Karma's a Bitch (2 page)

“Well now you do.” Just as he was saying those words Scoop came up from behind Tonya and reached over the girl’s shoulder to grasp Tony’s hand.

“What’s up my man,” Tony said, smirking and giving Scoop a look. He and Scoop were always competing over women. “Yo hold up for a moment doggie.”

Scoop returned the look and nodded his head. He walked up the stairs to the movie theater and greeted some people he knew standing around.

“So listen, Tonya, let me get your number and we’ll go catch a flick or something,” Tony said pulling out his cell phone, not waiting for an answer of ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ When he was ready he looked up and nodded to Tonya to indicate that he was ready for the number.

“747…….2382.” Tonya ran off and then leaned over to make sure he got it right. Tony finished up the entry and then reached over to give her a hug.

“I’ll holla at you later tonight, aiight?” he said with a smile and then walked up the steps to where Scoop had gone.

“You got that man?” Scoop asked. Scoop was a good looking chocolate brother with a goatee. He had just the right amount of weight, the right amount of height and just a little too much game. The women, especially the young girls, were damn near throwing their panties at him as if he were a Platinum selling rapper. To him there wasn’t enough time in the day to deal with all the women on his roster.

“Yea, you know. That shit wasn’t nuffin’. These bitches is too easy,” Tony answered with a cocky smile, satisfied that Scoop had been there to witness him pulling in a number. He wasn’t as good looking as Scoop, but he had a way with the ladies that more than compensated for his average looks.

They headed across the street to Modells laughing and talking. So much that they didn’t notice the Chevy Cavalier coming full speed around the corner towards them.

Unfortunately the car made it’s round right after Scoop and Tony had stepped into the street. The driver came to a screeching halt as soon as humanly possible, but not until after clipping Tony on the left thigh and making him fall back into the right side of the windshield. Tony turned in the same motion and his face and left hand dragged down the windshield before he finally fell back down into the street. The car screeched off down the street.

“Tony! Tony, you alright man!?” Scoop yelled leaning down to help his friend and trying to turn to get a look at the license plate of the car. But it was too late, the driver was already making a right down Market Street.

Tony had gotten hit, for sure, but not to the point where he was dying. He slowly leaned back up to a sitting position, and then grabbed Scoops arm as he helped him up. A girl driving one of the cars on the other side of the street was holding her mouth and bobbing back and forth in hysterical laughter along with her friend in the passenger seat.

“Yea, I guess I’m alright. Damn. That muthafucka hit me!” he yelled, looking around and becoming extremely embarrassed at the stares he was getting from people on the sidewalk who had witnessed everything. A few young boys had started to giggle. He suddenly wished he had stayed on the ground and faked paralysis or death.

“Shit man, I couldn’t even get a plate number. I’m sorry dude,” Scoop said patting his friend on the back and leading him back towards the store while walking slightly behind. Scoop turned to the right and closed his eyes as he held his lips together with his other hand and fought back a chuckle with every ounce of restraint in his body.

It was 8:14pm that same day. Quanisha reached down to pick up the quarter she had just dropped. She was standing at the payphone at the Acme Supermarket where she worked trying to call home. After trying several times in vain to pick the quarter up from the dusty white floor, she finally managed to grab a corner and lift it up with her to the phone again. She became lightheaded from getting up too fast and reeled for a few seconds before being able to see the buttons of the payphone clearly again. She resumed chewing her gum loudly as she put the coin into the payslot.

Quanisha was born and raised in West Philadelphia. As a teen she regularly brawled with the other girls on her block and at school, mostly over boys and gossip. Of course because of this, she had a snap’s worth of hair, almost two inches, from it constantly being pulled out. She, like a lot of her peers, was forced to wear weaves and braids on a regular basis to cover her wild hair. The complexion of Tamyra Gray from American Idol, Quanisha wasn’t fat, but had wide hips, a thick behind and thighs choking beneath a tight pair of jeans underneath her Acme smock. She punched the numbers to her house phone to check her messages or talk to Tony and leaned her elbow on top of the phone while she played with one of her long brown braids. The phone rang once. Then again. Then for a third time. And just as Quanisha was shifting her weight and waiting for her voicemail to pick up she was nearly floored by the sound of a female’s voice on the other line.

“Hello?” the girl asked as if she was answering the phone at her own house.

Quanisha was silent as the blood again rushed to her head and her heart began thumping against her chest in anger.

“Who the FUCK is this??” she finally screamed into the phone, startling a few nearby customers who were leaving the store with their wagons.

“What? This Keisha bitch, who dis?” the animated female voice snarled back.

“Who—” before the frazzled Quanisha could complete her sentence she heard a dial tone. She looked at the phone like it was starting to sprout sunflowers right before her eyes.

“Oh fuck nawl,” she said and slammed the phone down on the receiver with all her might. She undid her smock and threw it off angrily to the side, grabbed her purse off the window ledge and left the store in a huff without saying a word to her boss or co-workers.

Tony stood stationary in the bedroom holding Quanisha’s phone in his hand as he glared dead into Keisha’s eyes. He was still dripping from his shower and holding onto the towel around his waist. He was half trying to figure out what he was going to do about Quanisha, and half brainstorming on which ditch was deep enough to bury Keisha’s body in.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he finally screamed as he slammed the phone down, almost breaking its flimsy red base.

“I thought—” was all the now scared Keisha managed to whimper out before Tony gripped her up with both hands, letting his towel fall to the floor and literally threw her into the closet door. Keisha hit her head back against the door and slid down to the floor. She shook her head side to side to stay conscious. Tony wasn’t finished though.

He rushed over to her before she had a chance to get up from her seated position and slapped her hard across the face with his open palm.

“Tony, please! NO. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” she pleaded as he leaned down and gripped her by the cut-off T-shirt she was wearing.

“Bitch! I should choke your stupid ass to death right now!! You tryin’ to fuck with my situation?” He shook her violently, ripping the cheap shirt slightly at the seams. “What the fuck is wrong with you answering my girl’s phone! That’s my place to sleep you messin’ with right there!”

Keisha was crying by then. She whispered: “Tony I’m so so sorry. It’ll never happen again…”

“You damn right it won’t happen again. Cuz I’m done with your ass,” Tony growled at her and finally let her go. He walked over to the towel on the floor and started drying himself off quickly. He scoured the floor for his underclothes.

“Tony no baby. I swear to you I’ll never do nothin’ like that again. I promise.” Keisha gathered herself and attempted to get up from the floor.

“Get dressed and get the fuck out. NOW,” Tony yelled as he pulled on his boxers and a wife beater. He hustled over to the closet where Keisha now stood clutching her shirt together and pushed her aside roughly to find a pair of jeans. Keisha nearly hit the corner of the bedroom door from the force, but recovered just in time.

“No! Tony don’t do this to me, I said I was sorry!” she continued pleading as Tony pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt from the top shelf of the closet. He looked at Keisha as if she were crazy for still being there, but then had a second thought.

“Give me some money,” he demanded. Keisha just looked at him for a moment, partially shocked at his quick change of tune. He ignored her and walked over to bed to start fixing the sheets. He reached underneath the bed to retrieve the Febreze he kept there specifically for situations such as these.

“How much do you need?” Keisha said as she quickly walked over to her bag, which was still laying on the floor along with her gray jean skirt. She pulled out her change purse but before she could even open it, Tony grabbed it out of her hand. He pulled out all the bills he could find, about 80 dollars, and shoved it in his pocket. Keisha stood by silently. He then grabbed Keisha’s jean skirt off the floor and shoved it and the change purse at her before pulling her by the arm out of the bedroom and towards the front door.

“I’ll call you aiight? DON’T call me,” Tony instructed as he unlatched the door and opened it.

“When?” Keisha said, suddenly getting a backbone. Tony pushed her out the door, even though she was still dressed in her T-shirt and panties.

“I said I will CALL YOU. Damn! You stand outside there for long like that and I won’t be responsible for what happens to your ass when Quanisha show up,” he warned and slammed the door in her face. Tony was starting to think maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have women over Quanisha’s house when she wasn’t at home. It was too risky.

Tony rushed to the back and scanned Quanisha’s bedroom once more. He squeezed a few more sprays of Febreze out around the room, picked up his black pants and shirt from the floor and threw them in her hamper. Pleased with the look of the room, he went into the bathroom and shaved as quickly as he could. He splashed aftershave on and headed down the hall to the living room where he leaned over and switched on the TV. As he was finally sitting down, he heard keys jingling aggressively at the door. He lounged back on the couch as if he had been sitting there all day, watching Punk’d on MTV.

Quanisha flew through the door and rushed at Tony. She threw the hand up that was holding her bag and brought it down hard on Tony’s head before he could react. She got him. The blow shook Tony and gave her the opportunity to get in a few punches to his chest and neck before he finally regained his composure and managed to grab her hands and hold her back as he got up from the couch.

“Baby! Baby what the hell is wrong with you? Calm down,” he tried to persuade her.

“Where the fuck is she?? Where is that bitch. Imma kill that bitch!” she screamed obscenities as she struggled wildly to break loose from Tony’s grip.

“What? What the hell are you talking about she?”

“Nigga don’t play dumb with me! I heard that bitch. She got the nerve to be in my house and put her hands on my phone?!?! Imma kill the ho!” she spat and finally got away from Tony. She ran into the back room and searched for Keisha, but didn’t find anything, but a fresh smelling bedroom, and no sign of a woman in the bathroom. Tony followed behind her.

“‘Nish, I really don’t know what you talkin’ about right now, but you need to calm the fuck down,” Tony said through clenched teeth, feigning anger.

“Nigga that bitch answered my phone. How you gonna try to tell me different? Where is she?” she said walking right up to within an inch from his face and throwing her finger up towards his head. She stood only two inches shorter than Tony.

“Nish, I’m telling you, I don’t know what you talkin’ about. I only
been
here for a half hour, I was watching Punk’d on TV!”

“Then who the fuck just answered my phone earlier. Some bitch Keisha answered my phone! Explain that shit!” she pushed her finger into the side of his face. Tony grit his teeth before continuing with his lies.

“Girl that phone ain’t ring since I been here. You probably called the wrong number. Ever think of that?”

Quanisha huffed, out of breath, and looked around, then at the floor and finally back up to Tony, still seemingly unconvinced. She cocked her head to the side and listened.