After spending two months in Columbia, South Carolina, Bruce and his family finally returned to New York. The trip was productive, as Bruce had put together all the money he owed Chilly. Naturally, it took longer than it should have, because as soon as they made the money, they would smoke up half of it. When they came through the door, Brandy went straight to her room and closed the door. Bruce and Natalie went to their bedroom.
The first order of business was to call Chilly so Bruce could bring him his money. However, each time he called, Bruce was told that Chilly was unavailable. This made him nervous. He was always able to talk to Chilly whenever he needed to. He even tried to call Chilly at home. He talked to Chilly’s wife, Gee, but she hadn’t seen him since he left the house that morning.
Bruce paced nervously around the bedroom of the house his father left him. “What’s wrong, Bruce?” Natalie asked as she got undressed. She took off her bra and put on her nightshirt.
“This is the fifth time I called Chilly and muthafuckas keep feedin’ me this unavailable shit,” Bruce answered.
“Maybe he don’t care about the money no more.”
“That’s what worries me, Nat. If Chilly don’t want the money no more, then Chilly’s gonna want something else. I told you we were fuckin’ around down there too damn long. We shoulda came back when we had all the money the first time, but your ass had to start smokin’ it up.”
“Me? I seem to remember you were there smokin’ right along with me, so don’t give me this shit about me smokin’ it up.”
“So, it wasn’t you beggin’ me to re-up so we could have a little piece to do? You know, just you and me. That wasn’t you?”
“You coulda said no.”
“And even if I did just say no, how many nights did I come back after being out all night making money and find you down in Grandma’s basement smokin’ up whatever your searchin’ ass could find?”
“Well, you shouldn’t have left it there for me to find!”
“Who the fuck you yellin’ at?”
“I’m not yellin’. I’m just sayin’ if it wasn’t there, I couldn’t smoke it. You shoulda took the shit out the house with you.”
“If that ain’t the stupidest shit I ever heard!”
Natalie got quiet when Bruce started yelling.
“What I look like out in the street with all the dope on me? An easy-ass mark, waitin’ to get his ass robbed or killed!”
“Well, maybe you shoulda just left me a little piece to hit on. Then I wouldn’t have to go searchin’.”
“I guess you don’t remember we tried that one night. And what did you do? Huh? What did you do? Your ass went searching though the house, tearin’ shit up until you fuckin’ found it!”
“What you expect me to do? That little shit you left me!” Natalie screamed.
“Fuck this. This shit ain’t gettin’ us nowhere, Nat. I just need to get this nigga his money before he sends somebody after us.”
“Us? What the fuck you mean us?”
“Us means you and me, Nat. Like it or not, we in this together. He come after me, he come after you too.”
“Does that include Brandy?”
Bruce thought about the question. He walked over to the window and looked out. Everything that his aunts and Me’shelle told him about getting Brandy away from the life he was living came rushing home. “I guess it does.” He started down the hall to tell Brandy to pack her shit; she was going to stay with Me’shelle.
“That’s fucked up. How you gonna drag us into your shit? That’s too fucked up, Bruce. I’m gonna need a little hit to take my mind off this shit,” Natalie said.
Bruce looked at Natalie for a second or two. He wanted a hit too. He went to get his stash out of the closet. He took out a box that contained two pipes and his cooking paraphernalia, and went in the bathroom. Natalie got up and followed him.
Bruce opened the box and pulled out a test tube, a single-edge razor blade, and a $25 bag of cocaine.
“Pretty skimpy quarter,” Natalie commented.
“Not much cut on it,” he replied, lifting a box of baking soda and a rolled dollar bill from the box. He laid the bill on the counter and emptied the contents of the bag onto it. “You wanna cook?”
“No.”
Bruce paused and looked in her direction, chopping lightly. “Nothing but a habit, huh?” Bruce laughed. “Maybe Me’shelle’s right. Maybe I do need to snatch the pipe out your mouth and slap you upside your head.”
“Fuck Me’shelle’s wannabe-a-saint ass,” Natalie said as Bruce shook a little baking soda onto the dollar then mixed it in with the razor.
Bruce lit a candle. A teaspoon of water followed the mix into the test tube. Bruce held the tube over fire, watching carefully as it began to sizzle. He moved the tube away from the fire, poured in a little more water and shook the test tube. “Me’shelle said she was datin’ some nigga.”
“Nobody wants Me’shelle’s think-she’s-so-fuckin’-smart ass. Not after they fuck her anyway. She’s so smart until she’s stupid,” Natalie said, taking a pipe from the box and adjusting the screens.
“She’s smart enough to know this shit gonna kill us or get us killed. Maybe we should try to get off this shit.” Bruce poured the water slowly out of the test tube into a strainer. He placed the white rock of cocaine on a small mirror and sat on the edge of the tub. “Came back nice for a skimpy quarter.”
Natalie didn’t comment. She picked up the razor blade and cut off a piece of the rock. “Got any torches?”
“No,” he said, breaking the rest of the rock into smaller pieces. Bruce took the other pipe out of the box. “Use a lighter.”
“No. I don’t like the way it tastes.”
Bruce put a piece of the rock in the pipe. He took a quick hit to light it then pushed a lighter in front of her. “Even if we did have torches, we don’t have anything to burn with except rubbing alcohol, and I know you don’t like the taste of that.”
Reluctantly, Natalie picked up the lighter and lit her pipe. She watched the bowl of the pipe fill up with smoke. She paused a moment and thought about Brandy before lighting the pipe again.
Bruce and Natalie stayed in the bathroom smoking for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. Bruce made several trips back to the closet to raid his stash until it was gone.