Big Booty Page 10

  “Aiight, aiight, damn. I’m only fuckin’ with you,” he says, diggin’ in his pocket and pullin’ out a handful of bills. He hands them to me. “Here, this is all I got on me until next week.”

  I count out what he’s given me, then count it again. All ones! “What the fuck is this shit?”

  He frowns. “What the fuck it look like? It’s money.”

  “No, niggah. It’s bullshit. And it looks like you tryna play me. That’s what it looks like to me.”

  He huffs, shakin’ his head. “See. This shit right here is why ya ungrateful ass can’t keep a man.”

  “Niggah, what the fuck you think thirty-seven motherfuckin’ dollars is gonna do for your sons? Not a goddamn thing!”

  He frowns. “Then give the shit back. That’s the problem with you stupid bitches, you ain’t ever satisfied.”

  I slap him. “Get the fuck off my property.”

  His jaw clenches. “See. Here you go with ya hands, again. You always buggin’; for real, Cass. And then you wonder why I left ya crazy ass.”

  I put a hand up on my hip. “Oh, puhleeze. Be clear. You left me because I let you leave. I was done with your triflin’ ass after the first three weeks. But, it’s mighty funny Mister ‘That’s Why I Left You’ that your black ass keeps comin’ back for me.” I throw the money in his face. “Take your ass back home to that fat, bald-headed, flat-ass bitch you fuckin’.”

  “Bitch, suck my dick with that dumb shit.”

  “Oh, motherfucka, I see you wanna get it poppin’ out here, huh? I’ma show you how I’ll suck your dick, niggah.” Before he knows what hits him, I whip out my can of mace and do him real dirty.

  “Aaaaah, fuck! Shit! What the fuck!” He coughs and gags, droppin’ down to his knees.

  “You bring your black ass over here for some pussy,” I say, kickin’ him. “But don’t have my motherfuckin’ money”—I kick him again, then slap him—“then got the nerve to think you can talk all slick to me. Motherfucka, I’ve been good to you. You asked me to stop givin’ that fat bitch of yours a hard time, and I did. But now I’ma take it to her goddamn face for her not knowin’ how to keep a leash on your black ass.”

  I spray him again. Then crack him upside the head with the empty can. Got his ass down on the ground crawlin’ and howlin’ like a wounded hyena for someone to come get me off of his ass. I don’t know why these niggahs gotta take me there. I swear, a bitch can’t go out and have a few drinks in peace without some motherfucka tryna serve it to me.

  “And I’ma stomp ya ugly-ass sister’s face, too, the next time I see the bitch.” I run over and grab a stick layin’ in the yard and start beatin’ him across his back and head with it.

  “Aaaah, shit! Someone come get this crazy bitch the fuck off of me! Yo, help! Aaaah, fuck! Shit!”

  My front door swings open. Day’Asia, Joshua, Elijah, Isaiah, and one of the twins, Tyquan, come runnin’ out of the house with baseball bats and kitchen knives ready to set it off. When they see that I have the situation under control, they stand and watch me stomp on him. Well, everyone except Tyquan. When he realizes it’s his no-good daddy, he starts goin’ off.

  “Mommy, stop fuckin’ my daddy up! Get off him! I know he ain’t do shit to you! All he was probably tryna do is come see me and Fuquan. You always gotta mess shit up!”

  I stop hitting Vernon with the stick long enough to yell at him. “Boy, get your grown ass in the house, talkin’ shit to me, before I beat your ass next. Day’Asia, take his fresh ass back on in the house before I have to go to jail tonight.” She yanks him by the arm and drags him back into the house with him talkin’ shit all the way. I see Fuquan, looking out of the livin’ room window with his arms folded. He knows like I do that his daddy needs to be fucked up.

  “Did that niggah put his hands on you?” Joshua, my fourteen-year old, wants to know, walkin’ up on me with a knife in his hand.

  “No, his ass ain’t that crazy.” I throw the stick down, pick up my things, then walk toward the house, leavin’ him on the ground, coughin’ and gaggin’ and groanin’ in pain. Sorry-ass motherfucka!

  Five-thirty in the mornin’, I’m up fightin’ with these bad-ass kids of mine to get up and get ready for school. “Day’Asia, wake up,” I say as I open her door and walk in. She groans.

  “Aiight, Ma. In a minute.”

  “No. Your minute’s up. Now.” I close her door, then make my next stop to Marquelle’s and Joshua’s room. I’m glad Marquelle’s at his fahver’s house. He’s one less person I have to yell at this mornin’.

  “C’mon, Joshua, it’s time to get up,” I say, walkin’ into his room. I gasp as he quickly throws the covers up over himself. I’ve walked in on him jerkin’ off, again.

  “Dang, Ma! Why can’t you knock first?”

  “Boy, don’t talk shit. Bust your nut before six instead of playin’ with your damn dick every mornin’ and you wouldn’t have to worry about me knockin’.”

  He sucks his teeth. “I’ma start lockin’ my door, for real.”

  “You do and there won’t be no door. Now finish up doing whatever you were doing with that little thing in your hand, then get your ass up. And I want that bed made today, if not you’ll be sleepin’ your ass on the floor. And you better wash them nasty-ass hands!” I walk out, shuttin’ the door.

  I make my way into the twins’ room. “C’mon, Tyquan and Fuquan,” I say, walkin’ over to their beds and gently shakin’ them, “get up, babies.”

  “Noooo,” Tyquan says, pullin’ his Spiderman comforter up over his head. “I don’t want to.”

  “Ty, c’mon now, be a good boy and get up for Mommy.”

  Fuquan gets up without issue. I give him a hug and kiss, then tell him to take his shower. “That’s Mommy’s little man. You’re such a good boy.”

  “I love you, Mommy,” he says, rubbin’ sleep from his eyes.

  “I love you, too, Punkin. Make sure you wash your face and brush your teeth, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I take a deep breath, knowing it’s gonna be one of those days. “Tyquan, c’mon,” I say, yankin’ the covers back. “Let’s go.”

  “Leave meeeee alone! I’m not talkin’ to you. You hit my daddy!”

  I frown. Take another deep breath because I feel myself about to go the hell off. I yank him up by his collar and start shakin’ him. “Boy, don’t play with me. I don’t give up fuck about you not talkin’ to me. Ya black-ass daddy ain’t shit. Now get your ass up before I fuck you up. And don’t give me any more of your goddamn back talk. Do you understand me?”

  His bottom lip quivers.

  “I said, do you understand?”

  He stares me down.

  I shake him again. “Do you want me to punch your motherfuckin’ eyeballs out?”

  “N-n-no.”

  “Then get your ass up. And don’t let me have to come back in here.” I let him go, then walk down to Elijah and Isaiah’s room. I call their names. Tell them to get up. Elijah is the only one who does. Isaiah doesn’t stir. I stomp outta his room and into my bathroom.

  “I’m sick of you motherfuckas in here doin’ whatever the fuck you want. When I say get up I mean get. The. Fuck. Up. Y’all wanna stay up all motherfuckin’ night, and think your asses don’t have to get up for school . . . ”

  I fill a bucket with cold water, then go into the kitchen and dump four trays of ice cubes in, then march back into his bedroom. I yank the covers back and toss the whole bucket of water on him. “Get the fuck up!”

  He jumps up, screamin’. “What the fuck?!”

  “Don’t you ‘what the fuck’ me, boy.” I bang him upside his head with the bucket. “I said get your ass up. And I want all that water cleaned up, now!”

  He sucks his teeth, mumblin’ shit under his breath. But he does what he’s told. Next stop is goin’ back to make sure Day’Asia’s up.

  “Day’Asia!” I scream, swingin’ open her bedroom door, causin’ it to hit the back of the wall. “Get y
our black ass up! And why the fuck is this room so nasty? There’s no reason for you to be so goddamn triflin’.”

  She jerks up in bed. “Alright, dang, Ma! I’m up!”

  “Don’t ‘dang, Ma’ me. Get your lazy ass up and outta bed! And I want this room cleaned. And if I have to come back in here again, I’m gonna beat your ass sideways.” I walk out.

  One hour and fifteen minutes later, Day’Asia, Joshua, Elijah, and Isaiah have already left for school. And the twins and I are on our way out the door. “Stop it!” Fuquan screams at the top of his lungs. “Mommy, will you tell Ty to stop it? He’s hittin’ me.”

  “Ty, get your jacket on and let’s go. And keep ya goddamn hands off your brother.”

  “Tattletale,” he says to Fuquan. I hear a smack, then yellin’.

  Fuquan runs into the kitchen and grabs a knife out of the drawer. “I’ma fuck you up!” he yells, chasin’ his brother around the house. Tyquan runs out the door, laughin’.

  I run out the door behind them, yellin’. “Fuquan! Fuquan! Get your ass back in this house with that motherfuckin’ knife!”

  “No!” he screams, chasin’ his brother around the yard, wildly swingin’ the knife. “I’m gonna cut his black ass open!”

  “Fuquan! It’s too early in the mornin’ for this shit! Get your ass over here and bring me that goddamn knife!” He ignores me. I kick off my heels and chase him down, snatchin’ him by the back of his hoodie. I dig my nails into his arm, clenchin’my teeth.

  He is cryin’ and cursin’. I don’t know where the hell these bad-ass lil’ fuckers get their filthy mouths from but it’s outta control. “I told you to tell him to leave me the fuck alone!”

  “Hahahahah, pussy,” Tyquan says.

  “Fuck you, bitch!” Fuquan yells back. “See, you don’t ever say anything to that fucker!”

  I smack him on his ass.

  “What I tell you about your filthy-ass mouth? Don’t have me wash your goddamn mouth out with bleach. Now get your evil ass in the house and wash your damn face and put some lotion on it, then change that shirt.” Tyquan is still laughin’. “Tyquan, get your ass in the truck. I’m sick of this shit. Every goddamn mornin’ I gotta go through this bullshit with the both of you. Keep it up, and I’ma put both of your asses in a home.”

  I go back inside and beat Fuquan’s ass for pullin’ a knife out on his brother and for having me chase him. “Now, I don’t want any more shit outta you for the rest of the day. Do you understand me?”

  He sniffles and coughs. “Yes.”

  I give him a hug. “You don’t ever pull a knife out on your brothers, or your sister, you hear me?” he nods. “If they fuck with you, you beat them with your fists. You save the knives for a motherfucka out in the streets, you understand?”

  He nods again. “Yes.”

  “Good. Now give me a hug and let’s go.”

  I set the alarms, lock the double locks. Then head to the truck. I open the back passenger door and beat Tyquan’s ass for makin’ them late for school. “And if you go up in there and open your mouth, I’ma fuck you up some more. Now put your goddamn seatbelt on. I don’t know why you kids gotta make me get ghetto every fuckin’ mornin’.”

  ‘ ”Cause you are ghetto,” he says.

  “Boy, I’ma ghetto my fist in your mouth if you keep talkin’ shit.”

  I slam the passenger door, then hop into the driver’s seat. I start the engine and roll the windows down. Then frown when I realize somethin’s wrong with my truck. It’s drooping low in the back. What in the hell? I get out and check the rear tires and they’re flat. Someone has either slashed ’em or let the air out of ’em.

  “Motherfuck!” I snap, grabbin’ my handbag and pullin’ out my cell.

  “Mommy, what happened?” Fuquan wants to know.

  “Someone flattened my goddamn tires.”

  Tyquan laughs. “That’s what you get!”

  “Boy, shut your damn mouth before I punch you in it,” I snap, waiting for Vernon’s ass to pick up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Motherfucka, I know you flattened my tires.”

  He laughs. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.”

  “Laugh all you want, pussy motherfucka. But let’s see how funny you think shit is when I beat your bitch’s ass the next time I see her, okay? Then I’ma take a brick to your head. See you in court, niggah. Now laugh on that.” I disconnect.

  “I hope my daddy jumps on yo’ ass,” Tyquan says, kicking the back of my seat.

  I swing around in my seat. “I mean it, Ty. Shut your ass up before I reach back there and punch your motherfuckin’ front teeth in. I see why bitches be fuckin’ their kids up and settin’ their asses on fire and doin’ all other kinda crazy shit to ’em. You about to take me there in one hot second. Now kick my seat again and I’ma break your goddamn ankles. Now try me.”

  Eleven

  “Wassup, Cassandra?” Benji, the six-six, two-hundred-eighty-pound bouncer, says to me as he’s scannin’ me with the wand to make sure I’m not carryin’ heat. It’s Thursday night and The Crack House is about to be swarmin’ with dicks and hoes. And after the damn mornin’ I’ve had with my damn bad-ass kids I need to let it all hang loose. And anything’s likely to pop off up in here tonight. Thursday to Saturday it’s the only time they step up security and charge a twenty-five-dollar coverage charge. Ladies are free before ten. And I like being perched up at the bar facin’ the door to see who’s comin’ and goin’ before it gets packed. “We not gonna have any problems outta you tonight, are we?” His breath smells like hot shit.

  I scrunch my nose up. “Niggah, damn. Whose funky ass you been eatin’?”

  He frowns, givin’ me a confused look. “What?”

  “Your mouth, niggah. Smells like somethin’ crawled up in it and died.”

  He ignores me, repeatin’ himself. “Are you gonna be on your bullshit tonight, Cass?”

  He’s talkin’ about the little situation that popped off up in here last month when I ended up havin’ to take it to some young ho’s head. This little, young messy, hot-in-the-ass ho jumped up in Dickalina’s face—I know, I know. The shit had nothin’ to do with me. Still, she started poppin’ off at the mouth real greasy; makin’ all kinda threats over some dumb shit that had to do with Knutz’s no-good ass.

  “You ugly bitch,” she said in front of her little fan club—an entourage of about six hood rat bitches all in their early twenties. She had the neck-rollin’ and her fingers all up in Dickalina’s face. “Suck a dick and swallow! Knutz don’t want your dumb-ass, anymore. So you need to stop riding the niggah’s dick with your nasty, stretched-out-pussy self. Yeah, he told me how loosey-goosey you are. Knutz don’t even like fuckin’ ya old ass. Why? ’Cause he’s gettin’ all this young, tight pussy; somethin’ you wish you had. Now stay the fuck away from my man, Dickalina. Silly-ass bitch!”

  That ho was really goin’ in on Lina like she had snatched herself the million-dollar door prize. And although, it didn’t have shit to do with me, I thought the whole thing was funny. ’Cause I knew, whether it was true or not, that Dickalina’s dumb ass was gonna believe whatever game Knutz spit outta his mouth. And she did; hence why she’s still with the no-good motherfucka.

  “What the fuck you laughin’ at, bitch?” Miss Hot-in-the-Ass snapped, givin’ me the evil eye. “You can get it too, with ya ho-ass. Yeah, I know who you are with ya trampy ass.”

  Wrong! Now it was obvious that the bitch hadn’t Googled me, or done her homework around here because had she, she woulda known that I am not the one to fuck with. So she had to get schooled. See. Unlike Dickalina, I’m not gonna go back and forth with some ho; especially some live firecracker. Nope. I’ma stomp her fire out real quick. And that’s exactly what I did when I reached over the bar and grabbed that bottle of Ciroc and took it to her damn head. She didn’t know what hit her until she hit the damn floor. I knocked her ass out, then turned around and finished drinking my drink. And I dared
any other bitch to say another motherfuckin’ word sideways to me, at me, or anywhere around me. They didn’t. They dragged that bitch on up outta here and went on about their business.

  I suck my teeth. “Niggah-bitch, how am I supposed to know? Do you see a crystal ball growin’ outta my forehead?”

  He laughs. “Yeah aiight. Take ya evil ass on, wit’ ya sexy self. But don’t have me toss ya ass up outta here tonight, Cass.”

  “Then make sure you keep them slimy bitches you let up in here in check,” I say over my shoulder.

  “I’m dead-ass. You start any shit tonight and your ass is gonna get banned from comin’ up in here. You always wait until the weekends when I’m working to start shit up.”

  “Well, it’s Thursday, niggah. The weekend doesn’t start until tomorrow night. Dumb-ass.”

  “Yo, you know what the fuck I mean.”

  “Whatever, Shit Breath. I do what I do. If a bitch steps outta pocket, you already know I’ma tear this motherfucka up. You should know by now I don’t mind gettin’ arrested, or goin’ to jail. I’ll be bailed out before the ink dries. So save your energy. Just lock nine-one-one on speed dial, and do what you gotta do.”

  He shakes his head, wavin’ the dude who was in back of me up to get frisked. A double-chinned chick with bad skin and a fucked-up weave is sittin’ behind the bulletproof glass, eyein’ me. I stop in front of the booth and open up my bag, fishing out a card. I slide it to her. “Sweetie, you need to hit up my girl, Pasha, down at Nappy No More and let her handle that weave. ’Cause that mess you got goin’ on is dead wrong, sugah-boo.” She rolls her eyes, buzzin’ me in. Oh, well. I tried.

  As soon as I walk through the door Maino’s “Million Bucks” starts playin’. Whew, every time I hear this shit it makes me wanna lick all over them sexy tats on his body and fuck the skin off his dick. “Aaah, shit . . . ” I snap my fingers and pop my hips through the door.