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Authors: Edd McNair

BOOK: A Hot Mess
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And through conversations overheard by Tanika and Joy, they found out that their dad had slung dick all over New York and had about nine kids.
When it somehow leaked out that he had left two of his baby moms $50,000 each, things got crazy. Joy's mom left Brooklyn and went straight to VA with her sister. Queen and her mom went to Connecticut, but within two years, they were in Norfolk living with Joy's mother.
 
 
Sadness crept over Joy's body as she thought about Tiesha, who was still in Brooklien. Last she heard, Social Services had taken her kids. That dope had her gone real bad.
Chanel had come down with HIV and was one of the baddest bitches in Brooklyn, hanging in the clubs, getting niggas' money anyway she could and giving them a real package in return.
But the tears filled Joy's eyes when she turned the page and saw Queen on her wedding day. Queen was Joy's maid of honor and had taught her so much, gave her so much strength.
 
 
Growing up in Brooklyn, their mothers ran the streets hard, in search of love and fun. That left Queen and Joy alone many nights. Queen was tall and thick, and Joy was short and thick, so sex came into the picture early. At 10 and 11, boys 13 and 14 was sexing them in the building somewhere. Nobody was there to stop them from being grown. They began to realize that the guys would buy them shit and give them money, with just the chance to get with them.
By the time they were twelve, their game was tight, and them fifteen- and sixteen-year-old niggas was coming off, because Queen and Joy was the shit.
Then overnight Queen was in Connecticut, and Joy was in Norfolk. Joy's mom stayed with her sister for a second out Tidewater Park, but the tight squeeze of Joy and her brothers, plus her aunt's three kids, made Joy's mother get their own apartment quickly.
That's when they ended up out Oakmont North, in the Norview section of Norfolk. And Joy would take Norview by storm.
 
 
Joy flipped the page and smiled again. Malaina, Joy, Buffie, Stacy, and Scheri, with “The Oochie Coochie Girls” written at the bottom of the Polaroid. She began laughing out loud.
She got up to go get her wine from the loft. She saw her grandson, but not Quandra.
Why she leave him on the couch?
she thought, as she lifted him with her free arm while holding her wine and glass in the other. She took him to the bedroom and put him down. She kissed him and rubbed his head then walked out, leaving the door cracked.
That's when she realized Quandra was gone and had left the bag by the front door. She went and got her phone and dialed Quandra's number, just to get her answering machine.
“Yo, this Q dog. If you my peeps, leave a message and give me a sec. If you not, I got the four pound for ya—You wants no part of this Brooklyn bitch! Now hang up,
faggot!
”
Joy looked at the phone, disbelieving her ears.
“Q, I got shit to do in the morning, and I'm out at eight. Don't make me fuck you up!” She hung up and made her way back to her room.
Joy poured herself some more wine and turned back to the photo album. “The Oochie Coochie Girls,” she said, thinking out loud. She looked in the mirror, stood on her bed, and did the Oochie Coochie dance. She laughed so hard, she was out of breath.
She looked at Malaina and herself, the only two who had gone from size eight to size eighteen. Malaina lived in Oakmont North also, her and Scheri, who was from Atlanta.
Malaina's peoples were from Bed-Stuy.
That's why we got so tight, and still tight
, she thought.
Both big, both from Brooklyn.
Then she looked at Buffie, who now went by Gwynn. Then at fourteen, size 10, body tight. Eighteen years later, and three kids, Buffie still a size ten, but much more mature.
Stacy joined the Army and had been, for eighteen years, stationed in Fort Sill, Oklahoma, and she never came home. The only one that ever heard from her was Gwynn.
Then Scheri got real sick after her second child. A tumor grew on her brain and had to be removed, only to leave her unable to do for herself. Thank God for Mrs. Wessonly. She was a godsend. She left her husband, moved in with her daughter, took care of her child, and raised her grandchildren.
CHAPTER 2
Damn!
Joy thought, giving herself a mental note to stop by and see Scheri. She flipped the page, and the best times of her life flashed before her eyes as she stared at the picture of her and Minke, Malaina, Wiz, Queen, and LeMar.
 
Joy had just turned fifteen. Her and Malaina were coming home from Norview High School when Wiz and LeMar rolled up on them in a new Z28.
Wiz was in the military and had just come home and got his new car. He was on Malaina as soon as he saw her. She tried to shoot him down, but he was so silly, they couldn't stop laughing.
He parked his car and walked with them for about twenty minutes, trying to convince them to go to a cookout with him and his friends. The girls finally agreed, then walked and joked with him back to his car, where LeMar sat patiently.
“Can you go get my cousin?” Malaina asked. “We were on our way to see her.”
“Sure. Where she at?”
“Turn down there. She live in Wellington Oaks.”
When Queen came out, LeMar's eyes lit up like a child's at a circus. Joy and Malaina were fifteen, but could pass for eighteen, but Queen was taller, darker, with long, thick hair, and her moms allowed her to wear makeup. All that, plus her thirty-six-D's and big, wide hips, made most older guys ignore her age and slight belly.
“How old are you?” LeMar asked.
“Twenty-two,” she said easily, letting it roll off her tongue like it was the truth. “Why? How old are you?”
“Twenty-one, and my man Wiz, twenty.” LeMar turned his head to Joy and Malaina. “What about y'all?”
“Eighteen, graduating in June,” Joy said.
“Nineteen. Supposed to have graduated last year.” Malaina smiled. “But you know.”
They all started laughing.
When they arrived at the cookout, Wiz had Malaina's attention, and she was enjoying herself as he joked, laughed, and entertained, keeping her close to him. And Queen had plenty attention coming her way.
Joy watched as most of the men eased their way to her, realizing that the perfect size eight wasn't what always got attention, but rather the ability to talk, flow, and flirt with the best of them. So even though Joy's body was tight and her light brown complexion, long hair, and natural beauty gave her an exotic look, as if she was mixed with something, she let it be known her peoples were as black as they came, but were just blessed with enhancing features. Not to mention, she still had the New York attitude and hadn't yet met the country nigga who could break it.
Joy had fucked with three niggas since being in VA. A nigga from Norview who was getting it with coke, a dude from Chesapeake into counterfeiting—she never trusted his money, so that fell short—and then D-Nell from Lake Edward. All these niggas paid like they weighed, straight hustlers, but Joy had started catching feelings over that Beach nigga, D-Nell, until he caught that murder charge and disappeared out her life. Since then, nobody had come close.
Joy sipped her wine and flipped the page. A feeling came over her body that she hadn't felt in a long time. It was from the sight of Minke with his arms wrapped around her the night of the cookout.
 
 
That day Joy remembered, she sat watching her sister Queen work the crowd. She sat up straight with her drink in her hand in her white tee, snug Levi's and new white kicks. She was about ready to go, until she heard four dudes coming in the backyard, one yelling, “Brooklyn.”
She turned her head to watch the people show love. Two of the guys looked kind of grimy, but Minke and his boy Hitler were dressed in new shit, with jewels on from neck to wrist. She checked their style and felt back at home. She scanned the crowd and saw Queen talking to LeMar. Then she caught the dude who was reppin' Brooklyn coming her way.
“What up, ma? My name Minke,” he said, with his hand out.
She looked into his low, slanted eyes, which he tried to hide behind the navy blue NY Yankee fitted that was pulled real low. She caught the white teeth, full lips, shadowed beard, and was instantly feeling this six foot one, skinny-ass nigga.
“Alecia. Nice to meet you, Minke.” Alecia was her real name, and she used it with a nigga she liked.
“Damn, girl! You took my fuckin' line.”
“Come with another one then. Been down here too long. Losing your edge. Unless”—she turned her head—“unless you one of those fake New York niggas.”
“What you mean, ma?” Minke asked, admiring her style and sassiness. “Where you from?”
“Brooklyn. Flatbush,” she said proudly. “And you?”
“Fort Greene. I am Brooklyn, baby, born and raised.”
“So what got you in VA? I know this shit slow to you.”
“Yeah, but I'm in school here. I came down here to go to Norfolk State. I'm a junior.”
“So, if you go to school, why you looking like you running the city,” she said with a smile.
“Come on, ma, I just told you I'm a Brooklyn nigga. I'ma get it if I got to rob and steal,” he said with a slight grin. “Just like Uncle Murda.”
“Who?”
“Maybe you been down here too long.” Minke laughed.
“And who rolling with you?”
“You now. I came here because my man had something to do with it.”
“Well, me and my cousins was asked, so we rode out here with Wiz and LeMar.
“Yeah, Wiz my man. So what's up with you, Alecia?”
“Tell me, Minke,” she said with a smile.
“Let's go walk on the boardwalk, hand in hand, and act like we on Coney Island,” he said with a bright, irresistible smile.
She looked at him with slight disappointment on her face. “I can't just bounce with you like that.”
“Why? Tell me why, and I'll make it good. I want you to roll with me. I'm feeling you, for real.” Minke looked at Alecia with a serious face, shaking his head and licking his lips.
“I got my sister and my cousin. We don't leave each other,” Joy said seriously.
“We can all go, ma. You straight. Let me introduce your girls to my son. Yo, H, come here.” Minke signaled his man.
Queen and Malaina had seen Minke talking to Joy, and soon as he called his man, Queen eased away from the other cats and was making her way over to Joy. She had learned a lot about niggas in her young years, and two on one was not about to happen.
“So what's up, Joy?” Queen asked, coming up beside her sister, staring at Minke and his boy.
“This is Minke and Hitler,” Joy said, pointing at the dudes in front of her. “And this is my sister Queen and my cousin Malaina,” she said as Malaina walked up.
“We all out in a few.” Joy looked at Queen. “We gonna ride down the beach.”
“Who the fuck these niggas? And we going where?” Queen asked in her hard New York accent, so they would know she wasn't from down South.
“Hold your mouth, ma. Watch when you speaking to a gangster.” Hitler smiled, revealing his gold teeth. “Don't let the smile catch you slipping.” He stared at Queen.
Queen never blinked as she stared back into Hitler's eyes. “No, don't
you
let the young faces fool ya. We seen your game, we know your game. Don't take us for one of these country-ass VA bitches,” she said without smiling. “And I ain't smiling, so you know that it ain't a game.” She kept staring Hitler down.
“This ain't a game. We just wanna chill, create some fun. Niggas ball like that all day,” Minke said, looking at Joy. He was trying to ease the shit-talking between Queen and Hitler before it escalated to an argument. He was feeling Joy and spending some time with her was his mission.
“We gonna holla at my mans and them then we out. All of us,” he said, hitting Hiltler and walking off.
They watched as the two stylish niggas walked off.
An hour later, Minke walked towards the gate to exit. He looked over at Joy and Malaina, and signaled for them to come on, pointing his fingers to the front.
Queen had started talking to some other guy. When she saw Joy and Malaina going to the front, she looked over to see Minke, Hitler, and the other guy that came in with them standing by the front gate. She signaled to her sister that she was coming, allowing her new friend to talk.
Hitler looked at Minke with a look of confusion and smiled.
“Where you from, son?” Minke asked, smiling.
With that, Hitler walked over to Queen and whispered in her ear, “We out now.” Then he leaned back and stared in her eyes.
“I said I—”
“Your conversation is done,” he said. “This is my girl, duke,” he said turning to the dude she was talking to. He looked back at Queen. “And I'm not smiling, so that you know exactly what it is.”
“Nice meeting you,” the guy said, extending his hand to Queen.
Hitler pushed dude's hand down, looked at him, and placed his hand on Queen's waist. The guy moved on, and Queen walked towards the front.
As they walked out to the front, Queen looked at Hitler as they approached Minke. “I ain't your girl,” she said, staring at Hitler as he approached his burgundy 325 BMW with the slight tint, wearing New York tags. “Don't you ever do no shit like that again.”
“You are my girl. Now get the fuck in the car, before you end up in the trunk,” he said, opening up his door and getting in.
Minke started laughing as he hit the alarm on the pretty canary-colored Milano.
“Nigga, you done lost your mind,” Queen said, opening the door to the BMW and getting in.
Malaina and Sizemo jumped in the back of the BMW. “Guess we rolling over here,” Malaina said.
“Glad of that, the way this man talking,” Queen said seriously. Then she looked at Hitler as he started the car. He stared back at her. “So how many bitches been in your trunk?” She smiled.
“I don't know. Got to count the blankets in the back, see how many left.” Hitler smirked, pulling off behind the Milano.
Joy looked at Minke as he drove the foreign car and leaned back like he was the coolest nigga, in complete control. “So, your boy was just joking, right? My sister hard as they come, because we've been through some shit, but she's been through much more. Take a special type dude to get her attention.”
“She all right. He like her. They just got to feel each other out,” Minke said. “Now tell me about yourself, Alecia.”
“What you wanna know?” she answered softly, wondering what he was trying to pull out of her.
“Just want to know who you are. I'm feeling you. We only talked a little, but I'm looking at you like I'm gonna lock your ass down.” Minke glanced at her.
Alecia smiled. She was already feeling him. All he could do was enhance the feeling or totally fuck it up—no in-between. She began talking as they hit the interstate, headed to the oceanfront.

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