Misty (37 page)

“Sure, if they don't mind sleeping in the living room. I only have one bedroom.”

“That's cool,” he responded and then scowled at his friend. “Yo, Brick. You want me to drive, man?” Shane shouted.

“Naw, I'm straight, man. I got this.” Brick's words came out slurred.

“He ain't got shit,” Misty interjected. “Pull over, Brick; let Shane drive.”

Jumping the curb when he pulled over, Brick hit the brakes. “Damn, that was fucked up,” he said, cussing as if the car was at fault.

Shane took the driver's seat. Misty got in the back with Star while Brick slid drunkenly into the passenger seat.

“You dance real good.” Misty sidled next to Star. “I wish I could dance like that.”

“It ain't even about dancing; it's working your body like you getting some good dick. Anybody can do it.”

“Yeah, but I'd be so scared to take off my clothes like that.” Misty made her voice sound small, like the voice of a little girl.

“Girl, as pretty and young as you are…” Star paused and shook her head as if Misty had no idea of the untapped goldmine she possessed. “Girl, you wouldn't even have to work up a sweat. The only thing you'd have to do is come up on stage, swivel your little hips, and rub your crotch. If you showed those perverts just a little bit of tits, they'd break their necks to stuff your thong with cash.”

“For real!”

Star nodded with a smile.

“But is it worth it? You know…do you make enough to really get up there and take off your clothes?”

“If you get some lap dances in to supplement what you get on stage, you can make out pretty good. Like tonight. Here it is a Monday night. Most people don't think of Monday as a money night. But I made out pretty good.”

Misty's dark, round eyes grew large; her heavy silky lashes fluttered with interest. “So you're saying this is a career I could think about getting into and I could make enough green to survive?”

“Survive! Girl, stop playin'. I made three hundred in lap dances and a buck twenty on stage. On a Monday night! That ought to tell you that you can make some real nice change.”

“Do you think you could get me in there?” Misty asked, her voice filled with hope.

“Um. I can put in a good word, but you're still gonna have to audition for the manager. I'll give Shane my number; give me a call tomorrow and I'll try to set something up.”

“Oh, that's so nice. Thank you,” Misty gushed.

Star was tall and slender. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties. She wore a curly ponytail and had a nice-looking face. Her body wasn't spectacular but she worked it so well, the men forgot that they'd been initially disappointed when she turned around and revealed an ass so flat it looked like someone had beaten it with a board.

“Right there,” Star said, pointing. “Pull up behind that white van.”

Misty and Star walked together like two best girlfriends while Shane held up Brick, who was so drunk he could hardly stand up.

Star waved to her leather sofa, indicating that Brick could lie down there. “Oh, hell no,” Misty said. “I'm sleeping on the couch; let his drunk ass sleep on the floor.” Everyone laughed at Brick's expense.

Shane tried to ease the big man down to the floor, but unable to hold the dead weight any longer, Shane dropped his friend. Brick's body hit the floor with a great thump. Brick lay sprawled, but didn't awaken, which caused more titters of laugher.

“I'm sorry I don't have an extra blanket, but I have plenty of clean sheets,” Star said, her faced fixed in an apologetic expression.

“That'll work. Girl, I'm so tired I'm gonna pass out in about five minutes,” Misty informed Star as she pulled off her sneakers and make herself comfortable on the leather sofa.

She threw a sneaker at Brick when he began to snore. They all erupted into more laughter when, after getting clunked in the head with Misty's sneaker, Brick's snoring grew even louder.

Shane and the willowy exotic dancer went into her bedroom and in a matter of minutes, Shane had Star hitting high notes, chanting, praying, and begging for more. Her cries of passion continued until the sun lit up the bedroom. Satisfied, Star fell asleep in Shane's arms, wearing a contented smile that looked as if it were permanently in place.

Shane woke her up around nine in the morning, “Baby, I gotta go. Can I get your number? You know I want to see you again.” He was holding a cell phone.

“Why you gotta leave?” she asked, lifting her head slightly.

“I'll be back tonight if I can borrow my man's car.”

“Okay.” Star gave Shane her number, reciting each number slowly and deliberately. Shane pressed the numbers, each button making a different musical sound. “All right, baby. I got you on lock.”

Shane kissed her and hugged her tight. Contentedly, Star turned over and snuggled into her pillow. “Damn, I hate to leave you,” he said, patting her flat buttocks. “You better have that ass ready for me tonight.”

She smiled dreamily and went back to sleep.

In the car, Misty counted the money that Shane had lifted from Star's purse.

“That bitch can lie,” Misty accused and sucked her teeth. “This is only three hundred and fifty dollars; she said she made four twenty.”

“It's cool, though,” Brick said, grinning. “I gripped her jewelry box.” Brick displayed a blue wooden musical box.

“Now, that's what I'm talkin' about. You go, boy!” Misty squealed with glee. She sat in the backseat, but stretched her arm across the front seat to investigate the pieces inside the jewelry box.

“Yo, stop grabbing everything,” Shane said, giving Misty an evil look.

“Y'all dumb asses don't know fake stuff from real, so hand me the muthafuckin' jewelry box,” Misty replied, snatching the jewelry box from Brick.

“And your violent ass better not hit me with your stinkin' sneaker no more,” Brick said, laughing. “Won't even let a black man get his snore on.”

They all let out big guffaws. “Damn, you was convincin' like a
muthafucker when you be playin' your drunk role,” Misty complimented him.

“That's how niggas get robbed. They be thinkin' I'm twisted, but I be all up in they shit, taking everything,” Brick bragged.

More laughter followed and then Misty took out a sparkly tennis bracelet and solemnly handed it to Shane.

“Aw shit. This jawn is worth some money. That bling is about three or four carats, right, Misty?”

“Look at it real good, Shane. You know that dancin' bitch can't afford no real bling. Chips maybe, but not three or four carats.”

Shane held it in his palm as if weighing the bracelet. “It's heavy; it's blinging like crazy. It looks real to me.”

“Turn it over.”

Shane turned it over and shrugged.

“That shit is set in silver.” Misty sucked her teeth in disgust. “Real diamonds are not set in no damn silver. Fucking fake-ass bitch!”

“Well maybe we can sell it to some knucklehead who don't know no better. How much you think we can get?” Brick asked.

“I don't know. Let's see what else is in here.” Misty rifled through the seemingly worthless pieces of jewelry. She held up a pair of diamond earrings. “These look real?” she asked, contemptuously.

“Damn, I don't know. Just hand me the fuckin' jewelry box,” Shane suggested.

Misty sucked her teeth and shoved the box toward Shane. He looked through it and then, shaking his head in disgust, he gave the jewelry box back to Misty.

“So what did you get, Miss Know It All?” Brick asked.

“Man, I clipped that bitch in the backseat of the car last night.” Misty proudly held up a wallet and extracted two credit cards. “Now let's go spend some money before that lap dancin' ho wakes up and starts canceling these credit cards. Yeah, she's gonna be
madder than a muthafucker when she finds out how much Shane's dick cost her.”

Headed for the Gallery Mall, Brick sped out of Germantown, Misty threw the jewelry box out the window.

“Whatchu do that for?” Brick asked, astonished.

“There wasn't nothing but a bunch of worthless costume jewelry in there. The box was wooden; that should have told you something.”

“She ain't have no gold chains or nothing in there?” Brick asked, obviously disappointed.

“She ain't have nothin' but a bunch of bullshit in there. But don't worry, baby. We gon' see how much she got on these cards. I hope she got enough for a shopping spree for all of us.”

Twenty minutes later, Shane and Brick hung out in the food court while Misty tested one of the cards at a woman's boutique. She met up with them swinging two bags.

“Look at this greedy bitch, she done bought up the whole store.” Brick's gruff voice carried, causing diners to turn their heads toward Misty.

“Okay, genius. Go ahead and bring a lot of attention to us.” Misty sat down and took a bite of Brick's sandwich.

“So how much is on the cards?” Shane inquired.

Misty shrugged. “No way to tell unless I have her PIN number. But here's how we can work it. Y'all can't use a female's credit card, so go look around and see what you like. Go in separate stores. Then come tell me and I'll go make the purchases.”

Shane nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” Brick agreed, bobbing his head up and down as he gobbled down his food.

The two men got up to do some window shopping. Misty stuck
out her hand. “Split the cash, Shane. I know you don't think you're keeping that hooker's money all to yourself.”

“I did the work, didn't I?”

“Oh, that's how we're playin' now? Okay, I didn't know the rules. But I'll remember the next time y'all want me to lure some nut to a hotel or some dark alley somewhere. Uh huh. I'm sure gonna remember this shit.” There was no mistaking the threat behind Misty's words.

Slowly, Shane pulled out the knot and gave Misty and Brick one hundred dollars apiece. “Y'all know I was just playin'.” He laughed sheepishly.

“I don't know. You can be real shiesty when you wanna be.” Misty gave him a smile and hopped up from her seat. With her two bags hanging from the crook of her arm, she went to investigate the myriad of choices in the mall's food court.

During the drive back to West Philly, the trio was exhausted. “Y'all feel like stopping for a minute so we can hollah at Wayne Gee?” Shane asked. Wayne Gee was a friend as well as their weed connection.

“We'll have to hollah at the Gee man later,” Misty said, shaking her head. “I'm too tired to stop anywhere.”

There wasn't much conversation until they got close to the house where Shane had been staying off and on.

The red pickup truck parked in the middle of the block indicated that Paula, Shane's latest benefactor, wouldn't be able to admit him into the premises. Unfortunately, her husband was home.

Misty sucked her teeth. “What's that muthafucker doin' home?” She sighed deeply. “Oh well, I guess you'll have to come to our place. My mom's at work. You can get some sleep until she gets off and then call that bitch Paula and see what's up with her husband.
Ain't he supposed to be on the road driving an eighteen-wheeler?” Misty questioned Shane.

“That's what I thought. Fuck it. I'll call her later.”

Shane, Misty, and Brick piled their packages in Misty's bedroom. Her mother didn't like Brick staying there, and she'd made it abundantly clear that putting a roof over the heads of two male slackers was absolutely out of the question.

Misty locked her bedroom door. “Can't have my nosey mother all up in our business.”

The three friends, too exhausted to undress, fell asleep in Misty's queen-sized bed.

•  •  •

“Misty!” her mother yelled as she banged on her daughter's bedroom door.

“What?” Misty sat up, cracked open an eye, and looked at the clock. The red digital numbers announced that it was 8:30 and the darkened bedroom was evidence that the day had turned to evening. “Damn,” Misty said, shocked that they'd slept so long.

“I know you and that Brick ain't still laying up in that bed 'sleep. Get the hell up, Misty. Brick, you, too. Both of y'all get out that bed right the hell now.”

“Okay, Mom. But damn, you ain't gotta be all loud and bangin' on my door.”

“Who pays the bills around here?”

Misty sighed and rolled her eyes. “All right, Mom. We're getting up now.”

“I'm getting ready to go get a drink around the corner at the bar. When I get back, I want y'all up, dressed, and out!”

Brick slept through the bickering and continued to sleep.

Shane woke up instantly, stretched his sinewy body, and cut his
eye at the clock. He sat up and massaged his head. “Who got the weed?” Shane sat on the edge of the bed. “Damn, my whole body hurts; cramped up in this bed with you and Brick ain't no joke.”

“Me? How much room did I take up?”

“I know you tiny and all, but you sleep wild and crazy. You be moving all over the place. And that big ox,” he said, pointing to Brick. “My arm is numb; feels like him and all his ten tons was laying on my shit all night.” Shane grimaced as he rubbed his arm. “I need some weed.”

“We didn't stop and get none, 'member?” Misty reminded him. “We'll have to hollah at Wayne Gee later on.”

“Damn, I don't like waking up with no weed,” Shane grumbled as he worked his hands upward and began to massage the top of his head.

Shane took out his cell phone and called Paula. When she picked up, he said, “Is your old man still at the crib? No? Well next time the plans change, hit me up on my cell; give me some kind of warning. That shit was fucked up. Yeah, aiight. I'll be over soon.” He paused. “Oh, now you trying to rush me? I'll get there when I get there. Damn.”