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Authors: Nikki Turner

Riding Dirty on I-95 (21 page)

BOOK: Riding Dirty on I-95
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Mercy immediately slammed down the pay phone. She felt that at this point there was no reason at all to even argue with the lame. He must have gotten his people mixed up, because a thick chick she was. But she knew she was cute and had enough male interest to confirm that for her. She knew she needed to lose a few pounds and had even considered liposuction. But first, she had to worry about film school. She'd had a total of forty-five hundred dollars that Hyena had sent her for a partial advance for a run—that really wasn't shit considering she had bills and she had to eat—until Tay had convinced her to come out and spend time with him before he went into training. She had used some of the money to get a couple of new outfits and some sexy lingerie. She hated to pinch her money, but she couldn't go nowhere broke, and by no means was she a freeloader either. Not to say that she wasn't hoping that Tay would treat her like a princess, wine her, dine her, and take her shopping. But since Tay had paid for the first-class round-trip ticket, she wanted to be able to at least treat him to a dinner or two to show him that it wasn't just about his money, that it was about him as a person.

“Ma'am, are you okay?” a woman asked Mercy, who had tears rolling down her face. Mercy looked up. It was that same lady who had asked her about the cell phone on the tram. She handed Mercy a tissue and put her arms around her. Once she did that, once Mercy felt the comfort of a caring individual, she let it all out and couldn't help but cry like a baby. Once again she'd had her heart broken, and this time by someone she hadn't even met in person. People were looking at her like she was crazy, but she didn't give a shit. She felt like cussing all of them out.

The lady placed Mercys head on her shoulder. “Baby it's going to be all right,” she said as she helped her to the bathroom.

“What you looking at?” Mercy sobbed at a man who was staring at her. “You ain't never seen anybody cry before?”

Once they were in the bathroom, an airport employee who was in there cleaning the stalls asked, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” the lady answered for Mercy, giving the employee a sharp look.

“Okay,” the worker said as she continued cleaning the stalls.

Mercy couldn't believe how protective and comforting this stranger was, like she wished her mother had been to her. When Mercy was a child and needed comforting, instead of taking her in her arms to embrace her like a mother should, Mercy's mother was too busy running behind other niggas who were trying to conquer Nate's girl. Running behind them nothingness niggas, leaving her children in the house alone, led to those kids eventually getting snatched up by Social Services.

Mercy finally managed to get herself together. “Thank you so much,” she said to the lady.

“No problem,” she replied warmly.

“One favor deserves another. Let me buy you lunch?” Mercy asked.

She looked down at her watch and replied, “Okay. I'd like that.” She smiled.

“What's your name?” Mercy asked her.

“Kathy and yours?” she asked.

“Mercy.”

“What a different, but lovely, name. How did you get it?”

“During labor my mother kept yelling ‘Lord, have mercy’ every time she got a labor pain. She said I gave her the most pain during delivery out of all her children. She screamed ‘Lord have mercy’ and ‘mercy so many times that they ended up naming me that.”

They both laughed as Mercy looked her over for the first time.

I wonder what her story is
, Mercy thought as she watched her chuckle.

The woman was an average-looking dark-skinned lady with salt-and-pepper hair, medium build, and about five feet, seven inches tall. She had on wire-framed glasses and braces on her teeth. She was dressed in a conservative but expensive business outfit.

“Kathy where are you going? What's your destination, and what time does your flight leave?” Mercy inquired.

“Let's not talk about it. My flight doesn't leave for about three hours. They oversold my flight and rebooked me.” She shook her head, saying, “But such is life. And yours?”

“Maybe that's what I need to do. I need to go and rebook my flight,” Mercy suddenly thought and said out loud.

“Sure, we can do that first,” Kathy said, “and then try to grab a bite to eat, depending upon when your flight leaves.”

The next flight back to Richmond didn't leave for a while, so Kathy and Mercy had enough time to get something to eat. They got to know each other a bit over lunch. During lunch Mercy asked the waitress at the restaurant to plug in her phone so that it could charge while they sat and ate.

“What do you do for a living, if you don't mind my asking?” Mercy asked.

“I'm the vice president of a cosmetics company,” Kathy answered.

“Oh,” Mercy said, impressed. “How did you get such an important job?”

“I worked hard and didn't let a man ever stand in my way,” Kathy told her. “I grew up in the projects, and we didn't have a pot to piss in. But I swore I would never let the past keep me down.” She paused. “Now, I can tell some man is breaking your
heart, but you have to look out for yourself. Men will come and go. Don't be fooling yourself into thinking that one of them is going to take care of you. You better take care of yourself and don't let anything or anyone stand in the way of your dreams.”

“I won't.”

“Make sure you call me once you get your film off the ground. I would love for my company to do some item placements in your film, and an endorsement deal could also be possible.”

“I'm going to hold you to it,” Mercy said.

“I just hope that this gives you the incentive to reach higher for your dreams.”

After they finished their food, they exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch. Finally, Mercy was on her way home, but as soon as she gave the flight attendant her ticket, her cell phone started to ring. She looked down and saw that it was a private number.

“Hello,” Mercy answered as the flight attendant returned her boarding pass.

“Yo, what's up?” Tay's sexy voice said.

“What?” she immediately said with an attitude.
Damn this nigga got nerve.

“What's the deal?” Tay said as if they were the best of friends.

“What?”

“I'm going to come and get you and give you some of this good dick.”

“Nigga, keep that shit,” Mercy said, removing the phone from her ear and looking at the phone like it was a foreign object.

“Naw, for real. I want to see you. I was mad for a minute, but I'm good. I'ma work with you. I'ma help you get a trainer, and when you do lose that weight, I'll showboat you then,” he said. “Knowing I'm going to showboat you should be your inspiration.”

Mercy sucked her teeth and chuckled just a little bit, although
she was crying on the inside as he continued on. Kathy's words were still fresh in her ears. “You know you need me in your life. I can do a hell of a lot for your image, and I can make you into the person you want to be. Now, am I coming to get you or what?”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Mercy asked as she hesitated walking through the little tunnel leading to the aircraft.

“Naw, I'm trying to see you, so where you going to meet me at?”

A part of Mercy wanted to tell him to come and get her, but the words were stuck down in her throat.
You better take care of yourself.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “See you on the red carpet, motherfucker!”
Click.

Mercy closed her cell phone and made her way onto the airplane. Once she sat down, Mercy tucked her boarding pass into her wallet, buckled up in her window seat, closed her eyes, and waited for takeoff.

In spite of everything, today was still the first day of her new life. The day she began to focus on herself and what she had to do for herself, not what anybody else needed her to do for them. If she did decide to make moves, it wasn't gonna be because that's what a motherfucker needed her to do. From here on out, what she did would have to coincide with what she was trying to do to better herself. Whether it be money or opportunity, it was going to have to benefit her. No more free favors. From this moment on, she vowed to always keep in mind that life wasn't about being the flyest chick in the neighborhood or getting the flyest car. It was about a bigger picture: her future. The things she wanted out of life—getting a career, a home, her credit and her shit right. And she knew that in order to get to the plateau where she needed to be, she had to start stacking her chips. It was as simple as that. And on everything she loved and on her daddy's grave, she was going to do the damn thing!

CHAPTER 17
Fun-chu Fooie's … Every Hood Has One

C
leezy was a changed man, and everybody could see it. In the streets it was often said that respect couldn't be bought. However, Cleezy not only toted a big pistol, the word was out that he wasn't scared to use it, which caused folks to fear him, and fear produced what seemed like respect. Only a matter of months ago, it was money that had gotten his dick hard, but nowadays, being feared got him off. Whenever someone violated any of the rules of the game that his brother had given him, they had to be dealt with.

Cleezy sat in his car, listening as the phone rang while he was trying to reach out and touch Paula.

“Look, this isn't right,” he heard Paula say before she even said hello to him. “Hold on, baby” she spoke into the receiver before she went back to the matter she was handling. “I ordered a plain chicken breast, with nothing on it. I need you to fix this…. I'm sorry, boo,” she said, now turning her attention to Cleezy. “I'm trying to get this food right.”

“Where you at?” he asked.

“I'm over here at Fun-chu Fooie's. Where you at?”

“I'm 'bout to go handle this BI so I can make sure everything is in order before we leave out to go away in the morning.”

“Yeah, make sure you handle everything,” she instructed him, sounding excited about the next couple of days they would spend together, “because I can't wait to have you to myself.” She paused, and he heard her tell someone, “I don't want this. You went in the back and just wiped off the mayo and lettuce. I said plain. Please cook me a fresh one.” She then came back to her conversation with Cleezy “Boo, I went to Priscilla's and got us some toys, and we are going to have some fun in that hotel room. Shit, we may not even leave it.”

“Oh yeah?” Cleezy said, liking what he was hearing. “What we gon' do?”

Before she answered, Cleezy heard an Asian man's voice say, “$4.39 please.”

“What's the $4.39 for?” Paula asked the man.

“You total,” the Chinese man said in broken English.

“I already paid. I'm just waiting for a fresh one,” Paula responded in a calm voice.

“You order new, have to pay for new,” he said.

“No, my sandwich was made wrong, and not to mention that I had called it in to start with and had to wait when I got here. When I did get it, the sandwich was wrong. She goes in the back and wipes the dressing off and pulls the lettuce off and then tries to give it to me. I want a fresh sandwich, plain.”

“No, you pay, you get new,” the man insisted.

“I want what I paid for already,” Paula said. “Boo, let me call you right back.” She hung up, but a second later Cleezy's phone rang. He figured she had accidentally hit the redial. He got an earful of her conversation with the man. “Look, just give me my money back and I'll go somewhere else, because I've wasted thirty minutes in here and haven't even gotten my food.”

“No, no money back. Take this and go,” he said.

“I don't want that sandwich! I want my money back, and I'm
not going anywhere until I get my money back,” Paula said, now damn near yelling.

“Get out of my store. Get out now, bitch. Get out now!”

“Motherfucker, have you lost your mind? Not until I get my fucking fo' dollars and thirty-nine cents back. Give me my shit and I'll leave.”

“I call police,” he shouted.

“Go ahead and call them. But before you do, you better make sure them illegal aliens is the fuck up out of here. Now give me my fucking money before I report
y
o' ass to immigration. You better have papers on all thirty of them motherfuckers living back there and upstairs and shit. Now, give me my damn money back before you get yo'self in trouble while trying to call them on me.”

Cleezy could imagine Fun-chu Fooie pulling out that money so fast that it looked like a scene out of
The Matrix.
Then he heard the Chinese guy yell, “Bitch.”

“You can throw the money all you want, but remember what the fuck I said,” Paula said.

Cleezy was on the other end of the phone laughing his ass off.
I got me a real gangsta chick on my hands
, he thought.

“Get out, you ape,” Cleezy heard the Chinese man scream at Paula. He laughed his butt off an hour later when he drove by and saw how the kinfolks of Fun-chu Fooie were vacating the premises with their belongings.

BOOK: Riding Dirty on I-95
11.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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