Crackhead (18 page)

For the most part, she was still cute. Shit, she looked better than most females in the hood did on their best day. But seeing her again only confirmed the rumors. However, that spark he felt the day he met her at Crystal's house was still there.

“So, seriously, Laci,” Dink said with sincerity, “what have you really been up to?”

“Do I look like a book to you?” Laci asked calmly.

“Huh?” Dink asked, obviously confused.

“Do I look like a book to you?” Laci changed her profile a couple of times for him to examine.

“No,” he snickered.

Laci became serious. “Then stop trying to read me, baby. I'm good.”

Dink just smiled.

There was so much Dink wanted to say, but he couldn't seem to focus. He had so much on his plate that his feelings for Laci
seemed secondary. He started to put it off for another time, but if he didn't say what he wanted to, he might never do it.

“Laci,” he said looking into her eyes, “I hope I don't make a fool of myself by saying this, but fuck it.”

“What? Just say it.”

“Ever since the time when I saw you at Crystal's house, I wondered what it would be like to have . . .” Dink started laughing. “Oh, this is some crazy shit. What the fuck am I doing, yo?”

Dink paused and melted when Laci smiled. Then he manned up. “I'm feeling you, girl, and I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have you as my own.”

“Your own what?” Laci asked, dumbfounded.

Dink jerked his head back and gave her a puzzled look.

“I'm just kidding,” Laci said, smiling again. “I know what you mean.” Laci hadn't smiled so much since she could remember. No one had ever made her smile like that before. But she'd snuck in that little joke because she really didn't know how to respond to Dink. His statement had thrown her off. She knew Dink looked at her in a more-than-friendly way, but she thought it was just a physical attraction. She could have easily gotten into him if he hadn't been Crystal's man. She wanted to tell him that, but she played it cool. She, too, had so much going on in her life.

“You probably say that to all the girls, Dink,” she said, continuing to play around. “By the way, how's ya girl?”

“I haven't really been seeing a whole lot of Crystal,” Dink said, hating that Laci spoiled the moment by mentioning her name. “She's probably got her hands full anyway.”

“Yeah, well, I don't see too much of her either. I just haven't been in the mood to hang out with the girls these days. What's your excuse?”

“I'm not in the mood for her either.” Dink took a deep breath and stretched. “I'm thinking about moving on.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. People grow apart, ya know?” Dink paused for a second. “Listen, I know that you and Crystal are friends or whatever, but I don't believe in wasted opportunities, so enough of talking about her. I'm trying to see about
you
, ma.”

“So what they say about you is right, huh?” Laci said in somewhat of a sensual tone. “You do run a good game.” Laci looked down and started picking at her fingernails. “All guys like you do is scam on women. I know your kind,” she said, sucking her teeth.

Dink was fully animated as he explained himself. “Look at me,” he said lifting Laci's face by the chin and turning it toward him so that they were eye to eye. “I put this on everything. You're like this perfect chick out of a movie or some shit. And I'm . . .” Dink searched for the right words. “I'm a hustler, baby. I ain't go to college or nothin' like that, and unlike yourself, I don't plan on going. I know you come from money, went to private schools and all that. I can't compete with that. But as far as the money part, I'm good. We wouldn't have to worry about finances.”

“All of your money is dirty, Dink,” Laci said in a serious tone, still looking him in the eye. “And you and I both know what happens to dirty money.” Laci paused to let him think on it. “It gets washed away. I mean, for real though. You can't buy a house with it. You can't even walk into a bank and get an account, so you can't even save it. Hell, you can't do shit with your kind of money but burn it on the streets.”

“That's where you're wrong,” Dink said.

“How so?”

Dink licked his lips and leaned in close to Laci. “Don't you
worry your pretty head about that. I got that all figured out,” he said before sitting back in position. “We won't even have to worry about that.”

“What's this
we
stuff?” Laci asked.

“Because ain't no ‘I' in team, Laci. You and me—us. We could be a team.”

Laci looked at Dink sideways, shook her head, then looked out the window. “Ain't no
I
in team, huh?”

“That's what I said.”

Laci turned back to Dink. “Ain't no
we
either.” She let out a chuckle.

“You keep playing all you want, girl, but I'm for real.”

“Dink, you have a girlfriend, so the fact that you are sitting here saying all of this, with me knowing you have a girlfriend, lets me know what type of man you really are. No offense, but if you're doing this type of stuff to Crystal, why should I believe that you ain't gonna do it to me?”

“Because I'm being real with you from the jump,” Dink said.

“But I'm not the one you need to be real with right now—Crystal is,” Laci said. “If you kept shit so real, then she would know how you supposedly feel about me.”

Dink sighed. “It ain't no
supposed
feeling. I'm putting my shit on the line telling you this. And you know it must be real, considering—” Dink caught himself. He almost slipped up and said something that might have hurt Laci's feelings. He truly didn't want to take it there. Besides, he wasn't one to go on rumor alone. He hadn't heard the shit from Laci, so a part of him still wanted to believe in something other than the obvious. Dink understood that people sometimes went through rough times, and this could be one of those times for Laci. He would love to be there for her, to see her through—if she'd let him.

“Fuck it. I see I'm wasting my breath and have probably just made a complete fool out of myself,” he said.

“Then that's a good thing,” Laci replied softly. “Means you got love in your heart.”

“What?” Dink said.

“They say a person only makes a fool out of themselves for love,” Laci said.

“Or for money,” Dink said, looking deeply into her eyes.

Laci turned away and stared out of the window. She felt as though Dink had her numbers and was just waiting for her to yell Bingo!

“I really dig the way you came at me and all, Dink. But the you and me, and the ‘we' thing . . . it ain't a reality. I could never be with you, Dink.”

“Why? Why not, Laci?”

Laci fought back tears. “Isn't it obvious, Dink? You deal drugs and I . . .” she paused. “I'm friends with your girlfriend.” Laci's thoughts began to race. She wanted so badly to spill the beans to Dink. She needed help, but she bitched up. She just couldn't.

“Laci, first of all, I told you that I'm cutting Crystal off. She's not what I'm looking for and if I'm going to have a woman in my life, it's gonna be the one I really want. And as far as the drug shit goes, I think I already know what time it is with you, Laci.”

Laci looked at Dink in shock. She turned away in humiliation as tears flowed down her cheeks. “Guess I do look like a book after all,” Laci sobbed.

Dink put his hand on her shoulder. He felt so sick inside that she was confirming that shit—just absolutely sick. He gritted his teeth hard to maintain his emotions. He wasn't tripping over Laci, but he had seen the best of them go down and he refused to watch the same thing happen to her.

“Did you think I wouldn't find out, Laci, doing what I do?” Dink said. “I just can't figure out why and how you got into this.”

Laci bowed her head in shame. In all her running and having fun, she'd never even considered how many people would find out, simply from word on the street. Dink was one of the biggest narcotics distributors in the Bronx. Laci tried to do her thing outside of her borough, but news always traveled from hood to hood.

Laci could feel Dink's eyes burning a hole through her as he waited on a response.

“Dink, don't look at me, please,” Laci cried.

“It's cool, ma,” Dink said, running his hand over her hair.

“No, don't touch me.” Laci jerked away. “You don't wanna touch me, trust me,” she said, starting to feel sorry for herself. “It's not my fault,” she sobbed.

Dink bit down on his lip and tried to maintain his composure, but what he really wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her. He never wanted to let her go. He wanted to keep her from slipping even deeper. “What do you mean it's not your fault, Laci? You gotta step up to bat before you can even think about changing the situation.”

“No, you don't understand. It's really not my fault,” Laci said emotionally.

“Somebody forced it on you or something? Talk to me,” Dink insisted.

Laci scratched at her ponytail. “Not exactly,” she sighed. “You just don't understand. I don't want to smoke, but shit just got so crazy. I tried to back away from it, but the shit just kept calling me back. I don't know what to do,” Laci cried. “I don't know what to do, Dink. Oh, my God.”

Laci felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
She had finally been able to just sit down and tell somebody. There was so much more she wanted to tell Dink, though, like how the mere thought of getting high made her squirm. She thought about the rocks she had on her at that very moment and how much better she would feel if she smoked them. Talking to Dink had made her forget about them at first, but that was only short-term. The stones were now humming in a low tone, but they would soon be singing soprano.

Dink took Laci's hand into his. Even after hearing it from the horse's mouth, that Laci Johnson was a crack addict, he still couldn't resist her. He simply saw her as a diamond in the rough. She just needed someone to shine her up a little bit. Dink had been in the game long enough to understand the addiction to crack. But with crack being a mental drug, each person had his or her own catalyst for getting hooked. He needed to understand Laci's before he could help her. He needed to know the driving force behind it. He'd heard the saying about not being able to turn a ho into a housewife. But here it was, 1989, and no one had yet come to any conclusions about crackheads.

Dink exhaled. “Tell me all about your addiction, Laci. What made you want to use crack for the very first time?”

Laci was compelled to shed all of her bad skin in front of Dink. She began to air all her dirty laundry with little hesitation. Laci recounted all of the summer's events for Dink. She told him about the laced weed and a host of other shit he wasn't aware of. On one hand, he felt like crying with her. But on the other hand, he felt like killing everyone involved.

“Sons of bitches!” Dink roared as he beat down on his dashboard. “I could kill them dead, all of 'em.”

“I've felt like that, too,” Laci said, not realizing that she had lifted her hand to run her fingers through his hair. “All I can do is
pray that God takes care of them for what they did. That's all you can do, too.” Laci forced herself to smile.

Dink looked at her closely, and now he could see the hurt behind the smile. Now she wasn't fooling anybody.

He closed his eyes for a moment as Laci continued stroking his hair. Then he opened his eyes and held her head in his hands before placing it on his shoulder. She felt so much better talking to someone. She'd just never thought in a million years that it would be Dink, especially the way she had played him off the last time he tried to look out for her. He had every right to condemn her and push her away, but he had been very understanding.

Laci and Dink exchanged long glances. He took his fingers and wiped her tears away. He then kissed her softly on the lips and brushed her hair with his hand.

In a short time, Laci and Dink connected like they had never done with any other person in their lives. In just a matter of a few hours, they really did become a team.

LACI HELD ONTO
Dink, it seemed, for dear life. She basked in the attention he gave her, and her body language revealed that all of her defenses were down. She wanted more, but she reluctantly showed restraint for the moment.

“I feel so much better,” Laci said to Dink as she straightened out her clothes. “You're the first person I've been able to talk to about this. I used to talk to my mom about everything. She was like my best friend—pillow fights and all. But this . . . this would have killed her.”

Dink nodded in agreement.

“Seems like now you know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you,” Laci said. “Tell me about your family.”

Dink became tense. “I don't have no family.”

“Really? No mother? No father?”

“Nah. From what I was told when I was little, my mother was an addict and gave me to a pimp named Bruce Ward in exchange for drugs. I grew up crazy, and the only saving grace I had, even though it was short-lived, was my cousin, Fred. Fred was Bruce's bottom bitch's son, and we instantly formed a bond like brothers. But he was an insecure dude, and deep down he hated me.”

“Why did he hate you?”

“I don't even know, man,” Dink said, shaking his head. “I guess he had a lot of reasons for hating me.”

“That's sad, Dink. How did you deal with it?”

Dink smiled confidently. “By becoming somebody. No matter what, I wouldn't be broken. No matter what anybody did, they couldn't make me fall.”

“You're a strong man. I guess that's why I feel so safe with you.”