Too Far Gone (Urban)

57| Answers: The Solution

10 Years Ago...

“Nique, can you sweep the floors for me, please?” His aunt, Shawnee, asked as she pressed a woman's hair with a hot comb. Niqo nodded and rose from the salon chair he claimed as his own. He grabbed the broom from the supply closet and headed out to her spot. Detaching the dustpan from the broom, he crouched slightly and swept the fallen strands of hair into it.

     His aunt Shawnee was kind enough to give him a job sweeping up after her and her employees. She paid decent for his services and still bought him lunch during his breaks. His mom wasn't too fond of him working there, but recently, he stopped caring about how she felt as much. She was acting strange. Besides, the girls from his school went here; he's been getting a lot of cat for this lately.

     Once Niqo was finished sweeping up, he sauntered over to the trash bin and dumped the hair into it. He clipped the plastic dustpan back onto the handle of the broom and carried it to the supply closet. He leaned it against the wall, and just as he was about to make leave, the broom slid down the wall and fell, knocking over a bottle during its fall. The bottle hit the floor with a hollow smack, but when Niqo picked it up, he felt a cool, slippery solution come in contact with his fingers. Furrowing his brows, he flicked in the light, seeing conditioner had splattered everywhere.

     “Shit…” He mumbled, placing the bottle back onto the shelf it fell from. He first picked up the broom and leaned it back against the wall at an angle it couldn't possibly fall again. Then, he took one of the wet rags that were hung to dry and began wiping up the spill. It had gotten on other boxes and bottles, so he was extra meticulous in cleaning up good, hoping to prevent another accident. Upon moving a box to wipe away the conditioner that managed to slip underneath, he discovered a black duffel bag hidden behind it.

     Curiosity took over and he removed the other boxes concealing it. “What's this doing here?” He muttered to himself, pulling out the bag. It must've been used recently, for the bag didn't have a lick of dust on it. From the outside, he could feel something that was both hard, yet flexible to the touch. He was beginning to highly doubt it was a bag full of soap boxes.

     Niqo listened out for anyone that could be coming his way before he unzipped the bag. Stacks upon stacks of hundred dollar bills — more money than he's ever seen in his life — were contained in it. His finger traces along the band of one of the stacks, and for a moment, he was tempted to take one. However, he knew he'd be in for something big if he did.

     “Niqo?” He heard his mother call out as she headed towards the closet.

     “Shit!” He panicked, trying to close the bag. He knew he was in here for too long. The zipper caught on the inner fabric of the bag, earning another curse from Niqo. He fought with the zipper, trying to pull back against it to no avail.

     His mother stepped into the closet, her mouth dropping open as if a mouse scurried across the tiled floor. “Niqo,” she gasped, “What are you doing?”

     Niqo struggled with the zipper once more before he gave up. “The zipper got stuck, ma. I-I’m just trying to close it.”

     “Why was it open then?”

Silence.

     His ma sighed, kneeling down. She pulled the bag to her and fidgeted with the zipper. Groaning, she said, “Don't you have practice or something?”

     “I guess I do,” Niqo replied. That was her new way of telling him to leave. He didn't have practice until next week since they were currently on spring break. Niqo sighed, not saying a word to her as he made his exit. His aunt was well aware of how his mother had been acting towards him lately, and she wasn't too fond with it.