Dutch Read Free Page B

she had lost her virginity, but she also had forgotten
     the last time she went hungry. She was the talk of the town and every young hustler wanted a chance to have her on his tongue.
     If her innocence had died in the ashes of the riot, her pride, beauty, and cunning were born like the Phoenix, the bird of
     prey.
    Since Delores decided not to go back to her mother’s house, she did decide to go with the next best thing, her mother’s sister,
     Gladys, who lived on High Street. Gladys was every bit as wild as her mother was tranquil and as conniving as her mother was
     honest. She loved Delores with all the love reserved for her sister, who had rejected her.
    Her home was an after-hours spot in Brick Towers Apartments. She sold everything from wine to weed, chicken to pussy, but
     never her own.
    “Child, these niggas in the street don’t sell enough dope or pimp enough ass to buy out this gold mine I got,” she would say
     when the question came up. Not a big woman, but well proportioned and well intact for a woman in her forties, Gladys was admired
     as well as respected, and Delores took to her like a magnet. Gladys loved Delores and wasn’t about to shelter her from what
     the real world was really about. She didn’t like Delores’s decision to leave home so young. The girl still needed grooming,
     still needed a watchful eye, and Gladys was determined to mold Delores. She wanted her only niece to be resilient enough to
     survive, yet feminine enough to enjoy what God gave her. So, Gladys didn’t stop Delores from being who she wanted to be. She
     only warned her about who she could become.
    “Dee Dee, you see her over there?” asked Gladys, calling Delores by her nickname. “Not the one in the green, the one in the
     blue. Yeah, her. Honey, let me tell you, child, she was Ms. It just a few months ago ’cause she used to mess with this ol’
     fine ass nigga named Man. That nigga coulda’ had the world. He had so much money, it ain’t make no sense. He sold that horse
     up and down this block, but he went and got fucked up on his own shit. Before you know it, he robbin’, stealin’, breakin’
     in motherfuckers’ shit. Even had Ms. Ol’ It shooting that mess up her arm, and before you know it, he had her out there sellin’
     her ass, so he could get that monkey off his back. Then, he go and OD and leave Ms. It with nothin’ but a jones. Now, she
     out here trickin’ anything for chump change tryin’ to keep the shakes off.”
    Just then a lady carrying a baby with two small children following close behind walked up on the house.
    “Hi, Ms. Gladys,” said the girl.
    “Hey, baby, how you today?” asked Ms. Gladys as she and Delores sat on the porch catching a breeze.
    “I’m fine,” the girl replied, passing by.
    “Now that’s Bernadette. Smart girl, just stupid. Every decision that child make, be wrong. And every sour man she mess with
     leave her with nothing but sweet-sounding words and a belly filled up. The girl twenty-two years old and she got five kids
     and Mr. Sam said he think she pregnant again.”
    Delores learned everybody’s mistakes, through gossip. And even though she made a few of her own, her head was on straight.
     Straight enough to steer her way clear of life’s misfortunes, thanks to Gladys. Her looks and vivaciousness kept her in all
     the latest designs, but her mind kept her out of all the classic pitfalls.
    It was the end of August at the yearly summer block party when she first met him. She saw the tall jet-black brother in the
     Army-green uniform and she just knew she had him all figured out. The way he watched her, he was just like all the rest of
     the gawkers on her long list of admirers, except his suit had him at the bottom. Besides, the last time she had seen a soldier,
     Newark was a war zone. So, his first impression drew scorn instead of interest.
    Al Green, or Grits, as everyone who knew him jokingly called him, was booming out the DJ’s speakers.