Crazy Summer (12 page)

“How can I help ya?” the guard finally asked.

I’m pickin’ up Rodney McKey,” Danté said with a cocky attitude.

The officer nodded, turned, and went back inside the booth. Danté posted up against his car, waiting with his arms folded and looking around from behind a dark pair of Versace shades. No more than twenty minutes later, Rodney appeared on the other side of the fence. The officer opened the walk-thru gate for him. He was dressed in state-issued khaki pants, hard-bottom shoes, and a sky blue button-up shirt. His skin was mahogany and smooth as a baby’s ass. His groomed hair had waves and was cut low. Rodney stood six-one, and from what Danté could see he was ripped with muscles.

“Damn, nigga, you must’ve been eatin’ da weights instead of liftin’ dem muthafuckas.”

Rodney laughed and they embraced.

“I’m glad you home, nigga,” Danté said.

“You!” Rodney was definitely excited. “Bruh, I been waitin’ almost five years.”

Danté looked at his attire and remembered how he wore almost the same thing when he came home from boot camp. “I got clothes in da car. Some real playa’ shit.” 

Rodney walked around to the passenger’s side and got in. After Danté got in on his side, he looked at Rodney before actually pulling off.

“Summa supposed to be inviting a few friends ova’ fo’ da cookout.”

“What cookout?” he asked while brushing his hair and looking in the visor mirror. Then he glanced over at Danté and said, “I’m ready to get to da money.” 

Clutching a small remote for his system, Danté pressed a button, and within seconds, the sounds of Tupac’s
Thug Life
CD filled the atmosphere. Their heads nodded in unison.

“I gotcha, nigga. Jus’ chill.”

Rodney reclined his seat and looked out the tinted window as they exited the prison parking lot. “I’ma change clothes at da Hardees up da street,” he said, wanting to get away from that place as quickly as possible.

They rode away with “Straight Ballin’” on repeat.

A green Acura Legend pulled up in front of Summer’s house and parked. Three females stepped out. Tonya, a friend of Ann and Summer’s, was driving. They knew her from the salon; she was a regular customer who came through once a week. She wore a lavender linen sundress with a split on each side and three-inch matching heels. Her toenails and fingernails were painted red. Her two friends, Angel and Carma, were both in school at Paine College. Angel was from Kentucky, and Carma was from Decatur Georgia. They were well dressed, also, and just came because Tonya had asked them to come.

Before they could ring the doorbell, three more cars pulled up. One of those cars belonged to Ann. There were three more women with her. Another car behind them was a dark blue convertible 64 Chevy with a booming system. This was Cam, who was alone in his car, but his crew was behind him in a box Chevy. Before long, there were nearly twelve cars at the house.

Summer had started the grill and brought their house system in the backyard. Ann prepared mixed drinks behind a large wood-finished wet bar. After taking a pull of her cigarette, she sat it back in the ashtray. The smoke streamed in her face, but it didn’t bother her. She pulled out a half gallon of Hennessy and filled the blender, along with strawberries, chopped bananas, ice, and some different flavored wine coolers. She’d thought about adding some Moet. She was out there now, feeling good herself. This was the way to live, a way of life…or hers anyway.

Summer had over twenty pounds of jumbo shrimp in the sink that had been peeled and sliced in the center. She seasoned them with salt and pepper and drowned them in lemon juice and barbecue sauce. They would marinate for the next thirty minutes and then be placed on the grill.

Cam came through the glass patio door and called Summer’s name. She looked at him from the sink. He had a surprised look on his face.

“Whazzup up?” she asked.

“It’s a white dude out here wit’ a new Lexus on a flatbed.”

“And what am I supposed to do?”

“He said dis is da address he supposed to be dropping it off at.”

Summer didn’t know anything about a new car, but since Danté wasn’t home, she had to go see what was going on. She walked through the house and out the front door. The driver had the flatbed parked at the end of the driveway and was already in motion unloading it. The driver was a fat white guy with a stomach so huge that it looked as if he had a small baby underneath his denim overall suit. He studied Summer as she approached him and extended his huge hand, which Summer shook.

“How ya doin’?” he said. “I’m delivering a car fo’…” He looked at the name on a small piece of paper and then looked at Summer again. “…Rodney McKey.”

She smiled and knew Danté had bought her brother a car. “Park it around back,” she told him. “The fence is open on the right.”

“The delivery fee is forty-six dollars.’”

She nodded and went inside. Upstairs in the master bedroom, she removed two twenty-dollar bills and a ten from the dresser drawer. When she got back downstairs, the fat delivery guy was pulling the Lexus around the side, while two guys who Summer didn’t know were holding the gate open, Cam was directing the driver, guiding him with his left arm. The fat guy parked the Lexus in the center of the lawn, got out, removed a small ribbon from the trunk, and stuck it on the hood using two strips of masking tape. The keys were left in the ignition. Summer gave the fat guy the money, and he left with a four-dollar tip. Of course, Danté would have given him more.

*****

Rodney glanced around at the car’s interior that was peanut-butter brown and extremely soft underneath his fingertips.

“Man dis a hard-ass car, my nigga,” he said, smiling.

Danté rode silently for several seconds before he glanced over at Rodney and replied, “Dis my baby, bruh.”

“I got to have me one,” Rodney said.

The cell phone rang, and Danté answered. It was Summer; she sounded excited upon hearing Rodney’s voice in the background. When Danté asked her if someone had delivered his “package”, she told him yes. Speaking in code, he told her to put it under the cover; he wanted to surprise his road dawg. Then Danté handed Rodney the phone.

“Whuzzup, lil’ mama?” he asked.

“Jus’ chillin’ and shit. Sippin’ on some Henny.”

“Hey, Rodney!” a voice shouted in the background.

“Who was that?” he asked excitedly.

“There’s a few friends over here.”

“Put da best lookin’ one on da phone.”

“Ain’t gonna get in the middle of that. Everybody here already saw yo’ pictures. My friend Ann already talkin’ ‘bout you like…you know.”

He laughed, remembering he’d talked to Ann a few times when he called the salon collect trying to catch Danté, who told him plain and simple she wasn’t cute but that her ass was fat to death.

He looked at Danté and asked, “How long we got before we get there?”

“Tell her ‘bout thirty minutes.”

“We’ll be there in thirty minutes,” he told Summer, then asked, “You talk to Mama today?”

“Yeah, she doin’ alright.”

“I’ma stop by there first.”

“Alright. Tell Danté I’ma start grillin’,” she replied before ending the call.

Danté was pushing seventy down a tree-lined country road with the music on low. They drove for a few minutes without saying anything to one another. Then Rodney finally broke the silence between the two.

“Whuzzup wit’ da carwash.”

“I ain’t really had time to get it started. Da license is in both our names, though.”

“You bullshittin’.”

“Dats on everything. All we gotta do is get it runnin’.”

“You ever thought about fuckin’ wit’ da music?” Rodney asked.

Danté shrugged. “Not really. I jus’ try to stay afloat in the streets. You know dem sucka-ass niggas be hatin’ and shit. Dem bitches be tryna count a nigga’s money. I been ridin’ solo fo’ a minute.”

“What kind of money you sittin’ on?”

Danté grinned, took his eyes away from the road for a few seconds, and glanced at Rodney. “Straight up. You wanna know?”

“Damn right, nigga.”

“‘Bout two sixty.”

“Two hundred and sixty thousand!” Rodney responded excitedly, then added, “Now that’s the type of money I’m tryna touch.”

“You will,” Danté uttered. “Trust me.”

When Danté pulled up in his driveway, Summer came out the front door. Rodney didn’t even get a chance to step out before she rushed him. He eased from the passenger seat, and she jumped into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. They hugged for a while before she finally released him.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him through the front door.

The music blared through the house. This was Rodney’s moment, and he was nervous for a minute. He felt stares from the unknown females that sat around drinking. As Summer introduced her brother to everybody in the living room, Danté came through the door holding two bottles of Cristal champagne. He handed one to Rodney and kept one for himself. Rodney examined the gold bottle as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Open dat shit, partna,” Danté told him, smiling. He then went toward the kitchen, and Rodney followed him.

Summer checked her watch and saw that it was time for her to go get the twins from school. Summer walked into the kitchen, where Ann was rolling a blunt at the counter.

“You see him?” Summer whispered while standing next to her.

After sealing the blunt with her thick, moist lips, she looked over at Summer and responded coldly, “I don’t chase no nigga.” 

Summer shrugged. “I’ma go get da twins. You gonna ride wit’ me?”

“I might as well,” she said, then added, “I don’t wanna get out of character.” 

Ann lit the blunt as they walked through the patio door, leaving an exotic marijuana scent behind. They went over to where Danté and Rodney stood with a few others men. Rodney sipped his champagne straight from the bottle while staring directly at Ann body. She had outstanding wide hips and a huge ass that had to be looked at more than twice.

Holding the blunt between her manicured nails, Ann’s eyes drifted toward Rodney. She caught him staring and turned toward Summer.

“We’ll be right back,” Summer told Danté.

“Where y’all goin’?” Rodney asked, looking straight into Ann’s eyes now.

“We goin’ to get da twins.”