Read The Preachers Son for Free Online Page B

sweatpants.” He handed them to me and I slipped into them. Then I reached over on the sofa and searched for my scarf before heading into the bathroom.
    Five minutes later I was walking down 109th Street toward Guy Brewer Boulevard and the little C-Town supermarket three blocks away. I could have gone to the bodega a block away, but I was hoping to spot my mother on the boulevard and give her a piece of my mind. Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be found. The only people I saw on the boulevard were those who were waiting for the bus, and the losers who hung around the corner near the supermarket.
    When I walked up, the losers started whistling and catcalling at me like a bunch of dogs in heat. I didn’t pay them no mind, though. I was used to it. Even with a scarf, a beat-up T-shirt, and a baggy old pair of sweatpants, there was no hiding my body. God had blessed me with a pair of perfect D-cup titties that stood straight up and an ass that could make Jennifer Lopez jealous. I was used to the attention from both men and women, but I knew the bitch in me was about to come out when one of those fools ran to the supermarket entrance and blocked my way.
    “What’s up, baby ? You sure lookin’ good today.” His name was Joe-Joe and he had so much alcohol on his breath it almost knocked me down. The one major drawback to living in my neighborhood was you never meet any real men, just thugs and creeps like Joe-Joe.
    “Thank you,” I said politely, hoping that I could just sidestep him and go into the market. But as always when it came to these fools on the boulevard, he took my kindness for weakness and wouldn’t let me pass.
    “Hey, baby. Where you going in such a rush? I wanna talk to you. You remember me, don’t you? I’m Joe-Joe. We talked at the club a couple weeks ago. I’m the guy that knows your momma, ’member?” I glanced at my watch. I didn’t have time for this shit. I had to get Aubrey off to school so he wouldn’t be late.
    “Yeah, Joe-Joe, I remember you. Now could you please let me pass? I got some shopping to do.” I tried to push my way past but he grabbed my arm.
    “What, you too good to talk to me or something? You wasn’t too good to take my money two weeks ago, was you?” He started grinning like there was more to it than there really was, and his friends all started laughing. I pulled my arm free and got up in his face.
    “Please, nigga, don’t be acting like you some big spender, ’cause your ass only gave me a dollar. Matter of fact, you can have that shit back right now with interest if you want it. What I owe you, a dollar twenty-five?” His friends laughed even harder this time and I was hoping this little scene was over, but unfortunately it wasn’t.
    “Yeah, that’s about right, since everyone knows you ain’t but a quarter of the woman your momma is, and she ain’t nothin’ but a five-dollar ho.” Of course his little peanut gallery was damn near on the ground cracking up now. It was a good thing I didn’t have my blade, because I’d probably be on my way to central booking for attempted murder.
    “Well, if we hoes, at least we get paid, Joe-Joe. From what I hear, everyone on the block done had your wife for free. Everyone but you, that is. But now’s your chance. I just passed your house and the line outside your door was down to about ten. Matter of fact, if you ask my twelve-year-old brother, he might let you cut the line.”
    His friends were laughing so loud it sounded like they were crying. Joe-Joe didn’t have a comeback for this one. He just stood there stunned. That’s when I took the opportunity to push my way past him and into the safety of the store.
     
    “That’ll be six seventy-six,” the cashier said nonchalantly, staring at her fingernails as if behind her register was the last place she wanted to be at seven-thirty in the morning. I nodded then reached in my bag for my wallet, only to pull my hand out empty.
    “Where the fuck is my wallet?”