Christmas in the Hood (14 page)

“Hey, everybody,” she called out to barbers and clients alike.

“What’s up, Noelle,” a couple of the clients replied.

“Hey, girl,” Terrence greeted her.

“Yo, T, my boy came by and dropped off a couple shirts. They go for ninety in the stores, but he’s selling them for fifty.” Noelle came up with the lie at the spur of the moment. It gave her a good sound reason for having boosted clothing.

Terrence set his clippers down and took the shirts Noelle pulled out of her gym bag.

“Yo, I been lookin’ for this shirt. That’s what’s up.” Terrence reached in his pocket and handed Noelle a crisp fifty-dollar bill.

“I’ll take the other one,” Terrence’s client said as he peeled off a few bills for her.

“When you gonna have more stuff, Noelle?” Terrence asked. “These shirts been flyin’ off the shelves, yo. I’m surprised your boy managed to even get two of ’em.”

“I’ll talk to him later,” she replied. “I’ll see if I can get more stuff to bring in tomorrow.”

Just that fast, in a matter of twenty-six minutes to be exact, she had made one hundred dollars.

Now all she needed to do was steal nineteen thousand, nine hundred more dollars’ worth of merchandise. What the fuck?

Chapter Eight

P
aris wrapped her black wool scarf around her neck. It seemed the weather had gotten colder since earlier that morning. Or maybe it was just her heart that had grown colder. She didn’t think her friends at school had to worry about whether or not
this was the day that their mother would never come home again. She wanted to cry so badly, but she blinked back the tears.

Noelle had told her to go back to bed, but Paris had listened to everything from the top of the stairs. She knew her mother owed somebody a lot of money. She was so upset that her mother would risk everything for drugs. It hurt mostly because Paris thought she had been clean. It was all a lie. That’s all her mother knew how to do—lie.

Paris didn’t know what she would do without her sister, Noelle. Her mother sure didn’t take care of her or pick her up from school. But there was Noelle waiting for her across the street, like clockwork.

“Hey, baby girl, how was school?”

“It was okay,” Paris replied. “How was your day?”

Noelle thought about the shirts she had boosted. She most certainly wasn’t going to tell Paris about that. She didn’t need to know about the twenty-thousand-dollar debt. Truth be told, Noelle didn’t know why she was worried about it either. She hadn’t taken the money. Her mother had. Yet still she felt some crazy unexplainable sense of obligation to help with the bullshit. Maybe somewhere deep down she didn’t want her mother to die, even though she was on a definite path to self-destruction.

“My day was fine,” she replied.

“How’s Mom? Have you talked to her?”

“I tried to call, but she didn’t answer.”

Paris shook her head and sighed.

“We aren’t going to get her back this time, are we?”

“I don’t know, Paris.”

The rest of the ride was filled with silence. Noelle finally
turned on the radio to Magic 95.9 FM. At least the DJ’s voice was better than the silence in the car. Neither sister thought too deeply with the distraction.

Noelle pulled into the driveway and cut the ignition. She wondered if her mother was even home. She wasn’t chained to the bed, even though Noelle had thought about it before she left.

“Homework today?” she asked as they got out of the car and climbed the porch stairs.

“It’s Friday Noelle.”

“Paris, do you have homework?”

“I did all of it already except start on my book for my book report. It’s not due until we come back from Christmas break, though.”

Noelle unlocked the front door and ushered Paris inside. The girl had a tendency to stop all action when she thought she had to talk herself out of trouble.

“Well, at least start on the book today so you can get a head start. Christmas will be over before you know it.”

“Yes ma’am,
Scroogette.
”

Paris flew past Noelle and headed to the kitchen for something to eat as most kids did right after school.

That’s when Noelle noticed the smell in the air. She distinctly smelled the cologne Eternity. She worked around so many men every day she could identify most fragrances.

“Wait a minute, Paris,” Noelle called out, but it was too late. She spotted the two men in the kitchen just as Paris ran in there.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Paris stopped abruptly and stared at the men. She hadn’t heard
anything when she came into the kitchen, yet there sat two men eating pretzels and drinking sodas.

“You must be Paris,” Carlos said approvingly. The little girl was beautiful. She looked like Roberta’s former self.

“Yes. And who the hell are you?” Paris asked, sounding quite indignant for her eleven years.

“What are you doing here?” Noelle asked breathlessly. She came up behind Paris and placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders in a protective gesture. She had a bad feeling, and she was willing to bet it was all because of her mother.

“Well, it seems, Noelle, that you and I have some business to take care of,” Carlos informed her.

“What business? What are you talking about? And how did you get in here?”

“Your dearly departed mother let us in,” he replied smugly.

“Dearly departed,” Noelle repeated in horror. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

She guided Paris toward the stairs and yelled for their mother. She heard a few movements and was almost relieved, except a huge man came bounding down the stairs. She called for her mother again, but got no answer.
Dearly departed?

“Mom, Mom,” Carlos mimicked. “She is up there, but I’m afraid she overdosed about an hour ago.”

Noelle’s hand flew to her mouth in shock, and Paris pressed against her even closer. Noelle’s eyes filled with tears, and she willed herself to talk.

“She was a fucking junkie,” Carlos said with a sneer. “Don’t waste your tears.”

“Why are you still here?”

“I told you, we have business. Your mother owes me twenty-two thousand, three hundred dollars. Now that she’s dead,
you
owe me that money.”

Noelle’s heart fell to the pit of her stomach. What the fuck was she going to do? At that moment she wished that she could resuscitate her mother just to kill her again.

“And to make sure you pay up, I’ve decided to take some insurance.” Carlos snatched Paris from Noelle’s grasp.

Noelle reached out for her sister, but it was too late. The man who had eaten their ice cream took Paris from Carlos and tried to subdue her.

“Let me go,” Paris screamed as she kicked and clawed at the man. He was way too strong. It was like kicking a brick wall.

“This one has fire in her,” Carlos said, and laughed. “She isn’t anything like her mother.”

“Leave her alone,” Noelle shouted. Tears slid down her cheeks, and her entire body shook with fear. “I’ll get you the money, but only if you’ll leave her here with me.”

Carlos shook his head and smiled. He pulled out a 9 mm semiautomatic and caressed Noelle’s right cheek with the tip of it.

Noelle wished like hell she could get to the straight razor that she kept in her purse. Then just maybe Carlos wouldn’t be having such an enjoyable time.

“You
will
pay me my money, and I
will
keep the girl until you do. Now whether she lives or dies is going to be completely up to you.”

Noelle let out a sob. “I’m begging you,” she pleaded.

“Let’s go,” Carlos told his men. They moved toward the front
door with Paris. “Christmas Eve, Noelle. You have until Christmas Eve, or the girl is dead.”

Carlos closed the door behind him, and Noelle ran to the window. She could hear Paris’s screams. She turned when the front door opened again.

Carlos stuck his head back in and looked at her. “I almost forgot. No police, or the girl dies.” The door closed again.

Moments later Noelle watched as the minivan pulled off, and she memorized the license plate number. She then took the stairs two at a time and found her mother nude and lifeless on the bathroom’s cold blue-and-white tile floor.

Sitting like a beacon on her mother’s chest was an off-white business card with Carlos’s name and phone number.

Bastard!

Falling to her knees, Noelle felt for a pulse on the side of her mother’s neck. A deep wave of sorrow washed over her. She put her head in her hands and sobbed, rocking back and forth. After about fifteen minutes of crying, a voice in her head instructed:
“Pull it together, Noelle, and think!”

Shakily, Noelle took a deep breath then stood up. She had to call an ambulance. Then, as soon as they took her mother away, she had to figure out a way to get Carlos’s money. Paris’s life depended on it.

Chapter Nine

I
f the police and the medics thought Noelle was a bit impatient, they didn’t comment on it. They had chalked her behavior up to the fact that she had found her mother overdosed in the bathroom. They thought she was in shock.

She answered all of their questions as if she were on autopilot. Her mind was focused on just one thing: Paris. She didn’t even know if her sister was being fed. It was dinnertime, and Paris wouldn’t be home to eat. She prayed to God that her sister wouldn’t go hungry.

Once the last police officer had left the house, Noelle pulled Carlos’s business card out of her back jeans pocket and dialed the number. He answered on the third ring.

“It’s dinnertime, and Paris needs to eat. How do I know you’re taking care of her? Can’t you let her come home? I’ll still get you your money.”

“I’m not stupid, Noelle. She had a burger and fries. Don’t worry about the cost of food. I’ll pick up the tab. She’ll be fine until Christmas Eve. But the clock is ticking.”

Noelle hung up and grabbed her purse and keys. She had to get downtown. She didn’t have a lot of time. She would have to boost a lot of merchandise for some quick cash. She was sorry about her mother, but she loved her sister more. Carlos wouldn’t get the opportunity to harm Paris. If that meant resorting to stealing, then so be it. She would do what she had to do.

Noelle parked downtown and deposited quarters in the parking meter before she remembered it was after six p.m. The meters were free after six. She had one client’s hair to twist, and then she was hitting the mall. She decided to steal more men’s clothing and bring it to the barbershop. Hell, she would sell to anyone who would buy.

She waited thirty minutes for her client to show up. After he was officially thirty-one minutes late, she left and headed to the mall. She thought it was good that it was the end of the day because people would be tired of working and ready to go home. Noelle counted on that to help her get past the sales-people.

As she parked in the garage she thought about what stores she would hit first. She wouldn’t bother to pay for a funeral for her mother. Hell, the state could bury her. She didn’t give a fuck. The only thing on her mind was trying like hell to get the money to bring her sister home.

The first clothing store she approached was completely empty, and the sales associates stood directly in the center of the store talking. Then like clockwork they started going through each rack to check for loose hangers.

The second store she stopped at looked like a much easier mark. One employee left the store to go on break, which left one cashier on the floor. Like her first experience that afternoon downtown, there was a man trying to pick up the female cashier.
Perfect
, she thought.

Before long, Noelle had two shirts, a watch, and three bottles of cologne in her bag. They were all expensive items, so that was good. Her spirits were dampened, however, when she thought
about the amount of stuff she would have to steal in order to reach her goal.

She would have to first sell nearly everything in her house and her car for starters. That would get her a few thousand dollars. Her credit wasn’t good enough to get a loan for that amount of money, so Noelle would have to hustle and hustle hard.

There had to be a better way to get her hands on twenty grand before Christmas Eve.

Chapter Ten

W
orking until the wee hours of the morning, Noelle gathered all the salable items from her house and put them in the dining room. Every television, radio, and DVD player would be sold. Even pieces of jewelry that she thought would fetch a price went into Ziploc bags. With her last bit of energy she took the clothing from her mother’s closet, along with all their leather coats, and hefted all of those items onto the pile.

At some point she must have dozed off because the sun shining through the living room window woke her up. When she checked the clock on the wall she realized she had missed teaching her aerobics class. She couldn’t muster the energy to care. Her mother was dead, and her sister had been kidnapped. Aerobics wasn’t a high priority right now. Her priorities were to get down-town—since stores would open in less than an hour—and steal as much as she could. Every little bit of money would add up.

Noelle zipped her bulky black winter coat halfway up. It wasn’t so cold outside that a goose down coat was warranted, but she could get away with it because it was December. She figured that she could stuff clothing down her coat, and the bulkiness would conceal it all. She was going to find out momentarily as she walked down Howard Street toward one of the hottest stores in Baltimore, Longevity. Anything that was hot on the street was sold at that store, and most often hot meant designer lines.

She took a deep breath then entered the store. The motorcycle in the middle of the floor was a definite showpiece, as were the crocodiles in a tank on the side wall. The store screamed exclusivity.

Noelle saw a few men in the back, but they really didn’t pay her any attention. They were trying to do something at the crocodile tank, feed the crocs, perhaps.

She picked up a few A. Tiziano shirts and shoved them down her coat. Next were a couple of Ed Hardy hats that carried hefty price tags. The hats were one-of-a-kind designs, and men loved them. Just as she was about to reach for another batch of shirts, one strong hand grabbed her arm and spun her around and another strong hand unzipped her coat. Shirts and hats fell at her feet.