Free Tyrell by Coe Booth

but a thing. “We in business,” he say.
    â€œA’ight,” I say. “But for real, y’all gotta keep your shit outside.”
    They don’t say nothing, but I’ma make sure they don’t bring no drugs in my party. I do things right, I can make some good money like my pops was makin’. But I ain’t trying to go down like the man. Nah. I’ma hafta be smarter than him.

ELEVEN
    I only got a hundred fifty in my pocket when I leave the apartment, but least it’s something. Now I gotta get my shit together and find a place for the party. And I hafta make sure I make some money outta this. When my pops throw his parties, he be charging people like thirty dollars just to get in, then he make more money selling drugs and drinks. But I can’t charge kids that much. And I ain’t selling no drugs, that’s for damn sure.
    The snow is real bad now, and I don’t know how I’ma get back to Bennett. The cars on the street is sliding ‘round, and I don’t see no buses nowhere. I walk down the street trying to keep from busting my ass, which ain’t easy with sneakers on. And I’m still fucked up, which really ain’t helping none.
    When I pass the laundromat where Ms. Jenkins work at, I see her standing inside near the door looking out like she waiting for someone. I wave to her and try to keep on going, but she open the door and lean her head out. “Tyrell, come here a minute.”
    I stop and go back. “Hi, Ms. Jenkins.”
    â€œYou coming from seeing Novisha?” she ask. She forever making sure me and Novisha ain’t together when she ain’t ‘round.
    â€œNo, I was with Calvin and them ‘round the corner.”
    Ms. Jenkins give me a look like she think I’m up to something. “I hope you’re not getting yourself mixed up with them boys, Tyrell. You know what they do, right?”
    â€œYeah, I know, but you don’t gotta worry ‘bout me, Ms. Jenkins. I ain’t gonna do nothing stupid.”
    â€œGood,” she say, but I can tell she still not sure she can believe me. “Because you know where those boys are headed, right?”
    â€œI know,” I say. “But they don’t got a nice girlfriend like I do.” I smile ‘cause I know she like what I’m saying. “I ain’t gonna do nothing to mess things up with my girl.”
    â€œGood,” she say again. She stare at me for another couple seconds, and I start to get nervous. Damn, I hope she can’t tell I’m high. Then she say, “Can you help me with some bags? I’m closing up early here, and I have a lot of groceries to take home. My husband was supposed to pick me up, but I don’t know where he is. I guess the snow is holding him up.”
    I go inside and wait while she turn off all the lights and lock the back door. She got six plastic bags on the floor with all kinds of food inside. She got turkey wings, collard greens, yams, and all kinda stuff. “You making Thanksgiving dinner or something?” I ask.
    She laugh. “You know how I do on Sundays, Tyrell. I should invite your mother and brother over sometimes.”
    â€œYeah, my moms would like that. And Troy too. That boy can eat. You should see how big he getting.”
    â€œAlright. Let me plan something. It would be nice to see your mother again.”
    I can tell she just saying that to be nice, ‘cause the truth is, them two don’t really got that much to talk ‘bout. When we used to live in the projects, my moms and Ms. Jenkins ain’t hardly said more than two words to each other. They was living in like two different worlds. They ain’t start conversating ‘til me and Novisha started going out, and that was mostly by phone.
    I pick up four of them heavy-ass bags, two in each hand, and leave her the two light ones. We go outside, and she lock up the front of the laundromat and pull down the metal