West End Girls (15 page)

“She just busted in there and broke the shit up as if she was the mama.”

Again the two childhood friends burst into laughter.

Not noticing Finest was in.

“Who is Sug?” Finest asked, coming out of the kitchen.

“Where's your car?” Malcolm hadn't seen it when he walked up.

“Oh, that was my sister's nickname from before.”

Shrugging, looking bored at the whole laughter thing, Finest asked Sinclair, “Before what?”

“Before she stopped dancing naked on stage. Oh yeah, my mama told me about her. Said she was a nasty girl.” Malcolm giggled, continuing to enjoy Sinclair's company today.

“Malcolm, you need to shut up. I'm talking. I'm asking questions. I don't want to hear your mouth.”

Malcolm's face tightened. Sinclair could see Finest was running on the edge of Malcolm's nerves. Why Malcolm was taking so much off Finest in the first place, Sinclair didn't know, but she was sure gonna find out. Malcolm wasn't a tough guy, but this abuse was crazy. She liked Finest, true enough, but she had strong friendship feelings for Malcolm, and this whole bullying thing was getting hard to take.

Sinclair laughed at Malcolm's comment anyway, although Finest was being rude and didn't like their joking around. She'd always found Malcolm funny and wanted to continue in another round of childhood memories, but she could sense that Finest wasn't up to it.

“Let's go,” he told Sinclair. “You already got us late.”

“Where is your car?” Malcolm asked again.

“Around the corner. I didn't want to park it in the driveway. It's not cool for your vehicle to be in the same place every day.”

They were going out to sell movies today. It was her first day going with them, and acting immature was the last thing she should have been doing right now. Had she known, maybe she would have put her and Malcolm's little laugh fest on hold.

Walking out the house, Sinclair's suddenly noticed a familiar-looking slow-moving car. It was Gold Mouth. “Oh no!” she gasped, instinctively ducking behind Malcolm.

Malcolm noticed and looked at her before looking around at what or who might have spooked her. He must have then noticed Gold Mouth, because he glared intensely at the guy. “That's dude that blew the house up,” he told Finest.

Finest sucked his teeth and glared at Gold Mouth.

“What choo want in my street?” Malcolm called out.

By now Sinclair had turned her back and was standing behind both Malcolm and Finest. She had gotten a little tougher in the last week but not that tough. A grenade was still a grenade. She was a little stunned that Malcolm had called him like that.

Gold Mouth stopped. “What?”

“I said, what choo doin' on my street?” Malcolm said boldly.

Sinclair wondered now if both of the boys were packing. She knew Malcolm was itching to carry that new gun of his.

“Looks like a free street to me.” Gold Mouth eyed the two of them, sizing them up. “I'm looking over the neighborhood. Maybe wanna move here. You got a problem with that?”

“Maybe.”

“I see y'all got some vandals and shit, blowing up shit. Maybe this neighborhood is too rough,” he said, showing all this gold.

Sinclair peeked around Malcolm's shoulder.
He is truly ugly
.

“I see ya girl scared o' strangers.” Gold Mouth motioned his head toward Sinclair.

“My girl just don't like ugly, punk-ass bitch niggas.”

Finest showed that he found Malcolm's statement humorous, and then quickly straightened up, showing Gold Mouth he wasn't up for here just for laughs, allowing the tip of his Glock to peek out.

Gold Mouth chuckled smugly. “Damn! Y'all some rude muthafuckas. Mmm-hmm. Might need to be taught some manners.” He sucked his teeth and again tried again to get a good look at Sinclair.

“Well, I hope you don't think you're the one. Ain't gonna be like that.” Malcolm confirmed Sinclair's thoughts as to whether he was carrying his gun.

“Mmm-hmm.” Gold Mouth sucked his teeth again and drove off.

Finest looked at Malcolm, “Liked how you handled yo'self, 'cuz. Maybe you ain't a punk, after all.”

Malcolm looked at Sinclair. “Whatever.”

Sinclair was scared out of her mind. She just knew there was about to be some shooting. Maybe if she had Omar's gun in her hand, she would have felt brave. As a matter of fact, she was hard-pressed to remember where she put it after she and Tanqueray got back to Unique's. Yeah, Sinclair remembered now. She'd handed it to Tang.

“Niggas gon' be back,” Malcolm said, speaking to no one in particular.

“Not if you take care of yo' business.” Finest slapped his side where he had his gun.

Malcolm just nodded. This was his break. Sinclair could see the change happening right before his eyes. Finest had challenged him, like a Boy Scout leader. Malcolm was out for a badge. Sinclair felt it in her heart. He was gonna take on Gold Mouth.

“Malcolm, don't mess with—”

Before Sinclair could finish her sentence, Finest took her hand and nearly dragged her with him toward the car, and Malcolm followed, glancing around, no doubt, for Gold Mouth.

Finest dropped them off in the parking lot of the grocery store. Malcolm was his go-to guy, now that So-an'-so was near dead. It was his job to canvass the parking lots. He knew what to do, but this was Sinclair's first time hustling movies. She wasn't even sure why Finest was dropping her off along with him. The way he had manhandled her to the car, she thought she was going to ride with him for a while and pick up more movies to copy or, better yet, take her to the movies to film. She'd wondered when the training was going to start and assumed he would be the one teaching her.

As soon as they pulled into the parking stall, Finest leaned over and opened her door as if to say, “Get the hell out. I gots better thangs to do than fool with you.”

This waiting for Finest to show her some grown-up attention was getting old. She was planning to make a serious move on him soon. Maybe tonight. School was starting in a few weeks, and who knew what that was gonna mean for her? She wasn't even sure if she was going back after all these efforts to make sure she was all lined up. College seemed like a dream now. Just yesterday it was a surety, but overnight it went into a “maybe.” From college girl to movie hustler, and for what?

Sinclair watched Finest pull off. “Are we getting any money for this?”

“Who knows, but I'ma tell you this. I'm about to do something else.”

“Do something else? Like what? You want some movies?” she asked a woman who walked past on her way to the car.”

The woman shook her head and climbed in. “That's not how you do it.”

Malcolm swaggered away and came back within a moment with ten dollars. “That's how you do it.”

“How?”

“Just watch and learn, girl.”

Malcolm approached another car and within a moment or two had sold more movies. He was a moneymaking machine. He was really good at this. Sinclair was impressed. He continued to sell for the next fifteen minutes, with Sinclair watching in silence from where she stood near the side of the grocery store.

“You got to show me how to do this. I haven't sold shit!” Sinclair laughed.

Malcolm did too. “You gotta know how to ho'.”

“What?”

Malcolm chuckled. “You ain't seent me ask nar a nigga if he wanted a movie. That's 'cuz I'm ho'in'.”

Malcolm always sounded like his mother when using diction like that, saying, “nar a nigga,” instead of “not one nigga.” Sinclair chuckled, looking him over, and he grinned at her. She felt a little tinkle. True, Malcolm was putting on some summertime changes, as far as his looks were concerned, but she wasn't sure if they were enough to turn her heart from Finest.
Now he is some ho' material!

“That was luck. You ain't got it like that.”

Malcolm smacked his lips and again strolled over to a young woman waiting at the bus. She looked as if she had no more than a bus pass on her, but after Malcolm sat on the bench with her for a moment or two, he came back rolling dollar bills in his pocket.

“And I got her phone number too.”

“You lyin'!” Sinclair looked around for a target. Spying a clean-cut young man standing by the building, she started toward him, ignoring Malcolm's call for her to stop. She smiled at the young man, who immediately smiled back. She just knew she had a sale now. “You like movies?”

“You got movies?”

“Well, yeah.”

“How much?”

Sinclair started to pull them from under her big hoodie right, but Malcolm grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her close to him. “Sorry, my man. Me and my girl was arguing about what to see tonight, so she about to give you all the movies I just
bought
her.”

“She said she had illegal movies.”

“Nah, she didn't, and she don't. She ain't got nothing but attitude.” Malcolm gave Sinclair “the stank eye.”

“Hmm. Then I guess you guys need to get outta here then. Because I've been watching you for about twenty minutes, and I haven't seen nothing like a domestic squabble jumping off.”

“Why we gotta leave?”

Malcolm pulled Sinclair close and bum-rushed her around the side of the store. “Stop it! He's a cop.”

“What?” Sinclair craned her neck over her shoulder to see if he was following them.

“A cop, you dumb ass! Damn!”

“Oh, I didn't know.”

“Obviously.”

Sinclair's lip tightened in her embarrassment. “I'm not a dumb ass.”

“I don't know what else you would call it.” Malcolm broke into laughter.

“I don't want to do this anymore. I need some real money, Malcolm. I need to get my family out of trouble. Tanqueray said we might really be in trouble with Gold Mouth.”

Sinclair had been holding off the thoughts that Tanqueray was telling the truth all day, but after that little run-in back at Malcolm's, she felt stronger about the situation. She didn't want to face any of it.

“I told you what I was plannin'.”

“No, you didn't.” Sinclair sniveled, holding back the actual tears that burned her eyes.

Looking around, she noticed the man selling corn on the corner out of a small cart. She stared long enough for Malcolm to sense her hunger. She didn't bring the money that Tanqueray had given her. She was saving it for Gold Mouth, or to have the house rebuilt.

Malcolm jogged over to the man and bought her a long, sweet ear. After he brought it back with him, she nodded to him to take the first bite, which he did, and then handed it to her.

“I'ma rob a bank.”

Sinclair wiped her mouth with the back of her hand after taking a big bite. “What?”

“We need a lot of money, and I'ma rob a bank to get it for us.”

“We? What choo need that kinda money for?”

“I'ma get up outta the
P
. I'ma get my ass up outta here.”

They walked for a while with Sinclair eating the corn, thinking hard on Malcolm's words. She hadn't thought about anyone else wanting to leave. She knew she was on her way out, well, until Deb got locked down. Now she didn't know what was going on. Unique hadn't said a word about sending her to school in the East Bay where she'd been attending, and Tanqueray didn't live on the good side of town anymore. Who knows what she had up her sleeve.

As a matter of fact, with her Bonnie and Clyde type exit, taking all that expensive shit from Omar's place, she and Tanqueray were probably on the run from the cops and didn't even know it. Maybe she should be thinking beyond her mother's house. Maybe this entire week was just the sign she needed to think bigger than high school.

“But there's got to be another way,” she said, her thoughts escaping.

“Ain't no other way.”

“Well, how you plan to do it? I mean, when and how? And what does Finest say about it?” Sinclair tossed the finished cob into the bushes. She didn't notice Malcolm's sour expression at the mention of Finest.

“I am not concerned about what that fucka thinks. I'm not his bitch . . . unlike somebody.”

“Somebody like who?”

Malcolm turned his head away and continued walking.

Sinclair thought about Malcolm's not so subtle accusation. “Why you say that? Has Finest said that about me? Who you calling a bitch? Who, Malcolm? Me, I am not a bitch. If you are telling me that Finest likes me, just say it the right way. Don't be adding all that hate to it.”

Malcolm smacked his teeth.

“Calling me a bitch,” she mumbled to herself, wondering if Finest liked her. She sure as hell liked him.

As they reached the next grocery store parking lot, the shoppers were busy rushing to their cars, so they split up.

Sinclair moved quickly over to the woman with the car full of loud kids. To her surprise, the woman seemed to expect a sell of some kind and was ready.

“What choo got today?” the woman asked. “I ain't wantin' no rings.”

“Movies.”

“That's what I'm talking about.”

The woman proceeded to name a list, all of which Sinclair had but one. She made a killing on her end of the lot, and after emptying her stash of movies, she quickly tucked the money in her bra, and scurried back to Malcolm, who hadn't done badly himself.

“We shoulda came here first. We're closer to the hood. Ain't no cops here.”