Durty South Grind (5 page)

He smiled at the dark-skinned cutie pie dressed in a jean suit bedazzled with rhinestones. She was looking as sweet and innocent
as ever. He spread his arms wide apart. “Come here, girl; let your old unc get a hug.” Without a moment's hesitation she embraced him and her daughter in a loving squeeze. Holding Brittany in his arms, he allowed the crew to steer him to the car. Janet, his oldest sister, was at the steering wheel.

Debra leaned out of the window and yelled, “Aight, skinny-ass nigga, come give me a hug, too.”

He gently put the squirming Brittany down and leaned on the car window. “Damn, girl, you could at least get out of the car.”

He put his hand on the handle, but Janet pushed open the driver's door and smiled. “Get out, my ass; you better get your narrow butt in the car. I ain't got time to be out here all day.”

He harrumphed and reached in the window and gave Debra a big hug.
Always rushing to wait, that's Janet.
He loved her death, even if she was bossy as all out. He stared at Debra as they separated. She was smiling and as always he was stunned by her beauty. If you would split the years between Ciara and Chante Moore, you'd come up with Debra. She blew him a kiss and he could see in her eyes that she was blitzed to the gill. Without a word she handed him an El Producto filled with reefer and already lit.

Before he could get two good tokes, Janet hollered over her shoulder, “Godayum, Debra. Couldn't ya'll at least wait 'til we ain't around the children.”

Debra pushed Sparkle's face and smiled. “Uh-huh, yeah, Mr. Sparkle man, you can't wait.”

He looked at her and put his hand over his youth to stifle the laugh erupting from his stomach and stuttered, “What, I can't. Aw, hell okay.” He frowned at the back of Janet's head.

“Thank you, godlee,” Janet harrumphed and added, “And I ain't got to turn around to know you sneering at me, bony-ass man, so you better come around here and give me a hug or something.”

He pulled back from Debra's tongue-poking-out-face, crossed the front and bowed his head toward her. When she turned her face sideways to offer him her cheek with her arms raised, he jerked the door open. A look of shock crossed her face as she lost her balance. He scooped her out the car and embraced her in a bear hug.

She immediately started cursing, “You crazy muthafucka.”

Before she could get it all out he swung her out of the car and started swirling her in a circle. He could keep it up for only a few spins because she had gotten big as hell. He staggered to a stop before they both hit the pavement. He released her and barely got out of the way of a wild left hook before he sat her against the car. She made a feint and started chasing him, but realized it was useless after only a couple of seconds. She slid back into the car huffing and puffing. All the kids were rolling with laughter.

He slid into the backseat and Debra blew him a shotgun up his nose. He pressed one nostril with his index finger and inhaled deeply until he started to gag.

She reached across his shoulder and started pounding on his back, until his face was mashing into the back of the seat. Janet popped him upside the head. “Ah-ha, that's whatcha get. I done told ya'll not to do that stuff around the kids anyway.”

He coughed. “See there, BooBoo, I told ya to wait.” He backhanded the spittle from his mouth and chin. Debra sucked another good toke and rolled her eyes at Janet and said, “Aw godayum, let's get outta here.” Reluctantly she put the blunt out.

“About time.” Janet pouted.

“I said okay, Grandma,” Debra spat, as she suddenly pressed her back into the seat.

“Grandma, my ass. All these kids around; damn girl,” Janet growled as she spun angrily around.

“Hey, I said okay. I put it out, so you can stop yo bitching,” Debra said as she crossed her legs and arms.

Janet reached back and slapped Sparkle upside the head. “And as for you, fly-ass nigga, you ain't been out but a hot second. Can't you chill on that? Man, we in downtown Atlanta. My God!”

He held up his hands in surrender, reached over Debra and yanked a giggling Brittany onto his lap. “Let's roll then, ya'll.”

Brittany wiggled and giggled all the way to the Chandler East apartments where the rest of the family waited to welcome him home.

He admired the skyline as they rolled down I-20 and passed some of his old haunts in Atlanta and Decatur.

Thirty minutes later they piled out of the car. His nephew, Stacy, and niece, Kym, tackled him to the ground. He looked up the sidewalk; these were the same apartments where he used to stay with the twin sisters from Washington, Georgia.

He smiled, recalling the sweet honeys; especially how down they had been with their hustles. He silently wondered how they were doing, since he hadn't heard anything about them for several years. He made a mental note to track down their whereabouts. Those surely had been some good times, getting high and getting plenty of digits with his boy, Rainbow. One of the twins had ended up being one of his fastest steppers in his ever-revolving stable.

Sparkle got up off the ground and then he and Stacy had a hugging and shoving match up the walk to Debra's apartment. Stacy was draped in a number 38 Georgia Tech football jersey and wore denims bunched around his gold-trimmed Nikes. He was the spitting image of his daddy, Sam, a top player who drove the honeys wild with his squinty-eyed smile and Mack man mentality.

There was a five-player Tonk game in progress when they
entered the apartment. Sparkle's initial instincts were to join in the game. He fought off those urges to complete the greeting and to chow down on some fried chicken, fish, spareribs and corn-bread; all finger-licking good. He washed down the food with ice-cold Heinekens. Sparkle, Debra and Stacy disappeared into the kids' room. They smoked a couple of blunts before everybody started leaving. It was indeed a blessing to be home.

“I hear that that nigga Sparkle is about to hit the bricks,” a silhouetted figure said out of a haze of blue smoke from the shadows.

“Uh-huh, he should be hitting the city in a little while, if he ain't already here,” the other figure in the fedora-cocked aceydeucy responded.

Silhouette cleared his throat. “How long you think it'll take afore he hooks up with his boys?”

“Ya can't really tell. He may chill for a day or two. Then again maybe even a week or so; hell, your guess is as good as mine.”

Silhouette got up from behind the desk and started pacing the floor; the hard face was deep in concentration.

Fedora frowned suspiciously before reaching across the table to pluck the smoking blunt out of the ashtray. He took a few tokes, then hacked and coughed from the acrid scratching caused by the harsh smoke. “Well, how ya wanna play it?” He coughed and sniffled. “Whatcha wanna do; wait 'til they all get together?” He coughed and sniffled again. “It don't make me no difference, know what I'm sayin'?”

Silhouette squinted nervously and sat back down, wondering how far dude could really be trusted. He plucked the blunt from his dangling fingers and took some tokes. “Let's sit back and see what happens. He may get away from the game altogether and go straight.”

Fedora leaned back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. “You really think that he's gonna do that, huh?”

Silhouette gave up a snorted laugh and spat, “Hell naw, to tell you the truth, I'm sorta hoping he does. It'll be a lot easier taking care of the other two instead of all three of them at the same time. From what I've heard, these niggas ain't nothing to be playing with.”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you probably right about that there. Hell, they ain't nothing to be playing with. Ain't no need for us to even pretend they are.” Fedora shifted in his seat, obviously getting slightly uncomfortable.

Silhouette shifted in the shadows as well. “Yeah, you right, because if something happens to the other two, he's definitely going to get involved.”

“Okay, so what we do is wait 'til they get together.” Fedora took a deep breath and raised the Glock from the table and aimed it out the window. “Pow, pow, pow, yeah, we wait. And be ready for whatever
whenever.
”

“Yeah, and be ready,” Silhouette grumbled. He took another deep toke before he got up to leave the room.

Fedora watched him leave and then pulled the empty chamber out of the gun, and replaced it with a loaded one.
Damn, you can't really trusty anybody in this damn city, on the real.

After the last of the family had left, Debra and JJ went into the bedroom and left Sparkle to chill on the couch in the living room. The excitement of being released and the following activities had him spent and snoring in no time.

It seemed like he had just closed his eyes when he felt somebody
shaking his shoulder. He stirred groggily, yawning and knuckling his eyes before was able to focus on whoever had awakened him. “Yeah, what's up, nigga…” JJ placed a firm hand over his mouth and
sshed
him. Sparkle glared at him angrily and mumbled, “Whadda fuck, man?”

“Come on, dude, keep your voice down,” JJ whispered with his face twisted. He looked down the hall to the bedroom.

Sparkle pushed JJ's hand from his mouth. He waved his head back and forth, indicating that he understood and was cooperating.

JJ grimaced at his aggressive motion and backed away slowly to the closet.

A slightly woozy Sparkle sat up on the couch and eyed him curiously.
Man what's wrong with this here fool, waking a nigga up like that?

JJ, who didn't notice the aggravated look on Sparkle's face, kept peeking back and forth between the hallway and the closet. When Sparkle started to get up and ask him what all the tripping was about, JJ waved him back down. He opened the closet door and then reached down to the floor and up to the shelf.

When he turned around, he had a shoebox pressed to his stomach. He started tiptoeing toward the dining room table, then paused to look down the hall again.

Whaddafuck's up with this nigga? Shiiit, the way he acting is starting to make me all nervous and shit.
He looked at the grandfather clock in the corner and saw that it was one o'clock. He yawned, realizing that he was bone tired.

JJ got to his full six feet and retied the sash of his robe. His bald head was shining, even in the dimness. He was one quick-witted dude, but had the annoying habit of overflowing his sentences with street slang; probably to portray the image of always being hyper hip. But the jittery way he was acting now wasn't hip at all.

Sparkle frowned as he watched him take out some baggies. One contained a lot of blocked cubes that reminded him of macadamia nuts. In the others were some smaller bags and some glass tubes. JJ didn't mutter a word as he took one of the cubes and placed it in the glass tube and lit up. He proceeded to suck the smoke greedily through the tube until all of the fumes stopped. Then he held his breath for what seemed like at least thirty seconds. When he exhaled, extremely slowly, Sparkle could see the euphoria spread across his face.

He wiped away some beads of sweat that had instantly appeared on his forehead. “Ooo-wee, that be some bomb shit there, dog, some real bomb shit.” He wheezed as he sat back in the chair. “Go ahead, dog; do one of them muthas. Take your time though because that's some potent shit, for real.”

Sparkle was curious and got off the couch to join him at the table. JJ
sshhed
him, as if he'd never caught the message. Sparkle sat up, getting a grip on his pissed-offness, feeling like JJ was overdoing it with that
sshhing
bullshit, but his curiosity kept him quiet.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Sparkle pulled out a chair and sat down. With a still sleepy voice, he asked, “Yeah, man, what the fuck is up?” As he eyed him intently, it dawned on him that the nuts reminded him of free-basing coke.

The unmistakable aroma of cocaine whiffed through the air. He pinched his nose and rubbed his neck and chin.

“Wave the lighter back and forth over the rock and when it starts to melt, start sucking up the smoke.” JJ motioned for Sparkle to try as he continued to look toward the bedroom.

The rock started sizzling immediately and Sparkle sucked in the smoke. Exhaling slowly he soon felt that old familiar rush of cocaine bliss erupt into his brain. From seemingly far away, he
heard JJ's voice, but the coke had him already zooming to Scottieville. The buzz was simply a buzz.

After a few moments he was able to decipher what he was saying. “Be sure you hold the smoke for a while before you exhale.” Hell, he'd already done that; dude was tripping or was it him? JJ paused and leaned back in the chair with his forearms folded across his knee. “Now pinch ya nose. Uh-huh, that's the way. Now slowly let the smoke out.”

Sparkle nodded and squeezed one eye open to see him still looking down the hall.
This nigga's tripping, yo; ain't even watching me. Oh, well…
The exhilarating effect of the coke had hit immediately with a rush; it felt like he was getting a nut.