*
“How long is LaDonna gonna be here?” Jasmine asked LaTanza as she put in the TLC disc. Ain’t Too Proud To Beg began playing.
LaTanza shrugged her shoulders as if to say I don’t know as she continued to read the Right On magazine while lying on her twin bed next to her best friend. She liked it when her big sister LaDonna who was ten years her senior came by. LaDonna would give her money so she could buy a few things since she knew her father never did. She knew how it was growing up in the Dixon residence, a lot of rules and not much bending of them. LaDonna hated that and knew that she always had it easier than her sister. LaTanza knew it also. Their father, Jack was LaDonna’s biological father and LaTanza’s stepfather but no one knew the latter. The family kept it a secret but was reminded of it whenever Jack came home drunk or just wanted to start some shit so he’d have a reason to get out of the house to chase the whores in the streets.
Ever since LaTanza could remember, he reminded everyone under the roof of the bungalow on Ashton Street that Mrs. Dixon had gotten pregnant while he was serving six months in Cook County jail for his third DUI. So every time Jack saw LaTanza he saw the man who had slept with his wife. Jack always regretted not leaving his wife when he found out about her cheating ways. It would have been better for him to have taken the embarrassment back then than to cause a lifetime of pain to a woman and her two young girls even though LaDonna didn’t have it half as bad as LaTanza.
Jack opened LaTanza’s door without knocking. In a pissed off tone he stated, “Have your little friend go home so we can eat dinner before your sister has to go. She’ll be leaving in a couple of hours.”
Without giving LaTanza a chance to say a word he slammed her door shut and was gone as fast as he’d come.
Jasmine rolled her neck and eyes in her best teenage girl way, “Damn, your dad don’t know how to knock? You got it bad up in here.”
“I know. Sometimes I just want to pack my shit and leave. I swear if I had a place I could go and some cash to last me until I found a job I’d be outta here in a heartbeat. It’s been really messed up since my mom died.”
Jasmine rolled over on her back as she flipped through a magazine. “Whatever. You’re only seventeen and haven’t even graduated. Oops, my bad your baby will take care of you,” Jasmine cooed jokingly.
“I would manage. Beside, I’ll be eighteen next month,” LaTanza smiled as she thought about Carlos.
The twenty-one year old whom she had meet a year ago while walking to the corner store to get some cigarettes for Jack. The young Cuban was parked talking to a couple of guys in the neighborhood when she and Jasmine walked past. She had noticed his gaze but kept on walking and talking. That’s when Carlos called out. “Hey, shorty.”
LaTanza kept her pace.
“Aw, you gonna dis me?” Carlos asked. He wasn’t used to anyone he spoke to ignoring him. He told the two young hustlers on the corner that he’d get with them later. He rose from his Pathfinder that was shining from its wash and wax and jogged to catch up with the two girls. His gold chain bounced on the wife beater that hugged his torso. He was wearing a white FuBu warm up and the jacket was unzipped.
When he caught up with the girls he asked where they were going and Jasmine quickly answered, “To the corner store.”
“I can give y’all a ride.”
The two of them could smell the hint of his Cool Water cologne and noticed how clean he was from the white warm up to the pair of white Air Max’s that didn’t have a speck of dirt on them. They knew that he had to have a lot of girlfriends because they had just read in an article in the Black Woman magazine that women often looked at a man’s shoes to determine his status. Clean, meant a brotha had his shit together from hygiene to neatness. Dirty and worn meant broke and lazy.
They stopped their
“How long is LaDonna gonna be here?” Jasmine asked LaTanza as she put in the TLC disc. Ain’t Too Proud To Beg began playing.
LaTanza shrugged her shoulders as if to say I don’t know as she continued to read the Right On magazine while lying on her twin bed next to her best friend. She liked it when her big sister LaDonna who was ten years her senior came by. LaDonna would give her money so she could buy a few things since she knew her father never did. She knew how it was growing up in the Dixon residence, a lot of rules and not much bending of them. LaDonna hated that and knew that she always had it easier than her sister. LaTanza knew it also. Their father, Jack was LaDonna’s biological father and LaTanza’s stepfather but no one knew the latter. The family kept it a secret but was reminded of it whenever Jack came home drunk or just wanted to start some shit so he’d have a reason to get out of the house to chase the whores in the streets.
Ever since LaTanza could remember, he reminded everyone under the roof of the bungalow on Ashton Street that Mrs. Dixon had gotten pregnant while he was serving six months in Cook County jail for his third DUI. So every time Jack saw LaTanza he saw the man who had slept with his wife. Jack always regretted not leaving his wife when he found out about her cheating ways. It would have been better for him to have taken the embarrassment back then than to cause a lifetime of pain to a woman and her two young girls even though LaDonna didn’t have it half as bad as LaTanza.
Jack opened LaTanza’s door without knocking. In a pissed off tone he stated, “Have your little friend go home so we can eat dinner before your sister has to go. She’ll be leaving in a couple of hours.”
Without giving LaTanza a chance to say a word he slammed her door shut and was gone as fast as he’d come.
Jasmine rolled her neck and eyes in her best teenage girl way, “Damn, your dad don’t know how to knock? You got it bad up in here.”
“I know. Sometimes I just want to pack my shit and leave. I swear if I had a place I could go and some cash to last me until I found a job I’d be outta here in a heartbeat. It’s been really messed up since my mom died.”
Jasmine rolled over on her back as she flipped through a magazine. “Whatever. You’re only seventeen and haven’t even graduated. Oops, my bad your baby will take care of you,” Jasmine cooed jokingly.
“I would manage. Beside, I’ll be eighteen next month,” LaTanza smiled as she thought about Carlos.
The twenty-one year old whom she had meet a year ago while walking to the corner store to get some cigarettes for Jack. The young Cuban was parked talking to a couple of guys in the neighborhood when she and Jasmine walked past. She had noticed his gaze but kept on walking and talking. That’s when Carlos called out. “Hey, shorty.”
LaTanza kept her pace.
“Aw, you gonna dis me?” Carlos asked. He wasn’t used to anyone he spoke to ignoring him. He told the two young hustlers on the corner that he’d get with them later. He rose from his Pathfinder that was shining from its wash and wax and jogged to catch up with the two girls. His gold chain bounced on the wife beater that hugged his torso. He was wearing a white FuBu warm up and the jacket was unzipped.
When he caught up with the girls he asked where they were going and Jasmine quickly answered, “To the corner store.”
“I can give y’all a ride.”
The two of them could smell the hint of his Cool Water cologne and noticed how clean he was from the white warm up to the pair of white Air Max’s that didn’t have a speck of dirt on them. They knew that he had to have a lot of girlfriends because they had just read in an article in the Black Woman magazine that women often looked at a man’s shoes to determine his status. Clean, meant a brotha had his shit together from hygiene to neatness. Dirty and worn meant broke and lazy.
They stopped their
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