Another Man's Treasure (Joey Bada$$ Story)

Part Tre

 Latara sat on my lap at Edwin’s desk, toying with the pens in our holder. I didn’t usually sit here unless to look at something he was working on when he wanted me to; being a waitress didn’t require a computer most of the time. But today, I had homework to do.

I was searching up Capital Steez.

If I wanted to solve this mystery, I had to know a bit of his background. While reading articles about him and the rest of Pro Era and watching interviews he’d done, one of his albums ‘AmeriKKKan Korruption’ was playing in the background. Hip-hop wasn’t necessarily my kind of music, but I liked the way he rapped. He was skilled. Genuine, too. I couldn’t tell why he would kill himself, and on Christmas Eve at that. Wasn’t he surrounded by people who loved him?

Then again, I couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Latara bobbed her head to the music every now and then. “Do you like this music, Tara?” I asked her. She made her traditional gurgling sound and nodded. Something in her eyes today was strange. Sure, she was the same bubbly baby as every other day, but I was beginning to notice something about her. Her eyes? Her cheeks? They used to remind me inevitably of Edwin’s, but now they didn’t. Maybe because he was gone.

I wanted him back.

“Tara, come with me, baby,” I said, picking her up from the chair. She giggled a little bit. Nothing was funny; at least not to me. She’d already bathed and eaten for the morning, so all it took was five minutes for me to get her into one of the cute baby-outfits I’d picked out from the mall while I was pregnant, and then we were off.

One thing I wasn’t used to, even after ten months, was people staring into the stroller whenever I took Latara outside. Everyone does it when they see a cute baby - they stare. Some smile. I used to do it, until I realized how annoying the attention could be for the mother. The baby obviously doesn’t mind. (Although she did somehow mind getting too much attention from her own parents. Strange.)

Abigail didn’t live too far from me, only about ten blocks. She lived in the middle of the city’s excitement, where the Tibetan boutiques and pizza stores (including the one that sells pizza bigger than your own face) were located. Usually it was peaceful around there in the day time, but as soon as rush hour came, everything changed. Tourists and local party freaks showed their true colors.

But on the bright side, there’s a Starbucks.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jamie; open up.” I shouted into Abigail’s intercom. The buzzer went off and she opened the door, her hair up in curls and paper towel intertwined between each of her toes to allow her toenail polish to dry. Typical Friday morning.

“Hello, co-worker. What brings you by with your little bundle of joy?” She asked, walking back to her sofa and leaving the front door for me to close. I pushed it closed and help Latara out of her stroller.

“I need help.” I sighed. Latara waddled over to the big, soft chair next to Abigail’s sofa. She only had the chair for when her father came over. He liked having a chair for himself.

“How badly?” She asked.

“Bad enough that I’d come to your house.”

Abby made a face. “I see. Tell me about it.”

“Well,” I slipped off my shoes and kicked them under her coffee table, “I dropped my pride and tried calling Edwin like you suggested. It didn’t work. I called him all day yesterday and all night, but he didn’t answer. I left a thousand messages and sent two thousand texts. I don’t know what to do.”