Holding A Dope Boy Down: A Dope Love Story
By CoCo Shawnde
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Holding A Dope Boy Down - CoCo Shawnde
1
Currenci
St. Louis coldest summer
Year of 12’
D o not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
The preacher quoted, with his view being a thick page bible.
Amen.
The gathering of people said all together.
With my mother keeping hold of my hand, I knew she was clutching onto her .38 that was tucked in her purse. With my right hand wrapped with hers, my left was holding my .22. At thirteen, and knowing the grim reapers always come when you least expect, my mother prepared us for the worse this morning. Being warned that hosting a funeral was the last of what my mother should do, she refused not to send her first born son home the way she felt fit. Due to him being taken away way too soon, you would think his enemies would let us put him to rest peacefully. The protection we needed and would need for the rest of our lives spoke on just how predominant Twan was in the New York streets. Even with us moving to the Midwest to escape troubles, it followed like a stray dog searching for its next meal.
While everyone´s head had been bowed, my eyes were glued to the gold casket before me. With three rows of chairs lined behind me, I couldn’t tell you who was among my brother´s burial. Zoned out, in my heart I knew I was better off dead than being left here without Twan.
Rat-a-tat-tat-tat
The second I lowered my head to dry a tear before my mother saw, bullets were blasting off from a Crown Vic speeding past. The weight of my mother pushed me to the ground before I could take cover myself. My eyes had been on the shooters, until I was knocked out of the chair.
"Everyone get downnnn!!!"
CURRENCI!!!!!
My mother was laid on top, clutching me by my neck with shaking hands.
Mommaaaa.
I said as loud as I could, but it came out as a low whisper. When she started to cough, and blood started jumping out her mouth, I hollered out as she painted my espresso skin tone with blood. Squirming under my mother, she was far from out of shape, but she was stacked in all the right places, restricting me from moving. With my head tilted back, I watched as our own blood family ran over our bodies, just to get out of the cross fire. The roaring of the thunder cracked through the skies, bringing on a heavy rain that couldn’t had been predicted.
Currenci…
My mother´s voice was low now and her non-stop choking seemed to get worse. She was no longer screaming, and her movements were less. Her deadweight on my teenage body nailed me to the grass.
Mom...Please, don’t leave me like this.
I said, looking into her eyes as she fought to breath. Her eyes fluttered, and her body was jerking slightly as she fought not to leave me in this world all alone. Breath, momma...You all I got.
I-I-can’t...You have to...know your worth-we-when it comes to your hustle. Where you come from an-and what made you. Don’t ever forget. I lov-uh-love-
MOM!!
I screamed, clenching my eyes, so I didn’t have to see her taking her last breath. It was just a week ago I had to watch my brother´s soul leave his body while he sat in his old school drop top, and now my mother was leaving me to venture through life with no guidance. Mommmmmm!
I cried, holding her tightly as tears rushed down. Letting my mother go was of no option. The tighter I kept her in my embrace, the more I believed God would bring her back to me.
2
Dime
Dreams to nightmares
M y birthday coming up! So, I get my car right, daddy?
I asked, sitting at the dining room table, reading a book my father just picked up from the library for me.
Birthday? I ain’t even know.
he said joking with me as he always did. Cracking up laughing, I was too amped to let him forget about my sweet sixteen! Not wanting a party, a car was all I wanted.
Daddeeeee!
I whined, not caring that I was fifteen years old, and calling him like I was a child.
Dough, you did say you would get her a car.
My stepmom Stacie told him, switching over to hand him the only plate in the house that she allowed him to use when he broke down the dirty heroine.
Stacie had been around since before I was ten, and she wasn’t going anywhere no time soon. With her raising me as her own, my birth mother Krystal was out doing her own thing. When my father Dough brought her to our home, I took to her immediately. My mother hated it, but she did nothing to try to come see me more. Stacie did more than she ever had to for me, from the very beginning, and sometimes more than my dad. I couldn’t blame my father because he did his best, and though this was a drug house, we called it home.
Like now, my father had me cut the porch light out, so the fiends would know we wasn’t operating at this moment. He would always cut the light off when I was reading at the table, or we was eating dinner. When he wasn’t home, Stacie was in charge to get the light on, and she would take care of me and the buyers at the door. Despite what anybody could say, I felt I had everything a fifteen-year old could ask for. I was my father´s only child, so naturally I was spoiled as such.
I did, huh? You still trying to join the Charger gang?
he asked, while all you heard was the knife breaking through the product, and clinking against the glass dinner plate.
Yes, dad! My grades were all good this year!
Showing him my report card that had just came through the mail, he looked at it, and gave me a head nod. My father was well over six feet, mixed with Dominican, and had hair down to his waist. Tattoos was covering every inch of his arms and chest. My favorite tattoo had to be my name on the right side of his neck.
She been doing her thang. She couldn’t get no better than an A plus on her finals,
Stacie added, giving me a wink, letting me know she had my back.
We´ll see...keep up the good work. You know you the Golden Child.
he said, flashing me his grill as he smiled.
What bout’ me!?
Asked Stacie´s daughter, that I couldn’t stand sometimes. She was my age, and she always had her two cents to throw in when I was talking to MY daddy. I couldn’t wait until Stacie dropped her off with her father, and I didn’t have to be bothered with her. She didn’t live here because her father didn’t approve of his child living in a trap house, and Stacie didn’t fight it because she knew she was here because of my father. Stacie didn’t approve either, but chose to stay until my father moved up. Which is why she didn’t force her daughter to live here. With me, it all worked out. I didn’t know another way of living and was content in the hood. It was always something to do, and if my father didn’t have some money, all it took was a crackhead to come knocking and he would have it!
Daughter, you know you´re special too.
Stacie told her, kissing her head.
Rolling my eyes, I went back to reading my book. Every so often, I would listen to Stacie and my father converse. For the most part, they didn’t argue in front of me, but I could tell Stacie was getting fed up about something. Since me and her daughter was here, she didn’t go off like she wanted. I didn’t know what the two was going back and forth about, but all I could see was my father trying to keep her calm as he bagged up the drugs that would be gone by morning.
My father didn’t hide nothing he did from me, and I even helped Stacie in the kitchen when it was time to cook up the drugs. My father didn’t work with a team of nigga’s, and he always said Stacie was his number one on his team. They worked hand in hand, so we could eventually move in the big house on the hill. Man, I couldn’t wait for it, but until then, I would appreciate having my parents here.
It’s getting late. Y’all call it a night.
My father said, sending me and Stacie´s daughter away. We both got up, knowing that was code that they were about to have company over. Slow footing it to the room we shared, I had no plans of doing nothing but reading my book.
You going to the Teen Club?
Stacie´s daughter asked, looking through her overnight bag.
You talking about sneaking out?
I asked with raised brows.
Yeah, girl! They about to drink, smoke, and kick it all night! Why can’t we? We almost sixteen.
she said, looking at me like I was the dumb one.
I’m cool on that. I’ll let you in through the window.
I told her, plopping down on my bed. As she got ready, I watched her put on her colored skinny jeans, Ed Hardy shirt, and matching shoes. Sticking my nose in my book, I didn’t bother to respond to her telling me bye as she jumped out the window. All I did was close it and slap in my ear plugs. My father had the stereo loud in the front room, and I needed something to block out all that noise.
Somewhere between chapter two and three, I dozed off. Hearing rocks at the window, I jumped up to open it.
Girl! You should have came! They was fighting-
And shooting! What’s new?
I asked her, not knowing why she was so hype. I went to the Teen Club when my dad would allow, but I wasn’t thirsty like she was. It was always action there, and nothing new.
You so lame. They come back here?
She asked, already out her clothes, and in the twin bed on the other side of the room.
Nah.
I said getting up. Sticking my feet in my house shoes, I left out the room to get me something to drink. As I was walking down the hall, I could see Stacie moving her ass all over my father’s lap as they both smoked a blunt. The house was full of people shooting dice, vibing to the Meek Mill Dreams and Nightmares, smoking, and drinking.
Heeyyyy, baby girl. What you doing up?
Stacie asked, meeting me at the end of the hall.
Water.
I answered, seeing she was most likely high and drunk. She tried sobering up, but she was too far gone. I watched my father go to the door, and serve a fiend right in my face.
Hurry back to bed, Dime.
Stacie said, giving me a single kiss on my cheek. Soon as her hand left the side of my face, my uncles flew in the house.
The laws!!!!
They yelled, storming in.
Shitt!
Stacie cursed, and we all got to moving things around, and cutting the music off. Within the next ten minutes, it was hard knocks at the door.
Dime, get that. You know what to say.
he said, ducked off behind the door. Nodding my head, I went to the door.
Who is it?
I asked smartly, even though my heart was racing.
Bellefontaine Police. Open up.
they said from the porch. Looking at my father, his eyes were pleading with me right now that I got the laws away from the house. Swallowing hard, I opened up the door. Is your parents home? We received a call of a disturbance.
Oh, no they´re at work.
I answered.
Work? Can you get them on the phone? Are you home alone?
they implored.
I’m old enough to be home by myself. If it's the music, I can simply turn it down.
I said right back.
How old are you?
they continued.
I’m almost sixteen. I can stay at home by myself.
I told them with my smart mouth.
What’s your name young lady?
They now questioned. Pinching my lips together, I froze for a few seconds. Name?
Dime Matthew’s.
I answered. They went on to get my birthday, then told me to keep the noise level down. When I shut the door, everyone in the house let out a deep sigh.
Thanks baby girl.
My father said, kissing my forehead. I went to the kitchen, and I went to pour me some water as I listened in on Stacie talking to my dad. Before I could get my cup, I had to kill three roaches in my way that were racing around the cabinet.
Dough, can you take it serious now? Why would they come to the house?
she said to him while they stood in the corner.
Stace, you tripping. If I slow up, how the fuck am I supposed to move you and the girls out of here? Stop coming with that stupid shit.
he snapped, walking to get the bottle he left on the counter. My father was pissed off, and the company he had over knew it was time for them to go. Stacie had went into her bedroom where my father eventually went. I was in my bed tossing and turning. I could hear them fussing until the knocking of their headboard could be heard, followed up