蜜芽视频

鈥淰irtues at a Young Age鈥�

By Thomas Holloway

Opening my eyes, staring at the top bunk, the sounds of Curtis Mayfield and my uncle fucking in the back room flow through the entire apartment. As I crack a smile, my stomach begins to rumble. Standing up to stretch, my little brother stares right at me from the top bunk. “You hungry?” I ask. He nods his head.

Making my way to the kitchen, I see my mother leaning over the stove to light a joint. Opening the refrigerator, I feel my face frown at what it contains: a box of baking soda, mustard, and a half-head of lettuce. Noticing my face, my mother states, “You hungry, baby?”

“Naw Ma I’m good.” She narrows her eyes to look me in my face as she takes a deep pull on her joint.

“You got some money?” she asks with a serious tone, like she would slap the shit out of me if I lie.

I lie anyway. “Naw Ma.”

“Rosalee said she seen you at Aldi’s carrying bags.” That fat bitch! The moment I seen her I knew she would tell. Every day after school I walked to Aldi’s grocery store, which was about two miles from where I lived. I’d help customers carry groceries to their car. On a good day I’d make 6 or 7 dollars.

“You only 12 years old. Aldi’s too far for you to be walking. Plus your uncle Dolla has beef back that way.” My uncle Dolla was feared and respected by the whole westside; who he don’t have a beef with? “I know Ma. I’ll be careful.”

“Go to the corner store and tell Wallah I said give you some food til the first.”

I return to my room, put my clothes on and my stash, which contained 30 or 40 dollars at all times. There’s no way I’m asking the Arabs, who own the corner store, for handouts. As I’m heading from the bathroom, my uncle Dolla sticks his head out of his bedroom door. “What up?”

“What’s up, unc?” He walks off and leaves the door half open for me to come in. Entering the room, it smells of weed and an intoxicating perfume.

My eyes lock in on the half-naked woman lying in his bed. The infamous Carmilla Cash, aka Milli. Respected, loyal, and about her money. The smoothness of her honey-brown skin glistens with every sunbeam that penetrates the blinds. “I hear you got good grades on your report card.”

“All As,” I reply, without taking my eyes off of Milli. As if she could sense I was staring, Milli opens her eyes and looks right at me.

I immediately put my head down, ashamed I’d gotten caught staring. My uncle’s going on and on about how school is. But all I want to do is look back up at Milli. I gather my courage to look back up for one more glance.

“What’s up, TJ?” Milli says as she smiles.

“What up, Milli?” She never makes an attempt to cover herself. I turn to my uncle, who had retrieved a wad of money from his pants pocket and piled me off 50 dollas.Thanks, unc.”

Just then Milli stands up, exposing every inch of her goddess-like body. We both watch, amazed at her flawless beauty, as she walks over to the crates of 45s to pick out an album. “Catch you later, unc.” Closing the door behind me, I let out a deep breath. Wow, I just seen Milli naked. I clutched my hand over my heart down the hallway, as if I was Fred Sanfot and it was the big one.

Reaching the front room, I see my mother’s high as hell, cleaning everything in sight. I pile her off 10 dollars. She plants a kiss on my cheek. “You goin’ be just like your uncle Dolla. Keep you some money and a bitch. I heard about your little girlfriend down the street.” I just smile and shut the door.

Entering the hallway, my face immediately frowns from the overwhelming odor of piss. I lean over the rail and see wino Pete sprawled out on the next landing. Easing my way down the stairs, I stand directly over him. “Pete! Pete!” He doesn’t move. I look around to see if anyone’s watching. Reaching down, I turn both his pockets inside out. Nothing, not even some change. I hate his ass always getting drunk and pissing in our hallway. “Pete! Pete! Get yo’ drunk as up!” I yelled. He just groans and waves me off. I step back and kick him hard as I could in his ribs. He yells out in pain as I run and jump down a half flight of stairs, laughing.

I stop at the bottom landing, tentatively listening to every voice on the other side of the door. Walking slowly, I peer through one of the bullet holes in the glass. I survey the surroundings: it seems ok to step out. All the parked cars make the street look like a car show. Dolla’s Benz and Milli’s Corvette stand out. It’s more heavy hitter out here than usual; something going on.

“What’s up, lil TJ?”

“What up, Murder?”

“Dolla Up?”

“Naw.” Everyone shake their head. I grab my bike from the gangway and head to the store.

Most would say growing up in an environment like the one described above automatically puts one at a disadvantage. And I would agree. I also would agree that this same environment, however destitute of resources and dangerous, can provide advantages. I was instilled virtues at a young age undescribed by Plato and Aristotle, like fortitude, resilience, ambition, creativity, just to name a few.

Often times we have to shed out child-like innocence for these virtues in order to survive our environment. Some of my fondest memories are not my first kiss, or when I learned to ride a bike. It was being able to provide or help my family when it was needed. In my narrative, I described how there wasn’t any food, but I had money to buy some. I was 12 and problem solving, being ambitious. It is these outer circumstances, combined with my virtues, that has allowed my inner growth to flourish, in turn producing the man I am today.