Authors: Silhouettes
Street Soldier 2 (6 page)
She tried to remain calm, but couldn't help herself. Her hand went up to her hip and her previously nice tone changed. “Are you kidding me? I don't have to harass no one. I was just trying to be nice, but I see you wish to continue insulting me for no reason. Maybe I am wasting my time, but something was placed on my heart to do the right thing. As for the job, fuck it! Forget I ever asked.”
“I will. You've done the right thing and I appreciate it. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do. I need to get to the bank before noon, and if I don't get done countin' this change, I'll never make it. So, see you around and have a good day.”
Poetry sucked in her bottom lip and turned to leave. I got back to counting my change, and no sooner had I picked up the headphones, than she appeared at the door again.
“One more thing,” she said. “Don't flatter yourself thinking you're all that, because you're not. You're handsome and everything, but I've seen and have had better. Your attitude stinks and you're probably one of those down-low brothas who don't know or recognize a good thing when he sees it.”
I swore this chick was crazy. If she was trying to win me over, or get a job, this wasn't the way to do it. Having enough, I stood up and lowered my loose basketball shorts to my knees. My dick plopped out and I lifted my shirt, revealing my abs too.
“Close the door and let me show you how down low I am. Low down and dirty, some may say, but never on the down low. You said it was my loss if I didn't want to go there with you, and to be honest with you, Poetry, I don't. You're not my type, I don't need nobody working for me, but if you're anxious to get some dick up in you, again, I can help just about any woman with that.”
Poetry scanned my body, stopping at my hanging muscle. “I disagree. With a dick that little, I don't think you can help, nor satisfy any woman with what you got. I'm out.”
She walked away again, this time leaving me with a bruised ego. I was the first to admit that I didn't have a mammoth-sized dick, but it was definitely something I could work with. The previous chicks in my life had no complaints, so I looked down at my goods and brushed off her comment. I raised my shorts and got back to counting my change.
By noon, I headed to the bank to deposit my money. I dialed out to call Mama on the way there, but Raylo answered the phone.
“Is my mama there?” I asked.
“Hell no,” he said, then hung up.
I called her cell phone, and when she didn't answer, I left a message for her to call me.
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Nearly three days had elapsed and I still hadn't heard from Mama. I was somewhat worried, but she was known for disappearing, then showing up weeks later. It had been such a long time since she'd done that, and since we'd been talking almost every other day, I felt as if her disappearing days were behind us. I stocked the shelves behind the counter at the liquor store while leaving her a message.
“Uh, Miss Lady, where in the hell are you at? You could call me to say what's up and I want to know if you got your cigs and beer. I know Raylo probably told you what went down and I hope you ain't upset with me about that shit. If you need somethin' you need to let me know. I'd rather give what I got to you, not to him. Ya feel me? Anyhow, get at me soon, all right?”
I ended the call and got back to stocking the shelves. Once I was finished, I stood behind the counter with Nate. The store had been flooded with customers, and he was mad at me for announcing on the news that we gave things away on credit.
“You shouldn't have ever said that shit,” Nate said.
“These fools been runnin' up in here like crazy, tryin' to get somethin' for free. I had to put up a cardboard sign that says
IF YOU AIN'T GOT MONEY TO PAY, YOU WON'T BE SERVED
.”
IF YOU AIN'T GOT MONEY TO PAY, YOU WON'T BE SERVED
.”
Nate pointed to the sign in the corner that I hadn't seen. I laughed and apologized for my inappropriate way to generate more business.
“I know you meant no harm, so I ain't trippin',” he said. “Next time, take out a business ad in the newspaper or somethin'. You may have more luck.”
I laughed and helped Nate knock out some of the customers. When Jenay came in hugged up with one of her women, I waited on them too. I had a slick grin on my face, as getting to know them both on a much more personal level was interesting, as well as entertaining.
“What can I get you?” I asked her.
“You always know the right thing to give me, but I'll take a pack of Newports, a gallon of milk, and a box of condoms.”
All I did was blush, and retrieved the items Jenay asked me to get. I gave her the total and she paid me. As I gave the items to her, she left the condoms on the tray. “Those are yours,” she said. “Bring them with you later.
We
hope to see you around ... let's say, ten?”
We
hope to see you around ... let's say, ten?”
I winked. “Sure.”
Jenay and her companion walked away. I was all smiles, until Nate smacked me on the back of my neck. “Get yo' mind out of the gutter. And how in the hell can you get invited into her bedroom and I've been tryin' to hit that shit for years?”
“'Cause you ain't got it like me, Nate. I told you those bibs ain't no winner and you don't believe me. You need to let me hook you up, then you may be able to slide into them sheets like I be doin'.”
Nate laughed and brushed off my comment. “Whatever, fool. You will never get me in that shit you be wearin'. I don't care if Jenay looks like Lola Falana or not, I'm stickin' with my style.”
“Who in the fuck is Lola Falana? She must be ancient, 'cause I ain't never heard of her.”
“She is one of the finest black women that ever walked this earth. And every time I see Jenay, I have dreams about her. If you dippin' into that, you are one lucky-ass Negro.”
I shrugged, not really feeling lucky at all. As far as I saw it, it was just some pussy. Wasn't sure if I was up to sex tonight, had other shit on my mind. Plus, it was the Fourth of July weekend. I had no desire to stay cooped up in my apartment, and Nate and I talked about going downtown on the St. Louis Riverfront, Fair St. Louis, to watch the fireworks. It was a yearly tradition and not too many folks in St. Louis missed out.
Nate and I decided to close the liquor store around six o'clock, so we could make it to Fair St. Louis before everything popped off. Since it was so damn hot outside, I changed into my white wife beater, cocked a cap to the side to shield the sun, and sported my shades.
Nate left the bibs at home, and settled for a pair of jean shorts, a T-shirt, and leather sandals. He knew better than to look like a damn fool with me, and as we rode the crowded Metrolink to downtown, he laughed about changing it up a bit.
“I didn't want to hear your mouth, but don't you ever think I'ma put my bibs away for you.”
“Ay, keep 'em. Don't matter to me, but when the ladies don't show you no love, don't be mad at me.”
“I get love all the time, no matter what I wear. I keep tellin' you that clothes don't make a man. You'd better learn somethin'.”
“I feel you, no doubt. And you know I respect all the advice that you've ever given me.”
Nate nodded and looked ahead as we stood, holding on to the rail above so we wouldn't fall. The Metrolink was getting more packed with each stop, and everyone had to squeeze in. When we reached the Arch grounds by the Riverfront, many got off. Nate and I headed toward the Arch, where many of the festivities took place.
“With all that's going on around in St. Louis,” Nate said, “and with brothaman gettin' shot the other day by the liquor store, are you sure you want to hang around in the Lou? I mean, a young man like you should have some plans ... big plans. I hope you've been thinkin' about your future.”
“I have, but when I do think about it, I see it right here. I'm not runnin' from nothin' around here, and nothin' surprises me at all. I've seen plenty of niggas lose their lives and die right in front of me. I've seen it all, Nate, and this is the way of life, ain't it?”
“Not necessarily,” Nate replied. He turned his head as two chicks with very short shorts on walked by. He licked his lips and shook his head. “Did you see that gash on that skeeza? Umph, umph, umph!” He looked again, then got back to his conversation with me. “What you've been around and what you're accustomed to ain't always the way life is supposed to be. I like your style, Prince, and I like how you distance yourself from all of these hatin' niggas around here. I know that comes from all that you've been through, and you've got a good head on your shoulders. Just keep that attitude you got. You'll see what else life has out here to offer you. It ain't necessarily what you've seen, it's what you haven't had an opportunity to see yet.”
“I get that,” I said, stopping at a vender's booth to get a turkey leg. I hadn't eaten all day and was starving. “Do you want one?”
“Nah, I'ma get me some funnel cake and one of those Chicago-style hotdogs they be havin'. I'll wait.”
We stood in the long line, waiting to get my turkey leg. I truly did understand what Nate was saying, but St. Louis was the only home I'd known and would probably be where I would be forever. Besides, Mama was here and I couldn't see myself ever leaving her. I paid for my turkey leg and we continued to talk, walk, and look at every pretty chick who swaggered by. There were plenty of them to see and many were showing all skin. The fair consisted of people from all races and backgrounds, as this was a time that everyone in the Lou seemed to come together.
Once Nate got his funnel cake and hotdog, we found a spot on the stairs of the Gateway Arch to watch the fireworks. Horse carriages rode by and many vendors were selling balloons and unique lights to those passing by. I couldn't help but think of my son, wondering what he was up to and where he was now living. He was almost two years old by now, and it bothered me that there was a possibility he might not ever get to know me. I remembered the first time Nadine told me she was pregnant. I denied him, wanting nothing to do with him at all. I guessed this was payback for my neglect, and payback for taking matters into my own hands after she was killed. Her mother called me an animal that day, and she blamed me for Nadine being killed. It was hard for me to live with that, only because I knew there was so much truth behind it. Those niggas were after me and, unfortunately, Nadine was in the car with me. I shut my eyes, thinking about a horrible day that would haunt me forever.
We were riding in my car that day. I was teasing Nadine about her new boyfriend and she playfully shoved my shoulder. When we got to a stoplight, she turned her head to look out of the partially lowered window. I looked in her direction too, and when a burgundy Regal pulled up beside us, my eyes stayed focused like a laser. The rear window slowly lowered and I saw the tip of an AK-47 aim in our direction. My foot hit the accelerator, but because of the wet pavement, all I heard were my wheels turning in circles, burning rubber. I yelled for Nadine to duck, and she dropped down on the front seat, yelling and screaming.
“My baby!” she said, wanting to protect our son, who was strapped in a car seat on the back seat, between two laundry baskets. “I gotta get my baby!”
As the bullets hit against my car, it sounded like a Fourth of July celebration going on. Glass was shattered everywhere, and as fast as I was driving, the car beside us kept up. Nadine jumped up from the seat, shouting for her baby and trying to protect him. When her body jerked forward, I knew she had been hit by flying bullets. I slammed on the brakes, doing a spinning U-turn in the middle of the street that left my car smoking. Nadine's body fell backward, slamming into the dash and plopping down on the seat.
“Shit!” I shouted. I nervously touched her chest, trying to see if she was still breathing.
I couldn't believe this shit was happening, and as the other car sped away, I panicked, driving like a bat out of hell to get to Barnes Hospital, which was less than a mile away.
“Nadine!” I kept yelling, trying to get a response. “Get up!” By now, the whites of her eyes were showing and she had no response. From what I could see in the rearview mirror, Prince Jr. was okay. He sat quietly on the back seat and I was thankful that the laundry baskets were on both sides of him. My breathing was getting heavier and heavier, my legs were shaking, and my sweaty palms were so slippery I could barely keep my hands on the steering wheel. When I reached the hospital, I put the car in park and carried Nadine's limp body into the emergency room.
“Help me!” I yelled at the nurses and doctors on duty. “Somebody please help me!”
Help arrived, but it was too late for Nadine.
I couldn't get the thoughts of her out of my head and if it had not been for me, taking it upon myself to kill my partner Cedric, Nadine very well could still be alive. That's just something I had to live with, and living with it damn sure wasn't easy.
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