A Dollar And Dream. Carl Weber

After he hit it from the back, we took a shower and he got dressed.

      “You still gonna give me the money?” I asked sheepishly.

      “Yeah, gonna go get it right now.”

      “When you come back, are you gonna stay?” I asked as I walked him to the door.

      “Nah, Boo. I got some stuff I need to take care of in the morning and I need to be on my side of town,” he said as he kissed me. “Look, I’ll be right back.”

      Although I had never actually been to his place, I knew Charlie lived clean across town. He rarely, if ever, spent the night, but I did always offer as a courtesy.

      Beep, beep, beep! Something was beeping and I didn’t know what the hell it was until I followed the sound and found Charlie’s cell phone lying on the sofa. I reached to get it. What the fuck? Why would he care? That nigga wanted to marry me. I wondered who the hell was calling him this late at night.

      “Hello?” It sounded like a question more than a greeting.

      “Who is this? And where is Charlie?” an angry female shouted into my ear.

      “Who the fuck is this?” It was my turn to be angry now.

      “I’m his wife, bitch. Put his ass on the phone!”

      “Look, ain’t no Charlie here!” I screamed back at her.

      “This is his cell phone, ain’t it? I know his ass has been creepin’, and obviously it’s with you! Who is this, anyway?”

      “Like I said, ain’t no Charlie here!” I said, and hung up the phone. Instantly it began to ring again. I picked it up and turned it off.

      Married! I couldn’t believe this shit! I’d been fucking this nigga for over six months and he had a wife. Well, this shit was about to stop right now. And besides, I didn’t do married men. My father cheated on my mother and it caused hell to break loose in our family. I vowed then that I would never have an affair, or be a part of an affair.

      I sat on the sofa, steaming as I waited for Charlie’s married ass to get back. I was gonna cuss him out from here all the way home to his rude-ass wife. I heard a car pull up and made sure it was him. I gave him time to knock and open the door.

      “Man, can you believe there was a long-ass line at the Quick-Mart at this time of night? Everybody trying to buy a lottery ticket. I bought us a couple, baby.” He put the tickets on the coffee table.

      I didn’t answer him. I just stared and looked down at his hands. There was no ring.

      “Where is it?” I asked him.

      “Damn, it’s in my pocket.”

      “Not the money, you bastard. Your ring! Your fucking wedding ring!”

      “Wh-wha wedding ring?” He began to stutter. “What’s wrong, baby? What are you talking about?”

      I handed him his phone. “Your wife called while you were gone. You fucking bastard, you’re married. You were married the whole fucking time we’ve been together. And I thought you wanted to marry me.” I was screaming as memories of my mother’s pain came flooding back to me. “How you gon’ disrespect me like that? How you gon’ disrespect her like that? You are a trifling bastard, just like all the rest of them. Get the fuck out of my house!”

      “Wait, Kerri. Let me explain.” He reached for me, but I backed away before he could touch me.

      “Get the fuck outta my house before I call the cops. Now!” The threat of me calling the cops must’ve worked, because the next thing I knew, he hauled ass and the door closed behind him. Shit, all that and I still didn’t get the damn money! Just a couple of damn lottery tickets.

      4

      Rodney

      “Goddamn it! Where the fuck is it? It’s gotta be around here somewhere! I just had that shit!” I screamed, grabbing my head with both hands and pulling on the little bit of hair I had in frustration. I pulled both the cushions off my couch and threw them out of the way, desperately searching the seams of the couch and love seat for the brown envelope I’d lost. I found nothing but some loose change.

      I was in trouble, big trouble, fifteen thousand dollars’ worth of trouble, and the only person I had to blame was myself. If I had taken my ass over to Big Red’s and dropped off the money like I was supposed to, instead of shooting craps down in the basement with that nigga Jordan, I’d be all right now. But Jordan was such a loser I couldn’t resist the opportunity to take his money. Now I had eight hundred dollars of his money, but I was missing fifteen grand of Big Red’s money. A position I did not wanna be in, because that shit could get me killed.

      There was a knock on the door and I almost peed on myself. Could that be Big Red wondering where I was with his money? Or worse, his enforcer Bubba, the brother with no neck? God, should I open the door or should I pretend like I wasn’t home? Shit, it didn’t matter. If he wanted to kill me, he was gonna find me no matter what. Besides, where the fuck was I going with only eight hundred dollars in my pocket? I decided to answer the door. If it was Big Red, maybe I could reason with him.

      “Who is it?” I yelled from where I was standing.

      “It’s Katrice.”

      I let out a long and thankful sigh as I walked to the door. “Hold on a sec, Trice. I’ll be right there.”

      I didn’t want her to see how trashed my apartment was, so I opened the door and stepped out in the hallway.

      “Hey, Katrice, what’s up?” I glanced over at the front door nervously as we talked, praying Red and Bubba wouldn’t bust in the building while I was talking to my landlord.

      “Look, I know you still have ’til Sunday, but I was hoping you could pay your rent a few days early so I could pay the mortgage before the first?”

      “Oh shit. Didn’t Jordan tell you?”

      “Tell me what?”

      “I’m paid up for the next two months.”

      “What? No, you’re not,” Katrice snapped. But something in her eyes said she already knew the rest of what I was about to tell her.

      “Yes, I am. And I got the receipts to prove it.” I went in my pocket and handed her the rent receipts Jordan had given me after I’d whipped his ass in craps. Even after that fool lost his entire paycheck to me, he still wanted to play double or nothing for my rent money.

      “That motherfucker,” she cursed. It looked like she was trying to hold back tears. “You beat his ass gambling, didn’t you?”

      “Yeah, he ain’t got no luck with dice.”

      “Tell me something, Rodney. How much cash did you take from him?”

      “’Bout eight hundred.”

      She lost all expression in her face as she shook her head, mumbling, “His whole fucking paycheck. Goddamn it!”

      “Hey, Katrice. You a good-looking woman. Why you fuck with that nigga anyway?”

      “’Cause I love him, Rodney. Because I love him.” And on that note, she headed for the stairs, probably to talk to that fine-ass Kerri.

      I watched Katrice walk up the steps, then almost shit on myself when the front door to the building flew open and Big Red walked in. He was followed by the human gorilla Bubba.

      Red, a short brother who looked more like a pimp than the city’s biggest drug dealer, always wore red. Today was no exception. He was wearing a red jogging suit, red sneakers, and a red baseball hat. Oh, and all his jewelry had red ruby stones.

      “Where’s my money, Rodney?” Red demanded coolly as he approached. “You was supposed to drop off my money six hours ago.”

      “I know, Red. But the funniest