The funeral was long and grueling for the grieving relatives. Person after person got up to praise the deceased Roland Sr. for his past various deeds and work throughout the community. Finding no comfort in becoming a widow with two children to bring up in the wicked streets of Detroit, Arnita hid her face in her hands as the service concluded and they rolled her man's casket out the same church they exchanged vows at years earlier.
Climbing into the family car, dressed in a dark blue suit, Little Ro couldn't help but take notice of Ms. Jackson and her son, Deon, a.k.a. his play step brother, standing in the multitude of tearful mourners. It was rumored that Deon, unfortunately had witnessed the entire murder of Roland, Sr. who, during a jealous rage, had been cold bloodedly shot four times, thanks to one of Salena Jackson's numerous boyfriends.
When Arnita became aware of their presence, she wiped her red, puffy eyes, took a deep breath and confidently marched over to Salena while holding her Bible close to her breasts. As the stunned crowd looked on, the young widow gave the little boy a faint smile then directed her full attention to his mother, landing a well place smack across her face.
Arnita, furious, trembled with every word she began to speak to the woman through her teeth. "Not even on this one day can you respect the union of our marriage. The Bible speaks of Jezebels like you in the book of Proverbs. I never thought I'd have to come face to face with one, and especially under these circumstances."
Salena just stood there holding her stinging face as Arnita continued to spit her venom.
"You don't belong here. I don't care how you felt about my husband. You need to know that he never loved you. Never," she screamed. "I was his wife, not you. Turn around and look!" Arnita pointed to Little Ro and a crying Patrice. "Do you see my kids over there?" she angrily waved her finger. "Thanks to you they don't have a father anymore. You're nothing but a home wrecking harlot and I hope all the wives standing around here condemn you and what you stand for." Arnita shot Salena one last, long glare before saying, "May God have mercy on your soul."
With that being said, Arnita's family members ushered her to the long, dark colored sedan so they could start the lengthy procession to the cemetery, which was located across town. Each of the women in attendance, thinking that they could have easily been in the poor young widow's shoes, tightly held on to their husband's arms as they snarled, walking pass an embarrassed Salena who was still subconsciously holding the side of her face and her young son's hand.
Jezebel, tramp, and whore were some of the choice hatred filled words that the wives used to describe her as she dropped her head in disgrace.
After Roland Sr. was buried and all was said and done, and the reality of the living set in, Arnita came to find out exactly where she and her children stood. Roland Sr. had left her with several high credit card balances, one high water bill and of course the mortgage. His seventy-five hundred dollar insurance policy went mostly to burial expenses, forcing Arnita to get a job at a small factory.
"Little Ro, help me fix the eggs while I get your sister dressed to go to Auntie Bell's. I'm running late," Arnita ordered her son, who was now the man of the house.
"Not a problem, Ma."
"Oh yeah, I left that seven dollars you needed for a new gas can on the table."
"Okay, I'll get it as soon as I get finished with the eggs," Little Ro said as he began to prepare a pan of scrambled, cheese eggs. After putting plenty of eggs on two plates for his sister and mother, Little Ro scraped the last bit of scrambled eggs out the black cast iron skillet onto his plate. "I've got three yards to do today," he yelled out to his mom as he walked over to the kitchen table and sat down.
"That's good, baby!" Arnita yelled back into the kitchen to her hard working son. For the past four years since her husband's untimely death, Little Ro had assumed the role of the man of the house by taking on odd jobs in order to be able to contribute to the household.
The last four years had been harder than Arnita could have imagined. At some points, she grew so weary that she would lose hope. She even stopped attending Sunday Church Services altogether. But after being encouraged by her Auntie Bell, she would attend here and there, but she was far from being dedicated like she had been prior to her husband's death. Each day in the single mother's life caused her to change for the worse.
As the days drug by, Arnita, who'd easily gained thirty pounds over the course of the last four years and began sipping on more than just a small glass of wine with dinner, seemed to get spiteful and judgmental, blaming God for taking away her husband and not yet blessing her with a new one. As the years went by, her faith weakened. Her once good life was gone and besides Salena, God was the next in line to take the blame. Arnita needed a crutch to lean on so it was second nature for her to depend on the only man in her life, Roland Jr., whether he was ready for that responsibility or not.
In between Little Ro cutting grass, staying on the honor roll at high school and taking care of his younger sister, he was faced with obstacle after obstacle. Things with his family's financial situation were looking more than dismal the afternoon he walked up to Lamont's house.
Anytime he would cut Lamont's lawn or trim the hedges, he never needed to bring his own equipment. Lamont, a local drug dealer, had everything Little Ro required in a shed in the rear of the huge backyard. He wasn't like the average dope dealer in the movies, callous and demented with no use for anyone other than himself. Lamont used to sit on the back deck reading books to his small son as Little Ro cut the grass. Lamont also even coached football for the Children's League. Even though Little Ro didn't necessarily condone Lamont's lifestyle and the way he made his living, he still understood the hustle and the grind.
This day was different from most as Little Ro neared the front porch like he did every two weeks. Outside of all the strange cars parked in the driveway, something else seemed out of the ordinary to Little Ro. Even though Lamont knew a lot of people in and around Detroit, he never had this much company at his house at one time. The few occasions that he did see any of Lamont's cronies, they were all pushing hotter whips than the ones that were now parked on the premises.
"Yes, can I help you?"
Little Ro was rudely met by a middle aged woman with a pile of clothes gathered in her hands.
"What do you want?" the woman asked as if she was getting very impatient with him.
"I'm here to do the yard work. Is Lamont home?"
"Naw, he ain't here, so don't be expecting no money for nothing!"
"Oh, he already paid me." Lamont always paid him for the entire month up front. Little Ro tried to inconspicuously look over the woman's shoulder. He was curious as to what all the noise and commotion coming from the inside of Lamont's usually quiet home was about. "I come every two weeks," Little Ro added.
Looking down at the grass then back over her shoulder at the people inside who were getting more boisterous as the seconds passed, the woman told Little Ro to go ahead, cut the grass and leave her alone. "This is my house now anyway and I don't want it looking a hot mess. So hurry up."
"Your house? Over my dead body!" one man yelled out the doorway.
"Mine too," a female added. "He would've wanted me to have this house and that flat screen."
Heading to the rear of the house, a confused Little Ro saw Lamont's baby momma, Tanika, and six year old son pull up. Jumping out the car, Tanika appeared to be infuriated.
"How y'all gonna be all up in the house like it belongs to y'all?" Tanika huffed as she made her way up to the door, dragging her son by the hand the entire way.
"Girl, bye." The woman who had been so rude to Little Ro was being just as rude to Tanika. "This here is family business and don't concern you at all! You acting like you were his wife."
"This is his son, his blood, so that makes it my business," Tanika screamed back at the woman as she held onto her son. By now several people came out of the house and began to congregate in the front yard, loading contents from Lamont's home into their cars.
"Listen here, Ms. Thang, with ya uppity behind," one other person spoke up. "Real Talk; unless you got papers to this or that", she pointed around, "then you need to step. Lamont was our relative, so that gives us first grabs at everything in and around here."
"Y'all so disrespectful it don't make no sense." Tanika shook her head in disgust. "He hasn't been dead twenty-four hours and y'all over here behaving like a pack of wild vultures." Lamont's son started to cry as his mother shouted at his cousins, aunts and uncles. "He couldn't stand none of y'all when he was alive, so what makes y'all think he'd want y'all to have anything of his?"
"Oh, well! He ain't here to answer that himself now is he?" a cousin replied as she carried three leather jackets in tow even though it was the beginning of summer. She placed them inside of her popped trunk.
"Yeah!" another cosigned. "And anyway, what in the heck is you doing here anyway? You and that baby of yours live clean across town. Obviously you just mad we beat you to the punch."
There was laughter among several of Lamont's family members.
"Unlike all of you vultures," Tanika said with puffy and red eyes, "I've got keys to this house and the property inside that belongs to me! Y'all scrubs over here stealing from a dead man instead of mourning his loss!"
Frozen in his tracks, Little Ro realized that Lamont was just not home for the time being, but that he was deceased. Getting a hard knot in the pit of his stomach, Little Ro leaned against the concrete wall in denial. Since his father's death, Lamont had been the closest person to Little Ro that had passed away. Even though they weren't homeboys or running partners, Little Ro and Lamont had a mutual respect for one another and he would definitely miss their biweekly chats.
Ah, naw. Little Ro let his emotions take over as he closed his eyes thinking about why people had to die. Life ain't fair.
Finally, after regaining his composure, Little Ro went to the medium size shed and pulled out the lawn mower. Lamont had paid him to do a job, and even though he wasn't gonna be there on the back porch, he still knew that he wanted to cut the grass one more time to fulfill his obligation. As the loud sounds of the mower ripped through the yard, Little Ro couldn't help but overhear the shouts, screams and obvious smashing up of items from inside the house.
While trimming the hedges, Little Ro sadly noticed Lamont's small son who'd wondered out the house and was standing near the curb.
"What's going on, li'l man?" he questioned the child after turning off the lawnmower.
"Nuttin'," the boy shrugged.
"Tired of all the big people making noise, huh?"
"Yes." He covered his ears, which were big just like his now deceased father's. "And I want my daddy!"
Before Little Ro could console the small child any further, remembering exactly how he felt the day his own father passed, the child's mom barreled out the front door with an arm full of her belongings that thankfully weren't gangstered by Lamont's kin folk. Tossing the stuff in the rear of the car, Tanika looked over at her son who stared down toward the pavement to keep from crying.
"Come on, baby, let's go before Mommy messes around and catches a case!" She snatched her son up by the arm, practically throwing him into the passenger seat, not even bothering to safely strap him in.
"You best get on," one cousin yelled from the porch, watching Tanika roar off the block, which was now crowded with onlookers.
Little Ro was pissed off to the eighth degree as he marched in the back yard, grabbing a broom to clean up before he left the premises for the last time. When he was almost ready to leave, the same woman he'd first encountered when he'd arrived came out onto the back deck and walked out into the middle of the freshly cut grass. After seeming to survey his work she called him over.
"Listen here," she frowned. "I want you to take that lawnmower and all the rest of that stuff out that shed and off my property!"
"Excuse me, Miss?" Little Ro wanted to honestly smack the cow mess outta the rude woman, but was always taught to respect his elders, so he held his composure. "I don't understand what you mean."
"Everything ain't always meant for you to understand!" She placed her hands firmly on her wide oversized hips. "That shed is blocking the place where my new gazebo gonna go! Now is you gonna clean it out and take all that stuff with you, or do you want me to flag down one of these guys out here scraping?"
With a brief moment of hesitation, Little Ro happily headed over to the shed gathering as much of his newly acquired lawn equipment he could onto a steel push cart. Snatching a royal blue tarp off the floor that was thrown in the corner, he noticed something strange. Leaning over to inspect what seemed to be hidden in a cardboard box, Little Ro couldn't believe his eyes as he crotched down. Even though he was raised growing up in the church by a God fearing mother and avoided the street life that tempted him on a daily basis, he recognized what most would call a gift from the good man upstairs.
What in the. . .? Little Ro puzzled to himself as he glanced over his shoulder to see if the woman had returned outside to see if he was gone. I must be dreaming.
As he peeked into the small sized duffle bag which had a broken zipper, he pulled out a manila colored envelope with twenty dollar bills neatly arranged with all the faces to the front and several thick plastic sacks with huge amounts of pills in each. Digging deeper, Little Ro discovered another bag with a couple of baggies of weed and a digital scale. Not knowing what to do next, instinctively he tucked the bag under one of the hedge trimmers, tossed the tarp on the cart and used a few bungee cords to secure the items down.
Slowly pushing the cart out the driveway with one hand and the lawn mower with the other, sweat started to pour down his face. Turning back only once to see if anyone from Lamont's house would change their minds about the belongings, Little Ro nervously took the side streets to get to his house, totally forgetting about the other yards he was scheduled to cut.
Rushing the cart into the garage, he unfastened the cords to retrieve the duffle bag and ran in the side door to his bedroom. Turning the lock with the skeleton key, he closed his blinds and took the envelope out.
"Twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, a hundred," he repeated seventeen times.
To many, $1,700 dollars wasn't a lot, but in Little Ro's household, that was way over the total amount his weary mother, Arnita, who often volunteered to work double shifts and overtime, made in a month. Amazed with his sudden cash windfall, he didn't pay any attention to the bags of multishaded pills.
"I'm gonna give half of this money to Ma," he proclaimed out loud. "Then buy me a new pair of sneakers and another lock and chain for the garage."
After spending all afternoon with pen and paper stretching out $1,700, Little Ro heard his mother come in with his sister in tow. Before he could inform her about his blessing, not to mention the tragedy of Lamont's untimely death, he saw the look of despair on her face.
"What's wrong, Ma?" He took a bag of groceries out of her hands and sat them on the table.
"My job just issued layoffs, and as you can see, your mother was one of the lucky ones."
Watching her ball up the pink slip and throw it into the trash, Little Ro knew that it was his cue to save the day, so to speak. Dashing back in his room he lifted his mattress, grabbing the money.
"Hey, Ma. Guess what?" he asked, returning to the kitchen.
"Not now, Roland," she sighed. "I forgot the sauce for the spaghetti. Can you run down to the store and get a jar?"
"Yes, Ma but-"
"Please, baby. Tell me when you get back. Your sister has to eat and I have a major headache."
Tucking the wad of cash in his front pocket, Little Ro headed out the door and up the block to the store. As soon as he bent the corner, he ran smack into a smoked out Salena Jackson, who was now the proud owner of a new title: the neighborhood crack whore. Her son, Deon, who detested the embarrassment of being birthed by such a female, was there as usual trying relentlessly to get his mother off the street tricking and to go home, but as fate would have it, she was not the slight bit interested in him or any of his bright life altering ideas. Every since Roland Sr.'s murder in her home and the neighborhood following Arnita's warning, Salena was ostracized and now ridiculed.
"Hey now, baby boy." She sluggishly slurred her words, not immediately recognizing Little Ro. "You want some of this?" She put her hands on her hips and shook her hips.
"Naw, I'm good," Little Ro replied.
"You sure?" Salena squinted while trying to comb her boney fingers through her tangled hair.
"Ma, what's wrong with you?" Deon snatched her up by the elbow. "Is you all the way crazy, or what?"
"Get ya hands off me!" she yelled at her son as Little Ro disappeared into the store. "I could've got me a few dollars since you ain't giving me nothing to work with. And I know you got it!"
"Shut up! Dang!" Deon shook Salena while slamming her against the store's concrete wall. "Do you even know who that was you were trying to push up on? Do you?"
"What difference do it make to you if he got some money to give me? You always running behind me trying to act like you my daddy or something!" Salena rubbed her shoulder. "I'm ya Momma."
Deon shook his head with contempt. "Why are you always embarrassing me?"
"What's the big deal, Deon? Why you all up in my face about some trick?"
"Well, that was Roland!"
"Huh?" Salena said in a surprised tone.
"Oh, now you wanna pay attention." Deon, head lowered, turned around, walking off before his former classmate had the chance to come out the store and clown him. "You make me sick! I wish you was dead sometimes. At least I'd be free!"
"Little Roland?" Salena said under her breath as she stared off down at the concrete. She felt a bit of shame cloud her cracked out brain and dropped her head. "Are you sure?" she called out to her son.
Deon put his hand up, dismissing his mother, without even turning around as he walked out of sight.
Standing to the side of the store's door, a jumpy Salena waited as patiently as she could for the son of her murdered ex-lover to come out so she could apologize for her behavior. Even though she had a monkey on her back the size of Texas and was craving to get high, Salena let potential Tricks pass by feeling that she at least owed the young teenager an explanation as to why she'd came onto him the way she did.
Eventually, Little Ro appeared from behind the store's doors.
"Hello, Roland." Salena tried unsuccessfully to rub her matted hair into a ponytail and straighten out her oil stained blue jean skirt. "Can I talk to you about something?"
"About what?" Little Ro twisted his upper lip, shrugging his shoulder to the side in attempt to avoid Salena's filthy hands from touching him. "I already told ya nasty behind I'm tight!"
"I just wanted to let you know I'm sorry for asking you what I did. If I would've known you was my Roland's little son, I wouldn't-"
"Your Roland? Are you serious?" He stopped in his tracks, looked her up and down, judgmentally laughing loudly. "Those drugs you on must really have your mind messed up or something; stepping to me like that."
"All I meant was that I was wrong and I ain't mean to disrespect you." She followed him down the block, still trying to plead her case. Deon watched from the steps of his friend's porch. "Your father was a good man and I really loved him."
Little Ro was infuriated, trying his best to remain calm as Salena continued to painstakingly trail behind him. Carrying the several plastic bags packed with his mother's items as well as chips, pop and a few candy bars he'd bought for his little sister, he finally lost control of his emotions and let his deceased father's ex-lover have it.
"Stop talking about my father, okay! Everybody knows if it wasn't for you being such a selfish minded tramp, he'd still be alive!" Not in his usual character, Little Ro had no problem screaming at an adult. "So for real, stop bringing up the past talking about how much you loved him! Go somewhere and do what you've been doing for years; smoke crack and leave me and my family alone!"
Momentarily standing on the corner taking stock of what was said as Little Ro angrily marched away, Salena was interrupted by the sounds of an old grey Ford Tempo blowing its horn. She looked over and the occupant signaled for her to come and ride with him around the block in the alley for a few minutes before he had to go home, undoubtedly to his wife and kids.
I don't know who she thinks she is, talking to me like I care what she has to say. Little Ro contemplated with each passing step he took. I would tell Ma what she had the nerve to say, but things are already bad enough for her.
"What up, Dude?" Deon, with pants sagging, ran off the stairs catching up with his former classmate who didn't even slow down his pace. "Let me holler at you for a minute."
"Listen up-" Rattled with emotions, Little Ro barely acknowledged Deon's presence. "If this is about what I just said to your mother, she had it coming."
"Naw, Dude, I know she be bugging out. That's what I wanted to say." Deon pulled up his pants to keep them from falling to his ankles as he walked.
Little Ro was relieved since he didn't want or need any sort of trouble from Deon, especially because of his rumored affiliation with a local gang. "Oh, okay."
"Yeah, it's all that dope that got her acting the way she do; out here tricking with all these so called men."
Feeling a small bit of sympathy for Deon, Little Ro slowed the pace of his walk back home to his hard working mother, who would never think of doing the despicable things that Salena did. "Dang, gee man, I'm sorry things are so messed up for you."
"It ain't nothing." Deon tried down playing his pain, but unfortunately wore the grave appearance of sorrow written all across his face. "That's how it goes sometimes."
"Hey, not to get into your business," Little Ro continued this strange unexpected conversation. "But how come you don't attend classes any more?"
"Come on now, Dude, you know it ain't no secret that them busters at school was trying to hold me back another year. And a cat like me wasn't going for that. School just ain't for me," he reasoned. "Besides, with a moms like mine, a brother gotta get out here and grind if I wanna eat."
Before the unlikely pair knew it, they were standing in front of Little Ro's house, met by Arnita standing on the porch. "Boy, bring your behind in this house with that sauce. You know Patrice gotta eat before she starts practicing for that recital of hers," Arnita fussed.
"Okay, Ma." Little Ro got an epiphany as he glanced downward at the bags in his hands that were stuffed with items he'd purchased with the extra dough that lined his pockets.
"Alright, dawg, I see ya moms is calling you, so I'm gonna bounce."
If he'd been any other friend from school, Little Ro would've invited him in to have dinner with his family, but considering who Deon and his mother was, Little Ro knew that definitely wasn't happening. So instead, Little Ro had an alternative idea.
"Hey, Deon, I'm not trying to step outta line, but are you busy tomorrow about noon? I've got a business proposition for you that might make us both some money."
Hearing the word money was all Deon, who was always tangled up in some get rich or die trying scheme, needed to hear. He confirmed that he'd meet up with Little Ro in front of the store at twelve o'clock sharp before heading off into the 'something dangerous darkness' that was Detroit. Little Ro then ran up the steps, and disappeared into the loving security of his home.