Promise Broken, page 6
Promise kept her eyes glued to the ground as she slipped into the store. She could feel the stares of the boys who sold drugs outside the store watching her. One of them made a “pssst” sound, but she never lifted her head. She kept moving. When she emerged from the store the boys were busy vying for the attention of a drug addict who was undecided on how much he was willing to spend. Promise was able to slip past them without going through another round of “Baby, what’s yo name?”
As she was trying to get away from the boys on the corner, a figure coming across the street caught her attention. He was light-skinned and wore his hair in neat dreads that he mostly rocked braided back into two plaits. He seemed to glide as his long legs carried him across the street. The way the boys on the corner welcomed him, Promise knew that he carried some measure of respect in the neighborhood. Promise had been crushing on him since before she had come to live with Dell. She would see him sometimes in the summers when her mom would bring her over to visit. Though she liked him she never had the courage to approach him. He was a part of the in-crowd and she wasn’t. Besides, guys like him didn’t go for girls like Promise. At least not according to her aunt.
When she had first come to stay with Aunt Dell things were okay. Adelle was no stranger, as Promise had spent a lot of time at her aunt’s house before living there. That’s how she already knew Mouse. They would hang out together whenever Promise came over. Aunt Dell had never been a walk in the park, but she had never been cruel. Sour? Maybe, but never cruel. Her attitude seemed to change once Promise became her responsibility. What Promise never really grasped was that Adelle resented her because of the lingering jealousies she still felt toward her late sister, Fatima. Fatima was always the child showered with love, while Adelle was the workhorse of the house. Whenever she saw Promise, she saw Fatima and some of the old resentments resurfaced.
It would trip Promise out how her aunt could slip between the many faces she wore with such ease. She would sit in front of the social worker with her knock-off pearls and fake church lady persona raving about how much of a joy it had been to have her only niece in her care. As soon as she was granted custody of Promise and the checks started coming she became a whole different person. That’s when she showed her true, bigoted self.
Just about everyone in Promise’s family were different shades of chocolate, courtesy of their West African roots. Because of the treatment Adelle had received growing up in Nigeria and parts of the South, before settling in New Jersey, she was distrustful of fair-skinned Black people. Her twisted thinking when it came to people of the fairer persuasion put Promise very high on her shit list. She was the lightest in the house, but still dubbed the “Black Sheep” and they made sure to remind her of it quite often.
Adelle also became physically abusive toward Promise. The hitting Promise could live with, but it was the emotional abuse that ate at her spirit. Adelle had at least a half dozen names that she addressed Promise by, none of which was the one her mother had given her. This was part of the reason Promise had started to gain weight. She found that snacking was one of the only things that relieved her stress. Adelle loved to tell Promise how ugly she was and how no one could ever love a mutt bitch like her. This is why when Promise heard someone behind her say, “Hey beautiful,” she didn’t bother to turn around. There was no way they could be talking to her.
CHAPTER 7
It was 10:00 a.m. when Asher finally stirred. Generally, he woke up with the sun but occasionally allowed himself to sleep in. The night before had been a wild one. He’d only planned on staying at B-Stone’s party for a few hours, but it was well after 2:00 a.m. when he staggered into his modest apartment. Everybody from the hood was there. Dudes Asher hadn’t seen in years had come out to celebrate. B-Stone had drawn quite a crowd, but that was to be expected. He was the boss.
Asher swung his long legs over the edge of the bed. He felt a little woozy from all the shots he’d consumed. His mouth watered like he was going to throw up, but, eh, he held it. When the wave of dizziness finally passed, Asher stood and stretched. His fingertips almost tickled the ceiling of his bedroom.
Asher was a tall, lanky cat who probably could’ve gotten somewhere with basketball. He was pretty good at it, but unfortunately, he was better at hustling. From the time he had made his first hundred dollars on the block, everything else took a backseat—including basketball. He figured why wait years with no guarantees that he would go pro when he could start working on building his fortune now?
Soft snoring drew his attention. Tangled in the sheets was a shapely brown-skinned young woman. Although her name escaped him, Asher bagged her at B-Stone’s party and ended up back at her place in Elizabeth. Asher only lived a few blocks from the bar, but there was no way in hell that he was taking her there. His mom wouldn’t have said anything about him bringing a girl in the house, but his current girlfriend Ruby might’ve had an opinion about it. He’d made the mistake of trying to slip a girl into his place once before, thinking Ruby wouldn’t find out and it had almost cost the girl and Asher their lives. Ruby caught Asher walking the girl to her car and started shooting. She didn’t ask any questions, nor did she wait for him to try and explain. She just upped her pistol and started blowing. The only thing that saved them was two of the homies, who had been on the block, were able to wrestle Ruby down and take the gun from her. Ruby eventually forgave Asher, like she always did, but he knew from that incident not to test her. From then on when he did his dirt it was always outside the hood.
There was no sense in waking the girl, since he no longer had the dire desire to engage in conversation. Asher was weird like that. Once he had bedded a girl they no longer held his interests. They became like white noise to him. He often wondered if the shift in his brain was due to some inherited genetic defect that he had been unaware of. Talking about mental illness was taboo in his house, as it was in many Black households. The only person that hadn’t yet bored him was Ruby. Not only was she a beast in the bedroom, but she was exciting to be around. Sure, she was a little on the crazy side but that was part of what drew Asher to her.
He was slipping into his sneakers when he heard the girl stir. She sat up, head wrapped in a scarf and all the makeup from the night before. She looked like a different person. She was still cute without all the bells and whistles, but hardly what he remembered leaving the bar with. “Witchcraft,” he said to himself.
“Huh?” the girl asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Nothing, sweetheart. I was saying that I was sorry if I woke you up,” Asher lied.
“It’s okay. I gotta make breakfast for my kids anyway. They’re probably starving,” the girl said, sliding out of bed.
“Kids?” Asher had a bewildered look on his face. He looked around the bedroom and wasn’t sure how he had missed the toys scattered on the floor the night before.
“Boy, stop playing. Remember I told you that I had four kids? You said you loved kids and even asked if we could all go to the park today,” the girl reminded him.
How much did I have to drink last night? “Well, um . . . that may have to wait until another time. I gotta go do something for my mom. I’ll call you later,” he said, making hurried steps toward the exit.
“But wait, you don’t even have my number!” she called after him. He answered the question by slamming the door behind him.
* * *
Asher made it back to the hood in decent enough time. It was still early. The locals hadn’t quite begun to stir yet, but some of the diehard hustlers were already out trying to get their day jump-started. This made Asher feel guilty because he was usually amongst the first who were up and out on the strip. Pussy should never come over money. The fact that I’m laid up with this broad instead of getting to it definitely means I’m losing a step.
He parked his mother’s car in her usual spot in the back of their complex. He took a quick sniff of his clothes. He smelled like weed, sex, and liquor . . . in no particular order. He needed to take his ass upstairs and get in the shower, but he decided to check the temperature on the block first. If the fish were biting he needed to cast his reel.
Asher only lived two blocks from the strip where he and his crew sold drugs, so it didn’t take him long to make it from the crib to the Trap. It was mostly the younger dudes who were out. Just about everybody from his team who was of drinking age had been at B-Stone’s party, and would likely still be hungover as he had been. While he was making his way across the street to greet his people, a fair-skinned chick came out of the liquor store. For an instant their eyes connected, but she quickly turned away and went to look at the ground in front of her. Asher had seen her in the neighborhood but usually she was with the little chick they called Mouse, or her big-mouthed cousin Brianna so he had never had a chance to press her and see where her head was at. This was the perfect opportunity.
As to not seem too thirsty, Asher took a minute to stop and greet the young dudes who were posted up in front of the store. He let her make it about a block or so before he slipped off after her.
“Hey, beautiful!” he called after her.
Her steps stuttered, but she didn’t stop. Asher increased his pace and caught up with her. “You don’t hear me talking to you?” he said as he reached out and touched her arm, causing Promise to whirl in a fighting stance. “My fault!” He raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you, just trying to pay you a compliment.”
Promise hesitated, putting her fist down. “Thanks,” she said sheepishly, lowering her eyes.
“Why do you do that?” Asher said.
“What?” Promise asked.
“Avoid making eye contact with people.”
Promise shrugged.
“Well you shouldn’t,” he tilted her head so that she was looking at him. “Eye contact lets people know you’re serious about what you’re saying. Besides that, you have beautiful eyes.”
The touch of his skin against hers made Promise quiver a bit. She could smell what she thought might’ve been pussy on his fingers, but her brain didn’t register it. Even if it had she wouldn’t have cared, so long as he didn’t stop touching her. He was the charmer and she was the snake, swaying in time with the notes he was playing with his imaginary flute.
“I’m Asher.” He introduced himself, breaking her out of her trance.
“I know.”
“I think the correct response would’ve been for you to tell me your name too.” Asher teased her, which made her eyes go to the floor again. “Didn’t we just talk about that?”
“Sorry.” She looked up at him. “Promise.”
“Promise what? I didn’t ask you for anything,” Asher joked. He knew her name already.
“My name . . . it’s Promise.”
Asher paused as if he was contemplating something. “Beautiful eyes, beautiful name, and a beautiful girl. You’re three for three, shorty.”
“You got a lot of game.” Promise chuckled. She was star-struck by Asher, but not naive.
“Why does it have to be game instead of a guy just paying you a compliment? I’m sure you get them a lot?”
“Not really.” She shrugged.
“Then I must be the only man in the world who isn’t walking around blind.” Asher capped. “I could stand here and praise you all day long, but I’d much rather do it over dinner.”
“I’m not allowed to date,” Promise admitted, slightly embarrassed. Most girls her age had already started dating. Even Brianna was allowed to have guy friends, but not Promise. Adelle kept her under lock and key.
“That’s a crying shame. That just means when I wanna see you I’ll have to climb up to your bedroom window like Romeo or some shit, huh?” he joked.
“You don’t even know where I live,” Promise told him.
“Nah, but it’s a small neighborhood so I’m sure I can find out. All I have to do is ask where the girl with the pretty eyes stays.” Asher smiled.
He noticed Promise’s cheeks were turning bright red and figured he was wearing her down. “Listen, I can understand you get a set of rules you need to live by so I ain’t gonna put no pressure on you. If you decide you wanna break the rules one of these days you can usually find me up on the corner by the liquor store, or in the courtyard behind the tall building on Broad Street. You know the one?” Although he knew Ruby hangs out there, Asher said this confidently, with no hesitation.
Promise nodded.
“Good, well I’ll see you around, pretty eyes.” He stroked her cheek affectionately before turning and leaving. He didn’t have to turn around to know that he would find her there still watching him.
Promise stood there for a few minutes. She wanted her heart to slow down before she could move. All the blood had rushed to her head, making her dizzy. Asher really tried to get at me. Something as simple as a boy trying to get familiar might’ve been a small thing to most girls, but to Promise it was something magical. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel ugly. She couldn’t wait to tell Mouse and Keys about what had just happened.
* * *
“You don’t let nothing slide, do you?” Calico started when Asher rejoined the boys in front of the store. He was leaning against the wall of the liquor store giving his friend an amused smirk. Calico, or Cal, was Asher’s partner in crime. His given name was Calvin, but they called him Calico, like the cat, because he suffered from vitiligo. It was a condition that caused his pigment cells to malfunction and resulted in his skin being splotched with spots that were lighter than the rest of his toffee-colored complexion. Cal was a year younger than Asher but carried himself like a man who had been on Earth far longer. A young dude who had been around the game all of his young life.
“You know how to play, baby,” Asher said confidently.
“I didn’t know you were into big girls, Ash,” remarked one of the young boys who had been standing around.
“Clearly you don’t know the difference between big and thick,” Asher corrected him. “Shorty a little on the meaty side, but she’s pretty as hell. Get that bitch in a gym for a few weeks and all you niggas would be trying to holla.”
“Ain’t you playing that kind of close?” Cal asked his friend. He was referring to the risk of Ruby seeing him with the girl and going off the rails again. Everybody knew how her crazy ass played.
Asher shrugged it off. “Yeah, I’d thought about it, but Promise barely comes outside. I’m not too worried about her and Ruby crossing paths. And if I do decide to crack I’ll dick her down good enough to where she’ll know to keep her mouth closed or risk not getting this dick no more.”
“You think your dick solves every problem, don’t you?” Cal shook his head at his friend’s arrogance.
“Only the important ones.” Asher laughed.
“I hear you talking, pimp. I hope you do end up cracking the big body joint. When you do, put in a good word for me with her friend, the little one,” Cal suggested.
“Who you talking about? Mouse?” Asher gave Cal a comical look. “Man, that bitch always running around looking dusty. I know you not that hard up.”
“I don’t give a fuck. I heard she got a million-dollar mouth on her!” Cal declared. “You was off spitting at the chick from Elizabeth when Ab was giving the rundown on how she sucked him off by the park.”
Asher shook his head. “Ab will put his dick anywhere.”
“According to him, she’s top five, dead or alive. I’ll dunk that ho in the shower and give her a spin.” Cal laughed.
While the boys were talking, Phyllis the junkie came shambling up to them. She was one of those fiends that could get you just about anything you wanted if the price was right: clothes, kitchen appliances, toiletries. She was a one-stop-shop in the hood and all the corner boys fucked with her heavy. Phyllis was one of the only addicts that could get drugs on credit and you knew she was good for it. She would pay you back in cash or merchandise, but she didn’t carry debts. She didn’t have her usual booster’s bag with her, so they all knew it would be one of those days when she came around asking for credit.
“What’s up, fellas? Who up?” Phyllis greeted them. She was walking slightly hunched over and there was moisture around her nose. She hadn’t had her wake-up fix and the sickness was almost on her.
Asher hadn’t had a chance to pick up any drugs yet, so he deferred the sale to Cal. “You know I got what you need.” He peeled himself off the wall to serve her.
“I’m a little light right now, but once I get myself together and hit the streets I’ll come back around with what I owe you.” Phyllis was straight up about it.
“You know I know where to find you,” Cal assured her, pressing a small package of heroin into her palm.
“My man!” Phyllis slapped him on the back with one hand and stuffed the dope into her bra with the other. “So, I hear y’all did it big for B-Stone last night?”
“I didn’t stay too long. There were too many random niggas in there for me. Too hard to tell who was an opp and who wasn’t,” Calico told her. Unlike Asher who lived to be the center of attention, Cal was more reserved and liked to play the background.
“Yeah, a few different hoods came out. Everybody was so busy partying, that nobody had their ears to the street. That’s why I’m sure none of you know that they’ve let a weasel back into the hen-house.” Phyllis revealed.
