His Uptown Girl. Liz Talley

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СКАЧАТЬ You are. You already missed three days this semester and I saw that progress report. You gonna get held back.”

      “Nah, I ain’t.” Shorty D went to the fridge and grabbed a two-liter bottle and poured a glass of soda. “Ms. Barre don’t even take roll some days. We don’t do nothing in her class no way.”

      Tre grabbed a package of diapers he’d picked up at the dollar store the day before and walked toward the bathroom, Kenzie in his arms. “You’re going, Shorty.”

      Something set Kenzie off and she started screaming in his ear, drowning out the curses Shorty D popped off. Pieces of granola dropped onto his clean T-shirt as Tre realized he’d left her sippy cup on the counter.

      “Yeah, yeah. I could use a drink, too,” he said, walking behind the couch and kicking it as hard as he could. “Get the hell up, Cici. I gotta take Shorty D to school since you didn’t do it, and your baby needs to be fed.”

      Cici’s reply wasn’t fit for Kenzie’s ears, but that never stopped his aunt. Disappointment filled him. This wasn’t good for no one. His mother’s younger sister had fought against her addiction problems ever since she’d been Shorty D’s age. Tre’s own mother had led her sister into a life of drugs, booze and prostitution. Talia had kicked her habit before Shorty D had been born, but Cici never could pull that monkey off her back. Cici had Kenzie while in jail, and he and Big Mama had been taking care of the little girl, waiting for Cici to get clean and straighten the hell up, but it was a daily fight. And with Big Mama not in the house to pray over Cici, fuss at her and force her hand, Tre was just plain tired of fighting for his auntie.

      He cleaned up Kenzie, combed her hair into two puffy ponytails and put her in a clean dress Big Mama had sewed. The dress was too small, but Kenzie liked the funny green frogs on it. He tied green ribbons in her hair with looping lopsided bows. After brushing her teeth and finding her shoes, he dragged Shorty D’s clear plastic backpack from under the coffee table. With sorrowful brown eyes, Kenzie watched her mother as she slept on the couch, its stuffing peeking out the arm.

      Cici’s snores made him want to punch his aunt.

      Lazy-assed bitch needed to go back to jail. He didn’t need nobody else to take care of.

      “Maaa?” Kenzie asked, touching her mother’s face, making Tre’s heart hurt. He pulled the small girl back but not before Cici’s hand slapped the child’s hand away. Tears trembled on Kenzie’s lashes, and she stayed away as if she understood there was no hope left in the woman.

      Tre jerked his thoughts away from the pain and sadness—two feelings he had no use for. A man can’t change the world around him...only himself. He had to keep moving, sheltering Kenzie and Shorty D because they were innocent. They shouldn’t have to pay for everyone else’s selfish choices. Yeah, life wasn’t fair, but he’d do his best to even it up for them.

      Shorty D appeared in the doorway of the living room, wearing khaki pants that sagged too low to meet dress code and a wrinkled school-uniform shirt. Normally, Tre would make his brother change, but today he had to choose his battles.

      “Let’s go,” Tre said, picking up Kenzie, settling her on his hip before pushing out the wooden door of the old house in Central City. He stepped off the porch, wishing he’d grabbed his shades because the sun wanted to battle him, too, but he didn’t turn around. The bus would stop at the end of their street in five minutes.

      “Shorty D, today, son.”

      “I ain’t your son.” Shorty D slammed the door as laughter bounced across the street. Tre turned his head to see Grady Jefferson and Kelvin “Crazy Eight” Parker leaning against Grady’s Charger, a new 2013 model with twenty-inch rims and a custom paint job.

      “Damn, son. You runnin’ day care or what?” Crazy Eight called out, his laugh high and clownish. Tre didn’t like Crazy Eight much, but Grady was cool.

      “Yo,” Tre said, giving them a nod as Kenzie turned her little head toward the two gangsters. “What up?”

      Crazy Eight giggled again but Grady nodded. “A’ight. Later, bro.”

      Tre nodded, ignoring the knot in his gut. Grady ran with the 3-N-G boys and he’d mentioned a couple times about some easy ways Tre could earn money. Tre had always resisted the thug life, but lately he wondered why he bothered. He told himself it was because he’d made his mama a promise to take care of Shorty D, but couldn’t he do that a lot better with a roll in his pocket?

      He kept his chin high as he marched down the street, pretending like he wasn’t carrying a little girl who should have been potty-trained by now, followed by a ten-year-old who had remembered to grab his shades and who kept darting glances back at Grady like he was the man.

      Tre couldn’t blame Shorty D.

      Grady looked cool as shit.

      Tre would want to be him, too...if that kind of life didn’t lead to prison or getting his ass shot by a rival gang.

      “Hurry up, Shorty D. You already late.”

      “Man, this is bullshit. I’m tired of school and livin’ like this.”

      Tre didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t make things better for Shorty D at present. The kid had to go to school. Cici needed to beg for her job so they could pay the electric bill. And Tre had to figure out some way to get Big Mama strong again so she could take care of Kenzie. The woman who’d been minding his little cousin while Cici worked had just taken her own job. She’d told Tre he’d have to find someone else by next week.

      No one to help him and he needed to make more money than what he did lugging furniture around town for little more than minimum wage.

      He pulled out his bus pass and said a small prayer.

      God, help me through another day. Help me be strong and be the man You want me to be. And, please, God, help me say no to Grady when he asks me to ride with him.

      As he reached the bus stop at the corner of Carrollton, he caught the exhaust as the bus pulled away, heading toward the city and away from them.

      Shorty D looked up at him with a smirk. “Now, that’s some bullshit.”

      “Watch your language around this baby girl.”

      Shorty’s eyes were an old man’s as he slid off his sunglasses. “Like she ain’t goin’ find out soon enough.”

      Maybe God was tired of listening to Tre.

      Maybe, despite his best intentions, life was some bullshit.

      * * *

      ELEANOR LOVED THURSDAYS because it was delivery day, and today she was getting a new carton from the Cotswolds.

      However, the carton arrived late. There were only twenty minutes left before closing time, and the afternoon was dead. Maybe just a peek? She shoved the keyboard back and pulled her screwdriver and hammer from the bottom drawer.

      “Hey, Pans,” she called out her open office door. “Want to open the crate and see what’s inside?”

      She accidentally dropped the screwdriver and rooted under the desk for it. Grabbing it, she СКАЧАТЬ