Curves

Chapter 3

Zyshonne

I shook my head at the texts. I knew better than to expect her to actually go out tonight. She's always locked up inside her damn house like some hermit or something. I was hoping her response would have been because she doesn't feel comfortable going out without Toni, Kyra and Keisha. Instead she's locked herself in for the whole weekend trying to do everyone's work. She claims she's just 'helping out' but I know the deal. She's a people pleaser who has a hard time saying no.

Her co-workers know this and often come up with all types of excuses to get her to do their work so they can enjoy their lives. I'm not stupid and I've seen it multiple times. Her co-workers used to come in here all the time talking about how they didn't feel like doing the work and was planning on dumping the load on her. Of course at the time I didn't know who they were or who they were talking about until I delivered her some food some day and saw the same people. I've tried telling her to stand up for herself and don't let them treat her that way but she doesn't listen.

"Aye, ain't no time to be texting. Come help with these boxes."

"My bad Unc," I said putting my phone away.

"These are our best clients so be diligent." I nodded and went to work.

I worked for my uncle in his shipping business. He's owned the place for about fifty years now. Soon he'll be retiring and my cousin will be taking over. Shipping isn't my cup of tea. I honestly hate the job simply because I know it's not what I want to do. But not many jobs would hire an ex-con and this job pays a decent wager. Not to mention my responsibilities tend to mess with my schedule and this job is convenient enough to let me get by with a few things. 

My past really had me fucked up for a long time. I was a bad little fucker. Got into some business I didn't need to be in and ended up spending my last three years of high school locked up. The only people I had was Unc, my cousin, and Monique who never failed at writing me everyday and visiting whenever she could have. That girl had really been there for me when I needed her and I'm forever grateful for that. After I was released I connected with my old girlfriend and we dated for a while. I know now I should've just left that alone.

It's been seven years since my release and I'm still struggling trying to get my life back on track. I've had a lot of set backs that would've probably caused the average person to quit but I refused to quit. I've always wanted to own my own restaurant. Many people don't see me as a chef. I look more like a thug to most but cooking is a passion of mine. It's something I've always loved to do. My passion for it came from a fucked up place but all in all it's something I wouldn't give up. 

I came from a really broken home. My dad was a raging drunk who lost more jobs than I could keep track of. It eventually got to the point he couldn't even get a job. That added fuel to an already blazing fire. My mom had to work three jobs to support us and his drinking habit. With him smacking her around didn't help either. My mom was always tired and begged him to find work and get sober. Which he eventually did. I don't remember the details since I was so young but from what my Uncle tells it my old man got hurt on the job and was cut a decent check. Which he ran away with leaving my mother behind with three kids, me being the youngest at the time. I just have a blur of memories of my mom dating, drinking, and picking up a substance abuse habit all the while entertaining the wrong kind of men. By the time I turned ten I had three younger siblings all with different fathers. 

With my mother as deep in the hole as she was we were struggling bad. Became homeless on countless occasions, sleeping in motels, cars, in the streets, under bridges. The few times we had a place to stay or I made enough money I bought little things of food to carry us over. I began experimenting with food and ended up really liking my fancy struggle meals. Having a nice home-cooked meal every once in a while made me forget my problems, even for just a little while. Eventually CPS got wind of what's been going on and took us away. All my other siblings were adopted into a family I think while I stayed in the system, bouncing from home to home until my Uncle was finally reached. I had lived with him since I was twelve and am really thankful I had my uncle all this time.