Natural Born Hustler (6 page)

As he walked toward his whip, the smile vanished. What the fuck is this? All four of the brand-new tires on his truck were sliced. There was a note under his windshield wiper:
Life’s a bitch, then we die!

5.
Meet the Fam

It was a picture-perfect Sunday afternoon in Flowerville, North Carolina: the sky was a cloudless, brilliant blue, and children were playing carefree, as only the youth know how, enjoying the last day of the weekend in the clement 65-degree surroundings while mature red, orange and brown leaves clung to the only home they’d known, some falling from those very same branches onto green lawns, like uninvited guests to a Labor Day cookout.

The driveway was full, so Fame pulled over to the curb in front of his mother’s modest three-bedroom house. It was several decades old, like most of the others in the neighborhood, but well maintained. His mother, Francine, made sure of it; she took great pride in her home.

Desember sat next to Fame in the car, uncharacteristically
nervous. Fame gave her a pat on the thigh. “It’s going to be fine, boo,” he said. “They shit and wipe they ass the same as you.”

Actually the Marauders were one of the most, if not
the most
, infamous families in the small county of Flowerville. And they were as thick as thieves: if one got into a fight, they all fought. They had a reputation for anything illegal: murder, drugs, assaults, extortions—always finding themselves on the wrong side of the law.

The patriarch of the family was Felix Sr., who was on his nineteenth year of doing a 25-to-life sentence for killing a man with a baseball bat.

The story was that at the age of twelve, Felix Marauder, Jr. was already a little menace, on his way to being a young terror. One day he got caught blowing up one of his neighbors’ mailboxes with a cherry bomb. It just happened that this particular neighbor played on a rival softball team against little Felix’s dad, and they couldn’t stand each other.

When the guy found out who Felix’s father was, he made the mistake of telling Felix Jr. that his daddy was a no ’count bully full of hot air—Felix Sr. showed him a bully. According to the court documents the neighbor was more than sixty pounds bigger and a full six inches taller than Felix Sr. But the extra height and weight did him no good at the hands of the meaner mercenary, Felix Sr.

Once the prosecutors showed the jury pictures of the dead man’s head, split open like a melon, they dismissed any thoughts of letting Big Felix slip through the cracks with a self-defense plea.

After the incident, Felix Jr. decided he wanted to follow in his daddy’s bootprints. He got what he wanted. Six years later
the same prosecutor who convicted his father worked a case against him, and in the end, Felix was sentenced to fifteen years in the same maximum-security prison. They became cell mates—repping Flowerville and the family name.

“I don’t want to look like an outsider trying to get in where I may not be welcome. I know how close y’all are.” She knew how much family meant to Fame but was more concerned with how much Fame meant to her. She loved him so much and didn’t want his family to be the deciding factor in her being his wifey for real.

Fame ran his tongue across his bottom lip. “You just as much my family now as my blood brothers and sisters,” he assured her. “And don’t forget it.” Then he leaned in and gave her a kiss. “Now let’s go in.”

As soon as they walked through the door a girl who looked too much like Fame not to be related jumped up from the couch. They both had the same pecan-colored skin with cinnamon freckles all over their faces.

“This is my sister, Faith … this is my girl, Desember.”

Faith didn’t even acknowledge Desember, who was about to speak when Faith turned her back and made her way over to the kitchen. “Ma … Fame got a girl wit ’im.”

Desember wondered how she would act if she had a brother and he brought a girl home.
Damn, I would have at least spoken and tried to make her feel comfortable
, Desember thought. Just then Fame’s mother, Francine, came flying into the front room, hands wet, clutching a dish towel. She was about 5′6″ and apparently the donor of the skin tone and patch of cinnamon dustings her kids sported.

“That’s my mother,” Fame stated the obvious.

“I’m Francine, but people call me Fran,” Fame’s mother
said in a matter-of-fact manner—not too cold, but not too warm either.

With her hand extended, D said, “My name is Desember. It’s nice to have finally met you.”

Francine offered a hesitant handshake. “What type of name is that?”

“It’s the one that my mother gave me,” Desember said in the same cheerful tone, but it was a little harder to deliver. “It’s spelled with an
s
, not a
c
.”

“Oh …” was all Francine said, then, “Nice, I guess.”

These people are not making this easy, but hey, women never do
, Desember thought, but she didn’t waver.

“Yo two knuckleheaded brothers are in the den playin’ video games with they ol’ asses. Fabian … Frazier.”

“Where Frank at?”

“Taking a shit as always.” Then Francine called out, “Come in here and speak to your brother and his friend.”

The two brothers came lumbering from another room. One was about six foot, the other about 5′10″, the same skin and freckles as the rest of the family.

“That’s Fabian,” Fame said, nodding to the taller one. “And that’s my other older brother, Frazier. And this …” now talking to his brothers, “this is my girl, Desember.”

Fabian and Frazier both studied Desember, from her crisp new Air Jordans, up to her well-shaped thick legs and heart-shaped butt, which her skinny jeans made hard to miss, and settled in her intoxicating cognac eyes and slightly naughty smile.

“Damn, lil bro,” Fabian spoke up first, “I see you traded the chicken dinner for a bona-fide winner,” giving Fame a good-natured rub on the head.

“What you see in that dude?” Frazier teased, looking directly at Desember before shooting his eyes over to Fame, then back to her.

If possible Desember’s eyes got even brighter, body language exuding the core of its normal confidence. “That’s easy.” She beamed. Her pearly whites shone in contrast to her dark chocolate skin. “I see everything in Fame.”

Fame tried not to blush but failed.

“Ma,” Fame tried to divert some of the attention from him, “are you having a card game tonight?”

“Boy, I sell drinks and cut a card game e’ry Friday, Saturday and Sundays, don’t I? Or you done got so caught up in Ms. Thang you plumb forgot how yo’ momma be doing hers?”

Fame knew his mother was just taking shots at him because he’d pulled a no-show on the last few Sunday dinners, but that didn’t give her a right to disrespect his girl. He also knew that if he didn’t straighten it now, the possibility was very strong that it would spiral out of control.

“Her name is Desember, Ma … and I haven’t forgotten anything or anybody. Believe that. I just want everybody to treat Desember like family. She’s a part of me—that makes us one big happy unit. Ride or die!”

No matter if Francine and his sister never accepted her, Desember had never felt so proud of the way Fame stepped up to the plate for her.

“Excuse me, Ms.… I mean, Desember. Don’t mind me; I just like having a little fun,” Francine said, although D wasn’t convinced. “Let’s sit down and grab a bite to eat, and then y’all can help me get this place ready for this evening. You play tonk, Desember … with an
s
?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Nothing to it,” Francine said, smiling. “You’ll learn. You may drop a couple of dollars in the process, but you’ll learn, I tell you.”

“Somebody call Frank so we can eat.”

Faith went and banged on the bathroom door. “Frank, get off the toilet and come on, you holding us all up.”

Frazier yelled, “People hungry, man.”

“You heard dat Frank got jumped the other day, man?” Frazier asked Fame.

“Naw, I ain’t hear,” Fame said.

“Man, we gonna let him tell us dat shit over grub,” Fabian interjected.

They had a little small talk around the table as Francine set the food out. Then the bathroom door popped open.

“What the fuck that crazy bitch doing in my house?” were the first words that came out of Frank’s mouth.

He was the only sibling who didn’t inherit his mother’s freckles and pecan skin tone. He must have gotten his looks from Felix Sr. Frank was rocking a bandanna on his head, but she could see that he was trying to conceal a bandage on his forehead.

Everybody turned to him, dumbfounded. Faith spoke up, “First, this is your new sister-in-law.”

“She ain’t no fucking sister of nothing of mine,” Frank said, then immediately changed his tone, “Naw, this my buddy right here,” as he apparently thought about how he couldn’t let on that she was the attacker responsible for the bandage on his head.

Frank extended his hand to Desember.

She felt as though she’d seen a ghost. “Oh, my GOD, that’s the guy that shot up my car,” Desember said in a low voice to Fame, finally really getting a good look at him.

“You shot my girl’s car up?”

“Hell, yeah, that bitch mouth is too reckless,” Frank defended his actions.

“Not sweet little Desember, with an
s
not a
c
,” Francine interjected; she didn’t want her boys to spoil the Sunday dinner as they had been known to do.

“Yeah, that bitch is crazy.”

“She ain’t no bitch!” Fame stood up.

“She ain’t no lady either the way she was telling me to kiss her ass and how she would fuck me in the ass.”

“Whoa!” Frazier intervened.

“She jumped me. Her and three other niggas,” Frank lied.

“Frank, you shot the girl’s car up?” Faith couldn’t believe it.

“Man, this shit is crazy,” Fabian said with a smile. “And you let a girl beat you up,” he ragged on his brother.

“The bitch is the fucking devil, but one thing for sure: she’s one of us.” Frank smiled. “I ain’t mad at cha.”

“For a minute, I thought you won’t gon fit in with us,” Francine chimed in, now that the drama was subsiding.

“Frank, you gon pay for her car,” Fame said.

“Yeah, he gon pay for the car,” Frazier interjected. “He shot it up.”

“Fair enough, and I know a shop for her to take it to.” Frank extended his hand to Desember. “Truce? You got my respect. I don’t wanna be your enemy.”

Desember smiled, meeting Frank’s hand with her own. Her heart was now out of her panties. At first she thought it was going to get ugly.

Over dinner, Frank and Desember each gave their version of the prior events. Desember felt that everyone in Fame’s family warmed up to her, except Faith.

I can chop my food up
, Desember thought,
with the daggers this chick is shooting at me with her eyes. Family or no family, I’m going to have to keep my eye on this bitch!

6.
Showtime

Fame slowly tried to slip out of Desember’s arms and the bed without awakening her. But Desember had been wide awake for a while, thinking of how content she was laying up with her boo.

“I was hoping to lie around in bed a little longer,” she said, obviously surprising him. “Where are you off to this morning?” she asked, not ready to release his warm, hard body.

Fame took a sip from a glass of water on his nightstand. “I thought you were still asleep, not playing possum.”

“Possums play dead. I always feel alive around you,” she said, propping a couple of pillows against the headboard to sit up better. “You didn’t answer my question, though.” Fame never lied to her, but he would sometimes avoid a question to conceal the truth.

He sat naked at the side of the bed. “I got some business to take care of today.”

“You can’t spare a few more minutes?” She put her hand in his lap and flashed that mischievous smile of hers. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

After a tug or two, parts of him wanted to say the hell with it and jump back underneath the big down comforter, but his more intelligent half resisted the lure. The clock on the nightstand read 11:13
A.M.
Desember was still trying to work her magic on her man. The
decision
was rock hard.

“I may be a fool for it,” he said, finally making up his mind, “but I’ve gotta go. It’s going to take at least an hour to get to where I need to be,” he explained before giving her a soft kiss on the lips. “Rain check?” he suggested.

She pulled the covers off to reveal her naked body and lay on her side in what she thought was a sexy, enticing position. “A man can’t live off work alone,” she tried one more time, even knowing it would do no good; his mind was made up.

“Nor will all play put food on the table.” He wanted so badly to try to catch a few more snuggles with his boo, but his dedication to his hustle wouldn’t allow him to.

Fame got up and stretched, his manhood pointing north, and headed into the shower.

By the time he was dressed Desember had cooked him two healthy-sized bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches.

“You can eat one now,” she said when he walked into the kitchen, “and take the other one with you—if you like.” She was wearing a pair of boy shorts and a fitted wifebeater.

He thanked her and then wrapped both sandwiches in Reynolds Wrap and hurried out the house before he changed his mind about leaving.