Welfare Wifeys (17 page)

Teddy thought on it for a minute. “Okay, if you insist on paying me back let’s hook up tonight.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she said.

“Stop acting like that, Malika. I ain’t asking for no ass. I just wanna hang out for a while. I miss you, ma,” he said sincerely.

Malika entertained it briefly then caught herself. “Nah, besides, I’ve got little man.”

“If not tonight then maybe tomorrow, or the day after?” he pressed.

“Teddy . . .”

“Malika, you said yourself that if you owe me it’s gonna bother you.” He smirked.

Looking at that perfect white smile took Malika somewhere else. “I’ll think about it and get back with you on it.”

“A’ight, fair enough. So let me get ya number and . . .”

“Stop it, I said I’d call you.”

“Okay, okay, I ain’t gonna twist ya arm about it, sis.” Teddy climbed into his truck and rolled the window down to conclude their conversation. “I know you said you can’t make it out tonight, but I hope you change your mind. It’s veal night at Carmine’s and you know how you love that spinach.”

“Whatever, Teddy.” She smiled. “I’ll call you.”

“Make sure you do that, ma. Make sure you do that.” Teddy winked and pulled the cube truck out into traffic.

Malika stood there until the truck had disappeared up Amsterdam Avenue and only when she was sure he could no longer see her did she smile. Teddy could be a snake like the rest of them, but he always made her feel special when they were together and that’s what she dug the most about him. She doubted that she would take Teddy up on his invitation, but it still felt good for someone to offer. After getting her sandwiches she made her way to her side of the projects. She replayed the conversation over in her head, holding on
to the small moment of elation. Her heart told her that nothing could ruin her day, but when she made it to the front of her building she knew that her heart had been wrong . . . again.

Solomon got off the train at 103rd Street and Central Park West and bounced up the stairs to the avenue. When he emerged from the station he gave a cautious look around to make sure no one saw him for fear that they would tell his mother. She had only recently started allowing him to travel by his self via public transportation, and that was only after he promised to only take the bus to and from school. She was fearful of all the craziness that went on in the subway stations, but all the cool kids from his school took the train and he didn’t want to be the square.

Along his walk up to Manhattan Avenue it seemed like Solomon must’ve waved hello to at least a dozen people before he finally crossed over into the projects. He and his mother were very well liked among most of the residents because they treated everyone with respect no matter what walk of life they came from. Malika had always instilled this trait in her son and she would go upside his head whenever he strayed from it. When he rounded the corner of his building he saw his friend Jay posted up in the building with Scar. Solomon pushed his pants down slightly off his ass and threw an extra bop in his walk as he approached.

“You see, lil nigga, that’s the kinda shit you gotta do to niggaz to get them to stop playing with you. You gotta be heartless out here or these fools are gonna walk all over you,” Scar was telling Jay when Solomon walked up.

“What up, y’all, what’s going on?” Jay gave everyone in front of the building dap.

“Ain’t nothing, just schooling ya lil man on the laws of the jungle,” Scar said proudly. “What popping though?”

“Ain’t nothing, just coming from school,” Solomon said in his hip voice. “Where it’s at?”

“Where it’s at is upstairs for you, lil one. You know ya mom would trip if she caught you out here with the hard-legs,” Prince told him. Prince was the elder statesman among the young homeys on the Columbus side of the projects. His crew supplied Scar and several other low-level players with the poison they slung in the hood. Prince was a quiet man who practiced love over war, but his name had been tied to a few bodies.

Solomon looked at the other heads that were snickering and addressed Prince. “Come on, man, why you acting like I’m doing something wrong by standing in front of the building I live in?”

Prince saw that Scar and the others were watching so he was mindful of his words so as not to bruise young Solomon’s ego. “Sol, I ain’t trying to stop your shine, but you know what we do out here, so the block is always hot. The police could roll up at any given moment and cart us all off to the slammer.”

“Damn, Prince, all you talk about is getting knocked. I’d be more worried about clocking that bread than the police,” Lloyd said boastfully.

“Which is why your simple ass is always getting pinched for something stupid,” Prince shot back. “My nigga, with all the shit they’re building up and down Columbus how long do you think they’re gonna let you be out here reckless with it? It ain’t like when Rio was out here making it jump. Nah, the block is twice as hot and the money is half as long.”

“Well, if it’s like that then how come you still hustle, Prince?” Solomon asked.

The question caught Prince off guard so he decided to answer it as honestly as he could. “Because it’s all I know. Look, we get it how we live because these are the cards society dealt us, but you come from something else, Sol. Your mom makes sure you’re taken care of so you ain’t gotta be out here playing yourself.”

“Man, that lil bit of money we get from Welfare ain’t doing nothing. There’s gonna come a time when I gotta step my game up, yo,” Solomon said.

“Then you step ya game up by sticking to the plans your mother has laid out for you instead of trying to get caught up out here with these niggaz,” Prince said a little more sharply than he’d intended to. Seeing the hurt in the boy’s face he softened his tone. “Sol, I ain’t trying to come down on you, I’m just trying to let you know what’s popping.”

“Shit, he live in the projects like the rest of us so I’m sure he know what it is out here. Let the lil nigga be.” Scar sucked his teeth. He hated when Prince started preaching.

Prince shot him a dirty look then turned his attention back to Solomon. “My G, stay a kid for a while and leave this here business to the grown folks.”

Malika stormed up. “Solomon, what are you doing hanging out in front of this building?”

“What up, Malika?” Scar greeted her with a smile.

“Not now, Scar,” Malika said, never taking her eyes off her son who was standing there nervously. “Solomon, I asked you a question.”

“I was just chilling for a minute, Ma,” Solomon mumbled.

“Chilling my ass, I told you I don’t want you hanging in front of this hot ass building!”

“Malika, he only been here for a second or two and I was just sending him upstairs.” Prince tried to advocate for Solomon which turned her anger on him.

“Prince, you stick to telling the rest of these lil niggaz what to do and I’ll handle my own child, thank you very much,” Malika said with attitude. “And does your aunt know you’re out here?” she turned to Jay.

Jay shrugged. “I don’t think she’d too much care if she did.”

Malika sighed. “Let’s go, Solomon.” She snatched the door open. As Solomon walked into the building he cut his eyes at her and was
rewarded with a hard slap in the back of the head. “You roll them eyes at me again and I’ll pluck them outta your damn head.” She shoved him. Prince and the others could still hear Malika yelling at Solomon long after the heavy door had closed.

“Yo, she straight spazzed on that lil nigga.” Scar laughed and gave his boys dap.

Prince looked at him and shook his head. “Scar, you ain’t shit for laughing at son like that for his moms going in on him. I keep telling you that it’s bad business to have these young boys out here with you.”

Scar sucked his teeth. “Man, why you coming at me like I’m making these little dudes stand around out here? If they wanna play the block and get a lil change then that’s on their parents to tell them different. Me, I’m trying to let everybody eat who wants to get a dollar.”

“Which is why one of these chicks is either gonna call the police on you or cut your fucking throat over their kids,” Prince warned.

“Well, I don’t recall you kicking that save the children shit when you gave me my first bundle,” Scar shot back.

“We’re a different breed of cats, Scar. We took to the streets because we were starving and this was the only way to feed ourselves.”

“And what do you think is going on with the next generation?” Scar challenged. “Damn near every broad in the hood is either on Welfare or Social Security, getting peanuts a month, so their kids look to the streets to get their ones up. If you wanna blame somebody then blame they mamas for lying on their asses collecting checks instead of trying to work somewhere.”

Prince shook his head. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Nope,” Scar said smugly.

“Fuck it, I’m out.” Prince gave Scar dap. Lloyd extended his hand but Prince looked at him as if he was stupid and walked off.

“Hating ass nigga,” Lloyd said once Prince was out of earshot.

“Man, the only reason Prince is acting all concerned over that lil nigga is because he wants to smash Malika,” Scar said scornfully.

“Shorty do got a phat ass. I had thought about cracking that myself,” Lloyd said.

“Please, that uppity bitch ain’t trying to give your project ass no pussy. For as long as she’s been living here I don’t know not one nigga that she let beat.”

“Maybe she likes girls,” Lloyd suggested.

“Maybe, but once she get a shot of this horse cock she gonna come back over to this side.” Scar grabbed his crotch. He suddenly noticed Jay giving him a disturbing look. “What, you tight because I’m talking about ya man’s moms?”

“Nah, I’m cool,” Jay lied. He really wanted to bust Scar in his head for talking about Malika in such a way. Ever since he and Solomon had become friends Malika had treated him as if he was her own son. When his mother would go on her drug binges it was Malika who would take him in and make sure that he was fed and off the streets.

“Yeah, you’re cool alright. Now get your cool ass to work and get that money up you let Shakes burn you for. I’m bout to shoot uptown right quick and get something to eat.”

“Yeah, I’m hungry than a muthafucka too,” Lloyd said.

“Then you better go up the block to Benny’s and get a special because your ass is staying out here with Jay. I don’t need no more fuckups.”

“Why I gotta stay out here with him?” Lloyd complained.

“Because I said so. Now stop crying like a little bitch and let’s get this money,” Scar told him before walking off.

“Damn, why that nigga always so serious?” Jay asked once Scar had gone.

“Because this shit ain’t a game out here, which is what we keep trying to teach silly lil muthafuckas like you,” Lloyd snapped. “Dude, if you plan on living long enough to see a dollar you better wise up to what the fuck is good in the streets. The fact that your ass is out
here pitching in front of the building says that you’re behind the curve already.”

“But you’re out here with me, so where does that put you on the curve?” Jay shot back.

“You a real funny cat, you know that.” Lloyd leaned against the fence and lit a cigarette. He took deep drags off his square, ignoring Jay, and scoped the scenery. When his eyes landed on the two figures creeping toward him he choked on the smoke. “Shit,” he began coughing.

“You good?” Jay asked in a genuinely concerned voice.

“Hell no, nigga. Let’s take a walk,” Lloyd urged.

“Hold on, playboy, don’t dip off just yet.” Mookie’s voice froze the fleeing dealers. He was dressed in a forest-green sweat suit and matching suede Filas. The flap of his dou-rag blew in the breeze like a flag. On his heels was his brutish partner Fish. Fish looked like a walking mailbox with a nappy afro and a lazy eye. He wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but deadly in combat.

“Oh, shit, what up, Mookie? I didn’t even see you,” Lloyd lied.

“Umm hmm,” Mookie said, sucking his teeth and eyeing Lloyd suspiciously. “What the business is, youngster?”

Lloyd chuckled nervously. “Nothing much, man. Just out here chilling, ya know?”

Fish snorted. “Looks like they out here
clocking
to me, Mook.”

Mookie raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? Y’all lil niggaz out here getting rich? If that’s the case then let me hold something.”

Lloyd patted his pockets and shrugged. “I ain’t got it.”

Mookie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Y’all out here selling crack from sunup to sunup and you ain’t got no bread? That shit sound kinda funny to me.” Mookie sucked his teeth. “Real funny.” Mookie looked from Jay, who looked like he would piss himself at any moment. “A’ight, so we gonna play a little game called all I find all I keep.”

“Yo, Mookie, I ain’t gonna have you out here patting me down like I’m still ten years old. This is a new day,” Lloyd said defiantly.

Mookie raised his sweat shirt so that Lloyd could see the butt of the .45 he was carrying. “New day, same nigga. Now grab the muthafucking ceiling before I disrespect you out here,” Mookie ordered and began patting Lloyd down. From Lloyd’s pocket he produced a wad of bills. “Umm hmmm, thought you ain’t have it?”

“Come on, man, that’s the pack money,” Lloyd said.

“It was the pack money. Now it’s a street tax for you lying to me.” Mookie laughed at him. “Now where the stones at?”

“If Lloyd got the bread then this lil dude is probably holding the stones.” Fish shoved Jay toward Mookie.

“What’s up wit it?” Mookie asked Jay. Jay looked at the floor and said nothing. “Lil nigga, I’d hate to have to split them big ass lips of yours to prove a point. Cough up them rocks,” Mookie barked. Keeping his eyes on the ground Jay handed over the Ziploc bag full of crack rocks he had stuffed in his pants. “What’s this about a G-pack?” Mookie tested the weight. “Yeah, this is nice. Looks like we gonna have us a good old welcome home celebration tonight, Fish.”

“Sho nuff, Mookie, sho nuff,” Fish said happily.

“Mookie, you know we ain’t gonna let this shit ride,” Lloyd told him.

Mookie gave him a comical look. “Pussy, you ain’t gonna bust a grape in a fruit fight. And if that scar-faced sissy you work for wants to make something of it, I’ll be right in 865 smoking yo rocks.” Mookie bopped off with Fish in tow. As an afterthought he turned to Jay. “Shorty, if I were you I’d find a better class of friends to hang out with because these niggaz are gonna fuck around and get you murdered. Find yourself another game because you damn sure ain’t got the heart to play this one.”