Charge It To The Game (4 page)

―What‘s going on? What you want me to look at?‖ ―You see them birds?‖
―Yes, I see ‗em.‖

―You see them birds?‖ Looney Tootie repeated. ―They trying to get in. That‘s what they trying to do.‖

―What you talking about? Birds don‘t wanna go inside nobody house, Miss LT. Birds like to be free. They can‘t be free to fly if they in a house.‖

― Oh, sugar but they do wanna go in. They gotta go in. See when the birds go inside of a house, they ‗bout to let the death angel in.‖

―What?‖
Looney Tootie bent down and whispered. ―Death is coming, Storm.‖

―Miss LT, why you trying to scare me like that?‖ ―Death is on the way.‖
―MISS LT!‖ I screamed. ―Stop that!‖
―I can‘t stop it, Storm.‖
―Yes, you can. Stop talking like that.‖

―Storm, now you know ol‘ Tootie don‘t lie. I ain‘ t never lied to you. And I ain‘t ‗bout to start lying to you either. Don‘t be scared, sugar. I promised you the day was gonna come. Didn‘t I? And when it does, they both goin‘ straight to hell with gasoline draws on.‖

* * *

The next morning, Smoke jumped out of the living room window and killed himself. The word on the street was he got a hold of some bad drugs. Before he jumped, he yelled out to Aunt Hope – ―Look at me, I‘m Superman!‖

My only regret…I wish I had been there to see him fly.
Part II
Things done changed…
Chapter 4

I knew that in order to survive, I had to continue to sell what drove old men crazy and kept them coming back for more. I had mastered wrapping my walls around their penises like no other woman before me and I enjoyed every minute of it. Not the sex– the power and control. Making grown men -20, 30, sometimes 40 years older than me, cry like a newborn baby was an adrenaline rush of infinite power.

I still had no place to call home. Therefore, I slept wherever I grew tired. Sometimes it would be an abandoned building, sometimes I would get one of my Johns to pay for a night at the motel, or sometimes I would sleep at Nee Nee‘s house. When I was really desperate, I slept wherever Miss LT did.

TONYA BLOUNT

Everything I owned, I carried in my blue Jansport back pack. I stopped going to school and I taught myself better than any teacher could have.

I never complained, because all in all living on the streets was still better than with Aunt Hope. Besides, there was a part of me that enjoyed the adventure and the spontaneity of my lifestyle.

Aunt Hope contacted me one time after I left. She had put the word on the street that she had heard from my mother. That was the only way I would go looking for her. Aunt Hope was only able to tell me that Momma was doing fed time for being a mule, and that she was locked up somewhere in West Virginia.

For the fir st time since my mother had left me, I didn‘t feel the urgency or the desire to go searching for her. I felt some relief that she was still alive. However, somewhere along my travels, I had grown to despise her. I finally accepted what Aunt Hope and Smoke unfortunately wouldn‘t let me forget – she had abandoned her responsibility to me and because of that, I had already done hard core street time. Fed time was easy street.
She’s doing better than me
. I reasoned.

By the time I was seventeen, I was ready to find another way to survive. I got bored with the danger, trite of the strange dicks and fed up with the sorry stories that came along with the empty sex. I did everything to my Johns that their wives or women wouldn‘t, I fucked, sucked and unwillingly became an unqualified therapist.

Finally, I walked away from that hustle and went from hoeing myself for $50 a night to making $5,000 a day boosting. I graduated at the top of my class and without looking back, rose to the top -- catering to the big ballers, pimps and drug dealers. I

CHA-CHING

stole and sold everything from televisions and diamonds to fur coats. While shopping in Saks one day, I met Pam -- my right hand chick who introduced me to my first connect in the credit card game. After that, it was a wrap.

Chapter 5
November 2003

I had lived in practically every borough in New York City, and in every imaginable place. Now, home was a spacious three bedroom, two bath penthouse on the 22
^nd
floor at one of the most prestigious addresses in Manhattan: 100 East 86
^th
Street. Eve, Star Jones, Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis were my neighbors. Things had changed.

I had fallen asleep on the living room sofa. The last thing I remembered, I was watching Conan O‘Brien. Madison, the six month old Pit Bull that I had brought as a gift for myself was spread out on the off white carpet right next to me.

―Good morning, Madison,‖ I said in a hoarse and dry voice. ―Good morning,‖ I repeated. Madison popped her head up and playfully rubbed it on my legs. ―How‘s Mommy‘s girl today? Huh?‖

After I played with Madison, I got up and walked toward the floor to ceiling windows which revealed a breathtaking view of Central Park. I would often find myself looking out of that window for hours. The view always calmed my spirit whenever I got caught up in the drama that the streets would often pull me into.

Living so high up made me feel invincible—like I was protected and shielded from the rest of the world.

I don’t feel like going anywhere today.
I thought as I walked toward my bedroom. When I entered my room, my eyes had instantly landed on my off-white chaise. The sight immediately annoyed me -- it was overflowing with clothes that needed to be dry cleaned. I made a mental note to call Rosa, my housekeeper. She had asked for three days off. One day had passed and already things were totally out of order. I hated it, but not enough to trust anyone else to clean my home. Rosa would just have to cut short her time off.

My bedroom was my sanctity. It was lavishly decorated in warm earth tones. Candles in every size and scent were scattered around the room. The bed was a custom made king size four-poster bed imported from Italy. My favorite pastime was lying next to the gas fireplace listening to music.

* * *

It was 11:38. The morning was just about gone and I needed to meet with Pam and Black. I hit the speaker button and began dialing Pam.

The call went straight into voicemail. ―Unh Unh Unh…
my
minutes. Yo, if you see yourself calling me over and over…and I‘m not picking up, that‘s because you‘re not worth my minutes. Take it personal!‖

―Pam, it‘s me...Storm. I called your ass twice last night and you never called me back. You don‘t want
me
to take it personal, I know. Call me back.‖

Then I decided to call Black. He was one of my main connects. He supplied me with names, social security numbers, date of births, addresses– the whole nine yards. I never understood why or for that matter how Black got into the game. Black had a Masters in computer technology. He was smart and could passionately engage in topics ranging from politics, to science, and sports. The rumor was he had extorted money from a top Fortune 500 firm and did a heavy bid for it. When he was released from jail, he amped up his game and took his computer knowledge and prison education to the streets.

―Hey, Storm.‖

―Hey, Black. What‘s going on?‖
―Ain‘t shit. What‘s good with you?‖
―Just trying to hook up and see what‘s
up.‖ ―A‘ight. What time you trying to
do that?‖ ―Is one good for you?‖

―Yeah. That‘s cool…that‘s cool. Where
at?‖ ―Junior‘s?‖
―A‘ight. I‘ll holla at you then.‖
―One.‖

As soon as I put the telephone back on the receiver it rang. I looked at the Caller ID – it was Pam. I picked it up on the first ring.

―Where the fuck you been at?‖ I asked.
―Girl, you don‘t
even
wanna know,‖ Pam
said. ―What happened?‖
―You know that tall black nigga I met last week at Taj‘s

spot?‖
―Yeah…Rocky?‖
―Rock,‖ Pam corrected.

―I don‘t know why you even bother with someone with that kinda name anyway. You were with him?‖

―Yeah, girl,‖ Pam sighed heavily. ― I went over to his house last night and the nigga had me walk into his house backwards. Talking about he have to make sure I don‘t bring no bad spirits in his house and shit. I should have left then. But it was two o‘clock in the morning and I ain‘t feel like driving all the way back home…‘cause he live way out in Rosedale somewhere right next to Green Acres Mall.‖

―Pam! Go on and just tell me what happened…damn.

I hate when you do that.‖
―Okay! Anyway, I ain‘t even gonna get into the freaky
shit he was trying to have me do. I‘ll tell you about that later.
But let me tell you…gurrrrl…since I left this nigga house I‘ve
been sick and I ain‘t have nothing but bad luck. He musta
reverse the shit on
me
!‖
―Don‘t tell me you ate his food.‖
―Nah. But don‘t you know…I‘m driving on Southern
State ready to get off on the Conduit and this car from outta
nowhere came and wrecked my shit up.‖
―Get the fuck outta here! Stop playing!‖
―I ain‘t playing. And that ain‘t all either. The cops
gave
me
a fucking ticket ‗cause they said I didn‘t yield. I ain‘t
never got no ticket before. And the bad part about it is
homeboy car didn‘t have a scratch on it. But he wrecked up
my shit. Now how that happen?‖
―What? The car is messed up
bad?‖ ―The shit is
totaled
Storm!‖
―Did you get hurt?‖
―No, I‘m okay. I‘ll probably be hurting tomorrow
though. I‘m just shaken up. That‘s all. I can‘t believe this shit.
I ain‘t have the car a good month.‖

―Don‘t sweat it though. That nigga ain‘t do nothing to you,‖ I said with a small chuckle, ―it‘s just a coincidence.‖ ―Storm, if I tell you the rest of the story…you ain‘t gonna say that. Believe me.‖

―Well, tell me later I need to start getting
dress.‖ ―All right. What time you trying to hook up?‖ ―One o‘clock at Junior‘s.‖
―Okay.‖
―So wait a minute…did they tow your
car?‖ ―Yeah. I‘ma go get me a rental
later on.‖ ―Where you at now?‖
―I‘m downtown…trying to find me something to

wear. I‘m going to see Mary perform tonight.‖

―Oh, I forgot you were going to the Mary J. concert tonight. Pam, Is it cold out?‖
―Hell, yeah. It‘s freezing out this bitch.‖
―Okay, so you want me to have Rick pick you up?‖

―Nah, that‘s okay…I‘ll probably be still downtown shopping and I can just walk on over to Junior‘s. Anyway, how was Rick gonna pick me up? Taj is outta town?‖

―Yeah. He‘s in M.I.A. He‘ll probably be back later on tonight.‖

―Alright, girl. Well, let me go. I‘ll see you at one o‘clock then.‖
―Okay, bye.‖
I stood in the center of my closet, scanning around hoping that eventually something would scream at me to wear. After pondering for several minutes, I finally decided on a black Dolce & Gabana shirt and slacks with my grey and black Prada sneakers. Then I went into the fur closet adjacent to the master closet and took my black waist length Chinchilla off of the hanger.
I stared at the mirror. I had to admit…I was one bad bitch. I was often mistaken for Stacey Dash—but the truth was I looked better than her. Admiring my physique, I turned to the side to get a better view of the six pack on my stomach. Although I was a perfect size five. I wasn‘t always satisfied with the flatness of my stomach. Four months ago, I hired a personal trainer, and the results were becoming more noticeable. The pain was finally paying off.

* * *

I climbed inside of my 2003 black on black X5, selected the CD function and suddenly Alicia Keys was singing
Fallin
‘. Immediately I began to think of Taj. He had been gone only two days but I was missing him badly.

Taj and I met two years ago at Capital City, the club he owned, located downtown Brooklyn. Although past experiences had led me to resign myself to flying solo, it was a challenge that I couldn‘t win staying away from him.

Taj was six feet two inches with a chiseled and buffed body. He had smooth dark skin, his long and thick eyelashes accentuated his brown eyes. Taj‘s lips were like Denzel‘s and he had pretty white teeth. It didn‘t take long to learn that he also possessed all the qualities I demanded my man to have— style, street smarts, power and plenty of money.

I reached for my cell phone to call Taj. As soon as I picked up the phone, it began to ring – it was Taj.

―Hey, baby,‖ I said. ―I was
just
getting ready to call you.‖ ―What‘s really good, ma?‖
―Nothing…missing you.‖
―Yeah. I miss you, too. Where you at?‖

―In the car. I‘m heading to Brooklyn. I gotta meet

Black and Pam.‖
―That‘s what‘s up.‖
―When you coming back,
Taj?‖ ―I‘m leaving tonight.‖
―Good. What flight are you gonna catch?‖ ―I think it‘s leaving Miami at 6:15. But if I don‘t make

that one, I think there is another one leaving at 8:30.‖ ―Why you don‘t think you can make the 6:15 flight? I need for you to come back home.‖

―Storm, I gotta make sure dude get on the train and everything go okay…what you mean you
need
me back home.‖
I laughed. ―I meant what I said. I‘m missing you big time, baby. You know I don‘t like being alone too long.‖
―Oh, so Madison ain‘t keeping you
company.‖ ―Taj!‖
―Well, I ain‘t know…I mean you be giving that dog more attention than me sometimes.‖
―Whatever, Taj.‖
―Has Rick been keeping in touch with you?‖
―Yeah. I heard from him yesterday.‖
―A‘ight. Make sure you call him if you need him.‖ ―Okay, I
will. Oh, did you let him know what time you‘re
coming in tonight?‖
―Nah, I‘ll call him though. Don‘t worry about that. I got
that.‖
―All right. Let me go. I‘ll call you later
on.‖ ―Love you.‖
―Love you, too.‖

* * *

When I arrived at Junior‘s, Black, Pam and this chick named Shade was already there.
―Hey, what‘s up y‘all?‖ I asked.

―Hey, what‘s up, Storm?‖ Shade responded.
―What‘s going on girl?‖ Pam asked.
―You don‘t know how to speak nigga?‖ I asked Black. ―My bad,‖ Black apologized. Then he directed his

attention back to his telephone call. ―Yo, listen I‘ ll hit you back later.‖ Black walked over and embraced me. ―What‘s up baby girl? You looking fine as usual.‖

―Thanks, boo,‖ I said. Why y‘all ain‘t get a
table?‖ ―We just got here,‖ Pam proclaimed. I nodded at Shade then turned to Pam ―What she doing