Street Metals

No one knew what was happening in the Mack household at the time, but for a few weeks, Stacey didn’t answer her phone. It would ring once then Stacey would cuss, suck her teeth and walk out the front door to the corner store. She would then stand in between the two remaining pay phones that were left and wait for one of them to ring. She would answer it, listen, say yes or no sometimes accompanied by an eye roll then she would go back inside the house as if nothing happened.

But things, in fact, were happening. It was how business was handled from the inside. Most of the time, the residents within the house by the corner store just knew twas their duty to handle the phone calls.

Nothing annoyed Stacey more than when the new girl of some corner boy was hanging out on Stacey’s stoop waiting for the pay phone to ring. She never understood the appeal of dating a corner boy.

For what?

For some airbrushed t-shirt with y’all names tricked out in the dopest graffiti font that y’all wore walkin around the mall?

Cuz that’s all they did back then was walk around the mall, eat overpriced soft pretzels and lemonade, and listen to all the new releases in the Sam Goody.

That was until the corner boy did his first real move with some actual weight and got a lil bank. Then it was the three M Friday or if he really wanted to show off a four or five M weekend. Three M’s consisted of the mall, McDonalds and the movies. Until you got grown and the m’s capitalized to meal, movies, motel. The four and five m’s depended on where the last m was located and the number of days y’all stayed.

But that was usually for the grown ups.

Or the working girls.

Yes the working girls were that young. Poor things. Their little boyfriends got them hooked on their supply and disposed of them appropriately or not.

Nevertheless it took Stacey years to work off her debt, but now, she’s mannin the phones in exchange for protection for her son. Because her son was going to be here to protect his little sister. The way someone should’ve been around to protect Stacey.

She would do whatever she had to keep her daughter safe. Even if it meant keeping Dennis in the dark and playing a role for the police detectives. She knew that it was gonna take everything the streets taught her: the good the bad and the downright ugly. And even though, she jumped and her heart raced when her phone rang once and only once, Stacey popped up jogged across the living room, peeked in the bassinet at her sleeping daughter and darted out the open screen door and down the stoop to the answer the ringing pay phone.

“Hello?” Stacey answered with a slight hint of disdain in her voice.

“Hey Moma.” Malik’s greeting was soft almost childlike. To be honest, hearing Stacey’s voice jarred a sadness from within his chest that caught him by surprise and left that childlike innocence lingering in the air like misty rain in the morning.

The shock of hearing her son’s voice caught in Stacey’s throat and typically it would have escaped her mouth with an excited breathless squeaky whisper, but because she knew for a fact that corner was surveilled she shook the shock from her and resumed a business-like demeanor.

“Good to hear your voice boy. Phase one?” She asked hoping he remembered.

“Finalized. Phase 2 underway.” Malik responded as if mother and son prepared for this moment their whole lives.