Now Terrance's grandma had left us that big, gorgeous house, and I love it. It was in the county away from drama and gunshots. It was in Velda City, basically outside of St. Louis City. It was safe and the cops actually waved at you. Most people look at my situation and say, damn you made it. I suppose I should be grateful.
But why was it that the only place I felt safe and at home was my hood? We had all moved away, me and my brothers and we were thriving, but we always became more relaxed the moment we left the county and hit the city. The change was instant. From people watering their neat little lawns and waving at groups hanging tough and throwing up gang signs when you pass. In the city, everything was moving, and I knew everybody.
Maybe it was the familiar faces, or maybe it was the fact that my mama was still there and she refused to leave. I threw up the deuces to everyone and slowed down here and there to chat with my people. Because these were my people. As I rolled through with my nineteen eighty-six Grand Prix, people got out of my way. They showed the respect that was due. My crew, my family, had put the fear of God in anyone who thought differently. We were at a point in our lives where most days were a given. Repetitious and easy.
I pulled up to the Corner of Keokuk and Missouri and looked up at my lady's house. She hadn't wanted to move, so we had all chipped in and bought the two-family flat. I sent her on vacation to Jamaica just so we could get in there and renovate the whole place. We opened it up and added a few walls and removed some. It was now a house. A little pain there and some carpet here and it was home. When she and Mickey got home, they were so happy. Get my mama a house, check.
I walked and was greeted by the smell of home and what smelled like oxtails. I climbed the few steps to the kitchen and found my mom and Mickey playing card. They both had cigarettes and a drink. They were laughing, but stopped as I walked in. I hugged them both, kissing their foreheads before going to the fridge and pulling out the ice tea I knew would be there.
"Well, sure, have some tea," My mom said sarcastically.
"Don't mind if I do," I said, filling a glass.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, baby?" Mickey said in his cool drawl.
I downed the tea and then filled my glass again before answering. "Can't I just visit my folks?"
"Anytime you need to," mama said, studying my face. She laid her card on the table and stood. Making her way to me, she gripped my chin, looking into my eyes as if they would talk to her. "You're looking good today."
Thanks, mama."
"Doesn't she look good today, Mickey?" Mama continued. She never broke eye contact with me, even though she let go of my chin.
"Always," Mickey replied.
"Have you found him or have you finally let go?" Mama asked.
I smiled a little, even as my heart broke a little more. Mama had loved Christian just as much as I had. I knew that if she could pick my husband, it would be him, hands down. Yet a month ago, she had declared him no longer a son of hers. She had also encouraged me to let him go.
"I let go," I said, and before I knew it, she had me wrapped up in her arms. Listen, when I say there is nothing like your mama's arms. At least my mama has the best hugs ever. Wrapped in her arms, I didn't cry, but I felt the last shred of doubt leave me. I was going to be fine without him.
*****
An hour later, I was back in the car on my way downtown to R and W'S when I came to an abrupt stop. I pulled over and hopped out of the car, before slamming the door. The slam got the attention of the four individuals standing before me. I looked into three surprised faces and one slightly annoyed one. Four little girls. They couldn't have been any older than fourteen. Maybe fifteen. Three girls stood aggressively surrounding the one with her back against the brick of a corner store.
I didn't know the surprised faces, but the annoyed ones. Well, she and I had gotten quite acquainted about a year ago, when She tried to steal a bracelet right off my wrist. Her name was Chloe Sullivan and while the other girls may be older, she was fourteen. After catching her, I learned everything I could about her. Under normal circumstances, someone stealing from me would have been a mistake, but she had been different. Her eyes were so intelligent for her age. As if she has seen way too much in her few years.
I guess in a way I saw myself in her and I took pity. I had also since then tried very hard to help her. It was hard because the girl had basically been raising herself since she was nine. She was the daughter of an ex-drug lord and a meth head. Her mom, if you could even call her that, didn't give a shit about her. I had seen firsthand their interactions, and I often thought that Chloe would be better off without her dead weight. Chloe was a survivor and over the last year I had come to care for this little juvi delinquent.
"What the fuck are ya'll doing?" I asked slowly. I could tell even though I didn't know the girls, they knew who I was. They all started talking at once, and I held up a hand to quiet them. "Chloe?"
She didn't answer, instead she looked at the ground. I pressed my lips together and looked at the other girls. I pointed to the smaller one, and she immediately spoke up. "She's been stealing out stuff." The girl complained. She steals everything. She's a thief!"
"So what? Now yall decided to jump her?" I asked. They didn't look ashamed. The older girl even nodded. It didn't piss me off, but I needed to let these little girls know Chloe was like a sister to me and there would be no jumping her.
"Around here," I began we don't do jumping. "See cause around here jumping people gets you hurt or worse. Chloe, get over here."
She hesitated for half a second before she came to stand by my side. "This is my little sister, and no one jumps her. Now if yall want to fight one on one. I can get with that or I can pay yall for whatever she stole. Your choice."
Chloe looked at me like I was crazy, so I laid a hand on her shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze until I knew she was uncomfortable.
"She took my Beats by Dre headphones." One girl whined. "They were expensive."
I reached in my bra and pulled out a wad of cash. I gave each girl three hundred dollars. "That about cover i?"
They nodded and walked away. I turned to Chloe and gave her the look that had made most men get out of my way. She just rolled her eye.
"I had them right where I needed them." Chloe said, hands on hips.
I shook my head and lifted an eyebrow. "They were about to whip your ass and take they shit back. Why the hell are you stealing, anyway? I told you if you need something to call me. Where is that phone I got you?"
"You didn't answer," Chloe said, hunching her shoulders as if it was no big deal. "I had to eat."
"You sold the phone?" I asked, barely able to believe this heifer, and yet I respected her hustle.
"I did that before I went back to stealing. I haven't talked to you in weeks and the last time I saw you, you looked unapproachable, so I fell back."
I knew the day she was talking about. I had seen her too, but I was just too pissed to say anything. That made some of my anger disappear. Chloe was a go getter and the only thing on her mind was eating. I know what it was like to be hungry. It's not a good feeling.
"You still need food?" I asked.
She nodded, and I ushered her to the car. I watched her climb in and took a moment to look her over. She had gotten taller in the last few months. Her single puff ponytail was a little larger. She looked clean and clearly she was skipping school since it was only eleven thirty. She was a beautiful girl with hard, traumatized, deep brown eyes. Most girls in her situation felt like they only had one way to make ends meet. They sold their bodies and tricked niggas. Chloe was a different breed, she liked getting money alone.
When I had first met her, she refused my help. Talking about how she could take care of herself. It had taken so much time for her to trust me and just as much time for me to understand why I cared. I knew now, and it was as simple as the fact that I knew she needed someone to care. As busy as my life was, I knew I may be her last hope.