Crazy Summer (3 page)

      “It’s probably too much cut on it,” she snapped sharply.

      She sat up in a better position so she could get a good hit. When she reached for the bag, he handed it to her. Summer cut her eyes at Frank before taking her first sniff, as if she really wanted to steal something. Now he was watching her.

She took two quick snoots up each nostril and then frowned as the coke drained into her throat.

“Uggggh!”

She snapped the covers back from her lower body, stood up, and posed in front of the mirror attached to the dresser. The pubic hairs around her vagina were long, bushy, and ran down toward her inner thighs. Her body was perfectly shaped with curvaceous hips that would be nicknamed
Gun Holsters
.

Frank watched her from the back. She was unique and exotic, and her legs were muscular and bowed out. She was definitely the pick of the litter. Summer loved to dress in tight-fitting clothes because she knew the structure of her body would attract nearly any man she wanted.

In the mirror, she fumbled around with her hair. It was a mess, but that would soon be fixed once she got home. Frank had broken her off with one hundred and fifty dollars, which she called her fucking fee.

She bent over and propped her hands on the dresser top. She spread out like a bloomed flower. Her eyes found his in the mirror.

“You ready to take me home?”

Frank sat up. He couldn’t have had a better view in a triple-X video. He began examining her gorgeous body. She was the type of girl you’d want to take home and make your wife. With those beautiful, innocent eyes, she was just so…

“You heard what I said?” 

This time she turned to face him. He snapped out of his trance and caught hold of himself, allowing a long, deep breath to escape his mouth. The cocaine had him amped up.

He finally swung his legs out of bed and jumped into a pair of boxers and then his jeans. His shoes were a pair of eighty-nine Air Jordan’s. Frank didn’t waste any time fastening on his Run-DMC dookie rope with the Nefertiti pendent. Even though Frank had other important business to handle, he couldn’t help how Summer had him feeling. He couldn’t get rid of her just yet. He reached in his pocket and removed a fifty-dollar bill from a small roll of money.

“Let a nigga get straight one mo’ time ‘fore we leave.” 

Summer played a hard game. It was her way or no way. She shook her head with a smile and began dressing quickly. She slid into a pair of white cut-off shorts and a plain white t-shirt that she tied in a neat knot. She didn’t wear a bra underneath, so her hardened nipples were pressed against the cotton fabric. She smoothed her hair down with her hands and threw on a ball cap. Now she was anxious to get home.

Downstairs in the parking lot of the Masters Motel, Summer strutted to the passenger side of Frank’s 1989 Cherokee. He went to the driver side, his keys dangling in his hand. He inserted one into the lock, when suddenly out of nowhere, a small Mazda rammed the rear of the Cherokee. The rear window shattered, and the SUV was pushed forward a couple of feet before stopping.

Summer snapped her head at the Mazda with the tinted windows. Frank looked at the car, but not for long. He already knew who was behind the wheel.

His wife stepped out of the car with a twisted, angry look across her face. She was cute, but chubby. Her hair was in pink curlers and wrapped in a scarf. She was two months pregnant with Frank’s second child.

With tears streaming down her face, she slammed the car door with both hands and headed straight toward Summer. Although smaller than Frank’s wife, Summer was always prepared for a fight. Without anyone noticing, she removed a sharp box cutter from her front pocket.

Frank eased around the front of his Cherokee, ready to end everything before it started. That’s when he saw Summer’s hand come up and go down in one swift motion. She repeated the process again before he could reach them. Summer had sliced her twice across her face.

“Yeah! You got tha right one, bitch!”

As blood poured from the pregnant woman’s face, Summer backed away. Frank grabbed his wife in an effort to comfort her, while Summer fled the scene.

A beat-up station wagon safety cab pulled up to a three-bedroom red brick house in a subdivision called Barton Village. Local hustlers and drug dealers ran the large neighborhood in South Augusta that was hidden by pine trees. After paying the taxi driver, Summer stepped out the rear of the cab.

Once inside the house, she flipped on the hallway light. She opened the door slightly to the first room on her left and peeped her head inside. She wasn’t surprised to see her mother sitting in her La-Z-Boy doing a crossword puzzle from the
Augusta Chronicle
. She was a big-boned woman in her late forties with smooth, radiant skin. She cut her eyes up toward the door where Summer was standing. Within three seconds, her eyes fell back into the newspaper.

Summer started to say something, but quickly decided against it. Instead, she closed the door and moved down the hall to the next room. Her adrenaline was rushing nearly as hard as it was when she ran away from the motel. She had calmed down a little, but the anxiousness was still in her eyes.

This was her room; she eased inside and closed the door behind her. Across the scattered clothes on the floor, she made her way to the full-size bed where her twin boys lay next to one another in a peaceful sleep. The boys were identical, young and handsome.

Summer kicked off her shoes and sat down on the bed next to them. One stirred, let out a light moan, and flipped his head from one side to the other. The both of them had long, curly hair. They were so adorable to her. She kissed them on the forehead and covered them up.

Thirty minutes later, Summer had showered and taken care of all her personal hygiene. Out in the hallway, she was met by her mother just as she stepped out of the bathroom.

“We need to talk, Summa,” her mother said in a demanding voice.

“I ain’t got––”

“I mean now goddamn it.” Her mother’s voice raised another notch, and her face filled with anger. Her eyes had become red and evil looking. Turning, she walked into her bedroom.

Summer was nearly on the heels of Mrs. Diane’s bedroom slippers. Mrs. Diane sat down in her chair and hiked up her housecoat, while Summer stood a few feet away in front of the dresser mirror. She was drying her hair with a thick towel, but at the same time, peeping at her mother through the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you goin’ back out tonight?”

Summer spun around, her hands on her hips. “If dis is ‘bout my kids, Mama, all you gotta do is let me know,” she snapped, her neck rolling in unison with her words.

Mrs. Diane stood and pointed her finger in Summer’s face, almost touching her nose. “Raise yo’ voice at me again and I’ll slap yo’ ass into da middle of next week.”

After removing her finger from Summer’s face, she hiked up her housecoat again and sat back down.

“Jus’ listen some damn time.” Mrs. Diane’s voice silenced the entire house.

Summer stood silently and patiently, her mind whizzing at a faster pace. She knew her mother from top to bottom.

She caught hold of herself and finally whispered, “I’m listenin’.”

Mrs. Diane took a deep breath. She was short winded from asthma and had high blood pressure, and at that moment, she was praying to GOD it wouldn’t get any worse.

“Yo’ mama is sick, baby.” 

Her words came only as a whisper, but they hit Summer like a punch.

A small silence sat between the two of them. Summer was hesitant to speak, but finally, she allowed her words to leak out.

“If you need me to do somethin’…I can stay.”

Now their emotional feelings were muted. Mrs. Diane stared at her daughter for a second or two, maybe longer. At least it seemed short. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. When her eyes opened, they were filled with tears.

Despite the anger Summer had built up inside of her, she decided to go sit on the arm of the chair where her mother sat. As they held onto one another, Summer wiped the tears from her mother’s eyes with the corner of her towel.

“All I want from you, baby,” Mrs. Diane whispered, “is to raise those kids and raise ‘em good so they can be something.” She paused before continuing. “Lord only knows how much I love ‘em. It’s jus’ too much pressure on me, baby.” 

Summer’s eyes wandered back and forth before she responded, “Well, I’ma straighten up, Mama. I’ma get a job, and soon, I’ma get my own place.”

Mrs. Diane shook her head slowly from side to side. “It ain’t easy in them streets, Summa. You still young, baby, with a lot of life and a great chance to become successful.” 

Summer held her mother’s hands and massaged her fingers, thinking it would calm her down a little. She leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek, then rested her face against hers.

“I’ma make you proud of me, Mama,” Summer whispered.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A loud knock came from the front door like thunder. Startled, Summer’s eyes widened. She knew no one knocked like that but the police. With her heart pounding heavily inside her chest, she jumped up and walked out into the hallway. Inside the living room, she crept easily toward the door, nearly on her toes. The first window she got to, she slightly parted the curtain and looked out into the street. There wasn’t a police car there. She switched sides to get a clear view of the driveway.

Nothing.

The thumping of her heart began to ease. By now, Mrs. Diane was slowly creeping into the living room herself.

“Who is it, baby?”

Summer turned away from the peephole and whispered, “It’s old man Amos from around da corner.”

The loud knock vibrated the door again. Summer jumped nervously, but this time with a smile on her face. Her mother waved her hands while mouthing, “I ain’t home.” 

Amos was the neighborhood drunk and aggravating as hell. He hustled up money by raking yards and cutting grass. Just a few months ago, he’d come by so drunk that he actually peed on himself and went to sleep on their front porch.

By the time Summer began unchaining and unlocking the door, he was already walking off. So, she closed the door back.

Mrs. Diane and Summer then sat down on the plastic-covered furniture in the living room and discussed several issues. A majority of them were serious. After their conversation, Summer went into her room. When she and her mother departed, everything was fine.

Summer crawled into bed with her boys. The one closest to her stirred, and opening his eyes, he starred at her and smiled. While cradling him in her arms, she rocked him back to sleep.

It was nearly ten-fifteen the following morning. Summer was in a wonderful deep sleep, when she felt something crawl across her face. She’d felt a roach in the past, but this was more casual, more playful. She barely parted her eyes before noticing her sons playing in her mouth and ears. She managed a smile and gave them both a kiss. Jermaine and Jeremy then sat down on the blue wall-to-wall carpet and started playing with the toys scattered around them.