“Netta, help! Come here! Oh, my God! Netta, come here. Call an ambulance,” Mimi yelled, running through the house.
Her cries shattered the peace and quiet of this tranquil Saturday afternoon. Groggily, Netta arose from her sleep and hit the floor running. Still dressed in her nightgown, she flew down the stairs towards the screams that could be heard through the house. It was Timmy, he was hysterical, his screams weren’t normal they were agonizing to the ears. When she reached the kitchen, she saw Mimi holding Lil Timmy in her arms, rocking him back and forth in a feeble attempt to calm him down.
“Oh, my God,” Netta said, staring down at Mimi and the tiny toddler she was holding.
“Help, call 911,” Mimi SAID.
Netta didn’t have to ask what happened. Now that she was there in the kitchen, it was self-explanatory. She saw the scattered remains of an accident. An empty hot grease cup and its contents were spilt over the floor next to the table. Burned French fries and hot grease still popped on the unattended stove.
No, he didn’t spill hot grease on himself. Tell me this ain’t happening, Netta thought, cutting off the stove and retrieving the phone to call 91, all in the same split second.
“He…he… I was getting something out the refrigerator and he was in his walker. He must have thought the cup was filled with Kool-Aid. He grabbed it and spilt it all over himself,” Mimi said, with tears streaming down her face as she continued rocking Lil Timmy.
Netta rushed into action grabbing a tray of ice out the freezer, wrapping ice cubes in a dish towel, and answering a hundred questions to a 911 operator, all with Timmy screaming at the top of his lungs. Finished with 911, she took Timmy from Mimi and applied the ice to the burned area of his chest. Lil Timmy was having one terrible time, hollering and screaming at the top of his lungs. A small portion of his skin on the left side of his chest had suffered third-degree burns and his skin was burned away to his baby flesh. He kicked and squirmed as the coldness of the ice numbed the pain. After a minute or two, his screaming turned to crying. Taking control of the situation, Netta called Mimi’s mother at work.
John Hopkins University Hospital was where the baby was taken. It was world renowned for its state-of-the-art medical procedures and advanced techniques. And fortunately for Timmy, the wound wasn’t as bad as it sounded or looked. It turned out to be second-degree burns and not third. In time, it would heal. The doctor said that being that the accident happened while he was still young, the burn mark would fade as he grew up, possibly to the point where it would be mistaken for a birthmark. It wouldn’t be so grotesque once he healed, and in the years to come, it’d be possibly unnoticeable.
The doctor washed and dressed his wounds having Mimi watch carefully, so she could do the same. Then the ER doctor gave Mimi a prescription for the pain medication he could take as a liquid and some antibiotic cream she would need to apply two times daily for the next two weeks.
Mimi felt so guilty, she couldn’t even be happy that it wasn’t that bad. The doctor told her over and over that it could have been much worse had the grease fallen on Lil’ Timmy’s face instead of his chest. Thinking of what could have happened didn’t ease the guilt, however, Mimi was thankful her baby would be okay.
Visibly shaken, Mimi never stopped crying. She was so hurt for her little boy and feeling so guilty, she couldn’t hold back the tears.
“Mimi, accidents happen. This could have happened to anybody. You, me or your mother,” Netta said, consoling her friend.
“Then, why me?” Mimi asked, breaking down with harder tears. “He’s going to hate me for this when he grows up.”
“No, no he’s not,” Netta assured her. “In a few months, he’ll be healed, and all this will be forgotten.” She wrapped her arms around Mimi’s neck and hugged her, patting her back, telling her it would be okay.
In the aftermath of the incident, Mimi and Netta grew closer. During that time, Netta noticed a few things about her friend. She was very sensitive, she suffered from low self-esteem, and as beautiful as she was, mentally, she was weak. Forces outside herself always determined her happiness. That summed up Mimi in a nutshell, past being beautiful.
Netta thought, in light of the accident, Mimi’s maternal instinct would have kicked in overdrive, allowing her to bond more with Lil’ Timmy but it didn’t. Instead, for some strange reason, after the accident Mimi shied away from her son, basically, handing over her motherly responsibilities to her own mother. It was Tina who grew closer to Lil Timmy, nursing him back to health while Mimi reverted back to her old ways.
Looking for love in all the wrong places, Mimi hit the clubs with a vengeance. Netta, being the friend she was, was right there with her making sure she didn’t do anything stupid. This was a low point for Mimi. She needed some type of release and the clubs seemed to be the place for it. The parties, the weed and the liquor all seemed to dull her pain, allowing a temporary escape. But, it was here in the clubs that her past came back to haunt her. She ran into Twan one night at the Paradox.
“Bitch, what the fuck you done did to my son. Ya yellow ass should be home now with him, instead out here hoeing!” Twan barked angrily.
More than anything he was mad at the fact she was in the club and looking good. He couldn’t have her and that was the bigger problem, more than his son’s misfortunate accident. Not to mention, she was standing there looking cute as hell and would be cuttin’ up any minute, but not with him.
“Twan, get the fuck outta my face with that dumb shit! It was an accident,” she said furiously. “Nigga, you got some nerve! When the fuck you gonna start being a father? Well, when you do, that’s then you can tell me how to be a mother!”
She got that one off her chest, then turned and walked away heated. Bitch ass nigga, she said to herself as she walked along. Right then, Mimi made up her mind to fix Twan for trying to play her out in public and she knew just how to do it.
After dropping Netta, off, she stayed in the car with Boo, another big-time hustler from East Baltimore’s LaFayette Projects who just so happened to be one of Twan’s main rivals. Mimi knew all about their beef with one another. She went with him and had sex with him, doing it only to spite Twan, knowing word would get back to him. Thinking that this would hurt him, she never realized that besides a somewhat bruised ego, Twan really didn’t care. He washed his hands of Mimi and the baby a long time ago.
The next day, Mimi recounted her sexual escapade, blow-by-blow to Netta, who listened to every detail and description Mimi fed her.
“He ain’t hit you off with no dough?” Netta asked, puzzled by Mimi’s story of revenge.
“It wasn’t like that. I ain’t crack for no cash. I fucked him to get back at Twan,” she said, looking at Netta wondering why she didn’t get it.
Mimi didn’t need money; she had family that took care of her. She wanted for nothing, so it wasn’t all about that with Boo. She was on some other shit.
“You mean to tell me you let that nigga Boo hit it just cause you wanted some get back?” she asked, looking at Mimi as if she were crazy.
“Yeah,” answered Mimi.
“Listen, I’m not gay or nothing like that, but, um, you ain’t no ugly bitch. So, fucking you should be a privilege. A paid privilege! Niggas is dying to get with you, so you should make them take care of you,” Netta said, wanting her to see her mistake.
“Netta, you talk the talk but you ain’t never been fucked yet,” Mimi stated bluntly.
“Sho, you right, but when I do, I’ma get mines. You best believe a nigga fucking me, gonna play his part,” Netta said, meaning every word from the bottom of her heart.
Then and there, the seed was planted and a scheme was hatched. Later on, as time passed, and the future would present itself, Netta would show Mimi better than she could tell her how to handle a hustler.
And sure enough as the sun shines and the moon glows, a money-green Mercedes Benz E55 AMG slowly came to a stop right in front of Netta, who was standing at the bus stop on her way home from school. The driver of the vehicle was named Major. He was well-built, brown-skinned and a “getting money” motherfucker from Park Heights. Major was attractive in a thuggish sort of way. Fortunately for him, by ghetto standards, his AMG made that nigga a real handsome motherfucker. Lowering his passenger side window, he leaned over in the seat to holla at Netta.
“Excuse me, miss with the slim waist and the pretty face, you need a ride?” he asked, cool like whip, giving her ass the wrist as he questioned her, all while singling her out from the rest of her comrades.
Netta frowned, her face giving him the ‘you talking to me’ look. Persistent as ever, Major tried his hand again.
“Shorty, what’s the deal, you wanna ride or what? Four wheels beats two heels, baby,” he said with a smile.
That comment brought a smile to her, matching his. Netta was tickled. This big ass nigga, in this big ass car, broke the ice. However, she didn’t want to appear pressed.
“How I know you ain’t no rapist or murderer or something?” she shot back.
Now, it was his turn to be amused.
“Come on now, I may be a lot of things, but a rapist I’m not. Do I look that bad to you that I got to take some pussy?” he asked.
“Naw,” she answered. “But looks can be deceiving.”
“You know what? We can hold this discussion while we ride, for real, yo.”
Finally, Netta relented and got inside the car. She liked a man with a sense of humor, and more importantly, she liked a man with money. She wasn’t about to deal with no broke ass nigga. She had decided that shit a long time ago.
Think big, Netta, think big and hold out for all, she always told herself.
And Major was large. That nigga had so much cash, Sylvester would say, “Sufferin’ succotash!”
Major had it going on with his hustle, his looks, his car and his bling-bling. Everything about the nigga represented. But, Netta had something much more valuable in her possession: her pussy.
Major turned out to be Netta’s first boyfriend, but there was no question who wore the pants in the relationship. Netta did and she wore them well, playing her part to a tee. She had him wrapped around her pinky finger. She started trying him, asking for little things like small amounts of cash and gradually working her way up from leather coats to jewelry. Then, she cracked on him for something way bigger and more expensive. She cracked on him for a car. Even though she didn’t know how to drive yet, she wanted a car and she got Major to agree to get her one once she learned how to drive. It didn’t take Netta much to convince him to teach her how to drive either. Netta learned the mechanics of auto operation quickly. Within two weeks of learning how to drive, she had her learner’s permit. He was doing all this, and she still hadn’t hit him off with some pussy.
She built up his anticipation with mental foreplay. A kiss here and a touch there. After a while, that had him begging for it, sweating her, all over her, ignoring her ‘stops’ and ‘no’s,’ which for him was unusual. Major was a major hustler; he was on ‘big boy’ time and had ‘big boy’ status. The way that his pockets were holdin’ made women simply spread their legs. He had so much pussy coming at him, the shit was overrated and not too many men would agree with him. However, he had so much pussy open for him, he could honestly do without it.
Now, what he did need was a challenge and Netta was it. When she told him she was a virgin, that shit only heightened his expectations of the sexual act and Netta had him open. The fact that she wasn’t like the other broads, giving him brain and letting him do whatever, made it a sport for him. A game he had to win. The challenge and the sport of it, for a nigga getting dough, was the rush for Major and that’s what was different about Netta to him. And, not to mention, she was still a virgin.
After three months of waiting, Netta finally gave him some and it was too good for him to handle. Major ejaculated prematurely, over and over again. He’d never been with a virgin in his life, and he was 23-years-old. He couldn’t believe his luck; she wasn’t lying. Netta knew she had a bomb shot too, and after he broke her in, she threw it on him. Lust blinded Major, and he didn’t realize that the sex she was giving up coincided with him buying her the car.
Catering to all her whims, Major caved into this one too. Netta was his wifey, he reasoned with himself. If she wanted a car, then she should have one. So, he hit her off. He bought her a little red Honda Prelude fresh off the lot. The car was fully loaded, with shiny rims, a system and tints. This was the perfect car for a female since it was so compact and easy to handle. With this gift, Netta learned a valuable lesson. One she would draw on later in life, which was that, a woman could lead a man around like a dog on a chain because men think with their little head and not their big one.
Having already let her into his heart, Major let Netta into his world as well. He exposed her to the drug game. Street wise and eager to learn, Netta made a good student. Her memory was photographic; everything she saw, she remembered. He taught her how to cut coke, then he taught her how to cut dope. She learned how to weigh drugs on the scales and bag it up. Major would have her baggin’ up coke for hours and hours at a time. Eventually, she could look at a package and weight it buy sight. Major taught her that too. More importantly to her, she got a glimpse of how much money he was making. Netta had severely underestimated Major’s hustling abilities. He was that nigga.
The whole time Netta was seeing Major, her relationship with Mimi suffered. She tried to manage her time between her man and her friend, but it was hard. Mimi was demanding, even though she was happy for her girl. They still spent quality time together. Every night, they shared the same room, and as usual, the girls would cut off the light switch. In the dark, they’d tell their secrets to one another until they fell asleep. They vowed that no man would ever come between them.
Secretly, however, Mimi was jealous. She was envious of the things Major was doing for Netta. She never let it show though. That’s because Netta was so humble and sharing. She taught Mimi how to drive and she continued to school her on the game, the do’s and don’ts. Netta was surprised at how naïve Mimi really was to the game. With her father and her brothers in the game, she was supposed to know certain things by now that she didn’t. She was supposed to know how to work niggas and peep game. No man was supposed to be able to run game on her, but that wasn’t the case. It seemed nobody ever bothered to pull her coat. Use what you got to get what you want was the theme Netta echoed to her.
Heavily influenced by Netta, Mimi got a car, too. Although, hers came from a much more conventional source: her dad. She pressured him into buying it. The same make and model as Netta’s, just a different color. It was all good with Netta. She was happy for Mimi, happy they both were riding.
Juggling school, Major and Mimi, Netta still got good grades and she would still graduate on time. School was easy for Netta, but hard for Mimi. Mimi’s interest in school began to dwindle her junior year. Partying became more important than education. Mimi was so close to graduating, but yet so far. A couple of times, she contemplated dropping out of school, but each time Netta talked her out of it.
“Mimi, you’ll never accomplish nothing in life if you quit school. Once you get that diploma, they can’t ever take that from you. So many doors will be open to you and your son will respect you more,” said Netta seriously, hoping her words motivated her friend to stay in school, cause her heart definitely wasn’t there.
As her relationship with Major began to get serious, Netta had a tough decision to make. She was debating upon taking Major up on his offer to move in with him. It had been weeks since he first asked, and he was still applying pressure. However, after serious deliberation on her part, Netta rejected the idea. Out of respect for Mimi’s mother, she didn’t move out. Besides that, she liked the home environment there and she was comfortable.
Graduating from high school was the first meaningful thing, other than surviving, that Netta accomplished in her life. She was proud of herself, even though she didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life or what the future held for her. Having come so far against so many obstacles was an achievement in itself.
The day of Netta’s graduation was bittersweet. She woke up, looked out the window and realized her Honda was gone; it has been stolen. And while she was surrounded on this festive day by all the people she loved, including Tina, Mimi, Lil’ Timmy and Major, there was a person not amongst her happy group. Talk about surprise, surprise. An hour later, her mother, Renee showed up looking half decent. Renee, the only outsider in Netta’s circle, sat in the audience alone. Netta barely recognized her mother and barely remembered sliding an invitation under her door. Just being courteous, she never expected Renee to stop shooting dope long enough to show up. Still, there she was, looking out of place. They kept in contact over the past few years, sparingly. Communicating just enough to let the other know they were alive. Netta buried the hatchet somewhat after she moved in with Tina and Mimi. She still couldn’t totally forget all the things her mother had done to her, nor would those things ever be justified in her eyes. However, the past was the past and Netta intended to leave it there. Sometimes it is better to let bygones be bygones. In order to mature, she had to live in the present. Her mother would always be her mother. No one can pick their family, only their friends.
Netta beamed as she walked up on stage to receive her diploma. This was her day. As she shook the principal’s hand and received her diploma, she looked out in the audience and saw her loved ones. Everyone was clapping and cheering her on. Ms. Tina was busy snapping her camera as Netta stood next to the principal and gave a big Eddie Murphy smile for the flash. Everybody was clapping and smiling ready to go out and celebrate.
Downtown at Fisherman’s Wharf Restaurant, they ate and drank champagne toasting Netta’s success. However, Renee was distant and noticeably withdrawn from the group. For the life of her, Netta couldn’t figure what was wrong, but she soon came to find out. As the evening ended, the group split in two, each walking to their separate cars. Before parting, Mimi and Tina took turns embracing Netta goodbye. Ms. Tina looked as if she had tears in her eyes.
“Netta, we are all so proud of you, sweetheart,” Tina said joyfully.
“I know, Netta, you did it,” Mimi said, with tears of joy running down her cheeks.
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, looking at Ms. Tina, then Mimi. “I love you so much. Thank you for everything. Thank you so much.”
With everybody feeling sentimental, they hugged and kissed some more, exchanging pleasantries. Parting ways, Netta promised them she’d be home tomorrow. Tonight, however would be spent with Major.
Netta jumped into the car where her mother and Major awaited. She was dropping her mother off and then spending a night of celebration with her baby at a fancy hotel. Or, at least, that’s what she thought.