn the knob. Licking his lips, he slowly turned around to face her.

She was standing by the bar with two drinks in her hands motioning for him to join her. He stood at the door staring at her, waiting for her to make her move all the way. There was no way that he was going to play the aggressor in another man's house, especially when he didn't really know her full intentions. She seemed to be moving in slow motion as she swayed seductively across the floor.

Damn, those blinking lights be having a nigga wanting to bang honey girl like oowee,
he thought just before it dawned on him that he didn't even know girlie's name.

She must have read his mind as she flicked her curly red-tinted bangs away from her pit black eyes with a dainty flip of her head. Her nose flared like a panther on the prowl. She licked her gorgeous
lips and handed him one of the drinks. “Baby boy, my name is Mona.”

When she didn't immediately follow up on her introduction, he smiled at her. “And?” He was really curious about her intentions for sure now.

“And I'd like to get to know you better,” she responded while she sipped on her drink.

Stacy took a sip of his own drink and stared directly into her eyes. She batted her eyelashes a couple of times before she said, “Well.”