Tomorrow
Tomorrow
“Momma, will you drop me and my friends off at the mall on your
way to work?”
“Boy, how you gonna get back home? You know I don’t get off till
eleven o’clock tonight,” Mrs. Brown told her son.
“Mom, I know. But if we have to, we’ll walk back. It’s not like we
never did it before. It’s nothing but four or five miles, and I can run that
far,” Flick said with a smile.
“All right, boy, that’s on y’all, but what you going to the mall
for anyways, to window-shop?” his mom said, laughing to herself.
“No, Mom. We just going to hang out and talk to a few females,
that’s all,” Flick responded back.
“Boy, you ain’t got no game to be talking to no girls,” she says,
playing.
“Momma, if you only knew,” he says, poking his chest out like he’s
the man.
“All right, boy. You better tell ya lil friends to be ready,
’cause I’m leaving an one hour.”
“Okay, Momma, I got you. Let me go call Fatboy and Pokey and tell
them to tighten up.”
“Oh, here you go,” his mom replies, trying to give him twenty
dollars, which he turns down. Being that his mom worked hard to make sure he
had all he needed. He couldn’t see himself taking money from his momma when he
still had close to a hundred dollars in his pockets already that she knew
nothing about but probably could use.
“Nah, Momma, I’m good. I don’t need no money. We just going to
hang out and chill, but thank you anyway,” Flick told his mom. Looking at her
son like he was crazy, all Mrs. Brown could say was, “Okay, baby.”
Now over at Pokey’s crib. His mother was still thirty-eight
degrees hot going off and snapping about the two hundred dollars he gave her.
“Boy, where you get this money from?” Mrs. Rolle asked.
“Mom, I know you think I did something crazy to get this money but
I didn’t. I found it. Maybe it was a gift from God. Who knows?”
“Boy, don’t bring God in your foolishness, you hear me?” Mrs.
Rolle said.
“Yes, ma’am. Mom, look, I really didn’t do nothing. I found the
money and thought you could use it. That’s not a crime, is it?”
As she looked at her son, all she could hope was he was being
honest. ’Cause in her heart she knew she could use the money.
“Mom, I gotta go,” he said, breaking her thoughts. “Mrs. Brown is
dropping us off at the mall today on her way to work.”
“How y’all getting back home?” she asked.
“We’ll probably walk.”
“Here, boy.” She handed him the money back, but when she turned
around and walked into the kitchen, he placed the money on the coffee table.
In his mind all he could say was, “You need the money more than I
do. She must forgot what she used to tell me and my sister, that God blesses a
child that can hold his own!” And with that thought in mind he walked out the
door. Fatboy telephoned boy.
“Who is it, who this is?” asked Tiffany, his oldest sister.
“This Flick.”
“Hold on, boy. It’s ya lil friend Flick.”
“Okay, I’m coming. I got it. Yeah, dog, what’s up?”
“Nothing,” Flick says. “I just called to see if you was ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“The mall, nigga. You forgot?”
“Yeah, dog, I did,” Fats says.
“Hey, I called Pokey and next thing I know I heard him and his mom
fussing so I don’t know if he coming,” Flick said, sounding sad.
“He’ll be there, dog. Now I gotta see what’s up? TP what? Where
Momma at? In her room sleep why? Dang, girl, touch ya nose,” I told my sister,
smiling.
“Well, since you wanna be so smart next time, don’t ask me,”
Tiffany said, full of anger as she walked off toward her room.
“She mad, dog.”
“Who?” Flick asked.
“My sister.”
“Oh,” Flick says.
“Hold on, dog. I’m finna ask my mom can I roll with y’all.”
Knock, knock.
“What?”
“Momma?”
“What, boy?” Mrs. Walls asked, sleepy-eyed.
“Mom, Mrs. Brown gonna drop us off at the mall this morning. Is it
all right if I go?”
“I don’t care as long as you did your chores.”
“I already did that, Momma.”
“Okay, you can go then you need some change. I got ’bout twenty
dollars in my purse.”
“Na’ll, Mom, I’m good. I’ll do without in order to see you with.”
“Boy, get outta my room trying to sweet-talk me,” she says,
smiling. She loved her only son more than her own life and just hoped she was
doing the right thing by giving him his freedom so young in life.
“Okay, Mom, I’m out.”
“Before you leave tell Tia to come here, all right?”
“Tia, Tia!” Fatboy said, screaming.
“Boy, shut up. If I wanted you to wake the whole hood up, I would’ve
yelled myself.”
“Oh, my bad, Momma. I’ll go get here.” On the way to his sister’s
room, Tia was already headed to Mom’s room. As she passes me, she pushes me in
to the wall and takes off running.
“That’s for calling my name like you stupid,” she says, sticking
her middle finger up as she enters Mom’s room. When she enters Mom’s room and
closes the door, I run to my room, grab my shoes and the money outta my shoe
box. Just as I’m putting the money in my pockets, my little sister walks in the
room.
“Ooh, where you get all that money? I’mma tell Mom.”
“Look, girl, here goes five dollars. So don’t tell Momma and I’ll
give you five more later.” But I know I can’t trust my lil sister, even though
she talking ’bout bet. So I push her in the room and take off running. I had
just enough time to escape before my momma is calling my name in the doorway.
“Fatboy, bring your behind here.”
But I’m already gone.
“Lord, please protect my baby and please keep him butta trouble.
Please, Lord, don’t let him be but there doing nothing illegal.” She prayed
while tears fell to the floor in front of her.
“It’s about time you got here, boy,” Mrs. Brown tells Fatboy. “One
more minute and you would’ve got left.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brown, that’s my bad. I had to do my lil chores
before I left.”
“That’s understandable,” Mrs. Brown says, looking in her rearview
mirror, letting Fats know its okay.
“Momma, turn the radio on,” Flick asked.
“Boy, y’all already know if it’s not the oldie goodies, we ain’t
listening to nothing,” all three boys said while laughing. We also knew Mrs.
Brown was dead-ass for real. So nobody bothered asking ’bout the radio the
whole ride to the mall. About fifteen minutes later we pull up in front of the
Paddock Mall, and you knew if the parking lot was on swoll the mall had to be
overflowing with people as we exited the car.
Mrs. Brown says, “Y’all be careful and stay outta trouble,”
looking directly at Pokey.
“Mrs. Brown, thanks for the ride,” Pokey and Fats said.
“Damn, everybody think I’m a thug,” Pokey said, referring to the
look Mrs. Brown gave him.
“Man, you know sometimes my momma be bugging!” Flick says. “Don’t
let it bother you though, all right, man? We here now. What, we gonna stand out
here all day or go in? Let’s ride.” As all three boys enter the mall, it’s
crowded with people. After about an hour of walking around, they all take a
break on a bench.
“Hey look, I bet y’all before we leave the mall I’ll have more
numbers than y’all,” Fatboy said.
“All right, that’s a bet,” his two friends say.
“What we betting though, fat mouth?”
“We’ll bet a light five dollars,” Fat says.
That’s a deal, they say, giving one another dap. After ’bout five
more minutes of clowning around, they get up and head to Foot Locker. Before
they make it there, Fats sees a shortie that done caught his attention.
“Damn, shortie fine as Halle Berry,” Fats says looking in the
Carl’s direction. I might make shortie my baby momma.”
“Yeah, we hear you. And yeah, she bad but you can’t do nothing by
just standing here,” Pokey said, laughing.
“She look young as hell,” Flick says.
“Chill, I got this.” As I stroll over to shortie, she ’bout 5’2”,
135 pounds, light-skinned with long silky hair and a fat round butt, with the
prettiest face I ever seen in my life, I guess it is a thing called love at
first sight.
“Man, forget all the daydreaming. Go holla at shortie, she keep
looking over here anyways,” Pokey says.
“Man, chill, watch this hello. Hey, my name is Fatboy.”
Before he could finish the girl cut him off by saying, “I thought
you were scared or something to come holla at me. I was about to come holla at
you.”
“Word.”
“Anyways, my name is Shakia. But my friends call me Kiki.”
“So that means I can call you Kiki then.”
“Well, really you still a stranger, but since you so cute. Yeah,
you can call me Kiki.”
“Where you from? ’Cause I never seen you round here before,” Fats
asked.
“Oh, I’m from Inverness, Florida. I’m only here to help my grandma
sell these vitamins. My granddad pasted, and now she doing all she can to help
other people.”
“That’s cool. Damn, you stay a lil minute away. Listen, before I
go, ’cause my friends all in my business, can I get ya number?”
“Hold up.” As she looks in her purse and grabs a pen and a piece
of paper, she writes the number down asking, “I’m I gonna call?”
“Yeah, shortie, I’mma hit you up tonight sometime.”
“All right, I’ll be home ’round nine o’clock,” she replies.
“All right, I’mma holla at you tonight then.”
“Okay, bye bye,” she throws in.
Walking back over to my friends all smiles, “I say, niggaz, I
ain’t been in the mall over an hour, and I got the baddest shortie already,”
showing them the number. As I was showing them the number, Pokey taps Flick on
the shoulder.
“Hey, Flick, ain’t that’s the chick you go to school with, the one
you said be throwing everybody shade.”
“Yeah, that’s her,” Flick says.
“Shortie fine, I think she mix of something,” Flick says. “I had
my eye on shortie for a minute now. I heard people calling her Rosa. Rosy or
something like that,” Flick tells his dog.
“Man, go holla at the girl,” Fatboy says.
“Man, y’all so impatient,” Flick says with his trademark grin.
“Man, everybody in school done shot bullets at shortie only to empty they gun,
and shortie still standing, sending niggas on ’bout they business. I ain’t
trying to waste no bullets. So my first shot gonna be aim at her chest,” Flicks
says.
“Dog, we all know kill the brain the body dies,” Pokey said.
“Yeah, catch her heart and she’ll do anything for you,” Flick
shoots back.
As his boys clap talking ’bout go, Romeo, go, “Okay we feeling
that, but just talking ain’t gonna get you nowhere.”
“Dog, here she comes now. Okay, watch a smooth operator in action.
Hey, excuse me. Could I speak with you for just a moment?”
“Well, you done stopped me already, so you might as well,” the
female voiced with attitude.
“Look, Ma. I ain’t trying to stop you from doing you. I just like
what I see, and if I’m wrong for that, then kill me and I know I’ll see you in
heaven,” Flicks shoots back.
“That’s nice, and first my name isn’t Ma, its Rosie. And yours
is?”
“Everybody calls me Flick.”
“I know your alias name, boy. I know you run track and play
basketball too. I’m talking ’bout your real name.”
“Oh, my bad. It’s Javair, and I’mma be honest with you. I’ve seen
you around school too, dissing niggaz left and right.”
“Yeah, it’s only one thing y’all want,” Rosie says. “And I
shouldn’t have to tell you what,” she replies.
“Listen, Rosie, everybody ain’t the same. So don’t let others give
me a blackout without first putting up a fight,” Flick says.
“Okay, you is a little cute and you seem to have yourself
together—“
Before she could finish, Flick cuts her off. “Excuse me, Rosie,
I’mma holla at you later,” Flicks sets and peels off, leaving Rosie standing
there in awe, ’cause never has a dude just left her standing; it’s always vice
versa.
“No, this nigga didn’t. He didn’t even write my number down or ask
for it,” she said, watching him walk off in the other direction.
“Damn, Romeo, what you told that girl that had her drooling out
the mouth?” His two friends asked.
Flick just looks at his two friends and says life is not always a
matter of holding good cards, but sometimes playing a poor hand well.
“All I did was reverse the game!”
“And how you did that?” his friends asked.
“I left her before she could leave me.”
“Okay, we feeling that, but where the number at?”
“Trust me, dog. She’ll find me before she leave.”
“And how can you be so sure?” Pokey asked.
“Just trust me on this one, dog. Oh, by the way, look over there,”
Flick told Pokey, pointing in the direction this girl was standing, looking
thinner than Lisa Raye.
“Oh hell, yeah, that’s the bit. I mean girl I was gonna holla at
before I got locked up. Well, look like luck is with us, ’cause here she comes
walking this,” Pokey remarks.
“Watch a real player handle business,” he said as he started
walking in the same direction the girl was coming from. As she gets close
enough, Pokey bumps her just a little bit, enough to throw her off balance, but
not enough to make her fall. Just the right touch to get her attention.
“Dang, boy, can’t you see where you going?” she replies.
“Oh my bad, but to be honest with you, Miss, I was blinded by your
beauty so really this is all your fault,” Pokey says. “Listen though, my name
is Pokey, and yours is?”
“Oh, my name is Amanda.”
“Well, Amanda, it’s nice to meet you. Maybe we can become friends
or something.”
“We’ll see,” Amanda said, trying not to blush. “Well, look, Pokey,
I gotta go before my mom’s come. She see me talking to you, she gonna have a
fit.”
“Before you bounce, can I get your number?”
“Oh sure, it’s 352-629-0803. Please don’t call me till after
eight. My mom will be at work,” she said, then turning to leave. Before she
took a step further, she said, “Pokey, don’t you go to Vanguard High School?”
“Yeah, I do,” he said.
“Well, I’ll see you at school too then.”
“All right, I’mma get at cha,” Pokey says, heading back toward his
friends with the number in hand, waving it in the air at his dogs.
“Dog, you did that,” his two friends say, giving him dap.
“Well, I got me a number,” Pokey says.
“Shot, I got one too,” Fats responds.
“So, Flick, since you the lone lost ranger without a number, you
owe us 2.50 apiece. Give me my money,” they both say, laughing.
“Y’all got that,” Flick said, reaching in his pocket to pay his
friends. The Carl’s Rosie runs up to him with a piece of paper in her hand.
Placing it in his hands, she whispered in his ear, “Make sure you call me, and
I’ll see you at school,” she says, placing a kiss on his cheek, and she turns
to walk the other way.
“Well well well, Mr. Lover Man, it seems you got the bigger
prize,” Pokey said. You got a last-minute phone number and a little kiss,”
Pokey said.
“I guess that makes us all even, right?”
“Yeah, we good even though I got a kiss with my number,” Flick
says.
“Look y’all, let’s go hit the Foot Locker right quick before the
mall close,” Pokey said, taking off. “Man, I’m about to cope these Nike Airs,”
Pokey said. “They straight as hell, and they ain’t nothing but seventy-five
dollars,” Pokey said, placing the shoes in front of him. While Pokey was
talking to Fats, Flick was looking at some shoes and walks up with a pair of
Puma track shoes.
“I’mma get these,” Flick says, showing us the shoes.
“Fats, what you gonna cope?”
“Man, I’m good on shoes right now. All right, let us go pay for
these shoes then we gonna slide up outta here. The mall about to close in an
hour or so, and we got some walking to do before we get back to the projects,”
Pokey says. As they exited the mall all smiles, feeling good about the number
they all caught and the brand-new shoes, all three friends have the same
thought in mind, “Damn, I can’t wait to get home to see what shortie really
about.” About an hour or so later they make it back to the projects, and all go
separate ways to their own building, ready to put the calls in.
