Day VII

A pack a smokes

     “How much monies y’all gots? I asked.

     “Waaa at ya tinks we kin pays fo alla det shit. Dem folks clothes, and shit too!"

     “No man, we should git us a pack a smokes, mebbe a sody, and stay ina pak fo a while. We don't wanna be seen wound hea. Dem mofoes gon be coming down hea in all directions looking fo us. We needs ta gits losted
foda day man, da whole damned day long, ya dig?"

     “Na detta be cool, dude, weal cool!”

    We dug into our pockets.

     “I gots a kotah, man!” Joe said.

     “Damn mofo, ya neva gots no money!” James said as he pulled out seventy cents.

     “I gots me nine two cents.” I said, as I pulled out my change.

     All in all we had enough for a large bottle of coke, a pack of cigarettes, and some Twizzlers. We were still kids, so we got some candy too. Then we headed to St. Mary's, the only park in the area, found a nice empty bench, and sat down.

     “Hey man anybody asks, we sez we wuzn’t up on no woof, ya dig!” Joe said.

     “Hail, we ain’t even bin ina hood, yo.” Jimmy added.

     “No doubt!” I smiled.

     “Diz be sewious biz, man, we gots nathan tabee smiling or laffing bout, dude!” Joe scolded me.

     “Sorieeeeee! I’m jest agreeing witcha is all, ya na.”

     “So we’s bin hea alla damned day long, wite!”

     “Squah biz, alla damned day long!” We slapped fives, high, low, leaned back up against the bench, and watched kids play sandlot ball.