Free Christmas in the Hood by Nikki Turner

interested and staggered over to him. “Yo, baby, give me another free hit,” she begged as though Gigi wasn’t there. “I’ll make you feel good again.”
    Andrew looked embarrassed. “Not tonight,” he said, pushing her on down the street.
    “So that’s why you haven’t been making money,” Gigi said angrily. “You’ve been giving the shit away?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Andrew said, gazing down the street.
    “You gotta stay focused. We’re out here for Grandma.”
    He offered a few more passersby product, and only one agreed.
    After Gigi calmed down a little, she focused on the task at hand. “Have you sold any of the coke?” she asked.
    Andrew shrugged. “A little,” he said. “It’s too hard to move. Fiends checking for that rock.”
    Gigi popped him upside the head. “Have you lost your mind?” she asked. “The coke ain’t moving ’cause you’re pushing it to these junkies who can’t afford it. I told you you gotta hit Manhattan where them white folks at,” she said. “You claim to be a hustler, but you sure getting hustled. You’re probably giving away more product than you selling.”
    Andrew looked at the ground guiltily.
    “Did you forget we’re doing this for Grandma?”
    Before he could respond, a shadow fell over them.
    “Get yo’ faggot ass up off my corna, nigga,” a dark-skinnedman in his early twenties demanded as he strode up to Andrew. A black do-rag covered his nappy afro, and the latest urban fashion hung off his medium-build frame.
    “Fuck you, Rob,” Andrew shouted. “This ain’t yo corner, bitch!”
    Without warning, Rob slugged Andrew in the mouth. The impact sent Andrew stumbling backward into the brick wall of the grocery store, which was the only thing that kept him from falling flat on his ass. Gigi stared in shock for a moment before she rushed over to aid her cousin.
    Before she could check to see if he was okay, Andrew pushed her aside and pulled a knife out of his back pocket, flicked open the blade, and charged Rob, who tried to sidestep him. He still managed to plunge the blade halfway into Rob’s left thigh.
    “Ahhhhh … shit,” Rob said, staring down at the blood trickling from the gaping hole in his pant leg. “Why the fuck you stab me, muthafucka?” He covered his wound with his hand, trying to stem the flow of blood.
    Gigi grabbed her cousin’s arm.
    Stepping between the trio, Chico seemed to pop up out of thin air.
    “Both y’all niggas betta stop causin’ a scene on my block.” Chico pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and slid it into Rob’s free hand. “Go get that stitched up.”
    “This shit ain’t over,” Rob warned, shooting Andrew a death stare.
    Chico decided to send a warning of his own. “Don’t even think ’bout retaliating or you gonna deal wit’ me. You hear me, Rob?”
    Rob nodded reluctantly.
    “Now take yo’ ass to the hospital,” Chico ordered, staring Rob down. “And you better catch a bad case of amnesia when they ask you what happened.”
    With his head hung low, Rob limped over to the curb and hailed the first gypsy cab to pass by. He climbed into the back-seat, still holding his wounded leg.
    “That nigga’s getting his,” Andrew snapped, still clutching the knife tightly. “Watch.”
    “Put that away. What’s wrong with you?” Chico asked, grabbing the knife from him and tossing it into the sewage drain on the corner.
    “I didn’t come out looking for problems,” Andrew fumed. “That nigga put his hands on me. Tryin’ to put fear in my heart. Fuck that. I’ll stab his ass again.”
    “Just chill,” Gigi demanded. “You too hardheaded.”
    Chico added his two cents. “I’m telling you for yo’ own good, leave that shit alone.”
    Andrew balled up both fists angrily. “Long as he don’t say shit, it’s all good.”
    “You too hardheaded and ambitious,” Chico said. “I gotta keep my eye on you. Next thing you know you’ll be coming for my spot,” he