Crackhead II: A Novel (7 page)

Her eyes bucked momentarily, but the wad of cash didn’t faze Gloria.

“Wayne, I can’t move in with you,” she told him seriously.

“Why, Momma? I can give you everything you want and more.”

She looked back at her bedroom, then at her son. “It’s not about you anymore. It’s about me.” She lowered her voice and spoke again with authority. “I’ve done the best I could with you, but I can’t teach you to become a man. I know what you’re doing on the streets.”

“But that’s for us, Momma. I’m only doing this shit to take care of you!” Wayne shouted defensively.

“Watch your mouth, boy, I’m still your momma!” He calmed down and allowed her to finish talking. “That’s your way of life, Wayne, and this is mine. Let me live my life,” she said, pointing to herself. “Your momma will be just fine.”

Gloria’s eyes filled with tears. Wayne was her only child, but
she’d made a decision about her life: she’d rather be with any man than be alone. She began walking to the door, and Wayne followed her. He got the distinct feeling that she was trying to get rid of him . . . and she was.

Gloria opened the front door and a male voice called out from her bedroom, followed by three hand claps.

“Gloria! Bitch, get back in here now!” he yelled.

Gloria jumped at the startling request. “Bye, baby,” she told her son as she once again put her hand on his chest, forcing him to walk backward out the door. She took one last look at Wayne and closed the door.

Not only was Smurf furious, he was hurt. He had seen his mother get dogged out by men for as long as he could remember. Now, he was giving her the opportunity to live the life she wanted without a man fucking her and leaving her or beating her ass. Instinctively, Smurf reached toward his gun and thought about kicking the door in and killing the nigga who was in there calling her like she was some loyal dog. Then he remembered something she’d just told him: “Let me live my life.” Those words brought Smurf back to reality. She was right. He now understood that no amount of money that he gave her or his ability to provide for her would be good enough. His mother chose to be a whore and just like with him, her method of survival was her choice.

To take his mind off his mother, Smurf decided to go to the Jackson Projects and round up his soldiers. As he rested at a stoplight, he thought about all that had happened over the last couple of months. Right before the light turned green, a police car sped by him and Smurf’s radar went up. There was a familiar face riding shotgun, and if it was who he thought it was, there would be hell to pay.

T
WO HOURS LATER
, like old times, the three remaining South Bronx Bitches were sitting on the floor around Tonette’s dark cherrywood coffee table eating fried bologna sandwiches with mustard and drinking grape Kool-Aid. They were smoking bud and reminiscing about Crystal’s crazy ass, filling the air with laughter. That gave Tonette the opening she needed.

“Crystal . . . damn!” she said, somberly. “I still can’t believe this shit.”

Quietness surrounded them and Monique put her hands up to her face to block out the painful memory that clouded her mind.

“It’s been almost two months and the shit still all over the streets,” Shaunna confirmed, rubbing her big belly. “What the fuck she doing carrying a gun around like it’s nothin’, anyway?”

Both Tonette and Shaunna looked at Monique.

“I don’t know what y’all looking at me for.” She smacked her lips, rolled her neck, and looked back at them with bucked eyes as big as saucers.

“Weren’t you with her?” Shaunna asked, trying to get up off the floor to sit on the couch.

“Yeah, but shit, I ain’t know what was up. We was goin’ to the show,” Monique said truthfully. “Dink’s ass called her, wanting her to make a run for him.”

“A run?”

“Yeah. Wanted her to take something to that nigga, Stoney.”

“Stoney?”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck he give her?”

“Girl, I don’t know. Shit. What’s with all the questions?” Monique raised her voice.

Tonette was getting pissed that Monique was getting loud. Everyone in the crew knew that Tonette had the last word, and when she was onto something it was best to be seen and not heard. Most people would be fooled by Tonette. She had a small frame, a toffee-colored complexion, and the soft smile of an angel, with white teeth that rivaled her light-gray eyes. Even though she looked like Vanessa Williams when she wore her long, relaxed hair parted down the middle, her girls knew what was up. She could be a straight-up bitch—the devil’s liveliest advocate—and she didn’t hesitate to spew her venom on anyone who crossed her.

“What you mean you ain’t know?” Tonette challenged, looking Monique dead in the eye.

“Like I said, I ain’t know,” Monique retorted sharply. She was now pissed.

“If you ain’t know shit, why you tell the police I gave her that gun?”

“Aw shit,” Shaunna said under her breath as she looked at Monique, who stood up just in case something kicked off.

“I—I ain’t say shit!” Monique stuttered.

“You a goddamn liar!” Tonette’s herringbone chains, door-knocker earrings, and gold bangles made a symphony of noise when she quickly hopped up from the floor. “Why you tell them muthafuckas I did that? They came to my crib, searched it, and then told me not to go too far,” she yelled. Tonette was ready to kick off in Monique’s ass. This would be the test. She knew if Monique didn’t fight back, she was guilty. If she did fight back, she’d have to find out who else could have dropped the dime on her and they’d get dealt with. She knew it wasn’t Shaunna, because she had been down with her ever since the shit happened.

Tonette didn’t give Monique a chance to answer before she clocked her like a nigga, knocking her down on the floor. The two began to tumble, scream, scratch, and bite—a true catfight at its best.

“Goddammit!” Shaunna screamed when she saw that Tonette was getting the better of Monique, who was trying to fight back. Shaunna figured that Monique couldn’t defend herself the way she normally would have, considering she was still fucked up from being shot.

Shaunna maneuvered her way up off the couch and attempted to break the two girls up, all the while protecting her unborn baby. “Break this shit up, y’all!” She got in the best position she could to pull Tonette off Monique. “Damn girl, stop!” Shaunna yelled at the top of her voice. Monique took the opportunity to get off the floor when Tonette stopped trying to claw her eyes out.

“Fuck that heifer,” Tonette growled. “You wanna run your fuckin’ mouth, I’ma give you something to run it for.” She lunged at Monique again, but this time Shaunna stopped her, becoming disgusted. They all used to be so tight and never made a move
without each other, but now she saw the breakdown of their friendship right before her eyes. She didn’t like what they had become.

“You trippin’, Nette!” She looked at Monique. “And what about you, Monique? I know you ain’t runnin yo’ damn mouth, and for what? Hell, we done worse shit before and they ain’t fuck with us.” There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the air. “Look . . . we the South Bronx Bitches and nothing can come between that. I ain’t tellin’ y’all to kiss and make up, but damn, one of us is already dead. We gotta stick together. Y’all need to squash this shit before somebody else get hurt!”

Tonette and Monique were still breathing heavily, like pit bulls after a dogfight, and glared at each other with evil looks.

“Let me go!” Tonette broke free of Shaunna’s grasp and started pacing the room. Her mind ran a mile a minute. Everything that could go wrong in her life had. Then suddenly, the smile that she saw in her dream came back into focus.

“It’s all that bitch’s fault!” Tonette snarled.

“Who?” Both girls asked, startled by her sudden outburst. “Crystal?”

“Naw!” She looked at them in bewilderment, and then shook her head. “That bitch, Laci!”

“How you figure that?” Monique questioned.

“If it wasn’t for her stuck-up ass, none of this shit woulda happened.” Tonette paced again. “We gon’ find her ass and when we do—”

“Hey . . . hol’ up Tonette, you trippin’,” Monique finally spoke up. She’d already been tired of Tonette blaming everything on Laci before, but now this was over the edge. She looked at Shaunna, but Shaunna looked indifferent.

“What?” Shaunna questioned Monique.

“You don’t feel bad for what happened to that girl?”

“Um . . .” Shaunna hummed, “no.” She rubbed her belly. “We had to have something to do in the summer.” Shaunna laughed like she had just told a funny joke.

“You got that right,” Tonette cosigned.

“We ain’t make her do anything. Now, if that bitch layin’ up in a crack house on her own funky mattress tweakin, shoo’ . . . that’s on her.” She gave Tonette a high-five. “Mo, seriously though, you need to get over it and move on,” Shaunna said.

“I can’t believe you!” Monique yelled to both of the girls. “That shit was foul, y’all.”

“Girl, get the fuck on!” Tonette said, attempting to dismiss Monique. “This about that bitch Laci.”

“It’s not just about Laci, Nette. My life been fucked up because of drugs, man. My mother was fuckin’ with a goddamn addict, got HIV and died.” Monique wiped her now wet face with the back of her hand. “And you, Shaunna, you keep on getting knocked up by these niggas out here who slangin’ that shit and ain’t benefiting from it, damn!” She turned to look at Tonette. “Nette, too many people got hurt behind your little game. Not only is Crystal dead, but shit, Laci could be too.”

“Look, I’m sorry about yo’ moms and all, but I ain’t have nothing to do with that shit. Everybody know not to fuck an addict,” she said without emotion, “because they fuck anything, but what the hell you care about Laci for? She thought she was better than all of us, and that includes you too.”

“Damn, Tonette! She was, so what?”

“What the hell you mean, so what? She ain’t have no right judging us or what we do!”

“And you had no right turning that girl into a goddamn crackhead!”

“Me?” Tonette huffed. “Bitch, you knew it was Crystal’s idea, but I guess because it was her idea, you were cool with it, huh? You knew what was happening just like the rest of us and you ain’t do shit to stop it, so you just as much to blame.”

Monique got tired of hearing Tonette’s mouth. She shook her head in disgust and limped over to the couch. Instinctively, she rubbed her still-wounded leg as she gathered her things.

“That’s right, get the fuck out, you fat-ass bitch,” Tonette taunted as Monique walked toward the door.

Weight was always a sore spot with Monique. Although she was pretty and brown-skinned, Monique was ghetto-girl thick and designer clothing rarely fit her, but she squeezed her ass into what she could. The girls always joked that she was gonna have recurring yeast infections because of how tight her shit was hemmed up. Monique didn’t care, though. With her clothes and good looks, nobody could have told her she wasn’t fly. Her signature hairstyle, huge, gold, shoulder-length box-braid extensions that she wore in a high ponytail, just topped off her package. She even carried a lighter to get rid of any fly-aways and she always kept the ends burnt.

There had always been a friendly competition between Crystal and Tonette because they were both slim, trim, and fly. They always rolled with the niggas that had bank, but Monique made up her niggas.

Monique could take certain things off of Crystal, though, because they were the closest. More like sisters. Crystal had always told her she was going to say something to Tonette about the way she talked about Monique, but that time never came. Now she was dead and Monique was left to fend for herself.

Monique stopped momentarily. She couldn’t believe that Tonette had talked to her like that, but then again, she could.
Ever since the SBBs were formed, Tonette had the final say-so on everything, including real talk. Monique was surprised that Shaunna had her head so far up Tonette’s ass, because she talked about her like a dog.

“Bitch, if my leg wasn’t fucked up, I swear, I’d kick your ass.”

“Come on, I’m right here,” Tonette confirmed with her hands raised upward. “Yo’ leg ain’t got shit to do with you not being able to kick my ass. Yo ass just fat and can’t keep up with this right here.”

Tonette ran her hands up and down the sides of her trim, lean body.

“I’m not gonna argue with you, Tonette.” She looked at Shaunna. “You comin’?” she asked, ignoring Tonette’s challenge. Monique looked at Shaunna, then back at Tonette.

“Monique, quit trippin’. All this shit ain’t necessary. It’s over and done with. Just forget about it.”

She couldn’t believe that Shaunna would stay.

“We the SBBs, baby. Me, you, Tonette, and Crystal. Even though she dead, but that’s the way shit goes.”

Monique shook her head sadly, in disbelief. “Be careful,” she said to Shaunna, “you know what she capable of.” She nodded toward Tonette.

“She a SBB heifer. We got each other’s back. But I know one thing: if you walk out that door, you gonna be worse off than that stupid bitch Laci ever was,” Tonette warned.

“Fuck you, Tonette, and everything that you stand for!” Monique yelled, slamming the door behind her.

I
T HAD BEEN
days since Smurf had seen Gloria. Although upset with how she’d decided to live her life, Smurf couldn’t turn his back on his mother. He was the only one that she had, and he didn’t want to abandon her.

Pulling up to her building, Smurf looked at the front window of his mother’s apartment. “I wonder what she’s doing in there,” he said to himself. He had a feeling she had a man in there, but he didn’t want to believe it.

After sitting in his car for twenty minutes, Smurf got out and decided to go see his mother.

“I wish she would have moved with me,” he said to himself as he walked up the stairs. The apartment building was so worn down, he wondered if it was a safety hazard.

Reaching the third floor, he walked slowly toward her apartment, 311. Smurf’s heart began racing, not knowing what to expect. Out of common courtesy, he raised his hand to knock on the door.