Rightchus scratched his head. The buzzing annoyed him. He walked over to the where the television set was and struck it a few times with his open hand. He waited for some kind of a change but the reception got worse. Rightchus banged a few more times on the set.
“What? That’s it? Get da fuck out. Come on, gimme some type of picture. Man, I wanna see who the fuck got shot,” Rightchus mumbled then all the reception was gone. All he had now was snow and the accompanying hissing. He gave the broken box a couple more slaps and then left his place. “Got to get me a new television. Flat screen joint,” he said and walked out onto the street. “I just hope it ain’t my girl, Coco, that got shot.”
Rightchus saw a neighborhood fiend approaching. “Hey, you heard about that shooting today over at that record producer, Ascot’s, apartment? Huh, ya heard anything? My girl, Coco, she was there taking care of some BI, ya know?”
“I ain’t heard a damn thing, dogs. Gimme a cigarette.”
“I ain’t got no free cigarette, man. Buy one, my brother,” Rightchus said.
“Aiight, aiight, I feel you but I ain’t holding nothing now. Let me hold one until...”
“Man, you ain’t nothing but a crack head. Where you gonna get money to buy cigarettes? C’mon, get real. Ain’t nothing free, man.”
“You gonna do me like that?
“Man, you better go on. I ain’t doing shit. I got places to go,” Rightchus said and began singing as he walked to the Chinese restaurant. Maybe they have their television. Chinese people always paying their bills, he thought as he walked into the tiny take out restaurant with the bulletproof windows.
“Chicken wings and pork fried rice with lots of hot sauce and ketchup.” Rightchus placed his order but there was no visible response. “Why y’all looking at me like that? C’mon, y’all shook, niggas? What’s up?”
“You no pay, you never pay,” the man behind the counter shouted back. “You pay first and then we serve you,” he continued. “Every time you say you will pay, you no pay. You no have money, you don’t get food.”
“Man, I got money,” Rightchus said as he unveiled a twenty and got the results that cash brought. “Money is king, right? Make sure you put some extra duck sauce in the bag to go.”
“Duck sauce cost twenty five cent more.”
“Just put the damn thangs in da bag. Duck sauce twenty five cents more,” Rightchus mocked and howled to himself.
Next stop was the liquor store on the corner where he bought a pint of cheap liquor. He also found out that the person killed in the shoot out was not Coco. “It was someone else, not my girl, Coco,” Rightchus said and poured some of the liquor onto the curb. “Coco, you know I don’t like to waste my liquor but I’m glad it ain’t you, ma girl.” He sipped and C-walked his way back home.
EIGHT
“Madukes gonna flip once she finds out, yo,” Coco said as she sat watching television in Deedee’s room later that evening. The volume from the television was low and the girls sat, watching eagerly.
“Coco, the important thing is that we’re alive,” Deedee suggested. Coco agreed but with reservations.
“Yeah, that’s true but you don’t know my mom. I might as well be dead the way she’s gonna want me to live from now on. I won’t be able to go anywhere else but school for the next year. I might as well be under house arrest, yo.”
“You’re graduating soon. Its not gonna be that bad.”
“What! It’ll be to school and back home. No stopping for a minute.”
“Damn, Coco, things will be crazy, huh?”
“Is it! My crazy ass mother is not gonna want to stay in rehab no more,” Coco said.
“I’ll ask Uncle Eric or Sophia to talk to...”
“Hold up, yo, we made the evening news?” Coco interrupted Deedee. “Look, it’s coming up right now,” Coco said and pointed to the wide screen television.
“Uncle E, the whole thing is on eyewitness news,” Deedee yelled. She plopped back down on the bed next to Coco and paid close attention.
“Two people were shot and one fatally wounded when a gunman attempted to rob the apartment of music producer, Eric Ascot. The police recovered one of the weapons that, at the moment, is being checked by the crime lab. So far, no one has been charged. Police have one of the shooters in custody. He has been identified as Michael Lowe. He was shot and wounded. Kamilla Davis, former model and dancer, was found shot to death in the apartment. The police are investigating the shootings and we will keep you up to date as information becomes available. Earlier this morning a flash flood destroyed...”
Coco and Deedee stared wide-eyed at each other for a second. The news story brought the unenviable feeling that they were being watched. Their reality had become television news drama.
“Oh shit. You saw that?” Deedee asked.
“How could I have missed it? I was sitting right here.”
“I can’t believe that we were on the news.”
“No we weren’t. They just talked about the shooting and said that one person was dead and another injured. That’s all, yo.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Deedee said. She seemed to be shaken by the fact that her horrible experience had made the evening news.
“What you trying to say?
“I’m just saying. I mean, in the hood people get shot everyday?”
“So?”
“I’m just saying it’s not everyday people get shot in this neighborhood. They’re more violent in your hood, that’s all.”
“You know that may be true and all but what are you really trying to say?”
“I’m saying when you see violence around you all the time then you just expect it all the time, that’s all.”
“I’m not sure I understand. In the hood, people starving and if you want sump’n, you’ve got to go get it. Niggas can’t get a job but they got families so they go and rob and...”
“Get real, Coco. People in your hood aren’t robbing to feed their family. They robbing to feed their greed. Most of them are nothing but fiends.”
“All the poor people in the hood ain’t fiends, yo.”
“Yeah, well...” Deedee was interrupted by Coco.
“You don’t know no one from my hood so whatever.”
“You don’t have to know anyone. They’re always on the news, Coco.”
“And the news is always right, Deedee?” Coco asked and emphasizing every syllable of her name. This was not lost on Deedee. She knew that she had stepped out of line and offended Coco. She was trying to get a point across but it wasn’t worth the friendship. Someone had to step back, Deedee thought as she saw the gritty look on the face of her friend. Deedee smiled and leaned back, not wanting to further agitate the situation. Even she had to realize that the evening news was homemade.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d offend you,” Deedee said and reached out to touch Coco’s hand. Coco returned the squeeze.
“It’s all good, yo. I guess we were both bugging on the news situation.”
“I guess we were.”
“My