Authors: Silhouettes
Street Soldier 2 (14 page)
Poetry moved her head back, shocked by my tone. I left before she had anything else to say. Since I'd become her boss, she learned fast to keep her mouth shut. I guessed she didn't want to lose out on any money, and I reminded her, before, that back talk wasn't needed.
I got to my appointment five minutes late. From the outside, the building looked as if it would be big enough, but the inside was too small. The man did his best to get me to sign a lease, as the property he owned had been vacant for some time.
“Come on, dude. I really need to rent this place out. I can take two hundred dollars off the rent and pay the electric bill for you for a year.”
Even though that was a good damn deal, I still couldn't see myself downsizing to a place this small. I would only be able to get half of the customers at my current place in here, and would eventually lose money.
“Nah, bro,” I said, shaking his hand. “But thanks for your time.”
I left, and instead of going back to the laundromat, I stopped to get me some KFC, then went to Mama's house. For whatever reason, I had hoped that one day I would show up and she would be there. Today wasn't my lucky day, and as I checked the rooms, again, nothing had changed. I went into my bedroom and sat on my bed. I fumbled with my nails, then dropped back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. Memories of me and Mama started swirling in my head. I smiled at the good times and shook my head at the bad times. We sure as hell had our ups and downs, but I needed her so badly. I needed to hear her voice, even though she would probably be cussing me out right about now. I smiled from the thought, then sighed from frustrations. I didn't really want to go where I was thinking about going, but calling on Him, again, seemed like the right thing to do. I closed my eyes, asking God for His help.
“Please,” I said. “I know I haven't done right, but don't make Mama pay for my mistakes. Bring her back and take me. I don't know how you go about doin' things, but every time I come to you with problems, you never seem to work them out in my favor. Just this one time, please, come through for me. Amen.”
I opened my eyes and sat up on the bed. For the next few hours, I hung around watching TV, eating my chicken, and playing video games. It was getting pretty late, so I locked the door and drove back to the laundromat. When I got there, several people were inside and one lady was fussing because she had put her money into the detergent machine and nothing came out. Since it was after nine o'clock, I figured Poetry had already left. But one of her responsibilities was to make sure the detergent and change machines were filled. When I opened the machine, the whole thing was almost empty. Mad as hell, I went to my closet, giving the lady an extra box of detergent for her troubles. I guessed Poetry had Anthony's dick on her mind, and she couldn't wait to go see him. The thought truly pissed me off, and how dare she neglect my business for a cheating-ass fool?
“Thank you,” the lady said, walking away to finish her laundry. “Oh.” She turned around. “The bathroom needs to be cleaned up. I went in there to use it and somebody did number two and didn't flush the toilet.”
“Appreciate you for lettin' me know. I'll get on it.”
I didn't bother to go to the bathroom, as I could already imagine what it looked like. Yet again, that was one of Poetry's responsibilities that she failed to do. I called her to see why she hadn't filled the machines like I told her to, and to question her about the bathroom, but got no answer. My blood was boiling over, so I got in my car and drove to her house. No sooner had I turned the corner than I saw the blue Saturn from earlier parked where my motorcycle was that day. I couldn't see any lights on inside, and as I reached for the doorknob to open the door, I quickly changed my mind. I wasn't about to get myself caught up into no bullshit about no chick who didn't seem worth it. If she wanted to hook back up with her ex, so damn what? My feelings were a little bruised, but over the years, I had learned how to handle these kinds of setbacks with females. Nothing surprised me about them, so I had to chalk that shit up and move on.
I drove back to the laundromat, and as I sat in my car getting high, I hated what I was feeling inside for Poetry. I regretted that I let my guard down and kicked up some feelings for a chick I really didn't know much about. I kept picturing old boy fucking her and had no one but myself to blame for many missed opportunities. Maybe I should have told her what was going on with me, but then again, that probably wouldn't have mattered. Her legs would still be cocked open right now, being served by her soldier boy. I was so damn jealous, and it surprised me just how jealous I was. Normally, shit like this could roll off my back, but as the night went on, my thoughts of her were sticking with me. I debated going back to her house just to see if her ex had left. I struggled with my thoughts, and by then, my mind was already made up. I was in front of her house, again, seeing that his car was still there. I did a U-turn, then went back home. Eager to tear into something, I went upstairs to Jenay's apartment. But as I approached the door, I could already hear some action going on inside. Sounded like she and her lover were having some fun, and unless I was invited, I didn't want to interrupt.
Not ready to call it a night, I got back in my car and drove around for a while. I asked a few fellas hanging out in front of a bar if they knew G, or where I could find him. Nobody knew nothing. I even drove to East St. Louis, looking around and trying to see if I could find him. No luck. To waste more time, I pulled out my fake ID and went to the casino. Played several hands on the blackjack tables and threw money into a slot machine that gave me an eight-hundred-dollar payout. By the time I got done and cashed in my tickets, it was almost six o'clock in the morning. The casino was about to close for a few hours. With fat pockets, I drove back home, slept for three hours, then went to the laundromat to see if Poetry had opened up at eight like she was supposed to.
I pushed the door open, seeing her in the back, mopping the floor. At least four customers were already inside washing.
“Why in the fuck didn't you put any detergent in the machines like I told you to?” I shouted at her. “And the bathroom in there is a damn mess! I guess yo' ass didn't have time, and since you ain't got time to do shit like I asked you to do, yo' ass fired! Get the fuck out. I'll mail your check to you at the end of the week!”
Poetry's mouth dropped open and she rushed to my office with the mop in her hand. She pointed it at me as rage covered her face. “For your information, Negro, I couldn't open the damn machine after you left because you had the keys on you! I called you several times, but you did not answer. I just got done cleaning up that nasty-ass bathroom and somebody must have messed it up after I left, because before then it was sparkling clean!” She let go of the mop and it hit the floor. “As for this job, you can shove it up your ass, especially if you think you're going to come in here talking to me like that. Just who in the hell do you think you are? 'Cause to me, you ain't shit!”
Poetry was getting ready to exit, but I jumped up and closed the door. I held it shut with my hand so she wouldn't leave. My voice lowered, as what she said could have been possible. I'd left my phone in the car while I was at Mama's house, and while I was at the casino. The keys, indeed, were in my pocket all along. My mind was so fucked up that I forgot.
“Look, I apologize for goin' off on you like that and I'm sorry. I'm just on edge right now and a lot of shitâ”
“What you got going on, Prince? Tell me. I've been waiting to hear your excuse for a very long time. I get so tired of you saying the same old thing over and over without explaining yourself.”
I let go of the door and put my hands in my pockets. “What did you do last night?” I asked.
Poetry folded her arms. “None of your business. Now, I asked you a question and I want some answers. And just so you know, I'm not telling you nothing until you come clean with me.”
“You were with
him
last night, weren't you?”
him
last night, weren't you?”
“And you were with
her
last night, weren't you? Tell me, Prince, who is she? Who got your damn brain so twisted that you can't even recognize a decent woman when you see one?”
her
last night, weren't you? Tell me, Prince, who is she? Who got your damn brain so twisted that you can't even recognize a decent woman when you see one?”
“Is that what you're callin' yourself these days? A decent woman don't go around fuckin' married men. Tricks and hoes do, and from what I see, you're wearin' your title pretty well.”
Poetry reached out and slapped the shit out of me. Now, if there ever came a time that I would put my hands on a female, this was it. I lunged forward and shoved her against my desk. I grabbed her by her neck and squeezed it. She scratched at my hand, causing me to snatch it away. I darted my finger at her with a heaving chest. “Do you really want to know what the fuck is up with me, you stupid-ass girl? I'll tell you what! I don't take no shit from nobody and I will kill any motherfucka who crosses me and puts their hands on me. Been there, done that! That other woman you keep talkin' about is my damn mother! She's been missin' for almost two months and I don't know where the fuck she is! So I don't have time for a bunch of bullshit right now, especially when I don't know if she's dead or alive!”
I turned around, not wanting Poetry to see my emotions. She touched my back, but I shrugged her off me. Her voice softened. “I'm so sorry, Prince, and had I knownâ”
I quickly turned around. “Had you known, you would have still been fuckin' with me about why I couldn't spend my time on no damn relationship. That's all some of y'all chicks want is for somebody to take care of y'all and give y'all some dick. I hope you got it in last night, that way you can stop sweatin' the fuck out of me!”
Poetry glared at me, as I seemed to have lost it. She remained calmed, though, and that really surprised me. “Your words sting, but I have never been one to wait around for nobody to do anything for me. I couldn't care less about some dick, and for your information, nothing happened between me and Anthony last night.”
I stepped up face-to-face with her. “Really now? Then, why was he at your damn house all night? Don't lie, Poetry, because I saw his car parked out there all night.”
“Are you stalking me or something? Look, dude,” she said, pushing me away from her, “I am out of here. You got some serious issues. I just told you that I didn't do anything with him.”
She charged toward the door, but I pushed her against my desk again. I hit the light switch and sniffed out her perfume in the dark. I pressed my body against hers, then held her face in my hands. My voice was calm, as I sought out a legitimate answer to my question. “If you didn't do anything with him, then why was his car outside of your house all night? Just answer that for me, please.”
“He met me at my house after work, Prince. We talked outside for about thirty minutes, and when he got in his car, it wouldn't start. I took him to his mother's house, and he left his car at my house all night. When I left this morning, it was still there. I don't know when he's going to get somebody to come pick it up, and that is the truth.”
“You still want to get with that fool or what? I saw the way you looked at him yesterday, Poetry, and that look in your eyes said somethin' was there.”
“No,” she said, removing my sweaty hands from her face. “I was being nice and the only person I'm interested in right now is you. I'm sorry about what you've been going through, and if I can do anything to help you find your mother, let me know. Don't shut me out. Just give me a chance to be there for you, okay?”
Poetry held my waist and as we started to kiss, her lips put me at ease. I moved my mouth away from her lips and sucked her neck. “I'm no good, baby. I'm tellin' you now that I've done a lot of shit in my life that I'm not proud of.”
“Haven't we all,” she said. She pulled my shirt over my head and started to unbutton my shorts. Her one-piece stretch dress was easy access, and as I pulled it over her head, I felt for her G-string panties and pulled them down. The aroma of her peach-smelling body infused the tiny room, exciting me even more. I dropped my shorts to my ankles and stepped out of them. Poetry sat up on my cluttered desk, and when something hit the floor, she laughed. “Oops,” she said, then wrapped her legs around me and massaged my bare ass. I wanted to taste her so badly, but my dick was already moving in the direction of her heat. I held the tip of my head, circling her moist hole, then easing myself inside. Poetry rested back on her elbows, knocking even more things off my desk. I held her legs apart, and dug myself inside of her like I was digging for precious gold. The sounds of her juices stirring filled the room and so did her delicate moans.
“I knew this dick was going to feel good,” she said in a whisper. “Damn, Prince, this shit feels too good.”
I kept quiet, but the sex felt nice to me too. I ground tough on her insides, stretching her tight pussy even wider. And when my pace picked up, Poetry leaned forward and held on to my neck. Our bodies slapped against each other as she worked the lower part of her body like a pro. I gave her long strokes, deep strokes that wet my shaft even more. Her whole body was trembling and I could feel her legs shaking in my arms. I leaned in to wet her lips with my saliva, then dropped my head to suck her nipples. They were tiny, but as I teased them, she was on fire.
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