Crave All Lose All (10 page)

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Authors: Erick Gray

BOOK: Crave All Lose All
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“I need a shower,” Shae said, walking into the bathroom. I was sprawled out on my bed staring at TV, thinking. The package was dropped off and I was ten-thousand dollars richer. It was easy money for once. At my old airline job I couldn’t make ten-thousand dollars in one month, even with overtime.
I smiled. I was in Albany, alone in a room with a beautiful woman and I had some money to spend. I heard the shower running and thinking about Shae’s beautiful, petite figure wrapped around me got my dick hard.
I removed my shirt exposing my six -pack. It was a humid night and the air conditioner in the room wasn’t making the room any cooler. I sat at the foot of the bed thinking about finally being able to do for my son.
Shae stepped out the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around her. Her hair was wet and I couldn’t help but admire her.
“You got a problem with your fucking eyes?” she barked pulling out fresh panties and bra out of her bag.
“Yo, why you giving me such a hard time, beautiful? What you think I’m about?” I asked.
She glared at me and said, “I know your type, cocky, arrogant and you probably got women all over. What, you wanna fuck me! Just because we’re sharing a room doesn’t mean i’m giving you some pussy. Y’ all niggas are all alike”
I chuckled. “Luv, you don’t even know what I’m about. You’re working for Tyriq just like me.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she replied.
“That’s bullshit, we all got choices.”
“Well, you don’t know my situation,” she said.
“And you don’t know mines,” I spat back.
She was shocked at my comeback. I dug her attitude and respected her.
I stood and said, “Listen, This here is temporary for me, until I get some dough saved and get back on my feet.”
I began telling her about my situation, from the troubles with my pops and how he died, with my moms losing her house, to losing my job and needing to provide for my son.
I threw my shirt back on and slid into my boots. I needed a walk. Shae was quiet as I walked by her and had my hand on the doorknob.
“My son has autism,” she said.
I slowly made my way back into the room and caught her gaze. Her eyes were sad and her mind seemed troubled.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He’s three and he needs a lot of treatment, and that cost money. I had him when I was sixteen and his father doesn’t care for him at all. He says it’s my fault that our son is retarded. He called his own son retarded. His father makes tons of money in the streets, but don’t give me a dime, cuz he doesn’t make handicap kids, that what he tells me. So I gotta do for him, alone.”
Shae started getting ready for bed. She was young and scared, I understood.
“I’m going to the store, you want anything?” I asked.
“No, thanks,” she said.
“I’ll be back.”
I stared at her before walking out the room.
“If the world didn’t suck, then we’d fall off.”
She smiled.
“You have a beautiful smile.”
I walked out the room feeling good knowing that I wasn’t the only one with problems. Some problems are much greater than others. I took a quick walk searching to forget about my situation in Queens. Tonight I wanted to be new.
Twelve
It was like a breath of fresh air when Tyriq handed me the small envelope filled with hundred-dollar bills. I wore a huge smile on my face. So much money in my hands, now bills could get paid and the many things I could get me and my son, clouded my mind.
“Ayyite, Vince, you did good,” Tyriq complimented.
We sat in his parked truck, watching the night, puffing Black & Mild, I stuffed the envelope in my pocket.
“I’m gonna need for you to do another run for me soon.”
I was feeling dubious but never let it get in the way. “Where to…?”
“Philly.”
“Never been there,” I told him.
“You’ll love it out there, it’s only about an hour and half ride,” he said.
“Shae coming…?” I asked.
He smiled, took a few pulls and said, “You feeling that, huh.”
“She cool,” I smiled nodding.
“You fucked her in Albany?”
“Nah, we kicked it,” I said. My mind started wondering if Tyriq had fucked Shae. I was too scared to know the truth. I let it be.
“Talk…?” Tyriq said.
I was ready to hop out his truck and get some sleep.
“Yeah, I’m gonna give you call. And be ready for that trip.”
I got out not trying to even think of another trip. Tyriq looked like he
wasn’t gonna take any shorts. Another ten grand in the bank wouldn’t be too bad, though.
It would be a week before I’d leave for Philly. The following day I stashed some of the money under my mattress and went shopping on Jamaica Avenue with the rest. I picked up some things for my son, and myself. It felt good not worrying about pricing shit. Whatever my eyes rested on, I was able to afford. I hit up so many sneaker and clothing stores, that the money felt endless.
I went into the Coliseum mall on 165
th
street and walked downstairs into the jewelry exchange. Soon the owners were calling me to booths, each offering to give me a better price on any piece of jewelry. I had eight grand on me and kept reminding myself that
I’d pay bills, saving the rest for a rainy day
. That thought didn’t last long.
I spotted an expensive necklace that would fit perfect around my neck. The last piece of jewelry I bought was back in ’96.
“That piece right there…?” I asked the Hindu man behind the glass counter.
He removed the piece I was pointing at. “I’ll give you good deal, my friend.”
I examined it closer. It was a heavy white gold necklace matching 18K diamond cross pendant which would look impressive around my neck.
“For you, fifteen hundred…”
Treat yourself for once, Vince
, I told myself. “I’ll take it.”
I walked out the mall feeling like I was on top of the world.
 
I knocked on Chandra’s door carrying bags of clothes and toys for my son. I couldn’t wait to see the look on my son’s face when he saw me. I heard the radio playing so I knocked harder. The apartment door opened and Chandra stood in front of me looking so good in a pair of tight blue jeans and a tight T-shirt that highlighted her thick breasts.
“Vincent,” she said, wide eyed. “Why didn’t you call?”
“I was in the area. I got some stuff for my son.” I held up the bags.
“Oh…but I got company.”
“Yo, I’m here to see my son,” I blurted.
“And you should’ve called first,” she repeated standing in the doorway and blocking the view inside.
“Chandra, I don’t give a fuck who you got in your apartment, I’m not here for you. I’m only here to see my son and give him the gifts that I got for him,” I said. I was lying. I wanted to see her.
She sighed and stepped aside, allowing me entrance. I walked in and was upset to see my son sitting on the lap of the same dreadlock dude I had the stare-down with from before.
“Daddy,” my son shouted jumping up and running to me. I scooped him up in my arms hugging him tightly.
“What’s up lil’ man. You miss me?” I asked.
“Yes, daddy,” he said hugging me.
“Guess what.”
“What?”
“Daddy’s got some gifts for you.”
“Yeah…” My son beamed with joy when he saw the three bags.
I remembered that Chandra had company and wished the nigga would disappear. He was in a black and gray tracksuit. His long dreads tied together neatly in a ponytail and sporting a nice Rolex and diamond studs in his ears. It felt awkward with him being there.
Chandra felt the tension and came over to introduce us. She stood between us, glanced at him and me and said, “Vincent, this is Jamal…Jamal, this is Vincent, my son’s father.”
He gave me a slight head nod, but I didn’t return it. I tried to let his smirk not affect my mood. My son tugged at my shirt and then went digging into one of the bags.
“Daddy…daddy, you got me toys?” he asked excitedly.
“Daddy got you plenty of things.” I said squatting next to him pulling out a remote control car.
“Wow!” my son exclaimed.
It was like Christmas day for him. I bought Vinny name brand clothes and top of the line toys.
“You must’ve found a great job,” Chandra said bewildered.
A look of disproval greeted her. She backed off knowing what my stare meant. Being around my son, I kept my cool. It made me beam with joy
watching my son pulling out toys.
“Thank you daddy,” my son said.
“Well ain’t you the Santa Clause,” Chandra said. Her arms were folded across her chest and she was eyeing me suspiciously.
Vinny reached into the bag with the PS2 game system and screamed. “Wow! Mommy, I got another one,” my son hollered.
“Another one…?” I questioned.
“Yeah, daddy…Uncle Jamal bought me one too.”
“What?”
I was furious.
“Mi heard, lil’ Vinny talk about di PS2, and mi took da time out ta buy him one,” he said in thick Jamaican accent. He got up off the couch and walked over.
“You his fucking father…?”
“Vincent,” Chandra shouted.
I glared at him with hatred.
“Bredren, mi respect ya position…mi ain’t tryin’ to intrude.”
“Like hell you ain’t nigga!”
He shrugged and walked over to Chandra. “Chandra, tell ya blood-claat friend, him want no trouble fi mi…mi a real shotta bwoy, mind ya nah get cap inna ya rassclaat face,” he said.
“What da fuck you sayin’!” I shouted getting closer. “Speak fucking English, nigga; this fucking America, not some third world town in Jamaica.”
“Vincent, shut up!” Chandra yelled getting between us like a referee.
Tears were forming in my son’s eyes and I said to him, “Everything okay, lil’ man. We’re just adults in a small dispute, nuthin’ ain’t gonna happen.”
I looked up and saw Jamal pulling Chandra to the door by her arms. He back stepped, open the apartment door, and I heard him say, “Mi gwan go before mi get vex.” I peeped them hugging and kissing before he walked out. “Ya no wah vex a man like me.”
I couldn’t wait for him to get the fuck out. When he was in the hallway, Chandra slammed the door and shouted, “Vincent, what’s wrong
with you?”
“What’s wrong…?” I retorted. “I come up in here and see my son sitting on that nigga’s lap. And he’s been buying gifts like he’s daddy. What’s wrong with you?”
“I needed help and wasn’t getting shit from you. What else am I suppose to do? He’s looking-out. Now you wanna flip on me cause you gotta a little cash to spend? You wanna scream on me in my own place. I told you that I had company. And I told you to call before you come here,” she screamed.
“That ain’t no excuse to have that nigga around my son,” I barked.
“You could be so damn impossible to deal with!”
We were screaming at each other and forgot our son. He was crying for us to stop fighting. I felt bad. I hugged him but resented what Chandra did. She was looking for a man who could give her financial security. Jamal looked like he had plenty of finance. I had to get my grind on.
Thirteen
I was alone on this trip crossing the Ben Franklin Bridge. It was nine pm., and fifteen kilos were stashed in hidden compartments in the car. I was to meet a man at a club in north Philly, near Broad Street and exchange car keys.
It was my first time in Philly. I didn’t want to get lost and had mapped out the area. The ten grand coming to me wiped any nervousness away and put some pep in me. I was determined to get the job done.
Driving down Broad Street gazing at the structures and people I smoked a Black & Mild cigar. There were cuties outside Temple University, waiting for the bus. And seeing that, I knew Philly had a lot to offer me.
I was in a blue four-door Intrepid, bouncing to Biggie Smalls. The further north I traveled, the more gully it got.
A few Philly heads were hanging outside a run down looking gentlemen’s club on Germantown Avenue. I didn’t want to park the car too far away. So I quickly surveyed the area, driving around the block a few times and parked a few cars from the club.
I got out, secured the car and walked to the place. There weren’t any lines. A bouncer doing a lousy search for guns charged me ten bucks to get in.
I took a long pull from the Black & Mild as I walked in. Ho’s, tricks and dancers sprinkled the dimmed and seedy establishment. Beanie Sigel’s
Stick 2 the Script
blared throughout the club. I eyed the two dancers on stage and smiled. They were butt-naked in stilettos sweating from shaven pussy, shaking their asses.
Money over bitches nigga stick 2 the
script…fuck a dirty bitch…
we cop we flip re-up get back on our shift…

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