Homecoming(Welcome Back)
“JACOBY MARTIN!”
I walked to the gate, escorted by the guard. I had already had my court hearing on Monday, and basically after sittin my Black ass down at Rice Street for almost a month, they were letting me go. Them bastards were trynna hold me longer but they couldn’t find the shit, so they couldn’t make the “possession of narcotics” charge stick…but them fuckers still held me, tryin to find some shit. I mutha fuckin hate APD, them corrupt bastards.
I signed off on my possessions- sixty dollars, my wallet, my cellphone, my chap stick, and my A-Town fitted. I grabbed the bag, and walked out the electric doors as the buzzer sounded. The lady guard handed me a sheet of paper. “You got an appointment with your probation officer, next week,”
“Probation? Man, what the fuck?” I yelled out.
“They couldn’t charge you, with possession of narcotics, but that nickel bag of weed they got off you…you gotta check in with probation. If you don’t show, they put a warrant out for you,”
“This is some bullshit,” I groaned. “I aint gotta pay nothing, right?”
“Hells yeah…a $30 dollar probation fee,” she answered. I rolled my eyes…the system is something else, forreal- designed to fuck a poor nigga over. They couldn’t get me for the big shit, so they were gonna nickel and dime me on this little fuckin bag of weed. They might as well have kept my Black ass in jail an extra week, over that shit. I walked to the down the path, until I got to Rice Street. I aint even have exact change to catch the bus, so I put on my cap and walked. I really didn’t wanna put on the hat, cause it was all beat up and dirty, from when the Po-pos roughed me up, but my hair had grown, and I couldn’t even comb it. First thing on the list after a nigga get a bath and some real food- get my Black ass, a haircut.
I finally made it over to a Church’s chicken, and walked inside. I got a 4-piece chicken tenders meal, wit some fries, two honey butter biscuits, and a Strawberry Fanta. I sat back, eatin it up, as I noticed some other folks comin in. That’s when I saw my boy Kantrell stepped in…he looked to me. “Damn J, is that you, nigga? When you get out?”
I stood up as I gave my nigga daps, and a bruh hug. He stepped back, waving his hand. “Whoo nigga, you smell a lil rank,”
“I know. I just got out today, nigga. You can gimme a ride to my spot?” I asked.
“Yeah. Lemme get this chicken first. You comin over to my place afterwards?”
“I gotta see…you know I gotta check in with moms, and make sure Max is doin okay,” I said. “I may even take me a nap…get back in my own bed, and get some serious sleep,”
“I feel ya. Let me know when you comin my way. I got that dro foe ya,” said Kantrell. I sat back in my seat, to finish off my meal, as he ordered his food. Kantrell walked over to me, with his bag in his hand. “You ready?”
I put down my napkin, and grabbed my soda. We walked to his car- a 1981 Chevy Monte Carlo. Kantrell hadn’t painted it yet- it was burgundy with rust on it, and the roof was a dingy ragtop, but the engine on that bitch was boss, and he had it sittin on some 22’s with Akuza Black Ice rims. The interior was clean was hell- he had that shit reupholstered, and had the inside of the doors redone. He had the stereo system upgraded, where he could put in his CD’s and hook up an iPod. I stepped back, admiring the beauty. “This shit is hella tight! I was supposed to been buyin me a ride before I got locked up,”
“I been puttin lil bit by lil bit in it. Def had to get an alarm system foe this bitch,” said Kantrell. “I’mma get it painted in a couple of weeks…then get the top done,”
We got inside the car, and pulled out the Church’s chicken parking lot. The engine was soundin like a beast, as it grumbled and you could hear the exhaust roarin. Kantrell turned up the sounds on his stereo, bumpin that Gucci Mane, as he rolled to my apartment. He pulled into the parkin spot, near my unit. “Hit me up, when you ready to hang out. We can go scrounge up some hoes an shit,”
I kicked out a laugh, then gave Kantrell daps. “Aight, man…I’ll catch up witchu, nigga. Be easy,”
Kantrell pulled out the parking spot and left. I looked over to building L, seein some hatin-ass niggas. I don’t even know who them niggas are, but they some bitch ass niggas- be waitin until some of these people leave and go to work, and then be breakin in folks apartments in here, stealin they shit. When they first built these apartments over here, they were doin credit checks out the wahzoo. But then I guess they changed management, and this new management just want the fuckin money. They let any fuckin body move in here…that’s where these niggas came in. Everybody knows it’s these niggas that be breakin in people’s apartments an shit, just people are too scared to say shit. They haven’t broken in my place yet, because A) I got a mutha fuckin dog, and B) I live next door to a cop. Funny, huh? I be puttin in work, and I live next door to a Po-po…but I didn’t get busted over here. I got ran up on, off Bankhead(which they now renamed Donald Lee Hollowell). I walked upstairs to my apartment and unlocked my door, as I heard my dog. I stepped inside, as Teja jumped up at me. I laughed, closing the door. “Down, girl!”
I rubbed on her neck, and scratched at her ears…it was obvious, that she was happy to see me. Teja was my boxer, about 5 years old, pure bred…I had papers and everything- AKC certified, and all that. My sister, Max, had done good by coming over and feeding Teja, taking her on walks, and bathroom breaks. I wouldda asked her to take Teja to moms, but I didn’t trust them niggas- they might’ve been watchin her…and Teja was trained enough to know not to shit in the house. I closed the windows, and turned on the A/C…it was hotter than a mutha fucka in the A today. I peeled out of the dirty ass t-shirt, and threw it in the trash. Fuck it, it aint like I don’t have a buttload of white tees. I also threw the khaki cargo shorts, my cap, my socks, and my draws in the trash too.
I hopped in the shower and washed up…it felt good, havin clean water, as opposed that crappy ass water they had down on Rice Street. I washed my hair, and stood there in the shower, makin sure that I had washed all the damn jail off of me. I then stepped out, and dried off, putting on powder and some deodorant. I reached in my dresser and put on some clean boxers, a pair of sweats, and a wifebeater. I lay on my bed- it felt so good to be at home, in my bed. I looked to my phone, which was charging. I then, stood up from my bed, and walked to my fridge, lookin inside. Damn…I was gonna need to buy some grocery. I looked at Teja’s food…she was runnin low too. She had a few cans of moist food left, and a third of her dry food.
I opened the doors on my TV stand and pulled out my laptop. I checked my Facebook…niggas been droppin me messages. I typed my status message…
BACK FROM VACATION ON RICE STREET.
I shut down my Facebook, and shut off my laptop, placing it back inside my TV stand, on top of my DVD player. I looked around in the kitchen. Of course no messy dishes, my dirty clothes in the utility closet were still there, but sis had took out my trash…that was cool of her. Teja barked, and then I heard the door turnin, like someone was comin in. It could only be one person, with a key to my place.
Maxine, my sister.
“Jacoby!” she cried out, running to me and giving me a hug. “When did you get home?”
“This afternoon,” I answered. “Thanks for lookin out for Teja for me. I hope she wasn’t any trouble,”
“Nah…Teja was sweet,” said Max, as she patted Teja. “I was coming by, to take her out for a walk, and her bathroom break,”
“Let’s do that. I need to get some groceries. Can you take me to get some?” I asked, as I grabbed Teja’s chain. I put in on her, as we walked outside…I had on my flip flops. Max looked at my hair. “Dang boy, you need a haircut,”
“I know,” I groaned. Maxine was my younger sister, and she still stayed with our mom. My dad had died about four years ago…he worked at Lockheed-Martin, an aviation design company that makes planes, and military stuff. My mom gets the leftover pension money, and his 401 K stuff…shit just got even more fucked up when my pops died…me and my mom fell out, and I moved. I was supposed to had went to college and all that, but I said “fuck it”, and ended up sellin. I’ve been in Max’s ass though…just because I didn’t go to college doesn’t mean that she shouldn’t go. Max was here, because she drove Mom’s car over here…that’s why I wanted her to take me grocery shopping. We stood there, while Teja handled her business.
“How’s Mom?”
“She’s doin okay. I know she will be happy to find out that you are out of jail,” said Max.
“Yeah well, I gotta get some work,” I said. “I heard you a senior now…that’s gotta be good. Take your SAT yet?”
“Not yet,”
“Take it,” I said.
“I don’t understand why I have to do all this, and you didn’t?” whined Max. I tilted my head, looking at her wit a straight face. “It aint a need for you to know why I didn’t do things, and didn’t go to college. You don’t do what I do,”
Max looked away, as I heard her huff from under her breath. I walked to her. “Do you want both of us to send Mom to an early grave?”
“No,” droned Max.
“There aint nothin nice in these streets, Max…especially, where a female is concerned. Get yo grades, and go to college. Who knows…? I might follow behind you,”
Maxine laughed, as she turned back to me. “You go to college? I aint sayin that your grades suck. You just didn’t like folks tellin you what to do…especially after Dad died,”
“Yeah, well…seems like I gotta do a damn probation officer,” I said. Teja had finished, so Max and I walked around the apartments. “I gotta get a job…I gotta figure somethin,”
“Go to barber school- cut hair. You know barbers always get paid…guys gonna always need their haircut,” said Max. I looked to her. “Is that a hint, that I really need to get my hair cut?”
She laughed, as I looked at her. “No. I’m just sayin…barbers make good money. And it’s a respectable thing to do until you really figure what you wanna do. You 19, so you are still good, Jacoby,”
“You might be right,” I said.
Max’s text alert sounded. She looked at it. “That’s Mama…so if you wanna go to the store and get your haircut, we gotta do it now,”
“Aight,” I gestured, as we turnt around, and walked back to my apartment. I’m lookin out the corner of my eyes, at these broke-down ass niggas standin around building L, sittin there trynna holla at my sister, goin “psst!”- like I can’t hear that.
“Don’t pay it no mind, Jacoby,” said Max, as she held my hand. We went back upstairs to my place. I took the chain off Teja, and fixed her a clean cold bowl of water…Max sat down on the sofa, as I went to my room to change clothes.
I put on some Black cargo shorts, some ankle socks, and put on my all-White Nike Air Force ones…I put all my shit in my pockets- my wallet, my house keys, my chap stick, and unplugged my cellphone. I had a butt-friggin load of messages on that bitch…I’ll check em later. I reached in my stash, and pulled out some extra money that I usually kept for days like this- if I had gotten caught, and was in jail…I pulled out four hundred dollars, and stuck it in my pocket. I walked back into the living room, as Teja lay in her doggy bed…I decided to leave the A/C on, since I was gonna be gone for a little while.
Max and I left my place, getting into the car. She turnt on the radio, listening to HOT 107…I just sat to the side, as she drove. Max wasn’t a bad driver, either…I looked out the window, at things. Bein out of jail made you appreciate the air, and the sky, and your freedom…I didn’t wanna go back.
“Corliss been askin about you,” Max said.
“And…?”
“That all you got to say? You not gonna ask for her number?” asked Max. “She goin to college over there at Spelman,”
“And you tellin me this, because…?”
“I just thought you might wanna holler at her,”
I sat back and looked out the window…Corliss Hamilton was some cute little red-boned bitch, who I liked back in high school. She was diggin me too, but we never did get quite get together because of Quintarious Jeter. Quint Jeter was rollin with some crew from Adamsville, and I usually hung out with my niggas in Allen Temple. Me and that nigga had major beef back in high school…he called himself claimin Corliss back then, so me and her didn’t exactly hook up. Corliss graduated and went to Spelman College, and here I was- in these streets. What could she possibly want with me?
We arrived at the grocery store…the first area I went, was to get Teja some more dog food. I got the natural dry shit, that was good for her system, as well as grabbed a couple cans of moist food. I had also grabbed some doggie dental treats that would keep her teeth healthy, as well as kill germs in her mouth. Max rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong- I love Teja too, but you spend way too much on her,”
“I love Teja. She is fuckin loyal…you can’t get that type of loyalty from anyone,” I said. I then started to shop for my own ass some food. Max had went over to the make up…I seen this lil cute ass chick, standin over by the seafood. As I got closer, she turned to me and smiled. Her hair wasn’t all that, but she had the cutest eyes, and lips…she smallish titties, but that ass was nice and bubbly. She had some nice legs too.
All of a sudden, this big ass burly, dyke bitch comes up and starts talkin to her…I turned onto another aisle, and acted like I was lookin at some stuff…I could barely hear they conversation. I guess that girl was the dyke bitch’s girl, because I could definitely hear “baby” sometimes through the convo…I then continued my shopping, as I realized that I still needed to get a haircut, and Max had to get the car back to moms.
Max and I had finished in the check out lane- actually spent about three, so I had quite a bit left in my pocket. I looked to lane 5, and seen the dyke chick, and the cute bitch checking out…they had shrimp, pasta, and some other stuff- somebody was havin shrimp for dinner tonight. The girl glanced to me again, and smiled…I smiled back, as Max looked for her keys. As soon as the dyke bitch looked my way, I was lookin elsewhere. Max finally found the keys, and we walked to the car. “Now let’s go get my haircut,”
I saw the cute girl walkin with the dyke lookin chick to the bus stop, as we rode by. I swear, if I see that chick again, I’mma get her number…and the pussy.