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I hadn’t seen or heard from this nigga since the night he came by, and I gave him the free haircut. Now that I thought about it, I wondered if his ass even had a job interview the next day in the first place. The thing about me is that I peeped a lot of funny shit that Marco had done over the years, but because that nigga was damn near a brother to me, I chose to play naïve to a lot of shit, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t onto to him.
“I been telling you since you were a little nigga to watch out for that snake. Your ole boy used to tell you the same shit. We not regular men, Bully. We the type of men who grew up in environments that were so fucked up and lifestyles that we wouldn’t wish on anybody, but even with all of that, we were schooled on a lot of shit from the ole heads around the way. You are your father’s child, so you have to be able to pick up on a snake before you even give them the chance to sneak up on you.
“I remember when the two of y’all were little niggas and just some of the snakish shit he would do. Remember the time when the both of y’all were caught stealing in that corner store when y’all were about thirteen years old, but somehow you happened to be the only one to go to juvie for it? I wonder why that was? What about the time the two of y’all decided that y’all wanted to start selling weed and y’all were supposed to meet up that night at a certain location, yet when you get there, it was niggas there waiting to jump your ass, and that nigga, Marco, was nowhere to be found. You think shit like that happens because of a fuckin’ coincidence?
“One of the saddest days of your life was today and ask yourself where that nigga was. Downstairs, on a fuckin step, selling weed bags for five dollars. Do better, little nigga, and cut that fuckin’ snake out your corner before it’s too late,” Buck said and took a pu
ll from the blunt before passing it to me.
Listening to him preach to me, I swear he sounded every bit of my ole boy. The two of them were so alike sometimes that the shit was scary. Usually, I didn’t care for people preaching to me and trying to tell me what to do, but I knew that Buck meant well. He loved me like I was one of his own, so I knew he would never steer me in the wrong direction.
He and I sat outside, and I caught him up on things that he didn’t know about since he no longer lived in Miami. Luckily, my grandmother had come outside and given us both big plates, that he and I quickly swallowed down. While he was talking, I pulled out my phone just to text Takari and make sure that she was straight, and she assured me that everything was alright.
“Who’s the shorty that you walked in here with?” Buck asked.
I already knew that shit was coming. I wouldn’t say that the nigga was nosey or no shit like that because I was used to him being this way, especially when it came to the ladies. Back when I first started fuckin’ a little something, this nigga would be in my ear more than my ole boy about making sure that I was strapping up and not fuckin’ with set up ass bitches. I always thought his ass was too overprotective or that he thought too much into certain shit, but it wasn’t until a nigga got older that all the shit he tried to warn me about as a little kid was actually real.
There were really bitches out there who were professional set up ass bitches. They preyed on niggas with money, so they could get him back to the hotel, only for their nigga or whatever nigga was in control of them to rob the man. I’d heard one too many stories about that in Miami, so it made sense why Buck was inquiring on Takari.
“We cool. That’s all that is,” I let him know.
He laughed at what I said while setting his plate by his foot since he’d just finished eating everything on it.
“Alright, well you just make sure that while y’all cool, you get shorty a gun, some mace, shit, maybe even a knife because I sat in the middle of the church today at the funeral, and every bitch that you fucked wants your shorty dead. Mannn, them bitches were pissed. I heard one bitch say that she was going to pistol whip shorty. Man to man, I already know that you fuckin’ with that woman in some type of way because niggas like us, we just don’t bring a woman to a place where our family lays their head, especially not your damn grandmother. You love that lady like she birthed you, so shorty has got to mean something to you.
“When you do decide that y’all are more than just cool, you better make it where you not out here giving these hoes the same shit that you giving her. Meaning, keep your dick in your pants, little nigga! I watched your father cheat on your mother for years, and I’m telling you now that nothing good comes from that shit. Your mama used to be fighting in the streets over your daddy. Bitches stayed jumping her, keying her car, all of that. You had all of them bitches mad in the church today, so if that’s going to be your shorty, you better do a damn good job at protecting her. She already small as hell, so they going to automatically assume that they have one up on her. Andddd she pretty, so her ass probably can’t fight worth shit,” he joked, and we both laughed.
“Don’t let that little shit fool you, man. Shorty can talk big boy shit, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she can beat a bitch ass too. She talks way too much shit to not be able to fight. First time I met her, she called herself trying to check me, so I knew from there that she wasn’t a punk because I’m not the type of nigga who gets talked to like I ain’t shit on a daily basis.
“I’m not worried about no bitch running up on shorty either because the first one who does decide that she wants to grow some balls and touch her, by the time I make an example out of her, all of those bitches are going to go into hiding, and that’s on my kids,” I let him know and meaning every word.
We sat outside for at least another hour just chopping it up. While we talked, the front door kept opening and closing from people leaving, and shortly after, Buck and I wrapped it up as well. He was flying back home to Alabama in the morning but promised me that he would be back in a few months.
When I walked back into the house, I looked in the kitchen and saw that both Takari and my grandmother were in there cleaning it up while talking. They were so wrapped up in their conversation that they hadn’t even realized that I was standing there looking at them. I allowed them to have their little moment while I headed for the back where my old bedroom was. I kicked off the dress shoes and pounced the bed, lying on my back. Both of my hands were behind my head, and I could feel myself about to doze off after about thirty minutes of lying there, but the room door opened, stopping me from falling asleep.
Takari stood there looking at me for a few seconds, and then she closed the door behind her as she made her way over to me.
“Your grandmother is a trip. She reminds me so much of my mom,” she said, followed by a smile. Then she sat down on the side of the bed right next to my feet.
“I’m pretty sure she was in there talking shit about me too. I want to know everything. What all she said?” I asked, looking down at her.
Hearing her laugh when I asked that only confirmed that my grandma sure as hell was down there talking shit. I’m not going to even lie, Takari’s laugh was contagious as hell, so I found myself laughing along with her.
“Nothing bad. She loves you so much, I know that. For the first fifteen minutes or so, she grilled me the same way that I’m sure I’m going to drill any girl that my son ever brings home. Of course, she told me how she had to take you in when you were two years old because of your parents going to prison, but I knew that already from you telling me. She also let me know how you’ve been through a lot, so I have to take my time when it comes to you because of the hurt that you’ve been through, but I knew that already too. She wants me to come over again, so we can talk, but I told her that I would have to ask my friend first,” she said, trying to be funny with the friend word, but I wasn’t paying her ass any mind.
“You told her how we met? Let her know all that shit you was talking before you found out that I was the realist nigga that you ever met,” I cockily boasted, and she rolled her eyes like I was talking nonsense.
“She knows about you being an asshole to me at the movie theater. What makes you think that you’re the realist nigga that I ever met? How you know that I haven’t stumbled across niggas better than you?” she asked me.
“The fact that you would ask that proves to me that you haven’t. If you met a nigga realer than me, sweetheart, then you wouldn’t be in here with me right now. You’d probably be somewhere with him. I know I’m the realest nigga you ever met without you even having to confirm that shit. I had your green ass grinding all on my dick and kissing on me without even having to beg you for it. A lame nigga couldn’t walk up to you and ask you to do that and you’d agree to it. It’s certain credentials that a nigga has to meet to get a woman like you to do certain things for him,” I said and shrugged nonchalantly, like I knew that what I was saying was facts, so it really didn’t even need any justification.
“I had been drinking before you bought me the drink at the bar, so that had a lot to do with it,” she had the nerve to lie and say.
I laughed, while pulling down on the bottom of my beard, just examining her ass.
“That’s the best lie that you could come up with? Why you can’t give a nigga his props when their due? I complimented you twice already today. I told you that your outfit was nice, and I called you fine. Give me my props, shorty,” I told her.
She just waved me off, refusing to agree to the shit that I was talking about. Little did she know, I didn’t need her to agree. The fact that she was there with me, proved to me that I was that nigga.
