Big Booty

38

"Yo, why da fuck you ain't been answerin' ya shit?"

Instead of goin' off on this niggah-bitch, I decide to keep it light 'n friendly. "Look, boo. This shit ain't workin'."

"What? What da fuck is you talkin' about?"

"I'm talkin' about you, me . . . it ain't workin' for me. Ya black ass ain't stickin' to the program."

"Yo, fuck outta here. You already know what it is. We gotta deal. You fuck me, and I keep breakin' you off. I lace ya ass wit' mad paper so you 'posed to have ya ass on call for me."

"Coon-niggah, boom! I ain't no motherfuckin' call girl. I told you I don't answer to you, or no other . . . " My cell beeps. I glance at the screen. I have another call comin' in. It's Day'Asia. I keep on talkin'. " . . . keep tellin' ya black ass that I don't answer to you."

"Yo, fuck outta here. I own you, bitch. Do you understand that?"

I laugh. "Boo-boo, I know you crazy and all, but niggah, yo' ass is certifiable. If ya wife wants to put up with that shit, then that's on her. But I ain't the one. The deal was, that we fuck and you go on about ya merry business. Don't catch no feelin's. Don't get wrapped up in ya lil' happy home and you stay the fuck outta mine. Not you tryna motherfuckin' control me, niggah. Not you thinkin' you own me."

"Yo, Cass, real shit. You gonna have me fuck you up, aiight. I'm warnin' ya ass. Don't fuckin' try me, yo."

"Niggah-coon, boom!"

I disconnect, then scroll through my phone. I press the CALL button. "Hey," the caller says.

"Sugah-boo, this niggah-bitch is really gettin' outta hand. He called here talkin' real crazy. Talkin' 'bout he owns me. The niggah comin' with too much goddamn drama for me. And you know I don't drama."

"I know. I told you this was crazy. I'm tellin' you, you have no idea what kinda niggah he is. He's ruthless. They all are."

"Oh I know exactly what kinda niggah that bitch is. And I'ma fuckin' pull his cord real goddamn soon. And I'ma let his wife know what kinda snake-niggah she's married to."

"Trust me. She already knows."

"Then she'll hear it again. Don't no motherfuckin' niggah threaten me. I'm done with his ass."

"Maybe we should just let it go."

"Oh no! We gonna ride this shit out. I'ma hood bitch, and the two things we don't do is, run from shit or let it go. No, no, no. We sit and we wait, then when a bitch least expects it, we strike. I started this. And I'ma finish it. So, buckle up, goddammit! We gonna put 'em all outta they misery."

Nothin' else is said. Another call rings through as I'm endin' the call. It's Da'Quan. I smile. "Niggah, why I ain't heard from ya ass in over a month? And you ain't even been home once since you've been back to school. Who you fuckin' on campus, niggah?"

He laughs. "Ma, chill wit' all that. I ain't messin' wit' no one."

"Lies, niggah, lies! I know you slingin' dick somewhere."

"I'm still a virgin," he says, crackin' up. "I ain't thinkin' 'bout these broads, Ma. I'm good."

I frown. "You ain't suckin' no dingaling, is you? I mean . . . if you are, I'ma still love you 'cause you my child, but I'ma fuck you up."

He keeps laughin'. "Ma, chill. I don't swing like that. I'm chillin'. I got friends, but ain't nuthin' serious. You told me you wanted me to stay focused and that's what I'm doin'. I ain't tryna get caught up in no drama. I'm tryna graduate, feel me?"

I smile. "Oooh, that's my boo. I'm so proud of you, Da'Quan. Did you get the package I sent you?" He tells me that's one of the reasons he's callin'. He thanks me. Tells me he loves me and wants me to come down to his school and spend the weekend. I don't do regret or guilt, but I do feel bad that I ain't been down to his school except one time when he first got accepted. "Boo, you know I don't do the south like that. But I'ma drive down for the day. Maybe fry up some chicken, whip up some mac 'n cheese and a big pot of greens—oh, and a peach cobbler—for you while I'm there." If I ain't learn nothin' else from Beulah I learned how'ta throw down in the kitchen.

"Daaayum, you got my stomach growlin' now. I just wanna see you, Ma. You sure you aiight? I had a bad dream that sumthin' happened to you."

"Real shit, Cass. Don't have me fuck you up . . . I own you, bitch . . ."

I shake the niggah's voice from my head. I ain't even about to tell him about JT's nutty ass. Da'Quan's always been so protective of me, more so than Darius and Jah'Mel. And he's the one who I know would put a bullet in a niggah's face if they tried to hurt me. Oooh, I miss his ass. I don't know why he ain't go to Rutgers or Kean University instead of goin' way down to D.C.

"I miss you, too, boo. And, yes, I'm fine. You ain't gotta worry about me. You know ya brothers all got my back."

"I know, Ma. But you gotta be careful out there, okay? Promise me, aiight? I don't want nuthin' happenin' to you. You all I got."

I blink. What in the world is goin' on? Da'Quan ain't never talk like this. "Da'Quan, is everything, okay? You worryin' me, boo." He tells me everything's good with him. That he's worried about me. I try 'n reassure him that I'm okay. That the niggahs in the streets look out for me. But he ain't tryna hear it. He wants me to come to D.C. to see him, or send him money so he can come home. I don't want him comin' home unless it's for the holidays, only. I don't want him gettin' mixed up in no shit while he's here. All them lil' niggahs he used to run with in high school are in jail or dead. And I ain't tryna lose him.

" 'Quan, boo. I'll bring ya brothers to come see you in a few weeks, okay?"

"Aiight, cool. And what about Asia? I wanna see her, too."

I swallow. "Boo, Day'Asia ain't a part of this family anymore."

"Whaat?! What are you talkin' about, Ma?" I give him the rundown. Let him know how nasty 'n grown the lil bitch's been. "Ma, that ain't cool. You dead wrong for puttin' her out on the streets like that. She was def outta pocket for not beatin' that chick down, but you outta pocket too. What Darius say?"

"Nig . . . " I catch myself from bringin' it to him. "Da'Quan, you know I ain't ever tolerate no disrespect from you boys so I ain't gonna have it with her."

"I know, Ma. But she's a girl. Anything can happen to her."

"Well, that's too damn bad. She shoulda thought about that before she turned on me. She stood there and let that ho put her hands on me and didn't do shit 'til I tried to beat the lil' bitch's face off. Then she gonna try 'n pull me off'a her. Oh, no, Day'Asia fucked up, boo."

He sighs, heavily in my ear. "Ma, I don't like it. Fuck her up if you gotta. But you gotta let her come home."

I roll my eyes. "She's fine right where she's at, 'Quan. She's with Dickalina."

"Miss Lina? She ain't fine there. She's prolly over in the projects doin' God knows what. You know Miss Lina ain't watchin' her. She can barely handle Candy and Tina. You gotta get her home, Ma."

Oooh, I'm tryna keep it sweet 'n classy, but Da'Quan is tryna do me. And I'ma go off in five, four, three, two . . . one. I take a deep breath. Bite down on my bottom lip to keep from givin' it to him. "Da'Quan, please. Don't do me. We gettin' along and I ain't tryna get messy with you 'cause you know that's not how I like to do it. Day'Asia made her bed. And now she gotta learn how to sleep in it. And if the streets eat her up alive, oh well . . . she'll have no one to blame but herself. I love Day'Asia, but that bitch tried to do me. And I ain't havin' no bitch turn on me, livin' up on me."

He sucks his teeth. "Ma, I gotta go. I'ma hit you one day next week. Give me Asia's number. I'ma talk to her." I rattle off the number to him. "Aiight, Ma. I'ma holla. Please let her come home."

"I'll think about it," I tell him. But I ain't thinkin' about shit. My mind's made up. We say our good-byes, then disconnect.