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“I apologize for my son kicking your seat,” I heard a voice say.
I looked behind me and saw that the woman was talking to Zakiya. Zakiya flashed a big smile and let her know that it was okay. The woman was smiling too, and then her eyes landed on me. That smile that she’d just given Zakiya quickly turned into a mug once she and I were peering at each other. I was laughing to myself because her little ass really thought she scared some shit. I loved crazy bitches, and this one right her
e looked like she was right up crazy bitch’s alley. Hell, she was probably the leader of the damn crew.
She was probably pondering whether she wanted to curse me out or fuck me. I tend to have that type of effect on all women. Even women who take the strap and aren’t into men like that. Bitches had been calling me handsome since I could remember. I remember as a little boy, the women would tell my grandma how I was going to break so many hearts when I got older because of my good looks. When I was nine years old, I found myself wanting to grow my good grain of hair out and get dreads. That lasted until I was about twenty-six years old. Before I cut my dreads, they were way down my back.
My children’s good hair was all because of me. We lived in Miami, where it was hot year round this bitch, so I had to let go of the long hair. Now, I rocked a low cut with waves that were out of this world, making these bitches seasick whenever they saw me. Not even on some cocky shit, but I had good skin. My grandma was always putting me on to these black-owned products for my skin, which is why my shit had this golden look to it. I’d been growing my beard out for maybe the past five years or so, and it was full and healthy.
When I wasn’t cutting hair or taking care of my kids, you could catch me somewhere in the gym looking like I was training to be on someone’s NFL team. That’s why I didn’t know why lil mama was looking at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers like she could whoop my ass. I knew for a fact that I could pick her little ass up with one hand and toss her way across this damn theater if I wanted to. I had tattoos almost all over my body that I’d been getting since I was eighteen years old. Both of my kids took up the majority of my chest area, with portraits of them that were tattooed on me. I read some shit years ago about how a wolf is viewed in the animal kingdom as a bully, and because Bully was my nickname, I had a tattoo of a wolf on the outside of my right hand. My grandma hated these damn tattoos and talked shit each time she saw that I got a new one. The bitches loved it, though.
“Now, I apologized to your daughter, and I want an apology from you for being disrespectful to me,” she had the nerve to say.
I looked at the ring on her finger and saw that she was married. The second inference I was able to make was that she was backed up on getting her rocks off. Lil mama couldn’t possibly be getting fucked on the regular because she was standing here, willing to go toe to toe with my ass over something so fuckin’ minor. A woman who was getting fucked on a daily basis would have let this little incident slide, but she was keeping the shit going. She was pretty as fuck, though. Too damn pretty. So pretty, that I almost felt bad for talking to her the way that I did. Although her looks attracted me, I felt like that would probably be the only thing because that mouth of hers would easily get her ass fucked up.
“I apologize, lil one. I hope your ass knows how to fight because you can’t go around talking to everybody like that and expect to walk away freely. I don’t put my hands on females, but I don’t think that every nigga you run across going to be ass respectful,” I let her know.
She let out a sarcastic laugh, followed by her pushing a strand of her long hair behind her ear.
“This is what you call respectful? You know what, fuck it! Enjoy your evening, sir,” she said, and then she grabbed her daughter’s hand, who had been pulling onto her mother’s jacket for the longest and trying to get her to stop so they could leave.
I laughed while waving goodbye to her, knowing that it only infuriated her pretty ass even more. I hadn’t been turned on by a woman since ten years ago when I brought Breshay down to the trap house and saw how quickly she caught on to cooking up dope. Although I couldn’t stand a woman with a big ass mouth, that shit was sexy to see the way she was willing to stand up to a giant over her kids. She let me know right there what type of mother she was, which easily compared to the type of father that I was. Even with her son being in the wrong for kicking my chair, she was willing to go to war behind him.
“Daddy, she was so pretty. Can I color my hair like that?” Zakiya asked me the second we made it inside the car.
“When you turn thirty, you can. You’re right about her being pretty, but she almost caught these hands,” I joked, making both my kids laugh.
I didn’t too much dwell on the shit because I doubted she and I would ever run into each other again. She looked uptight as hell, so it was that I would run into her at half the places I frequented. Although I no longer lived in the hood, I couldn’t keep my ass from that side of town, and she didn’t strike me as the type of person who would spend her free time in the projects. Besides, what the hell could I do with her married ass anyway? Fuckin’ around with her and that slick ass mouth, I’d be in somebody’s prison being bunkmates with my ole boy.
4
Takari Evans
“Hello, I’m calling to speak with Mrs. Evans. This is the principal at Somerset Charter,” the voice said on the other end of the line.
I knew this couldn’t be good news as I breathed a sigh of annoyance while throwing my head back against the bed rest. I had my daughter, Jada, in my arms, who’d finally gone to sleep after keeping me up with her all night due to the bad cold that she was fighting. I hated for any of my children to get sick because as a mother, it worried me, so these past few days had been stressful as hell.
Jerrod left the house early this morning after letting me know that he had a very important meeting that he was putting together at the job, so like always, nothing came before work. Even last night, when Jada came into our bedroom crying about her nose being stuffed up and how hard it was for her to sleep because of the cold, that still wasn’t enough for him to get up with me and help tend to our daughter. It was me who had to get out of the bed at two this morning and lay with my daughter in the den as I tried my best to console her and make her feel better. Because Jaden nor Journey was sick, they both were able to get on the bus this morning and go to school. Just when I finally had a moment to close my eyes, I got a phone call from my daughters’ school. From the school principal at that.
I could just hear the disappointment in her voice, which let me know that this conversation wouldn’t be a pleasant one. This wasn’t the first time that the school had called about my daughter, but it was usually from one of her teachers, telling me how nasty my daughter’s attitude was toward them in class, or how she doesn’t know how to shut her mouth in class either. Journey wasn’t a bad child at all; I just felt like she was forcing herself to grow up, and that she wanted to be grown so damn bad.
“This is Mrs. Evans. Is everything alright with Journey?” I asked.
At the same time, Jada turned her head against my chest in her sleep. I soothed her back with my hand in an attempt to get her to stay asleep for the time being.
“Journey is here in my office right now. Apparently, she asked her fourth period teacher if it was okay for her to use the restroom, and after being gone for over ten minutes, she still hadn’t managed to make it back to class. I just happened to be coming back from my lunch break, and I caught your thirteen-year-old daughter in the hallway making out with a boy. We take these matters very serious at our school, which is why I felt the need to call you so that you could have a talk with her. The only consequence that Journey will receive for her actions today is an after-school suspension, so if you can find time in your schedule to pick her up at 4:30, that would be great,” the principal said.
I was shocked. Shocked beyond belief that this was what this lady was calling me for. I would have been more at ease if she was calling me to let me know that my daughter had skipped fourth period. The principal, Mrs. Vasquez, was a Spanish woman and as she told me the things that she’d caught my daughter doing, I couldn’t help but feel like she was judging me. Talking to me like I was one of those women who was raising a grown ass daughter.
“Put her on the phone. I want to talk to her for a second,” I let Mrs. Vasquez know.
I heard some shuffling around, and then Journey’s voice came through the line.
?
??Hi, Mommy,” she whispered.
“Don’t ‘hi mommy’ me, Journey! You might as well turn that phone off right now because I promise that you won’t be getting it back! What the hell is wrong with you? I do not send your little ass to school to be in the hallways kissing these ugly ass little boys! I send you to school so you can receive your damn education! You know what, I’ll deal with you later. I don’t even have the strength to do this shit right now!” I spat and then I hung up the phone.
