Welfare Wifeys (28 page)

Malika sized Marsha up. “Well, a wise bitch would never argue with a fool because you can’t tell one from the other from a distance. Y’all be easy.” Malika flung her hair and stormed out of the bathroom.

Marsha stood there shaking her head with her nostrils flaring. “Bitches can be so stupid.”

“True indeed, but we were all young and stupid at one point. Now let’s get back out there and keep our eyes on
our
men.”

• • •

When Malika exited the bathroom a small crowd had gathered around the entranceway, undoubtedly having overheard the shouting between the girls. In the center of the pack, wearing a confused expression, was Teddy.

“Everything okay?” Teddy asked, but Malika ignored him and kept walking. He caught up with her near the door. “What’s good with you?”

“I should be asking you the same question, Teddy.” She looked him up and down. “I was having a fucked up enough day already without your home girls making me feel like I’m some kind of skank.”

“Malika, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about those cackling ass hens that were in the bathroom making me feel like I’m some kind of home wrecker or something. Teddy, I did that
other woman
shit when I was a teenager and I’m not trying to go through it again.” She took a step but he stopped her.

“Malika, you could never be the other anything. Chicks like you are one of a kind. I don’t know what Marsha and them bitches said to you in the bathroom, but if it didn’t come outta my mouth it ain’t the gospel.”

“So you don’t have a girl?” she asked.

Teddy’s eye ticked, but he kept his face even.

“Is that what this is all about?” He smirked as if it was nothing. “Malika, I wouldn’t even insult your intelligence by telling you that I’ve been keeping it in my pants since the last time we were together. Yeah, I got a lil situation that ain’t really working out, and Marsh and them know shorty which is why they’re trying to throw shade on you, but don’t feed into that.”

“Teddy, you could’ve just kept it one hundred and told me that you were dealing with someone and let me decide for myself if I still wanted to see you tonight.”

“For what? You said yourself that there was nothing more to
this than two old friends hanging out so it never crossed my mind to get that deep into it,” he said swiftly. “Malika, we can go back up in there and I’ll make Marsh and them tell you what it is,” he faked for the door.

“No, you don’t have to do all that. I’ve had all the drama I can stand in a twenty-four hour period. Just take me home.”

“You sure, we could go get some dinner or something?” he suggested.

“Nah, I appreciate it, but I’m good. I just wanna get home to my son.”

Teddy dropped Malika off in front of her projects and told her he would call and check on her in a few to which she just responded with a grunt. She hadn’t meant to be so snippy with him, but she was still pissed about what had gone down at the bowling alley with the girl Marsha. Malika wasn’t used to excessive amounts of drama and it had her drained. All she wanted to do was get upstairs to her apartment and crawl under the covers.

As usual the knuckleheads were loitering in the courtyard. Lloyd shuffled back and forth in front of the building directing the fiends to the bench at the far end where Jay was sitting, looking around nervously. It was obvious to a duck what he was up to. Malika started to say something to him about it, but decided against it. She could barely deal with her own child, let alone add her two cents in the business of someone else’s. She had always liked Jay but she knew at that moment that would be the end of his and Solomon’s friendship. The last thing she needed was her son getting caught up in their bullshit. Posted up in front of the building were Scar and Prince who were overseeing the operation.

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

“Hey, Scar,” she said in an uninterested tone.

“Damn, you look like somebody kicked your dog,” Prince said jokingly.

“It sure feels like it, Prince,” Malika said with a sigh.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, I just wanna get upstairs and into my bed.”

“You need some company?” Scar asked.

Malika looked at him crazy. “I don’t think so. Prince, have you seen Solomon? I’ve been calling him for the last hour or so to see if he made it in from school yet but he didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, I saw him go in the building about an hour or so ago.”

“Thanks,” she said, continuing into the building.

“Malika, if you change ya mind you know where to find me,” Scar called after her, but Malika ignored him.

When Malika got into her apartment she tripped over Solomon’s book bag that he had dropped in the middle of the floor, which she had constantly asked him to stop doing. Talking to him was about as effective as talking to a wall and it was getting on her nerves. She snatched the bag off the floor and stormed toward his bedroom. Solomon’s room was a mess with dirty laundry and dishes on the floor. The boy lay across the bed playing a video game as if he didn’t even notice the filth.

“Solomon, how many times do I have to tell you about cleaning up behind yourself?” She threw the book bag on the bed.

“My fault,” he said nonchalantly.

“And where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for an hour?”

“I got here a while ago. I saw your missed calls on the caller ID,” he told her, never taking his eyes off the video game.

Malika stepped between him and the television. “Then why didn’t you call me back?”

“Because the phone is cut off one-way, and so is the Internet and the cable!” he said with attitude.

Malika cursed silently. She had gotten the notice about the
interruption of services from Verizon, but she couldn’t pay them and still have carfare to get back and forth to her appointments. She intended to call them and try to get an extension, but with everything going on it slipped her mind.

“Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll call them in the morning and take care of it,” Malika said.

“With what?” he asked sarcastically.

“You let me worry about that. Did you do your homework yet?”

“I’ll do it later.”

“Solomon, you know the rules; no video games or television until you’ve done your homework.” She turned the game off.

“Damn, you didn’t even give me a chance to save my season!” he barked.

“You’d better watch your mouth, before I bust you in it,” she warned. “I don’t know what this chip is you’ve been carrying around on your shoulder the last few weeks, but you’d better get it together before we have a problem.”

“Wouldn’t want that. We’ve got enough problems as it is,” he said and opened up his book bag to do his homework. Malika started to get in his ass, but someone knocking at the door saved him.

Malika went to the door and looked through the peephole where she saw two men wearing blue coveralls. “Yes?” She opened the door a crack.

“How are you, ma’am? We’re from Rent-A-Center. We’ve come for the television and entertainment system you were renting from us.” He looked at the clipboard to double-check the information. “You’re late on your payments.”

“Oh, yeah . . . Listen, I meant to call you guys about that. I know I’m a little behind, but if you’ll give me another week I’ll mail you a check,” she lied, hoping he would buy it.

He didn’t.

“Sorry, but you haven’t made a payment in three months so we gotta collect the stuff.”

“C’mon, just give me a little more time and I promise, promise, promise that I’ll straighten it out,” she pleaded.

The man looked at her sympathetically. “I wish I could, lady, but I could lose my job if I don’t collect this stuff. I’m really sorry.”

Malika sighed. “Not as sorry as I am.” She opened the door to let them in. As the repo men were coming in to collect her entertainment system Solomon bumped past them into the hallway. “Solomon, where are you going?”

“To the store, I’ll be back,” he said without stopping.

“Solomon, get your butt back in here and do your homework,” Malika called after him but he kept going. “Boy, do you hear me?” Malika thought about following but the sound of something breaking in the living room distracted her.

Fifteen minutes after they had come, the repo men had left with half of Malika’s living room. Solomon still hadn’t come back from the store and she didn’t have the strength to go out and look for him. Malika’s hollow living room was a reflection of how her soul felt at that moment. She was so distraught that she threw up in the wastebasket. Feeling defeated and broken, Malika sat in the empty space left by her entertainment system and cried.

“Look at this Muthafucka.” Scar motioned to Solomon who was coming out of the building with his face twisted up.

“What up, son? You good?” Jay asked, sensing that something was wrong with his friend.

“Yeah, I’m a’ight,” Solomon lied. Jay knew him well enough to see through it, but he wouldn’t pry in front of Scar. “So what up, where it at?” Solomon leaned on the fence next to Lloyd, who has hitting a blunt.

“Shit, just doing what we do.” Lloyd gave Solomon dap.

“And what we do is illegal, so you need to keep it trucking before
ya mother comes out here and call the police on us for trying to corrupt you.” Scar shooed him.

“Stall him out, Scar. The lil nigga is a’ight,” Lloyd said, exhaling weed smoke through his nose. “What up, lil homey, you ready for round two?” He extended the blunt. To everyone’s especially Scar’s surprise Solomon hit the blunt like a champ. He damn near choked to death but they appreciated his zeal.

“Lil man trying to grow up, huh?” Scar said, looking him up and down.

“Ain’t no men in my house, so I guess the job falls to me,” Solomon told Scar.

“Where the fuck did you pick that up, on a Lil Wayne CD?” Scar laughed, but Solomon didn’t.

Scar narrowed his eyes. “What you got cooking in that big ass brain of yours?”

“A come-up,” Solomon said seriously.

“Sol, I heard that Guarded Riverside is paying to tutor little kids. As smart as you are I know you could land the gig,” Jay told him.

Solomon gave Jay a blank stare. “My dude, do I look like I’m trying to bust my brain for the shorts they’re giving out? Nah, I need to get some real money.” He looked at Scar.

Scar waved him off. “Fuck outta here with that lame shit you talking.”

“Scar, I’m dead-ass serious. I’m stepping to you on some G-shit out of respect because this is your block, a bird nigga would’ve just tried to come out with his lil work and hustle around you, but I ain’t off that.”

Scar laughed. “You hear this square ass nigga?” He stepped directly in front of Solomon in an attempt to intimidate him. He could tell the boy was scared but he wouldn’t back down. “Son, this ain’t Summer Youth. This is the trap.”

“It’s also where the money is,” Solomon told him. “Dick, y’all have known me almost all my life so you know my story. Me and
mama-love are barely getting by and I’m tired of sitting on my ass watching her struggle. I need to make a play, big homey.”

The hunger behind Solomon’s eyes drew a broad smile to Scar’s face. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a few loose bags of crack, and tested the weight in his hand. “You really trying to get out here and get it up?”

“Come on, Scar, you know Sol don’t . . .” Jay began, but Scar silenced him with a look.

“I asked you a question, B.” Scar shook the cracks in his hand. In response Solomon held out his hand. “Bet.” Scar dropped the bags in his hand. “Let me see how you handle yourself with getting those off and we’ll talk.” Like a trained soldier Solomon spun on his heels and walked toward the building. Scar watched him comically and shook his head.

“Scar, do you think that was a good idea. If he gets knocked his moms is gonna go through the roof,” Jay pointed out.

“If he gets knocked he ain’t got nobody but himself to blame, he asked for those rocks, I didn’t offer them to him,” Scar said.

“Son, you crazy for putting that nigga down, Prince is gonna wild the fuck out when he finds out.” Lloyd shook his head.

“Man, who the fuck is out here holding this down, me or Prince?” Scar snapped. “If a little nigga wanna feed his people, who the fuck am I to stop him if I got enough food on my plate for everybody to eat? Lloyd, I don’t know why you and this little bitch nigga Jay worrying so much for anyhow; after about twenty minutes of standing in that lobby Solomon is either gonna get spooked or tired and run back upstairs.”

“You ain’t never lied.” Lloyd nodded behind Scar at Solomon who was coming back out of the building.

“What’s the matter, you heard somebody getting off the elevator and thought it was them D-boyz?” Scar teased him.

“Nah, I’m finished, let me get a few more.” Solomon held his hand out.

Scar gave him a disbelieving look. “How the hell did you get off fifteen bags in sixty damn seconds when I didn’t even see anybody go in the building?”

“Because I know two people on the first floor who smoke, they just keep it quiet. They bought six a piece and shorty from the fifth floor is waiting for me to come back with the three more ’cause she wanted five. Let’s get this money.”

Almost twenty hours after he was picked up, Rico was released from custody. His lawyer petitioned to have him released from the precinct but of course Brown and Alvarez saw that that didn’t happen. Rico was processed and sent through Central Bookings before appearing before a judge and being released on bond. Changa was not so fortunate.

From what the lawyer told him someone had broken into Lee’s house and tried to murder him and his girlfriend and for reasons Rico didn’t understand Lee was convinced that he was behind it. The police had rousted him for hours but Rico had airtight alibis that accounted for almost every minute of that day, and receipts from the different places he had stopped to back it up. The police didn’t have anything to link him to what happened other than Lee’s word and he was in and out of consciousness. Once he got lawyer’d-up the detectives couldn’t touch him, unfortunately the same couldn’t be said for Changa.