Neighborhood Watches

Malik’s stomach immediately churned at the sound of the words “family emergency” and he pushed his food to the side and got up on one knee. Jasmine stopped him before he could fully rise to his feet.

“Whoa, Leek, your peeps good. Relax. Eat.”

Malik raised his brow at Jasmine, but she sensed it without looking at him.

“Fix yo face man. If somethin was serious, serious, we wouldn’t even get a call. Man or Sticks would just appear and we’d be whisked off somewhere.”

Malik resumed eating his food as he recalled the way his friend Rondell got into Sticks jeep one day, was gone for a week, and then just reappeared on the waterfront like it was common place. He nodded.

“Yeah, I recall. For a minute, I ain’t think I ever was gon see Dell again.”

Jasmine chuckled, “You didn’t?”

Malik sighed, “Shit yeah. Your man has quite the rep.”

“Ugh, please don’t remind me.” She said as she sopped the dressing out of her salad container with a piece of garlic bread and popped it in her mouth.

“What that he’s your man; or that he has a rep?”

“E. O. B.” She replied through chews.

“End of business?” Malik asked with genuine confusion.

Jasmine giggled, “Either or both.”

“Then why do you stay?” Malik asked continuing in a tone of genuine sincerity.

Jasmine then popped up to grab some wine but noticed both bottles we almost empty.

“We need more wine.” Jasmine said as she sashayed over to the refrigerator. In true Malik form, he now had his food container teetering atop his fingertips as he was shoveling the remainder of his food into his mouth. Nevertheless, he didn’t completely take his gaze off of Jasmine because her last sentence stimulated his hood alert. He finally finished, scanned the table for any empty food containers, gathered them up and sauntered back out onto the patio where the trash was. Upon coming back inside, Jasmine met him at the door, nodded a thank you and the pair went back into the living room.

“I’m surprised you ain’t slurrin by now.” Malik asked more than stated as Jasmine poured each of them another glass.

Jasmine wrinkled up her face, “Offa this? Nah, this is dinner wine. It ain’t meant to make ya drunk. It’s ‘sposed to relax ya and stimulate yo appetite.”

“Speakin of appetite, you need me to do somethin bout that trash on the patio before the bears get to it?” Malik asked while gesturing over hos shoulder with his thumb.

“Bears?” Jasmine almost squealed her reply. “Where in the actual fuck do you think we are?” Unless yo tallem bout Kordell Stewart, ain’t no bears round chea.”

Malik was stunned silent. He actually had no idea where he was, and it wasn’t until that moment that the realization started to bother him. Typically, he would have had surveilled the place and found all of the entrance and exits both visible and not. But this time, he didn’t. He just did what he was told like a good soldier. But he didn’t feel so good at that moment. As Malik continued to stare out the window into the covered pool, he titled his head and let it bob from side to side.

“You right; I guess it’s like when we go to the shore. That long ass dark road we go down no matter if it’s by train or car, it’s like we drivin through the middle of the forest somewhere.”

Jasmine’s face was blank. This was an expression which was normally reserved for processing information. It was one attribute of hers that she was proud of because it literally saved her life many times. This way no one could tell what she was thinking and thus their reactions weren’t factored into any decisions she had to make at the time.

“The fuck is the shore?” She asked with such force and disdain the interjection made Malik jump a bit. He chuckled slightly before picking up his glass to sip.

“You know the place with the sand and the ocean?”

“The beach?” She squealed the question.

“Well yeah, the beach.”

“Why the hell do you call it the shore?” Jasmine sincerely asked.

“If you honestly want an answer to that question, Jaz, I dunno what to tell you. Moms always called it the shore, Tori and her people…” Malik responded with a shrug.

“And you never questioned it?” Jasmine said taking a long drag off of her blunt and mechanically holding it out to Malik, who for the very first time accepted the gesture.

He almost dropped the blunt trying to hold it in his fingertips, but found that if he used the sharp edge of his finger nail to hold it he wouldn’t burn himself. The way he puckered his lips to inhale, however, made Jasmine outwardly cackle.

“Boy gimme dat shit!” She said snatching it from his hand. “You suckin on it like it’s a bodega pop.”

She took another hit.

“The fuck is a bodega pop?” Malik quipped sarcastically.

“I think you get them down the shore.” Jasmine spat back.

“Touché.”

“Everything ain’t for everybody.”

“You got that right.” Malik punctuated his statement by lighting a Black & Mild instead of a cigarette.

“Ewe, you must hate your lungs,” Jasmine remarked.

Malik let out a holler-filled cackle so loud it caused Jasmine to squeal again and then join him in a chorus of laughter. His breath became choppy and wheezy, but still he tried to speak.

“Imagine…if…I actually…was able…to…hit the blunt.” He said in between coughs and laughs.

“You’d be high as fuck with the way you’re coughin right now.”

“Probably right. I don’t think I would like it.”

“Why you say that?”

He shrugged and inhaled his cigar, “I just don’t like feelin out of it. I never understood potheads, no disrespect.”

“Not a pothead, none taken.”

“Nother debate for another day. I just seen people all high layin around all day, noddin out, lookin stupid.”

“See if that’s what they lookin like, they was doin more than weed.”

“Ya think?”

Jasmine nodded taking another sip of wine, “Mhmm, cracker crumbs good for that shit. Po pale pasty pricks get bored so they raid their mama’s medicine cabinet lookin for a buzz. End up in the ER lyin to my ass. There was this one pale non-recyclable bitch…”

Malik interrupted, “Pale non-recyclable?”

“White trash.”

Malik chuckled his rebuttal.

“When I’m not patchin up bullet-ridden gangsters, I work with the public, so I have to talk in code as not to offend their fragility.” Jasmine rolled her eyes and her affect so hard she began to rock back and forth.

“I remember this one time a grandmother brought her granddaughter into the ER because her pediatrician prescribed medicine to calm her and make her focus…”

“Okay?”

“But the poor child was damn near bouncing off the walls, talking nonstop.”

Malik looked confused and concerned, “Bad side effect?”

Jasmine was smirking as if she were disappointed, “How bout no effect? We tested the kid, no medicine in her system.”

“Well Jaz you know some parents don’t like …”

“Her moma was snorting them, Leek.”

“Damn.”

“Saw it all the time. So nah, those folk who can barely make it in the house and piss themselves at the front door, opiates. Cuz as soon as the plasma center opens, they make it on time for that though.”

As Malik listened attentively, Jasmine continued.

“I mean don’t get me wrong. I’ve tried some strains that made me cuss myself out, but even the strongest strains don’t have you lookin like a pill poppin saltine.”

“You really don’t like white people do you?” Malik chuckled through the question, but when he looked at Jasmine, her expression was flat. That solicited an uncomfortable lull of silence which caused Mailk to raise his brow to which Jasmine exclaimed,

“As light as I am, I’m pretty damn sho I got French vanilla syrup in me. But my moma don’t claim em. As a matter of fact we cling to our African and Native American-ness.”

“Word. Apparently my folk are…shit. You know what? I don’t think I actually know. Moms is from the states, that much I know. My pops could be straight off the slave ship for all I know, I ain’t neva met the man.”

“He still alive?”

Malik shrugged. “Damned if I know.”

“Jesus. I couldn’t imagine not knowin if my Daddy was alive or not.”

“Well the way I grew up, I was more worried bout if Moms was gonna OD in her sleep.”

The pair were quiet for a while as the setting sun streaked the living room through the bamboo blinds.

“Well at least she’s doing well now.” Jasmine stated matter of fact.

Malik nodded, inhaled on his cigar and blew smoke out of his nose, “Yeah so far.”

Malik’s mind began to wander as he started thinking about his mother and the hard life she chose for herself. And now, he’s got a little sister. God help her. But Dennis seems like he’s a good guy, so Malik didn’t anticipate any worries there. As long as they stayed clean, Atiya would be fine. The only worry to be had at that point was…him. He let his eyes span over every inch of the house as he tried to recall then itemize everything he saw on the drive in. Because not for nothin, he’s wanted. So why was he sitting still?

“Aye yo Jaz, what kinda family emergency? Was it Moms? Atiya?”

Jasmine shook her head and shrugged, “not that side of the family.”

“Bet.” Malik said, “Be right back gotta pay the water man.”

Jasmine shrugged while Malik planned his escape.