WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY. The morning music of the singing birds came through the open window, and one could smell the warmth and brightness of the day in the air.
Curtis rolled over and tried to cover his head with a sheet, but the sunshine still came through. It wasn't really the hot sunshine that he was trying to hide from, he just didn't want to face the day. The past night's work was too much for him. It was all too stark raving clear in his mind. He could still feel the blood of the dead man on his hands, even though he had almost rubbed his skin off trying to wash the blood when he had come home that morning.
"Honey," Shirley's voice drifted to him from the kitchen, "would you like a large breakfast this morning, or just some black coffee?"
"Coffee, dear," Curtis called back, then kicked the sheets off and climbed out of his bed. Curtis raised his arms and stretched. He could smell the morning's fresh air, yet he took no enjoyment in it. What he had tried not to think about came rushing back to him.
After slipping on a robe, Curtis went into the kitchen. "Honey," he began, "what you want to do today? I'm going over to Mom's pad in a little while, so if you want to, you can gather up the kids when they come home for lunch and take them along."
Before answering, Shirley set a cup of coffee in front of him. "Curt, I got all that washin' to do, baby, so I better stay home and get it finished. Maybe later on this afternoon when you get back I'll be finished and we can ride out to a park or something."
Neither one wanted to bring up the killings. They talked around the subject. Finally, Shirley sat down at the kitchen table beside Curtis. "It ain't no use blaming yourself for what happened, Curt. Dan is just a no-good bastard, that's all."
"Yeah, I know. It's easy to tell yourself that, but people think me and Dan are closer than what we really are," Curtis said softly as he slowly sipped his steaming coffee.
"Shit!" she exclaimed. "You're not responsible for what another nigger does, daddy, so don't worry yourself over it!"
They were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Shirley got up quickly and went to the door. She didn't bother opening it, but just glanced through the peephole.
"Ain't nothing happenin', dear," Curt heard her say. Then she added, "I don't know how long it's goin' be, maybe a day or sometime tomorrow. But it ain't goin' be no time soon, so don't come back in the next couple of hours."
She returned to the kitchen shaking her head. "At times I feel sorry for them addicts. Then another time I don't give a shit what happens to them. I know one thing, Curt, they will worry the fuckin' shit out of a person about that goddamn dope!"
Curtis nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, honey, I know they get on your nerves, but try not to be too mean to them when you speak. I mean, we do live quite good off them, so we have to put up with them. At least, until we get where we don't have to deal in such small packages; then the money will be bigger and everything."
"I ain't worried about the money, Curt. We're gettin' more money now than I've ever believed possible. It's just that dopefiends are so goddamn dangerous! Look at that shit Dan pulled off. You never know what's going to happen when you deal with them kind of people, that's all."
Curtis looked at her. "Honey, if you feel thataway about it, maybe I can set up something different than what we are going through right now."
"Like what, Curt?" she asked curiously.
"I don't really know offhand, Shirley, but if I could find some guy I could trust, I'd put a bag in his hands, or better yet, I'd rent a place for him to live and sell the jive out of."
"It sounds good, Curt, but can you find somebody you can put that much faith in?"
He tossed his hands in the air. "Ain't no sense of worrying about all that mess right now, Shirley, 'cause I don't even know when I'll be able to cop again. After that shit last night, fat-ass George is frightened
Curtis rolled over and tried to cover his head with a sheet, but the sunshine still came through. It wasn't really the hot sunshine that he was trying to hide from, he just didn't want to face the day. The past night's work was too much for him. It was all too stark raving clear in his mind. He could still feel the blood of the dead man on his hands, even though he had almost rubbed his skin off trying to wash the blood when he had come home that morning.
"Honey," Shirley's voice drifted to him from the kitchen, "would you like a large breakfast this morning, or just some black coffee?"
"Coffee, dear," Curtis called back, then kicked the sheets off and climbed out of his bed. Curtis raised his arms and stretched. He could smell the morning's fresh air, yet he took no enjoyment in it. What he had tried not to think about came rushing back to him.
After slipping on a robe, Curtis went into the kitchen. "Honey," he began, "what you want to do today? I'm going over to Mom's pad in a little while, so if you want to, you can gather up the kids when they come home for lunch and take them along."
Before answering, Shirley set a cup of coffee in front of him. "Curt, I got all that washin' to do, baby, so I better stay home and get it finished. Maybe later on this afternoon when you get back I'll be finished and we can ride out to a park or something."
Neither one wanted to bring up the killings. They talked around the subject. Finally, Shirley sat down at the kitchen table beside Curtis. "It ain't no use blaming yourself for what happened, Curt. Dan is just a no-good bastard, that's all."
"Yeah, I know. It's easy to tell yourself that, but people think me and Dan are closer than what we really are," Curtis said softly as he slowly sipped his steaming coffee.
"Shit!" she exclaimed. "You're not responsible for what another nigger does, daddy, so don't worry yourself over it!"
They were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Shirley got up quickly and went to the door. She didn't bother opening it, but just glanced through the peephole.
"Ain't nothing happenin', dear," Curt heard her say. Then she added, "I don't know how long it's goin' be, maybe a day or sometime tomorrow. But it ain't goin' be no time soon, so don't come back in the next couple of hours."
She returned to the kitchen shaking her head. "At times I feel sorry for them addicts. Then another time I don't give a shit what happens to them. I know one thing, Curt, they will worry the fuckin' shit out of a person about that goddamn dope!"
Curtis nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, honey, I know they get on your nerves, but try not to be too mean to them when you speak. I mean, we do live quite good off them, so we have to put up with them. At least, until we get where we don't have to deal in such small packages; then the money will be bigger and everything."
"I ain't worried about the money, Curt. We're gettin' more money now than I've ever believed possible. It's just that dopefiends are so goddamn dangerous! Look at that shit Dan pulled off. You never know what's going to happen when you deal with them kind of people, that's all."
Curtis looked at her. "Honey, if you feel thataway about it, maybe I can set up something different than what we are going through right now."
"Like what, Curt?" she asked curiously.
"I don't really know offhand, Shirley, but if I could find some guy I could trust, I'd put a bag in his hands, or better yet, I'd rent a place for him to live and sell the jive out of."
"It sounds good, Curt, but can you find somebody you can put that much faith in?"
He tossed his hands in the air. "Ain't no sense of worrying about all that mess right now, Shirley, 'cause I don't even know when I'll be able to cop again. After that shit last night, fat-ass George is frightened
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