Chapter Fourteen
Sonya
“You ready?” Melody stood up.
“Yeah, but where we going?” I asked, tucking my ends, and Melody doing likewise.
“I think I’m losing my magic touch. I need to pick something before I lose my damn mind too.” Melody wiggled her long, skinny fingers at me, which looked like tentacles like she always did when she was ready to get her pick on.
“It’s calling yo’ name, huh?” I laughed, not judging, even though we both had a bankroll.
“You don’t feel me. That shits like my high. I don’t even think I can stop pickin’.”
“Yeah. You’ll be fifty years old, filthy rich, and still pickin’ pockets.”
“Now, you feel me.”
“Well, if it’ll make you feel any damn better and get you off my back, I’ll ride you around so you can get yo’ shit off.” Melody couldn’t wait to dig somebody’s pocket. I followed her up the steps and out of the door. “But after this, you needs to find another hobby. Start smoking weed or something. Anything that’ll calm yo’ ass down.”
“I’m off a natural high.”
“And that’s what scares me.”
I drove Melody from east to west so that she could do her thang. I sat in the car, laughing as I watched her work on all the “marks,” as she called them. The shit was all one big game to Melody. But she was my peoples, so I wasn’t tripping about riding around back on the petty shit, just as long as she was ready to rock when Mr. Brooks gave us the next job. In the meantime, she could pick until her fingertips got sore.
I looked up, and Melody was high-stepping it back to the car. She was looking from left to right with that look in her eyes which said, “Yeah, I just did something.”
I cranked up the car and held back a smile as she slid into the passenger seat, still scouring the lot for safety.
“What’s up? You get what you came for?” I teased.
Melody was sweating bullets and breathing hard. “Pull off.”
I pulled off from the strip mall. After we were in the clear, she dug in her pockets and emptied everything on the floor of the car. Excitedly, she rummaged through the large bankroll that she had just clipped from some random white man.
“Oh, hell naw. What in the entire fuck,” she shouted in denial.
“Dang, what’s wrong, what’s wrong?” I was utterly confused. Melody had two fists full of money, looking at it in pure disgust.
“That hook nose beige bastard had a Jewish mint,” she barked, throwing all the money on top of the dashboard.
“Had a what?” I puzzled, digging through the multitudes of bills.
“A motherfucking damn Jewish mint. You know, them bitch-ass Jews be so tight with their money. So that’s what we call it when we catch somebody with a hundred singles or more. I outta go back there a sock him in that long nose for wasting my time.”
I laughed so hard I was in tears. “Fuck it, girl. Chalk it up as just practice. I tell you what, let’s use that shit to grab something to eat. Then you can try again. We got shit to discuss anyhow.”