Up at the College by Michele Andrea Bowen

talking about,” Mr. Tommy said, and scratched at his head for a moment. “I
     almost blew my cover and told them that I hoped they took some rolled-up newspaper with them when they met up those gals.
     ’Cause they were going to need plenty of it when those mutts started acting like the untrained dogs in heat they were, and
     the only thing that would calm those heifers down was a hard tap on the nose with some newspaper.”
    At that point, Curtis doubled over with laughter and almost fell out of his chair. He said, “Mr. Tommy is crazy.”
    “Yeah,” Maurice added, “Mr. Tommy knows he is on some different stuff. Who knew that ho’in’ had gotten so organized and high-tech?”
    “I hear you, man,” Curtis added. “I just wish Kordell and Castilleo were as serious and organized about their jobs as they
     are about planning those ho junkets they are always running off to.”
    “Question,” Yvonne said. “Why did Castilleo’s mama and daddy name him that? It is way too fancy for a lil’ broke negro running
     around Durham County thinking he’s a bona fide pimp. Y’all feeling me on that one?”
    “Yeah, we are definitely feeling you on that one, Cuz,” Maurice said. “Because I can’t imagine why anybody would want to name
     their child
Castilleo
.”
    “You’re right on that one, baby,” Trina seconded. “Because even Metro Mitchell and Dayeesha Hamilton’s children don’t have
     names like that.”
    “They sure don’t,” Yvonne said.
    “They may not have names like that,” Maurice began, “but still, I’m kinda scared to find out what their names are. We are
     talking about Metro and Dayeesha, right?”
    “Their names are Joseph, Jeremiah, and Jeneene,” Yvonne told them evenly.
    “We really are in the last days,” Curtis said. “’Cause those names are relatively normal.”
    “They have middle names, too,” Yvonne replied with a big grin on her face.
    “And I can surmise that you know what those names are,” Curtis said, now curious about the middle names and how Yvonne came
     across this information. She was good and that scared him a bit. Made Curtis wonder what she knew about him—even though he
     wasn’t so sure he really wanted to ask her that question.
    “Yep.”
    “And they are?”
    “Joseph Crayshawn, Jeremiah Crentwan, and Jeneene Crystawn.”
    “Whew,” Curtis said, as if in sheer relief. “Just when I thought that the predictability of everyday life was in jeopardy,
     I discover that all is well after all. Crayshawn, Crentwan, and Crystawn. I can sho’ sleep good tonight.”
    “Yes, Lawd,” Maurice stated. “Dayeesha had me scared there for a moment with those first names. I was on my way to Kroger
     to take the baby to the hospital to get her ghetto-fabulous genes checked out until I heard the middle names.”
    “I love Dayeesha Hamilton,” Trina said with a hearty laugh. “That baby is definitely cut from the same cloth as her daddy.”
    “Who is Dayeesha’s daddy?”
    Trina, Maurice, and Curtis all looked at Yvonne like she had just told them she wanted to be Kordell Bivens’s new boo.
    “What? Why y’all looking at me like that?”
    “I cannot believe that your retarded butt don’t know who Dayeesha’s daddy is. She looks just like him. Don’t look a thing
     like her mama. The mama is a little underweight, brown-skinned woman. And Dayeesha is kind of red and thick just like her
     daddy,” Trina said, shaking her head. Sometimes she didn’t know where Yvonne’s head was. Probably stuck down in a bucket of
     paint, trying to make sure it was the perfect shade of lemon yellow, avocado, or pumpkin.
    “Okay, Dayeesha’s daddy is short, thick, and red. Does he also have three-inch nails with tiny silk-screened pictures of his
     grandbabies on each thumbnail?” Yvonne asked.
    “Pictures on the thumbnail? Who has pictures on their thumbnails?” Curtis inquired. “And where would a woman find someone
     who knew how to do that?”
    “Now