Authors: Kiki Swinson
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I see you now.”
“Where are you?” I asked with much curiosity.
“I’m over here on your right, parked beside this red Maxima.”
Following Russ’s instructions, I looked over to my right and then I looked for the Maxima he said he was parked beside. Then I finally saw him.
Big as day, this nigga was sitting on twenty-twos, driving a pearl white Escalade. It was pretty as hell, but I wasn’t gonna tell him it was. I would hate for him to get the wrong idea, like I ain’t used to nice shit.
When I parked my whip and got in his, I just told him it was nice and left it at that, even though he lied to me about not being able to afford expensive vehicles. And to have personalized license plates that said “Russ 3” only put the icing on the cake.
“What kind of music you listen to?” he asked me after I buckled my seat belt.
“I like anything from the group Floetry. And I also like Alicia Keys.”
“Well, good, because I got both of them.”
Russ put on Alicia Keys CD first. We listened to the entire CD until we got to Lightfoot, which was only ten minutes outside of Williamsburg. When we started driving down the strip, where the outlets were, we decided to eat at this Japanese restaurant. After Russ parked his truck, he came around to my side and opened the door. Truth be told, Ricky ain’t never did no shit like that for me. It felt good, but kind of funny. The way I carried on, Russ didn’t even notice it.
“Have you been here before?” Russ wanted to know.
“Nah. But, I’ve been to some other ones,” I explained as we were escorted to our seats.
I talked Russ into sitting around the hibachi grill; that way our food would be cooked in front of us.
“You smell good!” he commented.
“Thanks,” I said and then smiled.
“And before I forget, your dress is hot!”
I smiled again and said, “You are full of compliments tonight.”
“I just tell it, like I see it.”
The Japanese chef was really funny and the food was banging. I could really tell that Russ was enjoying himself.
And like him, I was enjoying myself, too. I almost slipped up and told him that I didn’t want the night to end.
We got back on the road to head back to Newport News around nine-fifteen. So to me, the night was still young. That’s why I asked Russ if he wanted to hang out for another hour or so.
“Damn right!” was his answer. So instead of taking me right to my car, he drove out to Buckroe Beach. It was too cold to get out and walk, so we sat in his truck and talked.
“Are you happy?” he asked me.
“What kind of question is that?” I replied.
“It’s a question that only needs a yes or no answer.”
“Well, the answer is no.”
“So, why stay in a situation when you’re not happy?”
“Because, I can’t control other people.”
“Well, are you happy hanging out wit’ me?”
Before I answered Russ, I looked him straight in his eyes and said, “What is this, another one of your trick questions?”
He smiled and said, “It’s whatever you want it to be.”
“I bet it is,” I replied. I started looking through his CD collection, in the hope of finding something from the old school. After going through every CD Russ had stored away in the arm rest compartment, I pulled out the greatest hits from Teena Marie, “‘Dear Lover.’ This is the jam! I can’t believe you got it,” I said in a cheerful way.
“You don’t know nuttin ’bout Teena Marie!” Russ said, jokingly.
“You crazy! I love her. I mean, this is one singing sista!”
“Yeah. She can blow,” Russ agreed.
Now, here we were, sitting in his truck parked in front of the beach, listening to my girl Teena, as we watched the stars in the sky. We were honestly acting like we were a couple. The fact that Russ was talking a good game, set the mood on an even keel. If I wasn’t married to that dog-ass husband of mine, I would probably be laid up in a nice-ass hotel suite, fucking the hell out of this nigga.
But, since I was married, I wasn’t gonna play myself. I mean, come on! I didn’t know if Russ was on that kiss and tell shit! So, I had to play it straight because niggas these days loved fucking the next man’s girl! They could go back and laugh at them and tell the dude how much of a hoe their woman was. No sir, I wasn’t about to be another statistic of that alleged Faith Evans and Tupac shit! No way, it wasn’t gonna happen!
As the music continued to play, I drifted back out my window and watched the moon shine on the waves in the ocean. That’s when Russ grabbed my left hand.
“How many carats is that?” he asked me.
“Seven. Why?”
“Nuttin’, just curious.”
“What? You don’t think I deserve it?”
“I don’t know. Do you?”
“I might!” I said and then I smiled at him again.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Russ said, sounding so serious.
“Yeah. Go ‘head.”
“Are you gon’ ever leave Ricky?”
“I’ve thought about it.”
“What makes you think about it?”
“Because of the things he continues to take me through.”
“Has he ever hit you?”
“No. I mean, I’ve never had a problem wit’ that. It’s just that when he leaves the house to hang in the streets, it’s like, Kira who?”
“Do you think he’s gon’ ever change?”
“I know he ain’t!”
“So, what’s your plan?”
“I haven’t put one together. But when I do, it’s gon’ be official,” I said with much authority.
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I do. Now, can we talk about something else?” I insisted.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“Well, remember when you stopped by my salon and told me you was there to patronize my shop?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well, do you have a business that I could patronize?”
Russ started laughing and then he said, “You think you gotta lot of sense. Don’t you, Ms. Kira?”
“I would like to think so.” I watched him clear his throat as he was about to say something.
“But, to answer your question,” he continued, “nah, I ain’t got no business.”
“Why not?”
“That’s a good question.”
“Well, answer it.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just tell me why you don’t own a business. I mean, come on. If you can drive around in a Cadillac truck, then you can go into business for yourself.”
“You know what? You sound just like my mother.”
“That must be a sign, then.”
“It might be,” Russ replied and looked down at his watch.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Twenty minutes to eleven.”
“It’s getting late, huh?”
“You think so?”
“Well, for me it is.”
“You ready for me to take you to your car?”
“I would like that.”
I got another smile from Russ and then he started the truck back up. I laid my head back against the headrest to enjoy the ride. But through the whole drive back to my car, Russ turned on the silent mode. I mean, he didn’t say anything to me. All he did was look straight ahead at the oncoming traffic. I just assumed he was in deep thought. And that was cool, because I got like that sometimes too.
When Russ pulled up beside my car, he snapped out of it and words started coming out of left field. He was acting like he didn’t want me to get out of his truck. Every one of his questions had something to do with me getting up with him, in the near future. He was asking me questions like: Can we do this again? Can I call you at the shop? Would you like to take a trip to D.C. with me? When can I see you again?
I smiled nicely and said, “I can’t promise you. But, I’ll let you know.”
“A’ight. That’s cool.”
“Oh, and thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. Anytime.”
I got out and closed the door behind me.
He waited for me to drive off before he would move. I put my foot on the pedal and jetted out of there.
It didn’t take me long at all to get home. I noticed my next-door neighbor, Mr. Harvey, peeping out the window at me when I pulled up. Ricky probably had him on his payroll to watch me. I threw my hand up and waved at him. I guess he thought I didn’t see him because when I waved my hand, he jumped back and hurried up to close his bedroom curtains.
I, on the other hand, went on into my house so I could get out of my clothes and into something comfortable. And after that mission was accomplished, I cut my light off and jumped headfirst into my bed. For some odd reason, I couldn’t get myself to fall asleep even though I was dead tired; then it came to me. I smiled as I started reminiscing about my first night out with Mr. Russ.
And when that was over, I was able to fall asleep.
Niggaz On Da’ Prowl
The next morning I got a call from Ricky’s Aunt Sharon. It sounded like she was pretty upset. “What happened to you last night?” she asked in a sarcastic way.
“What you mean, what happened to me?” I snapped back.
“You were supposed to make a pick up from me last night.”
“Ahh, shit! I forgot!”
“Well, I’mma need you to come get it now.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s seven-thirty.”
“A’ight. Give me thirty minutes and I’ll be there.”
“Okay. But, we can’t let this happen again, ‘cause you know Ricky would go off on both of us.”
“Yeah. A’ight! Whatever.” I gave her the dial tone. But she was right. Ricky would go the hell off on us. But, who cared? I mean, the world wasn’t gonna stop turning because of it.
I got up, brushed my teeth, washed my face and then I was out the door. I didn’t have time to put on some clothes, so I threw on a pair of old jeans, a sweatshirt, my Sixers ball cap, and my G-Unit sneakers.
Wasn’t nothing wrong with looking gully every now and then. Since I had to go out to meet Aunt Sharon, I had to play the part, being as though she was the ghetto queen.
Now when I got to the area where I had to meet her, I had always been instructed to make a lot of detours, just to make sure wasn’t anybody following me. When I was about to do that, it dawned on me that I might run into the Feds, being as though I’d already told them about every spot Ricky had. Then I thought to myself about the possibilities of my house phone being tapped. If it was, then it wouldn’t be a secret to the Feds that I was about to make a pickup. So, the thing for me to do now was think about what I was gonna tell them when they asked.
But anyway, Sharon was at her post, which was expected. There was nothing left for me to do but go around the back of the house and pick up a black plastic trash bag out of the garbage can while Sharon watched me from the upstairs window, just to make sure the pick-up was done.
Since I got what I came for, I had to hide it on my body before I walked back around to the front of the house. That way I didn’t stir up any suspicion about what I was carrying. When I did that, I was in my car and out of there in less than two minutes flat. That was a new record for me, which was good. And not only that, but on my way back out of the neighborhood, I didn’t notice any undercover po-pos lingering around, trying to bust somebody. That made my day go by a little easier.
***
I drove straight to my bank and was escorted to my safe deposit box the minute I set foot in the lobby. I got quick service like that because I’d been a member of that bank for a long time. And because of the way I was treated, I would continue to be a member for as long as I could.
After the bank manager closed the door to the private room he placed me in, I pulled out the plastic bag of money and started counting it. By the time I was done counting it, I came up with ten Gs short of fifty. Now I knew what Ricky told me I was supposed to be picking up. So, to have dough in my hand and coming up with a number that was not what it was supposed to be, would be a problem. The thing for me to do right now was to call up Sharon and find out what the hell was going on.
Once Ricky’s dough was stashed in my deposit box, I got out of there and went to the nearest pay phone.
“Sharon,” I said, as soon as she answered her cell phone.
“Yeah. Who is this?” she asked.
“It’s Kira.”
“What’s up, baby girl?”
“The count for that bag was off ten Gs.”
“No, it wasn’t!” Sharon said, in an irritating way.
“Yes, it was. I counted it twice.”
“Well, maybe somebody took it after I stashed it out back.”
“Well, maybe somebody did! ‘Cause it’s not in that bag.” I snapped at her.
“Well, I don’t know why you got an attitude!” Sharon snapped back at me. “Because if you would’ve came by here when you were supposed to, then everything would be on point.”
“Oh, please don’t start pointing the fingers!”
“I ain’t pointing no fingers. But, the truth is the truth!”
“Ain’t no damn truth in nothing you just said.”
“So, what you trying to say?”
“I ain’t saying shit! I’mma let Ricky do all the talking when he comes back.”
“And what is he supposed to do to me?” Sharon started loud talking me. “Remember, I’m family, bitch! His favorite aunt! And he knows I wouldn’t do nothing to hurt him. You the tramp that needs to be worrying about what he gon’ do to you.”
“Oh, so Ricky supposed to be doing something to me?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Nah. I’m asking you.”
“But, I thought you said you was gon’ let Ricky do all the talking?”
“Whatever Sharon!” I said in frustration. Then I gave her the dial tone.
The second I hung up the phone, I jumped back into my car. I couldn’t help but think about the comments Sharon just made to me over the phone. I mean, she ain’t never talked to me like that before. And then, hearing her call me a bitch and saying I needed to be worrying about what Ricky was gonna do to me really threw me for a loop. Then I thought about what I had in store for him and his crew, so there was nothing between us except for,
An eye for an eye
.
***
I noticed I needed to get some gas for my car, so I pulled over to a Citgo gas station just two blocks away from the pay phone I used. To my surprise, I ran into Ricky’s daughter Fredrica and her mama. There was also another young chick with them, so I assumed she must’ve been a girlfriend of Frances. Especially from the way she was dressed. Knockoff clothing from the Koreans had them looking cheap from head to toe. But, I wasn’t gonna be nasty. I spoke, “Hey, Fredrica.”