The Corner II (11 page)

Frank got out and he and Lucky met Anthony. Lucky took the box from his son and handed it to Frank, who set the items in the truck, so he and his son could hug each other. Their hug in the visiting room when the two met for the first time in twenty years didn’t compare to the one they gave each other in the air of freedom. The guards walked back into Jackson State prison without saying a word, this was a daily routine for them—men coming and going. Once the father and son broke their embrace, Lucky introduced Anthony to Frank. Frank told Anthony that he remembered him when he was a little boy and how it was good to see him again. They shook hands and Anthony hugged him. He didn’t remember Frank but knew he was someone close seeing as how he was the one here with his dad to take him away from his concrete and steel former home.

Lucky said, “Let’s get the hell outta here.”  He opened the door and Anthony got in.

Frank and Lucky got in the front and they were on their way. As they got onto the highway Anthony asked, “Pops you think we can stop and get a couple of money orders. I promised to send my guy some loot and I need to send him this letter. Can you loan me some loot to give him?”

Lucky looked at Frank and nodded. They smiled and Frank reached inside his suit coat. He pulled out an envelope and handed it to Anthony saying, “A little something to get you started.

“What’s this?” The now free man asked.

“Get your money order for your boy out of
your
money,” Lucky grinned happily.

Ant opened the envelope and thumbed the cash. It was about five grand worth of fifties and hundreds. It had been a while since he felt this type of cash on his fingertips. He set the envelope on the seat and reached up with both hands patting Lucky and Frank on the shoulders while telling them how thankful he was for the money. He felt the smoothness of the men’s suits. He told them how sharp they looked and asked why they had on the suits. Lucky told him that he and Frank always liked to look good when the occasion called. And this was definitely a special occasion. Lucky’s long lost son—his only child was free from prison and coming home.

“Damn, I wish y’all would have brought me one of those so I could have been tight stepping in Chicago. Is that how they doin’ it there?”

Lucky told him, “We’ll get you a suit. These are Brooks Brothers and Stacey Adams but for you, we’ll get you some of them new Sean John suits.”

Frank added. “Yeah, he done went from selling hip hop clothes to selling suits also. Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Then again I might get you one of them Italian ones.”

Lucky looked back at his son. “You know that you need to get out of that prison shit. Look back there,” he nodded to the back where the third row bench was supposed to be.

Ant pulled the bags from the rear of the Denali. He was amazed at the room in the truck. Before he got locked up they weren’t making them like this. Lots of room and comfy leather seats and a ride that was damn near smooth as a Cadillac. He opened one of the bags and was wide eyed when he saw all the Sean John, Roca Wear, South Pole and other fashionable clothes in the large bag. Jeans, jean shorts, designer button downs and t-shirts. He had a pair of Air Force Ones, a pair of K-Swiss, a pair of Lugz and a pair of Timberlands that he couldn’t wear until it got cooler, but Tesha had an opportunity to get them on the low so she snatched them up.

Anthony got dressed in a pair of South Pole jean shorts and t-shirt. He slipped on the K-Swiss and an all white Chicago White Sox cap. He thought about his boy, Smiley, who he used to argue with about sports—Ant riding with the Chicago teams and Smiley, Detroit all the way. He wished that he had had time to go looking for Winchester. It had been ten years and he could be anywhere. But Anthony was willing to go look for the man who caused the death of his boy and was the reason that he had spent ten years of his life in the joint and Baby G still serving time on his eleven-year bid. But he didn’t need to be worrying about that now. He was home amongst family and he was going to be taken care of. But he also wanted to carry his weight. He was able to see how happy his father was to have him in his life. He was able to see the love in his Dad’s eyes and in the eyes of Frank. A man who knew him as a kid but who he had no recollection of.

Anthony had fallen asleep with the ear buds in his ears. He’d been listening to the MP3 player that is after he figured out how to work the device, and was amazed at how many songs it stored. Being gone ten years definitely put you behind on technology. The Suburban pulled up in the driveway of a two-story South Side home. Anthony stretched and yawned as he gathered himself from the deep sleep he was in. Frank was already out of the Denali and at the rear of the truck. He opened the rear hatch and took out the bags.

“We here, go ahead and get out,” Frank told Anthony just as Lucky was opening the door for him.

Anthony stepped out and admiringly looked over the fancy nice-sized home and had never had a close up view of a yard that was landscaped so nicely. The grass was so plush and thick that it looked like the turf that was played on during the Super Bowl. He went to grab a bag from Frank and the tall man told him that he had it. To relax, that he was home.

“What you want to eat, son?”

Anthony replied, “I don’t know, a pizza is cool.”

“Pizza?” Lucky and Frank said in unison.

Lucky patted his son on the shoulder while shaking his head. “Son, I got a woman up in here that can cook any type of soul food, Cajun food, even that Italian food, so you name it, she’ll get down and burn whatever for you.”

Wondering had his dad married or gotten some steady woman living with him that might not take too kind to the long lost son just showing up, Anthony asked, “Pop, you sure your wife’s not going to mind me just poppin’ up out of the blue like this?”

Lucky stopped walking, so did Frank and Anthony following his lead. They were halfway up the walkway. Lucky cupped Anthony’s face in his hands. “Look son. And that’s what you are,
my
son. Fuck what anybody got to say about that.”  Frank stood next to Lucky with seriousness painted on his face as he nodded agreeing with what his best friend and boss were saying. “We have missed years that we can’t get back, but you’re here now and ain’t nothing going to separate us again. Besides, she’s just my maid. I know this ain’t no mansion, but I don’t have time for cleaning and I’m in my fifties so I need real food and not all that carryout shit.”  They started walking toward the house as Lucky joked mumbling, “Wings and nuggets. Fake ass Taco Bell and all that shit. Besides, Mexicans don’t even make their tacos with ground beef. That’s some white folk shit!”

They all laughed.

   Frank used his key to open the door. Besides Lucky and the maid, he was the only one who had a key to Lucky’s home and soon Anthony would be the only other person. When Frank pushed the solid oak door open they stepped in and everyone that was in the room yelled,
surprise!

Anthony didn’t know a soul that stood before him, but a smile was plastered on his face. Frank closed the door and nodded ahead.

Lucky said, “Welcome home son. This is your family.”

Anthony smiled and looked at all the faces and really didn’t know what to say. Everyone knew he didn’t have the faintest idea who they were so they decided to introduce themselves and the first one was Tesha. She sashayed her way up to Anthony and he couldn’t help but to notice the hips, ass, and breasts on the stacked woman that was before him and had hoped that this was a hook up from pops when the woman hugged him tightly, welcoming him home. When his pops introduced her as his accountant/personal assistant, he realized that she wasn’t just some hoochie there to give him his first shot of ass in ten years. The rest of the gang introduced themselves. Greg, light skinned, chubby with hazel eyes, was the nigga who did a lot of the work in the streets. He ran the houses and corners and kept all the shorties in check. Easy and Jamel were two youngsters Lucky had grown fond of while helping one of his partners out at the boxing gym training some of the up and coming Gold Glove prospects. They were rising to the top of the ranks with hopes of making it to the Olympics one day when they got caught in a stolen car. They were just joyriding with a friend who told them that it was his daddy’s car. They believed him since he was one of those kids whose parents had good jobs and spoiled him. Needless to say, the boy had lied and that arrest, even thought they were juveniles, caused an immediate boot off the boxing team.

Next to offer hugs were DC and his girl, Cat. DC was a young lieutenant for Slim and Lucky, and Cat, which was short for Cathy, was a chick he had been kicking it with for over a year—ever since he got money. She was a young dark-skinned sister whose body was sick with it. Face was average but her body was a ten. Some say that she was a trick out in Vegas then moved to Chicago by way of Minnesota and that’s when DC got hooked up with her.

Ant noticed a sexy sista then took a second look as he realized she belonged to the tall Puerto Rican—it was Noonie and Chantel. They introduced themselves and when Chantel left from Noonie’s side he told Ant, “Later we going to go to a spot I got. We got some freaks that gonna make you think Chi-town is heaven. What’s your fantasy, bro?”

One of the ladies from Lucky’s club served Anthony a glass of Hennessy on the rocks. Ant took the drink and thought about what Noonie was saying to him. He smiled thinking about all the times he sat in his cell looking at the well-built women in the Black Tail magazines. Now he was seeing the same bodies with better faces. Shit, it was on. His pops and his crew had it going on. Lucky had told him enough about Noonie and the fellas to know that they were down and he was ready to be that also. So he was going to enjoy the party and hanging out with Noonie tonight. Especially since he could get a fantasy fulfilled.

“I want a sista and Spanish chic,” he told Noonie hoping he could come up with that.

Noonie fucked him up when he said, “Okay, got the sista but when you say Spanish you gots to make it clear. You’re Lucky’s son and it’s all here for you, baby. Is that Puerto Rican, Mexican, Dominican—”

“Don’t matter. I ain’t never had nothing but sistas so surprise a mahfucka.”

Noonie nodded his head as he led Ant toward the back so they could step outside where everyone was. He could smell the barbeque and the music was pumping some. When they entered the kitchen Lucky held up his glass to his son telling him to enjoy. Ant looked over at the heavyset dark skinned woman who was whipping up some fried corn.

Lucky noticed the questioning gaze from his son then answered, “Yeah, this Miss Joplin. She’s from Mississippi. Smells good don’t it?”

“Good than a mutha, Pops.”

Ant stepped outside through the sliding glass door and saw more women. They were hanging by the pool. A thick brotha named Ducet handed Ant and Noonie a Cuban cigar. He lit it for them. They puffed on the expensive stogies instead of blunts. No drugs were the rule at Lucky’s home.

Ducet, who was one of the bouncers at Lucky’s club, was built like a brick shit house. The brotha stayed in the gym when he wasn’t working for Lucky and working the women. “Welcome home, bro.” He then asked Noonie, “Which one you got for him?”

Noonie pointed to a fine dark skinned tender who was twenty-two and buck wild. He then pointed to a Dominican who looked like a sista but was Spanish with more ass than a donkey like her counterpart. Ant smiled as he tilted his head back knocking off the rest of the Hennessy. He flagged the waitress down for another then puffed on the cigar as he managed an approving grin to what was going on in front of his eyes. He thought to himself,
so this is what I’ve been missing all these years
.

Love, The Second Time Around

T
he afternoon had been overcast but when she stepped out of her car the sun began to break, a sign of a good day she hoped. She walked down the semi-crowded street that was filled with businessmen and women. There were also shoppers that were on their way to hit the magnificent mile to shop. Lisa arrived at the Grande Lux Café a little before one. It was a nice place on the corner of Michigan Avenue and Ontario. It had large glass windows that overlooked the busy Chicago streets, and when she first walked in she noticed the display of various pastries they had to offer. This was her fist time visiting the cafe and it kind of reminded her of the Cheesecake Factory. She looked around for a second and spotted Devin. He had noticed her and had started coming her way. She started toward him and they met each other halfway, hugging lightly. It was Lisa’s first touch of Devin and she liked the feel of his hard body. He wasn’t muscle-bound ripped but at six feet, two ten and solid arms and chest, she could tell he worked out.

Devin pulled Lisa’s chair out for her and she sat. He was trying to hold back that extra smile when he saw her. She was looking damn good. Her hair was laid straight down with part of it held back behind her right ear exposing her diamond earring and her jeans and halter-top were nice. Especially the way the jeans fit her curves. He assumed she worked out because her body was put together well and little did he know Lisa was thinking the same. When he sat, the beige linen pants and peach colored linen shirt he was wearing lay on his body perfectly, and Lisa took notice. She wondered what he’d look like in his birthday suit—the same thought he’d had seconds ago.