Dirty Work: Part 1

“She went to the basketball courts.”

“Oh, I guess the game became too intense for her, huh?” he joked.

Eshon laughed. “I guess so. But you are nice with them chess pieces. How long did it take for you to play like that?”

“It’s natural, I guess. The game’s just in me.”

“I see that. You’re smart.”

Kid shrugged.

Eshon saw that he was a cute guy—smart, humorous and very charming. His only fault was his handicap. She was itching to ask him about Kip.

Kid knew how bad she had it for his older brother. It was hard for her to hide it. He wasn’t a fool. The main reason she hung around to watch him play was that she wanted to know about Kip. Besides the few words they exchanged, their conversation was mostly dry. Meanwhile, Kid’s attention and heart were on Jessica, if she ever gave him the time of day.

“You’re looking for my brother, right?” he asked.

“Is he around?”

“Haven’t seen him since this morning. I think he had to take care of some business on Long Island.”

“Oh,” Eshon uttered, looking disappointed.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

“I’m in love with him. Does he talk about me?”

“I hated that y’all two broke up. Y’all were really good together.”

His comment made her smile. If he was avoiding her question, she couldn’t tell. “He takes me for granted.”

“He takes everyone for granted. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’d do anything for him, and he knows it. I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t.” Kid said it like he could foretell the future. “Hey, let’s do each other a favor.”

She smiled. “And what’s that?”

“You put in a good word for me with Jessica, and hook me up, and I’ll make sure to speak highly of you to my brother.”

Eshon smiled down at Kid and extended her right hand. “Deal!” She loved his positive attitude. Jessica was missing out by not giving him a chance.

Seven

Kip navigated his Nissan Quest minivan through the winding roads of Long Island, New York. He entered the Great Neck area, an affluent neighborhood in northern Long Island where both sides of the street were lined with pricey homes and nice cars. The neighborhood was posh and majority white, and Kip never felt too comfortable in it.

Papa John rode shotgun, acting as his support, and the two men scoped out the homes with admiration as they made their way toward Maserati Meek’s place two miles down the road.

“These fuckin’ people live too good,” Papa John said.

“They do.”

“What you think it would feel like living out here?”

Kip chortled. “Like these white people out here would accept us into their community. We too hood for these cracker

s.”