The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [80]
“No, they not, ma,” Zyir said confidently. Seeing her so weak hit a soft spot with him.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m your bulletproof, remember?” He nudged her shoulder gently, trying to make her smile.
She wiped her face and smirked slightly. “Sorry about that comment.”
“It’s nothing, shorty, but for real, if you want to make it through this war, you got to be just as smart as the mu’fuckas gunnin’ for you. Don’t be the weak link, ma. If you wanna go somewhere, all you got to do is call. I’ll take you, ’cuz, believe me, a nigga ain’t murking me.”
“Thank you, Zyir,” she said graciously as her curly hair blew with the ocean-misted wind.
“You’re welcome, beautiful.”
“Oh, so you think I’m beautiful?” Breeze grinned as she put her sunglasses back over her eyes.
Zyir shook his head and grabbed her hand to lead her back to the car. “You still trying to throw this party, or you gon’ be smart and play it safe?”
“I trust you. I don’t want to put my family in danger.”
“Well, let me put you up on some new shit, something that will occupy your time.” He hopped into the passenger seat and said, “Take me to the nearest bookstore.”
Breeze and Zyir spent the entire day together. He took her to Borders and introduced her to reading, which was a pastime that she never had.
The most that Breeze ever did was flip through the pages of fashion magazines, but Zyir spoke about African American literature as if she were missing out on something. His obvious passion for reading was intriguing. He piqued her interest as he spoke fervently about authors such as James Baldwin, Langston Hughes, and Alice Walker. He even put her up on street fiction, starting her out on Donald Goines and then suggesting street writers like Ashley JaQuavis, Keisha Ervin, and Sister Souljah. Breeze had never met anyone like Zyir. He was intelligent, honest, and most importantly, she felt safe when they were together. She trusted him with her life, and she had just met him.
“What am I going to do with all these books? I can’t read them all today. Maybe I should come back for some later,” Breeze said, almost intimidated by the stack of books that were piling up in her hands.
“I’m-a tell you like Carter told me. Start at the beginning and work your way through until you’ve read them all. You’ve got to feed your brain, ma. Don’t let these crackers hide shit from you within these pages. That’s how they keep our minds imprisoned. That’s why I said there is nothing more unattractive than a dumb chick,” he said. “I’m surprised Carter ain’t gave you that speech yet. The nigga stay grilling me and I ain’t even his family.”
Breeze laughed. “Well, that’s a conversation that I can avoid having because you’ve already taught me. I guess I’ll take them all then.”
Zyir purchased all of the books for Breeze, and when it was time for her to go, she was reluctant to go back home. “I had a good time today,” she said.
“Me too, ma, me too.”
“I just feel like I finally have someone I can talk to, you know? My brothers are all about this war, and I sort of get lost in the sauce. This was nice.”
“I better get you back.”
Breeze shook her head in protest and smiled. “You bought me all these books and now you gon’ leave me hanging? You know I might need you there to help me get through some of these big words, you know, since you think I’m dumb and all.”
“First impressions are sometimes wrong. I misjudged you.”
“So tonight is not over yet?” she asked as she stepped into her car.
“Nah, shorty, it ain’t over. We can kick it at my place.”
Zyir told her his address, and twenty minutes later, they were pulling up in front of the building.