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Authors: Brandi Johnson

BOOK: Powder Blu
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After my shower, I quickly got dressed, brushed my hair into a ponytail, and headed toward the door.
“You betta be yo' ass home before dark,” my momma warned as I opened up the front door.
“Yeah, a'iiiight,” I responded and continued on my way.
“Fast-ass hefah,” I heard her say as I closed the door behind me.
I jumped on the elevator and rode it down to the first floor. I held my breath the entire time because I couldn't stand the putrid piss smell every time I got on. I stepped off and ran into Budz and some other random niggas who were having a dice game in the hallway.
“Hey, Budz.” I smiled widely as my heart skipped a few beats.
He looked up briefly from the dice game and smiled. “Hey, sis, wassup?”
I hated when he called me sis. “Nothin', 'bouta go blow somethin'. I need to get my mind right,” I said, trying to sound grown.
“Blow what? Some candy cigarettes?” He laughed, making the other niggas laugh too.
“Some weed, what else you think I'm gon' smoke?” I answered, embarrassed while rolling my eyes, knowing damn well I didn't know anything about smoking weed.
“You need to have yo' ass in school,” he said before rolling the dice.
“I go to school,” I lied.
“Whatever,” Budz said hitting a quick lick before grabbing his money off the floor and standing up. “Miguel home?” he asked, counting his winnings.
“Yeah, his fat-ass up there,” I joked.
Budz shook his head and smiled before pressing the button on the elevator. I watched as he stepped on. He hit the number seven button and winked at me as the doors closed.
With chills running up and down my spine, I hurried out of the apartment building to go brag to my girls Nikki and Sierra about how Budz just tried to get on with me!
Chapter 2
From Rags to Riches
“Bitch, please, Budz ain't checkin' for you.” Sierra laughed before taking a pull from the blunt.
“Don't hate 'cause he turned yo' funky-ass pussy down.” I laughed too, knowing good and well Budz wasn't thinking about me for real.
“Ooooh, she cracked yo' chin,” Nikki instigated.
Nikki and Sierra were my girls and even though they were three years older than me we still had a bond that couldn't be broken. Nikki was short with naturally nappy hair that she kept in braids and weaves so much her follicles were shy around the edges. She had a caramel-colored complexion, and was somewhat overweight from having her kids back to back. What made Nikki attractive to niggas was she was a freak and down for whatever, or so I'd heard. My girl Sierra was busted but loyal. She was tall and had a gangly build. The prettiest thing about Sierra was her long, pretty hair that she wore in a wrap. She was high yellow with hazel eyes. Sierra was always talking 'bout who she was gon' get on with but all she ever did was sit 'round and smoke and drink. She was an only child with a heroin addict for a mother who didn't give a fuck about her; that's why she spent so much time at Nikki's house. Nikki was more like family than a friend to her. Sierra really didn't have a choice but to be at Nikki's though; every other month their utilities was getting cut off 'cause her momma was steady shooting the bill money up in her arms. My momma always said I hung around basic, ordinary bitches 'cause that was the only way I could stand out. My own momma was a hater, she just didn't know I'ma stand out no matter who I was with.
“Bitch, shut up and go in that nasty house of yours and get us a cup of Kool-Aid. Shit it's hot as fuck out here,” Sierra said wiping the sweat from her brow.
“It sure is,” I agreed as we sat out on the front porch in the smoldering sun for hours watching niggas ride up and down the street.
“I don't got nothin' to drink in there. You welcome to some faucet water.” Nikki laughed before passing the blunt to me.
“Bitch, I don't want no water.” Sierra frowned.
“Let's walk to the corner store and get a pop,” I suggested after I stopped coughing.
“Gimme that blunt.” Sierra laughed taking it from my hand. “You don't know a damn thang about smokin' weed. I don't even know why we let you smoke wit' us.”
“I'm hip.” Nikki laughed too.
“Shut up and let's go to the store.” I smiled.
“I don't got nobody to watch my kids,” Nikki said, not feeling like toting three toddlers down to the store.
“Well give me yo' food stamp card and I'll bring you back somethin' to drink,” I looked over at Nikki and said.
“Shit, bitch, it's the end of the month. I don't got nothin' on my card,” Nikki said.
“If you quit sellin' 'em to the weed man, you would have some food stamps at the end of the month.” Sierra laughed.
“Puhleese, you know a bitch gots ta get high,” Nikki replied.
“Well gimme some money then,” I said, shaking my head.
“Stank, bring Mommy her purse,” Nikki yelled into the house at her three-year-old daughter.
Sierra and I waited impatiently for Nikki's daughter to bring her purse.
“Shit, what's takin' her so long? I'm thirsty,” Sierra huffed.
“Stank, bring me my damn purse,” Nikki hollered again.
“Fuck it, I got some money, what you want to drink?” I asked not being able to take it any longer. I needed something to drink and fast.
“See if Lenny will let you buy a Four Loco,” Nikki said.
“Damn, bitch, I only got five dolla's; how much they cost?” I asked.
“I don't know,” Nikki said, shrugging her shoulders.
“Let's go. I'll give you the rest,” Sierra said standing up and walking off the porch.
“Y'all hurry back,” Nikki called out as me and Sierra made our way down the walk.
“Okay,” I responded.
“I can't believe Nikki might be pregnant again,” Sierra said shaking her head as we headed to the store.
“I know, man, damn. She already got three kids. I don't know what she gon' do.”
“I'll tell you one thing she needs to do and that's stop fuckin'.” Sierra laughed.
“True.” I laughed too, but as soon as we turned the corner my smile quickly faded as I watched the police handcuffing Miguel, Budz, and another nigga named Vomo.
“What the fuck?” I frowned as me and Sierra took off running to see what was going on with my brother and his dude. “What's goin' on?” I asked one of the arresting officers.
“Ma'am, I'm gon' need you step back,” he said, throwing his arm out.
“I ain't goin' no muthafuckin' where until I find out what's goin' on wit' my brother,” I snapped off.
“Come on, Blu,” Sierra said grabbing me by my arm.
“Get the fuck off me,” I said, snatching away from her.
“Ma'am, step the fuck back before we take you right along with 'em,” another officer intervened.
“I don't give a fu—”
“Blu, be the fuck quiet,” Budz yelled, cutting me off in midsentence.
“What's goin' on?” I asked Budz as tears filled my eyes. Even though me and my brother didn't get along all the time, it still hurt me to see him getting arrested.
“Just go home and tell yo' momma to come down to the station ASAP and bond Miguel out and I'll pay her back when I touch down,” Budz said in a demanding tone.
“What about you?” I asked as the tears fell.
“I'm not gettin' out no time soon, sis, so just go do what I told you to do,” he instructed before they shoved him into the back of the police cruiser.
I looked over at Miguel one last time before hurrying home to tell my momma what had just gone down at the corner store.
“What the fuck you mean they got arrested?” my mom jumped up off the couch and yelled frantically. “What they do?”
“I don't know. All I know is they was bein' handcuffed when me and Sierra turned the corner,” I said.
“Damn, I wonder if they was clean,” my mom said as she paced through the living room.
“I don't know,” I answered even though she wasn't asking me. “Budz said come down and bond Miguel out ASAP and he'll pay you back soon as he gets out,” I said.
“I got money comin' over. I don't got time to be sittin' down at that damn police station all night fuckin' wit' yo' brother,” my mom snapped off.
“I can handle yo' business while you gon', Momma,” I said, surprising myself and her.
My momma looked at me as if I were crazy. “Yeah, right,” she finally said. “You might fuck my money up and then I'ma hafta fuck you up!”
“I think she can handle it, Stacey,” Troy added.
I looked over at Troy and smiled.
My momma thought for a brief minute before giving in. “Okay, come on,” she said leading me into the kitchen. She pulled the Epsom salt box from under the cabinet before walking over to the cabinet over the stove and pulling out a box of Fruit Loops and a bag of sugar and placing them on the counter. “Okay, now if somebody comes with $125 you give them a quarter ounce outta the Epsom Salt carton. If they come with twenty dolla's give them something out of the Fruit Loop box, and if they got fifty dolla's give them something from the bag of sugar, you understand?”
I wanted to ask her how come she just didn't keep all her shit in one box, but I was afraid she might change her mind if I got to asking questions. “Yes, ma'am,” I answered.
“Repeat what I said then,” she said, making sure I really understood.
My mom gave me the nod of approval after I repeated everything she had just told me.
“Now I'm not playin', Blu; don't fuck my money up!” she warned again.
“I won't. I can handle this,” I said, trying to sound in control. I was excited and nervous.
“Oh, before I forget,” she said, reaching into her big bosoms. “If a nigga get outta line, don't hesitate to use this.” She pulled out a nickel-plated .22 and placed it in my hand.
My hand shook like Don Knots as I held on to the cold piece of steel. I hated guns. The thought of one being in the house had me on edge.
“Come on, Troy, let's go,” my momma said as she and Troy headed out of the kitchen leaving me to tend to the family's farm. As soon as I heard the front door close, I quickly threw the gun down on the kitchen counter.
I walked into the living room, turning on the TV before sitting down on the couch. I began watching an episode of
Breaking Bad
before getting bored and drifting off to sleep only to be awakened by somebody beating on the door.
“Who is it?” I asked jumping up from the couch with my heart beating fast as hell.
“Laroy, ya got somethin' good for me?” he asked.
I walked over to the door and put my eye up to the peephole. I always thought Laroy was too damn old to smoke crack. He had to have been at least seventy-nine years old, but hey money was money so I opened the door and let him in.
“Where ya momma at?” he asked as he fidgeted while looking around the house.
He was kinda making me nervous so I had to hurry up and get him up outta here. “She ain't here, what you want?” I asked, remembering my momma always saying she hold as little conversation as possible just in case they were wired up.
“Fifty,” Laroy answered while pulling a crinkled-up fifty dolla' bill out of his dirty pants pocket still looking around as if he was about to steal something.
“Stay here,” I demanded and turned to walk away. I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a rock out of the sugar bag. I looked over at the gun on the counter and even though I hated guns, I'd rather be safe than sorry just in case Laroy tried some shady shit. I placed the gun on my side and headed back into the living room. I stuck out my hand and waited for Laroy to give me his money before making the exchange. He looked at the dope, smiled, and hurried out the door.
For the next three hours my momma's house was popping. Feins ran in and out the house like I was giving away government cheese. I had made her close to $1,000. My mom was happy as hell when she came home and found out her baby girl had handled her business like a true soldier. I was glad Miguel was home but sad at the same time because I found out that Budz was wanted on a gun charge and was facing up to three years.
“Here,” my momma said walking into my room and handing me a hundred dollar bill.
“What's this for?” I asked surprised.
“It's ten percent of what you made me tonight. I'm proud of you.” She smiled before turning to walk away.
I couldn't believe my momma actually paid me for the work I had put in for her. I was even more surprised to hear her say she was proud of me. I climbed out of my bed and hid my earnings in the back of my closet. I climbed back in bed and looked up at the ceiling. I was trying to figure out what I was going to do with all that money. I knew the first thing I was going to do was buy me some new clothes and a pair of shoes. After that night I knew what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to sell crack, not for my momma or anybody else; I wanted to do it for myself. Getting a percentage of what I sold was cool but I wanted to keep all the money for myself. I didn't have a supplier and I knew my momma wasn't going to let me buy from her. I knew in order for me to get started I would have to start taking her shit.
 
 
After realizing her stash was coming up short, instead of blaming me or Miguel she started blaming Troy. He tried to convince her that it wasn't him. Like I said before my momma didn't play about her money so she put Troy's ass out. With Troy out of the picture I knew I had to find my own supplier or she'd know it was me taking her dope for sure. Before long I was buying my shit from my momma's competition over on seventy-ninth and selling it on the corner or in the hallway on the first floor before they could get up to our apartment. My mom was so occupied with trying to figure out who was taking her clientele she didn't even notice all the new clothes and shoes I was sporting.
I had it made up in my mind that I was taking this dope game to the top and before long I would be the queen pin of Chicago. Whether these niggas liked it or not, Blu Angel was about to come up and take over.

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