Riding Dirty on I-95 Read Online Free PDF Page B

their hands on her, she could disappear into the system and no telling what kind of terrible things might happen to her.
    “You know how they do,” Amy said, sucking her teeth.
    “Look, I know you don't know me, but please, I need you to help me. Please help me find my niece,” Mercy begged. “You know that we grew up in the system, and I can't let my niece grow up in the system, too. Please, I need you to help me.” Mercy's eyes began to tear up.
    Peeping out the desperation in Mercy's eyes and in the tone of her voice, Amy said, “Don't worry. I'll help you, girl. Yo' sister is my girl, so I'm going to hook you up.” Amy put her hand on Mercy's shoulder like they had known each other forever.
    They walked to the pay phone and Amy made some calls. “Look, you got some dough?” Amy asked Mercy as she covered the phone.
    “How much?” Mercy asked, as if to say if she didn't have it, she'd get it from somewhere.
    Amy replied, “Like a dove.”
    “Yeah, I got it,” Mercy answered.
    “Well, the girl who got the baby your sister's neighbor, said she'll watch your niece until we get there, but we gotta take her a bag of weed.”
    Mercy agreed.
    After Amy took Mercy to a weed spot to cop a twenty-dollar bag, they went to Zurri's neighbor's apartment. Mercy walked in the door and saw the cutest little three-year-old girl with her hair plaited in neat rows and sporting a matching denim jacket and jeans. The girl was playing with an old black Barbie doll with the hair all cut off.
    Amy whispered the little girl's name to her.
    “Hey Deonie, I'm your Aunt Mercy,” Mercy said. Deonie looked up at her shyly.
    “I see you got your doll there. Want me to tell you a story about her?”
    Deonie didn't say anything, but handed her the doll.
    “See, this here Barbie used to be a fashion model, but then she got in with the wrong crowd,” Mercy began. Pretty soon Deonie had crawled up into her lap and was listening to Mercy, completely enthralled.

    T he next day Mercy called in sick to work so she could get her niece situated. She also visited the Jackson Ward projects to see Ms. Pat and get her advice.
    Ms. Pat came to the door in her housecoat. She was a frail-looking woman with salt-and-pepper hair and looked like a sweetlittle old grandma. Mercy's daddy had trusted Ms. Pat completely. Ms. Pat had even tried to get custody of Mercy and the other kids after Uncle Roland went to jail but never could since she was on disability and lived in the projects.
    “How do people do it, Ms. Pat?” Mercy asked, settling down in Ms. Pat's living room with Deonie on her lap. “I've got to work, but who's gonna look after Deonie?”
    “Don't you worry 'bout it. I'll look after her. But you need to live closer by. I'm gonna see 'bout getting you a place here in the project. There's a lady I know works at the housing authority, and she owes me a favor.”
    “That might take a while,” Mercy said, handing Deonie a package of animal crackers.
    “In the meantime, you can stay here with me,” Ms. Pat said, and went into the other room to fix up a place for Mercy and Deonie to sleep.
    Mercy was grateful to Ms. Pat, who was better to her than her own sorry mother. Uncle Roland had gotten so disgusted with her mother, Pearl, when he found out she was running after any man with a few dollars in his pocket, even some of those who were known to associate with Nate's killer, Cat, that he'd taken his brother's favorite daughter home to live with him. Besides, the others were either too grown and out of control or had already been swept up in the system.
    He'd called himself intervening, but he was a big-time drug dealer himself, and between the late nights, traveling, and living the fast life, she hadn't been much better off with him. Uncle Roland had put forth a good effort, but hell, he could barely take care of his own son, Roe, who was Roland's son by a trick. As soon as his child was born, Roland had taken his son and raised him himself.