Hell, I wish it was Friday. Couldn't come faster." Angela groaned.
The Junior Shepard Gang was once again skipping class and being the delinquents they were known to be. Angela lounged on the heater, dramatically covering her face with her arm, despite that, Angela wasn't supposed to be in the Grass Room but Curly would always let her slide. Ed, Chris, and Curly always skipped sixth block, right after lunch to play cards and sell some grass, kids knew it was the best time to get it instead of hassling around to find them later.
"Friday's for pussies." Curly chuckled as he held a cigarette between his teeth and a few cards in his hands.
"At least I ain't afraid to give my date a kiss." Angela snorted.
"You ain't even supposed to be in here dumbass. Shut your trap before I tell Tim that I saw you and Johnny Cade fucking in the lot."
"Angie you was fucking Johnny Cade?" Chris asked with a smirk on his face.
"I wasn't!" Angela said quickly, sliding off the table quick to defend her case.
Curly was sure that he had seen Angela's hair tickling Johnny Cades shoulders. He wasn't thrilled that she was messing around with Johnny but it could've been worse, like Andrew or a rival gang member. Curly would keep his mouth shut just as long as she kept hers quiet too.
"Curly you went on a date?" Chris asks.
Chris throws out a heart and Curly tries not to roll his eyes, Christopher Jackson had to be the dumbest person that Curly had ever met. If Chris hadn't been such a good fighter, he wouldn't have made it into the Shepard Gang. Not only did the initiation process have some way or form of jumping you in, you had to have the brains to organize and execute your own job. Tim didn't want to test his chances with another gang snatching Chris so he took him before anything.
"Mind your business, Jackson." Curly said before throwing out a spade and cutting his heart.
"Yeah, he went on a date. And he didn't have the balls to kiss her."
Curly's cold blue eyes looked over at Angela's with a violent glare, she matched his face with the same glare, now propped up on her elbow with a satisfied smile. He felt bad for anyone who might cross paths with Angela, she could get anything she wanted, the thought of it was almost scary.
"You keep talking I'll fucking put you out."
"What's the big deal?" She replies, looking at her long red fingernails. "It ain't like I've never done a job before."
Curly slammed his cards on the table, holding himself back so he didn't lunge at her and yank her hair. "You was never supposed to do that job in the first place! You keep sneaking around and shit you'll find yourself d-"
"Curly someone's one the door." Ed said quietly.
Angela smiled with her painted red lips and she had once again won this fight. "Who is it?" He asked.
"I want the usual, yeah?" The voice sounded familiar but Curly couldn't remember exactly from where.
"You know the deal, slide it under."
The money slid through quickly along with a small piece of white paper with tiny capped writing on it. Curly didn't hesitate to slide the grass under the door, pocketing the five dollars and turning his back to the gang.
"How much we make today boss?" Ed asked.
"About 30 bucks. We still got the corners to work tonight."
We need to talk tmr. Same time&place .Brumley
Curly's expression hadn't changed but his heart began to beat quicker. Brumley was getting anxious and Curly still had yet to find out. Just there mere thought of Brumley coming up with a way to betray the Shepard Gang put Curly in a bag. He had a lot to sell and it would be damn near impossible to sell it in a week. He needed a partner, he thought of Connie, she was pretty and she could sell fast especially with having connections outside of Tulsa. But he couldn't trust that she'd take the supply and sell it all herself, leaving Curly with nothing and absolutely fucked.
"When do you guys think Tiber is gonna know we took their connection?" Ed asked.
"Fuck.." Curly said, he leaned against the hard wall and looked over Ed and Christopher. "Any day now. And don't go nowhere without your blades."
Around 9 that night, Curly nervously stood on the corner in a town that wasn't familiar to him. The breeze blew him around alittle as he carried the product on his back waiting for another chicano to show him how to sell it. Jose had put him into contact with some of his amigos from prison. The neighborhood was overwhelming to be in, he was surrounded by large magnificent buildings, just being here in thirty minutes was more than Curly had seen in a lifetime.
"You Jose's kin?" A voice asked.
He was Mexican, short, pudgy. He looked like those real Chicanos you find over in LA. Curly only dressed like that if it was a family gathering, the police would have a payday seeing him walk around like that. He wondered if he was actually from LA, the business was booming and he wouldn't be surprised if his Tios wanted to make a business move over there.
"And you are?" Curly asked.
"I'm who you're looking for. C'mon." He said while motioning his head.
Curly followed him but kept his hand on his blade. He could win this fight easily, as long as he could get him on the ground. Curly also took notice of his surroundings, Tim would always tell him "Pay attention to where you are" he'd never know when he needed to abort a job quick.
The Chicano stopped at an outside vendor that hadn't been opened yet, it stood on the side of the street, it reminded Curly of the rare time he visited New York to visit distant family. "The fuck are we doing here?"
"This is where you'll be pushing your product. Ain't like dope, you gotta do things officially...It's the only way to do it. Imagine a nice gringo coming down the street and seeing a chicano with a backpack on the corner. You'll be in cuffs within 2 minutes."
"What the fuck do I look like selling dust out of a vendor?"
The guy rolled his eyes. "You wanna sell it right? 'Sides, it's Thursday. Everyone knows it's angel night."
Curly grumbled and trudged into the vendor. Within hours, he had gotten the hang of the labor and he came to the realization that he'd never be able to actually do this work. He hated the way the customers looked at him, like he was nothing but scum on the side of the road. They even treated him like that, like he had to attend to their needs when they wanted it. That was one perk about being a Shepard, you got treated like fucking royalty.
"Can I get a hot dog with a side of Angel fruit?"
"Ang-. Oh. Yeah, it'll be a few seconds." Curly replied.
Curly put the hotdog on the grill and grabbed a brown paper bag. He reached under the grill to grab one of the prescription bottles, he looked to make sure it had everything and shoved it in the bag. He made the hotdog and added it to the bag, his eyes meeting his customer. They didn't look the type to buy cocaine from a vendor, they looked like a teacher or an attorney.
"It'll be 22.00."
The man looked around before handing over 25 dollars, grabbing the bag and hurrying off without his change. Curly noticed his outfit, he was dressed real nice, better than the socs even, how ironic that rich guys could buy coke from a hotdog vendor but poor greasers couldn't even walk down the street without being harassed by pigs. The system was fucked.
The chicano came to collect Curly around 10 o clock that night. Business was still moving but it was starting to get pushy and people wanted their drugs. The chicano stood watching Curly as he cleaned the grill and gathered his items. He had a long way back to Tulsa, and he'd be lucky if Tiber didn't jump him on the way home. The only comforting thought was that he had more money to ask Daisy on another date, he sure did miss that vanilla perfume and her pink lips.
"Damn ese. You're a natural at this."
"Guess I am." Curly said while packing his bag.
"Coming back?" The Chicano asked while leaning against the side of the vendor.
"Only til the product is sold out. I'm making this a one time thing."
The Chicano chuckled loudly at Curly's statement, lightly shaking his head. "It ain't gonna be just once." He says with a scary tone.
Curly lightly pulled the skin on his lip as he felt the chill in his body. He grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder, looking the Chicano up and down. For the first time that night Curly noticed he had an ugly scar under his eye.
"Night ese."
"Good luck, Shepard." the Chicano said, but it felt like a warning.
Curly didn't reply, he kept walking until he reached the stop and counted his profit in his bag. He debated on keeping $20, there's no way Jose would know and it wasn't as if he did any work. Jose had boys to sell his product, he was a lazy dealer. Curly wondered if his tio's would ever start a war with Jose, he didn't have much going, especially because he just got out of Prison, but taking him down before he became a threat seemed like the better option.
Curly was never sure if he liked Friday's. He liked school believe it or not, and the weekend always held so much promise. But it was always unpredictable. Curly watched as Brumley showed up, clean, classy, and smooth like always. Curly bit on his bottom lip as he analyzed them, Angela did the same thing when she was thinking. Like the Shepard Gang, Brumley didn't let just anyone have a spot in the gang.
"Where's the fire?" Curly joked.
He smoked on his cigarette, inhale, exhale.
Curly stared at the Brumley boys and they looked back at him. He wondered if they were just as curious as him about the other. They were business partners and just that, the groups would never know about the other's personal life, it was bad for business. If Willy ever found out about Daisy and him, he'd be fucked high and dry. He knew it was a risk but he wasn't letting those soft lips get away from him that fast. There wasn't much Willy could do, but if Brumley found it in their power to have a say so then they would,
Willy stood on the right, leaning against the locker. His small afro was shaped nicely and growing. Curly had a strange feeling of power, it felt good knowing something the other didn't.
"What the fuck do you guys want with the coke?" Curly asked suddenly.
"We want it off our hands." Chuck said cooly. "You're helping us make a big problem go away."
Curly blew out his smoke in their direction and in some cases it would be considered disrespect. But Brumley knew just as well as Curly that the appearance of looking tough was far more important.
"So that's it? No money? No nothing?"
Chuck shrugged, a light smile playing on his face. "We don't want no money we want it gone. How's it coming."
He couldn't put a finger on it but he knew that Brumley was up to something. The thought of giving pure cocaine away and not having anything in return was preposterous. Curly needed ears, Daisy would be good ears and Connie would make a good one too. He'd have to think on it, talk to Connie again as much as he didn't want to. He was going to figure out what they were up to, a war with Brumley and Tiber's would set them back far.
"Bueno. Good."
"Then I guess we're good." Chuck smiled.
"Guess so.."