Hood Ornaments

When Tori met up with Dell, she playfully punched him on the arm as they started walking to the corner store.

"Thanks a lot!" She snapped.

Dell rolled his eyes. "Tori, we gonna have that basement knocked out in no time. I'm gonna call Tony and Malik so they can help. Besides, we need to talk."

"Talk about what?”

"How my uncle is gonna make us rich this summer."

Tori's eyes narrowed as she looked at Dell. His eyebrows rose and his smile became wide. Tori continued to frown at Dell while they were walking. He smirked at her.

"Okay what's that look for?" He asked.

"You know why I am looking at you that way." Tori spat back. She shook her head before looking down at the street. Her eyes scanned the blacktop looking for the shiny particles that shone like diamonds. When there was a lot of lavender in the sky, the street seemed to sparkle more. She didn't see a lot that morning. All she saw was gray, loose gravel and tar-filled cracks from the city's sorry attempt to fix all of the potholes. Only when they approached the Mecca of the neighborhood: the corner store, liquor store, Chinese spot and the Laundromat, was the street a consistent smooth black color. It was almost as if the city wanted its residents to have an easy, clear path to the whiskey, cigarettes, overpriced groceries, and fatty foods. Tori never rationalized an excuse for the Laundromat except maybe the residents wanted to look good as they were killing themselves.

They continued walking down the middle of the street. It was easy for them to do because the neighborhood wasn't fully awake yet. Only the older generation woke early. The ladies opened their blinds to reveal their floral print house dresses and head scarves. Gentlemen would shuffle up to the corner store to buy their newspaper even though they said the news was never good.

Just violence and gossip.

The rest of the neighborhood lay dormant until after eleven a.m. Just as Tori and Dell reached the corner, an emaciated woman in a tattered t-shirt and dirty tights popped out of nowhere and stood in front of them.

She spoke only to Tori.

"Hey sis, do you have any change so I can get the bus?"

The woman was standing close enough to Tori that she could smell her breath and body odor which was a mixture of hot garbage juice, sweat, and ass. What was left of her thinning hair was pulled back in a tiny ponytail fastened by a little barrette. Tori's face wrinkled up in disgust watching a line of spit break off the woman's top gums and fall over her crusted and cracked bottom lip.

"Jesus," Tori said waving her hand in front of her face in attempt to redirect the woman's odor. Dell shoved the woman by her shoulder causing her to cower and scuttle off down the street.

"Bitch, if you don't go somewhere and take a bath!" He yelled after her before pulling open the door of the corner store. The whole block would hear the familiar jingling of the cow bells fastened to the top of door. Dell held the door open so Tori could enter first. She shot him another evil look before retreating to the back of the store.

Confused Dell asked, "What, no thank you?"

"You make me sick," Tori answered without looking at him. Dell quickened his pace to catch up with her.

"Aw c'mon Tori, you ain't mad cuz I shoved the crackhead are you?"

Tori didn't respond as she began turning over the packs of bacon to inspect the expiration dates. Dell folded his arms and observed her.

"You know good and damn well that woman hasn't taken a shower let alone a bus in years."

Again, no response from Tori as she found the freshest package of bacon she could, put the other three packs under her arm, and began to walk to the register.

"You're buying four packs of bacon? He asked sarcastically. The only response he received from Tori was her sucking her teeth and rolling her eyes.

"Are you gonna answer me?" Dell asked sounding a little upset.

When they reached the register so Tori could pay, an older Arab man stopped got up from sitting on a large box containing cartons of cigarettes to ring her up.

"Four packs of bacon?" he asked with a thick accent.

Tori shook her head no, "Just one," she handed the other three packs to him, "these three have expired."

The owner nodded knowingly, took the packages and threw them in the garbage under the counter. Tori then paid. Dell was still standing behind her upset that she was ignoring him.

"I am sorry I shoved the crackhead, okay Tori," he said half-heartedly as Tori thanked the owner and brushed by Dell to leave the store.

"Thank you, come again," the man mechanically said as the sound of the

bells echoed through the neighborhood. Dell sighed and shook his head before quickening his pace again to catch up to Tori.

"C'mon, you can't be serious.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Tori noticed a long lanky guy on the corner talking to the same crackhead. The guy made a gesture with his head towards another corner. The woman was nodding in frantic joy and damn near skipped down the street.

Tori stared a long time at the guy's face. His eyes were beady and his nose was really flat and wide. Recognition set in as she remembered he went to the same high school and was three years ahead of her.

His name was Robert Hunter.

But they called him "Platypus" because of his nose.

He was a track star, and rumor had it he was headed to the Olympics.

Apparently now, he would be running for his life.

Tori wondered if he ever saw the diamonds in the blacktop.

Probably not, he never slowed down enough.

What a waste.

Tori's brief thoughts were interrupted by Dell barking at her.

"Am I wasting my breath here?" He asked causing Tori to stop suddenly in between the cracks of tar.

"Dell I am not mad at you for shoving the crackhead," she replied quickly before attempting to walk again, but Dell jumped in front of her path.

"So tell me why you mad?"

Tori glared up at him. "I am mad because you want to create crackheads for a living."

Dell was taken aback by her response He froze in the middle of the street.

Frowning.

Tori pushed her hand through the handles of the grocery bag so it dangled from her wrist, put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrow.

"What," she said more than asked.

"The hell you talkin bout, Tor?" was Dell's only response.

Tori now crossed her arms in front of her. "You want to work for your uncle?"

"Yeah?" Dell said confused.

"Sticks Martin?" She asked emphatically.

"Yeah Tori, what's the problem?"

"Don't play dumb with me Dell! We all know what Uncle Sticks does for a living. If you call it that. We haven't even graduated yet, and you ready to give up on life already?"

Dell became angry. “Give up?! Tori I don't know if you have noticed, but there ain't shit else out here to do. Ain't no real jobs out here. Not everyone is talented like you. I'm sure you got letters flowin out your mailbox for art schools. Tony is real smart and is probably goin to college, Malik wants to become a cop, God only knows why since they reducing the force left and right. What the hell else am I supposed to do?!"

Tori shook her head, "You have options. You could go to community college..." The more she spoke the less confident she sounded. "Something."

"See you don't even believe what you just said."

Tori lowered her head and searched her mind for a reasonable rebuttal. Dell relaxed his stance long enough for her to begin walking again.

"I never thought you would be so judgmental considerin who your pops was.”

"The hell you talkin bout Dell?"

"Please, your pops, from what I heard my uncle say was an OG."

"Bullshit!" She replied shaking her head, "My pops worked at the post office with my grandfather."

"That's what they told you. From what I heard Dre ran this city."

Tori stopped sharply again and shoved Dell as hard as she could,

"Keep my father's name out yo mouth Dell! You don't know shit!"

Dell chuckled, "I know Trudy's house is paid for. I know you can't do that on a mailman's paycheck, shit not even two mailmen."

Tori shoved him again and pointed as far into his face as she could get.

"My grandfather had a pension you idiot! That's what smart, hardworking people do, plan for their future. Ask Uncle Sticks if he gotta pension, shit ask him if he got a future! You won't have one either if you fuck around with him."

Dell shrugged, "Sis, I already know the deal. I suggest you find out from Trudy where you come from and what really happened to your pops.”

With that he turned around and headed in the opposite direction leaving Tori standing in the middle of the street. She closed her eyes, cussed under her breath, and hurried back to the house. Trudy was going to be pissed when she realized Dell wasn't coming back to paint the basement, again, but she didn't care.

Tori had her own anger. She knew little about her father. That she couldn't even defend him adequately. As she made her way up the walk, she tried to think of a reasonable way to ask her grandmother all of the questions she really wanted to know. Trudy was always so tight lipped about him, she just assumed she was too hurt to talk about it

Even after all these years.

She entered the house, walked through the living room and into the kitchen that was painted in the colors of the sun to find Trudy chopping up potatoes. As Tori placed the bag on the amber countertop, she looked out of the small window over the sink. She was glad that the kitchen was painted this color. The sun never seemed to shine through that window.

"Where is Dell?" Trudy said scraping the potatoes off of the cutting board and into a pan sizzling with onions, peppers, and garlic.

Tori leaned up against the refrigerator and shrugged, "He went home I guess."

Trudy crouched down to peek at the burner as she turned the knob on the stove to light it.

"What do you mean you guess? You don't know?"

She bent down to grab another pan from the cupboard by the stove and placed it on the burner next to the potatoes.

"We got into a fight; he walked off."

Trudy sucked her teeth while she took the pack of bacon out of the bag and inspected the expiration date before she opened it.

"You two are always bickering. I think he just doesn't want to paint that basement."

She began taking strips of bacon off of the package and placing them in the pan.

"What are you two fussin about now?"

Tori crossed her arms but didn’t want to respond.

Mainly because she really didn't want to upset Trudy.

"I think he likes you, but knows he's too stupid for you," Trudy chuckled, "he's a nice boy but his uncle?” She shook her head, "he ain't nothing but riff-raff and they say the apple..."

Tori interrupted. "He called Daddy a drug dealer."

Trudy stopped briefly then placed the strip of bacon in the pan. Tori watched her carefully as she walked over to the sink and washed her hands before drying them on the dish towel that hung over the sink.

"Did you hear me Grandma?" Tori asked a little louder than she should have.

Trudy glared into her granddaughter's eyes, "Oh I heard you, Victoria. I'm just not gonna entertain that mess." She turned around and bent down again to light the other burner. Tori relaxed a little.

"I'm sorry Grandma for getting loud. It's just that we never talk about him. I don't know anything about him and even less about my mother. I couldn't even defend him. Dell kept sayin Sticks said Dre was..."

Trudy turned around sharply and pointed at Tori with a spatula,

“Don’t you ever call your father by his name and Sticks needs to shut the hell up if he knows what's good for him!”

Realizing she was showing a little more anger than she should have, Trudy turned around and began poking the bacon in the pan.

"I'm sorry Tori, I just won't have anyone talking bad about your daddy not while I am still alive. He was a good man. Took better care of you than your mama did, let her sad soul rest in peace."

She turned around and looked at Tori who had an expression on her face that somehow encompassed fear, sadness and confusion all at the same time.

"Go get washed up. We will have breakfast and then I will tell you more about your people, okay?"

All Tori could do was nod as she kissed Trudy on the cheek and walked

out of the kitchen.

Trudy looked up at the ceiling,

"Lord, guide me in finding the right things to say to this child. I don't know how much of the truth she can handle.