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“Niggah-coon, boom! You can beat ya’self to death, then go bury ya’self and see the inside of the grave. I’m done fuckin’ you, Vernon.” He wants to know why we ain’t work out. “Niggah, that ain’t no mystery. ’Cause you ain’t shit. You don’t wanna hold down a job, ya ass ain’t got good credit, and you don’t take care of ya goddamn kids.”
“Fuck outta here. I take care of all’a my kids, Cass. It ain’t always about money. I spend time wit’ ’em. That’s more than I can say for some niggahs wit’ kids who they ain’t beat for. Least I wanna be in my kids’ lives, even if I can’t always give money. But yo. You gotta lotta nerve, yo. What shit you got?”
“Niggah, what you mean, what shit I got? I gotta truck, a house, and my GED, niggah.”
He laughs. “Yeah, a truck some niggah bought ya ass ’cause it ain’t some shit you could ever afford on ya own, and a house you rentin’. You on section-eight actin’ like you doin’ it big. How ’bout you buy ya own shit. Own ya own spot, then pop shit. And, yeah, you got ya GED. Good for you, baby. But, you ain’t doin’ shit wit’ it.”
“Niggah, you crazy. I ain’t gotta do shit with it. The fact is, I have it. And what the fuck I wanna own a house for? I ain’t tryna lose my section-8. You dumb as hell.”
“Yo, whatever. Let me get some pussy, Cass.”
“Uhhh, how about this: Let me give you the dial tone.” I end the call. Another call comes through. It’s Da’Quan “Hey, boo.”
“Wasssup, Ma. You aiight?” I tell him yes. “I got the money you sent me. Thanks. It came right on time.” I tell him as long as he does well in school, I’ma make sure he gets that gee a month. But if those grades drop to C’s or he fails a class or flunks outta school, then he’s on his goddamn own. “Ma, c’mon. You ain’t raise no dummy. I got this.”
“And I ain’t give birth to no ugly niggahs either.”
He laughs. “Yo, Ma, you shot out. You got all my boys here on you hard. They stay all up on my Facebook page starin’ at ya flicks.”
I laugh with him. “Mmmph, well, I can’t help it if ya momma gotta lotta back and good black don’t crack. I was wonderin’ why I kept gettin’ all them friend requests from Howard niggahs. But you know I ain’t accept ’em. Well, I can’t even if I wanted to ’cause I got too many friends up on there already. So they gonna have’ta subscribe to my page.” He keeps laughin’, callin’ me a hood celebrity. I don’t tell him that his boys are all followin’ me on Twitter and Instagram. Big Booty got them followers, boo.
“Ma, when you comin’ down here to see me?” Although I know I told him the last time he called that I’d be down there in a few weeks with his brothers, I keep gettin’ sidetrack with other shit. I tell him I’ll definitely be there one weekend next month. “Aiight, cool. But I wanna come home for da weekend. I spoke to Darius last night and told him to make sure he keeps his eyes out.”
“Why? You know he still ain’t talkin’ to me. And that niggah know he ain’t ’posed to go this long without speakin’ to me. I can see a few days or even a week, but two weeks is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, I know. But he’ll get over it, like we all do. Still, you could call him.”
“I did. And he ain’t return my calls. And you know I don’t do no beggin’.”
He sighs. “Ma, you still should apologize. You and Day’Asia was dead wrong.”
I frown. “Oh, so now you tryna do me, too, huh, Da’Quan? Darius had no goddamn business punchin’ his sister out like that. I don’t give a fuck if she was lumpin’ him up. You don’t do that. And now you wanna defend him. Niggah, boom! You wanna bring it, too, huh?”
“Aiight, Ma, chill
. Ain’t nobody tryna bring nuthin’. I’m sayin’. But, whatever. That’s y’alls shit. All I care about is if you aiight. I got at Big Mike and told him to keep an eye on you, too.”
I blink. “Boy, you actin’ like somebody done sent you my death notice.”
“Ma, real shit. I keep thinkin’ sumthin’s gonna pop off and you gonna get hurt; that’s all. I want you to chill for a while. Don’t be hangin’ down at the bars so much wit’ all them niggahs, aiight? And don’t start frownin’ ya face. Do it for me, Ma.”
I smile, suckin’ my teeth. “Niggah, puhleeze. I ain’t frownin’.” Of course it’s a lie and he knows it. Still, I ain’t gonna front. Hearin’ Da’Quan talkin’ like this kinda got me worried ’cause this boy don’t never call tryna do me. But I play it off. “Boy, stop. Ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen to me and niggahs on the streets not gonna handle it. You know I got a team of goons always on alert, and always ready. All I gotta do is press the panic button and it’ll be fireworks all through the streets and you know it.”
“Yeah, I know, Ma. Still . . . I’ma come home this weekend to see for myself. Maybe I should transfer to a school closer to home.” I tell him no. Tell him to keep his ass right where he is. That I don’t wanna hear that shit. I promise to go see him in two weeks instead of next month as long as he keeps his ass there. He sighs. “Aiight, Ma. But if you ain’t here in two weeks, I’m comin’ home. I’m too far away to keep an eye on thangs.”
“Boy, that’s what Darius and Jah—well when his ass ain’t in the county—are here for. You worry about finishin’ college. Let ya brothers worry about the streets, boo. And you know ya momma can handle herself. I’ma Brick City bitch, and you know we don’t take no shit.”
He laughs. “Yo, Ma, you shot out; for real for real.”
“Yeah, niggah, I know. Listen, boo. You and Marquelle gonna be somethin’ great one day, you hear me? Hell, y’all already are. And I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to me so I can’t see my babies graduate. You my first baby to go away to college, and Marquelle gonna be my second. I ain’t missin’ that for shit. Dead or alive, ya momma’s gonna be there with tears in her eyes. Oh, and a new handbag and goddam bangin’ heels ’cause I’ma serve ’em up right when I step up in there, goddammit. Yes, boo, I’ma do ’em up right. Now get on up off this phone.”
He tells me how much he loves me and appreciates me. And I know he does. I know all my boys do. Mmmph. It’s that damn Day’Asia who don’t ever appreciate shit. She ain’t been tryin’ me lately, but I’m ready for her ass when she does. But I ain’t goin’ there ’cause then I’ma get pissed and wanna fight her ass again.
We talk a few minutes more, then disconnect. I take a deep breath, then slowly exhale. He got me thinkin’ now. What if someone does try ’n do me. Hatin’ ass bitches are scandalous. And ain’t no tellin’ what a nutty-ass niggah might do. I feel a tightness in my chest.
I call him back. “Boo, if somethin’ does happen to me I want you to make sure you finish school no matter what. I want you to sell all my handbags, heels, jewels—oh and my minks. I don’t want Day’Asia slidin’ her stank-ass in my shit ’cause she ain’t ready for no high-end wears. You can do whatever you want with the money, okay?”
He is quiet on the other end.
