After about ten minutes, they both came out. Curtis looked less tense, and Unique looked downright calm. He had on a wife-beater, basketball shorts, ankle socks, and slippers. Unique had on a colorful kimono, the kind Mama used to wear when Mr. Ralph would visit.
Sinclair wasn't stupid. She knew what had happened, and it made her sick to think of Unique using her body to beg for a man's love.
“And, boy, you ain't gonna do nothing but let the police do their job,” Curtis said, rocking Marquis's head as he walked past the couch on his way to the kitchen.
Unique rushed ahead of him and began scrounging up food from the fridge. Her chubby daughter Cammie was quick to respond to the sound of rattling pots.
“Go on now, Cammie,” Unique said, trying to sound sweet and motherly, yet firm in directing Cammie out of the kitchen.
“But I'm hungry.”
Unique said, “I know. Everybody is andâ”
“I'm not,” Gina, Unique's other daughter yelled out.
“Well, you gonna eat what I cook,” Unique snapped in Gina's direction.
“I want a cookie,” Cammie whined.
“No! Now go on.”
Sinclair could hear the tension in Unique's tone. Cammie was overweight. Her stomach was always tight and round. She was going to have weight problems for sure. She loved to eat, but she was only nine and it'd be a while before it mattered. At least, that's what Sinclair thought. But then again, even at seventeen, Sinclair was a stick, compared to Cammie.
Cammie began to cry.
“Shut up, Cammie! Shit!”
“Mommmmyyyy, Cammie's crying,” Apple tattled.
Unique buried her face in her hands.
“So, Sin,” Curtis began, moving far from the kitchen commotion to the living room where she was, “I hear you got gang trouble.”
“Ain't no gang blew up Big Mama's house,” Marquis interjected.
“What choo know about it, foo?” Curtis snapped.
Marquis was a firecracker, always looking to challenge somebody. “I know you ain't calling me no foo, nigga,” he growled, sitting down the joystick for just a second.
“Marquis, show some respect.” Unique was now standing in front of him.
The tension was broken when Marquis jumped up and stormed out.
Unique called out, “Marquis!”
Curtis stopped her before she made it out the door behind him. “Let him go. He tryin' to be a man. You gotta let him.”
Unique jerked away from his grasp. “He ain't a man, he's my son!”
“Yeah, like you ever let me forget that!” Curtis slammed the door after storming into their bedroom, yelping and cussing on about Unique and her
son
. He returned momentarily fully dressed. Propping his foot up on the arm of the sofa, he tied the laces of his work boot.
“Curtis . . .” Unique folded her arms, as if holding in what was left of her pride.
“Bye, Sin. Hope them niggas that blew up yo' mama's house get the chair,” he said, before storming out the front door the same way Marquis had just done.
The apartment grew instantly silent, so silent that Unique looked around as if to say, “Oh nah, all y'all loudmouf niggas is quiet. Well, too fuckin' late.” Then she stormed into her bedroom.
The night was long, and many things ran through Sinclair's mind as she lay in Unique's bed beside her. The main scene that played over and over in her mind was the sounds and sights of the house flying off its foundation. Each time the house blew up, she could hear the haunting screams of her mother, a sound she'd never heard her mother make before.
Sinclair was finally tossed awake. She wasn't sure if her older sister was asleep, with all the things that could be on her mind too, with Curtis leaving like he did. But if she wasn't asleep, it would make sense, considering Apple and Gina were in there with the two of them. If nothing else, the bed was full.
Sinclair was little when Unique moved out, but not so little that she didn't remember the house being full of Unique's kids. It wasn't bad, but then again, Mama was always tense. It was as if she was afraid that she might follow in Unique's footsteps. But Sinclair had other plans. They hadn't all come together yet, but having babies wasn't one of them.
“No, sir, buddy.” Sinclair's thoughts escaped in a whisper, as she slid out of the crowded queen bed and onto the floor, where she could stretch out.
Apple seemed appreciative and smiled in her sleep, quickly moving into her warm spot.
The nights were cool in the bay, even in the summer time. The weather hardly ever broke a hundred degrees, but that didn't mean it was a comfortable temp in this room.
Not with all these bodies up on you
, Sinclair thought, feeling miserable and sticky.
Sinclair could hear Marquis moving about in the living room, slamming the bathroom door, clicking on and off lights. She thought he was probably playing a video game. She glanced at the clock. It was way after midnight. She could have sworn she heard the front door close.
Sitting up quickly, she glanced at Unique, who hadn't budged, and then slowly got up and crept quietly into the living room to see what was what. Sure enough, Marquis was gone. He'd come in not too long after Curtis left. It was almost as if he had been watching, but no matter. He came home, they had dinner, and the evening simmered down. It was funny how quickly things could look like normal again.
Tuesday morning, Sinclair got up to the smell of breakfast cooking. She quickly jumped to her feet and headed toward the aroma. She'd not eaten a real meal in a long time. Thank God for McD's and the one-buck meal deal though, or she'da been dead these last coupla weeks, with no check and no food stamps.
Damn, that Tanqueray!
Marquis was on the sofa playing a game as if normal, and Sinclair paused to catch his eye. She wanted to let him know that she knew he'd been out the night before. But Marquis just sucked his teeth and continued playing his game, unconcerned about what she may or may not know about his nighttime activities.
“I got to go to the welfare office today,” Unique announced, filling plates with food. It must have been her recertification day, because she was cheery and wide-awake. And fully dressed too, as if she'd been out already.
“You want me to watch the kids?” Sinclair offered.
“No. I gotta take them. They always make me bring them in when I re-cert.” Unique avoided Sinclair's eyes.
Sinclair wasn't going to ask any more. It was clear, from the way Unique moved around the kitchen serving up food as if on her first day working as a waitress, that she wasn't in the mood to talk about it.
“Come on, Marquis, eat,” Unique said.
“I'm not hungry,” he answered over his shoulder.
“Come on now,” Unique begged, dropping her shoulders. She looked instantly tired and worn out, as if this was a regular battle.
“Don't worry,” Marquis said, “I'll tell them you fed us this morning. I'll tell them you prayed over the table, and we all ate together in love andâ”
“Mama, you gonna pray over us?” Gina asked now.
Unique, her lip curled, moved away from the table. It was as if she didn't want to hear her children's voices anymore.
“I'ma get ready to leave in a little while, so what I was saying was, you gonna have to make sure about the door, if you leave. Don't be leaving it unlocked.” Unique pulled the skillet into the sink and then wiped her hands on her apron. “If you leave, you just gonna have to wait for me out on the step. I don't be leaving my apartment open.”
Sinclair caught her eyes as she moved past her and saw so much in them, more than she could understand at that moment. Sinclair felt tense inside, uncomfortable. Maybe she had never really seen Unique as a mother, and watching her now left her feeling awful. What a waste of her young lifeâfour kids at twenty-three years old. Sinclair thought about her life. There was no way in the world she wanted it to turn out like Unique's. Maybe this was why she had been so guarded, so protected. But now her walls of safety were gone
.
Around two or three that afternoon, Sinclair, while sitting on the steps out front of the apartment building, spotted Finest coming up the street in a Cadillac Escalade. He was driving slowly and spotted her.
She bounded off the steps and ran out to the driver's window, not showing at all that she noticed he wasn't riding around looking for her. Truthfully, how could he know she was there?
“What? You living over here now?”
Sinclair gushed. “Wow! You ain't neva lied. You got a car.”
“Yeah, baby. I told you I did. You thought a nigga was lyin'?”
Actually Sinclair hadn't thought anything more about Finest's words until this moment. Aside from Malcolm, who'd already said he would come to see her and which he hadn't done yet, she figured she'd have to put the
P
in the back of her mind for a while, at least until the house was rebuilt.
“Well, no, butâ”
“Then get in. I know you wanna go for a ride.” He pushed the button that unlocked the doors.
Sinclair grew instantly excited. Looking back at the apartment building, she remembered leaving the door unlocked, but she didn't feel like running up those five flights or waiting on that slow elevator. Besides, she wasn't about to miss this opportunity and would surely be back from this ride before Unique got home. It was bad enough she had to be in this neighborhood, let alone stranded in it, sitting on the curb. Then again, what did Unique have that anybody could want?
Climbing in the Escalade, Sinclair then noticed the two other guys in the backseat, who were way past faded, and the once muted music she'd heard while standing outside the car was now blasting E-40 at high decibels.
“Heeeey, shawty,” one of them said.
Sinclair waved, only to see Finest look in the rearview mirror and suck his teeth.
“Don't be trying to get at my girl. Just sit the fuck back and mind yo' business.”
Sinclair was shocked at his possessiveness.
“That's So-an'-so,” Finest introduced before she could ask. He added, “He's a foo.”
A dark hand crept through the middle of the bucket seat, and Sinclair looked at Finest, waiting for his nod before shaking it.
“That other nigga is my 'cuz, Floyd. You know him, Malcolm's brother.”
Finest held up his hand for dabs, and Floyd rose up in the back and quickly caressed Finest's fist in a manly greeting, but didn't touch Sinclair at all, not even a handshake.
“So, you're
the
Sinclair. You my li'l brother's wet dream.
Yaddamean
?” Floyd cackled nastily.
Finest grinned, exposing his diamond inlay.
“What?” Sinclair knew what a wet dream was, but she'd never pictured herself as star material for one, especially not Malcolm's.
“Nud'n. That foo's crazy. Been locked up for a minute. Don't know nud'n from nud'n.”
“Whatever, man . . . telling all my business, puttin' me on blast like that,” Floyd responded. “But, fo' real, didn't y'all's house blow up yesterday?”
Sinclair's stomach tightened. She was on a fast track to forgetting, and this fool was bringing it up.
“Where are we going?” she asked Finest, ignoring Floyd's rude comment about Malcolm's private matters, and questions about her personal business. Sure, it was an explosion, but it was still none of his business.
“Gon' get crunk!” So-an'-so yelled out, bucking and hollering in the backseat.
All of them started laughing, except Sinclair.
“Hey, man, we oughta go by ol' girl's house,” So-an'-so said.
“Ohhhh shhhhhit! Yeah! She would see new girl riding shotgun and go off, with her ugly black ass,” Floyd said. “Ain't nobody wanna be her baby daddy,
hearrrrr
?” He gave a loud holler.
Finest snickered wickedly, again looking in the rearview mirror as if the guys had said too much. “Nah, ol' girl is outta da picture,” he said quickly and then patted Sinclair's hand that rested in her lap, giving it a squeeze. “I like what you got on,” he said in a low voice, reaching over and touching her bare skin that showed through the side straps of Unique's halter-top, the one she borrowed without Unique's knowledge. He tugged slightly at the G-string on her thong that showed above the turned-down rim of the low-riding sweats. “Yeah, I like this.”
She was a little taller than Unique but thinner, so it all worked out in the length, but she had to roll them at the waist to keep them up. The thong was the only underwear in Unique's drawer that still had the tag on it. They were sisters, sure, but sharing panties wasn't gonna work. She'd repay her as soon as she got a job, or Tanqueray gave her back the money she stole!
“Got my dick hard as a muthafuck.”
So-an'-so hollered, “Aww shit! Yeah, got my dick hard too, brothaman. Ohhh, I wonder if Malcolm knows his girl over here handing out boners.”
Sinclair wasn't sure she liked what he said, or what any of the boys were saying. She looked deep in Finest's eyes for protection. Surely, he would stop them from saying all this mess. Malcolm had never said anything like this to her before. Sure, he liked her, but as a friend. These guys wanted more. She knew that.
Sinclair figured one day she would get a manâevery girl didâbut right now, today, she wasn't trying to get caught up in no train or nothing. She thought about Tanqueray.
What would Tang do or say right now
? But nothing came to her.
Just then, the familiar scent of cannabis came from the back of the vehicle.