Life Without Hope (10 page)

accept this car plus me selling her old piece of junk. She thought

this car cost a lot of money. Hell, I hacked off that much money

in a strip club, besides, I could make it back in an hour hustling.

Now, as I looked at her, I was filled with envy, lust and some more

shit. I couldn’t believe she gave me that lame ass excuse, talking

‘
bout she got a man. Fuck her! I was a playa. I needed a bitch

about as bad as a fish needed a raincoat. I was forced to admit, that

was some gangsta shit she pulled at the mall, rescuing me from the

police and her sex was sweet and pure like it was the first time I

ever made love to a woman. Afterward, I had to smoke a cigarette

and watched her as she slept, thinking how God knew what he

was doing when he created Woman.

She pulled up at the hotel. Sadly, it kind of disturbed me. I

knew it was the end of the road for us but it was all-good. I knew

that I was going to take over this town, little by little, this was

what we hustlers called fertile land. A nice-sized city with plenty

of money. My plan was to make a couple million, build a small

bankroll and get out of the game, so I thought.

I reached into my pocket and put on my two chunky

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bracelets, and the fat iced-out chain I took from the police back

there at the hotel. As I pulled out my bankroll, I could see Hope

watching me through the corner of her eye. So I stunted for her

doing what playas do. Money, hoes and clothes is all a brotha

knows. Then I gave her my best Mack pose, leaning against the car

door, I took of my Kangol and caressed the waves on my head like

I was blessing myself. I just transformed right before her eyes.

“
Here.” I passed her two crispy one hundred dollar bills. “Go

get me a hotel room, the biggest room they got with a view of the

pool,” I said just like I intended, a command, showing no respect

for her. Hope sucked her tongue as she turned and glowered at

me. If looks could kill, her fulgurant eyes would have done a drive

by. She opened her mouth to speak and suddenly thought better

of it. She got out and slammed the car door. I watched her as she

walked away angry. I was sure she was unconscious of the sensu-

ous sway of her hips. Her struts forceful like she could take out

fr ustration on the concrete. I’ve always wondered what their

mommas gave them. Moments later she returned. I could not help

admiring her walk.

“
Here,” she said passing me the keys along with a slip of paper.

Just then a car drove by, music bumping. It was a sleek, sky blue

Lexus SC430, full of shouting females. The car made a U-turn in

the middle of the street. There was always something about col-

lege females, they’re always hyperactive, like where is the party at.

I watched Hope as she watched the car. “No, this can’t be hap-

pening to me,” she mumbled. The car pulled in right next to us.

Females were five deep. They were loud and excited to see Hope.

I stood outside to get an eyeful of diamonds glistening. I felt like

a pimp on a hoe farm. All eyes on me.

“
No it isn’t! Not the good sister Hope. On the smoooove

creeeep,” the driver droned. The rest of the girls cracked up in

giddy laughter. Hope smiled painfully like she was getting a tooth

pulled. The driver was mixed with something. If I had to guess, I

would say Spanish. Her complexion was amber, like she was kissed

by the sun. Her deep green chatoyant eyes were stunning, they

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could hypnotize a man. She had me spellbound. She had long

silky black hair that cascaded down to the middle of her back, like

she had just brushed it and let it flow. She stepped out of the car

wearing a white halter top and tight-fitting blue jeans. Her walk

was provocative, like the purest essence of a woman’s femininity.

The pussy print between her legs was balled up like a fat fist on

both sides. Damn she was wearing them jeans. I bit down on my

knuckle and Hope rolled her eyes at me. The driver never took her

eyes off of me. Not even one second. It felt as if I were being

inspected.

“
Trina, this is L.”

“
Heeeey L, with your fine self,” cooed a girl in the car.

I tried my damnest not to blush and then they all joined in

harmously, “Hi, L.” I was cheesing like a brotha posing for a

toothpaste commercial. Then someone yelled, “look at those cute

dimples.” The whole time Trina was checking me out, my jewelry

and my clothes. There was something uncanny about her. Like she

knew me from somewhere.

“
Damn, ain’t you and Marcus still together?” Trina asked,

slinging the words in Hope’s face.

“
I’m on my way to his house,” Hope retorted, with her lips

twisted to the side accompanied by a tilted neck. I could tell there

was friction in the air. Women have a strange way of communi-

cating. They use body language like chickens that used to have

arms.

“
Trina is my Sorority Sister,” Hope said to me. As if on cue the

girls in the car made a noise, I guess it had something to do with

their sorority. They all erupted in jovial laughter.

“
She’s from the Bronx.”

“
Wuz up Shouty?” I said, giving her a nod like I hardly

noticed she was there. One of the girls said, “Ask him if he has any

friends fine like him.” They all laughed, everybody except Hope

and Trina. I watched as they talked in generic chatter while the

sun beat down on us. I felt a trickle of perspiration cascade down

my spine as I looked at all of the beautiful sistas. It was like I was

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in paradise.

“
What room are you staying in?” Trina asked, completely

catching me off guard.

“
Who, me?” Dumbfounded. I looked at the key in my hand

and answered “A-4.”

“
We’re going to get something to eat, you want to join us?”

Trina asked like it was a challenge. The whole time she just looked

at me.

“
No, I was dropping L off. I gave him a ride from Sarasota yes-

terday. We had car trouble and just made it into town.” I listened

as Hope made excuses that sounded like lies.

Trina frowned at her, and then asked me, “What brings you to

Tallahassee, L?” I thought I detected a trace of an accent.

“
I’m here on business.”

“
What kind of business?” she asked placing her hands on her

round hips. I noticed somehow she had inched up closer, the wind

blew her hair. A car passed, some brothas hollered at the girls and

the girls hollered back. I smiled like a sly fox, the way men do

when they’re lying to a woman and they both know it.

“
I’m in the import and export business,” I said turning the

gold bracelet on my wrist. Something about Trina pounced on

me, perhaps it was her eyes, the way she looked at me, bold,

aggressively. She made no secret about it. She was trying to get

with me, and when she walked away, she showed me more. I

watched for a moment, placing her index finger over her temple

like she was contemplating the plot.

“
Gee, Hope. You say that you left town yesterday, but your

paper tag has today’s date on it.”

“
Ummm, that was a mistake they made at the car lot,” Hope

stammered.

“
Yea, right. You better be careful Marcus doesn’t learn of your

mistakes,” Trina said, like a threat, and then winked her eye at me.

“
I’ll be seeing you around L.” She pointed at me like she had just

staked her claim on me. I raised a brow thinking I just witnessed

a cat fight. Trina jumped in her car. The girls clamored. The sys-

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tem in her car was turned up loud, thumping so hard I could feel

it vibrating. Mary J. Blige’s song “Real Love” filled the air as they

drove off.

“
Bitch!” Hope cursed giving me the evil eye. “Listen Life, you

got to stay away from her. Trina is bad news. Her family, or some-

body is heavy into drugs. Her last boyfriend was a baller, now he’s

doing life in the feds.”

“
Why are you telling me this?”

A car pulled up and two gorgeous women got out. They were

holding hands.

“
I don’t want you to get into any trouble. That’s all.”

She looked at her watch, a signal to me that she was about to

go. She turned and opened the car door. As I placed my hand over

hers, she gulped air, and took in a deep breath. So much more

innocence exuded from her. In the sunlight, I watched the wisps

of baby hair cascade down her delicate forehead. I noticed that she

did not remove her hand, nor did she blink for that moment in

time. Our eyes locked and I knew if there were a way to check her

heartbeat, it would be in the same rhythm as mine.

“
Life, you know I’m the kind of girl that believes in speaking

her mind. I’m very much attracted to you …” I watched as her

tongue moistened and primed her lips, lips that I wanted to kiss,

preparing to tell me what I did not want to hear.

“ …
and … and last night you made love to me like I had

never been … been touched, made love to before.” She then took

my hand off hers, and looked away, breaking our physical com-

munication.

“
We’re from two different worlds.” Her voice now sounded

harsh and cold. “Your world is where I am running from. Poverty

and pain fills us with greed and envy. Money can’t buy love. It

can’t buy me.” She shook her head like she was trying to chase

away some evil demon. “You’ll end up dead or in them white folks’

prison.”

Her words stung me like a premonition. One of my knees felt

like it was going to buckle. A Black woman’s premonition is the

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closest thing to God, my stepmom taught me that. Somehow, I

know that Hope’s words held the truth. The kind of truth that no

hustler wanted to take heed to.

“
For you, Hope, I’d hang up my scale, no mo dope game,

place my pistol, Jesus, in the closet. If you help me, I’d go

straight,” I said, dead serious not knowing or caring where that

voice was coming from. I knew that it just felt good talking to her.

Silence. I looked over her head. There was a Goodyear blimp in

the sky. Her rejection of me was written all over her face. It

answered my question in a way she could never have. Time was of

the essence. What I just said even sounded whack to me, that was

my weak heart talking. I realized I needed to spit game like flavor

in her ear. “Tell you what, give me something to read, something

conscious.” I watched her delicate eyebrows furrow like she was

trying to read my brain to see if I was lying. I know that all them

people with that fake-ass “Black Man” talk were suckers and want-

ed to tr y to get people to read like it was going to kick star t a rev-