Payback Is a Mutha (21 page)

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Authors: Wahida Clark

Tags: #Psychological, #Psychological fiction, #Fiction, #Urban Life, #African American women, #Female friendship, #African American, #General, #Short Stories

BOOK: Payback Is a Mutha
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Here it was damn near seven hours later and Nyla had tears in her eyes as she headed back to her home. All she wanted more than anything else in the world was for her man to come home. She felt defeated and all of her effort was in vain. She had been parked several blocks down from the prison, anxiously waiting to see the look on Shan’s face as she drove by in handcuffs.

But all she got after the longest wait of her life was a phone call. Her contact in the DA’s office told her that Shan never showed up. She had called in and accepted an offer to work at the new FCI in Victorville, California.

 

As for Shan, the last pick up she did for Forever was just that; the last pick up. She turned that package over to her brother who had come home the night before. That was his
come-up
. They stayed up all night packing and saying good-bye. Peanut didn’t want her to go but she had to get a new start.

Shan hugged her big brother for the last time. She jumped into her ride and headed off. If he knew of the stop that she was about to make he would kill her himself.

When she pulled up on Brianna’s block, police were everywhere; also an ambulance. She slowed down, rolled her window down and asked a young girl what was up.

“Yo, that chick who drives that pimped up Lex blew her brains out in it. Yo, that shit was just like on TV! She fucked that ride up! Blood, brains, and shit was everywhere!” the young girl said excitedly.

Shan rolled her window up. The bag that she had
packed for Brianna she threw in the backseat. She took one last look at her town house and the Lex and headed for the West Coast.

She came to the conclusion that everyone had a hustle; that’s why you can’t knock nobody’s.

 

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“Enemy in My Bed” from SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

K
reesha had just finished fluffing up her king-sized pillows when she heard her doorbell ring. She looked at the clock on her nightstand, which read 8:49
A.M.
She peeked out her bedroom window and saw a high-yellow sista wearing a white Nike sweat suit and sneakers. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she looked agitated. With her hand resting loosely on her hip, she rang the bell again.

“Fuck!” Kreesha said out loud. She cracked her bedroom window. “Who is it?”

The young lady looked up to where the voice was coming from. “Are you Kreesha?”

“Yeah,” Kreesha answered with much skepticism. “And you are?” She blazed at her, even though she had an idea who this chick was.

“I’m Sparkle. Reign’s wife?” she said more as a question than a statement. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She was staring at Kreesha, daring her to say no.

“What do you need to talk to me for? Don’t you think you need to be talking to Reign?”

“Oh, trust and believe I’ve already spoken to Reign. Now I need to talk to you. Can I just have a couple of minutes? We’re both adults here.”

Kreesha paused before slamming the window shut. “Wifey!” she mumbled under her breath. “I knew it was coming but I am not up for this shit today!” She grabbed a robe and went into the bathroom to make herself more presentable. As she washed her face, brushed her teeth, and applied a little makeup, she griped, “This bitch is on my porch, on my time, so she is going to have to wait.” She spoke into the mirror as she played in her hair. “Wifey,” she mumbled again as if she didn’t believe it and headed out of the bathroom. She grabbed the can of mace from her purse and slipped it inside her robe pocket.

When she got to the front door she paused before peering out the window to see if wifey was still out there waiting and to make sure she was alone. She wasn’t about to get jumped inside of her own home. There was a white-on-white Acura Legend parked there, but no one was in it. “I can take this bitch,” she concluded.

Kreesha opened the door and was ready to do battle. “How in the fuck you know where I live?”

“Bitch, please, I said I was wifey, it’s my job to know!” Sparkle was staring at her all crazy.

“Ho, it’s your job to say whatever the fuck it is you gots to say and get the fuck off my property! Bitch!” Kreesha was fingering her can of mace, itching to use it.

Sparkle held her ground, staring at Kreesha as if she couldn’t believe what was before her eyes.

“I know you don’t think I’ma invite you in for cookies and milk! Whatever you gots to say you can
go ahead and say it!” Kreesha was trying her best not to pull out the mace.

“Whatever,” Sparkle finally said. Seeing that her competition wasn’t going to make this easy, she decided to get straight to the point. “Reign will be getting out in a few days. And as you know, we are married and have been for the last three years and obviously throughout his whole bid. I told him that you was just an infatuation, something to do to help him pass his time while doin’ his bid. But in a few days whatever business or fun you was having with my husband will be over. Oh, know this boo, once he gets out it’s a wrap!” And she turned to walk away.

Not wasting any time with her comeback, Kreesha yelled, “Bitch, let me enlighten you a little! You can choose to believe that it’s a wrap, but it’s not. Obviously you don’t even believe that shit since you took the chance of bringing yo’ dusty ass over to my house talking some bullshit, half-ass, and inaccurate information. I mean, he may be married, but I can guarantee you that being infatuated is not in the equation.”

“Oh, you don’t think so?” Sparkle asked as she turned back around to face her. “What do you call hooking up with some nigga in prison on some penpal shit? And sneaking down to see him when you know that his wife is not going to be there? Face it, girlfriend, it’s all an infatuation. You’re just someone he’s using to pass the time. Thanks for the car, bitch! But like I said, he’s taken. The man is mines. It’s over!” Sparkle turned and headed toward her car.

“Bitch, it ain’t over until I say it’s over! You’ll see!” The next thing, Kreesha was running off of her
porch in a rage when halfway down the stairs she stumbled and skidded the rest of the way kissing the ground. Full of embarrassment she peered up at Sparkle, whose gaze was dripping with disgust. When she got to the Legend, Sparkle had already locked the door and was starting the engine. “Nah, bitch, get the fuck out, bitch. You was bold enough to come over, get the fuck out.” Kreesha was ready for war.

Sparkle cracked her window. “You dumb ass sucka for love! You ain’t worth it. If you hadn’t of bought me this car, I probably would have fucked your ass up. But I wanted to thank you personally for this and just on GP, I ain’t gonna run yo’ fat, stupid ass over!” She gassed the engine and pulled off.

Kreesha went back inside and slammed her front door so hard the iron fell off of the ironing board. She was pissed as she paced back and forth, not wanting to believe that the bitch had come to her house and was bragging on the car. She picked up her phone and pressed the memory button for her cousin Eboni. When the voice mail picked up, Kreesha paged her, then headed to swoop the iron up off the floor. Her phone rang, and she ran into the dining room to get it.

“Eboni?” she spat, completely out of breath.

“Yeah, what’s up? And why you all outta breath? Never mind, don’t answer that. I’m on my way to Wal–Mart.”

“Can you stop over here? You’ll never believe what bitch just left!”

“Since I won’t believe it, then why the fuck should I guess. What bitch, Kreesha?” she snapped impatiently.

“Reign’s wife. The bitch’s name is Sparkle. The
skank-ass ho had the nerve to come to my house. My fuckin’ house, Eboni! Can you believe that shit?” she yelled into the phone. “That bitch! That motherfuckin’ ugly-ass, high-yella bitch!” Kreesha was so heated she was foaming at the mouth.

Eboni held the phone away from her ear. “Look, Kree, you knew this day was coming. You also know if the shoe was on the other foot, you would have been at that ho’s house your damn self! You fuckin’ with a married man. You know what time it is. Fuck that bitch! I know you gonna keep doin’ you. So why you sweatin’ the dumb shit? As long as she ain’t beat your ass, then who gives a fuck?” Eboni had to laugh at the thought of Kreesha getting her ass whupped.

“Oh, so now you got jokes? You know she ain’t beat my ass. It’s just the principle of the whole thing. The bitch showed up at my front door telling me to leave her man, which is also my man, alone. And bragging about that corny-ass Legend. How the fuck she know where I live? You wait until that nigga calls!”

“Yeah, because that is who you should check. Because he’s supposed to have her in check.” Eboni was hoping to get off the phone without Kreesha again asking her to come over. “He’ll be calling you soon.”

“Whatever. I sure ain’t gonna sit around waiting for that nigga. I am not in the right frame of mind. I might say something I’ll regret later.” Just then the other line clicked. “Be ready tomorrow. It’s BBD day. I might call you tonight.” She clicked Eboni off the line and checked her caller ID. It was Reign.

THUGS AND THE WOMEN WHO LOVE THEM

“T
hank you very much, Ms. Thompson, and please come again.” The saleswoman smiled, shaking Angel’s hand eagerly before she handed her three Wilson’s Leather boutique shopping bags and a receipt.

“No, thank
you
,” Angel replied. “And I’ll be sure to tell all my friends about your store.”

As she headed to the door, Angel turned to look at the woman, and she had to laugh. The salesgirl had picked up a calculator and was furiously punching in numbers, obviously calculating her commission on the $4,400.00 purchase Angel had just made. Too bad she had no idea that the check Angel had written was from a stolen checkbook, and the account had been closed for months. So Angel walked out of Wilson’s with three big shopping bags filled with lots of items she would sell and a few for herself.

This was Angel’s hustle to keep cash in her pockets. Going to law school was no easy task. It was a full-time job in itself. Trying to work
and
study just
didn’t work for her at all. There was no way she’d be able to finish school a semester early with a full-time job. She had to do one or the other, so she chose school. She’d already managed to get her bachelor’s degree in three years. Now her goal was to graduate the same time as her homegirls: Roz, Kyra, and Jaz.

Angel did some window shopping on the way to her car. Oxford Valley Mall was the perfect place for Angel to run her game. The clerks were cordial and all the stores were very check friendly. She assumed the stores must have had some good insurance because she and every other hustler she knew had been wearing them out. Still, she knew her good luck couldn’t last forever in this place. That’s why she’d decided that after tonight she wouldn’t be back. The last time she was at Oxford Valley she wrote almost $12,000.00 worth of bad checks. She planned on doing about the same tonight, if not more.

The merchandise she got from Wilson’s would easily sell for between $1,800.00 and $2,200.00. Her fence, Rashid, usually bought all of the handbags and jewelry she could bring him. Way back, she and Rashid had been a couple, until Angel found out that she wasn’t his only woman. Actually, she was one of three women who Rashid had scattered throughout the city. They’d only been involved for about six months, so it wasn’t that tough for Angel to break things off. She still kept their business relationship open, though. After all, he was the best fence around, and she was looking forward to collecting from him after tonight.

Angel spotted a tennis bracelet in the window of Zales that she couldn’t resist, but the Wilson’s bags were starting to hurt her arms. So she decided to put the bags in her car and then come back for the bracelet.
She had just squeezed onto the escalator that led to the first floor level when she noticed a woman staring at her from the up escalator. Angel did a double take as they passed each other. She realized the woman was a clerk who worked at one of the perfume counters at Macy’s. Apparently, the woman remembered her, too.

A damn perfume clerk!
Angel laughed to herself. Why couldn’t it at least have been a jewelry store? Somewhere that she’d bilked for thousands of dollars instead of a couple of hundred. But when she looked up, Angel wasn’t so amused anymore.

The tall, skinny clerk had stepped off the escalator at the second floor and was motioning to one of the mall’s toy store cops. Angel was glad she had on some flat shoes. She stepped off the escalator and walked fast, in search of the nearest exit that would lead to her parked car. When she glanced back, she saw that the skinny clerk and a toy cop were on their way down the escalator. Angel got a firm grip on her bags and took off running.

“Excuse me! I need to catch my bus!” She was loud but polite as she swerved in and around the several crowds of people standing around the food court. “Sorry! Pardon me!” she apologized as she bumped a little boy in the head with her bags.

Angel ran right past the bus that was picking up the mall passengers. “Fuck!” she screamed as she realized that her car was parked way around the other side of the mall. She felt like crying, but she kept running. Her fingers and arms were burning from the heavy bags she was carrying. A red van provided a place for her to hide behind, to catch her breath and see where the toy cop was. She went to the edge of the van and peeked around. A meddling shopper
was standing next to a toy cop—she was pointing in her direction.
Goddamn Good Samaritan!
Angel ducked down and was moving between the parked cars as fast as she could. She had broken into a sweat.

“Shit!” she yelled as she set off a car alarm on a silver BMW. She stood up so she could run even faster. Behind her, the toy cop was fumbling with his radio, trying to talk into it and chase her at the same time. She was glad that he was fat, because he wasn’t moving very fast.

“Where’s my fuckin’ car?” She was trying not to panic. Her fingers and arms were now in super burn mode. The thought that she left the driver’s side open for reasons like this one soothed her a little bit. A spare ignition key was stuffed in her bra.

I’d be a’ight if I could just find my damn car now!
She thought.

Toy cop was trying to gain on her.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Lord!” She spotted her green Honda Civic. “Fuck!” She breathed out fire when she saw orange dice hanging from the rearview mirror. “That’s not my car!” She ran faster.

“Come here! I just want to…talk to you!” Toy cop barely got out those words.

Angel ran faster. She spotted another green Honda four cars over. “Please forgive me, Lord, for cussing. Please let this be my car!” This time she looked at the license plate. “Oh, fuck!” She had stolen tags. She noticed the strawberry air freshener hanging down and smiled. “That’s my car.”

She didn’t even remember opening the door and stuffing the bags onto the passenger seat. She only knew that she had to start the car. She put the car in reverse. When she backed up, she hit a station wagon.
Another Good Samaritan was performing their “civic duty” by blocking her in. Angel rolled the window down and screamed.

“Move the fuck outta my way or I’m gonna knock your doors in!” She rolled her car window back up just as toy top grabbed the door handle and tried to open the door. Luckily it was locked. He started banging on the window and calling for help on his radio. Angel ignored him. She backed up again into the station wagon. This time the Good Samaritan was cursing as he moved the station wagon out of Angel’s way. Toy cop was banging on the hood, commanding Angel to stop as she finally backed out of her parking space and floored it. She headed to the nearest exit, prayed, and thanked God for helping her out of that close call. If she got busted, then her man Keenan would know what she’d been up to—not to mention her mom. She couldn’t afford for that to happen.

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