Would You Please Bring Him Home?(Serially Lost Part 1)

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I was laboring under an uncomfortable feeling as I pulled my car in front of the crack house. I had a feeling that something wasn’t right. I knew this was normal for an using addict. But this was different.

After turning off my Lincoln Town car I got out and walked to the side of the apartment down some stairs then knocked on the door. This was my fourth return tonight. A slim older woman opened the door wearing a house coat partly opened. She smiled at me with an unlit Newport in her mouth. I could see her small right tit.

I followed the usual routine after making a score and smiled back as she backed up letting me in. Her apartment was very different from other crack houses; it was clean.

“Hold up Vincent,” she said while walking to the back bedroom. She had called me Vincent ever since Little Bit brought me over yesterday. I watched her nice ass. I knew if crack didn’t prevent me from getting it up she would had gotten it.

I could hear her ask someone in the back what their about to do then shortly after a rounded face dark-skinned brother comes out looking pissed off. He grabbed his car keys off the living room table, give me a hateful stare, then walked out. I knew he would be back because that’s what I was doing returning from being put out. That’s what all crack-heads do.

“Which one you want?” she asked while holding up two crack pipes: a metal one and a glass one. I choose the glass one then gave her some dope for letting me use her apartment.. She went to the back bed room and closed the door while I sat in the living room naked getting high.

**

The rain had stopped and the sun started to peek through the clouds. Bad weather had never stopped Little Bit before but this down pour forced her to seek shelter under an awning a block away from Biggie’s hangout. She shook her head frustrated then reached out her hand checking to see if it was okay to start her mission again. She had walked from the east side of town to give Biggie the message.

She checked her left front pocket on her worn jeans shorts nervously to make sure she had her paraphernalia at the same time looking out for the police. While passing a glass window on Union St., she couldn’t help but to notice how much drugs had changed her once athletic built body down to a scrawny little frame.

Little Bit had dreams to follow the footsteps of Serena Williams but caught in college giving a blow-job to the Dean and was kicked off the tennis team loosing her scholarship. After that she lost hope then got heavy into drugs. She knew the real reason she was let go because she was the only black girl on the team and she was their best player.

She could see Biggie leaning against his black 99′ Cadillac from Martin Luther King Dr. bridge. She notice it hadn’t rain on the other side of the bridge. She climbed over the rail and walked up Concordia St. She passed some old wine-heads sitting on buckets in an empty lot drinking Budweiser and telling each others lies about how many young girls they have. One asked her to come here but she kept walking.

“You crazy if you think LeBron is better than Jordan,” Biggie said to Slick while looking sideways at the blunt he just hit.

“Nigga Jordan had Pippen, Grant, Armstrong, Cartwright. And what’s that white dude name who use to shoot all those three’s?”

“Paxson.”

“Yeah Paxson.”

“When LeBron have six rings then come see me.” Biggie passed the blunt to Slick after it failed to stay lit.

Biggie was 6′ 3″ and nicely dressed. He looked liked he weighted less than his 276 pounds. He was soft-spoken but tried not to show it around his boys by acting hard. His uncle Mark never wanted to get his reserved nephew into the drug game but he knew he needed to keep his product moving while he severed ten years in the joint. Slick’s job was to watch Biggie back and to handle all problems they may have on the streets.

“What’s up Biggie?” Little Bit asked while walking up behind Biggie startling him.

“Shit don’t be walking up on me like that and shit,” Biggie said frowning through his curled up lips.

“I’ don’t have any credit to give.”

Little Bit thought for a moment then picked up a half cigarette from the ground. “You have a light?” Biggie reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a lighter and lit Little Bit’s cigarette. She knew Biggie wasn’t the thug type so she waited until Slick was off his cell phone and in hearing distance of what she was about to tell Biggie hoping to get something in return.

“I heard V told some old “Gee” that if you all wasn’t packing that he could beat all your asses one on one. He said you all ain’t nothing but some young punks.”

“V ain’t said no shit like that,” said Biggie.

Slick walked to Little Bit and put his left hand on her shoulder. He broke off a twenty piece of crack and slid it to her then told her to get off his block. Biggie stroked his imaginary beard then looked at Slick.

“You knew about this and hasn’t said anything?” “Yeah I’m just waiting for that nigga to slip up and come see us. I knew there were a reason we haven’t seen him in a while,” Slick said with a half-smile. Biggie looked away knowing Slick didn’t care if it was a rumor or not.

Writing 101:Serially Lost

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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