she was about. It made sense to me all of a sudden.
âYou turning tricks, ainât you?â I blurted out.
âAnd? You got a problem witâ it? I hope not, because itâs mad money doinâ it. I gets mines, Mouse, and I get plenty of it,â she justified the behavior.
âErica, Iâm no fuckinâ prostitute,â I exclaimed.
She looked at me sideways and came back with, âYou better be, because if you wanna stay here, then you gotta get that money out there on the streets witâ me.â
âWow, itâs like that?â I said pointedly.
âYes, Mouse, itâs like that. Look at you, you ainât got shit right now. You is broke bitch witâ nowhere to go, and Iâm being the friend I am because I got love for you. What, you turning ya nose up at me because you think itâs foul? You sucked dick before, right? You fucked niggas before, right? And you ainât had a problem doinâ it for free. So why all of a sudden a bitch gotta problem suckinâ and fuckinâ a nigga for that paper?â she frankly proclaimed.
Because it was disgusting, I thought. âAnd Cream, is he your pimp?â I asked.
âHe just looks out for me while Iâm on the street, thatâs all,â she said, sugarcoating his role.
âAnd what, he gets a large cut when you the one spreading your legs and opening wide?â I was being sarcastic.
âHe gets what he gets, okay!â she snapped at me. âYou either in or ya out, itâs ya choice, Mouse. Ainât nobody holding a gun to ya head.â
She might as well have been, because it felt like she was extorting me.
I found myself in a critical dilemma. I couldnât go back out there onto them cold streets with Eliza in my arms. It would have been suicidal. Tonight it was going to be fifteen degrees and tomorrow night they were predicting snow. Erica stood right there in front of me, waiting for my answer.
Why me? And was this it for me? Was this actually what my life had turned into?
âMommy,â I heard Eliza call out to me.
I turned around and she was standing in the hallway, wearing the new clothes Erica had bought for her and had dressed her in: Baby Phat pajama sleepwear that made my daughter look so cute. It was little things like that that was getting to me. Seeing my daughter in something nice that wasnât hand-me-downs. She was warm and she was fed. She was somewhere comfortable, to some extent.
Eliza came trotting over to me so I could blanket her with my motherly affection. I wrapped her in my arms and said, âWhatâs wrong, sweetie?â
She didnât say anything. She nestled her little head into my chest and only wanted me to hold her. And I did. As I held Eliza in my arms, I looked over at Erica, who was still standing there. She smirked and shrugged, waiting for my answer. With a steely glare focused on me, she said, âA mother would do anything to take care of her kids, I donât care what. My kids are good. I want yours to be too.â
I sighed heavily. She was right.
Chapter Six
Mouse
I was the last to exit the cab in front of a closed automobile /mechanic shop on Oak Point Avenue. It was nearing midnight, and I, Erica, and Cream were in the Hunts Point neighborhood in the South Bronx, an area dominated by industry, and considered a âRed Light District,â in many cases for its crime and prostitution. It also consisted primarily of older apartment buildings with a smaller number of semidetached multiunit row houses. It was a very dangerous area to be in after dark, suffering from crime and poverty for many years with many drug addicts and drug dealers residing in the dilapidated community, and here I was about to walk the track to flag down cars for a date.
Erica and I were both clad in Skhoop down miniskirts with insulation for sleek warmth, keeping ourselves warm with tights and winter boots. It was too cold out to try