Copyright ©2020 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved.
No part of this chronicle may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.
It was 5:08 p.m. when we pulled away from Knockout Sports Bar. “Sway, I still haven’t seen the new ‘Bad Boys’ movie. You down?”
“I would love that!” She beamed. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to the movies.”
“Here.” I handed her my phone. “Check and see what time it’s showing. I usually go to the Cinepolis.”
“That’s expensive.”
“Will you stop counting my money, woman?”
Sway laughed. “Hold on…”
“That reminds me, I have to score some more shit real soon. I’m getting low.”
“Ooh, are you getting a lot?”
“Just a half.”
“Half a kilo?”
I chuckled. “Fuck no!”
Sway stared blankly. “I thought you would like…buy a whole thing.”
“I never keep more than I can flush down a toilet.”
“I guess that makes sense… I thought dealers bought big amounts.”
“And they get caught up, too. I’m not trying to be that guy. I’m taking my time.”
“But don’t you save money when you buy in bulk?”
“Yeah, I may pay more now, but imagine trying to get rid of half a bird when your door is being kicked in. How much of a loss would that be?”
“I see what you’re saying. That’s way smarter.” She looked to the screen. “Okay… We have plenty of time. The next one starts at 6:15.”
“Perfect, we don’t have to rush.”
Sway jogged through the radio stations. “I like this, Andre.” It was Selena Gomez’s ‘Lose You To Love Me’. Sway joined in, muttering the lyrics.
“Let me hear what you got.”
“Right now?”
“Sure.”
“Okay…” She cleared her throat, focused, and came in on the next verse. Sway was pitch-perfect. I listened until the end. She turned to me. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?! You’re incredible, Sway! You actually can sing! Wow!”
“Really, Andre?”
“I got fucking chills. Baby, you can make it for sure! Believe that!”
“I need some work, though.”
“Sway. That’s okay. All singers need work.”
We’d parked on the second floor in the garage from the Victory Park street entrance, finding an empty spot in a corner.
We’d exited the elevator on the seventh floor.
After purchasing our tickets, we still had about thirty minutes to kill. We took a couple of seats at the bar and ordered drinks.
Sway looked at me, smiling. “Just because I ordered a root beer didn’t mean you had to. You can get whatever you want.”
“Nah, I’m good.” She leaned over, placing a kiss on my lips.
Our seats were in the first row. When fully reclined, it was as if we were next to each other in bed.
Sway looked over to me. “So… What did you want to do when you were young?” She whispered. “I’m sure it wasn’t to be a dope boy.”
“I had the idea of being a football player, a running back. I went out for the team and quit the first day of practice.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I got hit so fucking hard, I woke up on the bench looking up at the coaches and the trainers. Motherfuckers kept asking me if I was okay and telling me to shake it off.” Sway was beet red in tears, laughing. “When I finally got to my feet, I removed the pants, cleats, shoulder pads, and all the rest of that shit and left it right there. I never looked back.
“My English teacher thought that I could be a writer or a journalist. I’m pretty good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I won awards. I would have had to have gone to college, but I’d made up my mind that I was never going to put myself in that kind of debt. That’s a ripoff. All that for a job starting at fourteen or fifteen dollars an hour. It would take me nearly seven years to pay that shit off, all while living in poverty. Fuck that.
“I’m going to be my own boss and start my own business one day.”
“Like what?”
“I’m not sure yet. I was thinking about a restaurant, but it’s hard to make it in that.
“I’m leaning more towards auto detailing. Maybe start with a van and do mobile at first. Then I can get a shop. From there, I can get some contracts for industrial vehicles like trucks and tractor-trailers.”
Sway moved closer. “I really like that idea.”
“That’s my top choice… I don’t want to be in this dope game forever.” I looked to Sway. “The way you can sing, though, maybe we should build a recording studio.”
“We, Andre?”
Creole Gaudet
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