Read Online Crackhead by Lisa Lennox - Free Book Online Page A

side, while he opened the driver’s door. Inside the car, the hustler opened the glove box and pulled out a brown paper bag. He handed it to Wayne.
    Wayne opened the bag and saw a shiny .32. He stroked the pistol inside the bag. He didn’t dare pull it out on the Ave. likethat. He could feel the hammer singing to him as his finger stroked the metal. He sat there like a deer caught in headlights, admiring the pistol.
    â€œThink you can work with that?” the dealer asked.
    â€œHell yeah,” Wayne said, snapping out of his daze. “I’ll bring it right back when I’m done.”
    â€œNah, it’s yours now. You keep it. And just remember, if anything happens, forget where you got it.”
    â€œWord?” Wayne said, smiling and rocking his head. “Thanks, man, I owe you for real.”
    â€œHell yeah, you owe me, and I plan to collect,” the dealer said. “Where you live, yo?”
    â€œI’ll connect with you right back here in a couple of days,” Wayne said, ignoring the question.
    â€œThat’s cool. I feel that,” the dealer said, smiling at Wayne, who was acting like Santa had just brought him exactly what he had asked for on his Christmas list. “Damn, you do look just like a Smurf.”
    â€œI’ll be that,” Wayne said. “I’ll be a Smurf all day long, just as long as I got the heat.”
    The dealer reached into the backseat and grabbed a book. He began to flip through the pages. “You read, Smurf?”
    â€œNah,” he said, tucking the bag under his shirt.
    â€œYou ever heard of the Dutchman?”
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThe Dutchman—Lucio Dutch.”
    â€œNah, who is that?”
    â€œDamn, Smurf. You got a lot to learn.” The dealer loved to read, and he passed books on to people he knew didn’t read but needed to. “Here, read this,” he said, handing Wayne the book.“I want you to read a few pages and tell me what you think the next time I see you.”
    â€œI don’t want to read no book,” Wayne protested. “Ain’t nobody got time for all that.”
    â€œYou ain’t got no money for that burner, either,” the dealer reminded him. Wayne had no response. “All right then,” the dealer continued. “Read a couple of pages and catch up with me.”
    â€œCool,” Wayne said, giving him some dap. Wayne opened the car door to exit, but he paused and looked at the dealer. “In case I don’t see you around and I need to ask if anyone’s seen you, who do I say I’m looking for?”
    â€œThe name is Dink. Just mention your name, and they’ll know to hit me up. And remember, from this point on you’re Smurf, but don’t worry; I’ll be here. You just show up and tell me about what you read.”
    â€œI got it. Don’t you worry. Smurf will be here,” Wayne said, getting out of the car and closing the door behind him. “Oh yeah, by the way, I didn’t just wake up one day and decide that I wanted to be a killer.” He paused. “I was born one.”
    Dink nodded with respect as Smurf walked away.
    AFTER COPPING THE piece, Smurf wandered around the hood, hopped the train, and rode it for a couple of hours. Having collected his thoughts and calmed his anger, he headed home to check on his mother and prepared for what he planned on doing with his new gat. As soon as he walked through the door, she threw her arms around him.
    â€œDammit, boy. Where have you been? It’s almost eleven o’clock. I been worried sick. I thought you done ran out here and done something stupid,” she said frantically.
    â€œI’m all right, Mom. I didn’t do nothin’ stupid.”
    His mother sat him down on the living room couch and tried to continue quizzing him about his whereabouts, but he only fed her lies. Finally she gave up. Smurf sat there and watched her down a bottle of rum. She