CHAPTER 3
Thotsicle
That afternoon, once the Sister Day salon appointment was complete, Dru and Alita began the drive to pick up Leno from basketball practice. They pulled up outside the facility, a moderate-size brick building connected to the high school. By the look of things, it appeared that the team was just finishing up. Numerous young men still wearing their jersey-and-shorts uniforms drifted onto the sidewalk in small groups. Alita strained her neck to see if Leno had emerged from the front entrance.
Leno was zoned to a Houston high school that had a high percentage of Hispanics and blacks. The school definitely wasn’t known for its academic superiority; Alita could only pray that her child (1) got a decent enough education that would help him throughout his life; (2) left school every day without getting into trouble, or being hassled to join a gang; and (3) continue playing ball good enough to qualify for the professional leagues.
After waiting quite a few minutes with no sign of her son, Alita groaned and sat back in her seat. “Damn. This happens every time. Leno’s always got to be the first one there before practice officially starts and the last one to leave.”
“Sounds like he’s dedicated to his craft and is getting ready for the NBA. He could be the next Steph Curry.”
A far-off look formed in Alita’s eyes. Wouldn’t it be amazing if her son made it as a superstar athlete? Even college hoops would be nice. She could only hope that good things would happen for Leno. Then reality settled in.
“I dunno, Sis,” Alita muttered. “I just want my son to do the best he can right here in this school and keep his grades up. He’s doing all right as a junior, but they’ve only had a few tests so far. And if he keeps on top of his studies, then he may get a full scholarship and I won’t have to come out of my pocket. Because I already know that Leonard Washington will not chip in two cents toward Leno’s college funds.”
“Wow, is he that bad? Doesn’t Leonard make good money selling cars?”
“I guess. He lies all day long trying to get people to buy whatever car is sitting on the lot. And he’s got a PhD in lying so, yeah, I’m sure Leonard is making bread and honey.”
Dru laughed. “Alita, I think you’re still upset because he convinced you to be with him. And maybe that wasn’t what you really wanted to do at the time.”
“Can we change the subject?” Alita said. “I think I see my baby.”
Alita watched her son take his sweet time walking out of the building. At sixteen, Leno was already six foot three and there was no telling how many more inches he’d grow. He resembled Ralph Tresvant from the group New Edition: dreamy eyes, slight mustache, and an amazing talking voice, as well as charm for days. Leno’s lightweight headphones were stuck in his ears; no doubt he was listening to the latest from Drake, his favorite.
As he traipsed down the sidewalk, Leno was surrounded by six girls, three on each side of him and all of them jockeying for position. Whatever music Leno was listening to was no competition for a captive audience of beautiful, smiling, energetic young ladies. It appeared that his clique was laughing it up and having a rowdy good time. The girls were of various shapes, ages, and heights. All of their hairstyles were long enough to sit on, or they wore Ghana braids, kinky twists, or Senegalese twists. The girls sported cling-fitting shirts and short shorts that displayed their thick hips and pretty legs. One girl ran and jumped directly in Leno’s path. She stopped, stuck her butt out so far he had no choice but to see it. She whooped and hollered like she was singing the lyrics to a song, then she began wiggling her butt cheeks up and down real fast. Leno stopped walking. He stared and smiled, licking his lips and nodding as he carefully observed the teasing dance that she performed especially for him. All of her braids were dyed various vibrant colors, and she resembled a dancing peacock.
When she pulled up her shirt and exposed her breasts, then hopped around like a Zulu dancer, Alita couldn’t bear to watch any longer. “C’mon on, Dru. Time to run some interference.”
Dru hurriedly got out of her car. Alita marched up to her son, who faced all the girls as they clustered in a semicircle.
By then the dancing girl had sense enough to lower her shirt. But Leno’s eyes had turned glassy, still mesmerized by the bouncing, wild movements of her lush behind. Alita waited a few seconds, then gave Leno a forceful tap on his back.
He slowly turned around, eyes widened, then darkened.
“Um, hey, Mama. I’ll be with you in a sec. I’m just finishing up.”
“Finishing up what?” Alita asked. “Wasting time with these little strippers?”
A chick with purple hair and pouty purple lips rolled her eyes at Alita. Alita raised her arm up and pulled it back, ready to swing. Dru quickly stopped her. “Alita, please. Give my nephew a few more minutes. He’s not doing anything wrong. Let him be a kid.”
“That’s the problem,” Alita snapped. “I don’t want my son out here messing around with these girls, doing shit he has no business doing, and he ends up with babies he don’t need or can’t afford.”
Now all the girls rolled their eyes at Alita. The girl with the big booty said, “Who dis old-ass bitch? Do we know her?”
Dru gasped. She snatched her sister’s arm and dragged her to her vehicle, a few yards away from Leno. She popped open the locks of her door, and they sat inside the car to wait.
“Alita, I know that’s your son and you can raise him how you see fit, but I really think you need to watch your negative words. He still has feelings.”
“Mmm hmm! He has a penis too. And a big one at that.”
“Really? And how would you know that?”
Alita ignored her. “My point is that these fast-ass girls can smell the money coming. Future rich baby daddy is what all of ’em are thinking. They’re not thinking about their own careers. Leno tells me how these chicks offer to do his homework for him. Write his essays. And I think even before the school semester gets started, they’ve lined up to earn their spot with him. And their goal is to one day put their nasty mouths on my son’s dick. Give him something he can feel.”
“Oh, Alita, please. They’re just kids. You’re exaggerating.”
“Is this exaggerating?” Alita reached inside her purse and pulled out an unopened black-and-gold condom packet.
“This,” she exclaimed, “isn’t mine.”
Dru’s eyes enlarged. “Oh, okay.”
“I found it in his backpack. My little boy thinks he’s a man, but fucking at sixteen is no game.”
“Wow,” Dru said. “I mean, he is at that age where he may want to experiment. I’m sure there are middle schoolers out here having sex. Even Coco got started early.”
“And look how bad things turned out for her,” Alita exclaimed.
“Just because he’s talking to a few girls doesn’t mean he’s having sex. He practices his drills very hard every day, he obviously goes to his classes, but the boy needs a social life too.”
“Are you serious, Drucilla Reeves? So a teenage sex life is now considered a damned social life?”
Dru seemed frustrated, not wanting Alita to misunderstand. “No, I’m saying Leno needs to be around girls and boys. He needs to be well-rounded.”
“Look, I don’t give a damn about that, Dru,” Alita complained. “Fuck meeting girls on the Gram and Facebook and Snapchat, and all these other sites where these kids be lurking. I’m thinking of Leno’s future. I don’t want him to be like his dad and end up a lying-ass car salesman. I want Leno to make some real money, enough money to help him buy land, invest his money, and do something good with it besides buying the latest Air Jordans and a BMW or a Hummer. That is so played out, and I don’t want my son to be caught up in stupid shit like some of these other boys. Leno has the chance to do big things and make enough money to get us the hell out of the neighborhood we live in. But if he gets distracted messing around with these whorish little thotsicles . . .”
“Excuse me! What did you say?”
“That’s what they call them. Those hoes over there. And look at ’em. They’re so young; they must learn this behavior from their mamas. I wouldn’t be surprised if their mamas are a bunch of hoes too.”
“Alita, are you serious?” Dru was aghast. She hated labels and seeing anyone paint a group of people with the same broad stroke of a paintbrush. “Be fair, Sis. Do you personally know any of these girls?”
“Nope!”
“Do you have a hidden cameras in their bedrooms to know what they’re doing every night?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” Alita said.
“Then why would you call these girls hoes when you don’t know anything about them, Alita?”
“Hello! I have two eyes. I know how girls can be sneaky and very skillful at getting a boy to do what they want. Plus, if these girls weren’t hoes, their tits and asses wouldn’t be hanging out, and they wouldn’t be all up in Leno’s face dropping it like it’s hot and twerking like there’s no tomorrow.”
“Oh, really?” Dru sounded doubtful. “Tell me, Alita, what should the girls be doing?”
“They should be somewhere at their house helping their parents out, doing chores, or working at a part-time job trying to make their own money instead of working hard to get Leno’s.” She paused. “Girl, do you know that some girls tried to send Leno naked photos of themselves?”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yes, Dru. When I get a sneaky feeling that my son is up to no good, I still look through his little cell phone because, one, he’s a minor, two, I pay the bills, and three, I stay on his ass because I am concerned about him the way a good mother should be.”
“As long as you respect his privacy, I don’t see anything wrong with that,” Dru told her.
“A minor that I gave birth to won’t get privacy, Dru. I’m telling you. This is why some parents were sooo shocked when they found out their little teenage sons were in the garage learning how to put together home-made bombs. These innocent-faced little boys be surfing the net and reading up on domestic terrorist shit. The dumb-ass parents knew nothing and suspected nothing . . . all because they wanted to give the kid some space. Fuck space. The sure way to raise a felon is to not be involved with your kid’s life and know what they are doing. Because the second you turn your back or close your eyes, that’s the second they’re getting into trouble.”
“Okay, I stand corrected. Obviously there’s more to parenting than what I thought,” Dru solemnly told her. “But what about these nude photos?”
Alita took a deep breath then continued. “I was in his room picking up his laundry, ’cause God knows when he’d notice something like dirty laundry and actually pick ’em up and put ’em in the washing machine. So one night when he was taking his shower, I’m standing there in his room trying to hurry up and sort through his clothes when I hear his phone buzzing like crazy. So thinking something urgent might be going on, I pick up the phone and I see a whole bunch of texts, like five or six of ’em, with photos attached. And I couldn’t help myself. I clicked on them. And yep, this chick, she couldn’t have been any more than fourteen, she is butt-ass naked, vagina all out like it ain’t about nothing. Dru, I actually screamed and dropped that fucking cell phone like it was on fire. I ran into the bathroom, yanked back that shower curtain, and nearly beat the shit out of him.”
“Oh, Alita, I can’t believe you did that. Wait, yes, I can. Anyway, what did Leno say? Who was the girl?”
“Some chick he met online. That’s another thing. He has no business going online trying to meet anybody.”
“Oh, my God!”
“I know.”
“But, Lita, what if Leno never asked her to send the photos? She could have been the instigator. Is that his fault?”
“Hell, yeah, it’s his fault. And later that night, I went back into his phone. And Leno replied back to her, Dru. He looked and did not delete! Why not? Why is he keeping the pictures?”
“You have a good point. And I don’t know why he’d leave a paper trail.”
“Exactly, Dru. This shit is serious. It’s scary. I don’t want my son getting in no type of sex tape drama, sex photo drama, none of that. If this girl gets caught they’ll see every person she sent those texts to. And these kids are sleeping with their teachers now. High school, middle school. And child predators are everywhere. Church! Boy Scouts! Chat rooms! And even the damned Waffle House! And a lot of this shit has been linked to social media and cell phones. Teachers letting kids contact them through Facebook. It’s ridiculous. Anybody that shows too much interest in my son is on my watch list. So anyway, after I confronted him about the pictures, I’m fussing and cussing at Leno wondering why this chick is taking nude selfies and sending ’em to my son. Like, where are her parents? Why don’t they know what she’s doing? Anyway, I had to make that boy stop his long-ass shower, I thumped his ass a few times, and we sat down and I ended up having a serious talk with him. One of those talks that you never ever want to have with the child you give birth to. But that’s the way of the world, and we needed to talk about how one bad decision can ruin your life. After I was done it grieved my spirit so bad that I wanted to go drink some gin and juice just to forget about all of it.”
Dru was flabbergasted. “Alita, I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this.”
Alita paused. “You ain’t the only one who’s sorry. Some days it’s just too much. And I-I wish I could talk to Leonard about it, but he never seems to give a fuck. That’s what I get for getting caught up. Never again.”
It seemed like after a very long time Leno finally made his way to Dru’s car. He grabbed the door handle, hopped in the seat behind Dru, and playfully bopped her on the head.
“Hi, Auntie Dru.”
“Hey, nephew. You smell like sweat. And you’re messing up my vanilla air freshener.”
He sniffed under his arms. “Sorry.”
She laughed. “Just teasing. How was practice?”
“I did my usual. And I’m getting better.”
“Great,” Dru said. “I’ll have to come out to one of your games once the season starts.”
“That would be tight.”
Alita scowled at her son. “If you don’t stay focused on your studies and stay on your game, you may not even qualify to be on the main squad. They might bench you son.”
“What?” Dru replied. “Are you saying what you think, or are you talking what you know?”
“Yeah, I want to know that too.” Leno spoke up. “Where you hear that from, Mama, ’cause I haven’t heard that rumor. You been talking to Coach?”
“Don’t question me, Leno. Just be ready when I come and pick you up. You saw me waiting for you, yet you act like I’m the chauffeur or something.”
“I will have a chauffeur one day,” he said with a smile.
“You ain’t gon’ have nothing if you keep letting folks distract you. I swear to God. I won’t let you make me have a nervous breakdown. Let’s go, Dru.”
Dru obediently started the engine.
“Mama, what you talking about, don’t question you? Seems like you got an attitude with me—again.”
“Let me see your phone.” Alita reached in the back seat and unfolded her hand.
“Mama, not that again. Damn.”
“Stop the car, Dru. Stop it now.”
“Alita,” Dru protested.
“Do it,” Alita screamed.
The first chance Dru got, she drove until she came to an empty parking space next to a curb. They had been riding along a major street, and traffic was moving in both directions.
“You, Mr. Know It All, can get the fuck out. Since you disrespecting me as if I’m some girl off the street, you can find your own way back to the house.”
“Alita?” Dru said, looking bewildered. “It is that serious?”
“Yes, it is. I won’t have this little boy talking to me any kind of way. In that basketball practice, they teach these kids the rules of play. They let them know what happens when the ball goes out of bounds. Right now, Leno has crossed some lines he shouldn’t be crossing, and as long as he’s living under my roof, there will be consequences on and off the court.”
Leno remained in his seat and defiantly stared out the window.
Alita folded her arms across her chest. “I’m going to count to ten, and by the time I’m done, your little ass better be out this car.”
He gave her more stony silence.
“Did you fucking hear me, boy? Seven, eight, nine, ten. I said get out.”
Looking alarmed, Leno pleaded in earnest. “Mama, please don’t do this. I-I’m sorry all right? I didn’t mean to disrespect you.”
“That’s what you said the last time you got smart with me. Now get out.”
“But Mama—”
“Out, Leno. I’m not playing with you.”
The boy remained glued to his seat for a couple of seconds. But then he shook his head in frustration and in a fit of boiling anger, he yanked at the door handle and got out of the car. He simply walked away, leaving the rear door wide open.
“Leno,” Alita screamed. “Why’d you get out on that side of the car? Get your ass back here and close the damned door.”
The sudden noise of screeching tires made her stop yelling.
Dru looked out the window. A car that had been driving in the right lane came dangerously close to taking off her door. The driver angrily blasted his horn as he sped past.
“You might as well get out and close the door, Dru.”
“No!” she said. “You’re the cause of all this, you get up and close my door.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because this time you’re the one who’s out of line.”
Alita huffed in anger. She jumped out ran around to the rear of the car. She watched her son, curiously observed the back of him as he walked in the middle of the median that divided the street. He bounced his ball and hung his head down, looking sullen.
As she stared at Leno, a painful lump formed in Alita’s throat. He’d gotten so tall lately that he towered over her by seven inches. The realization was staggering. She remembered when Leno was so pint-sized that she could easily carry him in her arms, holding him sideways like he was a football. She changed his diapers, taught him the alphabet, read to him as best she could. Now he had a fresh mouth and challenged her rules. Whatever happened to the sweet, polite young man she’d raised?
Alita watched Leno; the sound of him bouncing his basketball was monotonous. And it grew quieter as he edged away from his mother. She loved him so very much that it hurt her to have any distance from him.
Alita stepped into the street.
“I love you, son, don’t you realize that?”
She screamed loud enough for him to hear but he did not acknowledge her.
Alita returned to the car. She took her foot and slammed the car door shut. She ran to the other side, jumped in the front seat, and slammed her door too.
“Um, do you mind?” Dru said. “Why are you taking your anger out on my car? If this is how it’s going to be, you can drive your own car to pick up your own kid.”
“Look, Dru. I’m sorry. I’m stressed. Can’t you tell I’m stressed? Got a lot on my mind. I hate when I’m the parent that has to handle every issue when it comes to raising our son. Why isn’t Leonard out here helping? Why doesn’t he drive the boy to practices and pick him up? Why hasn’t he taught the boy how to tie a tie? I did not sign up to be both his mama and daddy.”
“Can you stop all the yelling and calm down, please?”
“No, I can’t. When you’re a frustrated single mother who hasn’t been fucked good in a while, and your kid is getting out of control, there is no calming down. I just can’t.”