Christmas in the Hood (20 page)

*  *  *

Automated voice: “You have a call from a correctional facility. This call is prepaid. This call is from [voice of Fats] Fats. Please
push five to accept this call; please push seven to block further calls from this person. If you accept the call, push five now.” The automated voice rattled off the instructions after Fats punched in Laquesha’s digits and his pin number. Laquesha pushed five.

“Hey, boo.”

“What’s up, La, you all made it home safe?”

“Yeah, boo, you okay?”

“I’m straight, La. What happened to Melissa?” Fats asked.

“They called the local hillbilly Five-oh and searched her and then they searched the bus and the driver, but they didn’t find nothing. They just made her sit on the bus for the rest of the day,” Laquesha said.

“That’s good. They got Rock in the dry cell, I heard. At least Melissa made it back with you. Did she tell you if Rock was dirty?” Fats asked. “What do you think, Fats? Melissa was real fucked up, boo. She was crying and worried for Rock the whole trip back. She said they gonna give him more time and ship him back out west to the pen. You know he was at Lompoc in Cali before? How the fuck is Melissa supposed to visit him if they send him back out there? One of the girls said that if Rock gets caught with balloons, they’ll take his visits for five years. Now you see why I ain’t doing no shit like that, right?”

Fats cringed at all the bullshit Laquesha was spilling on the phone.
I hope them people ain’t listening right now
, he thought.
This girl trying to blow up the spot.

“Yeah, I hear you, La. Well, how’s the kids?” Fats changed gears.

“They good. I just put them to sleep,” Laquesha said.

“La, let me talk to my little girl.”

“Naw, boo, they
asleep.
I don’t want to wake them up.”

“Damn, La, just let me say hello.”

“Awright.” Fats heard her slam the phone down and a few minutes later he heard his baby girl’s voice on the line.

“Hey, Daddy, I miss you. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby girl. Bye-bye and nighty-night.”

“Bye-bye, Daddy.”

Fats was all good then….

Chapter Four

T
he next morning Fats was up early doing his orderly job. He peeped the Italians going out to the yard and overheard a couple of the gumps on his unit talking about Christmas decorations.

“Girl, you know we got to do something big here this year. We gotta put it down in this unit.”

“I know what you mean, when I was in Fort Dix, they used to have this competition where you decorated a whole TV room. They used to do it up, girl. We would get wrapping paper and cardboard and make little castles with ribbons and snowmen—all kinds of stuff. For real, it was off the chain, girl.”

“They not gonna let us do shit like that here. They probably won’t even let us get a tree or nothing. But if they do, let’s get boxes and wrap them up and put them under the tree like some gorgeous man is buying us presents.” Both the homosexuals laughed.

“You go, girl! You crazy, always dreaming of some real man, when all we got is these broke-ass niggas in here with us that just be wanting us to suck their dicks.”

“Yeah, you right, girl, but a bitch can dream, can’t she? I need a real thug who falls in love with me and buys me presents.”

“You can dream, girl, but ain’t no shit like that happenin’ here. Shit, they probably won’t even let us put up decorations or nothing.”

“Yeah, you right, but still, let’s go talk to the warden at mainline and run it by her bitch ass. We might be able to convince her.”

“Awright, girl.”

After making their plans, the gumps bounced out the unit, too.
Probably going to some illicit rendezvous
, Fats thought.
I don’t understand how some of these niggas can get with that. I’ll never do no shit like that
, Fats told himself. He was repulsed by homosexuals. He could talk to them and shit like that, but he wasn’t down with none of that extra shit. But he knew a lot of brothers were into that sort of thing; they were closet-type dudes. Kept their shit on the low. Fats didn’t know for certain, but he’d heard that some of his homies were like that. It was just something that wasn’t brought up. Fats’s bunkie Mel-Mel called them homothugs. He used to hear Mel-Mel and the other old-timers joking how it was all legal after ten years. Whatever the fuck that meant. That shit would never be legal with Fats.

*  *  *

“Girl, you ain’t heard from Rock yet?” Laquesha said as they sat in the kitchen of her mom’s Barry Farms town house.

“Naw, they probably still got him in the dry cell,” Melissa said to Laquesha.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, Shanice said they kept Country in a dry cell at Lewisburg for eight days before he passed the balloons,” Melissa said. “Rock’s a dumb-ass for doing that shit. If he woulda got me locked up for that bullshit …”

Laquesha gave her girl a hug when she started to tear up.
It’s always dumb-ass niggas getting us girls into trouble
, Laquesha thought. And to think Fats had the nerve to ask her, with the kids and all, to try to do some bullshit like that.

“What do you think they gonna do with him, Laquesha?” Melissa asked.

“Damn girl, I don’t know. That one girl on the bus said they’ll probably take his visits, commissary, and phone for five years.”

“Five years,” Melissa said. “What the fuck am I gonna do?”

Laquesha consoled her again. “Maybe it’s for the best, girl. Maybe you should dump his scandalous ass.” Melissa looked up, not real sure what to say, and Laquesha was thinking that maybe she should dump Fats for even suggesting that shit to her.
But the kids
, she thought.
They love their daddy.

Just then Maurice and Yvette rolled into the kitchen.

“Mo-mo, let me get you,” Yvette squealed. Her brother ran around the kitchen table dodging her.

Just as quickly as they had appeared in the kitchen, they were gone again, laughing and enjoying the pursuits of youth.
It must be nice
, Laquesha thought. Even Melissa smiled for a second, watching the kids, before the burdens that were weighing her
down resumed. Laquesha looked at her watch. “Damn, girl, I gotta get to work.” It was eight-fifteen. “You’ll stay with them and get them off to school?” she asked Melissa, referring to the kids.

“You know I got you, girl. Go ahead.”

“Make sure they eat, okay?”

“I got you,” Melissa said, and yelled to the kids, “Maurice, Yvette, come eat your breakfast. It’s almost time to go to school.”

Laquesha took that as her cue to leave and hurried off to work. She was a hairdresser and she liked her work, but today Kim, Fats’s other baby-mama and her nemesis, had scheduled a nine a.m. appointment to get her hair done. Laquesha tried to stay civil with the girl, but she really didn’t like her. If it wasn’t for little Demitrius, Fats’s son by Kim, Laquesha would have knocked her out by now. Only for the sake of all three of Fats’s kids did she keep the peace.
If only the ho didn’t try me so much
, she thought, walking out the door.

*  *  *

Monique’s Hair Boutique was down on MLK. Kim pulled up in front of the hair salon in her red Honda Accord. It was one of the last things Fats had bought her before he got locked up, and Kim got a kick out of parading it in front of Laquesha’s face since Laquesha didn’t own a car. Kim got out of the car and walked into the boutique to keep her appointment.
This bitch better be here
, she thought.

Kim was all smiles as she walked in the shop. Laquesha saw her and waved her over.

“What’s up, girl, how are you?” Laquesha asked.

“It’s all good. You saw Fats?”

“Yeah, I was there on Saturday. He’s good. He told me to tell you hi,” Laquesha lied.

“Is he doing okay?”

“Yeah, he is, but you won’t believe what happened.”

“What, girl, tell me!” Kim said, on the edge of her seat, thinking that Laquesha better not drop no bomb on her about Fats.

“Well, girl, you know Melissa went up on the bus with me to see Rock. They got busted in the visiting room. They put Rock in a dry cell and almost arrested Melissa. She said she had just passed Rock the balloons to swallow when they got snatched up.”

“Damn, is that so?” Kim was thinking that Fats might ask her to do the same thing. She had been considering it for a while, but she was waiting for him to bring it up. She didn’t want to seem like the money-hungry bitch she was. Actually, she wasn’t sure if she’d do it, but she knew her brother had got his girl to do it for him before when he was locked down in Lorton, and Kim had helped her brother’s girl stuff the balloons. So she knew how to do it, and the extra money wouldn’t hurt. The stash Fats had left before he got sent away was drying up, and to think when Fats first got knocked he had told her to give half the money to Laquesha. Kim wasn’t having that, though. She told Fats that the cops had found and took the money when they searched her apartment. She didn’t like the bitch, Laquesha, and sure as hell wasn’t giving her no money. That was for her and little Demitrius. The only reason she even fucked with Laquesha was because of Fats’s two other children. She wanted little Demitrius to know his brother and sister. They were nice kids, no matter who their mom was.

Laquesha was nodding up and down as she started to do Kim’s hair. “And guess what?” Laquesha said conspiratorially.

“What?” Kim said, ignoring Laquesha. She was thinking about Christmas coming up. Some extra money would be right on the spot.

Laquesha was blabbering on as she did Kim’s hair, and all of a sudden something drew Kim’s attention. “Fats asked you what?” she blurted out, startling Laquesha, who quickly regained her composure.

“He asked me to smuggle some balloons in for him.” But she spoke real low into Kim’s ear, because the whole salon was ear hustling after Kim’s outburst.

Kim thought,
This asshole Fats! He asked her before he asked me.
She could still turn it to her advantage.

“What did you tell him?” Kim asked.

Laquesha looked taken aback by her question. “What do you think I told him, girl?” Laquesha replied. “I told him
hell
no. I think that nigga crazy. He already got himself locked up. Now he wants to jeopardize me and my kids.
Hell
no.”

Kim smiled inwardly, thinking,
This dumb bitch don’t want no money.

“Hell no,” Laquesha continued. “And especially after what happened to Melissa. Not this girl.” Kim’s smile grew outwardly now, and Laquesha noticed.

“What are you smiling about, girl?” Laquesha asked suspiciously.

“Nothing. Why, Laquesha?” Kim asked, and checked her smile.

“You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you, Kim?”

“What do you mean?” Kim asked coyly. Too coyly for Laquesha’s tastes.

“Hell no, girl. Don’t do it,” Laquesha warned.

“Don’t do what?”

“It’s all over your face, Kim. Don’t even go up there and mess it up for all of us. My kids got a right to see their daddy. Don’t fuck that up, it’s all we got.”

Kim checked her hair in the mirror that Laquesha was holding up, took a fifty-dollar bill out of her purse, stood up, handed the money to Laquesha, and thanked her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Laquesha. Just so you know, I’ll be taking lil’ Demitrius to see his father this weekend. Thanks again for doing my hair.” With that, Kim was out the door.

Laquesha was mad at herself for putting Kim up on what was going on.
This money-hungry dumb-ass bitch better not get Fats hemmed up.
She folded the fifty-dollar bill and put it in her bra. She then looked around for her next appointment.

Chapter Five

T
hat afternoon Fats was playing ball with his homies in the prison gym. The games were intense and served as a stress release for the prisoners. Sometimes things got so heated, some drama would follow, but usually cooler heads prevailed. For real, dudes were just trying to get some rec and let off some steam.

“You can’t check me, nigga,” a cat named High-Top from Philly told Fats.
Dude was good for real
, Fats thought, but him and
his homies had held the floor for three straight games and they weren’t looking to give up the floor anytime soon. As long as they kept winning the games, which went up to twelve by ones, then they didn’t have to leave the floor. If they lost, it would be a long wait, a rack of jokers had called next and were waiting their turn to play. Fats knew if they lost that would be it, because the CO would be calling recall soon.

High-Top had the ball and made his move. He crossed Fats up and went to the hoop, but Fats’s big homie Murk had his back. Murk skied in the air to meet the Philly cat, hitting him hard, knocking High-Top to the ground.

“Foul, nigga,” the Philly cat said from the floor as he watched the shot he had thrown up at the last minute roll around the rim and go in for the game-winning point. He jumped up. “That’s game,” he said.

But Murk quickly disagreed. “You called ball, nigga. Take it up top,” Murk growled.

But High-Top wasn’t having it.

“Naw, dawg,” he said. “That’s game. Who got next?” he screamed, looking to the bleachers. But the dudes from D.C. weren’t moving off the court. Fats stepped up to the Philly cat.

“Look, moe, if you hadn’t called foul, it would’ve been your game, but you called ball, so the point don’t count.”

“Naw, fuck that, that’s game. Who got next?”

As the other players on High-Top’s team argued his point, the team that had next walked onto the court. Fats and the other D.C. soldiers were ready to say fuck it, but their big homie Country came over and grabbed the ball.

“Fuck that, it’s ball up top,” he said, and stood there with the
ball, daring the Philly dude or anyone else to say something. Fats and his other homies, knowing Country’s reputation on the pound, decided to hold their ground, come what may. It was a tense standoff that happened almost every day in prison. Dudes drew lines and dared other prisoners to step over them. If someone stepped over the line that was drawn, things could get violent quick. That was the way it was. Sometimes a man’s pride could get him seriously hurt or killed. Especially around the holidays, when some got in their feelings easier. All it took was a spark. But the Philly cats didn’t take the bait.