Loyalty Amongst Thieves

Loyalty Amongst Thieves

         Jesse snorted, shaking his head.
         “What?” Lil Charles said.
         “Yo ass,” Jesse scowled at him disapprovingly. “Sittin’ here talmbout ‘colored folk in New York don’t know how to be crooks right.”
         Lil Charles made a face, shrugging, “They don’t.”
         “Fool,” Jesse leaned forward, twisting in his seat to look at his nephew, “you got any idea how you soundin’ over there?” He shook his head. “Y’all up there stealin’ shit and you gon’ turn ‘round and be surprised when them same “do dirty ass niggas” you runnin’ wit’ do you dirty? And yo’ lil’ feelin’s was hurt?” Jesse wagged a finger at him, “It’s when you say ig’nant ass shit like this I hafta remind myself you spent those years in Augusta with yo’ mama’s people when C.L. got sent down to the P-farm back in ‘36. Lawd, if they didn’t do a job on yo’ ass.” he scoffed. “Boy, ain’t no such thang as a honorable crook! They just ain’t seen nuthin’ of yours they wanna take or it ain’t worth the trouble to’em. But them fools ain’t yo’ friends. They crooks! Just like you was.”
         Lil’ Charles shook his head, “They wasn’t nuthin’ like me.”
         “I forgot,” Jesse said, waving his hands and wiggling his fingers, “you special.”
         “So what you sayin’?” Lil Charles said, “I ain’t supposed to trust you either?”
         Jesse was genuinely offended, “First of all,” he began, jabbing his finger at him, “we’s family, so it’s different. Second, we’s in bidness together. And third…,” he trailed off, unable to recall what he was going to say before snapping his fingers animatedly, “And third,” he repeated, “yo’ ass owe me money.”
         Lil Charles held up a hand, waving, “Wait, wait, wait. Whatchu mean, I owe you money? I ain’t borrow no money from you.”
         Jesse spread his hands, “Ain’t you stayin’ in my house?”
         “You just said we family!” Lil Charles sputtered.
         “But you’s a grown ass man,” Jesse corrected. “Grown man make his own way or pay as he go.”
         Lil Charles spread his arms, “Even with family?”
         “‘Specially wit’ family,” Jesse said. “Shit, you makin’ it harder for them to do for they own. So, yeah, you gotta pay.”
         Lil’ Charles snorted, rolling his eyes, “What ‘own’ you doin’ for?”
         “Well,” Jesse stuck his chest out, “It’s the principle of the thing. That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”
         “But people in your crew ain’t gotta respect the principle of the crew?” Emerson asked. “Seem kinda like that same thing.”
         “They ain’t gotta respect nuthin’,” Jesse said, “and you shouldn’t expect them to neither, ‘less you know’em.” He jabbed a finger at Lil Charles, “That shit back in New York? You know, you know better than that. You didn’t know those fools. Leastways not enough to trust’em like you did. You gotta always know who you workin’ with.”
         Lil Charles turned to look at his uncle, mouth parted as if he were about to say something in protest but appeared to catch himself. “You know what?” he said, thoughtful. “You right. I shoulda’ known better.” He nudged Emerson, patting himself on the chest. “That shit was on me.”
         “Sho’ll was,” Jesse affirmed.
         “When all this happen?” Emerson asked.
          “‘Bout six years ago,” Lil Charles said. “Early in ‘49. I went up there tryin’ to get a job in one of them canneries ‘cause I heard it was good money.”
         Emerson shrugged, mouth open. “Was it?”
         “Shit, I’on’t know,” Lil Charles said. “Never could get me one.”
         “Was that why you was…”
         “Up there doin’ shit he ain’t have no bidness doin’?” Jesse interjected, making all three laugh.
         “Yeah man,” Lil Charles said, still laughing before continuing on, shrugging. “I was broke.” He half turned to Emerson, “Believe me when I tell you, the last place you wanna be with no money in your pocket is New York City.”
         “That righ          t?”
         Lil Charles looked at Emerson, nodding emphatically.
          “Hell,” Jesse scoffed under his breath, “ain’t no place nobody wanna be broke.”
         “Plus,” Lil Charles continued, “everything cost more up there. And the people? Man, I ain’t ever seen so many people in one place. Like to be standing on top of one another.”
         “Fa real?” Emerson exclaimed, incredulous.
         “Seem like,” Lil Charles said. “So many people, and they all in a hurry. Wherever they goin’ and whatever they doin’ they doin’ it in a hurry.”
         “Speakin’ of ‘gettin somewhere in hurry’, Jesse said, “we ‘bout there yet?”
         Emerson pointed. “We comin’ up on it now, that next side road.”
         “Good,” Jesse said, shifting in his seat. “I gotta piss like a race horse.”
         Lil Charles snorted, “I swear ‘fore God, you got a bladder like a two year old. Every time I turn ‘round you talkin’ bout how bad you gotta piss.”
         “There you go,” Jesse said, dismissive. He looked out the window as the truck slowed, making the turn.
         “Next thing you know,” Lil Charles continued., “you gon’ be askin’ me to fix you a hot toddy at night so you can get to sleep.” Emerson laughed, gesturing to the property ahead of them. “Then again,” Lil Charles said, veering to the right and pulling to a stop behind a rusted out vehicle on cinder blocks, “knowin’ you? You’d just piss the bed.”
Emerson was still guffawing when they were all standing outside the vehicle, hands on his knees, eyes watering. They were all still laughing when a little girl, no more than ten approached them, plaited hair bobbing as she walked. Emerson smiled, recognition in his eyes. “Hey there,” he said, raising a beefy hand to her and waving. “Your daddy here?”
         “No sir,” she said. “But, mama is. She say when y’all done carryin’ on like y’all ain’t got no sense, you can come on out back.” With that, she turned on her heel and left, cutting through a gap in the row of hedges fronting the building.
Emerson turned to Jesse and Lil Charles, the smile on his face fading.
         “What?” Jesse asked.
         “Emerson shook his head, “I’on’t like comin’ over here when Zack ain’t ‘round,” he said, motioning for them to follow.
         “Why’s that?” Jesse said, sharing a quick look with Lil Charles as he joined them. “She can’t give us what we need ‘less he around?”
         “Huh?” Emerson said, distracted. “Oh...nah, it ain’t that. It’s just.., he trailed off.
         “What fool?” Jesse said, irritated. “Shit, you startin’ to make me nervous, the way you carryin’ on. We gon’ have a problem or sumthin?”
         “Nah,” Emerson said, “it ain’t nuthin’ like that. It’s just...hell, you’ll see.” He motioned for them to follow again.
         Jesse looked at Lil Charles, hunching his shoulders questioningly.
         “Well, we here now,” Lil Charles said. “C’mon.”
         As the pathway narrowed, Emerson took the lead, Lil Charles and Jesse falling in behind him. Rounding the building, they had to side step empty beer bottles, crushed cans and more than a few random piles of dog feces.
         “Shit!”
         Emerson and Lil Charles turned to see Jesse peering at his shoe and scraping it back and forth on the ground.
         Lil Charles frowned. “What you carryin’ on ‘bout now?”
         “I stepped in some dog shit,” Jesse said, disgusted. “Don’t these people know how to pick up after they damn dog? Shit!”
         “Quit all that damn cussin’,” a voice said from over on the porch. The speaker, a woman clothed in black overalls, stood behind a large cast iron pot sitting over an open flame. Sweat glistened from her neck, arms and cleavage. Her hands gripped a long pole she used to stir the contents of the pot which, from the way she shifted her weight as she stirred the bubbling concoction, was thick.
         “Well now,” Lil Charles said, under his breath.
         Jesse, who had been preoccupied with scraping the excrement from his shoe, followed Lil Charles gaze catching sight of the woman. “Damn!” he exclaimed, nudging his nephew. “That’s a big ass bitch right there.”
         Emerson shushed him, looking back to the porth.
         “Damn,” Jesse said, looking to the porch, ducking his head apologetically, “Sorry.”
         “That’s alright,” the woman said, still stirring, not looking their way. “You right.” She withdrew the pole, whacking it against the rim of the pot then setting it into another one, which looked to be filled with water. “I know I’m bigger’n most. Folk been tellin’ me that long as I can remember” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Don’t make no sense gettin’ all sensitive ‘bout it now.”
         The men relaxed a bit, watching the woman step from around the pot and approach them, her overalls hugging her thighs, accentuating the curve of her hips to her tapered waist and framing the swell of her breasts, which strained against the material. She stepped from the porch, making a bee line to Jesse, her eyes narrowing as she drew near, stepping so closely to him the toes of their shoes almost touched.
         “But, the only man got a right to fix his mouth to call me a bitch is my husband and he know better’n to do it less I’m actin’ like one.” She jabbed Jesse in the chest, hard. “I hear you call me one again we gon’ have a problem. Now, you try me if you wanna and I swear yo’ black ass won’t be tryin’ nuthin’ else.”
         “Aw hell,” Jesse muttered. “I said, ‘sorry’. Shit.”
         The woman lifted her right hand, a hooked blade held within it levelled at him, eye level. “And like I said, call me a bitch again and see if I don’t turn yo’ ass into one.” She watched Jesse pursed his lips, nodding, his eyes never leaving hers. She held her glare for a few seconds then turned, the knife dipping out of sight. “Hey Emerson,” she said, her eyes turning on the man, who stood there, unable to return her look. She stepped over to him, her breast bumping against the man’s chest. “How come you ain’t been ‘round to see me?”
         “Uh,” Emerson began, looking to Lil Charles nervously. “I been bus          y.”
         She widened her stance, hands on her hips. “Busy?” She threw her head back, grinning. “Busy doin’ what? Yo’ ass don’t work.”
         “Girl,” he said, frowning, but still not meeting her eyes, “you know I work.”
         “Doin’ what?” she asked, shooting Lil Charles a wink.
         “Now Dee Dee, you know damn well I drive pulpwood,” his bottom lip poked out with all the defiance of a petulant child. “Been doing the same damn job nigh on eight years now, and you know it.”
         “If you say so,” she said, turning to eye Lil Charles up and down. “Who yo’ friends?” she asked. “Don’t think I ever seen’em before.”
         Emerson gestured to his right, “Well this here Jesse…,” he began
         “Not that nigga,” she said, dismissively, not even looking in Jesse’s direction. “Who dis here?” She eyed Lil Charles up and down smiling wickedly.
         “Oh,” Emerson said, “that there Lil Charles.”
         “Lil?” Dee Dee scoffed. “Can’t say I can see anythang lil’ ‘bout this one.” She smiled,
her eyes drifting down to his crotch, lingering there for a second before turning and walking back to the porch, her buttocks rolling noticeably with each step, the overalls tight across her rear. She retrieved the pole and started stirring again, “Y’all got the money? Zack didn’t think y’all would. That’s why he ain’t here.”
         “We got it,” Lil Charles walked over to the porch, stopping at the base of the stairs. “Y’all gon’ be able to have everything ready? Saturday ain’t but fo’ days away.”
         “I know how days of the week work,” Dee Dee quipped, a tinge of irritation in her voice. “Like I said, long as you got the money, ain’t gon’ be no problem with the food.”
         “And y’all gon’ take care of serving it too, right?”
         She looked up from the pot, “Wasn’t that the deal?”
         Lil Charles nodded. “That was the deal.”
         “Well then, unless you talked to somebody other’n my husband, ain’t nuthin’ else to talk about,” she stopped stirring and looked at him pointedly. “Long as you got the money.”
         Lil Charles retrieved a folded wad of bills from his right front pocket. “Money ain’t no problem. Just wanted to be sure er’body talkin’ bout the same thing.”
         Dee Dee sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “You speak anything to Zack besides English?”
         Lil Charles frowned. “What?”
         “I said, you speak anything to my husband other’n English when y’all sat down and worked this thing out?”
         “Nawl,” Lil Charles shook his head. “Just English.”
         “Well alright then,” she said, focusing her attention back on the pot, stirring no longer looking at him.
         Lil Charles looked over his shoulder at Emerson who nodded at him. Jesse just looked at Dee Dee without saying anything. Lil Charles shrugged, “Alright,” he walked up the steps, extending the bills, “here you go.”
         “Shirley Girl!” Dee Dee barked. A large screen door opened a moment later and the girl who’d greeted them earlier stepped outside.
         “Ma’am?”
         Dee Dee gestured to Lil Charles who still held the bills, “Take that there money and put it away.” She watched her daughter take the money, “Say thank you,” she said.
         Shirley, who’d half turned away stopped, looking up at Lil Charles saying in a disinterested monotone, “Thank you,” before disappearing back inside the door, virtually invisible in the darkness of the interior of the house.
Lil Charles looked over at the pot, “What’s that you boiling?”
         “Pulled pork,” Dee Dee said. “Fixing a mess of Brunswick stew for a wedding. Still got a ways to go though.”
         Lil Charles made a face, “Damn,” he said. “Would’a liked a lil’ taste of that.”
         Emerson said, “Ain’t that part of the menu for Saturday?”
         Lil Charles shook his head, “Nawl, I ain’t know y’all made it.”
         “It ain’t on the menu,” she said, “but I know the family and they asked for it special.”
         Lil Charles nodded, smiling. “Must be good then.”
         “Everything I cook good, Sugar. Ain’t nobody tell you?”
         Lil Charles grinned. “So I hear.”
         “Emerson!” Dee Dee said, without looking. “Tell yo’ friend how good my Brunswick Stew is.” “It’s good,” Emerson said, nodding at Lil Charles.
         “Good?” Dee Dee snorted. “You won’t find none better. Not ‘round here.”
         “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” Lil Charles shrugged, since you ain’t got none handy for me to taste.”
         “I might could see clear to make a batch for y’all,” Dee Dee said. “Or you could come on back ‘round here tomorrow evenin’,” she said. “I can let you have a taste then, if you wanna be sure.”
         Lil Charles shook his head. “If Emerson say it’s good, I believe him.”
         Dee Dee shook her head, smiling, “Emerson already know how good it is. He done had plenty. You need to see for yo’self. Ain’t that right Emerson?”
         Emerson didn’t respond, choosing not to look at her.
         Dee Dee grinned at his discomfort, saying, “If you want, y’all can both stop by and I’ll see if I can’t
see to it you both get yourselves a taste. How that sound?”
         Lil Charles just looked at her, unsure if she was talking about the food or something else. “Not sure if we gonna get a chance to stop by before Saturday,” he said. “I’ll just take your word on it and try it on Saturday along with everybody else.”
         She shrugged. “Suit yo’self. But I make it special for folk who stop by,” she winked. “Got an extra lil’ kick to it. Ask Emerson. Was a time, he was here tryin’ to get hisself a taste seem like every day.”
         Lil Charles arched an eyebrow. “Is that right?”
         “Can I stop by for some too?” Jesse croaked.
         Dee Dee shot him a baleful look. “Yo’ ass’ll be lucky if I let you get any on Saturday. You damn sho’ ain’t gonn be stoppin’ yo’ ass by here for any.”
         When they were back in the truck Lil Charles couldn’t help but ask Emerson, “She always lay it on like that?”
         Emerson shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “I guess.”
         “You guess?” Lil Charles said, “I thought you said you knew these people.”
         “I do,” Emerson said. “I mean, leastways, I know Zack.”
         Lil Charles snorted, starting the engine, the truck roaring to life “What about his girl there?.”
         Emerson shook his head, “I don’t really know her that well?”
         “Say what?,” Lil Charles gave him a sideways look, shifting the car into gear, guiding the truck onto the road and beginning the drive back. “The way she was talkin’ you do know her like that.”
         “I’on’t care what she said,” Emerson grumbled.
         “Jesse,” Lil Charles said, “what you think?” When he didn’t respond, Lil Charles honked the horn, “Jesse!”
         “What?” Jesse frowned back at him as if he’d just been woken from a deep sleep.
         “Dee Dee,” Lil Charles said. “What you think ‘bout her?”
         “Oh,” Jesse shrugged, turning his attention back the the road ahead, shrugging, “I like her.”
         Lil Charles shook his head dismissively, “You would.”
         “Even after she pulled a knife on you?” Emerson asked, incredulous.
         Jesse made a face, “That gal wasn’t gonna do nuthin’.”
         Emerson scoffed.
         “Waitaminute,” Lil Charles said, smacking the steering wheel. “Is Zack the friend you told me about who wife tried to kill him?”
         Emerson nodded, “Sho’ll is.”
         “Shit,” Lil Charles smacked the steering wheel. “What he do make her wanna do that?”
         “Let his ass get caught runnin’ ‘round with another woman.” Emerson shook his head, “I tried to tell him but he didn’t wanna listen.”
         “So?” Lil Charles asked, “What she do? Shoot at him? Try’n run him over?”
         “Nawl,” Emerson said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
         “What then?” Lil Charles asked, irritated by the big man’s coyness.
         “Spill it fool!” Jesse chimed in.
         Emerson shrugged, “She waited ‘til he was takin’ a bath and came at him with a butcher knife.”
Jesse’s jaw dropped.
         “Say what?” Lil Charles wasn’t sure he’d heard him clearly. “She did what?”
         “She waited ‘til he was takin’ a bath and came at him with a butcher knife,” Emerson repeated.
         “Damn!” Lil Charles was incredulous. “She was gonna kill ol’ boy just for that?”
         “Well, that’s what he said,” Emerson clarified.
         “What she say?” Jesse asked.
         Emerson fought back another grin. “She say all she was tryin’ to do was cut his dick off.”
         “Oh, that was all?” Lil Charles clucked. “Just a lil’ snip?”
         “The hell you say,” Jesse said, eyes wide, his hands dropping protectively to his crotch.
         “That’s what she told me,” Emerson said, shrugging nonchalantly.
         “And before you even meet her,” Lil Charles said across the seat to Jesse, “you callin’ her a bitch.” He nudged          Emerson, pointing. “Didn’t I tell you this fool like livin’ dangerous?”
         Jesse shook his head, “Damn women,” he grumbled under his breath, causing the other two men
laugh loudly to Jesse’s consternation.
         “A minute ago you said you liked her,” Lil Charles laughed.
         “Not if she call herself out here tryin’ to cut off dicks!” Jesse shouted.
         It was all Lil Charles could do not to drive them off the road.