Thug in Me Read Free

Calhoun only because we pretty much grew up together. When we were younger, he was always in the Springdales visiting his cousin Paul, who was two years year older than us but in a wheelchair. Paul and his mom lived right next door to me. Paul’s mother was Calhoun’s dad’s younger sister. So Paul was always running with me and Calhoun, always trying to keep up in his wheelchair. And yeah, Paul couldn’t walk but he could roll with the punches. We did all kinds of shit together, stuff that you would expect young boys to do but with a little more edge to it. If boys our age were pulling up girls’ skirts, Calhoun and I were smacking their asses after Paul rolled by in his wheelchair and pulled their skirts or dresses up. When niggas was stealing candy from the store, we thought smarter: We would sell candy for the Boy Scouts and then lie and say some bigger dudes robbed us. But instead we took the money and bought skateboards. When niggas our age played hide and go get it, we were actually getting the pussy while Paul was the lookout. A couple times, we even talked the girls into letting Paul stick a finger in their young pussy. See, Paul couldn’t fuck, something wasn’t right down there and he sure as fuck didn’t want to talk about it. Sometimes I wondered if he even had a dick; I was always too scared to ask. But he was satisfied with us getting some.
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    We ran the lot we lived in and ran the other niggas our age off. They answered to us. And yeah, Paul was in a wheelchair but he was definitely with the business. Whenever we had a disagreement, we fought it out amongst each other, Paul included. To be fair, depending on which one of us had the problem, if it was with Paul, we got on our knees so that we were the same height as his wheelchair and we got down. Whoever the winner was what they said was how it was going to be. Truthfully we all got down. I beat Calhoun’s ass, Paul and I tied, and Paul packed Calhoun out. Calhoun didn’t come around for a few days after Paul gave him a whipping. But when he did get over it and came back around, it was just like it used to be. Our relationship had its benefits. Calhoun couldn’t fight worth a damn so when he got into it with boys in the Springdales, I was always there to jump in and pack the dude Calhoun was fighting out. Paul would lean over his wheelchair and throw a couple punches in too. When I didn’t have decent shoes and clothes because my mama struggled with money, Calhoun would hook me up. Paul’s mama got Social Security for him so he always looked fresh. And Paul was nothing nice in his wheelchair, he could pop wheelies and do the same tricks we did. One day we built a skateboard ramp and Paul wasn’t even scared to jump off that shit!
    I remember one day we thought we had lost Paul for good. Calhoun and I had gone to the grocery store happy as hell because Calhoun had came to me and said he had got forty dollars in food stamps from this crackhead for only ten bucks. Before we left, we went looking for Paul but he was nowhere to be found so we went to the store without him.
    Calhoun wanted to buy liquor. I talked him out of it because I knew my mama would kick my ass. So instead we bought Hot Pockets, candy, ice cream, cupcakes (the good kind, Hostess), and bottles of Mountain Dew. We planned on eating everything with Paul.
    Once we left the store, we walked back to the Springdales, quickly and full of excitement. Funny thing was I knew why I was excited about the goodies we had but not why Calhoun was excited. Calhoun had shit like this all the time.
    As we turned to corner to the Springdales, a girl who lived in my lot rushed up to us.
    She was breathing hard and her eyes were wide. “Aye! Paul got hit by a car and I think he’s dead!”
    â€œWhat?” we screamed in unison.
    â€œThe ambulance is at the Springdales!”
    Instantly tears started falling from our eyes as we rushed