Crackhead (11 page)

Tried to wake you. Went to the club.

—SBB

Laci sucked her teeth. She really wished that she had been awake, because she was looking forward to partying with the girls for once. A night of dancing and laughing was what she needed to wear her strong-ass buzz off.

Oh well, at least they thought enough of me to leave some more of that chronic
, she thought.

Laci put the note down, then picked up the joint. She stared at it for a minute before she started fishing around for a book of matches. She couldn't find any, so she went into the kitchen and turned on the stove. She lit the joint and looked at it.

“Practice makes perfect,” she said before taking a hit.

The smoke didn't hit her as hard as the first time. She still gagged, but she was able to hold it in her lungs. The rush from the smoke went directly to Laci's brain, almost making her dizzy. She inhaled the stench from the blunt and realized that this one smelled even less kosher. She could smell the weed, but there was something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Laci finished the blunt and tried to figure out what to do next. For some odd reason, she couldn't seem to sit still. She felt alive and wanted to do everything at once. It was as if all the sleep had drained from her body and she had a second wind.

Now, had Laci smoked weed before, certain things would have tipped her off as being not quite right. Weed was a depressant, but Laci felt hyper. Marijuana also had a knack for giving folks the munchies, which Laci didn't have. Actually, she didn't have an appetite at all. The signs would be clear for someone who knew what to look for, but Laci didn't, so she didn't heed the warning going off in the back of her mind.

Laci circled Crystal's apartment three or four times, trying to burn off some of her excessive energy. This went on for a little bit before she started to feel herself coming down off the high.
The girls didn't appear to be coming back anytime soon, so she was on her own for the rest of the night. She put Crystal's door on slam lock and headed into the streets.

“DID YOU SEE
that bitch tweekin'?” Shaunna asked, as she sipped her spiked cranberry juice. They had managed to find an old dude outside the store to buy them some alcohol. They decided to head down to the basketball court, where they could scope out the fellas playing a night game of pickup.

“G-i-r-r-r-l, I thought I was gonna fall out when her jaw locked,” Monique laughed, taking a seat on the park bench. “That bitch was s-o-o-o gone. Crystal, did you peep when she started steaming that shit?”

“Huh?” Crystal asked, not really paying attention.

“Earth to Crystal,” Monique said, trying to snap her out of her daze. “Damn, you been on some quiet shit since we left the crib. I know you ain't still tripping on how Dink was up on Laci?”

“You peeped that too, huh?” Crystal took a swig of her Pepsi mixed with vodka.

“Who didn't?” Monique said with a snicker.

“Nah, I ain't stunting that bitch,” Crystal lied. The truth was, unbeknownst to the girls, she felt terrible about what they had done to Laci. Crystal had an aunt that fell victim to the pipe. She watched her aunt go from a hardworking mother of four to a basehead, sucking dick for her next high.

“Fuck the dumb shit,” Monique said. “That lil' bitch deserves a reality check. I'll bet her Mommy would've had a fit had she known her little girl was up in the crib smoking a woo.”

Tonette, who hadn't said too much either, decided to jump into the conversation. “Oh, my precious Laci,” she said with a horrible British accent. “A crackhead? Well, I never!”

“She's probably gonna feel like shit when she wakes up,” Crystal said.

“You don't know the half,” Tonette said. “That second one we left her . . . double the lace.”

“Girl, you crazy!” Monique shouted hysterically. “You see this crazy bitch, Crystal?”

“What the fuck were you trying to do, kill her?” Shaunna said, shaking her head.

“If she's still buzzing like she was when we left her, she probably wishes she were dead. Ain't that right, Crystal?” Monique laughed.

“Yeah,” Crystal chuckled halfheartedly.

Tonette peeped Crystal acting strangely. She knew about her aunt and could see how she probably felt funny, but fuck it. It was too late now. It was a cold world, and fucked-up shit happened every day. “That bitch caught the vapors,” laughed Tonette. Monique and Shaunna cracked up. Crystal was still in her own world.

The girls couldn't wait to see Laci so they could find out firsthand what the drugs had done to her. They laughed every time they thought about Laci trying to speak through locked jaws. Finally, Crystal joined in on the snaps. “She sounded like Mush-mouth. See how much she talk about her momma and college and shit now. Maybe this is just what Miss Goody-Goody needed to keep that trap closed.” Crystal took a puff of her cigarette and laughed—partially because she was amazed at what she'd pulled off and also because she couldn't believe how low she'd stooped.

Though the plan was something Crystal and Tonette had pretty much made happen, all the girls went along with it. But Tonette was their leader. Once she was down, it was a go. Whenever she gave shit the okay, the others just fell in line behind her.
What the crew didn't know was that Tonette harbored a secret—a dark, ugly secret. Everyone just assumed that she didn't like Laci for the same reasons they didn't much care for her, but that wasn't the case.

Tonette actually admired Laci. That was why she pulled her into the crew in the first place. Laci was polite and very pleasant to be around. She was the young lady that none of her dusty friends could ever even fathom becoming. It was this same admiration for Laci that often made Tonette despise her.

Laci came from a nice home and had loving parents. Tonette had been running the streets since she could remember. No one ever gave a shit about her, especially not her drunken-ass mother. Ever since her father had left, all her mother cared about was the bottle and getting a shot of dick here and there. Tonette took to the streets and had a reputation for being one of the toughest female pushers in the South Bronx. Her mother didn't care, as long as she got a check for her twice a month. Unable to find love at home, Tonette found it in the money she was making and finally with Dame, the hustler who'd taken her under his wing and into his home.

Sometimes just looking at Laci or watching her interact with her mother made Tonette want to break down in tears. There were times when she would close her eyes and imagine that Margaret was her mother. She would fantasize about them staying up till all hours of the night having girly talks. Then when she opened her eyes, reality would set in. “Fuck that bitch,” Tonette said, downing the rest of her drink.

LACI COULDN'T GET
off the train soon enough. The ride from the Bronx to Harlem was a less-than-pleasant one. When she left Crystal's house she was fine, but after being on the train for a few
minutes she began to feel sick. Her stomach began to cramp and she became light-headed.

When the train reached 145th Street, she was all too happy to get off. The musty, graffiti-tagged train had done nothing to alleviate her nausea. She jogged up the stairs and was greeted by the brisk night air, music, cars honking their horns, and folks carrying on like it was a nonstop party. Slowly, Laci's head began to clear and she realized that she was starving. She had been at Crystal's all day and hadn't eaten since breakfast. She should have eaten that fried bologna sandwich when she had the chance.

Laci took a detour toward Broadway to grab a bite from the diner. She crossed Amsterdam Avenue and was halfway to Broadway when she had a brilliant idea.
I bet my food would taste better if I smoked another joint.
She made a left and headed back toward St. Nicholas, where she remembered Tonette taking her to a corner store that sold weed in the back. Unsure about which one of the four corner stores at the intersection was the weed spot, Laci slowly walked up to the one with the most dope rides and smooth-looking cats in front.
I know I look stupid. I just hope they don't notice me
, she thought as she tried to figure out how she was going to slip past the circle of guys and into the store.

“Yo, son, you trying to tell me that LL Cool J is better than Rakim? You trippin',” said the guy wearing a green Fila sweat suit. A huge radio was blasting Eric B. & Rakim's “My Melody.” The guys, all local hustlers, met up every Saturday night to discuss business, joke, and show off their new cars, clothes, and hoes.

“Damn right, LL is the man. He straight slayed Kool Moe Dee. He's a monster.” The other guys stood and watched this heated debate.

“Man, you buggin'. Word is bond, you need to get yo' head
checked and shape up that fucked-up Gumby while you at it.” The whole circle erupted in laughter. Laci took this as her only in. As they cracked up, bent over in tears, she sneaked behind them and into the store like a superhero, but with no agenda. She couldn't just walk up to the counter and ask for a nickel bag. Trying to decide what to do, she paced the floor looking for something to purchase. To her surprise, the racks of chips were half empty and what was there was covered with dust. Disgusted with the selection, she walked over to the fridge for a soda. There was hardly anything in the coolers.

I must be in the right store
, Laci thought. Figuring she had no other choice, she walked back up to the counter to look in the ice-cream freezer. Nothing was there except some Italian ices, a bag or two of ice, and dead frozen roaches.
Oh my goodness. What am I supposed to do?
With nothing more to lose, Laci contemplated her options: leave the store with nothing and let her high crash or take a chance and ask to buy some weed.
This is what Tonette meant. I need to get courage and stop being a punk.
“Excuse me, sir.” The words barely escaped Laci's mouth.

“Laci?” a guy's voice called from the back of the store. Terrified, Laci pretended not to hear him. “Yo, your name is Laci, right?” The guy walked right up behind her and gave the man behind the counter a pound. Laci dared not turn around. He placed his hand on her shoulder and put his face close to hers.

“Dink?” Laci looked out the corner of her eye. “Hi . . . hi, umm . . .”

“Yeah, what you doing down here?”

“Oh, I was in the neighborhood and got thirsty.”

Dink didn't believe a word she was saying, but being sort of a nice guy, he thought he'd look out for her. “Laci, this isn't the store you want to be in,” he whispered. “Where's Crystal and them?”

“I don't know—they left me and went to the club.”

“Really?”
Just my luck
, he thought. “Look, we need to get you out of here. Let me drop you home.”

“No, that's fine. I was about to go get something to eat.”

“Good, I'm kind of hungry. Let's go, my treat.”

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get out this. Of course, Dink had a reason to be there. He was handling business in the back. His play cousin, who was a big man in Harlem, had called him down for a meeting. Dink was just coming up the back stairs when he saw a beautiful and familiar face at the counter. He didn't realize it was Laci until he heard her speak; she sounded sweet and innocent, just what had attracted him to her a couple of hours ago. Crazy-ass Crystal was nowhere to be found and since they were miles away from his turf, Dink couldn't help but seize what seemed like a perfect opportunity.

With his hand placed on the small of her back, Dink walked Laci out of the store. When they stepped out front, the group of guys were still jabbering. Suddenly, a car sped up, stopped, and fired four shots into the crowd. Instantly, Dink hovered over Laci, protecting her, and they took off running.

“Come on, my car is up the block!” Dink yelled.

“What . . . what the hell just happened?” Laci was scared to death. If he hadn't pulled her away, she'd probably be standing in the same spot.

“Bring yo' ass, Laci, before you get us shot.” The gunmen had successfully hit their target and drove off. The only person left in front of the store was an eighteen-year-old dealer, whose body was riddled with bullets. It was just another Saturday night on the Ave.

Out of breath, they reached Dink's car and got in. Making
sure that Laci wasn't going to go into shock or, worse, throw up all over his tan butter-soft leather interior, Dink started the car and sat there for a few minutes. Laci's mind was all over the place. How had she gone from being a sheltered princess to smoking weed, attempting to buy drugs, and witnessing a murder, all in one day? Her appetite was gone; so was her high. Thinking clearly now, Laci looked at her watch, which read 11:41.

“I have to get home. I have to get home, now.” Reality was starting to sink in and tears were beginning to swell up in her eyes.

“Shhh, baby, it's going to be alright. This shit happens all the time. It's a jungle out here, honey, and you shouldn't be here. Let me take you home.”

“No,” Laci cried.

“Yes. Where do you live?” Dink put the car into drive and pulled out.

“No! I don't want you to take me home.”

“Well darling, how are you going to get home then? It's too late for a pretty girl like you to be riding the trains.”

“I'll take a cab.”

“Fine, let me pay for it.” Dink put his hand on her lap.

“I don't need your money!” Laci pulled her leg away. She didn't know what disturbed her more—the shooting, or Crystal's boyfriend getting fresh with her.

Seeing that there was no reasoning with her, Dink got serious. “Okay, I know you don't know me, but trust me, I'm a good guy. I'm just trying to look out for you. What the fuck you were doing down here, I don't know, but I'm not leaving you here. Word to mother.”