Rock and A Hard Place 3
Love is an opening, opening to the highest states of consciousness.
Love is an opening, opening to the highest states of consciousness.
I never liked that song. It was too slow and repetitive. Then again, I never knew what it meant. Because for me, love wasn't really enlightening or any of the other shit he talks about. Mostly, it felt confining. It felt good, yeah, 'cause girls are hot and the feeling of that light air rolling around in your stomach is great too.
But John Wink dooped me for years. The song was about drugs. About lover's speed. About Ecstasy.
I never did drugs. And yeah, I wasn't the most sheltered kid with older brothers and the shit they talk and growing up in Detriot, but Ma made sure I never got my hands on anything addictive.
I also never ran in with drug dealers. Sure, I talked to kids who dealed, but I never went looking for the big timers.
Good thing, too.
The first time I heard Cray's name tossed around was at a party. It was at Becky Foster's house. She's one of the few kids at my school to have enough money, or at least her parents do, to slip into the upper levels of the middle class.
She has white shoes and an even whiter collar, and she doesn't even work yet. Probably won't have to. Her house was big too. That night, Alick had talked us all into going, something about keeping our street cred, but mostly, he wanted to see Becky.
Regular ladies man, our Alick.
So we went. It sucked. For a preppy party, it wasn't the worst. It just wasn't our regular territory. Just to show, D'Shawn was leaning up against the Foster's grand piano in his old, baggy jeans and roughed up J's with his brother's old t-shirt hanging loose off his shoulders. Street trash at it's finest. But we all look like that, so it doesn't bother me. Just seems out of place near doilies.
"What do y'all wanna do? I say we skip this joint and head up to the convenience store. Pick up some real babes." He smirks.
"With what, your charming personality, man?" Win snorts. "Give me a break. You got better luck serenading dames at Brookedale." I chuckle.
D'Shawn gives a slight growl in annoyance. "No. I got some cash the other day."
"So what. You gonna flash them some and watch them come snapping at you? You're gonna need a lot more than five bucks." Alick shakes his head. "You a real head case, man."
"Fuck that." Is all he replies. "I got it handled. I can guarantee I'm banging way more chicks than all y'all." He gives us a suggestive raise of the eyebrows.
I snort. "Sure, man." Then I pause. "Seriously though, where'd you get it? From a drain? Or did you steal it this time?"
D'Shawn grins white, shaking his head. "Naw. Real green ones. Z got some."
"And he just handed you some. Like, 'yo, little bro, come take my money'?" Alick jabs at his shoulder, looking skeptical and ready to laugh. D'Shawn moves aside easily enough, eyeing us all. I grin.
Our friend just shrugs. "He's got a new job."
"Yeah, as a shotter." That's Win. He looks unimpressed. "Nothing new."
D'Shawn shrugs. "Ain't like you haven't thought of it. 'Sides, it makes a shit ton. He just bought a car. It's a piece of shit, but it's more than any of us got."
Win shakes his head. "I wouldn't go near Cray even if I had to. He's made news. He'll fuck you up."
"Scared?" D'Shawn leers playfully.
"No. Just not a dumbass."
"Wow, pretty boy, real nice. Look at prissy little Win-boy bein' all honest." Alick guffaws loudly. D'Shawn and I join in. Win glowers.
"I just wanna live."
There is a lull. I pull myself up onto the top of the piano next to D'Shawn. "Who's Cray?" I ask.
Win shrugs. "He deals, man. Biggest one around. He has a whole ring. Maxwell? He's in on it. Other kids at school too, pricks on the street, lots of thugs. Everyone knows who he is."
"Not everyone." Alick coughs.
I roll my eyes. "I do now."
Alick shakes his head. "Sometimes you so white I feel like I just gotta unload a shit ton of info for you to understand a damn thing." He says lightly.
"S'not true." I grouse. I decide to get the conversation off me. "So what's your brother make?"
D'Shawn looks over at me and shrugs. "I dunno. A lot, I guess. He gets bags of all kinds and brings them around work, the street; some kids at school go after him. Like I said though, he just got a lot."
I raise my eyebrows. "And he just gave you some?" I ask.
D'Shawn shakes his head.
Alick hops up from leaning against the window frame and laughs triumphantly. "I knew it! Shit did I know it!"
Alick shoots him a look, switching feet. "I'm just borrowing it."
"Whatever." Win moves to stand. "Y'all coming or am I going alone?"
"Where?" D'Shawn asks, uncrossing his arms and standing too.
"Sundries." Is all Win says. So yeah, the convenience store on Monroe. I watch D'Shawn's face twitch with the hint of a smile. Then we all pull ourselves upright and walk out of the party.
Or try to.
I get pulled back into the room with the Foster's staircase. Because yeah, they're so loaded they have a room for that.
And she is hot.
Emily is one of Becky's friends. I'd heard about her and I'd seen her. But this feels like the first time I'd seen her in the wild, like an exhibit at the zoo in real life. Up close and personal. She smells like baby powder, hairspray, and girl sweat.
I breathe in deep through my nose.
She grins, making the dimples on her cheeks visible. She wears too much make up, but she has nice eyes and I like her smile. Then there was the rest of her and well, she isn't a cheerleader for nothing.
"You come here often?" She purrs.
I shake my head, mouth opening and closing like a dying trout. Damn I need to stop watching those nature shows.
She giggles, that sweet girlish sound and my heart pounds more. I don't know what to do or what to say. Girls are pretty great in person.
"Mm." She smiles again, still clutching my arm. "You're… Alex, right?"
I nod slowly.
She nods. "I've heard a lot about you. Why haven't we met before?" She lets her mouth fade into a hint of a pout.
I shrug. "Beats me." I say honestly, finally finding my voice.
I must have said it just right, because her grin spreads across her face and she pulls me in for a rough kiss. Well shit.
I have no composure. But I do think to put an arm around her waist. That works. I've seen it before. But yeah, first kiss and all I suck at it. I think. I don't really know.
Then I lean into the wetness of her lips in the warm room and it is amazing.
Holy hell.
Her tongue makes it into my mouth and I feel it go straight to my dick. Then she stops. Emily's deep brown eyes search mine and she smiles again. Her pupils are huge. She wavers a bit.
"You okay?" I ask.
She giggles again, "Yes. Did try this though." She pulls out a small, blue pill with what looks like butterfly on it.
I raise my eyebrows. "E?" I might not know Cray, but I know this shit. Drugs are bad. Period. Jerry and Ma nailed that into my psyche from an early age.
"Of course. You have to do things right." She pauses, fingering the hem of my shirt and brushing her fingers on my neck. I shiver involuntarily. "To feel things right. It makes it better." She smiles slowly, slipping her hand with the pill into my own. My palms are sweaty and I feel it stick to my skin. She pulls her hand away slowly, still holding my gaze.
I look down at my hand and the smear of blue by the small tablet.
I shrug. Some risks are worth taking.
Especially for a girl.
Then I put it in my mouth, because you only have one life to live.
I glance over Emily's shoulder to see D'Shawn grinning at me from the doorway of the house. We make eye contact and he winks, stepping back out into the dark night with our friends.
Good going, man.
XXXXX
"So, you get any?" D'Shawn prods, as he pumps air into his bicycle tires. It's seen better days, but when you don't have money to replace it, you run it into the ground.
I shake my head, scuffing my sneakered foot on the rough, broken patch of cement on his driveway. I glance up. "Tried. Coppers showed up before anything happened."
D snorts loudly. "You were high as hell, man. That's somethin'."
I laugh. "Yeah. It was kinda great."
He raises an eyebrow, screwing on the plastic cap of the tire. "And coming back down to earth, pretty boy?"
"Like I got fucked." I say.
"Except you didn't."
I shrug. "I felt like I got run over by a truck."
He laughs, pressing on the tire to gauge the pressure. "Welcome to man hood, brother." He claps me on the shoulder. I shrug off his hand.
"S'not funny, D."
I looks at me evenly. "Didn't say it was. Drugs are crazy."
"You taken a lot?"
"Some." He shrugs nonchalantly, like some casual druggie. "Mostly from her stash."
I nod. D'Shawn's Mom has been addicted to drugs for longer than we've been alive; she's always been wasted when I've seen her. We always knew we could find some real shit at his house, if we wanted it. The crazy thing was though, she always seemed to know if we did it, so we never tried. She was high as hell, but still had the senses of a mother bear.
Fucking crazy.
"You're brother doesn't…?" I trail off.
D'Shawn gives a negative shake of the head as he observes his ride. He kicks at the rusted bike stand. "Naw. Maybe a few times, mostly uses it for cash. Like I said, there's good money there."
I nod slowly. "And Cray would give you stuff to sell?"
My friend looks sharply at me, his large forehead compacting into a deep frown. "I ain't getting into that shit."
"That shit?" I say, crossing my arms across my chest in a Mexican standoff with my friend. "You complain about your bike, games, girls, hell, man, you've complained about your B.O."
He frowns harder. "Oh fuck that, I have not."
"You were talkin' just yesterday about how bad your armpits smell." I counter.
"Shut up." He growls.
I sigh. "I'm just saying. We could check it out. Sure it's shit—"
"And Cray will fuck us up if we don't pay him back." He interrupts.
"Yeah, but—"
"And our brothers will beat the hell out of us."
I sigh loudly. "Would you let me talk?"
He shrugs.
"At least take me there or tell me where to go. I want some cash. You can stay here, see if I care."
D'Shawn groans, shaking his head as he ties the tube of the pump around the base. "Your funeral, man."
XXXXX
Jerry pulls me from my thoughts clearly his throat mildly. I look up quickly.
"Oh. I don't know." I begin. "It was a few months ago. I made D'Shawn—"
"Who the hell-?" Angel starts in confusion.
"Daniel." I finish, glancing up at my brother. Bobby glowers at him, waiting for me to continue.
"I made him take me to Cray's place, you know, off of, well, there. You know. Then I talked to Cray." I stop quietly.
"About what?" Jerry probes, his hands flat against the table, fingertips extended towards me.
This is fifty kinds of fucked up.
I shift again in my seat. "I wanted some…stuff to sell. To make money." Bobby gives an angry snort and I shift nervously, wincing as my jeans and the hardwood of the chair rub up against my ass. "So he gave me some." I finish simply. I glance around the table at my brothers.
Bobby fixes me with his cold stare. "Are these the rest of those?" he points to the pile in the middle of the table.
I shake my head.
"Talk with your damn mouth." He says tightly.
"No. I sold all those, to kids at school. I paid him what I owed and kept the rest. Uh, then, I got some more."
"How many times?"
I sigh in frustration. "Does it matter?"
"Yes, it fucking matters!" Bobby nearly shouts, his fist clenched on the table. I shrink back nervously. "I want to know what the fuck you have been doing and how much of this shit," he gestures to the pills, "you unloaded. How much do you owe that prick?"
"Only sixty dollars." I reply quietly. Jerry takes a deep breath, cutting Bobby off again with a firm look.
"Where were you plannin' on getting this money?"
I shake my head. "I don't know."
He nods sadly. "You know, if you wanted pocket money, you should've talked to me. I could have got you a paper route or somethin'." I nod my head in shame.
Well, when you say it like that…
"'M sorry." I mumble.
Then he does something unexpected. Jerry pulls out his wallet, pushing three twenty dollars bills at me. "See these?" I nod slowly. He looks around the table at all of us. "We all gonna head down to Cray, pay him, and get you out. No more dealing. Understand?"
I nod again, dumbly.
Then Bobby speaks again. "No. Talk, kid. You don't fuck with pricks like Cray. You don't sell shit and you sure as hell don't take it." He speaks low, his eyes boring into mine. I look at my folded hands in my lap to avoid his gaze. "Look at me." He says forcefully. I look up. "This ends now, got me?"
I nod again.
"Say it, kid. I need to hear you say it."
"I-I won't, Bobby. Jerry, Angel, Jack. I promise." They nod collectively.
TBC