What's Really Hood! by Wahida Clark Page B

flip.”
    Crystal studied his expression, trying to detect a catch. “What’s that got to do with the motel?”
    “I figured you need a place to chill for a minute, you know? Room and board, yo… but it’s comin’ out of your check.” He smiled,
     making her want to stick her finger in his dimple.
    Crystal giggled. “So I work for you now?”
    “I don’t know, do you?”
    Crystal viewed her options, of which she had none, and replied, “Aiight, Wiz Kid. I’m down.”
    They shook hands and truly touched for the first time.
    Wiz reached under her seat and pulled out a small Ziploc with a few clips. He gave her one. “Beep me if you get hungry,” he
     said, and handed her the key.
    Crystal took the clip and the key, then opened the door.
    “Hold up,” Wiz told her, then reached into the backseat and handed her the outfit. “You forgot this.”
    Crystal looked at the outfit with a dazed expression.
    “I know you like it, yo, you picked it out yourself.” Wiz smiled, letting her know he had had it planned the whole time.
    She wanted to thank him, but her voice caught in her throat. She just took it and got out, feeling nothing but the weight
     of the gift in her arms.

THREE
    F or the next few weeks Wiz’s plan worked perfectly. He’d get someone to rent Crystal a car, she’d go to different spots to
     boost, then sell it to Wiz for her high. It kept her off the streets, but Wiz wasn’t really doing his part. He seldom sold
     the wares she stole. He gave them to his workers or kept them for himself. But then again, his point wasn’t to make money
     in the first place.
    His game was booming, and his product was moving. He kept in constant contact with Veronica in Harlem. He’d go over to buy
     his weight, slide by, bang her out, then get her to push it back to Jersey on the bus. It was a sweet setup, but Veronica
     was a strict uptown chick, and had a sweeter setup in mind. She paid close attention to the weight he was moving. So when
     he started picking up a kilo every two weeks, which was heavy for a spot nigguh in ’86, her conniving mind began to twirl.
    Crystal, on the other hand, knew she was being taken care of. Her monkey was being fed, and her womanly needs were being met,
     so she was content. Hell, she went shopping in the exclusive spots. ShortHills Mall for Liz Claiborne and Fendi, Secaucus, at the Gucci and Nike outlet. Not to mention Fashion Avenue, Canal Street,
     Macy’s and everywhere in between. The only difference was, she took what she wanted instead of paying for it. The rest of
     the time she and Wiz spent together. In the morning they usually had breakfast, then at night he’d come through with Chinese
     food, some weed and apple Boone’s Farm. Then they’d chill, get weeded and a little tipsy, getting more and more comfortable
     in each other’s presence.
    “Why do they call you Wiz?”
    “ ’Cause, when I did go to school, I was like, mad smart. I used to pass tests and shit wit’out studyin’.”
    “Why you drop out?”
    “Got bored and the streets was callin’.” He shrugged.
    He found out that Crystal had gone to college. She even had him thinking about going back to school. “At least for your GED
     and doing something constructive with your money. Put it to good use, Wiz. Buy some old houses and fix them up. Things ain’t
     always gonna be sweet,” she jeweled him.
    But the realest conversation they had was when he told her that his mother got high too. “That shit be fuckin’ me up, man.
     Knowin’ what that shit is about and I don’t be wantin’ to give it to her, but I don’t want her in the streets gettin’ it neither…
     I don’t know, it’s crazy,” Wiz mumbled, then glanced away.
    Crystal felt honored that he was doing the same for her as for the woman who had given him birth. Helooked back at her and asked, “Can I ask you somethin’? How you get fucked up with that shit?”
    Crystal was sitting Indian-style in the middle of the bed,