Sonya crumpled up the note and threw it on the floor in disgust as she headed back to her bedroom. She thought that Tone should be introduced to the city of Baltimore gradually and carefully. Clearly he had other ideas. Despite Sonya’s best intentions, Tone was quickly turning his move to Baltimore into his own personal field trip.
Sonya sighed and decided to go back to bed. Her day had already gotten off to a bad start. Despite the great night she had last night, Sonya was having a rough morning. As she lay in the bed all she could do was replay last night’s sexual sequences. Sonya thought she was going to wake up to some morning sex. Obviously, now that wasn’t the case. Tone’s disappearance frustrated her. He was beginning to flash signs of the old Tone, her high school sweetheart who danced to the beat of his own drum. The person who did what he wanted, when he wanted, no questions asked.
Sonya wasn’t in the mood for Tone’s thoughtless behavior today. But she wasn’t in the mood to argue with him either. With no classes on her schedule for today, she decided to go back to sleep. Sleep usually prevented her from overreacting, saying or doing something she might later regret. It wasn’t like she could contact Tone and tell him to bring his ass back home. Neither he nor her cousin Stew had a pager. So there was no way to get in contact with them. They could be anywhere in the city, so Sonya nixed the idea of jumping in her car and riding around looking for them. She was forced to wait for Tone’s return, whenever that was.
Hopefully when she woke back up, he’d be home. Then they could go about their day.
The smoke filled burgundy Toyota Cressida maneuvered through the streets of East Baltimore. Stew hit the Philly blunt filled with weed until he had his fair share then offered Tone some. Tone declined the blunt. He wanted to stay focused and analyze everything around him. Getting high might cloud his judgment. Almost from the moment Tone arrived in Baltimore, he was all business. If it wasn’t about a dollar it didn’t make sense to him.
Riding around East Baltimore smoking weed wasn’t Tone’s idea of looking for blocks to hustle on. But for the time being he bit his tongue. Because if nothing else, the time he spent with Stew would give him a good idea of what he was all about. Stew could claim he was a hustler all he wanted. However, time would tell. He could show Tone better than he could tell him.
“I gotta make a stop yo,” Stew suddenly announced in between tokes.
“No problem,” Tone replied. “Do what you gotta do, kid.”
Shortly Stew arrived at his destination and parked his car. He tried to pass Tone the blunt, which he declined, having had his fair share of weed.
“You want some pussy, yo?” Stew questioned him. “I’m about to go knock on this broad’s door. She gotta sista, you could spit some of that New York game to her and probably fuck shorty.”
Because of his statement, Tone immediately became suspicious of Stew. He didn’t know if this was a trick question or if his girlfriend was using her cousin to set him up. The fact of the matter was, Tone just met this guy a few hours ago and he didn’t know whether to trust him or not. It was a point of principle for Tone not to mix business.
Tone began, “Yo, c’mon man….You know I’m fuckin’ wit’ ya cousin, right?”
Stew broke out into a grin. There was no clarification needed. Tone wasn’t with it and he had to respect that.
Tone wasn’t thirsty. He didn’t mind passing on a piece of pussy. To him it was a respect thing, Don’t eat where you shit. Besides, he knew if he got his drug dealing operation off the ground and he did his thing right, pussy wouldn’t be a problem. In fact, it comes with the territory. There was a time and a place for everything. Now wasn’t the time for this, and it certainly wasn’t the place.
“I don’t mean you no harm, yo. I know you my cousin’s boyfriend. But a man gone be a man. Variety is the spice of life. I just ain’t want you to feel left out when I go do my thing,” Stew explained.
Tone didn’t know it, but at the moment the contrast between the two men was clear. Stew wasn’t a go-getter he was more of a skirt chaser. He wasn’t who he projected himself to be in the conversation they had over the phone. All the talk of him being a hustler was starting to look like a façade. Another incident or two and Tone would officially relegate Stew into the category of being a clown who didn’t want to make money.
The car came to a stop on Ashland Avenue.
“Let me go handle my business real quick. I’ll be right back, yo,” Stew announced. “You’ll be alright out here right?”
“No question,” Tone told him. “I’m good in any hood.”
“I know I been bullshittin’ all mornin’,” Stew insisted as he exited the car. “But when I come back yo, we gone go find you a block to move that shit.”
“Word!” Tone remarked. “Now you talkin’.”
Tone watched as Stew quickly climbed the steps of a nearby row house and knocked on the door. After a brief pause the door was opened and Stew disappeared inside.
Time went by slowly. Tone sat in the car fiddling with the radio. Stew was taking longer than Tone thought. He grew bored and restless sitting in the car. Finally Tone got out the car and smoked a cigarette. As he did, Tone took notice of what was happening around him. He saw groups of people entering an alleyway, cars constantly pulling up and dropping people off,
