Two Thin Dimes (11 page)

Tameer pulled to his apartment, driving his straight-off-the-show-room-floor, bright-red, 2008 Shelby GT 500 Convertible Mustang.

The temperature outside was close to freezing, so the car's white convertible top was up. However, the resounding bass notes from the car's MACH stereo system could be heard clearly outside of the vehicle. Smiling broadly, Tameer honked his car's horn several times.

Savion opened the front door to the apartment, and looked outside in time to see the car's power window sliding down slowly.

“Tameer! You got down?” Savion knew that his brother had started selling drugs. It was the only obvious answer.

Shaking his head and smiling, Tameer exited his brand-new car. “You know better than that. I won this.”

Savion smiled suspiciously. “You won it?”

“Yeah.” Tameer nodded. “Trust me, everything is on the level.”

“Well, bro, I guess luck runs in the family,” Savion told him, as he shook his head in disbelief. “I just won a twenty thousand-dollar cash scholarship from some grocery store.”

“What?”

Savion nodded again. “Yep, this morning.”

This time it was Tameer who shook his head. “This can't be real.”

Savion turned toward the Mustang, and waved his hand over it. “Bro, this is real.”

Tameer scratched his head. “I guess you're right.”

Tameer frowned as he thought of the oddness of it all. His family had never been this lucky. Heck, his family had never really had any luck at all. Jai was right, things did work out. He would be able to keep the car after all. He shifted his gaze to Savion. “Well, Save, you need to put the money in the bank and use it while you're in school.”

“I know.” Savion smiled. He turned and faced the car. “And now I see that I have a way to get to the bank.” Savion held out his palm for keys.

Tameer laughed and placed his arm around his brother. Together, they walked happily back inside of the apartment.

Across the street, Shamika bolted from the window to her bed, and grabbed her telephone. Her hands dialed at the speed of a Formula One race car.

“Hello?”

“Girl, put Dawshanique on the phone!” It was a shout.

“Hold on,” replied Joniece, Dawshanique's younger sister. Her shouting could be heard over the phone line.

It took only a few moments for Dawshanique to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, girl, this is Shamika! I got some news for you!”

“What?”

“Girl, Mr. Tameer Harris just pulled up in a brand-new, bright-red convertible!”

“You lying!” Dawshanique quickly lost all pretense of disinterest.

“My right hand, girl! A brand-new one,” Shamika replied.

“Hold on, girl, I'mma grab my Blue Book.” Dawshanique set her phone down for several moments, while she retrieved her book on automobile values.

“Okay, I'm back,” she finally told Shamika. “So what page are you on?” she asked, knowing that Shamika had already appraised the vehicle's worth.

“Girl, it's on page eighty-nine, Shelby GT 500 Convertible.”

Together they flipped pages.

“Okay, I've found it,” Dawshanique told her. “Convertible, huh? Forty-seven thousand.”

“If fully loaded, sports package, performance package, and everything else, fifty-two thousand. And, Dawshanique…It looks fully loaded.”

“Goddamn, is he in the game?” Dawshanique asked.

“Uh-un, no change in clothes, no expensive jewelry, and besides, you know Tameer is a goody-two shoes.”

Dawshanique exhaled loudly. She knew that Shamika was right. But where on Earth had Tameer gotten the money for a car like that? It was puzzling. Worse than that, it was frustrating.

“Right, so what about a league?” Dawshanique asked. “League Football?”

“Ain't happening,” Shamika answered. She had detailed files on those types of things. “Not right now, anyway.”

“So where did the money come from?”

“That's a good question,” Shamika answered. She thought hard for several moments, before coming to a conclusion. “Hell, it doesn't matter, anyway, you just get your ass in gear. And you better hurry before all these hoes in the hood find out.” Shamika smacked her lips. “A man with a new car, girl…friendship is nice but…”

“I know, I know. I'm getting dressed as we speak,” Dawshanique replied. She knew the rules of the jungle. She could already see several of her home girls circling the vehicle like sharks. But it didn't make sense.

“Mr. Tameer,” Dawshanique wondered out loud. “New car, new bitch, but no new job. What's going on?”

Flashbulbs went off inside of Shamika's head. “Uh-un, it couldn't be!”

“What?” Dawshanique asked.

“Just what you said. New car, new bitch,” Shamika explained. “You think this ho bought the car?”

“Not unless she's confused.” Dawshanique laughed. “It's the niggaz who buy the cars, we just drive 'em.”

“Well, do you think it's hers, and maybe he's just driving it?” Shamika suggested.

Dawshanique liked the sound of it. Instantly, she became more animated. “That may be it! Tameer's taking her to the cleaners!”

“Well, that means one of two things,” Shamika explained. “One, he's got this Barbie doll who's paying out of her ass and letting him drive her new car. This could mean that you don't stand a chance. Two, it could be your win, if you can get him to cough up everything she gives him. Hell, get him back, let him keep her, he gets the car, and brings it home to us…I mean, you.”

“Ooooh, girl, I didn't think about it like that, good idea!”

“Uh-oooh!”

“What?” Dawshanique asked.

“Shawntae just walked her big butt ass by the apartment, and was eyeballing out man's…I mean, your man's car. Girl, you better move something!”

“I'm on my way out the door, I'll call you later!”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“LaChina!” Jamaica shouted from the motel's bedroom.

“Hold on, girl, I'm coming,” LaChina shouted from the bathroom.

Jamaica placed her hand on her hip as the bathroom toilet flushed. Soon, LaChina emerged from the bathroom.

Jamaica smiled. “China, I just moved some of your papers off the bed, and well, I glanced at a few lines…”

LaChina quickly rushed to the bed and gathered her assortment of loose papers. “You've always been nosy, Jai. Always. You have no right to rumble through my things!”

“China, I didn't rumble,” Jamaica replied. “I was going to lie down, so I was trying to move them. My eye glanced across the papers and I saw Sea World, location, and some other key words.”

Suddenly, Jamaica stopped explaining. A frown appeared, and she extended the palm of her hand toward LaChina's face. “Wait a minute. You think you're a smart bitch, don't you? You get me on the defensive, you make me feel guilty, and then I can't ask you what I want to ask. And you know what I'm going to ask you, but you don't want to answer.”

LaChina gathered her papers, and then pretended to be in deep concentration as she organized them.

Jamaica placed her hand on her hip again, this time shifting her weight to one side. “Why don't you want to answer questions about Sea World, China?”

LaChina looked up quickly, causing her hair to fall down over her face. She shook her head and tossed her hair back over her shoulder, then outstretched her hands, palms skyward.

“I don't know what you're talking about, Jai,” she replied nervously. Her eyes darted back and forth across the room, in an effort to avoid eye contact with Jamaica.

“Yes, you do.” Jamaica was calm, serene. Her mood and tone scared LaChina even more.

“Jai, you haven't asked me any questions!”

Jamaica folded her arms and again shifted her weight. “What's the deal with Sea World?”

“It's…It's a theme park. An aquatic theme park that showcases various…”

“That's not what I mean!” Jamaica stomped her foot on the ground hard. “You're trying to set up another promo, right?”

Jamaica pointed her tiny finger accusingly at LaChina. “You are, aren't you? Where, San Diego? Orlando?”

LaChina shook her head from side to side. “No, Jai, I'm not.”

Jamaica wasn't buying it.

“You're lying!” Jamaica declared flatly. She turned, and slowly walked away from her friend. After several paces, Jamaica quickly wheeled and faced LaChina again. “Put it on sisterhood!”

LaChina raised her hand. “Sisterhood, Jai.”

It had been said quickly. A little too quickly for Jamaica's comfort.

Jamaica pointed her finger at LaChina again. “Say the clubhouse pledge!”

“Jai!”

“Say it!”

LaChina turned away. “Jai, I'm not going to recite some pledge we made up when we were six years old!”

“Ah-hah!” Jamaica shouted while pointing at her friend. “You're lying!”

After a brief moment of thought, Jamaica shook her head. “No, you're telling the truth technically, but you're lying in spirit, because you won't say the pledge.”

Jamaica frowned, arched her back, and balled her fist. She began to speak in the lowest, deepest voice that she could conjure. “You're a disgrace to the Sisterhood or The Treehouse Chipmunks.”

LaChina began bouncing up and down frantically, and flapping her hands near her sides. “Jai, don't say that!”

“I'm calling Tammy, I'm calling Erika, I'm calling Portia, Tamara, Naivasha, Germany, and all of the other clubhouse chipmunks, and we're going to initiate…”

LaChina quickly covered her ears and began to shout. “Don't say it! Don't say it! Alright, alright, I'll tell you. Just don't take away my nose. I had to kiss Piggy Parker for my Chipmunk nose!”

“Alright, then answer!” Jamaica pointed toward the bed. “Sit!”

LaChina sat instantly.

“Am I going to have to do another Sea World promo?” Jamaica asked.

LaChina looked down. “No.”

“China?”

“Noooo,” LaChina whined. “It's…it's a whale video,” she whispered.

Jamaica leaned forward and cupped her hand around her ear. “It's a what?”

LaChina pouted, sticking out her bottom lip as she stared at the floor. “A whale video.”

“A whale video!” Jamaica's hands quickly flew toward LaChina's neck.

“But, Jai, sisterhoo…”

“Who is it?” Tameer shouted through the door.

“It's Dawshanique,” the voice on the other side of the door declared.

Tameer wasn't quite sure that he had heard the name correctly. It sounded like someone had said “Dawshanique,” which to him was impossible. He had to ask again.

“Who?”

“It's me, Dawshanique.”

Slowly, Tameer opened the front door, and standing before him was his first true love. Dawshanique had managed to make herself look rather presentable, in the short period of time that she had to get ready. Tameer was much taken aback at how wonderful she looked. He had to try very hard to suppress his smile.

Dawshanique presented to him her best sad and sincere look. She had been practicing it in the mirror for days.

“Tameer, I need to talk to you,” she said softly.

Tameer's eyes blinked rapidly at the sound of her voice. He hadn't heard it in a long time. It sounded good.

So, she wanted to talk, huh? Tameer turned and quickly examined the state of the apartment. It was decent, okay for company, but still, he chose to step outside. Closing the door behind himself, he offered Dawshanique a nervous half-smile.

“What's up?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Dawshanique stepped forward. She was now standing intimately close to Tameer. “Well, I didn't have this in mind.” She turned and stared at his car. “I mean, I know that you have guests.”

He saw what she was staring at, and shook his head. “Oh no, it's mines.”

Dawshanique exhaled loudly.
Good
, she told herself,
now that that's confirmed, down to business.
She lifted her arms slowly and hugged him, breaking into tears at the same time.

“Tameer, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, or to…to…Tameer, I miss you so much.” She began sobbing heavily. “I wanted the best for you, for us, but now I see how much your education meant to you. Tameer, I want to make things right. I need you, I need to hold you. Oh, Tameer!”

Dawshanique laid her head against his chest and continued her sobbing. Tameer looked down at her, and rubbed his hand gently across her micro braids.