trace of each woman after he uses her.
I imagined that this was his second apartment. Somehow I felt he had a bunch of random girls and random babies, people who he had abandoned. But I did not know for sure. I decided maybe I should stop being so tight and talk to this cat for a minute. At least I could be smart enough to collect some more information on him.
He came back holding a machete. He was using it to cut slices off an apple he began eating. The blade was long and sharp enough to sever his entire hand with one wrong motion.
I seen everything he did was slick and subtle.
There was no fear in my heart. I was holding enough weapons on me to slice him up in pieces smaller than that apple he was eating.
He watched to see if I would react in any way to his blade. I didn’t blink.
“One thousand five hundred dollars for the deposit,” I told him dryly and calmly. He laughed a little, placed his knife and apple on his heavy wooden table right next to two decks of playing cards, a pile of chew sticks, and a half-empty bottle of white rum. He kept his eyes on me as he slid his hand into his right pocket, pulling out a wad of dirty bills. He counted out loud in his version of the English language.Seemed like he had a dramatic and different way of pronouncing every English word,
tree
instead of
three
and so on. I took the cash deposit he handed over to me.
“Thank you. I’ll give you a call as soon as your curtains are ready.”
“Ya want fa sit don ere? Ya look tense, mon, seckle ya self. You want fa blow some trees?” he asked.
“What?” I said.
“Hold on.” Barefooted, he left again. He came back with two big spliffs burning, both of them in his mouth.
“Try and com down, na.” He offered me one, which he now held pinched between his thumb and index finger, smiling at me like I was his new friend.
“Nah, I’m good,” I told him, rejecting his weed.
“When I-man curtains complete we celebrate seen.” He laughed. As he began smoking both spliffs, I left.
I didn’t know what his occupation or business was. But I was starting to form a picture in my mind.
Umma was excited about earning the money for the curtains and moving closer to our financial goals. I should have been happy too, but I was heated.
“Do you know this man?” I asked her with an even and respectful tone.
“No.”
“You never met him before?” I double checked.
“No. Is there some problem? If there is a problem we don’t have to do business with him,” she answered.
“No problem, Umma. I just want to make sure he talks business with me and doesn’t talk to you at all,” I said. “I don’t want him going anywhere near your job.”
“Of course,” she said gently.
One late night on the basketball court alone, I thought about how uneasy I felt about this guy because he knew where my mother worked. Whether I dropped him as a client or not,he would still always know exactly where to go to get at her. I also knew that what he really wanted was hidden behind his constant requests for sewing services.
Weeks later when I spoke to Gold on the phone to set up the curtain delivery, his intensity toward my mother had only increased. He requested that I bring her with me to his place because the curtains had to get hung. He tried to keep me from hanging the curtains myself by insulting my manhood. “Ya know dat’s woman’s work . . .”
I fired back, “Umma Designs is only contracted to make your drapes. The product is ready and in perfect condition. You or your woman can hang the drapes.”
He chuckled. “I-rie,” he said.
Gold Star Tafari didn’t have my money ready when I knocked at his door at the agreed-upon time. That was the first indication that this transaction wasn’t about to flow right.
“Come in, na,” he said, releasing the doorknob from his grip so that the heavy door pressed against me and the iron bar dragged against the metal as I carried in the well-packaged drapes.
“Where do you want
I imagined that this was his second apartment. Somehow I felt he had a bunch of random girls and random babies, people who he had abandoned. But I did not know for sure. I decided maybe I should stop being so tight and talk to this cat for a minute. At least I could be smart enough to collect some more information on him.
He came back holding a machete. He was using it to cut slices off an apple he began eating. The blade was long and sharp enough to sever his entire hand with one wrong motion.
I seen everything he did was slick and subtle.
There was no fear in my heart. I was holding enough weapons on me to slice him up in pieces smaller than that apple he was eating.
He watched to see if I would react in any way to his blade. I didn’t blink.
“One thousand five hundred dollars for the deposit,” I told him dryly and calmly. He laughed a little, placed his knife and apple on his heavy wooden table right next to two decks of playing cards, a pile of chew sticks, and a half-empty bottle of white rum. He kept his eyes on me as he slid his hand into his right pocket, pulling out a wad of dirty bills. He counted out loud in his version of the English language.Seemed like he had a dramatic and different way of pronouncing every English word,
tree
instead of
three
and so on. I took the cash deposit he handed over to me.
“Thank you. I’ll give you a call as soon as your curtains are ready.”
“Ya want fa sit don ere? Ya look tense, mon, seckle ya self. You want fa blow some trees?” he asked.
“What?” I said.
“Hold on.” Barefooted, he left again. He came back with two big spliffs burning, both of them in his mouth.
“Try and com down, na.” He offered me one, which he now held pinched between his thumb and index finger, smiling at me like I was his new friend.
“Nah, I’m good,” I told him, rejecting his weed.
“When I-man curtains complete we celebrate seen.” He laughed. As he began smoking both spliffs, I left.
I didn’t know what his occupation or business was. But I was starting to form a picture in my mind.
Umma was excited about earning the money for the curtains and moving closer to our financial goals. I should have been happy too, but I was heated.
“Do you know this man?” I asked her with an even and respectful tone.
“No.”
“You never met him before?” I double checked.
“No. Is there some problem? If there is a problem we don’t have to do business with him,” she answered.
“No problem, Umma. I just want to make sure he talks business with me and doesn’t talk to you at all,” I said. “I don’t want him going anywhere near your job.”
“Of course,” she said gently.
One late night on the basketball court alone, I thought about how uneasy I felt about this guy because he knew where my mother worked. Whether I dropped him as a client or not,he would still always know exactly where to go to get at her. I also knew that what he really wanted was hidden behind his constant requests for sewing services.
Weeks later when I spoke to Gold on the phone to set up the curtain delivery, his intensity toward my mother had only increased. He requested that I bring her with me to his place because the curtains had to get hung. He tried to keep me from hanging the curtains myself by insulting my manhood. “Ya know dat’s woman’s work . . .”
I fired back, “Umma Designs is only contracted to make your drapes. The product is ready and in perfect condition. You or your woman can hang the drapes.”
He chuckled. “I-rie,” he said.
Gold Star Tafari didn’t have my money ready when I knocked at his door at the agreed-upon time. That was the first indication that this transaction wasn’t about to flow right.
“Come in, na,” he said, releasing the doorknob from his grip so that the heavy door pressed against me and the iron bar dragged against the metal as I carried in the well-packaged drapes.
“Where do you want
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